Streeter Seidell's Article Archive
15 total in November 2004The Streety Awards III: Winners
Ladies and Gentlemen, the votes have been tallied and checked over twice. Without further ado, I present your winners for the Third Streety Awards. Thanks to all of you who voted.
Biggest Lips: Our first category was one of the closest. Hillary Duff showed some respectable numbers snagging 19% of the vote. Jenna Jameson did even better with 21% of the vote for her - ahem - nether parts. But the race came down to two very worthy adversaries. In the right corner we have Angelina Jolie: film star, goodwill ambassador and well-known full blown lunatic. In the left corner we have that guy from Forest Gump: African American, b-lister and the reason my Dad really likes buying shrimp. It was close but someone had to win and I am proud to announce that Ms. Jolie has taken the category. Congratulations Angelina, maybe to celebrate you can go make out with your brother!
Preferred Brand of Bottled Water: Well, I won't say that you guys have no class, but Fiji brand water didn't even make a dent in this category. It seems that none of you really want to pay $11 for a bottle of water. The clear (hahaha, get it?) winner was Poland Springs with 62% of the votes. Ol' Sammy's Bottled Cure-All Tonic also did well with 18% of the vote"not bad for an imaginary product. This category also produced some very angry write-ins, most noteably, "Seriously, who the fuck drinks water they pay for? It's called a tap, use it," and "if you pay for water, your (sic) a fuck." Well, sir, I'll have you know that I'm enjoying a bottle of Deer Park myself right now. So THERE!
Favorite Cigarette: As Budweiser claims to be the king of beers, so Marlboro claims to be the king of cigarettes. And you, apparently, agree. Marlboro Lights clenched the coveted Streety for this category beating out such worthies as Parliament Light and Newport. I was sad to see that Parliament Lights did not do as well since they are my preferred brand, but at least not too many of you voted for Camel Lights; the cigarette for assholes. I did receive a significant amount of write-ins for American Spirits, but since they lack tasty chemicals, I have chosen to ignore them. Also, like the previous category, some of you had strong feelings about this category saying such things as, "Smoking is for idiots" and "It doesn't matter what you smoke because you're still gonna die young." Thanks for that.
Favorite British Soccer (football) team: OLE, Ole ole ole ole! Nobody cares about soccer! Half of you - and I'm not kidding - half of you didn't bother casting a vote for this one. However, three of my English subscribers more than made up for it with their enthusiasm. "LONDON ARSENAL!" wrote one, "Anyone who says any different is a tosser!" Well, I wouldn't want to be a tosser, would I? But I guess some of you do because Manchester United won this category. I suspect that many of the votes for this team came from guys who saw "Eurotrip" or girls who have masturbated thinking about David Beckham.
Fattest Celebrity To Still Be Called "Sexy': There are lots of fat people in America, me being one of them. The difference between me and the ones on my list is that nobody calls me sexy. But 41% of you thought that Kirsty Alley (or however you spell her name) still deserves this title. We all remember Kirtsy for her work on "Cheers" as a sassy barmaid and, more recently, as an obese turd who always seems to look pissed off in pictures. I was hoping that Meatloaf was going to win because I have been compared to him at various times, but let's face facts, Meatloaf was never sexy to begin with. Damn.
Medical Affliction That Will Most Likely Affect You In 20 Years: Well, my suspicions have been confirmed; you are all a bunch of drunks. By an overwhelming majority advanced pickling of the liver won this category with 63% of the votes. Menopause came in second place assuring me that there are some girls reading this (P.S. I'm single). One young woman cast her vote for all four of the categories making her officially the grossest person ever; a balding, gassy, menopausal alcoholic. Call me.
Singer Most Likely To Get Knocked Up: A lot of you misunderstood this category and pointed out to me that Clay Akien is actually a boy and can't get pregnant. You're wrong - Aiken has a vagina and fully functioning ovaries. Isn't it obvious? But that is besides the point because 41% of you thought that Britney Spears was most likely to get knocked up. Granted, she is married now so her getting knocked up would be hard. She would have to get pregnant by someone other than her husband, making her a total slut. Actually, it wouldn't be that hard at all, would it?
Greatest Man In America: To me this category was clear cut as Waterford Crystal. I cast my vote for me because I really do feel I am the greatest man in this country. Sadly, however, only 11% of you agreed with me. Instead, I have to hand the title over to Mr. Jon Stewart who won with 39% of the vote. I've met Jon Stewart before and I can tell you this: he is shorter than you think. He's also very nice and completely deserves the Streety more than Bush, Kerry and me. Well, not more than me, but"
How Much Did You Drink This Weekend?: Again, you have all proven yourselves to be worthless drunks"my kind of people. Even though "47" and "I like Vodka" were popular responses, "Dude"I don't even know" won. A couple of you said that you don't drink and don't like going to parties which made me sad. One young man had an explanation for his dryness. "I don't drink because I'm always too stoned." Well, at least he's polluting his body in some way. Good for him.
What's That Smell?: It's clearly not your feet and you didn't fart. It may have been your body de-toxifying itself, but chances are it's the Indian kid in 305. You know him, he has an unpronounceable last name and is always cooking something weird in the dorm kitchen. He's a nice guy but all his clothes reek of curry and you can smell him from a mile away. While this category may seem a little stereotypical, it's completely true. The Indian way of life lends itself to smells that people of the western world find unusual and offensive. Hey, I bet the stench of Old Spice body wash and buffalo wing sauce coming off you makes him sick. So we're even.
Best Real World Cast: What happens when eight strangers live in a house and have their lives taped? Some wacky shit! And the wackiest shit you saw went down in Las Vegas where Trichelle and company snagged 38% of the vote. How we miss them; fucking in the hot tub, throwing up in the elevator, crying on the phone"Oh, the memories! I personally liked the San Francisco cast because they were actual "real" people: they were ugly, had boring jobs and fought about "who the BLEEP ate my BLEEPing peanut butter!" like real roommates do. Oh well, I guess America would rather see people shower together than fight for AIDS awareness. I can't blame "em.
Most Unattractive Piece Of Clothing: Our first tie! Some of you thought that Ugg Boots were nasty and some of you thought that tighty whities were bad too, but an equal number of you thought that stirrup pants and granny panties were the worst. I've even thought of an explanation for the tie. Stirrup pants were very popular with fat little girls in your fifth grade class. They wore the same ones everyday and they had stains all over them. Now, as you grew and started to experiment with girls, you had your first run in with granny panties. You took your girlfriend's pants off expecting to find some sexy negligee but it wasn't to be. Instead, she wore big, white, disgusting panties that hung loosely off her body and you cried. GROSS! Because both of these images are burned into your brain, you voted equally. Or you're a girl who wears stirrup pants and granny panties and really hates your wardrobe.
How Much Do You Hate Brit's New Husband: There is no doubt that Kevin Federline is a total douchebag. He rides around like he's that man because he's nailing Spears when the truth is he's just a skinny white boy who Bow Wow could easily take in a brawl. But, the question is, how much do you hate him? Well, 72% hate him "almost as much as you hate Britney." This proves that, although we hate annoying men, we hate powerful women even more. Britney's like Hillary Clinton, except that Bill rules and Kevin is just a talentless ass.
My Birthday Is: December 2, 1982! Many of you guessed correctly and I congratulate you. Interestingly, Brit and I share a birthday so I know she'll be giving me shit about the last category when she sends my birthday card this year. Oh well. Another interesting fact is that my birthday is in three days. Just a subtle reminder to go out and get me a present while there's still time. I want and iPod and new tires for my car. I'll see all of you at my party - It's at Chucky Cheese and bring change for the video games because my Dad said he's not paying for everyone this year.
Male B-Lister Who Most Often Appears On CH: When you wake up in the morning and your alarm lets out a warning and you think you'll never make it on time. That's not even a sentence! But Mr. Belding could care less because he seems to spend most of his time hanging out at college bars as any of you have checked the pictures section of collegehumor out. He always looks pretty drunk and happy to be surrounded by nimble coeds who all want to get a pic with him. His fellow "Bell-er" Screech (a.k.a. Dustin Diamond, came in second place. Screech at least has a reason to be hanging out at colleges (he's a comedian now). As for Haskins (Belding), it's just sad. Go be on Celebrity Squares or something, loser.
Worst Name To Call Your Mom: One time when I was little, I called my Mom "Susan" because that is what my Dad called her. She got really sad and almost dried. I've since learned to be more polite and call her "Woman." However, the name that would surely bring your Mom to tears and make your comic book collection go straight into the trash is"Whore. Even if your Mom is a whore she only turns tricks to put food on the table, you selfish little shit.
Worst Name To Be Called By Your Mom: "Thurman, clean your room""nope. "Wendel, take out the trash""nope. "Todd, walk the dog NOW""no. "Hey Mistake, your dad and I didn't want you""there's a winner! We all like to think that we are loved and appreciated by our parents but the sad truth is a lot of us weren't meant to be at all. It could have been Dad's powerful spermatozoid swim team or Mom drinking too much and forgetting to take her pill, but some of us our bad mistakes. Not me. According to my Mom I was a "happy mistake." Anyway you slice it, being called a "mistake" by your Mom sucks"even worse than being called Thurman.
Song That Needs To Go Away: A few years ago, "The Thing Song" drove us all crazy. This year the honor of having the most annoying song that needs to die goes to my fellow Bronxite, Fat Joe. His ghetto anthem "Lean Back" has been pounded into our heads over and over again and it's about time for it to go away. Yes, Fat Joe, we know your niggas don't dance. We know they just pull up dey pants. And we know they do the rockaway. Now, shut up.
Crappiest Store: It's amazing that your pick for crappiest store, Wal-Mart, is also the most popular store in America. It just proves, once again, how dumb our country really is (hey, remember who won the election?). I must disagree with judging Wal-Mart as the crappiest store. Yes, it's merchandise is shitty and the particle board dresser I bought there fell apart in 20 minutes, but the Ocean State Job Lot is by far the worst store in the world. It's row after row of dirty, mystery brand products that only welfare moms and white trash would buy. That's why I own two rugs and a window fan from there. Hey, I don't get paid a lot, lay off.
Best Cut of Steak: When I was a little boy, my Dad took me to the grocery store. We went to the meat display case when he stopped and picked me up. "Street, I'm going to teach you some good life lessons, okay?" "Okay, Daddy," "Now," he said pointing to a cut of meat," That's called a porterhouse. It's a good steak but it needs flavoring. Now, this is a London broil which is just bad steak. But look here, Street. This is called a prime rib. It's the best steak you can get. See how the fat is strung throughout the meat? That's called "marbling.'" My Dad would be proud of all of you because prime rib easily defeated all others as best cut of steak. Only a few of you chose filet mignon and London broil. An even smaller few chose to admit that "I'm a big pussy and don't eat meat it's cruel and I'm a crybaby." Daddy, my readers have done you proud.
*Warning: My dad may want to call you up to discuss the merits of the prime rib. You have been warned.
Best Name For A Cool Guy In High School: Who's the captain of the football team? Who comes to school just for lunch? Who parks in the teacher spots? Who dates Kelly Kristy, the hottest cheerleader? Who stuffs nerd in their lockers? Who is the coolest guy in high school? Why, Hunter Gavin of course. Hunter is way cooler than Dylan Winters AND Parker Hamilton, according to you guys. I used to tell people in high school that I knew the coolest guy from another town named Hunter Gavin. He wasn't real but I got a few people to go, "Yeah, I know that guy"he's mad cool." If Hunter Gavin was real, however, one thing would be for sure; he'd be the coolest guy in high school.
Funniest Movie Starring John Candy: We all miss John Candy. He was a big, fat, loveable buffoon with a heart of gold (kind of like me). He also smoked five packs a day, drank like a fish and ate bacon like it was going out of style. So, he's dead. But unlike most fat dead people, John Candy left behind a fine collection of comedic movies to remember him by. The question is, which one is the best? Nobody liked Canadian Bacon (interesting fact: written and directed by Michael Moore) and The Great Outdoors didn't fare much better. The true contest came down to "Trains, Planes and Automobile" and "Uncle Buck." Both of these classics are great but only can take home the final Streety of the night. That honor goes to "Uncle Buck." What kid didn't want someone to make you pancakes with a snow shovel or beat up your older sister's loser boyfriend? John Candy, you are missed.
That's it guys. If you made it this far down, thank you. Look for the Streety Awards IV coming in February. Till then, congratulations to our winners and get home safe.
Biggest Lips: Our first category was one of the closest. Hillary Duff showed some respectable numbers snagging 19% of the vote. Jenna Jameson did even better with 21% of the vote for her - ahem - nether parts. But the race came down to two very worthy adversaries. In the right corner we have Angelina Jolie: film star, goodwill ambassador and well-known full blown lunatic. In the left corner we have that guy from Forest Gump: African American, b-lister and the reason my Dad really likes buying shrimp. It was close but someone had to win and I am proud to announce that Ms. Jolie has taken the category. Congratulations Angelina, maybe to celebrate you can go make out with your brother!
Preferred Brand of Bottled Water: Well, I won't say that you guys have no class, but Fiji brand water didn't even make a dent in this category. It seems that none of you really want to pay $11 for a bottle of water. The clear (hahaha, get it?) winner was Poland Springs with 62% of the votes. Ol' Sammy's Bottled Cure-All Tonic also did well with 18% of the vote"not bad for an imaginary product. This category also produced some very angry write-ins, most noteably, "Seriously, who the fuck drinks water they pay for? It's called a tap, use it," and "if you pay for water, your (sic) a fuck." Well, sir, I'll have you know that I'm enjoying a bottle of Deer Park myself right now. So THERE!
Favorite Cigarette: As Budweiser claims to be the king of beers, so Marlboro claims to be the king of cigarettes. And you, apparently, agree. Marlboro Lights clenched the coveted Streety for this category beating out such worthies as Parliament Light and Newport. I was sad to see that Parliament Lights did not do as well since they are my preferred brand, but at least not too many of you voted for Camel Lights; the cigarette for assholes. I did receive a significant amount of write-ins for American Spirits, but since they lack tasty chemicals, I have chosen to ignore them. Also, like the previous category, some of you had strong feelings about this category saying such things as, "Smoking is for idiots" and "It doesn't matter what you smoke because you're still gonna die young." Thanks for that.
