Well, it's that time of the year again, and Christmas has come and gone.  I bet you enjoyed getting some nice pairs of socks from aunt Bertha, right?  Probably. But what about the rest of the holidays?  Did you enjoy those too?  Nope, cause Christmas sucks.

Now don't start lookin' at me saying, "Ah, look at this humbug."  You know Christmas is the worst time of the year.  Don't get me wrong, I love getting presents and stuff.  You probably thought I was just some spoiled kid or something. Well,that's not the point of Christmas is it, you fat money slave?  Christmas is about food, family, and joy to the world.  That's what I hate.

Let's roll back about three weeks (or three posts, if you actually still read this blog.) Winter holiday number one, Thanksgiving.  Take the overwhelming feeling of being stuffed to the brim with dry turkey and mashed potatoes, then copy and paste that to December.  There's Christmas dinner, as well as dinner for the next week or two, depending on how many people stay at your place to mooch for their entire vacations.  What is the point of such a huge meal twice a year?  Oh ya, America (do I really have to go any further?).  Does anybody actually like turkey?  Or is it just that we are so stuck on the idea that we need to kill a bunch of ugly birds and feast upon their tasteless flesh because that's what our ancestors did? 

Something about that unnaturally colored dangly thing makes me want to eat it.

I don't know, but I'm sure none of them had access to a deep fryer, which is the only way that would make a whole turkey taste good.  You can make anything delicious with plenty of fat.

While trying to keep your lardy eyelids open while under the effects of all that tryptophan, you're then forced to open presents.  Free stuff, cool, cool.  But Santa didn't magically make this and shit it out under your tree (sorry kids).  Someone had to wade through crowds of people, punching multiple solar-plexi trying to get you this gift.  This is proof of their love for you.  If they got you something like socks or a sweater, you are nothing to them. 

Don't even mention the fact that you have to go to church.  Luckily, Christmas fell on a Sunday this year, so we only had to go once, if at all.  So what if it's Christ's birthday.  The only place people go to on my birthday is the Red Robin.  If anything we should be going to a manger or barn or something to celebrate.  We don't go back over to Spain and enslave the natives there on Columbus's birthday, do we?

At least the decade old Christmas songs that have been playing on every radio station for the past three weeks have stopped.  Now we can look forward to the stores putting out all the Easter candy within the week!

I said I'd update at least once a week.  Well, we've seen well I've kept up with that.  But it doesn't matter, because finals are all over and I have nothing to do for three weeks.  And since I've drunken a Monster, I feel up for something funny.

While my energy levels are high, with heart beating like a racehorse's while just sitting here, there is little ambition to do anything.  Let me tel you something about ambition, kids.  Don't be like me, writing a small time blog while trying to balance life-changing decisions like "should I buy the regular or lo-carb Monster." Go out, get a job, get married, and live a full life.

Ha, what am I saying.  I got $100 dollars for my Slacktory gig, there is no way this lifestyle can go wrong.  Besides things like:

Forgetting how to be funny.
Being forever alone.
Having a heart-attack after ingesting too many energy drinks.

Barring any horrible occurrences that would leave me mentally crippled, out of money, without a usable computer and internet connection, or otherwise dead, I'll be fine.

Coming this week, the return of Humbold Hijinks, finals edition.

We just finished eating our turkey and shit, and stores have put out the Christmas stuff already.  Not that anybody cares, we still have finals before we can even start thinking about the holidays.  You're not going to get gifts anyways, lonely bastard.

But it doesn't matter, because all of this means that it's the end of November.  No, not the beginning of December.  What happened in November?  Lots and lots of hair.  No shave November.  I think it has something to do with prostate cancer, but it's really just an excuse to be lazy and keep your face warm.

But beards get long, unruly, and rough, and frankly, resting your head on your arm begins to suck during long hours of class.  So unless you're Justin Bieber, then you've been waiting for the end for a long, itchy time.

I normally shave in order to not look like a pedophile or a no lifer, but for this entire month I had my poor excuse for mutton chops, a dirty sanchez, and a bunch of pubic-hair looking stuff on my chin.  Ya, I bet you're jealous.

