It is time once again, to say hello
To fresh young minds eager to grow.
The freshman, it seems, have come at last
To hang out in dorms and sit on the grass.

To them I say, Welcome fresh fish
For your next year will be one not to miss.
Take it from me, the wise and the learned
Never a party goes skipped, never a credit un-earned.

You are in for a ride of unimaginable glee
Where you will learn what it is to truly be free.
No curfew, no rules, a fine situation
Unless you attend a Catholic institution.

So let me just say, from the depths of my heart
I hope you all have a very good start
Because as you grow, you will certainly find
That in freshman year, your best times are left behind.

To make the best of this year, you must listen true
To this brilliant advice I pass on to you.
Don't question my wisdom, for I am surely right
Hell, I drank beer from a girl's ass one night.

You must never skip class unless for good reason
Like throwing a Frisbee, drinking, or sleeping.
You must always call home; make sure that it's done
Where do you think all your money comes from?

Avoid every chance to eat in the cafe
Don't ask me why"¦just ask your ass.
Always wear sandals when washing your body and hair
Who knows what the kid before you was doing in there?

When given a nickname, never protest it
It's an honor to be called "Slutski"� or "He-Tit"�
Write all of your papers the night before they're due
You'll save lots of time and energy too!

When dining at home, there are but three options
Easy Mac, Pop Tarts and, of course, Top Ramen
Piss off your roommate right from the get go
It's fun to have a psycho sleeping below you.
Sex is ok, but make sure to be careful
The top bunk is shaky and the common room; lethal.

Get a fake ID, but do not be hasty
You don't look Puerto Rican when you're tall, thin and pasty.
Attend every party or soon you will see
That you're the only kid on the hall with no STD

Drink every beer, take every hit
Wake up on the floor covered in shit.
Take every shot, down every drink
Smoke till your brain can no longer think
Smack every ass, gain every pound
Pull your drunk ass up off the ground
Wear every hoodie, cry every May
Cherish every moment you can remember the next day.

With that, my friends, it is time for me to go
I hope you have listened to all that I know
But let me just say, and let you just hear
Welcome, young minds, to your Freshman Year.

1. Dean's got a new column out called "FFTHONKK!" (really). So check that. Also check out Aaron Karo's new column here yo.

2. Christian Finnegan of VH1's Best Week Ever is gonna write some stuff for us in the next couple of weeks so stay tuned for that. We're stoked. He's also playing at Caroline's in New York this Wednesday if you're in the 'hood...

3. Thanks to MagazinesForCheap for sponsoring this update. Show your support by getting both Maxim and Stuff for a year for $10. Then show your support of these hotlinks by clicking the bejeezus out of 'em. 

I'm sorry"¦I'm sorry. It has been a long time since I've published a new hate list and I do apologize. You see, I just started my senior year, all my friends came back and my hair grew another inch. With all those great things happening, how could I be mad? Well, a little time has passed and I've been able to let all the goodwill and kindness fade from my mind. What replaced it? Pure, unadulterated hate. Welcome friends and enemies to the 19th edition of the Famous Hate List!

If you would like to contribute, email suxatlife@hotmail.com with your submission. But, since the next hate list will be the 20th anniversary, I'm doing something special. The next edition will be "people you LOVE"�. I'll be looking forward to these.

MINE:

Observant Andy: Hmmmmm"¦there are four hundred people in this bar, it's 107 degrees in here, and I have jeans on"¦I wonder why I'm all wet? Ohhhhh, I know"¦I'm a sweaty pig! I have the unique ability to be able to sweat through any garment made of any fabric. Needless to say, spending my evenings in packed bars makes me rather wet. I know this, everyone else knows this, but Observant Andy is always gracious enough to point it out to me and anyone else who may be standing around. "DUDE!!!! You are sweating your balls off! Holy shit!"� Really? Thanks a lot, you worthless douchebag. Now I finally know why my hair is plastered to my face and there is a constant stream of fluid dripping off my nose! How kind of you to point that out to me, it makes me feel a lot better about my situation. Maybe I can point some things out to you? You're obnoxious, you're a prick and"¦I Hate You!

Gretchen Grabs-a-lot: Ok, let me put a scenario out there for you. I see someone walking down the street. I notice that in their hand they are carrying something I desire; perhaps an iPod or an umbrella. When they get near me, I snatch it out of their hands and keep it for myself. Am I wrong or is that stealing? Because Gretchen Grabs-a-lot doesn't seem to think it is, at least when it comes to my cigarettes. Gretchen will casually reach into my shirt pocket, remove a smoke or two, and then have the nut to ask me for a light without thinking twice about having just stolen my property. Sure, I can buy more cigarettes, but that doesn't mean I want some fat, pimply bitch who thinks she's something else helping herself to my tobacco. Hey Gretchen, maybe you could afford some cigarettes for yourself if you didn't spend all your money on food, you fat snatch. I was nice this time, I didn't say anything and I was a gentleman. Next time you try to pull something like that, you're losing an eye. You can help yourself to a nice inch or two of knife blade in your eye. I Hate You!

Frontin' Freshmen: Ok, I used to be a freshman too and, more importantly, I don't have anything against underclassmen. I figure (and so do statutory rape laws) that once you're 18, you can do what you want. However, that does not mean you know a damn thing about this school. I don't care if you go to my school, some huge state school, or Beaver State (hehe), this never changes. You'll hear them talking about where to get the best pizza, who sells the best heroin and which bars have the sluttiest girls. Listen up youngens, you have no idea what you're saying. This little act may work on your fellow freshmen but never try to pass that shit off on me. I know where the best pizza is (Mikes), I know who has the best heroin (me) and I know which bar has the sluttiest girls (the one my sister works at). Know your role, open your mind to the possibility that you may not know everything and, freshman girls, don't even think that I'm going to buy you a drink because you talked to me for fifteen seconds. Go find some freshman guy to buy you drinks"¦he'll be able to tell you which bartender makes the best long island"¦I Hate You!

YOURS:

Reader I have no idea what this kid's name is really hates: The cheap SOB guy... The guy who threw himself a birthday party. Then tells you What to bring like... can you go out of your way and make those wings that you make or can you bring a case of expensive beer whatever he is desiring at that point in time I guess. Now this wouldn't be so bad ... But he has the nerve to put the beer you bring in his garage and then serve you Jacobs ladder or some shit ... I mean what the hell is that ...the worst part ..."someone" snuck into the garage and took back the case of beer they brought and hid it in there car. Then the next day he complains how cheap some person was for doing it. Man i really hate him.

Reader Jack G. really hates: Mr. "I'll favor you because your mom is my friend". A little background: My best friend (Big T) is a trumpeter. He plays better than a lot of professionals, practices more than is probably healthy, and puts on one hell of a show at our concerts. So obviously I'm bound to get pissed off when some chick (Z) who doesn't care gets into the top-level band at our school instead of him. It's no fault of hers -- she didn't even want to be any it. But the fact remains, the director is friends with her parents, and he doesn't have a fucking clue who Big T is. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU????? Big T had a perfect audition tape when Z couldn't even play the motherfucking scales. Does it give you satisfaction knowing that either of us could replace you in a heartbeat? I hope it does, asshole. Maybe you'll get the clap from the trombone you fuck yourself with...I HATE YOU!!!!!!
*(Author's Note) Wow, that is the nerdiest hate list entry ever. Congratulations, Jack. Don't worry, I used to play in the school band too and as retribution for me calling you a nerd, I will post a picture of myself in full high school band regalia on my campushook profile.

Reader Mary really hates: Girls that pee all over toilet seats really annoy me... It's not like you have to point and shoot like guys do. It's not that hard, toilets are practically fool proof, you just go and that's that. And for some odd reason, if you do happen to pee on the seat, for goodness sake, clean it up you asshole. No one wants to clean up your bodily fluids so just do us all a favor and learn how to COLOR IN THE LINES. I HATE YOU!
*(Author's Note) Girls do that too? I had no idea.

Reader Bryan J. really hates: I really hate Goths: Honestly, what is the point of going about all day complaining about how shitty life is? Seriously, I don't care if your life sucks, no one else cares if your life sucks and writing shitty poetry that actually causes my ears to bleed when hearing it and wearing black clothing and making your fucking skin looked bleach won't make them care. Here's an idea you useless shithead, next time your cutting yourself just go straight for your throat, it may hurt for a few minutes but hell, you seem to be into the whole "pain is life" bullshit anyway so give it try. You think life is so depressing you middle class white shitheads? Try living in a third world country for a month then come back to me and talk about pain you useless drains on societal resources. How fucking stupid do you have to be to make it look like a fucking vampire bit you? Drawing fake teeth marks on your throat won't make you badass you sub-human piece of filth! Hey Non-Conformist shitbag! If you all listen to the same fucking music, dress the same way and write the same type of pointless poetry how the hell aren't you conforming? Dumbshit! I swear, I've never seen a more useless way to live your life, no on understands you, nobody likes you, nobody cares about you and I HATE YOU!

A Reader who does not wished to be named but I will call Winston Martini, really hates: bitchy girls that get offended when you ask them out (like it's an insult to receive a "How about dinner") or come and mope to other guy friends of theirs about how damn depressing it is to be the object of someone's affection. BULLSHIT! How I would love to be chased after by a dozen people - instead, the most i get are gay men! And you sit there and tell me some damn sob story about how you are so liked by so many people and it just gets annoying. And then you have the nerve to turn around and bitch again, and again, and again about how it's incredibly difficult to get a date. MEN ARE CHASING YOU DAY AND NIGHT AND YOU HAVE TROUBLE GETTING A DATE! I don't mind if you're picky, hell, that's you're right, but honestly - it's not like you're being shunned. If you want a date, take one of the many who are apparently blind to the treachery and whining bitchiness that lies so deep in your pitiful blackhearted soul, give them a run for their money. Hell, they've got the guts to do what you have been dying to have happen to you, so don't be an ass anymore. They'll even buy you dinner, but I won't. Why? Because I know what you are and I HATE YOU!

Reader Tom M. really hates: "Too-nice-to-tell-you Tammy" This is the girl that is nothing but nice to you in conversation, and gives you every reason to believe she's interested in you. Only the fact of the matter is that this spineless twat isn't interested in you at all, she just isn't gutsy enough to tell you to stop wasting your time. Instead, this particular species of useless, societal stain would rather have her tough guy friends take you aside and tell you how they really feel because they lack the courage to tell you themselves... or do they lack the ability to break their attention addiction? Well fuck you, you worthless, irritating brain scab, I HATE YOU!