Favorite British Soccer (football) team: OLE, Ole ole ole ole! Nobody cares about soccer! Half of you - and I'm not kidding - half of you didn't bother casting a vote for this one. However, three of my English subscribers more than made up for it with their enthusiasm. "LONDON ARSENAL!" wrote one, "Anyone who says any different is a tosser!" Well, I wouldn't want to be a tosser, would I? But I guess some of you do because Manchester United won this category. I suspect that many of the votes for this team came from guys who saw "Eurotrip" or girls who have masturbated thinking about David Beckham.
Fattest Celebrity To Still Be Called "Sexy': There are lots of fat people in America, me being one of them. The difference between me and the ones on my list is that nobody calls me sexy. But 41% of you thought that Kirsty Alley (or however you spell her name) still deserves this title. We all remember Kirtsy for her work on "Cheers" as a sassy barmaid and, more recently, as an obese turd who always seems to look pissed off in pictures. I was hoping that Meatloaf was going to win because I have been compared to him at various times, but let's face facts, Meatloaf was never sexy to begin with. Damn.
Medical Affliction That Will Most Likely Affect You In 20 Years: Well, my suspicions have been confirmed; you are all a bunch of drunks. By an overwhelming majority advanced pickling of the liver won this category with 63% of the votes. Menopause came in second place assuring me that there are some girls reading this (P.S. I'm single). One young woman cast her vote for all four of the categories making her officially the grossest person ever; a balding, gassy, menopausal alcoholic. Call me.
Singer Most Likely To Get Knocked Up: A lot of you misunderstood this category and pointed out to me that Clay Akien is actually a boy and can't get pregnant. You're wrong - Aiken has a vagina and fully functioning ovaries. Isn't it obvious? But that is besides the point because 41% of you thought that Britney Spears was most likely to get knocked up. Granted, she is married now so her getting knocked up would be hard. She would have to get pregnant by someone other than her husband, making her a total slut. Actually, it wouldn't be that hard at all, would it?
Greatest Man In America: To me this category was clear cut as Waterford Crystal. I cast my vote for me because I really do feel I am the greatest man in this country. Sadly, however, only 11% of you agreed with me. Instead, I have to hand the title over to Mr. Jon Stewart who won with 39% of the vote. I've met Jon Stewart before and I can tell you this: he is shorter than you think. He's also very nice and completely deserves the Streety more than Bush, Kerry and me. Well, not more than me, but"
How Much Did You Drink This Weekend?: Again, you have all proven yourselves to be worthless drunks"my kind of people. Even though "47" and "I like Vodka" were popular responses, "Dude"I don't even know" won. A couple of you said that you don't drink and don't like going to parties which made me sad. One young man had an explanation for his dryness. "I don't drink because I'm always too stoned." Well, at least he's polluting his body in some way. Good for him.
What's That Smell?: It's clearly not your feet and you didn't fart. It may have been your body de-toxifying itself, but chances are it's the Indian kid in 305. You know him, he has an unpronounceable last name and is always cooking something weird in the dorm kitchen. He's a nice guy but all his clothes reek of curry and you can smell him from a mile away. While this category may seem a little stereotypical, it's completely true. The Indian way of life lends itself to smells that people of the western world find unusual and offensive. Hey, I bet the stench of Old Spice body wash and buffalo wing sauce coming off you makes him sick. So we're even.
Best Real World Cast: What happens when eight strangers live in a house and have their lives taped? Some wacky shit! And the wackiest shit you saw went down in Las Vegas where Trichelle and company snagged 38% of the vote. How we miss them; fucking in the hot tub, throwing up in the elevator, crying on the phone"Oh, the memories! I personally liked the San Francisco cast because they were actual "real" people: they were ugly, had boring jobs and fought about "who the BLEEP ate my BLEEPing peanut butter!" like real roommates do. Oh well, I guess America would rather see people shower together than fight for AIDS awareness. I can't blame "em.
Most Unattractive Piece Of Clothing: Our first tie! Some of you thought that Ugg Boots were nasty and some of you thought that tighty whities were bad too, but an equal number of you thought that stirrup pants and granny panties were the worst. I've even thought of an explanation for the tie. Stirrup pants were very popular with fat little girls in your fifth grade class. They wore the same ones everyday and they had stains all over them. Now, as you grew and started to experiment with girls, you had your first run in with granny panties. You took your girlfriend's pants off expecting to find some sexy negligee but it wasn't to be. Instead, she wore big, white, disgusting panties that hung loosely off her body and you cried. GROSS! Because both of these images are burned into your brain, you voted equally. Or you're a girl who wears stirrup pants and granny panties and really hates your wardrobe.
How Much Do You Hate Brit's New Husband: There is no doubt that Kevin Federline is a total douchebag. He rides around like he's that man because he's nailing Spears when the truth is he's just a skinny white boy who Bow Wow could easily take in a brawl. But, the question is, how much do you hate him? Well, 72% hate him "almost as much as you hate Britney." This proves that, although we hate annoying men, we hate powerful women even more. Britney's like Hillary Clinton, except that Bill rules and Kevin is just a talentless ass.
My Birthday Is: December 2, 1982! Many of you guessed correctly and I congratulate you. Interestingly, Brit and I share a birthday so I know she'll be giving me shit about the last category when she sends my birthday card this year. Oh well. Another interesting fact is that my birthday is in three days. Just a subtle reminder to go out and get me a present while there's still time. I want and iPod and new tires for my car. I'll see all of you at my party - It's at Chucky Cheese and bring change for the video games because my Dad said he's not paying for everyone this year.
Male B-Lister Who Most Often Appears On CH: When you wake up in the morning and your alarm lets out a warning and you think you'll never make it on time. That's not even a sentence! But Mr. Belding could care less because he seems to spend most of his time hanging out at college bars as any of you have checked the pictures section of collegehumor out. He always looks pretty drunk and happy to be surrounded by nimble coeds who all want to get a pic with him. His fellow "Bell-er" Screech (a.k.a. Dustin Diamond, came in second place. Screech at least has a reason to be hanging out at colleges (he's a comedian now). As for Haskins (Belding), it's just sad. Go be on Celebrity Squares or something, loser.
Worst Name To Call Your Mom: One time when I was little, I called my Mom "Susan" because that is what my Dad called her. She got really sad and almost dried. I've since learned to be more polite and call her "Woman." However, the name that would surely bring your Mom to tears and make your comic book collection go straight into the trash is"Whore. Even if your Mom is a whore she only turns tricks to put food on the table, you selfish little shit.
Worst Name To Be Called By Your Mom: "Thurman, clean your room""nope. "Wendel, take out the trash""nope. "Todd, walk the dog NOW""no. "Hey Mistake, your dad and I didn't want you""there's a winner! We all like to think that we are loved and appreciated by our parents but the sad truth is a lot of us weren't meant to be at all. It could have been Dad's powerful spermatozoid swim team or Mom drinking too much and forgetting to take her pill, but some of us our bad mistakes. Not me. According to my Mom I was a "happy mistake." Anyway you slice it, being called a "mistake" by your Mom sucks"even worse than being called Thurman.
Song That Needs To Go Away: A few years ago, "The Thing Song" drove us all crazy. This year the honor of having the most annoying song that needs to die goes to my fellow Bronxite, Fat Joe. His ghetto anthem "Lean Back" has been pounded into our heads over and over again and it's about time for it to go away. Yes, Fat Joe, we know your niggas don't dance. We know they just pull up dey pants. And we know they do the rockaway. Now, shut up.
Crappiest Store: It's amazing that your pick for crappiest store, Wal-Mart, is also the most popular store in America. It just proves, once again, how dumb our country really is (hey, remember who won the election?). I must disagree with judging Wal-Mart as the crappiest store. Yes, it's merchandise is shitty and the particle board dresser I bought there fell apart in 20 minutes, but the Ocean State Job Lot is by far the worst store in the world. It's row after row of dirty, mystery brand products that only welfare moms and white trash would buy. That's why I own two rugs and a window fan from there. Hey, I don't get paid a lot, lay off.
Best Cut of Steak: When I was a little boy, my Dad took me to the grocery store. We went to the meat display case when he stopped and picked me up. "Street, I'm going to teach you some good life lessons, okay?" "Okay, Daddy," "Now," he said pointing to a cut of meat," That's called a porterhouse. It's a good steak but it needs flavoring. Now, this is a London broil which is just bad steak. But look here, Street. This is called a prime rib. It's the best steak you can get. See how the fat is strung throughout the meat? That's called "marbling.'" My Dad would be proud of all of you because prime rib easily defeated all others as best cut of steak. Only a few of you chose filet mignon and London broil. An even smaller few chose to admit that "I'm a big pussy and don't eat meat it's cruel and I'm a crybaby." Daddy, my readers have done you proud.
*Warning: My dad may want to call you up to discuss the merits of the prime rib. You have been warned.
Best Name For A Cool Guy In High School: Who's the captain of the football team? Who comes to school just for lunch? Who parks in the teacher spots? Who dates Kelly Kristy, the hottest cheerleader? Who stuffs nerd in their lockers? Who is the coolest guy in high school? Why, Hunter Gavin of course. Hunter is way cooler than Dylan Winters AND Parker Hamilton, according to you guys. I used to tell people in high school that I knew the coolest guy from another town named Hunter Gavin. He wasn't real but I got a few people to go, "Yeah, I know that guy"he's mad cool." If Hunter Gavin was real, however, one thing would be for sure; he'd be the coolest guy in high school.
Funniest Movie Starring John Candy: We all miss John Candy. He was a big, fat, loveable buffoon with a heart of gold (kind of like me). He also smoked five packs a day, drank like a fish and ate bacon like it was going out of style. So, he's dead. But unlike most fat dead people, John Candy left behind a fine collection of comedic movies to remember him by. The question is, which one is the best? Nobody liked Canadian Bacon (interesting fact: written and directed by Michael Moore) and The Great Outdoors didn't fare much better. The true contest came down to "Trains, Planes and Automobile" and "Uncle Buck." Both of these classics are great but only can take home the final Streety of the night. That honor goes to "Uncle Buck." What kid didn't want someone to make you pancakes with a snow shovel or beat up your older sister's loser boyfriend? John Candy, you are missed.
That's it guys. If you made it this far down, thank you. Look for the Streety Awards IV coming in February. Till then, congratulations to our winners and get home safe.
FacebookFuck Thanksgiving...It's Christmas Time Baby!
You know what I'm thankful for this year? That stupid Thanksgiving is almost over. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy watching Uncle Chris get sauced and scream at the TV when the Giants lose. I love seeing Uncle Kevin put his fingers in the gravy boat to get that last, little drop. I can't get enough of Grandpa Frank's Hill-arious stories about World War II and how those Nazis were "dropping like flies." And I can't seem to tear myself away from Granny Helen's description of her colonoscopy and how the doctor's hands were "cold as a witch's titty." But still, fuck Thanksgiving.
Why, you ask? Because I couldn't give half a shit about pilgrims and I couldn't care less about Indians. The best thing the pilgrims did was kill the Indians and the best thing the Indians did was figure out how to sell tax-free cigarettes. I like turkey but thanks to my "DeepFry De-Luxe" I can have it whenever I want"In minutes"with NO MESS! Thanksgiving is a time to go to your old high school's football game and brag about how your college is wayyyyyy better than everyone else's. It's a time to wonder why everyone in the family but you is really enjoying watching the big fucking balloons go by Macy's. It's a time to see your old friends from high school and play "who got fat." But mostly, Thanksgiving is just boring - no presents, no carols and no F-ing EGG NOG!?. But luckily, Thanksgiving is a gentle reminder that Christmas is right around the corner.
When Thanksgiving passes by - like a nasty bout of the clap - only a few precious weeks separate you from the best holiday around. You eagerly dream of what gifts you can buy for all your family and friends. But, as the days go by and your checkbook gets thinner, you cut that list down to the essential persons. Your roommate? Nah. Your sister? Nah. Mom? Nah. They'll get over it. But there is one person you can never forget at Christmas"yourself.
Christmas is about getting that special feeling deep down inside that says, "Heyyyy"buy me THAT!" It's a time to finally clarify for your parents that, no, you don't like green turtlenecks but an iPod would be pretty great. It's your time to let the world know that they should satisfy all your material needs and, for God's sake, no cheapo Savings Bonds, Grandma! People like to say that Christmas has lost touch with its roots; that it no longer is a day of celebration to honor our Lord Jesus. But, Jesus got a bunch of gifts on that day too - granted, nobody better get me and frankincense - so what's wrong with me getting some?
I hope that all of you survive the Thanksgiving mess and make it to Christmas okay. I know I'll be there with a red sweater, a ton of gift certificates and a real ugly homemade scarf"thanks Aunt Cheryl, would it kill you to spend some of your welfare check on presents, you cheap bitch?
Why, you ask? Because I couldn't give half a shit about pilgrims and I couldn't care less about Indians. The best thing the pilgrims did was kill the Indians and the best thing the Indians did was figure out how to sell tax-free cigarettes. I like turkey but thanks to my "DeepFry De-Luxe" I can have it whenever I want"In minutes"with NO MESS! Thanksgiving is a time to go to your old high school's football game and brag about how your college is wayyyyyy better than everyone else's. It's a time to wonder why everyone in the family but you is really enjoying watching the big fucking balloons go by Macy's. It's a time to see your old friends from high school and play "who got fat." But mostly, Thanksgiving is just boring - no presents, no carols and no F-ing EGG NOG!?. But luckily, Thanksgiving is a gentle reminder that Christmas is right around the corner.
When Thanksgiving passes by - like a nasty bout of the clap - only a few precious weeks separate you from the best holiday around. You eagerly dream of what gifts you can buy for all your family and friends. But, as the days go by and your checkbook gets thinner, you cut that list down to the essential persons. Your roommate? Nah. Your sister? Nah. Mom? Nah. They'll get over it. But there is one person you can never forget at Christmas"yourself.
Christmas is about getting that special feeling deep down inside that says, "Heyyyy"buy me THAT!" It's a time to finally clarify for your parents that, no, you don't like green turtlenecks but an iPod would be pretty great. It's your time to let the world know that they should satisfy all your material needs and, for God's sake, no cheapo Savings Bonds, Grandma! People like to say that Christmas has lost touch with its roots; that it no longer is a day of celebration to honor our Lord Jesus. But, Jesus got a bunch of gifts on that day too - granted, nobody better get me and frankincense - so what's wrong with me getting some?
I hope that all of you survive the Thanksgiving mess and make it to Christmas okay. I know I'll be there with a red sweater, a ton of gift certificates and a real ugly homemade scarf"thanks Aunt Cheryl, would it kill you to spend some of your welfare check on presents, you cheap bitch?