Nose clean, check.

Also I have a big bald spot under my chin, but it's OK because unless I'm staring at the sky, nobody will notice how bad and patchy my facial-hair is.

Come tomorrow, my face will be nice and smooth, and ready to be touched by lots of girls.  Just for your information, most of them don't like them, so put it away Santa Clause.

It's that time of year again, where I realize I'm too old and have too many cavities to keep going out Trick or Treating.  But I go anyways, mostly to see how many people recognize Pedo Bear, and how many of those people are concerned parents who would like to see me not giving away "free candy" to their kids out of my van dorm room.

Lazy College Student uses same mask.

Sadly, nobody actually trick or treats at the dorms, because everyone knows poor college kids would give out the shittiest candy.

Thanks, 'man'.

That's why me and my college friends are going out to get free candy instead, because you're honestly never too old to run around dressed like freaks (or sluts) and get free candy.  At least until you have kids of your own, which is just creepy.  It's funny (and sad) how much Halloween changes between childhood and somewhat-not-child-anymore-hood. 

As Children:
Boys: I want to be something scary, like Dracula, or a pirate, or a mummy. 
Girls: I want to be a princess, or a fairy, or a princess.

As Teens:
Girls:  I want to be a princess or a fairy, with fishnets and miniskirts.
Guys:  I want to check out the girls and scare little kids.

As Adults:
I'm going to feel this in the morning.

Parents try to cut back on trick or treating as you get older, not just because over time the costumes get more extravagant, expensive, and not to mention slutty, but because you have no more baby teeth left, and they will be paying for your dentist bill. 


While we're on the topic of extravagant Halloween costumes, Let's talk about some not-so good ones:

The Human Centipede: You may get three times the candy, but it's also gonna get three times as long before you get to eat it.  It might also be a little digested.

Old Cosplay:  I thought of using my old costume from an anime convention, but then again I won't be at a convention.  I'll just be a Japanophilic nerd in a possibly racist town.

Irony:  So you realized it was the day before Halloween, and that you didn't have a costume, huh?  Sucks for you that no one will give you candy without a costume.  Being a nudist on strike doesn't work either.

Internet Meme costume:  Once again, You're not on the internet, you're in real life.  Nobody will get it.  Except for Pedo Bear, because he is awesome.  And possibly because he is on a watch-list for possible criminals.

The freshman 15 (pounds of fat) is creeping up to me, and I'm only halfway done with my first semester.  All that Denny's probably isn't very good for me.  But really, who can pass up unlimited pancakes?  In return, I'll just diet a little bit (or a lot).

As a supporter of the eat-nothing diet, I have to say the emptiness inside of my stomach is really fulfilling.  Sometimes I eat a piece of something for breakfast to fool my body into thinking food is coming so it starts my metabolism, but then I shut it down.  Lots of water helps drown out any feelings of "hunger."

Two options: always eat, or never eat.

Water weight adds up after time though.  All of these fat water-sacks walking around all hydrated and stuff, it's disgraceful.  The ultimate purge diet is the only way to go.  So how do I rid my body of all the fat, water, drugs, pieces of small children, and all other toxic stuff in my body?  Here's what you do (in complete scientific detail).

1.  Stop eating.  You need to stop pushing fat and sugar down your throat for just 2 measly weeks so your body can get rid of everything that is making you chunky, slow, and tired all the time.  Also, some of the stuff that may be helping, like muscle tissue and stomach lining.  Those grow back though.  Maybe.

2.  The cleans says to drink a mixture of Lemon Juice, maple syrup, cayenne pepper, and lots of water.  This delicious concoction will be replacing any delicious food you could be eating killing yourself with for the next week or month or so.  After the toxins in your body get a wiff of this nasty shit, they will be running out your butthole faster than saltwater down a stormdrain.  Which brings us to the next step.