And, the award for most prolific hater of the months goes to"¦.

Reader Stephanie really hates: "preppy groupies who crave attention" These little fucks strut around in groups of 4 or 5, all wearing identical rolled-up jeans/ruffled skirts in an assortment of colors with off the shoulder shirts or tops displaying cute adjectives describing themselves (sexy, dangerous, bootylicious, etc.) They seem to think that the street is their personal runway, and any slightly-gay abercrombie lookalike model should turn his head at them and proceed to kiss the ground they just walked on with their ugly flip flops/pumps. Their noses are in the air, and they're smiling that annoying "stare at me because I'm beautiful and blonde" smile. It's similar to the smile that those fuckers who try to be funny do after they state an overused or really old joke, expecting everyone to laugh along with them and think of them as the funniest person at the party, because they're so damn popular. If the preppy bitches happen to spot a girl with a style slightly different than theirs, they'll simultaneously give her a look that says "OMG don't come near us you scary rocker that dares to wear black and more than one bracelet and listens to headbanger music that hurts my ashlee-simpson loving ears, we'll scratch you with our manicured, glued on nails if you break up the happiness and sunshine that surrounds us always *girly screams*" You pain in the ass shitfaces, go out for reasons other than shopping, getting a tan, and picking up hot guys who you'll either play hard to get with or fuck the next day, and know that I, as well as anyone with a mentality older than that of a 15 year old, HATES YOU!

Stephanie also hates: fucking fat-asses that take up the whole sidewalk. If you're in a crowded area, and people are behind you for blocks and blocks, don't take your fucking time looking at everything and taking it in thoughtfully. Walk the same pace as those around you. When I push past you don't give me a look that lets me know you think I'm the scum of the earth, because I made you feel slow, fat, and annoying. You ARE really fucking slow, you ARE too large to let me pass, whether you're right in the middle of the fucking sidewalk or not, and you ARE extremely annoying because it's beyond the borders of normal social conduct for me to kick your ass and tell you that you're a douchebag. While you're taking your time getting up that steep set of steps, ponder Slimfast shakes, joining a gym, or getting over your large, too-good-to-cater-to-anyone else self. If I say excuse me before I work my way around you, don't just ignore me and amble on forward, because I'm trying my hardest to be polite even thought I'm about to miss my bus because you're a piece of shit. You should know that when I can't get around you because everyone else is trying to, I'm gritting my teeth, wishing that I could pull out your hair, shove you onto the ground, and roll you across the street into that sharp piece of broken fence, because impaling you on it might just give me a sick sort of pleasure. Speed it up, chubby, or I'll kick you so hard you'll crush the next 4 people in front of you. Have a nice day, I HATE YOU!

Finally, Stephanie also hates: "the hicks that consider me a city-slicker." Take your fucking faded hat off and wash your hair, dirtbag. Cut the mullet off while you're at it, because it was never in style, and it never ever will be. Clear up your eyes with visine, or just stop smoking your disgusting cheap ass cigarettes. Maybe you prefer cigars ... well those smell worse, and they're only one of the components of the stench you give off. Take a break from the whiskey, because you matter how drunk you are, you WILL sober up after that hangover and all of your hick-life problems will come back to you. Don't say things like ain't, pERty (pretty), etc. Your accent isn't cute, and I'm embarrassed for you. When you ask me a question about school, work, or what I do for fun, wait a few minutes before your expression goes completely blank and your eyes crust over because you haven't blinked in awhile. Oh...you're drooling. You really do not know ANYTHING about where I come from, and could not possibly help me in any real life or remotely common-sense situation. Go back to high school, I mean grammar school, graduate, learn how to speak english, and get a job that requires more than turning a wrench all day. Then I'll have a conversation with you, you stupid piece of hick-shit. Don't start up a conversation about politics to sound intelligent, or to show me how opinionated you can be. I hate it when "city-slickers" pull that shit. Watching the news doesn't make you an educated person, because you also watch race cars drive around in circles and occasionally crash. Maybe you can understand this much: Don't barther me no more cause I fucking hate you and your country music."

Wow, other than that last one, I think Stephanie is writing about me. That's all for this weeks hate list, join me next time when we celebrate the Famous Hate List's 20th birthday. I'll be doing a special edition (as I did with the 10th edition). This time the entries should all be "people you LOVE!"� Goodnight and happy"¦loving???





 

Welcome Freshmen

It is time once again, to say hello
To fresh young minds eager to grow.
The freshman, it seems, have come at last
To hang out in dorms and sit on the grass.

To them I say, Welcome fresh fish
For your next year will be one not to miss.
Take it from me, the wise and the learned
Never a party goes skipped, never a credit un-earned.

You are in for a ride of unimaginable glee
Where you will learn what it is to truly be free.
No curfew, no rules, a fine situation
Unless you attend a Catholic institution.

So let me just say, from the depths of my heart
I hope you all have a very good start
Because as you grow, you will certainly find
That in freshman year, your best times are left behind.

To make the best of this year, you must listen true
To this brilliant advice I pass on to you.
Don't question my wisdom, for I am surely right
Hell, I drank beer from a girl's ass one night.

You must never skip class unless for good reason
Like throwing a Frisbee, drinking, or sleeping.
You must always call home; make sure that it's done
Where do you think all your money comes from?

Avoid every chance to eat in the cafe
Don't ask me why"¦just ask your ass.
Always wear sandals when washing your body and hair
Who knows what the kid before you was doing in there?

When given a nickname, never protest it
It's an honor to be called "Slutski"� or "He-Tit"�
Write all of your papers the night before they're due
You'll save lots of time and energy too!

When dining at home, there are but three options
Easy Mac, Pop Tarts and, of course, Top Ramen
Piss off your roommate right from the get go
It's fun to have a psycho sleeping below you.
Sex is ok, but make sure to be careful
The top bunk is shaky and the common room; lethal.

Get a fake ID, but do not be hasty
You don't look Puerto Rican when you're tall, thin and pasty.
Attend every party or soon you will see
That you're the only kid on the hall with no STD

Drink every beer, take ever hit
Wake up on the floor covered in shit.
Take every shot, down every drink
Smoke till your brain can no longer think
Smack every ass, gain every pound
Pull your drunk ass up off the ground
Wear every hoodie, cry every May
Cherish every moment you can remember the next day.

With that, my friends, it is time for me to go
I hope you have listened to all that I know
But let me just say, and let you just hear
Welcome, young minds, to your Freshman Year.


Dedicated to everyone beginning that great journey called higher education. Good Luck!
 

About a year ago I went to a comedy show with my then girlfriend. The bill was stocked with some heavy hitters but the one who brought the house down was a young comedian named Mitch Fatel. I liked him, but my girlfriend loved him. For the next week or so she poorly tried to recite bits from his act and talk about how cute he was. It was awful and, being a comedian myself, I don't particularly like to hear how funny other comedians are. I swore if I ever met him, he would pay. And that is just what he offered to do.
"Do you guys want a drink?"� Mitch Fatel asked as he made the rounds at Standup NY comedy club. My photographer, Ariana, and I declined the offer as politely as two college students masquerading as professional journalists could.
If you have ever seen Mitch Fatel, chances are you would remember him. Part timid child, part innocent demeanor, part inappropriate sex addict; Fatel is certainly an individual. When he speaks onstage you hear a child lost in the supermarket; a scared little kid unsure of himself and his surroundings. A scared little kid propositioning audience members for sex, talking about the clitoris, anal sex, and how men feel when they do it doggie style ("I can only say that it is similar to the way women feel when the see a sunrise"�).
With the release of his new comedy CD "Miniskirts and Muffins,"� numerous appearances on Letterman and Leno, and a huge fan base, many feel Fatel is on the verge of a major break. But he wasn't always this funny.

CH: When did you start doing comedy?
MF: I started doing standup when I was 13 or 14. My Dad would drive me in to the clubs and I would go onstage in my pajamas saying that I had to get up early for school. I wasn't funny but I would get up and do stuff that I thought was hilarious. I would eat cookies and milk and say I needed my snack before bed"¦it was really terrible stuff.

CH: I know what drives me to perform is a massive ego, do you agree?
MF: I always say there has to be a sick reason why you go through this rejection constantly. There's got to be such a need for love. If you ever ask whether or not you should be a comedian, don't do it. You shouldn't have to ask, you should need to do it. If you don't need to do it, save yourself a lot of pain and get a family and a real life.

That pain Fatel speaks of is bombing; an act so horrifying to a comedian, that some never recover from it.

MF: There is no way that you're not going top die eventually. When you do it's torturous still. I've never learned to deal with that pain. One time my Mom and Dad came to a show and I died horribly. I thought my Mom would say "you tried it,"� "you did good"� but she didn't say anything. So halfway into the trip home I asked how I did and my Mom actually said, "Let's face it, you bombed."� After your Mom saying you bombed, anyone else telling you comes easy.

CH: Do you want a TV show?
MF: Yeah, you get a lot of babes with a TV show. (points to Ariana) I could get Ariana with a TV show. That's all she's waiting for, she basically told me.

CH: What would be the premise of your show?
MF: When I started out, everyone thought I would be the typical wacky neighbor. And I was. I was on a show called "House Rules"� that lasted for about 4 episodes. It was terrible"¦(phone rings) I think that's "House Rules"� calling to say I'm the reason their show failed. I'm not an actor, I'm a comedian so I'm not going to fit into the conventional sitcom. What I'm doing now is working on a show for Comedy Central that will cater more to my audience.

CH: Who will you cast in this show?
MF: People who write good interviews about me. Ariana, of course, will have a lead role once she dumps her boyfriend. I'll just cast people that make me laugh. If you put a bunch of comedians together and take all the corporate stuff out of it, you'll have something successful because we know how to be funny.

CH: Are there any shows that you think have that pure comedic brilliance to them?
MF: "Curb Your Enthusiasm"� and "South Park."� You watch them and you wonder why network TV still puts out crap.
CH: That is very true.
MF: Yes. I'm very smart.