Die, Old Navy, Die
It's that time of year again. The time of year when shopping becomes an all-encompassing activity and television advertising reaches new lows. And no other company has sunk so low as Old Navy. Their Christmas advertising is so terrible it makes me hate television; something I cherish above family, friends and even sex.
Every year I wait with anxiety to see what batch of fresh brewed shit Old Navy has in store for me. It's like waiting for a cold - you know something awful is coming but you can't do anything to stop it. Your nose starts running, your throat gets sore and you know that any day now you'll be feeling terrible. This is what Old Navy has reduced me to; a shivering, terrified young man waiting for his impending doom. I would much rather be waiting for an enema or a gun shot wound than the cheery, sing-song crap Old Navy serves up every year.
And, each year it gets worse. They keep the same cast of white-toothed, sweater wearing assholes, but somehow they find a way to make these clowns more intolerable. First they cast that old lady with the big glasses. She had a dog, wore all black and has since, thankfully, died. She was bad but Old Navy wasn't satisfied yet. "Well, our ads are doing well. I see we've successfully pissed off most of the north east but we really haven't broken through to the conservative mid-westerners. I think we should up the songs and get the teeth whiter. And maybe get a little gap-toothed kid to hold something?" The country may be more fractured and divided than it has ever been about politics but we can all agree that Old Navy Christmas advertising is just about the worst thing in the world.
Other companies make bad Christmas commercials. Sears will show a happy minority family opening power tools and cheap jewelry. JC Penny will taunt you with visions of your 80 year-old self in their clothing. Wal-Mart will produce commercials that make it appear as if there are items on their shelves which aren't Jeff Gordon Signature and have no affiliation with NASCAR. Bloomingdales will try to convince you that people still shop there. But Old Navy"they are on a plane by themselves. This year is the worst so far.
Chances are that if you have turned on your television in the last two weeks you have caught one of these gems. This year's hell features, yes, a perfectly diverse group of young people with shimmering teeth and brightly colored sweaters. Some have zippers and some do not; a fact they gladly point out to you in song. This group of do-goody assbags sneaks up on shoppers perplexed by what to purchase for their loved ones. "Hmmm" the shopper thinks, "if only someone could tell me where I could find everything I need for the holidays." Luckily, the Old Navy Douchebag Choir is right behind them to help out. They sing a little song about Old Navy's wonderful variety of ugly clothing with some of the more annoying members taking solos about their particular favorites. "We have half zip pullovers in red and green!" one enthusiastically intones right before I put a .50 caliber bullet through her eye (in my mind). The musical ads always end with a little tyke, positioned in front of the choir, spouting off some random fact like "It's going to be a great new year" or "my testicles haven't dropped." Then, for now, the hell is over. You can let go your white knuckle grip on the remote and breathe easily for the next eight minutes.
The men and women behind this campaign must be stopped. Liberals, take all your anger at the election and Bush and channel it this way. Conservatives, take all that American pride and punish these bastards for making us look like fools. Nader voters, go smoke some weed and call us if you're going out. This can go on no longer.
Maybe if enough of you band together and help me, these terrible commercials will no longer afflict us? Maybe next year we will all gather round the TV and not be assaulted by the Old Navy Ass-Squad and their trifling songs? Maybe we can kidnap the Old Navy advertising executives and roast them alive as we dance naked amongst there burning carcasses? Maybe next year I might actually enjoy watching television? Maybe the world will be free from their terror and next year will be one of love and happiness?
Or, I could just kill myself.
Every year I wait with anxiety to see what batch of fresh brewed shit Old Navy has in store for me. It's like waiting for a cold - you know something awful is coming but you can't do anything to stop it. Your nose starts running, your throat gets sore and you know that any day now you'll be feeling terrible. This is what Old Navy has reduced me to; a shivering, terrified young man waiting for his impending doom. I would much rather be waiting for an enema or a gun shot wound than the cheery, sing-song crap Old Navy serves up every year.
And, each year it gets worse. They keep the same cast of white-toothed, sweater wearing assholes, but somehow they find a way to make these clowns more intolerable. First they cast that old lady with the big glasses. She had a dog, wore all black and has since, thankfully, died. She was bad but Old Navy wasn't satisfied yet. "Well, our ads are doing well. I see we've successfully pissed off most of the north east but we really haven't broken through to the conservative mid-westerners. I think we should up the songs and get the teeth whiter. And maybe get a little gap-toothed kid to hold something?" The country may be more fractured and divided than it has ever been about politics but we can all agree that Old Navy Christmas advertising is just about the worst thing in the world.
Other companies make bad Christmas commercials. Sears will show a happy minority family opening power tools and cheap jewelry. JC Penny will taunt you with visions of your 80 year-old self in their clothing. Wal-Mart will produce commercials that make it appear as if there are items on their shelves which aren't Jeff Gordon Signature and have no affiliation with NASCAR. Bloomingdales will try to convince you that people still shop there. But Old Navy"they are on a plane by themselves. This year is the worst so far.
Chances are that if you have turned on your television in the last two weeks you have caught one of these gems. This year's hell features, yes, a perfectly diverse group of young people with shimmering teeth and brightly colored sweaters. Some have zippers and some do not; a fact they gladly point out to you in song. This group of do-goody assbags sneaks up on shoppers perplexed by what to purchase for their loved ones. "Hmmm" the shopper thinks, "if only someone could tell me where I could find everything I need for the holidays." Luckily, the Old Navy Douchebag Choir is right behind them to help out. They sing a little song about Old Navy's wonderful variety of ugly clothing with some of the more annoying members taking solos about their particular favorites. "We have half zip pullovers in red and green!" one enthusiastically intones right before I put a .50 caliber bullet through her eye (in my mind). The musical ads always end with a little tyke, positioned in front of the choir, spouting off some random fact like "It's going to be a great new year" or "my testicles haven't dropped." Then, for now, the hell is over. You can let go your white knuckle grip on the remote and breathe easily for the next eight minutes.
The men and women behind this campaign must be stopped. Liberals, take all your anger at the election and Bush and channel it this way. Conservatives, take all that American pride and punish these bastards for making us look like fools. Nader voters, go smoke some weed and call us if you're going out. This can go on no longer.
Maybe if enough of you band together and help me, these terrible commercials will no longer afflict us? Maybe next year we will all gather round the TV and not be assaulted by the Old Navy Ass-Squad and their trifling songs? Maybe we can kidnap the Old Navy advertising executives and roast them alive as we dance naked amongst there burning carcasses? Maybe next year I might actually enjoy watching television? Maybe the world will be free from their terror and next year will be one of love and happiness?
Or, I could just kill myself.
F Thanksgiving" It's Christmas Time Baby!
You know what I'm thankful for this year? That stupid Thanksgiving is almost over. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy watching Uncle Chris get sauced and scream at the TV when the Jets lose. I love seeing Uncle Kevin put his fingers in the gravy boat to get that last, little drop. I can't get enough of Grandpa Frank's Hill-arious stories about World War II and how those Nazis were "dropping like flies." And I can't seem to tear myself away from Granny Helen's description of her colonoscopy and how the doctor's hands were "cold as a witch's titty." But still, fuck Thanksgiving.
Why, you ask? Because I couldn't give half a shit about pilgrims and I could care less about Indians. The best thing the pilgrims did was kill the Indians and the best thing the Indians did was figure out how to sell tax-free cigarettes. I like turkey but thanks to my "DeepFry De-Luxe" I can have it whenever I want"In minutes"with NO MESS! Thanksgiving is a time to go to your old high school's football game and brag about how your college is wayyyyyy better than everyone else's. It's a time to wonder why everyone in the family but you is really enjoying watching the big fucking balloons go by Macy's. It's a time to see your old friends from high school and play "who got fat." But mostly, Thanksgiving is just boring - no presents, no carols and no F-ing EGG NOG!?. But luckily, Thanksgiving is a gentle reminder that Christmas is right around the corner.
When Thanksgiving passes by - like a nasty bout of the clap - only a few precious weeks separate you from the best holiday around. You eagerly dream of what gifts you can buy for all your family and friends. But, as the days go by and your checkbook gets thinner, you cut that list down to the essential persons. Your roommate? Nah. Your sister? Nah. Mom? Nah. They'll get over it. But there is one person you can never forget at Christmas"yourself.
Christmas is about getting that special feeling deep down inside that says, "Heyyyy" buy me THAT!" It's a time to finally clarify for your parents that, no, you don't like green turtlenecks but an iPod would be pretty great. It's your time to let the world know that they should satisfy all your material needs and, for God's sake, no cheapo Savings Bonds, Grandma! People like to say that Christmas has lost touch with its roots; that it no longer is a day of celebration to honor our Lord Jesus. But, Jesus got a bunch of gifts on that day too - granted, nobody better get me and frankincense - so what's wrong with me getting some?
I hope that all of you survive the Thanksgiving mess and make it to Christmas okay. I know I'll be there with a red sweater, a ton of gift certificates and a real ugly homemade scarf"thanks Aunt Cheryl, would it kill you to spend some of your welfare check on presents, you cheap bitch?
This festive update has been brought to you by this deal, where you can get a Game Boy Advance if you do a bunch of offers. Now, hotlinks.
Why, you ask? Because I couldn't give half a shit about pilgrims and I could care less about Indians. The best thing the pilgrims did was kill the Indians and the best thing the Indians did was figure out how to sell tax-free cigarettes. I like turkey but thanks to my "DeepFry De-Luxe" I can have it whenever I want"In minutes"with NO MESS! Thanksgiving is a time to go to your old high school's football game and brag about how your college is wayyyyyy better than everyone else's. It's a time to wonder why everyone in the family but you is really enjoying watching the big fucking balloons go by Macy's. It's a time to see your old friends from high school and play "who got fat." But mostly, Thanksgiving is just boring - no presents, no carols and no F-ing EGG NOG!?. But luckily, Thanksgiving is a gentle reminder that Christmas is right around the corner.
When Thanksgiving passes by - like a nasty bout of the clap - only a few precious weeks separate you from the best holiday around. You eagerly dream of what gifts you can buy for all your family and friends. But, as the days go by and your checkbook gets thinner, you cut that list down to the essential persons. Your roommate? Nah. Your sister? Nah. Mom? Nah. They'll get over it. But there is one person you can never forget at Christmas"yourself. Christmas is about getting that special feeling deep down inside that says, "Heyyyy" buy me THAT!" It's a time to finally clarify for your parents that, no, you don't like green turtlenecks but an iPod would be pretty great. It's your time to let the world know that they should satisfy all your material needs and, for God's sake, no cheapo Savings Bonds, Grandma! People like to say that Christmas has lost touch with its roots; that it no longer is a day of celebration to honor our Lord Jesus. But, Jesus got a bunch of gifts on that day too - granted, nobody better get me and frankincense - so what's wrong with me getting some?
I hope that all of you survive the Thanksgiving mess and make it to Christmas okay. I know I'll be there with a red sweater, a ton of gift certificates and a real ugly homemade scarf"thanks Aunt Cheryl, would it kill you to spend some of your welfare check on presents, you cheap bitch?
This festive update has been brought to you by this deal, where you can get a Game Boy Advance if you do a bunch of offers. Now, hotlinks.
People You Hate XXIV
Man, it sure has been a long time since we had a hate list. I apologize, I was ill for a bit and then I just didn't want to do anything because I got addicted to my cough syrup. But, after some time at a rehab center, I'm all better and back with fresh hate for all of you. Without further bullshitting from me, this is 24th edition of the Famous Hate List.
*Remember, you can be in the Famous Hate List, just email your submission to suxatlife@hotmail.com and let the world know who pisses you off! Include your name and last initial plus your school.
MINE:
Suffering Sam: Sometimes, we all feel like shit. You could be sick or you could have a lot of work to. Shit, your Dad could have just died. But no matter how shitty you have it, Suffering Sam has it worse, or so he says. When you feel like bitching a little bit and letting the world know what a shitty hand its dealt you Sam will always speak up. "Oh man, you think getting your wisdom teeth out is bad? I had to get a ROOT CANAL last year!" Hey asshole, it's not a fucking misery contest. I feel like shit so I'm going to talk about it. And I don't need your smiling ass piping up and talking about how you broke your leg three years ago, how your grandma died before you even knew her or how your midterm was WAY harder than everyone else's. Shut the fuck up and let me feel sorry for myself, you selfish bastard. Maybe, if there is a God in heaven, he'll give you the plague or ebola or something that would warrant the amount of pain you think you're in. Shit, maybe he'll even kill you"the ultimate thing to bitch about, you dickhead. Please, please, die"I Hate You!
Fat Fanny: Listen, I know I don't have the sexiest body around. Therefore, I don't act like I do. I don't wear muscle tees or walk around in tight little underwear. I have some compassion for my fellow man and don't subject him to that kind of thing. But not Fat Fanny. No, she is convinced that even though she's 345 Lbs, she's God's gift to men. She'll go out in skimpy little shorts, a tight little belly shirt and some seriously over-worked high heels. The worst part is she'll walk around like she's got the hottest body in the joint. She'll be spitting out attitude and shaking her sizeable ass all over the place. She'll act like she's too good to talk to you and say ridiculous things like, "I hope you know I'm not going home with you." Really? Thank fucking God! I don't think I could look at myself in the mirror if you did. I don't want to go home with you, you fat bitch. I was just talking to you so I could ask you to move over and let me get to the bar. I don't have a problem with fat girls at all. I'm fat and fat people gotta stick together. It's the fat bitches, like Fanny, that ruin it for the rest of us. Fanny, you fat disgusting freak, tuck your rolls up in the baby-tee, put some cream on the rash between your thighs and get the fuck out of my sight"I Hate You!
Marty the Movie Thief: Hmmm, I could have sworn I used to have a "Road Trip" DVD. I wonder where I put that? Oh wait, I remember where it is! Marty the fucking Movie Thief has it, along with 40 of my other DVDs. This dude lives in every dorm at every college. He comes off all innocent when he presents himself at your door. "Oh, Hey dude, do you mind if I borrow "Old School" from you?" You want to be a good person so you say "no problem' and off he goes. Will you ever see your DVD again? Not likely. The only way to get a movie back from this asshole is to hunt him down in his room and interrogate him. "I don't think I ever borrowed that from you, man." He'll say. He might even go so far as to write his name on it so it appears as if he brought it from home. At that point, the only way to get your stuff back is to kill him. And he would deserve. He might also lend your movies out to other people so when you show up to get your copy of "National Lampoon's Vacation" back, he'll say, "Oh, sorry dude, I lent it to my girlfriend's roommate." Marty, I hope someone "borrows" your anal virginity in prison someday because, with your thieving ways, that's where you'll certainly end up. Give me my fucking copy of "Starsky and Hutch" back and don't even pretend it's not mine"I Hate You!