3.  Water.  Salt Water.  Water weight is bad, but it won't be there for long.  You know why you shouldn't drink the water if you're stranded at sea?  Because you will have diarrhea.  But as long as you're on dry land, you can basically let your colon turn into a surrogate bladder for as long as you want.  But I haven't eaten anything for the past week, how do I keep pooping?  Well, you know how you see corn in your stool even if you haven't eaten it in weeks?  Well all that corn and other bad stuff (aka toxins) are still stuck in there.

Once you drink around 1liter of an even more delicious salt water mixture, all you have to do is wait... then your butthole with explode.  Better be sitting on the toilet.  The diet recommends you to "flush almost immediately."  I haven't tried it, but I would probably follow their advice.  Just remember to add enough salt, or you're just going to retain it, fat ass.

If your knees stop working or your hair starts falling out, then that means that it's working.  Stick it out for another two weeks.  

After all this is done, you can go back to your normal "solid food" diet so you can build up another layer of digested food inside you intestines, complete with all the toxins.  Tasting something other than lemon and cayenne never tasted so good.

The East.  The West.  On a map, they make sense.  Until you start labeling things on the wrong sides.

Ninjas may come from the East, but the Lawyer comes from the West, and because of this we are richer and able use modern medicine instead of voodoo and plants grown in someone's back yard.  But lawyers cannot use maps, and I'm pretty sure ninjas can't either, which brought us to this:

Via XKCD

How we broke it:

The ideas of 'the east' and 'the west' came from Europe.  While they were out exploring and trying to bring back rare food things and shiny shit for their kings to get fat and rich on, they stumbled upon 'the east,' and before even getting a chance to laugh at their lack of guns, horses, and proper shoes, they got pushed out.  So then they went and conquered the Americas instead, because our natives were frankly less scary than little asian guys with big swords.  Then eventually they built a wall, completely closing up the orient for eons and eons until they had something they could really take advantage of Americans with: anime.

Why are these tangy tasting ramen noodles called "Oriental" you ask?  Well, shut up and sit down, because if there was one point where this blog would be here to teach you something, this would be it.  East used to be the top of the map, before fuckin' magnets came around and made north the top.  (Unless you live in the Southern hemisphere, then the map is turned upside down.  This allows the retarded portion of these countries to ask why we don't fall off.)
That's the reason the east is called 'The Orient," because if you could find east, whether by the rising sun or the smell of fermenting soy-beans, you could orient yourself and not get lost going to places like, I don't know, Africa.

So here we are as Americans, the retarded middle child.  The west is to the east, the east is to the west.  We don't have ninjas like the east, and before a certain point we didn't have anybody to invent stuff like gravity and physics like the people who make up 'the west.'  But at least Hitler wasn't born here.  Ha ha, Europe.

In this world of shitty economies, one has to give up certain things in order to be able to spend more on other luxuries, such as porn on DVD instead of free pixelated shit on the internet.  This post is for the poor man who can't afford to be in the bourgeoisie. 

Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins.  Luckily I know I'm already going to hell, so I can indulge.

Food is a love/hate relationship.  I love food, but I hate the feeling that you get after you eat so much food that you feel like you're going to burst.  But god invented fingers not only to help you shove things into your mouth, but to shove down your throat to purge yourself (granted you're not some full-time whore or sword swallower with no gag reflex.)

Or both.  Lucky sword.

Sometimes when you're cooking for yourself, such as I, a poor college student no longer living with my mom who makes me eat veggies, do, you tend to lose sight of what really matters, like nutrition.  This may just be the addictive nature of the MSG talking, but Ramen is really great.  The combination of noodles, with a bunch of salt which makes you retain all of the water that you boiled said noodles in, really fills you up.  At least until someone makes, say, a cake.

When there is nobody around to say why you can't have something extraneous and horrible for your health, such as cake (or anything for that matter) you really can't make up a reason to keep it away from yourself.  There's enough reasons to overeat, such as every holiday- you just get to pig out on something different.  Do you want cavities and an expensive dentist bill, while at the same time running around past your bedtime dressed like a retard?  That's called Halloween.  How about a table covered in every type of food imaginable, complete with a  giant dead bird stuffed with even more food?  Thanksgivings- why yes, thank you.  Even mundane outings and even random days off give reasons.  Going to Costco?  Don't mind me, just passing by for a third sample.  About to go flying on a plane?  Oh look, they only have this store here in the terminal, and nowhere else- and I have a three hour flight in which I can slowly indulge myself.