CH: What's the weirdest thing to happen to you on the road?
MF: I was doing a club in Alabama and I was doing pretty good. I see the owner, who's this Tony Soprano mafia guy, walking around to every table passing out rolled up socks. I couldn't figure out what was going on. Sure enough, when everyone has their socks, he shouts "˜1,2,3' and everyone started lobbing socks at me. I was like "˜what was that? I wasn't even doing bad.' That was bad, but another time I was working a club in the Hamptons and I was doing great - I always do very well, I'm very talented - and a girl just walked on stage lost. She walked right over to me, stared at me, and threw up all over me"¦Now I'm dating her.

We started to talk about Fatel's appearances on "Dr. Katz,"� a now cancelled cartoon series that has developed a serious cult following. We then talked about working for the NFL as a commentator. You may have seen him asking "retarded"� questions to some of the players at the Superbowl or celebrating the Patriots win atop the shoulders of linebacker, Jeff Chattam. He then called me his best friend and asked if we could hang out. I guess that is the essence of Mitch Fatel; unpredictability. But if you have ever seen his act, you would see his answer to my next question coming from a mile away.

CH: You've worked for both "Playboy"� and "Penthouse,"� which do you prefer?
MF: "Penthouse."� They stick stuff in their vaginas"¦how do you beat it?

Interesting. I thought that now would be a good time to tell Fatel about my ex-girlfriend and her obsession with him. I brought a picture along and he seemed very impressed (point: Seidell!).

MF: She is hot. I would love her.

I told him the sad tale of her leaving me for the owner of a rental company.
MF: Oh man, tent and grill rental always gets girls wet. How did you not know that? Man, you should have come to me.
CH: I didn't know.
MF: You're young. I know a lot more than you about this. When she's my girlfriend, I'll keep all rental people away from her.

Fatel wanted to know if we had had sex after seeing him perform. I couldn't remember. But more importantly, I thought that was a very odd question. Fatel was ready with an explanation.

MF: I've heard that a lot of girls tend to get turned on, not by me, but by the sex talk and go home and have sex with their boyfriends. I just want pictures. To all my fans out there, if I'm involved somehow in getting you sex I want to reap the benefits of my jokes. Send pictures to mitch@mitchfatel.com.

He is dead serious as well. And if you do feel like sending Mitch sex pictures of yourself, please CC: them to suxatlife@hotmail.com as well. But it was time to move away from women and onto more serious matters, namely, Mitch's new CD "Miniskirts and Muffins."� I was curious about the cover, which features two Playboy centerfolds.

CH: Was that the best photo shoot ever?
MF: It was the worst ever. One of the girls showed up from Playboy with a tube-top on. We were all like "˜ok, gotta lose that top.' And she actually said, "˜I have to take my top off for this?' We were all thinking "˜you did work for Playboy, right?' Suddenly, we're all dirty old men going "˜TAKE YOUR TOP OFF! TAKE YOUR TOP OFF!' But it was business to them. They were there to make money and they did a great job.

CH: Any advice for the readers of Collegehumor.com? Remember, they're probably stoned.
MF: You are only living life for one reason and that is to achieve what you want. If you die following your dreams, you will die satisfied.

This from a man who calls the clitoris "the Osama Bin Laden of the vagina"� (it spends most of its time hiding in an underground bunker).

Check out mitchfatel.com to listen to clips, watch his TV appearances, buy his new CD and see a nude picture of him.
 

Cafeteria Worker interview

Hello, Mr. Sanchez. Please have a seat. I see here that you are interested in working at our university's cafeteria. Well, that's great news. Let's get right to the interview. So, I see here on your application that you haven't put down your birthday, why is that? Oh, I see, illegal immigrant"¦yes"¦that would explain the lack of social security number and permanent address. Not a problem, we hire plenty of illegal aliens every year. Shall we proceed? Great!

Ok, now it says here you did some time in prison? Ok, a stabbing in Peru"¦right"¦well, do you promise not to stab anyone here? Yes? Good enough for me. I'm looking at your health records here and it appears that you have some infections? Just syphilis? No"¦Typhus too"¦ok, do you wash your hands at least once a week? You do, fantastic. That takes care of that.

Now, we here at university food services encourage strong co-worker relationships. Do you get along well with other low-income earners? Good"¦good. Now, will you be able to finish up conversations with them while ignoring dozens of hungry college students? You do, ok"¦I like what I'm hearing.

What is the biggest reason you want to work in the university's food service industry? Child support"¦I see, anything else? You like harassing attractive female students"¦who doesn't? I see in your references section you have listed some people in the military, did you serve? No"¦they shot and captured you at the Bay of Pigs"¦Ok, well that tells me two things about you. One, you don't mind getting your hands dirty. Two, you are used to long hours. Am I right? I knew it"¦I just have this ability to read people.

I've noticed since we sat down together that you have been twitching your face a lot, may I ask why? Oh"¦crack problem, eh? Hey, nobody's perfect. How long have you been off the dope? 22 minutes, huh? Well, I can't say I condone the smoking of illegal drugs while at work but what you do on your free time is your own business.

I'm sorry Mr. Sanchez, but I can't help but notice that this whole time we've been talking, there have been three rather large men behind you, may I ask who they are? Guards"¦ So, you're currently incarcerated? Yes"¦alright, will your incarceration interfere with your work schedule? You're going to be paroled by September? Great, well let me just say congratulations on your first job out of the joint!

That's right, Mr. Sanchez, we would love to have you join our team. I will speak with the warden and get all of your papers in order"¦gotta make this look good to Uncle Sam. As for the uniform, you will receive black pants that we encourage you to wear somewhere well below your buttocks. You will also receive a white smock which must be washed at least once a semester. Welcome, Mr. Sanchez"¦any questions? Oh"¦$2.75 and hour for the first 5 years with the possibility of a raise after that. Anything else? No"¦well, we'll look forward to seeing you this September!


Dedicated to all of the cafeteria workers who have, for four years, ignored me, gotten my order wrong, coughed on my food, and given me diarrhea"¦Thank You.
 

Dear Timmy,

I'm so proud of you. You are going to love kindergarten. Don't worry about leaving me for the day, I'll be waiting for you when you get home with cupcakes and hugs. Kindergarten is so exciting. You're going to meet so many new kids which is good because I think you need to make some real friends. Listen, I like Mr. Pollywog The Invisible Superhero just as much as you do, but maybe you should make a friend that will actually talk to you.

I know it's been hard for you these past few"¦well, actually your whole life. But don't worry; a lot of other kids have burns too. Maybe they won't cover %87 percent of their bodies like yours do, but they'll have them. Plus, that new ointment "Dr."� Hank gave you seems to be working. It doesn't matter that it makes you pee your pants either. Plenty of kids pee their pants; it's nothing to be ashamed of. Normally though, they don't take their pants off and then pee on them"¦I could never figure out why you do that.

Listen, if the kids start asking about your Mom, you just say she's in the army or something. It's about time you knew the truth. Your Mom was a lady who just couldn't stay in one place"¦mostly because outstanding warrants and such. I met her one night at the homeless shelter where she was living at the time. She was the most beautiful street urchin I had ever laid eyes on. I gave her some soup and I saw something in her eye. I say eye because she only had one. I guess she lost the other one to a wolf somewhere in Maine. Anyways, I invited her home with me and we made you that night. When I woke up, she was gone"¦so was my wallet, my watch, and most of my silverware. But she repaid me with an even greater gift; you! Nine months later I found you wrapped in newspaper on my doorstep.

I wish I could have prepared you more for this day, son. I should have taught you how to read but the truth is, I don't know how either. We can learn together! I could have made more of an effort to be there for you but you know how hard it is for me. You'll learn someday"¦managing a strip club is a lot of work. There's the girls to take care of, rowdy clientele"¦here I go with the excuses again. I guess me never being home may have been a good thing for you: You can cook for yourself, take care of my bills, put out grease fires, etc"¦That's a lot more than the other kids whose parents were actually home can say.

You're a great kid, Timmy. I can't believe you're already starting kindergarten! It might be a little weird being 12 while all the other kids are 5, but you'll get by. I would have enrolled you when you were younger but I must have lost the forms or something. Plus, you don't have a birth certificate or social security number so that made it harder. Hell, who needs em? I lost mine when I did that prison stint in Guam and the government thought I was dead.

But enough about that, this is your big day! You're going to learn all about triangles and primary colors. Hell, you'll be twice as smart as me when you get home today. All I know about is restocking the tampon machine in the stripper's dressing room, breaking "over-friendly"� customer's hands, and fudging the bar take to keep the Don happy. I can teach you all of that, but school is your ticket to better things. Maybe someday you could managed a real nice stripclub or even own one yourself!

I hope I'm not putting too much pressure on you, it's just that you have so much potential. Ever since you were a little kid and I would send you into the ladies room to take pictures of girls on the toilet, I knew you were gifted"¦you never got caught once! Timmy, I love you. I hope you have a great day at school and if anyone gives you trouble -about your burns, your homeless mother, the cheap gin I gave you for lunch, anything - you tell me and I'll take care of it. I love you, have a great first day!

Love Dad

PS. Always sit in the back of the bus"¦only faggots sit in front.
 

People You Hate XVIII

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the 18th edition of the Famous Hate List. It's been a while since our last ranting and I apologize. I was having a good week and didn't feel that resentful. But that is over now and the hate is back and more bitter than ever.

*Remember, if you would like to contribute to the Famous Hate List email suxatlife@hotmail.com with your submission.

MINE:

Interupting Robert: I don't have a good body, but I really am trying to do something about it. I joined a really expensive gym a few months ago and have really made an effort to go at least once every two weeks. When I do go, I strap on my discman, discreetly slip in my Ashlee Simpson CD, make sure the headphones are plastered to my head so no one can hear, and pump myself up to Ashlee's sweet strains. I grunt, I lift, I heave, I pretend that I'm not listening to "Pieces of Me."� I'll be in the middle of a grueling set of three reps of 15 pound curls when Interupting Robert will approach. At first I will just see his mouth moving because Ashlee is blocking out his annoying voice. But then I will be forced to turn Ash down and listen to this idiot. "Hey dude, are you done with those (points to weights)?"� Does it fucking look like I'm done with them, you douchebag? No"¦No I'm not. Before you started poking at my shoulder, Ashlee and I were working our way to a fitter body, now I'm sitting here defending my right to use the weights that I picked up in the first place. How about this, from now on why don't you wait until I put the weights down before you ask to use them"¦that, or just hang yourself, you fucking tool"¦I Hate You!