YOURS:
Reader Katie W. really hates: I really hate the close parker people. You all know them. The people who pull their car up so far to the stopper and park in between two big trucks that you get so excited when you see what you think is an empty spot that's actually close to your dorm. The least you could do is stick the butt end of your car out so I don't get overtly excited and step on the gas so no one else steals this seemingly amazing spot.
Close parker people, you are the killers of dreams... you make me late for class... and I blame you for the tickets that I have gotten because I refuse to park a mile away from my dorm"I Hate You!
Reader Rachel from Syracuse U. really hates: Sorority whore Sarah- I want to burn god damn hooded sweatshirt with her letters sewn on that you wear every day. All of your sisters have the same exact black sweatshirts with zebra striped letters and pink backgrounds. It's not that they don't make other styles or colors, it just that you are all backbone-less sheep that do whatever everyone else does. Under her sweatshirt is the infamous 'everyone loves a delta sigma sister' t-shirt. Let me tell you this bitch, not everyone loves a delta sigma girl. And their not your real sisters you moron. Don't fucking bore me with comments like "oh you're from Trumbull? I have a sister that lives there", first of all, why the fuck do I care? Unless she has free weed, or answers to the test, you're simply bothering me. Secondly don't tell me your "sister" lives there because she's not your real mother fucking sister. But I forget that the comment was not for my benefit, it was only so you could name drop your house and let me know that you think your better then me because your in a sorority, just in case the obnoxious sweatshirt advertisement wasn't enough of an announcement. Well listen you jappy, coke-head, Paris Hilton wannabe: Fendi, Coach, Gucci and Prada do not make up for your stupidy, big nose and Fran Dresher voice. You make a bad name for all girls everywhere especially the cute stoner chicks like me"I Hate You!
Reader Andy G. really hates: that jackass who, on the turnpike, for some reason decides to pull into the EZ pass lane, when low and behold, DOES NOT HAVE EZPASS!!! You dumb motherfucker, I guess those 20 foot tall blinking signs should have been more clearly pointed out to you. What's that??? Oh you are already up to the toll booth and realize that you don't have the pass?? Oh now you want me and the other three cars behind you to back up so you won't get a $30 fine??? Good luck asshole, cause there is no way in hell that I am moving for your stupid blind ass. If you can't realize that you are in the wrong lane, maybe you shouldn't be driving a car putting other motorist's lives at risk. You should be kicked in the shins over and over again for being born a complete and utter retard....I hate you and if you pull this shit again in front of me, just accept the fact that you will be getting a fine in the mail in about 60 days, unless you plan on backing over my car with me in it.....I hate you jerkoff, die slow
(Author's Note: I may or may not have done this many, many times.)
Reader Jay W. from Michigan really hates: Co-worker Carl, Carl can't shut the fuck up for one fucking minute can you. You don't get it do you, no one wants to hear about you or your totally fucked up off the wall stories. Your grandma invented the pop can, you cat can use the toilet, you were a striper in Chi town, Where the fuck did you come up with this shit. Oh, yeah the next time that I am on the phone and you say can I interrupt for just a sec, I am going to put my customer on hold and use the cord to choke the fucking life out of you. You are always saying how you keep your cubicle so clean, well if you spent 5 min out of the day in the damn thing instead of sucking the bosses ass or bugging the other co-worker, that oh yeah HATE your over weight, twitchy eyed, stinky breathed ass that would change and it would look just like all of our desks. BTW Carl the next time you think it is fun so pop every joint in your whole body at the same time and make that strange animal grunt afterward, don't every one around you is about to kill you for doing just that at least once every 5 or 10 minutes. So Carl from that depths of my hart and I think that I speak for all of the other co-workers (and the boss too, he can't stand you) WE HATE YOU, would you please leave, die, or just disappear or something.
Reader Mary really hates: it when I go home and random people like the Dressing Room attendant at Abercrombie or random High Schoolers see me with my school's hoodie on and say, "Hey, OMG, I like have so many best friends forever at Virignia Tech... do you know (Insert list of names here)?" No you dumb bitch, I don't know your friends. This just in... there are 27,000 people at my school... I'm sorry I do not know your "BFF" or your girlfriend, or your boyfriend, or your mom's cousin's baby daddy mother's sister's dog walker, or your Abercrombie collar popping bastard friends. LEAVE ME ALONE! I HATE YOU!!!!!
Mary also hates: guys that go home and visit their High School like it's their job pretending to be "Mr.College 2004." Ugh, you pedophile... stop hitting on 14 year old girls and try to get girls your own age... oh wait you can't because every girl your age things you're a douche bag. You and your damn "COLLEGE!" Shirt... real classy fucker, only a million other people have it too. And when you're sitting in the stands at a High School Football game and my sister comes home and tells me that you were doing Virginia Tech cheers in the stands BY YOURSELF and even SHE thought you looked like a fuckass... that says something. That screams FUCKING LOSER who needs to get over himself... I'm sorry you feel as though you have to compensate for your short-comings, but that doesn't change the fact that I HATE YOU!
Reader Ali S., who lives across the street from me and looks in my windows, really hates: Jenny "cell phone" at the bar. OBVIOUSLY you are too cool to be at the bar that you are at so you have to take all the calls that you receive from your bootycall/ best friend/ whatever to find a place that is for the love of god better than where you are right now.. I am sorry but don't be at the local spot if you feel like you are too good for it... it is just too good for you... so its not just me that hates you"I am sure I can list a few that would love to hate you.
Reader Mike P. from Holy Cross really hates: guys on the atkins diet who spend 45 minutes on the elliptical. There's these assholes at my school, holy cross, who wear sweatshirts and sweatpants to the gym and use the fucking girls' machines in an attempt to burn the most calories. Then I see these low self esteem pricks in the dining hall eating hamburgers without the fucking bun. This is America and any guy who eats hamburger without the bun should be shot in the face or forced to move to France"I Hate You!
(Author's Note: Okay, confession time. I'm on the Atkins and it rules. I've eaten a lot of steak and lost 27 Lbs. I, however, do not any exercise and the last time I went on an elliptical, I fell off and had to run out of the gym in shame.)
Reader Kelly W. really hates: The "NorCal-SoCal" Debators: A lot of the readers on this site seem to be from the East Coast, so they may not be familiar with this retarded type. These are the fucking people who have to sit around and debate what fucking part of California is cooler. Hey dumbasses, we all live in the same mother fucking state! You guys must be the fucktards who are still stuck on that whole proposal to split California into two states. That was like 10-15 years ago, get over it! I mean, honestly how old could you have been at the time. I'm from NorCal but I went to college in SoCal and still live here. Take it from someone who has lived a substantial amount of time in both halves, they're too fucking different to compare. Furthermore, these fucking douches have never even been to the opposing end's half. How are you going to fucking compare something without experiencing it? They both have their fucking positives and negatives. NorCal has a lot of open land and some places smell like cow shit, but where the fuck do you think most of the state's food fucking comes from?? It didn't magically appear in the store's produce section. And there are fuckin huge cities in NorCal too. SoCal has tons of beaches and Hollywood. Sure there's Beverly Hills, Bel Air, and UCLA. But there's also fucking Inglewood, Compton, and USC. Fucking own up to the fact that each side has its charm. But I forgot that these are also the same mother fuckers who probably have sticks up their asses about other shit as well. Oh no, I couldn't possibly open up my mind to the fact that there could be something better than what I already have. Fucking grow some balls and fucking explore other places loser. And while you're at it, why don't you try other states or *gasp* other countries. I swear I'm going to have to kick some ass if I hear another person say "NorCal (or SoCal) is waaaaay better." Here, I got you a gift to congratulate you on visiting NorCal/SoCal... it's a bumper sticker and it says "everyone in NorCal and SoCal and I HATE YOU."
(Author's Note: Sometimes in New York City, we argue about which burrow is the best, but then we realize we live in New York City and that that's pretty cool as it is.)
Kelly also hates: The "I've-Got-You-Pegged" Guy: This mother fucker feels the need to tell me exactly who I am. And it's not even like it's his opinion; this dumbass thinks it's a fucking fact. Oh, you think that I pretend to be bad ass but I'm really just a sweet, innocent girl? Listen loser, I don't pretend to be bad ass, I know I'm not so why would I try? Yeah, that's a fucking rhetorical question. Maybe you're just comedically challenged and don't get that sarcasm isn't an attempt to be cool, but a sense of humor, a personality trait. Fuck man, stop reading into every fucking sarcastic comment I make like it's a fucking clue into my inner psyche. Hello?? If you stopped fucking talking for a split second you'd fucking know that I was a psych major, bitch. Yeah that means that
I know every little fucking mind game you're trying to play. Don't think that shit will work on me. Another favorite of mine is the "You put up walls and I have to try so hard to break them down." I don't give a fuck if I build the mother fucking Berlin Wall to drown out your fucking voice. The fucking wall will come down when I'm ready for the bitch to fall. Like, I don't know, maybe more than 5 minutes after I've fucking met you! We've hung out twice and suddenly you think you're fucking privy to every thought and feeling I have?? Wow, what you said was so profound... I think I should totally hop into the sack with you! Oh wait, no loser I wouldn't, because any guy that's going to fucking try to prey on my insecurities or make me feel bad for not "opening" up to him in order to persuade me to have sex should be fucking castrated. Do you honestly think that if you can make my self-esteem low enough that I'll sleep with you to make myself feel better?? You must be a bigger crackhead than I thought. But hey, while you're at this whole emotional beating, why don't you start physically abusing me too. You twisted, sadistic, misogynistic fuckhead. Don't forget to read into this and tell me what you think of me when I say I HATE YOU!
Reader Brandon Y. really hates: liberal Larry- you're the one who cant get over the election and are calling it "fixed" in Florida, which if you look at the facts, could be the second most ridiculous statement of the year(first being John Kerry's "yes" reply to "Are you for or against Gay marriage?". One Liberal Larry who is Keith Olberman, who decided it was worth "looking into" on his television show, on the always balanced MSNBC. Oh ye liberal Larries, get over the election, sure JK may not be in the white house, but maybe if you had loaded a few more busses or filed a couple more lawsuits, maybe that wouldn't be the case. Always critical, yet never respectful of others view, today, Liberal Larry, I look down upon YOU. My hate extends far beyond just the man, I go to the source with this hate. NY Times, CNN, MSNBC, Dan Rather, Air America, Hollywood (especially chubby checkers Michael Moore) and most every other major news paper, and television station. As much as you spin things, we Americans are not as dumb as me may look. We got instincts, and this time around those instincts said G. Dubya. Get over it. I hate you Liberal Larry and I hate you more Liberal Media.
Reader Alana N. really hates: I really hate Judging John. He's that guy that comes out to a bar or to a party with you and spends the entire time looking like he needs a cup of prune juice. Hey douche-bag, maybe you'd have a few more friends and get invited to more stuff if you'd stop explaining to people why you think drinking is so wrong and how disgusting you think it is when people are drunk. Excuse me, why are you here? What's the point of coming to anything when all you're going to do is tell people you think less of them for hooking up with someone, or puking on the floor? Oh, right you have no social life of your own, so you latch onto your roommates and spend your time trying to make yourself seem somehow cooler than everyone else by standing in a corner looking like an asshole. Good job moron. When I want to be around a whiny-ass little bitch with a superiority complex, I'll call you. Until then, stay the fuck away from my party. I hate you!
And now, The Hater of the Week award goes to a man known simply as Josh. This is by far the longest Hate List entry I've ever had. Also, be forewarned, Josh is English and some of his spellings and words may be foreign to you.
Josh really Hates: I hate people who make bands specifically to get big and famous. I've been in several bands now and they all sucked, because everyone else in the band cared more about their "image" and name than the actual music. In fact, mostly I just hate my old band. "OOh, the battle of the bands is coming up, we might not win with our nirvana, blink 182 and rhcp covers, but gee, a record exec. might see us and we can get a deal." Listen you withdrawn enema, I MADE THIS BAND! I brought you lazy twats all together, can we get down and play now?? But no, instead you retards spend the time arguing over the band's name this week and bitching about your brothers, who at 14 are already more talented than you, and not so full of pretentious bollocks. Listen, stop bitching about the treble on your guitar, shut the fuck up, write a song and get a gig at a bar or pub with me, I don't want to be a rockstar, I just wanna make music. I hate teenage rockstars, I hate drummers who don't turn up to practices coz their girlfriends don't like the way I talk, I hate stinky hippies who can't play bass, I hate people who don't see that not letting me play marraccas through "smells like teen spirit" is lame, and I'll kick your ass. I hate smells like teen spirit. Anyway, What the fuck are you even doing here bitch!??! You're not in the band, you're not my friend, you're the dumb blonde sitting in the corner who thinks wearing black converse and grown men crying is the last word in cool. Fuck you, I'm making my own band, with my girlfriend and all your brothers. We're called Barbie and the rockstars. Come see us, we're gonna be huge.
I also hate people who think that having ADHD is cool, and so pretend to have it. "OOh look at me, I'm so hyperactive, I can run around and jump off things and piss people off, but its ok, cause I HAVE ADHD!!! Goddamn it if you pesky kids don't settle down I'm gonna shove those vitamin tablets you're pretending are ritalin up your ass and teach you to behave the way my dad taught me, fetch you a good solid backhand. Hey look over there stevie-hyper-D! "wha?" *smack* yeah, slapping people is cool.
I hate my cat. In the last two weeks its puked in my room, and I found four shits. I don't even know when she did them, she hides them behind my sofa and flicks them up the wall so they're really hard to clean. She also knocked over a lamp while I was round my girlfriend's and it burned a hole through my leather jacket and my blanket and my sofa. The next day she just knocked it onto the floor and it smashed. Still, she has feline AIDS, so she'll die soon.
I hate my other cat, although I pity her quite a lot. She just sits in her bed all day, doesn't move, but as soon as you come near her she whores herself out in a crude attempt to get me to feed her more. Listen Jabba, I'm not feeding you again, you're twice the size of a normal cat, and anyway I lost your food.
I REALLY hate the girl I work with. Why do I get paid £4.10 an hour while I do all the work in the shop, while you sit your fat lazy ass behind the counter and get £5.60?? I got out a fucking ladder today to dust the top shelves, while you unwrapped yet another chicken and mushroom pie. I hope you choke you sycophantic ginger bitch.