Can also be used as a flotation device.

You know those people who can't help but think about food even while they're not eating.  As Americans, we already have ways to cope with this.  It's called the Food Network, or the 24 hour fap to food porn channel, where all your dreams of being able to cook and eat all you want will come true.  That, or you can cry to yourself about your overweigtness while you sit on your couch like a beached whale, wishing someone would come put food in your mouth.

Which we have by the way.  It's called delivery.  Sadly, it's not directly into your mouth.  I like to pretend I'm getting exercise that way though; especially if you are eating Chinese food with chopsticks.  Then I can also pretend that they're like knitting needles and I knit my chow mein into a nice warm quilt.  A warm, greasy, quilt.

Back in my hometown, there was this one hole-in-the-wall burger shop where I always went to that was filled with tons of random redneck humor.  It was pretty fitting for my town.  My town that pretty much hated anything that wasn't republican.  The food was great, and the prices were too, especially if one of your friends was paying for it.

They called this method "The Obama Special."  My friend once invoked this one me, being that the only money he had was one a little plastic card, and they really couldn't use that to fuel the fire on which they cook their burgers on. 

Mmm, smells like capitalism.

So what would happen if other presidents got their own meal plans?  Who would end up paying for it?  Which person in line would get screwed, blamed, or otherwise?  Well, I came up with some plans.

The Bush Jr. Meal Special:  Because your family knows the owners, you get to go to the front of the line, then have everyone behind blame the person ahead for getting pushed back.

The Clinton Special:  This special comes with a free blow-job from one of the waitresses while you enjoy your meal!

The Nixon Special:  You get to go back behind the counter, learn the secret recipes, then get the cops called on you, saying that you broke it.  (They still let you in after, but you decided not to.)

The Kennedy Special:  You get to make your own burger in hopes of finding something better than what they serve, but end up getting kicked out.

The Roosevelt Special:  You gather up all the poor people off the streets and try to get them job there, but you have to beat up another person to try to pay for all of it.

Everything comes with a free side of your choice of fries, onion rings, or impeachment!

Baby, Baby, Baby, Friday, Friday, Friday.  I could go on and on.  Not that I would want to.

I don't know about you, but I would rather sit in boiling oil for eternity rather than listen to Bieber and Black for however long the entire discography for both of them combined would last (what, 30 minutes or something?)  But then again I'm not a prepubescent girl with problems that include choosing the right seat.

Uh, the one on the right.

I was lucky enough to grow up in the time where we had the good stuff.  I wasn't a girl back then (or now, fyi), but if I were, I would have grown up satisfying my strange pubescent girl urges thinking about Timberlake instead of Bieber.  The bands we had back then actually provided us with a fine moral upbrining; Backstreet Boys, N'sync, and Britney Spears- just look at them now:

Never mind.

Believe it or not, there were bad singers even before the technology existed to make them sound good through auto-tune.  Back then, they had other people sing while the good looking people lip synched to them.  Then Britain invented this thing called "The Beatles"  who both could sing and make girls produce excretions of which they had never produced before.  Our teen pop-stars of today are from Canada.  Thanks, eh?

On a semi- related note, who else remembers Kidz-Bop?  They took all the good pop songs of the time, took out all the sexual references and cursing, and made kids sing them.  We didn't even care if it sounded like crap, we could sing along with our own squeaky voices without having to thing you sounded bad.  Nowadays, kids already sing the songs.

The last time you were eating pizza (If you're into that type of thing), what did you think?  Did you think "Oh my god, this is mind rockingly awesome, like having an orgasm in my mouth?"  Or did you think, "America, this country that I live in, likes to take native foods from other countries, bastardize them, then try to sell them back to Americans and make them think it's genuine?"  Well that's what I thought. 