Kiddy Spitter: If you have read some of my past columns you know that I work with kids in the summer. It's sweet job, I get a lot of money to basically go swimming all day with some underpriveledged kids. However, I have one little scamp who apparently never learned not to spit in people's faces. He just learned to swim underwater and he likes to show off for me. Cute, isn't it. But when he surfaces right in front of me, he lets out a huge jet of water all over my face. It's absolutely disgusting. The water, which is probably soaked through with piss, is a few degrees warmer than the rest of the pool. It's mixed with saliva and gummy bears and it lingers in my hair. I tell him everytime "_____, you really can't spit on me. It's not really polite."� Everytime, he apologizes and then does it again five minutes later. Hey buddy, keep your germs and ice cream residue to yourself because I really don't want to intercept it in my mouth. You're a disgusting, grubby little bastard"¦but, hey, I can't stay mad at you"¦I kind of Hate You"¦sometimes"¦wait, don't cry"¦I didn't mean that"¦go have another Oreo.

The Gas Price Expert: Say what you will about the current gas prices in our country but the fact remains that we all sat stunned as a gallon rose to $1.80, then $2.00, then $2.48, and so on. This guy (it's always a guy) apparently is on top of the situation. Not only does he know why the gas prices are so high, but he knows all the secret places to get cheaper gas. "Dude, I can't believe you're paying $2.68 per gallon"¦there's this place of Rt. 17 where you can get it for, like, $2.59."� HOLY SHIT! Are you telling me I could save a whopping NINE CENTS on the gallon if I drive 25 miles out of the way to fill up at your emerald city gas station? What a deal! You know what? I'll take the nine cent hit and save myself an hour's drive but thanks for the tip, you cheap shit. Meanwhile, Mr. Thrifty here drives an Excursion. If you applied your super saver tips to your day to day life, you could save yourself the indignity of me telling you to shut the fuck up"¦I Hate You!

YOURS:

Reader Person (that's the best I could figure out from the email) really hates: The Speed Trap Cop: You hide on the side of a street, and wait for people to drive by you going 10 miles over the speed limit and then pull them over. Well thank you, don't you think it would be a better use of your time to go and arrest the gang bangers who roam freely around Los Angeles? Why don't you go and arrest one of the hundred drug dealers who live within walking distance from my old high school? No you have to pick off busy motorists who are just trying to get somewhere a little quicker. I hope you get shot by one of the gangbangers you didn't arrest, I FUCKING HATE YOU.

Reader Brandon S. really hates: blogging barry. Seriously, when did it become socially acceptable to cut off all human contact except through some sort of online journal service like livejournal or myspace. I've had to subscribe to 4000 of these services just to find out what's happening with my friends. And these fuckers will never tell you what they did the night before right to your face. But get them in front of a computer and they won't shut the fuck up. And they always have to run home right after class or work and sit online for like 2 and a half fucking hours staring at their computer screen and typing about how shitty their life is and how no one understands them "oh my dad made me mow the lawn today, i want him to die" or "My mom made me do the dishes to day, that bitch is a ho!!!!1!!oneoneexclamationpoint" and I really REALLY hate how they get mad if someone leaves a mean comment about them on their journal. Hey you vile ass lancing deer tick if you don't want people to be mean to you online then DONT FUCKING WRITE ABOUT YOUR SHITTY GAY ASS LIFE ONLINE. Nobody cares how your band totally brings the mosh, nobody cares that you teacher gave you extra homework today, nobody cares that your so fucking punX because you listen to some gay ass band like death before dying on a twisted river that's bleeding. And if you really have to just share your life with everyone do us all a favor and PlZ DoN'T TyPe LyKE DiS, i'm sure you have a spell checker someplace on your computer, it's not there just for show, it's there for you to use. And don't type with those retarded fucking toggle letters, they make it seem as if you're actually just pounding your head at random points on the keyboard to type. I wish your mother had a longer coat hanger you waste of life, how can i put this in terms that even your retarded ass will understand? oh I know......i FuKinG H8 u

Reader Crystal W. really hates: The Crying Drunk: This is to all you ladies out there. I've never met a male who has cried when he was drunk, and if I did, I would beat him up for being the wuss that he is. Most of you out there have most likely had to deal with the Crying Drunk. There's two kinds; the ones who will weep in the corner, pretending that they don't want to be seen, and the ones who will throw their arms around you, sobbing hysterically. Just leave the bar for Christ's sake. I don't care if your "crush" won't talk to you, I care less if he did you last weekend and is making out with another girl on the dance floor right now, and if you're crying because you think all your friends hate you, I HATE YOU TOO. Learn to drink so that you don't bawl all over me - FUCK I hate you.

Reader Matthew W. really hates: my old job/boss. I used to work in the information systems department at my college for a summer job. But no, after working my ass off as a little bitch rather than a technician like my job title, I get canned. The fucker decided to fire me one day after I called off the morning, but not the afternoon. Big fucking deal.
According to him, my fucking reliability was in question. Meanwhile, my other co-workers don't show up for days at a time. Also, this asshole doesn't show up until after 2 hours we do every fucking day. Onetime whilst we were all diligently working with the new computers our college received, he demanded that I run an extension cord through the ceilings into his office so he could plug in a ceramic heater! Most people aren't lucky enough to have air conditioning at work. He couldn't have put on a hoodie like the rest of us did. Every morning I prayed for a phone call that goes something like this; "Hi Matt, Don't come into to work today because your sci-fi obsessed boss killed himself. His suicide note said that he couldn't meet the social skills of today's world and because he no one knew what he did at his job, he took as a clue he was useless." Well he is useless, he should be fired, and he should kill himself. I hate you!

Reader Casey in, not from, Texas really hates: Brick-Leaving Barry: Barry is the guy who comes to your party, solely to drink all your beer because he's too fucking cheap to by his own 12 of Natural Light. Barry wouldn't be such a bad dude if he didn't leave bricks (aka "wounded soldiers") all over your house, for you to find the next morning and say "Who the fuck drank only half the beer in these 12 cans???". For Christ's sake, don't be a fucking woman, drink your whole beer. I don't give a damn if you've already had 80 beers in the course of 3 hours. When you open that 81st beer and you didn't fucking pay for it, you have to drink all of it...including the nasty, warm, piss-like swill at the end. You suck at drinking etiquette almost as much as you suck at life and that's why I fucking HATE YOU!
(Editor's Note: While my email may be suxatlife, this in no way refers to me"¦I'm Irish, I finish what I start)

Casey also hates: Female version - Wounded-Soldier Wanda: Wanda is the girl at the party who starts a new beer every time she starts a new conversation. So, eventually, this bitch ends up leaving 16 half-sipped beers around your kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom. Drink your full fucking beer you dumb cheap bitch. I know you're a girl and you don't have to pay, but after 16 beers you have as much alcohol in you as a normal person would after 8 beers. The point: you are going to be a panty-dropper no matter how much you drink, so why don't you just quit wasting my beer? You should just switch to tequila, because you can't drink half a shot, because you'll get hammered twice as fast, and because I fucking HATE YOU!
(Editor's Note: This, however, does refer to me)

Reader Darin D. really hates: The person who in a public setting realizes their phone is ringing, casually looks at it, and then places it back without ever turning the ringer off. Like I really want to hear your fucking MIDI file of "Lets get the Party Started". And what's with all the new telephones sounding like they have a quadraphonic Blaupunkt installed that is louder than the first stereo I owned? Hey, I have an idea, the next time this happens, turn off your fucking ringer before I come over and shove that loud piece of shit so far up your ass you will have a Nokia tattoo on your forehead. I HATE YOU!!!

Reader Katherine L.O. really hates: People who don't know how to have fun: I would like to send a hefty dose of hate to the bitches that live downstairs from me. Since when did having some friends over on a Saturday night to enjoy a keg and some music at a reasonable volume become a reason for such scorn from the neighbors? The scorn from these losers brought the cops to our door by 12:30 (yes that would be 12:30 midnight) The cops proceeded to hand me a nice $260 noise violation ticket and dump out the keg that we paid good money for and generously shared with all of our guests. I was shocked by the rudeness and bitterness of these mutants. Was it too much to grow some balls and walk up stairs and politely ask us to turn the music down? Or to at least call security before going straight to the cops? I am friends with the security guard, everything would have been fine. Unlike you, I am not a cold-hearted, inconsiderate bitch and I have respect for other people's lifestyles (except yours of course). I would like to send you bitches most of the hate that I have to give. The rest is saved for people who do not know how to drive on the highway and people who say things like I don't have to drink to have fun or talk about how much everyone loves them when they pretty much just annoy the fuck out of everyone. I Hate you all.

Katherine also hates: Human Road Blocks: This annoying waste of space is the one who rides their bike down a busy road when there are sidewalks on either side of the road like they have rights to the road or something. They hold up traffic and try to act like they are completely unaware of the absolute chaos going on around them that is caused by them. Sorry asshole but if you hadn't noticed, THE ROAD IS FOR CARS!!!!!!!!! Then there is the rare breed of these mind blowingly irritating people that actually use the hand signals to tell you if they will be turning etc. Seeing this gives me an almost uncontrollable urge to speed up and run over them with all of the fury of hell. To these people, clad in their disgusting bike shorts, elbow and knee pads and ridiculous looking helmets who are too good/stupid for the sidewalks - I HATE YOU SO VERY MUCH.

Reader Shawn D. really hates: Mr. "All I do is talk about politics that I know nothing about and LOUDLY support one candidate over the other, and if you don't agree, you're Un-American." Maybe if you weren't such an asshat, you'd realize other people have opinions too. In fact, I'm sure they know more about what they are talking about than you, Mr. I only watch Fox News for the hot newscasters. The real die hard, Christian moralist Bush supporters fit this bill exactly. Look, asshole. I'll shove an American flag so far up your ass that red white and blue will be falling out of your mouth with brown stains instead of strips, you fuckup.

Finally, reader Casie really hates: " ms. im sooooo drunk" I hate YOU ....WE all know (except for the meat -brained jock you trying to fuck) that you are NOT drunk. You've had a total of 2 wine coolers ! 2! we understand that you are a sluty bitch who has a need to fuck any guy that is near! Stop playing !!!!! You are not Ssssoooo drunk , stop slurring your words, stop pretending that we all cant see your boobs because you don't?? know that your goddamned shirt has come open all by itself! You are not drunk!

Whewwww, that was a lot of hate. You know, I thought everyone out there would understand the concept of the hate list; that people need a place to vent about stuff that annoys them. But some apparently don't. So, I present you with one final entry.