I hate my bosses. Why can't I have a chair to sit on in the shop? its ok for the fat bitch, she rests on the radiator all day (its england, its freezing) but me, I'm 6'4" with bad knees, it hurts to stand up for 8 hours all day. Anyway, isn't that illegal? Oh yeah, that's right, you're employing me illegally so you don't have to pay tax. Get me a stool you cunts, or I'm gonna throw myself down the stairs and sue you. Maybe then you'll pay me minimum wage, or at least as much as tubby girl.
I hate my ex-girlfriend. You dumped me on my sixteenth birthday you callous hag!! How could you?! Not meaning to sound like I'm still hung up on you, but you also still have two of my dvds and my favourite (the misspelling stays b/c he's English) jacket of all time. hehe, yeah, but then I made your appendix explode. Ahhh that was funny. ( NB. I didn't make it explode per se, it was on its way anyway, but she dumped me and went home early, and didn't recognize the signs till it was too late.) hehe, yeah you nearly died. Whore. OH yeah! And you promised that I was the one you would lose your virginity to, and so did I, but then you dumped me, went off and fucked a scouser!?!(what the fuck is that?) Give me some dignity, please!? I hope he has herpes. I just realized you are directly attributable to the fact that none of my old friends talk to me, cause I got drunk and screwed my ex girlfr./ best friend at the time who still "loved" me. I hate you!
I hate my old school. Tell me this, do you think you could survive in a place called "Sir Joseph Williamson's Mathematical School for boys". I'm surprised I didn't kill any of those middle class pricks. I hate the students, I hate the teachers, I hate the poncey (What?) fucking tradition and history, and I hate the way that you cover over the one cool thing about Sir Joseph Williamson - the man had miles and miles of underground tunnels built under Liverpool for him to get into other ppls houses and shag their missus!?! Serial adulterers are cool. When I grow up I want to be a serial adulterer.
I hate modern music. It all sucks, there are so few original and exciting bands around these days. Take your fucking emo/screamo/weeno, nu-metal, shitty r'nb, gangsta rap and cookie cutter pop and, I don't know, leave me alone. You make me cry.
I hate my ex-best male friend who suddenly decided to be gay. I have nothing against gay ppl, but why must you all be camp!? Camp men are unattractive and annoying and girly. If you're gay, be a proper gay man, like that bloke from the village ppl in leather with a tache, or steel-workers or the army. Those are real men, real loving. Don't come out as gay then suddenly completely change the way you talk and dress and act, its just your sexuality not your personality you impressionable dipshit.
Thats enough vitriolic hate for now. Time for some love.
I love - streeter, (YES!) my girlfriend, barbie and the rockstars, old kung fu movies - wiggas, winkies and chiggers, all the music everyone else is too ashamed to say, old suits and trilby hats, the colour green, bacon, my collarbones, blunt skins and when I get paid.
Holy God, Josh is an angry young Englishman. I hope they aren't all like him or they'll take us over again. Well, that's all for now, join us next time when we have fresh hate from all over the world (seriously, it does come from all over the world). And remember, if you want to have your rant on the Famous Hate List, email me at suxatlife@hotmail.com with you first name, last initial and your school. Till next time, have a hateful day.
*Remember, you can be in the Famous Hate List, just email your submission to suxatlife@hotmail.com and let the world know who pisses you off! Include your name and last initial plus your school.
MINE:
Suffering Sam: Sometimes, we all feel like shit. You could be sick or you could have a lot of work to. Shit, your Dad could have just died. But no matter how shitty you have it, Suffering Sam has it worse, or so he says. When you feel like bitching a little bit and letting the world know what a shitty hand its dealt you Sam will always speak up. "Oh man, you think getting your wisdom teeth out is bad? I had to get a ROOT CANAL last year!" Hey asshole, it's not a fucking misery contest. I feel like shit so I'm going to talk about it. And I don't need your smiling ass piping up and talking about how you broke your leg three years ago, how your grandma died before you even knew her or how your midterm was WAY harder than everyone else's. Shut the fuck up and let me feel sorry for myself, you selfish bastard. Maybe, if there is a God in heaven, he'll give you the plague or ebola or something that would warrant the amount of pain you think you're in. Shit, maybe he'll even kill you"the ultimate thing to bitch about, you dickhead. Please, please, die"I Hate You!
Fat Fanny: Listen, I know I don't have the sexiest body around. Therefore, I don't act like I do. I don't wear muscle tees or walk around in tight little underwear. I have some compassion for my fellow man and don't subject him to that kind of thing. But not Fat Fanny. No, she is convinced that even though she's 345 Lbs, she's God's gift to men. She'll go out in skimpy little shorts, a tight little belly shirt and some seriously over-worked high heels. The worst part is she'll walk around like she's got the hottest body in the joint. She'll be spitting out attitude and shaking her sizeable ass all over the place. She'll act like she's too good to talk to you and say ridiculous things like, "I hope you know I'm not going home with you." Really? Thank fucking God! I don't think I could look at myself in the mirror if you did. I don't want to go home with you, you fat bitch. I was just talking to you so I could ask you to move over and let me get to the bar. I don't have a problem with fat girls at all. I'm fat and fat people gotta stick together. It's the fat bitches, like Fanny, that ruin it for the rest of us. Fanny, you fat disgusting freak, tuck your rolls up in the baby-tee, put some cream on the rash between your thighs and get the fuck out of my sight"I Hate You!
Marty the Movie Thief: Hmmm, I could have sworn I used to have a "Road Trip" DVD. I wonder where I put that? Oh wait, I remember where it is! Marty the fucking Movie Thief has it, along with 40 of my other DVDs. This dude lives in every dorm at every college. He comes off all innocent when he presents himself at your door. "Oh, Hey dude, do you mind if I borrow "Old School" from you?" You want to be a good person so you say "no problem' and off he goes. Will you ever see your DVD again? Not likely. The only way to get a movie back from this asshole is to hunt him down in his room and interrogate him. "I don't think I ever borrowed that from you, man." He'll say. He might even go so far as to write his name on it so it appears as if he brought it from home. At that point, the only way to get your stuff back is to kill him. And he would deserve. He might also lend your movies out to other people so when you show up to get your copy of "National Lampoon's Vacation" back, he'll say, "Oh, sorry dude, I lent it to my girlfriend's roommate." Marty, I hope someone "borrows" your anal virginity in prison someday because, with your thieving ways, that's where you'll certainly end up. Give me my fucking copy of "Starsky and Hutch" back and don't even pretend it's not mine"I Hate You!
YOURS:
Reader Katie W. really hates: I really hate the close parker people. You all know them. The people who pull their car up so far to the stopper and park in between two big trucks that you get so excited when you see what you think is an empty spot that's actually close to your dorm. The least you could do is stick the butt end of your car out so I don't get overtly excited and step on the gas so no one else steals this seemingly amazing spot.
Close parker people, you are the killers of dreams... you make me late for class... and I blame you for the tickets that I have gotten because I refuse to park a mile away from my dorm"I Hate You!
Reader Rachel from Syracuse U. really hates: Sorority whore Sarah- I want to burn god damn hooded sweatshirt with her letters sewn on that you wear every day. All of your sisters have the same exact black sweatshirts with zebra striped letters and pink backgrounds. It's not that they don't make other styles or colors, it just that you are all backbone-less sheep that do whatever everyone else does. Under her sweatshirt is the infamous 'everyone loves a delta sigma sister' t-shirt. Let me tell you this bitch, not everyone loves a delta sigma girl. And their not your real sisters you moron. Don't fucking bore me with comments like "oh you're from Trumbull? I have a sister that lives there", first of all, why the fuck do I care? Unless she has free weed, or answers to the test, you're simply bothering me. Secondly don't tell me your "sister" lives there because she's not your real mother fucking sister. But I forget that the comment was not for my benefit, it was only so you could name drop your house and let me know that you think your better then me because your in a sorority, just in case the obnoxious sweatshirt advertisement wasn't enough of an announcement. Well listen you jappy, coke-head, Paris Hilton wannabe: Fendi, Coach, Gucci and Prada do not make up for your stupidy, big nose and Fran Dresher voice. You make a bad name for all girls everywhere especially the cute stoner chicks like me"I Hate You!
Reader Andy G. really hates: that jackass who, on the turnpike, for some reason decides to pull into the EZ pass lane, when low and behold, DOES NOT HAVE EZPASS!!! You dumb motherfucker, I guess those 20 foot tall blinking signs should have been more clearly pointed out to you. What's that??? Oh you are already up to the toll booth and realize that you don't have the pass?? Oh now you want me and the other three cars behind you to back up so you won't get a $30 fine??? Good luck asshole, cause there is no way in hell that I am moving for your stupid blind ass. If you can't realize that you are in the wrong lane, maybe you shouldn't be driving a car putting other motorist's lives at risk. You should be kicked in the shins over and over again for being born a complete and utter retard....I hate you and if you pull this shit again in front of me, just accept the fact that you will be getting a fine in the mail in about 60 days, unless you plan on backing over my car with me in it.....I hate you jerkoff, die slow
(Author's Note: I may or may not have done this many, many times.)
Reader Jay W. from Michigan really hates: Co-worker Carl, Carl can't shut the fuck up for one fucking minute can you. You don't get it do you, no one wants to hear about you or your totally fucked up off the wall stories. Your grandma invented the pop can, you cat can use the toilet, you were a striper in Chi town, Where the fuck did you come up with this shit. Oh, yeah the next time that I am on the phone and you say can I interrupt for just a sec, I am going to put my customer on hold and use the cord to choke the fucking life out of you. You are always saying how you keep your cubicle so clean, well if you spent 5 min out of the day in the damn thing instead of sucking the bosses ass or bugging the other co-worker, that oh yeah HATE your over weight, twitchy eyed, stinky breathed ass that would change and it would look just like all of our desks. BTW Carl the next time you think it is fun so pop every joint in your whole body at the same time and make that strange animal grunt afterward, don't every one around you is about to kill you for doing just that at least once every 5 or 10 minutes. So Carl from that depths of my hart and I think that I speak for all of the other co-workers (and the boss too, he can't stand you) WE HATE YOU, would you please leave, die, or just disappear or something.
Reader Mary really hates: it when I go home and random people like the Dressing Room attendant at Abercrombie or random High Schoolers see me with my school's hoodie on and say, "Hey, OMG, I like have so many best friends forever at Virignia Tech... do you know (Insert list of names here)?" No you dumb bitch, I don't know your friends. This just in... there are 27,000 people at my school... I'm sorry I do not know your "BFF" or your girlfriend, or your boyfriend, or your mom's cousin's baby daddy mother's sister's dog walker, or your Abercrombie collar popping bastard friends. LEAVE ME ALONE! I HATE YOU!!!!!
Mary also hates: guys that go home and visit their High School like it's their job pretending to be "Mr.College 2004." Ugh, you pedophile... stop hitting on 14 year old girls and try to get girls your own age... oh wait you can't because every girl your age things you're a douche bag. You and your damn "COLLEGE!" Shirt... real classy fucker, only a million other people have it too. And when you're sitting in the stands at a High School Football game and my sister comes home and tells me that you were doing Virginia Tech cheers in the stands BY YOURSELF and even SHE thought you looked like a fuckass... that says something. That screams FUCKING LOSER who needs to get over himself... I'm sorry you feel as though you have to compensate for your short-comings, but that doesn't change the fact that I HATE YOU!
Reader Ali S., who lives across the street from me and looks in my windows, really hates: Jenny "cell phone" at the bar. OBVIOUSLY you are too cool to be at the bar that you are at so you have to take all the calls that you receive from your bootycall/ best friend/ whatever to find a place that is for the love of god better than where you are right now.. I am sorry but don't be at the local spot if you feel like you are too good for it... it is just too good for you... so its not just me that hates you"I am sure I can list a few that would love to hate you.
Reader Mike P. from Holy Cross really hates: guys on the atkins diet who spend 45 minutes on the elliptical. There's these assholes at my school, holy cross, who wear sweatshirts and sweatpants to the gym and use the fucking girls' machines in an attempt to burn the most calories. Then I see these low self esteem pricks in the dining hall eating hamburgers without the fucking bun. This is America and any guy who eats hamburger without the bun should be shot in the face or forced to move to France"I Hate You!
(Author's Note: Okay, confession time. I'm on the Atkins and it rules. I've eaten a lot of steak and lost 27 Lbs. I, however, do not any exercise and the last time I went on an elliptical, I fell off and had to run out of the gym in shame.)
Reader Kelly W. really hates: The "NorCal-SoCal" Debators: A lot of the readers on this site seem to be from the East Coast, so they may not be familiar with this retarded type. These are the fucking people who have to sit around and debate what fucking part of California is cooler. Hey dumbasses, we all live in the same mother fucking state! You guys must be the fucktards who are still stuck on that whole proposal to split California into two states. That was like 10-15 years ago, get over it! I mean, honestly how old could you have been at the time. I'm from NorCal but I went to college in SoCal and still live here. Take it from someone who has lived a substantial amount of time in both halves, they're too fucking different to compare. Furthermore, these fucking douches have never even been to the opposing end's half. How are you going to fucking compare something without experiencing it? They both have their fucking positives and negatives. NorCal has a lot of open land and some places smell like cow shit, but where the fuck do you think most of the state's food fucking comes from?? It didn't magically appear in the store's produce section. And there are fuckin huge cities in NorCal too. SoCal has tons of beaches and Hollywood. Sure there's Beverly Hills, Bel Air, and UCLA. But there's also fucking Inglewood, Compton, and USC. Fucking own up to the fact that each side has its charm. But I forgot that these are also the same mother fuckers who probably have sticks up their asses about other shit as well. Oh no, I couldn't possibly open up my mind to the fact that there could be something better than what I already have. Fucking grow some balls and fucking explore other places loser. And while you're at it, why don't you try other states or *gasp* other countries. I swear I'm going to have to kick some ass if I hear another person say "NorCal (or SoCal) is waaaaay better." Here, I got you a gift to congratulate you on visiting NorCal/SoCal... it's a bumper sticker and it says "everyone in NorCal and SoCal and I HATE YOU."
(Author's Note: Sometimes in New York City, we argue about which burrow is the best, but then we realize we live in New York City and that that's pretty cool as it is.)