Let's take a closer look at pizza.  It comes from Italy.  Same place as pasta, breadsticks, and salads complete with those olives that you can fit on your fingers so you look like an alien [kind of].

Never mind, that's just from Olive Garden.  But Pizza is actually from Italy, I swear.  At least that what we're taught as kids.  Then again, how many people have actually been to Italy?  Does it even exist?  There's not possible way a country could look exactly like a boot- I call photoshop.

It doesn't matter, because we have pizza in this modern age, which makes everything good.  Unless you're talking about Hawaiian pizza.  That stuff is just gross.  And it's not even close to Hawaiian.  Pineapples?  I really doubt that all pineapples come from Hawaii.  That's like saying that the only fat people come from America.  Then there's the 'bacon.'  Never mind the fact that it's not real bacon, it's from Canada.  CANADIAN BACON.  On a pizza deemed to be HAWAIIAN.  Can you see anything wrong with this picture?
All the genuine traditional Italian pizza that I've had right here in the United States of Not Italy has like tomatoes and herbs on it, and topped with 17 different cheeses of which none I can pronounce.  They might even throw one some prosciutto, which is like Canadian bacon minus the shit, and with actual piggy goodness.  At a pizza place back where I lived?  There was one called the 'Smokehouse."  It was one of the greatest things to ever touch my taste buds and eventually to be shat out, but it was nothing like this. 

First off, the sauce was ranch and barbecue sauce- which is almost the exact same composition of the blood that runs through the veins of Americans.  Next, it had meat.  Lots of meat, because we have tons of land to grow up our animals big and fat before we cut them up and shove them down our gizzards.  Tiny girly countries can't afford this luxury, and therefore can't eat as much amazing protein to help them grow big and strong and have the ability to win wars.  Wars are won not on the backs of pigs, but on the bellies, right where the bacon is at.  Uh Rah.

So although we steal the native foods of other countries, we make them bigger, better, and overall more delicious.  Which is what counts.

It is known by only a select few people, but 8 o'clock actually comes around two times a day.  These sorts of people usually look like this:

The 8 o'clock of the wee morning hours should only be reserved for those who are willing to ingest large amounts of coffee.  And even then, they still have to figure out a way to function.  Just because you are awake doesn't mean you can or want to process information.

There is a wide margin of time between waking up and having adequate brain function to be in a socially acceptable state.  Between these two points, there are things like 'opening of eyes,' 'being able to keep them open,' 'hitting snooze 5 more times,' and various other things.  If I have to go to class at 8, I'm pretty much going to sleep until the last possible moment before getting ready.  There is no time for 'waking up.'  I don't care how many months you've been in a coma, if the first time you open your eyes happens to be early in the morning, you're going to shove your face back into the pillow and yell at the doctors to hold off on your sponge bath for 5 more minutes. 

I know people who are morning people.  No offense or anything, but I hate them.  So you biked briskly to class from the next town over after making yourself a soy turkey omelet for breakfast complete with freshly squeezed juice from fruit you picked yourself.  I really could care less.  Just don't be so damned peppy about it, and god forbid, don't try to get me to join in.
Classes at 8 are pretty much throwaway (unless it's like a class about sleep deprivation or an intro to coffee tasting class.)  Sucks that you registered too late.  If you are one of those 'overachievers' who wants to take 20 units a semester and can't fit in any more classes in the afternoon because that's when you have cello practice, then I don't feel sorry for you. 

The only thing worse than an 8 am class?  A 7 am class.  3 years of mornings spent as a Zombie.  Don't go to high school kids.  Drop out, sleep in, start a blog, and make money off of the ads.  If it worked for... oh wait, it didn't. 

There are two kinds of computer users. Ones who use them to make miracles and other lulz or otherwise productive things, and ones who break them the second they come into their possession.

No no no, don't do that!

My parents seem to fall into the second category. Most computers start out perfectly fine and mostly bug free (unless you’re buying a Compaq). Sure, Windows may slow down to a crawl after a while, but if you want it done a lot faster and a lot more efficiently, you can give it to one of these people.