Non-reader Stephen really hates: the people that feel the need to write a column about everyone they hate. They are pathetic and should find something constructive to do with their time instead of degrading everyone other than themselves. Whoo hoo, they have a column on collegehumor.com - have a fucking cookie, but I don't wanna hear about every little thing and person that pisses them off. Why don't they try writing about things they like instead of being a little bitch and putting everyone else down.
PS - You said you hate Republicans because you're broke, well buddy, you live in CT. pretty sure that's about the fucking richest state out there. FUCK OFF JERK I HATE YOU! And taking more drving time has nothing to do with the GOP - if the Dems went to NY you'd prolly love it.

Hahahaha, what a delightful young man. A bit contradictory, but I can forgive. Now, I must have a cookie and jack off to the fact that I have a column on collegehumor!

*Don't be like Stephen, contribute to the hate list for real instead of using its format as a way to say you hate me"¦trust me, it's been done again and again. Email your submission to suxatlife@hotmail.com. And if you want to tell me how much you hate me, just write it in a simple email. There's no need to disgrace the Hate List as such. Thank you.



It has come to my attention that one of my readers did not make the volleyball team at her school. All i can say is that this is perhaps the most unjust act I have ever heard about involving one of my readers and volleyball. Mrs. Vorse, how could you not accept Hilary into your elite team of athletes? She attended hitter/setter camp this summer and I feel that she has put all her efforts into this enterprise. Hilary would be a great adittion to your volleyball team and, since her friends have all made varsity, it would be good for her social life as well. I urge you to seriously reconsider this heinous decision and re-evaluate Hilary at once. Thank you. 

Rachel M. Kiley
Mrs. Brenner
7th Grade History
4th period

The Civil War

People from the south of america like to kill people a lot. So back in 1776 they started this war with the other americas who lived up north. They started the war cuz people in the north said they couldn't have slaves anymore. The southners, or dicksees, were really mad cuz they liked to sit around and let all the slaves do work for them. But the northners, or Yankees, couldn't have slaves so they were jealous.

Anyways, the dicksees snuck into boston dressed like Indians and dumped all the tea in some ship into the ocean. That made the Yankees really mad cuz they loved tea and it came from china or somewhere. Then president lincun was really, really mad cuz he loved tea more than anyone and he declared war on his own country.

The dicksees made there own flag called the stars and cars cuz it was on the dukes of hazzard's car. Then they got their own president who was called Jefferson airplane. He hated black people just as much as everyone else who lived down there so he was a good choice for them. But that pissed lincun off even more. Lincun was like "who is this gaylord who thinks hes president?"�

At first the dicksees were winning really bad cuz they had a general named Jet Lee. He was this really badass Chinese guy who could do crazy fight scenes and could like walk on trees and water and stuff. The Yankees must have seen some of his movies cuz they could never beat him. But then the Yankees got their own general. General Grant was on the $50 bills before he joined the army. Once they got him he drank a lot but he also killed a lot of dicksees.

There was this really big battle at Gettysburg college where my sister goes. That was farthest north that the dicksees were allowed to go so that's where they fought. Some people say that there was 25 million people dead that day, but its probably more. After that battle president lincun made a speech called the emancipation proclamation. It was really good and really famous. He started it by saying, "fourscore and seventy years ago, are four fathers brought fourth fathers."�

Eventually, the dicksees ran out of bullets and had to quit that war. All the slaves got set free and they were all really happy cuz then they were totally ekwill with the dicksees. They had to take down there flag and Jefferson airplane got his house made into a seminary called Arlington. Sadly, president lincun was shot in the head in dallas while riding in a convertible shortly after the war ended.

The civil war was a really good war even though everybody died. It made sure there was no more slaves and made sure we only had one flag.

By Rachel M. Kiley
 

Whilst staring in mirror
Just the other day
I saw a sight which didn't seem
Like it was doing okay.

These past few years
No more than five I'm sure
My body has taken a turn for the worse
And there may not be a cure.

My breasts did sag
My stomach stuck out
The speckled dots all over my feet
Looked and smelled of gout.

What can I do, I asked myself
To cure this horrible sight
I could take pills or get my thrills
By eating healthy, right?

Be that as it may, I'm a slave to meat
And butter and cream to boot
And those pricey pills, so quick and easy
Cost way too much loot.

Ah Ha! I thought, I know what to do
I'll join a gym and then
I can get all fit without a diet.
I'll be strong and quick and thin!

Four days a week I gather the strength
To drive to my little gym
And ride on the bike, swim in the pool
And lift things again and again.

It has been two months since I started this
And the benefits have yet to show
For while my shoulders get broader and my chest gets harder
My hips continue to grow.

But it's not my body that's concerning me now
It's something that has no good
There's a man by the showers, all covered in powder
Who keeps staring at my manhood.

Why can't I change in peace,
With some semblance of privacy?
I suppose that my shlong, which isn't that long
May have given this man some jealousy.

I paid a serious amount of cash
To use that tiny gym room
All I got was a skin rash
While my love handles continue to bloom.

Looking back on it now, some things have come clear
I wasted my money when I could have saved.
I got fatter when I should have lost weight.
And some people in the locker room don't know how to behave.
 

Hello"¦Welcome. I hear you are interested in some prison real estate. Well, you've come to the right warden. Have a seat"¦guard, will you loosen his shackles? Ok, I have a whole host of properties here for you to look at. Now, what are you in for? Assault with a deadly weapon? OK...That rules out some of our minimum security properties. But, I think we can still find you something very nice. Let's see here"¦

Oh, Ok. Have a look at this right here. This one just came on the market. Who lived there before? Let me just get the file"¦ok, his name was Raymond "Slice"� Tolson. He was doing 35 to 60 for manslaughter. According to this he was set on fire in the recreation yard a week ago. Lucky you! I guess you got sentenced at the right time. Anyways, this cell is in the fashionable "D-Block"� section of the prison. It has one barred window which overlooks the rec yard. It's a single, which is nice if you like to not get raped that often. It comes with a toilet, a mattress, and whatever Slice left behind. This, and I really mean this, is one of the best cells we have here. Not interested? Ok"¦ok, not a problem, we have plenty more to look at here.

You say you're looking for something more historic? Ok, well we don't have anything Colonial or Victorian, but we do have really nice pre-war cells over in cell block A. Let's have a look"¦Oh, wow. This one here is a steal. Have a look at this picture. See all those tick marks in the wall? Those are from prisoners counting down their sentences. Can't you just feel the history in the cell? Now, this particular cell is a double which means you'll be living with"¦let me just look at the file here"¦Rocko Mazarachio; convicted of racketeering in 1975, 40 year sentence. You guys will have plenty of time to get to know each other. We let you work out the bunk arrangements and such, but you will have to share the bathroom. The good news is that this property is only a stones throw from the laundry so you'll never get cold. Does Rocko have any history of sexually assaulting prisoners? Well"¦yes, yes he does. But he recently was diagnosed with diabetes so that should be slowing him down. No? Not a problem.

Ok, maybe cell block F would be more to your liking. It's the newest wing of the prison and these cells are flying off the shelf like hot cakes. You should seriously consider taking one of these. If you'll just look at this picture, you'll see that we have replaced the standard "bars"� with plexi-lass sliding doors. Can you say "peace and quiet"�? What's that? No, you cannot open them anytime you like, they are sealed with a 10,000 Lb vacuum gasket. But, look at this view! This is a fourth tier cell, meaning that you can look out over the whole cell block. Cellmates? No, this is also a single. Listen"¦I didn't want to tell you this because I didn't want to affect your decision, but I want to let you in on a little secret. You have to promise me you won't tell anyone I told you this. Ok? Great, this cell is supposed to be reserved for solitary. I mean the real nutjobs. But I see something in you"¦I know you'll take good care of it. Call me crazy, but I think this is the cell for you. Am I right?

I knew it. Well, I am so glad we could get you into a cell today. Here is your new address; Pauly Colico, Inmate #1220-98-G53, Cell Block F, 4th Tier, cell #57. I really hope you love it there. Please, if there are any problems -rapes, rats, overflowing toilets, shankings- anything, don't hesitate to call me. Ok, guard"¦we're done here. Strip him down for the delousing. Mr. Colico"¦or should I say #1220-98-G53, welcome to prison! Oh, and don't be alarmed if some of the inmates come sniffing around your cell tonight"¦they are just being neighborly.
 

Do You Want The Moon, Marie?, By Streeter Seidell

Do you want the moon, Marie?
Let me pull it down for you like in that Jim Carey movie.

Do you want the stars, Marie?
I will gather them in a love bucket and give them to you.

I burn for you like the stars burn in heaven.
And heaven is where I am with you"¦with you.

But it is not a white heaven without you,
It is black with loneliness"¦heartache"¦desire.

I am the devil cast out of your heart-paradise
Will you open it for me?
Will you let me back in?
Love
lOve
loVe
lovE
LOVE is what I want to give you, Marie.

Do you want the moon, Marie?
Do you want the stars, Marie?
Do you want me to love you, Marie?

Tell Jason after school your answer because I have detention and then I have a driving lesson so I won't be home till 7.

Love, Streeter?
 

As summer draws to a close, you'll probably find yourself wishing you did more with your free time. But it is never too late to have an adventure and it looks like the fat lady has laryngitis and can't quite make it to the stage just yet. Here are some great last minute ideas to milk these last couple weeks of the summer for all it's worth.

Get a tattoo: What better way to commemorate what a "totally friggin awesome"� summer this has been than with a little permanent ink? Wow your friends when you get back to school with that really cool butterfly above your ass crack (look"¦It's purple AND blue!). If you're a fellow, why not try one of the many intriguing barbed wire arm wraps available? Looks like Nick Lachey is one step ahead of you"¦AGAIN! If you like drugs, you can always get a "tribal"�: which is just another word for a drawing your stoned friend did on a notebook one day.

Go Skydiving: If you have made it through the summer without seriously injuring yourself, you must be lucky. And why not test that luck by jumping out of a plane 10,000 feet above the ground with nothing but some nylon and a guy from New Zealand on your back to keep you from turning into baby shit? Feel the shit leak from your anus as you plummet at over 100 mph to your semi-certain demise. The good news is you can get a video of this. And believe me, you never look more attractive than when you have 100 mph winds making sure the viewer can see every lipid of fat in your face flapping in the wind like a proud flag. For only $200 you can feel like you're going to die for over 35 SECONDS"¦WOW!