Kelly also hates: The "I've-Got-You-Pegged" Guy: This mother fucker feels the need to tell me exactly who I am. And it's not even like it's his opinion; this dumbass thinks it's a fucking fact. Oh, you think that I pretend to be bad ass but I'm really just a sweet, innocent girl? Listen loser, I don't pretend to be bad ass, I know I'm not so why would I try? Yeah, that's a fucking rhetorical question. Maybe you're just comedically challenged and don't get that sarcasm isn't an attempt to be cool, but a sense of humor, a personality trait. Fuck man, stop reading into every fucking sarcastic comment I make like it's a fucking clue into my inner psyche. Hello?? If you stopped fucking talking for a split second you'd fucking know that I was a psych major, bitch. Yeah that means that
I know every little fucking mind game you're trying to play. Don't think that shit will work on me. Another favorite of mine is the "You put up walls and I have to try so hard to break them down." I don't give a fuck if I build the mother fucking Berlin Wall to drown out your fucking voice. The fucking wall will come down when I'm ready for the bitch to fall. Like, I don't know, maybe more than 5 minutes after I've fucking met you! We've hung out twice and suddenly you think you're fucking privy to every thought and feeling I have?? Wow, what you said was so profound... I think I should totally hop into the sack with you! Oh wait, no loser I wouldn't, because any guy that's going to fucking try to prey on my insecurities or make me feel bad for not "opening" up to him in order to persuade me to have sex should be fucking castrated. Do you honestly think that if you can make my self-esteem low enough that I'll sleep with you to make myself feel better?? You must be a bigger crackhead than I thought. But hey, while you're at this whole emotional beating, why don't you start physically abusing me too. You twisted, sadistic, misogynistic fuckhead. Don't forget to read into this and tell me what you think of me when I say I HATE YOU!
Reader Brandon Y. really hates: liberal Larry- you're the one who cant get over the election and are calling it "fixed" in Florida, which if you look at the facts, could be the second most ridiculous statement of the year(first being John Kerry's "yes" reply to "Are you for or against Gay marriage?". One Liberal Larry who is Keith Olberman, who decided it was worth "looking into" on his television show, on the always balanced MSNBC. Oh ye liberal Larries, get over the election, sure JK may not be in the white house, but maybe if you had loaded a few more busses or filed a couple more lawsuits, maybe that wouldn't be the case. Always critical, yet never respectful of others view, today, Liberal Larry, I look down upon YOU. My hate extends far beyond just the man, I go to the source with this hate. NY Times, CNN, MSNBC, Dan Rather, Air America, Hollywood (especially chubby checkers Michael Moore) and most every other major news paper, and television station. As much as you spin things, we Americans are not as dumb as me may look. We got instincts, and this time around those instincts said G. Dubya. Get over it. I hate you Liberal Larry and I hate you more Liberal Media.
Reader Alana N. really hates: I really hate Judging John. He's that guy that comes out to a bar or to a party with you and spends the entire time looking like he needs a cup of prune juice. Hey douche-bag, maybe you'd have a few more friends and get invited to more stuff if you'd stop explaining to people why you think drinking is so wrong and how disgusting you think it is when people are drunk. Excuse me, why are you here? What's the point of coming to anything when all you're going to do is tell people you think less of them for hooking up with someone, or puking on the floor? Oh, right you have no social life of your own, so you latch onto your roommates and spend your time trying to make yourself seem somehow cooler than everyone else by standing in a corner looking like an asshole. Good job moron. When I want to be around a whiny-ass little bitch with a superiority complex, I'll call you. Until then, stay the fuck away from my party. I hate you!
And now, The Hater of the Week award goes to a man known simply as Josh. This is by far the longest Hate List entry I've ever had. Also, be forewarned, Josh is English and some of his spellings and words may be foreign to you.
Josh really Hates: I hate people who make bands specifically to get big and famous. I've been in several bands now and they all sucked, because everyone else in the band cared more about their "image" and name than the actual music. In fact, mostly I just hate my old band. "OOh, the battle of the bands is coming up, we might not win with our nirvana, blink 182 and rhcp covers, but gee, a record exec. might see us and we can get a deal." Listen you withdrawn enema, I MADE THIS BAND! I brought you lazy twats all together, can we get down and play now?? But no, instead you retards spend the time arguing over the band's name this week and bitching about your brothers, who at 14 are already more talented than you, and not so full of pretentious bollocks. Listen, stop bitching about the treble on your guitar, shut the fuck up, write a song and get a gig at a bar or pub with me, I don't want to be a rockstar, I just wanna make music. I hate teenage rockstars, I hate drummers who don't turn up to practices coz their girlfriends don't like the way I talk, I hate stinky hippies who can't play bass, I hate people who don't see that not letting me play marraccas through "smells like teen spirit" is lame, and I'll kick your ass. I hate smells like teen spirit. Anyway, What the fuck are you even doing here bitch!??! You're not in the band, you're not my friend, you're the dumb blonde sitting in the corner who thinks wearing black converse and grown men crying is the last word in cool. Fuck you, I'm making my own band, with my girlfriend and all your brothers. We're called Barbie and the rockstars. Come see us, we're gonna be huge.
I also hate people who think that having ADHD is cool, and so pretend to have it. "OOh look at me, I'm so hyperactive, I can run around and jump off things and piss people off, but its ok, cause I HAVE ADHD!!! Goddamn it if you pesky kids don't settle down I'm gonna shove those vitamin tablets you're pretending are ritalin up your ass and teach you to behave the way my dad taught me, fetch you a good solid backhand. Hey look over there stevie-hyper-D! "wha?" *smack* yeah, slapping people is cool.
I hate my cat. In the last two weeks its puked in my room, and I found four shits. I don't even know when she did them, she hides them behind my sofa and flicks them up the wall so they're really hard to clean. She also knocked over a lamp while I was round my girlfriend's and it burned a hole through my leather jacket and my blanket and my sofa. The next day she just knocked it onto the floor and it smashed. Still, she has feline AIDS, so she'll die soon.
I hate my other cat, although I pity her quite a lot. She just sits in her bed all day, doesn't move, but as soon as you come near her she whores herself out in a crude attempt to get me to feed her more. Listen Jabba, I'm not feeding you again, you're twice the size of a normal cat, and anyway I lost your food.
I REALLY hate the girl I work with. Why do I get paid £4.10 an hour while I do all the work in the shop, while you sit your fat lazy ass behind the counter and get £5.60?? I got out a fucking ladder today to dust the top shelves, while you unwrapped yet another chicken and mushroom pie. I hope you choke you sycophantic ginger bitch.
I hate my bosses. Why can't I have a chair to sit on in the shop? its ok for the fat bitch, she rests on the radiator all day (its england, its freezing) but me, I'm 6'4" with bad knees, it hurts to stand up for 8 hours all day. Anyway, isn't that illegal? Oh yeah, that's right, you're employing me illegally so you don't have to pay tax. Get me a stool you cunts, or I'm gonna throw myself down the stairs and sue you. Maybe then you'll pay me minimum wage, or at least as much as tubby girl.
I hate my ex-girlfriend. You dumped me on my sixteenth birthday you callous hag!! How could you?! Not meaning to sound like I'm still hung up on you, but you also still have two of my dvds and my favourite (the misspelling stays b/c he's English) jacket of all time. hehe, yeah, but then I made your appendix explode. Ahhh that was funny. ( NB. I didn't make it explode per se, it was on its way anyway, but she dumped me and went home early, and didn't recognize the signs till it was too late.) hehe, yeah you nearly died. Whore. OH yeah! And you promised that I was the one you would lose your virginity to, and so did I, but then you dumped me, went off and fucked a scouser!?!(what the fuck is that?) Give me some dignity, please!? I hope he has herpes. I just realized you are directly attributable to the fact that none of my old friends talk to me, cause I got drunk and screwed my ex girlfr./ best friend at the time who still "loved" me. I hate you!
I hate my old school. Tell me this, do you think you could survive in a place called "Sir Joseph Williamson's Mathematical School for boys". I'm surprised I didn't kill any of those middle class pricks. I hate the students, I hate the teachers, I hate the poncey (What?) fucking tradition and history, and I hate the way that you cover over the one cool thing about Sir Joseph Williamson - the man had miles and miles of underground tunnels built under Liverpool for him to get into other ppls houses and shag their missus!?! Serial adulterers are cool. When I grow up I want to be a serial adulterer.
I hate modern music. It all sucks, there are so few original and exciting bands around these days. Take your fucking emo/screamo/weeno, nu-metal, shitty r'nb, gangsta rap and cookie cutter pop and, I don't know, leave me alone. You make me cry.
I hate my ex-best male friend who suddenly decided to be gay. I have nothing against gay ppl, but why must you all be camp!? Camp men are unattractive and annoying and girly. If you're gay, be a proper gay man, like that bloke from the village ppl in leather with a tache, or steel-workers or the army. Those are real men, real loving. Don't come out as gay then suddenly completely change the way you talk and dress and act, its just your sexuality not your personality you impressionable dipshit.
Thats enough vitriolic hate for now. Time for some love.
I love - streeter, (YES!) my girlfriend, barbie and the rockstars, old kung fu movies - wiggas, winkies and chiggers, all the music everyone else is too ashamed to say, old suits and trilby hats, the colour green, bacon, my collarbones, blunt skins and when I get paid.
Holy God, Josh is an angry young Englishman. I hope they aren't all like him or they'll take us over again. Well, that's all for now, join us next time when we have fresh hate from all over the world (seriously, it does come from all over the world). And remember, if you want to have your rant on the Famous Hate List, email me at suxatlife@hotmail.com with you first name, last initial and your school. Till next time, have a hateful day.
What I'm Thankful For
There's so much to be thankful for in this wonderful world of ours. You could be thankful for this ultra-creative article topic. You could be thankful that you're reading this instead of finishing up that paper "that was totally due last week, dude." You could be thankful the test came back negative. Anyway you look at it, this world is full of things to be thankful for and I am no different. Hell, I'm thankful for a lot of things, like"
*My Roommates. Whenever I let the dishes build up in the sink for weeks, I know they will do them and make some passive aggressive comment to me about it. Whenever I'm sad I know I can go to them and they will show me that their lives are so bad that I don't have anything to be sad about at all. Whenever I get lonely I know that they're no more than 1.2 feet away. And whenever I wonder what a guy doing a goat would look like, they'll gladly put a picture of that up as my computer background to show me.
*My Parents. Whenever I get a big head and a boastful mouth they'll remind me that nothing I do could ever be better than what my sister does. Whenever my bank account runs dry they'll remind me that normal kids "aren't spoiled little brats and work for their gosh-darn money, you little shit." Whenever I call at night they'll remind me that "60 Minutes" is on and Dan Rather is more important than whatever stupid crap I have to say is. And whenever I go home for a holiday they'll remind me that the yard needs to be raked and the house needs to be painted"at the same time.
*My Neighbors. Whenever I wonder if any of them have a handgun, they'll all shoot theirs in the air to remind me. Whenever I wonder if my car has anything of value in it, they'll smash the window and take the valuables out so I'll be more appreciative next time. Whenever I wonder if anyone else notices I'm white, they'll gladly remind me by saying, "Whatchoo lookin at, white boy? Huh? You wanna make somefin outta it?" And whenever I wonder what extremely loud hip hop sounds like at 5 AM, they'll park their car in front of my house and let me listen.
*My Dog. Whenever I wonder if any animal could eat a dead raccoon, he'll show me how. Whenever I think about humping a pillow, he'll show me how. Whenever I dream about licking my privates, he'll let me know that it is as good as I imagine it to be. Whenever I wonder if anything could live in a cage that's half its size, he'll look out from behind the bars and answer my question without saying a word. And whenever I think that nothing in the world could possibly enjoy the smell of my ass, he'll prove me wrong.
*All of you. Whenever my writing teacher tells me I have no talent, some of you somehow think I do. Whenever I look at myself in the mirror and see a fat, pale loser, some of you still say I'm "fat"but cute"kinda." Whenever I want to put off doing schoolwork, I can always write an article and use you to justify it. But mostly, I wanted to thank you for reading. It means a lot to me and I thought this would be a good time to thank you all for it. Happy Thanksgiving. And remember, don't try to have sex after you eat a lot of turkey because you'll fall asleep and embarrass yourself.
*My Roommates. Whenever I let the dishes build up in the sink for weeks, I know they will do them and make some passive aggressive comment to me about it. Whenever I'm sad I know I can go to them and they will show me that their lives are so bad that I don't have anything to be sad about at all. Whenever I get lonely I know that they're no more than 1.2 feet away. And whenever I wonder what a guy doing a goat would look like, they'll gladly put a picture of that up as my computer background to show me.
*My Parents. Whenever I get a big head and a boastful mouth they'll remind me that nothing I do could ever be better than what my sister does. Whenever my bank account runs dry they'll remind me that normal kids "aren't spoiled little brats and work for their gosh-darn money, you little shit." Whenever I call at night they'll remind me that "60 Minutes" is on and Dan Rather is more important than whatever stupid crap I have to say is. And whenever I go home for a holiday they'll remind me that the yard needs to be raked and the house needs to be painted"at the same time.
*My Neighbors. Whenever I wonder if any of them have a handgun, they'll all shoot theirs in the air to remind me. Whenever I wonder if my car has anything of value in it, they'll smash the window and take the valuables out so I'll be more appreciative next time. Whenever I wonder if anyone else notices I'm white, they'll gladly remind me by saying, "Whatchoo lookin at, white boy? Huh? You wanna make somefin outta it?" And whenever I wonder what extremely loud hip hop sounds like at 5 AM, they'll park their car in front of my house and let me listen.
*My Dog. Whenever I wonder if any animal could eat a dead raccoon, he'll show me how. Whenever I think about humping a pillow, he'll show me how. Whenever I dream about licking my privates, he'll let me know that it is as good as I imagine it to be. Whenever I wonder if anything could live in a cage that's half its size, he'll look out from behind the bars and answer my question without saying a word. And whenever I think that nothing in the world could possibly enjoy the smell of my ass, he'll prove me wrong.
*All of you. Whenever my writing teacher tells me I have no talent, some of you somehow think I do. Whenever I look at myself in the mirror and see a fat, pale loser, some of you still say I'm "fat"but cute"kinda." Whenever I want to put off doing schoolwork, I can always write an article and use you to justify it. But mostly, I wanted to thank you for reading. It means a lot to me and I thought this would be a good time to thank you all for it. Happy Thanksgiving. And remember, don't try to have sex after you eat a lot of turkey because you'll fall asleep and embarrass yourself.
Sick And Tired Of Being Sick And Tired
If there is one thing that binds all college kids together, it is illness. No matter where you go to school or what you do with your time, you are going to get sick; there is nothing you can do about it.