I don't know how things turn from "checking e-mail" to "changing the default color scheme and the screen resolution into something awful" without knowing how they did it.  I didn't know what 'ctrl+x' did for the longest time, but my mom would somehow figure out how to do all that before a Google search even finished.  "It must be a virus."  No, it's not, you're just retarded.  Is what I'd like to say, if I didn't have to worry about getting grounded.

"Ok, what buttons did you press?" "All of them?"

Despite going to some of the sketchiest sites out there (*cough *4chan) and downloading pretty much every form of free or pirated software out there, I have never really had a really bad virus. Yet, my mom somehow seems to get those system dominating ones that won't let you do anything, all from, I don't know, visiting sites from Google search.  It makes me wonder what she actually uses her laptop for.

My dad once broke the power button on his brand new printer (which he even brought in and exchanged because of it.)  I don't even know how that happens.  Hardware problems like that are harder cause, unless you're trying to do random shit with stuff that stay put in the first place.  But I'm pretty sure hardware problems are tons harder to fix...

Is your hard drive running nice and quietly? Do you miss the awful clicking sound of a floppy disk trying to read all 200 megabytes of information stored on it? Well then, all your hard drive needs is a nice smack on the ground to create nice constant clicking and grinding sounds. You can even follow the rhytm with your fapping of the pixilated porn stored on said drive, if you can still read it that is...

So with my moving out of my shitty hometown and into a new college full of awesome and random people, I start a new chapter in my life. So I thought I would change up how this blog works as well. I’m going to make formal crap shorter- that being said, "It came from YouTube" no longer exists- I’m just going to post funny YouTube videos when I find them. Posts are going to be less regular, but longer and probably more funny to make up for it.

The dorm building I live in is called Laurel. I think it’s supposed to be named after a tree or something, but it can also mean butt. I think I’m the only one immature enough to make that connection. It’s also the international living area so there’s ton of people with culture. And they speak languages that I don't. With all these roommates, suitemates, and new friends that I’ve been forced into acquaintance with, I’ve had tons to deal with. Including everything Asian.

Don’t get me wrong, I love all things Asian. That might just be the fact that everything I know about Asia is learned from anime, but I’m still technically in the age range for being able to save the world if some weird shit were to happen. My roommate is a fake Asian (meaning he was born here in the ‘America’ but he speaks Vietnamese so I guess he fits.) Then there’s me, the Asian wanna-be, and then one more guy who went to Vietnam once, which is more than I can say for myself. Then there's the two girls, one of which has indeterminable race simply because we can't ask while she's on the phone or being hit on, which is always. Finally is Mrs. China.

Her name is spelled "Mangqi," which by English pronunciation is "Mankey."

Yes, Pokémon jokes have been made.  No, we haven't been so horrible as to say it in front of her.  Nor have we actually said her actual name in front of her because none of us know how to pronounce it correctly.  Needless to say, between the lot of us we have a lot of rice and chopsticks.  As well as an entire drawer in our kitchen devoted to packets of spicy looking things with unreadable moon runes all over them. 

But seriously, all of my roommates are hilarious and fun people, most likely the reason why I haven't been posting much lately.  I'll be sure to record more random happenings here for more Humboldt Hijinks.

A new school year means back to school shopping- yes, even if you're in college.  So what did my mom get for me in a last ditch effort to make me appreciate her before I left for college?  A new sweatshirt.  But not just any sweatshirt, a sweatshirt with headphones built in.

It's called a "Hoodie Buddie" (trademark some fourth grader), and I'm not sure what to think about it.

When I first saw it, I was like "my god, what kind of wizardry is this, this is amazing."  I knew that I would finally be able to listen to music in class without anybody noticing cords everywhere.  I could pass time in even the longest of classes even if I wasn't tired enough to go to sleep.

Trying it on, it hit me.  This product is absolutely ridiculous.  I mean honestly, you just look silly with those pull strings dangling from your ears.  Then again, I do now live in a town where twice-cutoff jean shorts are acceptable and a sweatshirt works perfectly fine in place of a bra.