Go Skinny Dipping: Finally see what all your friends are working with! Going skinny dipping is a great way to look at all your friends naked under the guise of an innocent desire to swim naked. If you throw in some alcohol, these little get-togethers could take a turn for the sexy. Try playing "dirty truth or dare"� (always pick dare) or "let's all take a shower."� (use warm water) Of course, naked, backwards chicken fight is only to be performed by the closest of friends.

Take a Road Trip: Beep beep, there goes all the money you saved this summer! A simple two day jaunt with your buds to the shore can quickly deplete any money you managed to keep out of your greedy hands this summer. Your best friend will insist on staying in the nicest place, your other bud will make you stay 3 extra days to chase some girl around, and that kid you didn't really want to come will blow the rest of it right up his nose! Oh well, looks like another semester of Ramen Noodles and Milwaukee's Best"¦but at least you have the memories.

Try the Impossible: They say your first love's your only love. And what better way to spend these last few weeks than desperately trying to nail your high school crush before he/she goes back to school. Humiliation never tasted so useless. Try these little gems out on them, "I always had such a crush on you."� "You definitely didn't gain any weight."� "remember that one night we almost hooked up"¦"� "No, I just got tested last week."� Don't be depressed if all you get is a peck on the cheek and a promise to "totally IM you this year,"� because at least you tried.

Finally Use That Fake ID: You bought it at school from the weird kid at the end of the hall. You used it to get into all the bars at school. You swore you'd use it all summer and party at all the places in your town. But you have yet to even take it out of your wallet. Suck it up and whip that baby out. Who knows, you could be buying booze for all your friends for the rest of the summer or finally partying with all those 35 year-olds down at the hotel bar.

Go To The Gym: You promised yourself sometime around last March that you would spend the summer getting "fuckin jacked,"� but you didn't, did you? Well, it's never too late to give it a half-asses attempt. Spend up to an hour a week working out in that new gym you joined 2 months ago for only $399. Maybe your friend's won't call you "Tits"� when you get back to school. Maybe"¦but probably not.

Go See A Concert: Uh Oh, looks like it's time for a little live music fiesta! You spent all summer getting ready for that Dave or Phish show and that time has finally come. Pack up your psychedelic drugs, grab your tent, bag up that granola and don't shower because you've got a festival to attend. In your mind, you see a whole weekend of sexual and mental bliss all set to the soundtrack of a truly "revolutionary"� jam band. In reality, you will probably not have enough water, have to shit in the woods, have to take care of "Trevor"� who took "way too much shit,"� and maybe get arrested for possession. Oh well, did you hear the solo on "farmhouse"�?

Watch TV: Now here is something that makes sense. Your job ended, you have some money saved up, and you have 2 ½ weeks left before your do back to resume your boredom. Just sit back and watch some TV. Let all your friends blow their money on stupid, desperate pursuits while you sit in your air conditioned house, fanning yourself with all your money. Sure, they'll spend those first few weeks of school showing off their tattoos, looking at pictures from Bonaroo, flexing in the mirror, and telling you tales about their "crazy"� trip to Atlantic City. Listen politely, laugh a little, nod your head, but then sit back, light a Cuban with a $100 bill, and laugh your ass off at them.

 

Dear Grandma,

How are you? I hope you don't still miss grandpa; he's in a better place now. He just needs to start over in Florida and you need to give him his freedom. Anyways, don't worry about the divorce; we all support you and we're prepared to back that up in court.

On a brighter note, things here at Camp Wanapasakee are really good. I wish you could see this place, it's amazing. There is this huge lake that is fed by all the waste pipes from the city. I know, I know; it sounds disgusting. But my counselor told me that the water is filtered and that its good for the planet because we're not wasting water"¦we're recycling it.

Speaking of my counselor, he's the best. His name is Randy, but all the other counselors call him Bong. I don't really get his nickname but I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that he plays the bongo drums. He's really into this band called Fish and he said he used to follow them all over the country and experiment with stuff. He wouldn't tell us what he was experimenting with but I bet it has something to do with plants because he is growing a bunch of them in his trunk. I don't know why he keeps the plants in his trunk but they really smell"¦maybe that's why. Sometimes the whole tent smells like it when we come back from lunch. I always know he's working hard because he falls asleep ALL THE TIME!

My tent-mates are really cool guys. They all know each other from school so I'm kind of the outsider. Sometimes I hear them doing things at night when they think I'm asleep. It sounds like they're trying to lift heavy things because they grunt a lot and then they talk about how sweaty they are and how "hard?"� they are. I don't know? It's probably something from their school. They all have a lisp and that must be because they all come from New Hampshire. I guess people up there just talk like that???

The only bad thing is the bugs. There are mosquitoes everywhere! Plus, some of the other counselors were telling Randy that he left roaches lying around the dock but I haven't seen any. I hope they don't get into my tent. The only thing I've seen lying around on the floor are just a bunch of tiny pieces of burnt paper. I don't know where those came from but they definitely aren't roaches.

Oh, I almost forgot. I met a girl. She's 12 just like me and is from Long Island. Don't worry about me and her; she said she couldn't do anything serious because she is a pre-op. That must mean she's really religious or something which is fine by me. I just like having someone to hold hands and play football with. It's kind of embarrassing because she has a lower voice than me and is way taller. But I guess girls just grow faster than boys do.

Oh yeah, there is this really cool song we sing before we eat lunch and dinner. Randy taught it to us and it's the official camp Wanapasakee song. It goes like this; "Summertime is here again and you know what that means/ It's time for fun at camp and a whole lot of weed/ Getting shitty at the lake off Tom's four foot bong/ we're fried as hell straight to the skull as we sing this song/ Camp Wanapasakee we love you like a friend/ But when that cheeba's running low/ the summers got to end!"� Randy makes us sing it for the other counselors and they all crack up. I don't get a lot of the song but I'm sure I will by the end of the summer.

I'm really excited because tonight some of the guys from the 14-15 year-old camp invited me to play ookie cookie with them. I don't really know what it is but they told me we all sit in a circle and there is a cookie in the middle and the winner gets to eat it. It sounds like a lot of fun. After that they promised to give me a swirlie which must be some kind of ice cream like a blizzard at DQ. Those guys are the best.

Well, I've got to wake up Randy and go meet the older guys but I hope you're doing fine and I hope the pills are working. We don't want you trying to stab the cleaning lady again! Write me as soon as they let you out of the asylum and say hi to my sister for me"¦it's been too long since I've visited her grave. I love you so much Grandma and I hope to hear from you soon.

Love,
Your Grandson, Kyle

Have a great weekend and be sure to get so drunk that your friends tie you up and suspend your drunk ass from the ceiling. Now some hotlinks... 

Oh God, I hope someone is reading this. Please help me, I've been taken prisoner by a devious pack of internet entrepreneurs, better known as the four young men who run this website. Oh god, I'm so cold"¦they have me locked up somewhere in their apartment building in Manhattan. Thank God I was able to make a primitive computer out of some old chicken bones, a Golden Grahams box, and the fifty feet of vacuum tubing that was lying around. Jesus, I wish they would loosen these restraints; I can't feel my feet. I never thought that the four guys that run this site, Ricky, Josh, Jakob and Zach could do such a thing. They seemed so nice and normal when I met them for the first time a few weeks ago. Why, I can remember it like it was yesterday"¦

It was just another summer's eve as I strolled into their new apartment in New York City's Tribeca. The building had an air of artistry and the temporary space they occupied was sparsely hip. I was welcomed with open arms and given a brief tour of the space. Everything seemed normal, but thinking back, Jakob did have a devilish twinkle in his eye. I assumed it was nothing more than slight astigmatism.

After the tour, we retired to the sitting area. With a sly smile, Ricky offered me a drink and I gratefully accepted. I should have left then because as Ricky rose to fetch my drink, he and Josh smirked to each other in the way only two people who know a terrible secret can. Of course, I wanted to make a good impression so I brushed it off as the reaffirmation of some old joke, or even a slight attraction betwixt the two.

The drink Ricky returned with looked as none I have ever seen before. The cocktail glowed an ominous green and was held in a massive glass and gold chalice. In the forefront of the glassware was the collegehumor jester but instead of being a devious trickster, the jester was nothing more than a smiling skull. I began to shiver with fear and tried to excuse myself. Zach slammed his hand down on my shoulders; "Why don't you stay a while"¦a long while,"� he said as Ricky poured the libation down my throat.

The room began to spin and I sat helpless as the four looked on, each of them grinning ear to ear. The last thing I heard before I succumbed to the powerful sedative in the drink was Jakob. "Get the restraints,"� he bellowed as feet shuffled and metal clinked.

The next two weeks are a blur. Ricky and Josh kept me on the edge of copiousness with more and more cocktails. I tried over and over to break free from the leather restraints that kept me solidly stuck to the medical examiner's table which they had strapped me to, but to no avail. Like mad scientists, they would enter my chamber each day with some new, horrible implement of torture. Groggily, I would protest their sick experiments, but my position did not lend itself to negotiation. One day, my face was covered expletives written in sharpie, touting my love for African-American genitalia. Another day Jakob poured an entire bag of flour about my face and body, treating me no better than a piece of chicken ready for frying. I had my body hair shaved into patterns that represented penises. I was placed under a sun lamp with the word "fag"� written across my chest in sunscreen and was left with the sexist term temporarily scalded on my skin. Through all of these sick experiments, the four laughed as if my shame was entertainment to them.

Like all evil geniuses, the four revealed their grand plan to me after some time. They sat in four plush, velvet chairs as I was hoisted to an upright position. Each wore a cloak and held in his hand a scepter. Though I was not of full comprehension, I managed to retain that I was being held in collegehumor's secret Shaming Laboratory. Here, the four devils test and photograph new shaming methods for distribution to the wider world. They expressed regret that I had to be used for such a degrading purpose, but also insisted that I was doing the world a great service by involuntarily volunteering my body for the science.

Since then, I have sat here cold and alone, always awaiting their inevitable return to test their sick science on me. I can only hope that they will tire of this pursuit and free me, but maniacal geniuses are notoriously dedicated. Please"¦please, help me if you can. I fear I will my constitution cannot stand any more marker ink or flour and I have a sneaking suspicions that somewhere on my lower back is written an invitation to men to enter my hind-parts. I can only solemnly hope that you hear this cry and come to my swift rescue. Oh god"¦I think I hear them coming"¦Josh just said something about putting his buttocks near my face as I sleep"¦Oh god"¦Oh G"¦
 

Hate List XVII

After a brief hiatus where my computer became infected with a great virus, the Famous Hate List is back. This week, we have some truly inspired hate from all over the country. As the summer draws to a close, and the humidity reaches maximum ball-sweatiness, the hate has flowed like never before. Welcome to the 17th edition of the Famous Hate List.