As I write this, I have been awake for two days - two days of uninterrupted hell. The only reason I am able to sit down at my computer and pen this fine piece of literature is a heavy dose of Excedrin Migraine mixed with DayQuil, Sudafed Nasal Decongestant and Tylenol Cold and Sinus. To hell with the warning labels! The past three days have been a blur of mucus, headaches, sweating and some very interesting attempts at walking. It would seem that the wall is my best friend since I am constantly leaning on it for support.
I have been accused of being a hypochondriac before because I tend to freak out when I get sick, but this time it is different. I'm not imagining the gallons of phlegm coming up my throat every time I cough. I'm not dreaming up the pounding headache that I get whenever I move. I'm not pretending to be shivering my ass off whenever a square inch of my body is exposed. And I'm certainly not faking the amount of liquid evil flowing from my nose. It's really amazing how fast my body is making this stuff - it's like Henry Ford got hold of my sinus operations ("This mucus is flying out of here every time he blows his nose. We've got to make more and make it faster if we're ever going to stay ahead of him, Damnit!").
The only bright side to this horrible, disgusting illness is that I know I'm not alone. I know there are millions of you out there suffering with me. I know that your bodies said just what mine did, "Well, well, well. You think you can stay up and drink all night with no consequences? You do, do you? We'll see about that! Enjoy the diarrhea!" I know that, like me, many of you thought you could find some help in your school's health center. And, I know that, just like me, all of you have realized another great truth about college life - your school's health center doesn't know what the hell they are talking about.
I've been to the health center an estimated 25 times in my four years at this school and they have never helped me in any way whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, all the people that work there are very nice; they just don't have the power to help you since they aren't doctors. All they can really do is say, "you should take some Tylenol." That is their solution for everything. Broken foot? "Take some Tylenol." Ruptured appendix? "Take some Tylenol." Bullet in the stomach? "Take some Tylenol"no, try Tylenol PM, you should get some sleep." Maybe I'm exaggerating, but"actually, no, I'm not.
Also, it seems that the only illness that university health workers were taught to diagnose is a sinus infection. No matter what the nature of the visit, chances are you have a sinus infection. It doesn't matter if you're coming in for a pap smear, you'll probably walk out of there convinced that you have a sinus infection along with the clap. And what will the treatment be? Why, Tylenol of course!
Maybe I should be a little nicer to the healthcare staff at my school. They try hard and do everything they can, but since when are sick people rational people? When you're sick, you blame everyone but yourself for your illness. "I don't care if I was sharing drinks, standing in the cold with no jacket and licking public phones, dude. If you hadn't coughed on my keyboard last week I never would have gotten sick."
I estimate that I'll feel like this for the next week or so and slowly get better. And, here is the third thing that we all have in common when it comes to being sick - as soon as you're well, you completely forget all the promises you made to yourself when you were sweating and shivering in bed all night. "I'll never kiss strangers, I'll wash my hands 10 times a day, I'll always wear my jacket when I go outside." Once you're back on your feet, it's, "Hey dude, can I have a sip of your drink? Oh, I don't care if you just coughed in it, I'm so thirsty." Oh well, I just hope I get better soon so I can get back to smoking two packs a day and licking public toilets.
As I write this, I have been awake for two days - two days of uninterrupted hell. The only reason I am able to sit down at my computer and pen this fine piece of literature is a heavy dose of Excedrin Migraine mixed with DayQuil, Sudafed Nasal Decongestant and Tylenol Cold and Sinus. To hell with the warning labels! The past three days have been a blur of mucus, headaches, sweating and some very interesting attempts at walking. It would seem that the wall is my best friend since I am constantly leaning on it for support.
I have been accused of being a hypochondriac before because I tend to freak out when I get sick, but this time it is different. I'm not imagining the gallons of phlegm coming up my throat every time I cough. I'm not dreaming up the pounding headache that I get whenever I move. I'm not pretending to be shivering my ass off whenever a square inch of my body is exposed. And I'm certainly not faking the amount of liquid evil flowing from my nose. It's really amazing how fast my body is making this stuff - it's like Henry Ford got hold of my sinus operations ("This mucus is flying out of here every time he blows his nose. We've got to make more and make it faster if we're ever going to stay ahead of him, Damnit!").
The only bright side to this horrible, disgusting illness is that I know I'm not alone. I know there are millions of you out there suffering with me. I know that your bodies said just what mine did, "Well, well, well. You think you can stay up and drink all night with no consequences? You do, do you? We'll see about that! Enjoy the diarrhea!" I know that, like me, many of you thought you could find some help in your school's health center. And, I know that, just like me, all of you have realized another great truth about college life - your school's health center doesn't know what the hell they are talking about.
I've been to the health center an estimated 25 times in my four years at this school and they have never helped me in any way whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, all the people that work there are very nice; they just don't have the power to help you since they aren't doctors. All they can really do is say, "you should take some Tylenol." That is their solution for everything. Broken foot? "Take some Tylenol." Ruptured appendix? "Take some Tylenol." Bullet in the stomach? "Take some Tylenol"no, try Tylenol PM, you should get some sleep." Maybe I'm exaggerating, but"actually, no, I'm not.
Also, it seems that the only illness that university health workers were taught to diagnose is a sinus infection. No matter what the nature of the visit, chances are you have a sinus infection. It doesn't matter if you're coming in for a pap smear, you'll probably walk out of there convinced that you have a sinus infection along with the clap. And what will the treatment be? Why, Tylenol of course!
Maybe I should be a little nicer to the healthcare staff at my school. They try hard and do everything they can, but since when are sick people rational people? When you're sick, you blame everyone but yourself for your illness. "I don't care if I was sharing drinks, standing in the cold with no jacket and licking public phones, dude. If you hadn't coughed on my keyboard last week I never would have gotten sick."
I estimate that I'll feel like this for the next week or so and slowly get better. And, here is the third thing that we all have in common when it comes to being sick - as soon as you're well, you completely forget all the promises you made to yourself when you were sweating and shivering in bed all night. "I'll never kiss strangers, I'll wash my hands 10 times a day, I'll always wear my jacket when I go outside." Once you're back on your feet, it's, "Hey dude, can I have a sip of your drink? Oh, I don't care if you just coughed in it, I'm so thirsty." Oh well, I just hope I get better soon so I can get back to smoking two packs a day and licking public toilets.
A Conversation With Lindsay Lohan
Hello? Lindsay? Hey, how are you? What's that, you and Wilmer broke up? Oh my God, I had no idea you two were on the skids. I'm so sorry to hear that, what happened? Typical"what an asshole. You know, I never thought you two were right for each other anyway. You're so much more talented than him.
What's that? You don't think anyone will care about you anymore now that you don't have Wilmer? Puuuullleeeze! If anything, Wilmer was holding you back. What's he going to do now? "Hey, I'm Wilmer Valderama"Look at me, I'm on a TV show with Ashton Kutcher"take my picture." Yeah right, he's so done he's setting off the smoke alarm. Now you can fully explore all of your talents like having a big rack and red hair.
Of course you'll find someone. Don't talk like that, Lindster. You're hot you're young and you're box office gold. Yeah, I know, I heard what they said on "Access Hollywood" too. Of course it's not true. Nobody thinks you're a hard-partying, talent-less, "it" girl. What do they know anyway? They said that kid from "American Pie" was gonna be the next Dustin Hoffman.
Hold on, I have another call coming through".Hello? Oh, hey Wilmer, I heard what you did to Lindsay. No, I don't want to talk to you about it. I don't care, man, how could you? If I was in L.A., I would beat your ass, man. No, I don't want to come to your birthday party. What? You gonna cry? Awwww, maybe you should have thought about things before you acted. No, we can't still be friends. Why don't you and Freddie Prince Jr. go and have an ice cream together at the Has-Been Café. Don't call me anymore.
Lindsay, you still there? Ok, guess who called? Yeah, it was Wilmer. He was crying because I told him that I didn't want to be his friend anymore. What? I can still be friends with him and you wouldn't care? Lindster, would I do that to you? Of course not, babes. How could I stay friends with someone who hurt my best-buddy so bad? Who's my number one lady? C'mon"who is she? That's right, you!
Lindster, don't cry"oh no, baby, don't. I can't stand hearing you cry. You know what, forget my plans, you need me now. I'm getting on the next plane to L.A. I remember when things between Nora and I ended, you were the first one at my apartment with hugs and chocolate. I've never forgotten that and I have the same for you"well, I'll get lactose-free chocolate because of your irritable bowel syndrome. Yeah, send a driver for me. I'll be at LAX in five hours. What? You need me to go to the liquor store for you? No prob. I'll get a big bottle of Caring and a huge bottle of Friendship"and some gin.
What's that? You don't think anyone will care about you anymore now that you don't have Wilmer? Puuuullleeeze! If anything, Wilmer was holding you back. What's he going to do now? "Hey, I'm Wilmer Valderama"Look at me, I'm on a TV show with Ashton Kutcher"take my picture." Yeah right, he's so done he's setting off the smoke alarm. Now you can fully explore all of your talents like having a big rack and red hair.
Of course you'll find someone. Don't talk like that, Lindster. You're hot you're young and you're box office gold. Yeah, I know, I heard what they said on "Access Hollywood" too. Of course it's not true. Nobody thinks you're a hard-partying, talent-less, "it" girl. What do they know anyway? They said that kid from "American Pie" was gonna be the next Dustin Hoffman.
Hold on, I have another call coming through".Hello? Oh, hey Wilmer, I heard what you did to Lindsay. No, I don't want to talk to you about it. I don't care, man, how could you? If I was in L.A., I would beat your ass, man. No, I don't want to come to your birthday party. What? You gonna cry? Awwww, maybe you should have thought about things before you acted. No, we can't still be friends. Why don't you and Freddie Prince Jr. go and have an ice cream together at the Has-Been Café. Don't call me anymore.
Lindsay, you still there? Ok, guess who called? Yeah, it was Wilmer. He was crying because I told him that I didn't want to be his friend anymore. What? I can still be friends with him and you wouldn't care? Lindster, would I do that to you? Of course not, babes. How could I stay friends with someone who hurt my best-buddy so bad? Who's my number one lady? C'mon"who is she? That's right, you!
Lindster, don't cry"oh no, baby, don't. I can't stand hearing you cry. You know what, forget my plans, you need me now. I'm getting on the next plane to L.A. I remember when things between Nora and I ended, you were the first one at my apartment with hugs and chocolate. I've never forgotten that and I have the same for you"well, I'll get lactose-free chocolate because of your irritable bowel syndrome. Yeah, send a driver for me. I'll be at LAX in five hours. What? You need me to go to the liquor store for you? No prob. I'll get a big bottle of Caring and a huge bottle of Friendship"and some gin.
A Conversation With Lindsay Lohan
Hello? Lindsay? Hey, how are you? What's that, you and Wilmer broke up? Oh my God, I had no idea you two were on the skids. I'm so sorry to hear that, what happened? Typical"what an asshole. You know, I never thought you two were right for each other anyway. You're so much more talented than him.
What's that? You don't think anyone will care about you anymore now that you don't have Wilmer? Puuuullleeeze! If anything, Wilmer was holding you back. What's he going to do now? "Hey, I'm Wilmer Valderama"Look at me, I'm on a TV show with Ashton Kutcher"take my picture." Yeah right, he's so done he's setting off the smoke alarm. Now you can fully explore all of your talents like having a big rack and red hair.
Of course you'll find someone. Don't talk like that, Lindster. You're hot you're young and you're box office gold. Yeah, I know, I heard what they said on "Access Hollywood" too. Of course it's not true. Nobody thinks you're a hard-partying, talent-less, "it" girl. What do they know anyway? They said that kid from "American Pie" was gonna be the next Dustin Hoffman.
Hold on, I have another call coming through".Hello? Oh, hey Wilmer, I heard what you did to Lindsay. No, I don't want to talk to you about it. I don't care, man, how could you? If I was in L.A., I would beat your ass, man. No, I don't want to come to your birthday party. What? You gonna cry? Awwww, maybe you should have thought about things before you acted. No, we can't still be friends. Why don't you and Freddie Prinze Jr. go and have an ice cream together at the Has-Been Café. Don't call me anymore.
Lindsay, you still there? Ok, guess who called? Yeah, it was Wilmer. He was crying because I told him that I didn't want to be his friend anymore. What? I can still be friends with him and you wouldn't care? Lindster, would I do that to you? Of course not, babes. How could I stay friends with someone who hurt my best-buddy so bad? Who's my number one lady? C'mon"who is she? That's right, you!
Lindster, don't cry"oh no, baby, don't. I can't stand hearing you cry. You know what, forget my plans, you need me now. I'm getting on the next plane to L.A. I remember when things between Nora and I ended, you were the first one at my apartment with hugs and chocolate. I've never forgotten that and I have the same for you"well, I'll get lactose-free chocolate because of your irritable bowel syndrome. Yeah, send a driver for me. I'll be at LAX in five hours. What? You need me to go to the liquor store for you? No prob. I'll get a big bottle of Caring and a huge bottle of Friendship"and some gin.
1. Aaron Karo has a new issue of Ruminations out today, so check that out.
2. If you live in LA, we're putting on a CollegeHumor comedy night at the Improv in Hollywood- this Wednesday night at 10pm. Info is here. Tickets are free if you e-mail guestlist@gleib.com with your name. It's gonna have some really funny people (Steve Hofstetter from CH, Dan Levy from MTV, and Ben Gleib from National Lampoon), so be there.
3. This update has been brought to you by CollegeHumor Raw, the ad-free version of the site with more pictures of boobs that girls take of themselves and send in. Now... hotlinks? Yeah, hotlinks.
What's that? You don't think anyone will care about you anymore now that you don't have Wilmer? Puuuullleeeze! If anything, Wilmer was holding you back. What's he going to do now? "Hey, I'm Wilmer Valderama"Look at me, I'm on a TV show with Ashton Kutcher"take my picture." Yeah right, he's so done he's setting off the smoke alarm. Now you can fully explore all of your talents like having a big rack and red hair.
Of course you'll find someone. Don't talk like that, Lindster. You're hot you're young and you're box office gold. Yeah, I know, I heard what they said on "Access Hollywood" too. Of course it's not true. Nobody thinks you're a hard-partying, talent-less, "it" girl. What do they know anyway? They said that kid from "American Pie" was gonna be the next Dustin Hoffman.