These do actually work good, if you leave off the 'good' part.  The earbuds are those kind that shove down deep into your ear, probably past the safe zone recommended on the box of Q-Tips.  I don't know, maybe it helps in delivering music straight to your brain.  Not that it helps the sound quality at all, they're somewhere in between the 99 cent headphones from Walmart and the "they must be better because they're from Best Buy" 10 dollar ones.  It kind of sounds like I'm underwater.  Either that or they caused my ear drum to burst and let water into my skull.

I kind of like the fact that the cords are all tucked away.  I tend to tangle the fuck out of every single pair of headphones I've ever owned, and have even ripped of the speaker end off a few.  Not that I haven't destroyed the pull cords on a sweatshirt either.  If one of those bastards happens to get caught on something, you'll end up looking like Kenny for days until the strings stretch themselves back out.

Yes, you have to have the hood on to make the strings reach your ears without falling out.

My final thoughts: I know I'm going to eventually wash my Ipod because of this (assuming I actually use it to listen to music.)  I'll probably using this for snowboarding or something, so when I fall over I won't have to untangle everything, including my legs. 

Not everything in life is free, as much as I would like it to be. For things that actually are free, they are hard as hell to come by, since everybody and their great uncle wants to get their grubby hands on it first. The solution? Be the one who is there first.

Or be a vulture and get there after everyone has left everything else behind.  Sure, anything that got passed up by tons of other people probably isn't that great, but you can't complain because you probably don't have any money, you poorfags. As many of you know by now, I work at the movie theater- I get to clean up after the yuppies who pay for an 8 dollar ticket, order a 5 dollar drink and 5 dollar popcorn, then leave half of it on the ground or in their chairs. Sure, I could grab a hand full of popcorn, but I don't care for the thought of consuming another person's spit that they left for us knowing that we're in the middle of a 5 hour shift with no meal break.

Of course I was able to score some movie gum cleaning one theater. No, I didn't pull it off the bottom of the chair. I found it still in the pack. It's like a free lunch, even though that doesn't really exist. It's like trying to make a pie... from scratch.

You may be getting free food (or gum), but then again I had to exert energy to chew it, energy that came from food I had eaten previously which I had, in fact, payed for. 

So what are you left with?  Either no money because you're a chump and payed for your stuff, and hey, you might be better off because what you bought might just be better quality than anything you could get for free.  Or you might have fought your way past the other cheap people and got free stuff.  And so you're tired because none of the free stuff included food to sustain you, but you can still appreciate your free stuff none the less.

So you're looking for some porn on whatever porn site you like to go into private browsing for, and you're not sure what to choose from the countless previews pasted on your screen like pubic hair on a Japanese woman.  Do you want Big Busty Broads getting Big Meat Wads?  Or do you want Attack of the Midget Strippers V?  Three Armed Titty Monsters from Neptune?  What about Reverse 69ing with  Peanut Butter?

It's funner than it sounds. (Via Cyanide and Happiness)

If you chose 2,3, or 4, you might have some weird fetishes.  Or you just want to figure out what it feels like to laugh and climax at the same time.  But you watched it, and it will be forever in your history or at least until you delete it right before relatives come over.

Oh yeah, this one gets the recycle bin,.

Don't be ashamed of these fetishes though, most people have them.  Take me for instance, I have a strange attraction to boobs.  It's like I feel a great joy (and arousal) when looking at them.  You might say "What the fuck man, that's horrible."  Well, as they say (and by 'they' I mean the voices in my head), one man's erection is another man's towel rack.  If you're into that stuff. 

Now, once again asking me absurd pointless questions, you say "What the fuck man, how is that even a fetish."  Well let me tell you, since the idea was created about 20 seconds ago in my head, it has since become a fetish due to the rules of the internet.  I can't help it, I didn't make them.  But because of this, someone is getting off to the thought of a man hanging his towel on another man's erect penis.  Think about that and try to sleep tonight.