If you would like to show everyone that you have a basic grasp of grammar and a really bitter personality, email me your hate list submission at suxatlife@hotmail.com!

MINE:

Republicans: I am a liberal and I will tell you why; I don't have anything. If I owned anything or had some sort of wealth, I would probably be a conservative so I could keep all the stuff I had. Being that I do not have any stuff, I prefer a party that promises to give me some of that stuff for free. That being said, I didn't really have any problems with republicans before this week. Sure, I didn't agree with their beliefs but it was a merely intellectual grudge, not a personal one. Now, with the republican convention coming to New York in a few weeks, that intellectual grudge has turned into relentless hate. Holding their convention in the middle of New York is like dangling a sausage in the face of a German for the terrorists. It's just so tempting. The government knows how tempting this is to the terrorists and taken serious"¦no, extremely serious measures to keep the city "safe."� And these are what have me hating the republicans. Where it used to take me 20 minutes to get home from work, it now takes 1 ½ hours"¦Thanks Bush. They check every fucking truck on the highway, flag down cars, and create a giant traffic jam from Connecticut to New York. Why don't they just hold their fucking convention in Austin, TX or Fargo? At least the people there like them. To the republicans, Thank you for making my drive home from work so enjoyable. Thank you for closing the bridges and tunnels. Thank you for putting a giant bull's eye over New York. But seriously, get the fuck out of my city, you dirtbags"¦I Hate You!

Laughing Lamar: A few weeks ago I had my car robbed. In the theft, I lost my CD player and all of my CDs. Since then, I have driven around in silence, doing much more thinking than I should. After a week or two I came to a realization; I really annoy myself. My mind just wont shut the hell up and it drove me to insanity. So, a few days ago I purchased a discman (my original one was also stolen) and burned a few CDs to listen to in the car. I could have brought a new CD player but, with the condition of my car, that would be like putting a new engine in the Titanic. Illegally, I have been riding around for a few days with my headphones on, rocking out. But since I live in the ghetto where little is as cherished as a thumping system, I have become a mobile joke to the entire neighborhood. They laugh and point as I bob my head and sing to what appears to them to be a silent song. I know I look funny, but if one of you hadn't stolen my stereo we wouldn't be in this mess. There is one guy especially who thinks it is particularly funny"¦he is homeless. I don't mind a joke at my expense, but when you eat my garbage, I don't think you are really in a position to make fun of me. How did that chicken I made last week taste? I hope you're enjoying my old beer bottles. Next time I see you laughing at me, maybe I'll turn the other cheek and throw a half eaten snickers out the window for you"¦I Hate You!

Larry Lingering Goodbye: What is so difficult about saying goodbye? I mean, you have a whole range of send offs to choose from: later, goodnight, peace, see ya, peace out, take it easy, goodbye, bye, talk to you later, catch ya on the flip side, etc"¦So why do you insist on saying every one of them to me when it comes time for us to stop speaking? Whether you are talking on the phone, in person or on the computer, Larry just can't seem to let the conversation end gracefully. It will go as such.
*Aight, I gota go Larry, I'll see ya later."�
*Cool, pce.
*Yeah
*aight, goodnight
*yeah
*keep it real
*I will
*take it easy
*I'll try
*fare thee well
*what?
I want to hang up, Larry. I don't want to sit here well-wishings with you for the next hour. Just say goodbye and shut the fuck up. For future reference, I plan on taking it easy, having a good night, and keeping it real. So now you don't have to instruct me to do such things every time I'm trying to get back to the TV show I was watching. You can officially say "goodbye"� to my friendship, and say it as many times as you want"¦I Hate You!

YOURS:

Reader Erin M. really hates: The Olive Garden. Those fucking commercials..."When my uncle from Sicily comes to visit, we know that taking him to Olive Garden because we know their homemade food will make him feel right at home." No it fucking won't! I hate these small town folks who see these commercials and think they're getting an authentic Italian dining experience by going to Olive Garden. The dry cleaners I used to work at was in the same shopping center as an Olive Garden, and every evening by 5:30 every parking spot was taken; they even made their own makeshift parking lot over in the grass so they could wait and hour and a half to have their authentic Italian dinner...are you fucking kidding me?! Either stay at home or suck it up and shell out some extra money for an actual good Italian dinner. Olive Garden, with your shitty food and white trash patrons, I Hate You!

Reader Nicole really hates: The girls who get made up to go to the beach.... The beach is there so you can go and relax and be in the water and sand, and just have a good time. I understand if you don't want to look like a scumbag in front of all the "hot" guys, but seriously, do you need a full face of make-up, and hour spent on your hair, and your nails perfectly done? It usually would be pointless because all of that shit would wash off in the ocean anyway, but no, these girls go to the beach just to be admired. They don't go in the water, or play games with friends, they lie there, in posed position, scoffing at everyone else. And when a guy does come up to talk to them, they tell them to fuck off, unless they are model material. I understand that girls can be high maintenance, as i am when i am getting dressed to go out at night, which is at most an hour. But when your friends are getting pissed off because they want to go lay in the sun, and you need to apply another layer of mascara, i hope your friends fucking throw you in a river of poo with your $500 Prada bathing suit on! I hate you!

Nicole also hates: People who get in your way and act like it's your fault... I understand if two people run into each other by accident, and it is both parties' fault. But when you have a clear path, and someone steps right in front of you, bumps into you, and slams you into the wall, and then just says "OH!" and turns and gives you a dirty look, well you suck my bellybutton. A lady that I work with always manages to step on my foot, or push me or something, and never offers a quick "oh, sorry, didn't see you there" or anything. Or she'll just move my stuff to the side to get it out of her way. Like the whole world was fucking made for her, and I'm just always in HER way. I'm going to start slamming into her and then scream in her face "Watch it bitch, I'm walking here!" I hate you!

Reader Mike from New Haven really hates: "Joke stealing Johnny": This fuck is the person who steals a quote or joke from a movie, and passes it off as his own. You uninventive, talent-less fuck, get a fucking life and come up with your own jokes for fuck's sake. Other assholes who quote movies at least do so while pretending to be the person but not this fuckshit. I'm sure you'll get laid with that original joke that sounded a little too much like that line from Old School. Go fuck yourself you plagiarizing shitcock, I HATE YOU.

Reader Lacey really hates: Willy the Weird Theater Freak: This is the kid who takes the phrase "all the world is a stage" a little too literally. He is always surrounded by his other freaky little theater friends who are always singing and wearing freaky stage makeup for their fucking show they have 8 hours later and they always seem to be really, really loud and obnoxious at ALL times. And oh, um, Professor, its opening night so can the test be on Monday instead of tomorrow cause me and Dana the Dumb Dancer and Gary the Gay Actor won't be done with the show till like 4am. No, you fucking drama queen! Just because you and your overly-excited metrosexual friends have some little show tonight doesn't mean the rest of us should have to retain this information all weekend! I have things to do to! Like go to my sorority/fraternity mixer and sleep all day. You should have studied earlier instead of practicing your tap dancing all night in the room above me while I was trying to study.... cry me a river, I fucking hate you!!!

"Lacey"� also hates: Samantha Stalks-A-Lot: This is the bitch who hates you for simply for existing but clicks on the link in your profile that says "pics!" (and at the same time their screenname is logged at IMchaos) about eighty fucking times a week. Hey, cuntrag, if you hate me so much, why are you fucking obsessed with looking at pictures of me and my friends out having fun? Oh, maybe its cause you only have a total of two nasty ass bitch friends and your daddy's money to keep you entertained. Not everyone can be me and my friends, but hey, someone has to sit on the curb and clap as we go by, and apparently you like to do that about eighty times a week. So, you trashy whore with bangs, until you get enough courage to ask for an autographed picture, WE HATE YOU!

Reader Patrick F. really hates: "The fat guy who thinks his fat is actually muscle"
Congratulations, you were a mediocre football player in high school, dumb as a brick, and for some odd reason you are under the impression that since you weigh 350lbs you are a total stud. I am here to clear some things up for you. Just because you can fill out an under-armor shirt with ease (as well as an industrial sized trash bag), this does not entitle you to strut around campus like you're fucking Schwarzeneger(spell check??). Sure, you might be pretty strong, but do you realize that no one is impressed with your love handles, gut that obscures the sight of your genitalia, and your man breasts that you so proudly display when you puff out your chest and hold your arms to side like you are carrying two pony kegs. And please don't accuse me of being inconsiderate to people who are overweight, I just cant stand to see some egotistical meat-head walk around and flex as if his gooey physique may actually resemble that of a human being's, instead of an amoeba. But hey, who am I to tell you what to do with your life. If you sincerely think that you are buff, keep wearing those undersized polo shirts with the collar popped, keep posing like The Hulkster during games of beer pong, and keep consuming ungodly amounts of creatine sans working out, you look good! Who needs a low blood pressure, and un-congested arteries anyways? Oh, and one more thing, keep this in mind...I Hate You!

Reader Peter H. really hates: "Wanna come look at my truck?" guy. Here I am, taking you to parties to help you meet some new people, because all your old friends hate you, and what do you do? You search out every single girl I have even the slightest interest in, and use your fucking $30,000 truck as a goddamn bachelor pad on wheels. Way to pay me back for helping you get out of the house you ass-hat. The shenaniganry is at an end, my mentally impaired former friend. Don't be surprised if the next time you take someone out to that truck it smells like someone's pissed all over the seat and I am nowhere to be found. That's right! Your 15 mpg land yacht, you know the one with that huge bed and towing you don't need? It's becoming my personal high dollar commode! So FUCK YOU, you superficial materialistic piece of shit, I HATE YOU!

Reader Karl H. really hates: Bible Boy-We've all been in this situation, we're sitting by ourselves in a secluded area, reading, studying, or last minute cramming, whatever. Some asshole comes up to you and starts small talk. Ok, I'll humor you and converse with you for a little bit. Then they ask you if you're saved and if you want to come to bible study. HELL NO! Please, I think I can consider myself a religious person, I go to church, but I keep it to myself, and I don't try to push my beliefs on other people. Don't try to show me the path to heaven because FUCK YOU! You don't know it either! Don't give me any bible quotes and don't impose your Christian bible bullshit on me. I'm already a Christian... A Christian who HATES YOU!