One common popular area of porn interest is 'hentai,' or anime porn if you don't speak Fapanese.  Yes, some people prefer to look at badly drawn boobies rather than real ones.  Go figure.  Like I said, fetishes can be some backwards shit. Not saying that I don't enjoy pixels from time to time...

Never enough.

Hentai brings out a bunch of new fetishes, just because, well, it's easier just to draw whatever the heck comes into your head.  Tentacle rape?  Cat ears?  Little girls with giant melons?  Where do I sign up?  And will I have to register as a sex offender as well?  I don't think they'll let me near the school with that on my record...


And thus concludes porn/sex/penis/vulgarity/whateverthefuckyouwanttocallit week.  Did anybody learn anything?  Probably not, because you're all to busy fapping to the idea of how great I am for taking my time to explain important stuff like this.  They don't teach this in school.  Not that I payed attention ever.

You say 'there's no sex in the bible, that's a sin and therefore shouldn't be there.  Also, you're going to hell for talking about it, and because you touch yourself at night.'  Well, that's wrong- I touch myself all throughout the day.  And if I went to church, I would probably be touching myself there too.

But really, there is sex in the bible.  Except with Mary and Joseph.  Sucks for him.  But for people like Adam and Eve, who were just basically naked in a garden paradise all day, probably didn't even have anything better to do.  And they probably hadn't even invented marriage yet.  I don't remember what the Bible says about pre-marital sex (something about it being a sin) but I know what it considers 'marriage' is pretty loose.

Back long before people complained about gays getting married, and even before Jesus was born to a women with an intact hymen, there was the town of Sodom.  Rings a bell doesn't it?

Yes, sodomy (buttsecks for you middle-schoolers out there) was invented in the Bible.  Or at least it turned into some taboo because other people didn't want their town destroyed because it was 'that time of the month' for their wives and they still wanted to get some so they stuck it in the back door.  No biggie.  Leave it to the Bible to ruin modern man's fun.

While we're on the topic of thing that have been around for long ass times, let's talk about whores.  Whoring is one of the oldest jobs in existence, even older than 'wiping grandpas ass.'  What, you didn't have to do that as kids? 

Even Jesus had a friend who was a whore.  And he loved her like the cool dude he was.  He could see her golden heart underneath all those biblical age STDs.  When she was bathing his feet in perfume, he probably even looked her in the eyes.

Eventually, this ancient job of sleeping with rich, ugly men, got an upgrade called the "video camera."  and thus porn was born.

For those of you watching porn right now (why are you reading this post?) the thing you're probably watching  for is genitals being put into other genitals (as well as other orifices.)  Personally I like seeing things like tan lines and navels, but those can only get you so far.  The real deal is stuff like this:

Not porn, but close.  Via also not pornblog.

For those of you who aren't up on science terms, I'll use the words "vagoo" and "pen0r" for now. If you are still unsure, just go watch some porn. You'll understand eventually.  So tell me, which one is your favorite?

My ex girlfriend always used to say she likes how 'girly bits' look better than 'manly bits'. I can generally agree, although some people may look at the female reproductive organ as some weird monster out of a B-movie.

ohm nom nom

I was at work today, wondering about what I was going to post for the coming week. I thought about possibly making a journal of my job at the Movie Theater  (called 'The Popcorn Diaries.") but I said 'fuck it' and decided to tak about porn.

The coming week is now porn week.  Personally I like porn. Maybe too much.  I have a theory about my internet and why it's so slow.  I think my ISP just likes to kill my bandwidth at the middle of the night to discourage me from looking at it. But that just means I have to wait a little bit longer.  It's just like the old days when I was on my parent's computer with dial-up.

You might say "porn is bad, you're going to go blind and go to hell."  I wouldn't doubt the second one, but the first one is most likely false. I haven't needed to go the the eye doctor in quite some time now.  My palms are also completely hair free. Besides, I think there's plenty of other things on this blog that should make you worry more then some boobies or penises. 

So stay tunes for a racy week filled with things like these,  fetishes, anime porn, and much much more.