Karl also hates: Loud Laugh/Happy Clappy-These are two forms of a similar demon. They complement each other sort of like an incubus and a succubus. Both laugh at everything, regardless of whether or not it's funny, but especially if one of them says it. Loud Laugh to professor: "Well, the Reformation was obviously a result of the downfall of feudal society in the Middle Ages. WHAAAAAAAH HAAAAAAA HAAAAAA!!!!!" The change in air pressure of the room caused by this rush of wind then causes several people to pass out, and people on other floors take a moment to ponder what could be so funny to merit the uproarious ruckus coming from somewhere else far away but in the same building. Happy Clappy follows Loud Laugh's example and giggles, not particularly loud, but equally obnoxious because of the wild hand clapping which accompanies his laughter. SHUT THE HELL UP!!! It wasn't even meant to be funny, why do you laugh, Loud Laugh? And Happy Clappy, why do you give a standing ovation to every humorous or not-so-humorous event? I HATE YOU BOTH!

Reader Jacqueline M. really hates: the "Guy at the bar who thinks because you're a chick you can't shoot pool". This is the guy who shows up when he sees chicks playing pool and proceeds to show the females where to hit the ball and how to get the other ball in. NO SHIT bastard, I wouldn't be playing pool in public if I didn't know how. Did ever come across your pea sized brain that chicks can play this too? Just because I have boobs doesn't mean I don't know how to A) rack the balls, B) break, C) cut the ball into the pocket, or D) hold a pool stick. Maybe you should take your piece of shit-ness out of the bar because you aint helping anyone, all your suggestions are totally off and I can shoot better than you ever will. So next time you see me at the bar, by the pool table, stay the hell away because I HATE YOU!

Finally, reader Timothy P. really hates: The 12 Hour a Week Kid. This is a kid who got a job because everyone else did and he was bored, he only works about three four hour shifts a week and gets paid 15-20 dollars an hour while the rest of us work 10 hour days 6 days a week to get by. This is the same fucker that is too tired to do anything cuz they have to work at Noon the next day. But he is never too tired to bitch about how hard it is to work. Dude, quit your job or quit your bitching, I fucking hate you.

Well, that's all the hate for this week. Join me next week for more of that bitter, angry ranting you've come to know and love. And remember, send me your hate list submission at suxatlife@hotmail.com. This is Streeter Seidell, on behalf of the Famous Hate List, saying farewell, goodbye, peace out, lata, and goodnight.
 

Timothy Richard Jenkins
Mrs. Grisby
8th grade Social Studies
4th period

The History of rock and roll

Lots of years ago there was black people everyware. They made up lots of songs about stuff but nobody cared about them because they weren't elvis. Most of the black people had guitars and so they made guitar songs and sang them on the shitlin circuit. They didnt call it rock and roll and roll: they called is rithum and bluegrass.

Like i sed befour, noone cared about the black people and there musics. Until elvis prezly started to sing it. He was a tank driver in the airforce in germany but he came back to Maryland to record songs in son stoodios with sam fillips. There first song was called "she loves you ya ya ya"� and when he came over from England everyone loved him, even the black people who invenmted the rock.

Now that elvis was singing the rock and roll, all of the black people that made it were really happy to see someone making money from there inventions. Some even made money too like chuck barrrie, james brown, and Mc'Hammer. So everyone in the world really likes rock and roll music and black people. But then buddy holly and the big boner and alyiha died in a car crash and the rock died and there was a song about it too.

Thanks God for the beetals becuz they came a few weeks after and everyone liked rock again. They were from liverpuddle and they sang fun songs about being from there. They didn't sound like elvis and all had hair down to their butss. All the old people thought they were gaylords but all the young people didn't. Sadly John got shot in a Memphis hotel room, paul choked on a ham sandwich and ring go has a big nose.

Then came hippies who my dad says were just nerds with long hair who took drugs. They had this big concert in new jersey called Woodstock and everyone was naked and muddy. All of the big bands played there ; Limp Biscut, red hot chili peppers, and dave mathyoos band. There was lots of rain and tickets were really expensive so people burned all of the bands alive, that is why limp biscut doesn't do anything anymore.

In the 70ies, people made harder rock music and people also kept growing there hair. The best band from then was called led zeppelin and they were really good. My older brother has all of their tshirts and they all have cool castles and stuff on them. Then people started to smash there guitars and before you know it there was no more rock and roll.

Even thoo there are no more rock and roll bands, the music will live forever. My dads till listenz to his rock and roll cds in the car and really likes them. I like Nelly.
 

The Trouble With Being Irish

I suppose I should come right out and say that I am not %100 Irish. I am a mix of many European nations; basically a random sample of all the countries that currently hate us. However, while I may be a pinch German and a splash of English with a dash"¦just a dash of Polish thrown in, I am mostly Irish. While some pure bred Irish people think this a crime, I can't help it. So some of my ancestors were attracted to people other than the Irish"¦I can't say I blame them.

Now, a lot of non-Irish people think that being Irish is really great. Hell, you get to really, really party on St. Patty's and you can drink a lot. Do not be so foolish; being Irish is no dream and let me tell you why.

Let's begin with complexion. People try to be nice by calling our skin "fair"� but we all know what they really mean is "frighteningly pale."� Many thousands of years ago, a man named Patrick O'Haloran saw a glass of milk sitting on the table. "Hmmm,"� thought Patrick, "I sure wouldn't mind breeding with that lil' lass over there."� After a few months the glass of pure white milk gave birth to a little baby with pure white skin like the milk and many small brown spots like its father. And so was born the Irish complexion: milky, sickly white with freckles everywhere"¦EVERYWHERE. My shoulders are covered in what appear to be leeches but, on closer inspection turn out to be potential cancer-causing freckles. Yay!

And don't think that this skin takes well to sun. Ireland is a cloudy, cold little island so, when the Irish were transplanted to America, we invented the first sunburn. But a burn is not really what it is. Sure, it turns red for a few minutes, but it really should be called a sun-peel, because that is exactly what happens. If you ever want to know what it feels like to actually shed an entire layer of skin at once, be Irish for a day in the summer. We're like snakes except nobody wants to make boots out of us. If you happen to be Irish with red hair, you don't even peel, you just turn into a gigantic blister. Oh, and let's not get started on Irish Teeth. Go to Ireland and you'll find that they love green so much, they've let their teeth turn that color too!

So, we've got that great skin and those neat teeth going for us but there is so much more to being Irish. Let's talk for a minute about the reputation. I guess it is ok to be able to drink a lot when you're in college. But I don't think the Irish thirst will work so well in the business world. "O'Neil, great job on that Swanson deal. You really showed this company what you're made of. And great job on drinking that bottle of whiskey in the break room, really impressive stuff."�

Plus, what do you do when you're drunk? That's right, you dance. Take a look at all the cultures of the world and see who has the stupidest dancing. Nope, not the Nigerians, not even the Croatians"¦It's the Irish. Irish dancing consists of keeping your hands glued to your sides, not making any facial expression, and comically tapping your feet"¦really sexy. They say that the better dancer a person is, the better they are in bed. Shit.

Also, the Irish are not particularly famous for their massive genitalia. In fact, it's just the opposite. It seems that the damp, cold air of Ireland have made us evolve slightly shorter than the rest of the world. Somewhere in evolution, the Irish gene said, "Hey, why do we need to have a head AND a shaft? Let's just grow the head."� Coincidently, the Irish penis is not blessed with the gift of giganticism but rather the curse of cuteness. Maybe that is why we Ireland has produced so many great writers and thinkers; they couldn't get any girls so they turned to artistic pursuits instead. Plus, red pubic hair on a man is absolutely revolting I'm told.

It's hard getting girls when you've packing a Vienna sausage, but it's even harder when you're poor. And what luck! The Irish have one of the poorest histories on the planet. Thanks their loving neighbor, the British, the Irish were poor for so long they had to commemorate their poverty in fable. Only a poverty-racked nation would concoct a story about a little green man who hides a huge pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. The only problem is the little leprechaun can never be caught and there is no end to a rainbow. God, that's sad.

With all of these horrible things about being Irish, you would think that we would indulge in eating binges to pacify our laments. But, if you have even been treated to Irish cuisine, you would know why the Irish turn to drink instead of food for comfort. The Irish do not have what you would call a "sophisticated pallet."� Instead, we have learned how to make food that is actually used on murder suspects to make them talk. How about we take a tour of some Irish culinary accomplishments? Let's start with corned beef and cabbage. Take the worst piece of meat on a cow and the most disgusting and stinky vegetable, cut them up, and cook in a pot until the entire house reeks of poverty! Then you must try some Irish stew. It's simple to make. Just take whatever you can pull out of the ground, kill whatever animal you can catch and cook in a pot with some water. And for desert, why not have some dirt flambé? Almost all Irish food is prepared by putting a smelly vegetable and some bad meat in a pot and cooking it till it no longer retains any taste. That's how people made food when Jesus was around"¦it's time to update our methods.

But the absolute worst thing about being Irish is the religion; Catholicism. I was raised Catholic and I still am. The religion is fine and its basic beliefs are good, but it's the guilt that kills me. I can't do anything without feeling slightly ashamed. When I first learned to please myself via my hand and my grandfather's magazines, I honestly thought God and Jesus were sitting up in heaven watching me; "Well, there he goes again"¦Peter, tack on another three years in purgatory."� I, like many of my Catholic brethren, spend my days wondering if I am ever going to have to pay for all the sins I've committed. I really hope not, because I have done some awful things like eating meat on a Friday, saying "goddamn it,"� steeling my neighbor's girlfriend, and coveting oh so many things. I guess I'll be burning my after-days away.

I don't want you to think that being Irish is all bad. In fact, there are some perks. Irish music is really good and interestingly is the root, along with African rhythms, of rock and roll. We share everything we have; like St. Patty's day"¦you can party that day too. Not like those greedy Puerto Rican's who keep their day to themselves. Plus, we are always fun to have at a party. Hell, we can make anything a party, just go to an Irish funeral. I guess what I am saying is, while I dislike my pasty skin, small penis, and alcohol problem, I really am proud to be Irish. Now, someone get over here and kiss me"¦these teeth aren't getting any greener!