Hold on, I have another call coming through".Hello? Oh, hey Wilmer, I heard what you did to Lindsay. No, I don't want to talk to you about it. I don't care, man, how could you? If I was in L.A., I would beat your ass, man. No, I don't want to come to your birthday party. What? You gonna cry? Awwww, maybe you should have thought about things before you acted. No, we can't still be friends. Why don't you and Freddie Prinze Jr. go and have an ice cream together at the Has-Been Café. Don't call me anymore.Lindsay, you still there? Ok, guess who called? Yeah, it was Wilmer. He was crying because I told him that I didn't want to be his friend anymore. What? I can still be friends with him and you wouldn't care? Lindster, would I do that to you? Of course not, babes. How could I stay friends with someone who hurt my best-buddy so bad? Who's my number one lady? C'mon"who is she? That's right, you!
Lindster, don't cry"oh no, baby, don't. I can't stand hearing you cry. You know what, forget my plans, you need me now. I'm getting on the next plane to L.A. I remember when things between Nora and I ended, you were the first one at my apartment with hugs and chocolate. I've never forgotten that and I have the same for you"well, I'll get lactose-free chocolate because of your irritable bowel syndrome. Yeah, send a driver for me. I'll be at LAX in five hours. What? You need me to go to the liquor store for you? No prob. I'll get a big bottle of Caring and a huge bottle of Friendship"and some gin.
1. Aaron Karo has a new issue of Ruminations out today, so check that out.
2. If you live in LA, we're putting on a CollegeHumor comedy night at the Improv in Hollywood- this Wednesday night at 10pm. Info is here. Tickets are free if you e-mail guestlist@gleib.com with your name. It's gonna have some really funny people (Steve Hofstetter from CH, Dan Levy from MTV, and Ben Gleib from National Lampoon), so be there.
3. This update has been brought to you by CollegeHumor Raw, the ad-free version of the site with more pictures of boobs that girls take of themselves and send in. Now... hotlinks? Yeah, hotlinks.
To: John Ashcroft. From: America
Hiya, John. So sorry to hear that you're leaving. We all really wanted to thank you for all the really great work you've done while in office and let you know that you will be sincerely missed. Your iron, almost Stalin-like, will made this country great again and, with you leaving, there will be a great gaping hole to fill - a great gaping hole that may allow our personal freedoms, which you hid down there, to escape. But now is not the time for such trivial matters. Everyone here got together and wrote down one thing that they really liked about you or your policies. So, Mr. Ashcroft, from the people of America to you"THANKS.
Billy Petti of Chicago wants to thank John Ashcroft for"The War in Iraq.
John, we all owe you a debt of gratitude for giving our President the motivation he needed to invade Iraq. Without your courage and conviction, we would have never been able to remove Saddam from power and confiscate all of his weapons of mass destruction"what? He didn't have any weapons of mass destruction? Well, we still needed a war and you found us one. Sure, we would have had Afghanistan without you, but that's not a real war. The great thing about the Iraqi war is that it has staying power. Hopefully, thanks to your genius, it will still be going on in twenty years. Thank you.
Mary Connolly of Albuquerque wants to thank John Ashcroft for"The Patriot Act.
I never knew how many freedoms I had before you took them all away. Thank you for making me realize how good I had it. Without the patriot act we wouldn't be able to identify terrorists or people who disagree with you"actually, those are basically the same thing. Now that people can be held in prison without trial or legal representation, we're finally honoring the Founding Father's dream of a totalitarian state where personal expression is a crime. And look at all the terrorist we've been able to apprehend with this amazing new law"three I think. Anyways, thank you for this great piece of legislation. I know I sleep a lot more comfortably at night now knowing that you're probably watching me from a satellite and monitoring all of my mail for "trigger" words.
Joe Santamiglio of New York City wants to thank John Ashcroft for"catching the bastard responsible for 9/11.
I'm a firefighter and I lost five of my closest friends when the twin towers fell. So, I just wanted to thank you for finally catching the bastard that did that to my city; Saddam Hussein. Justice has finally been served now that he is in custody and no longer free to plan terrorist attacks on America. The world truly is a safer place thanks to you. And, as if you haven't already done enough for us, you kill the men that flew the planes that day too so they can never perform another act of terrorism. From myself, on behalf of all New Yorkers, thank you for making sure that the man who killed so many innocent New Yorkers was captured. You can run Saddam, but you couldn't hide!
Tiffany Clotsburg of Campton, Oregon wants to thank John Ashcroft for"making sure my family knows how much danger we are in.
Before you took over, we never had a color chart to tell us what our chances are of dying that day. Thank you, John, for this important tool. Now that myself, my husband and our six-year-old daughter are scared senseless everyday, we aren't so quick to trust our neighbors of the "darker" variety, if you know what I mean. You finally stepped up and said, "hey America, you had better be scared and buy stuff because the terrorist are going to strike at anytime now"just look at the color bar, it's at yellow today.' That's what's really important. Do you know what Mindy, my six-year-old, wants for Christmas this year? A HazMat suit. Isn't that the sweetest and most patriotic thing you've ever heard? She even wanted to leave cookies and gin out for you on Christmas Eve. So, from Mindy and myself, thank you.
John, you've done a great job. Don't let little things like the 9/11 Commission Report, the illusive Osama Bin Laden, the everlasting Iraqi War, national panic levels at their highest ever, or the death of liberty dampen your spirits. No matter what the rest of the world says, you're the best. Hey, I never liked speaking my mind anyway. Thank you, John Ashcroft"Thank you.
Billy Petti of Chicago wants to thank John Ashcroft for"The War in Iraq.
John, we all owe you a debt of gratitude for giving our President the motivation he needed to invade Iraq. Without your courage and conviction, we would have never been able to remove Saddam from power and confiscate all of his weapons of mass destruction"what? He didn't have any weapons of mass destruction? Well, we still needed a war and you found us one. Sure, we would have had Afghanistan without you, but that's not a real war. The great thing about the Iraqi war is that it has staying power. Hopefully, thanks to your genius, it will still be going on in twenty years. Thank you.
Mary Connolly of Albuquerque wants to thank John Ashcroft for"The Patriot Act.
I never knew how many freedoms I had before you took them all away. Thank you for making me realize how good I had it. Without the patriot act we wouldn't be able to identify terrorists or people who disagree with you"actually, those are basically the same thing. Now that people can be held in prison without trial or legal representation, we're finally honoring the Founding Father's dream of a totalitarian state where personal expression is a crime. And look at all the terrorist we've been able to apprehend with this amazing new law"three I think. Anyways, thank you for this great piece of legislation. I know I sleep a lot more comfortably at night now knowing that you're probably watching me from a satellite and monitoring all of my mail for "trigger" words.
Joe Santamiglio of New York City wants to thank John Ashcroft for"catching the bastard responsible for 9/11.
I'm a firefighter and I lost five of my closest friends when the twin towers fell. So, I just wanted to thank you for finally catching the bastard that did that to my city; Saddam Hussein. Justice has finally been served now that he is in custody and no longer free to plan terrorist attacks on America. The world truly is a safer place thanks to you. And, as if you haven't already done enough for us, you kill the men that flew the planes that day too so they can never perform another act of terrorism. From myself, on behalf of all New Yorkers, thank you for making sure that the man who killed so many innocent New Yorkers was captured. You can run Saddam, but you couldn't hide!
Tiffany Clotsburg of Campton, Oregon wants to thank John Ashcroft for"making sure my family knows how much danger we are in.
Before you took over, we never had a color chart to tell us what our chances are of dying that day. Thank you, John, for this important tool. Now that myself, my husband and our six-year-old daughter are scared senseless everyday, we aren't so quick to trust our neighbors of the "darker" variety, if you know what I mean. You finally stepped up and said, "hey America, you had better be scared and buy stuff because the terrorist are going to strike at anytime now"just look at the color bar, it's at yellow today.' That's what's really important. Do you know what Mindy, my six-year-old, wants for Christmas this year? A HazMat suit. Isn't that the sweetest and most patriotic thing you've ever heard? She even wanted to leave cookies and gin out for you on Christmas Eve. So, from Mindy and myself, thank you.
John, you've done a great job. Don't let little things like the 9/11 Commission Report, the illusive Osama Bin Laden, the everlasting Iraqi War, national panic levels at their highest ever, or the death of liberty dampen your spirits. No matter what the rest of the world says, you're the best. Hey, I never liked speaking my mind anyway. Thank you, John Ashcroft"Thank you.
Grand Theft Auto - Appalachia
Many young minds have been warped into thinking that killing hookers and stealing cars is perfectly acceptable behavior. Why? The answer lies in the biggest video game of all time: Grand Theft Auto - San Andreas. The makers of this digi-hit have struck a chord with millions of young men who can really relate to the protagonist of the game. Hey, let's be honest, who hasn't needed to kill a cop with a chainsaw at some point in their life?
The popularity of "GTA - San Andreas" has convinced Rockst*r games to go ahead and extend the GTA franchise even further. When the hype from San Andreas dies down, Rockst*r Games plans to release its much awaited follow-up; Grand Theft Lawnmower: Appalachia. We here at Collegehumor.com, being the leading voice in digital entertainment, have received an advanced copy. Here are some of the features of this much-anticipated release.
-The main character, Jed, must find his way back Sputterin' Creek, North Carolina after he accidentally falls in Shitbed Creek and is carried downstream to Clumpville, Georgia.
-Unlike the previous GTAs where characters had guns and bats, Jed is only equipped with a rusty bike chain and an old, dirty monkey wrench to protect himself.
-Sheriff Pigswill, riding atop his modified John Deere Tractor, hounds Jed every step of the way.
-Other than Sheriff Pigswill, Jed must also contend with Watermelon Heads (inbred yocals who live in the woods), Rabid Dogs (if killed and eaten, player awarded 25 points), and the dreaded Northern Yuppie (a white, upper-class man from Hartford who wants to open a Starbucks in Sputterin' Creek)
-While the characters in previous GTAs had to steal cars, Jed does not. Instead, he must assemble each of his vehicles from rusty parts strewn across front yards. "Big "Ol Tractor" and "Rusty 84 TransAm" are two of the best.
-Instead of raping and killing hookers to get money, Jed rapes and kills his many sisters. He then steals the child support money he had to send them.
-For each bottle of moonshine Jed picks up, the player is awarded 50 points. For every dead raccoon Jed eats, the player is awarded 70 points. For every tooth Jed loses while fighting his wife, the player loses 100 health points.
-Voiceover work provided by Billy Bob Thorton, Kenny Chesney, Garth Brooks, and the entire cast of "Blue Collar TV."
-Player has optional "shirt on" and "shirt off" modes to choose from when running from police.
-Player can customize Jed's wardrobe from a pre-selected list of clothing options that include red trucker hat, "Daddy's little girl" T-Shirt from Goodwill, black tapered jeans with rip below ass cheek, mismatched Payless shoes, blue sweat rag tied to arm, half-empty cigarette pack for rolling in sleeve, and wrap-around sunglasses from 1982.
-Player can also customize Jed's hairstyle by choosing one of the following: mullet, Flobie™ home cut, greasy long hair (with or without rat tail), and the half-shave (with or without surgical scar from chainsaw incident).
-Soundtrack full of great Appalachian songs such as "I Aint Never Not Heard Of No Tele-Vision Before," "Hey Grandma, Wanna Do It?" and "That Squirell Looks Dern Tasty." The songs are chosen by adjusting the coat hanger antenna duct taped to Jed's vehicles.
"Grand Theft Lawnmower - Appalachia" promises to be one of the hottest games of next year. Hailed as a forward-looking piece of interactive gaming, "Grand Theft Lawnmower - Appalachia" will certainly make bank for Rockst*r Games and provide a whole generation with yet another embarrassingly derogatory stereotype. Hey, it's like Jed says throughout the game""Dang it, and I thunk you weren't my sister. Oh-d-well, that was some good lovin anyways!"
The popularity of "GTA - San Andreas" has convinced Rockst*r games to go ahead and extend the GTA franchise even further. When the hype from San Andreas dies down, Rockst*r Games plans to release its much awaited follow-up; Grand Theft Lawnmower: Appalachia. We here at Collegehumor.com, being the leading voice in digital entertainment, have received an advanced copy. Here are some of the features of this much-anticipated release.
-The main character, Jed, must find his way back Sputterin' Creek, North Carolina after he accidentally falls in Shitbed Creek and is carried downstream to Clumpville, Georgia.
-Unlike the previous GTAs where characters had guns and bats, Jed is only equipped with a rusty bike chain and an old, dirty monkey wrench to protect himself.
-Sheriff Pigswill, riding atop his modified John Deere Tractor, hounds Jed every step of the way.
-Other than Sheriff Pigswill, Jed must also contend with Watermelon Heads (inbred yocals who live in the woods), Rabid Dogs (if killed and eaten, player awarded 25 points), and the dreaded Northern Yuppie (a white, upper-class man from Hartford who wants to open a Starbucks in Sputterin' Creek)
-While the characters in previous GTAs had to steal cars, Jed does not. Instead, he must assemble each of his vehicles from rusty parts strewn across front yards. "Big "Ol Tractor" and "Rusty 84 TransAm" are two of the best.
-Instead of raping and killing hookers to get money, Jed rapes and kills his many sisters. He then steals the child support money he had to send them.
-For each bottle of moonshine Jed picks up, the player is awarded 50 points. For every dead raccoon Jed eats, the player is awarded 70 points. For every tooth Jed loses while fighting his wife, the player loses 100 health points.
-Voiceover work provided by Billy Bob Thorton, Kenny Chesney, Garth Brooks, and the entire cast of "Blue Collar TV."
-Player has optional "shirt on" and "shirt off" modes to choose from when running from police.
-Player can customize Jed's wardrobe from a pre-selected list of clothing options that include red trucker hat, "Daddy's little girl" T-Shirt from Goodwill, black tapered jeans with rip below ass cheek, mismatched Payless shoes, blue sweat rag tied to arm, half-empty cigarette pack for rolling in sleeve, and wrap-around sunglasses from 1982.
-Player can also customize Jed's hairstyle by choosing one of the following: mullet, Flobie™ home cut, greasy long hair (with or without rat tail), and the half-shave (with or without surgical scar from chainsaw incident).
-Soundtrack full of great Appalachian songs such as "I Aint Never Not Heard Of No Tele-Vision Before," "Hey Grandma, Wanna Do It?" and "That Squirell Looks Dern Tasty." The songs are chosen by adjusting the coat hanger antenna duct taped to Jed's vehicles.
"Grand Theft Lawnmower - Appalachia" promises to be one of the hottest games of next year. Hailed as a forward-looking piece of interactive gaming, "Grand Theft Lawnmower - Appalachia" will certainly make bank for Rockst*r Games and provide a whole generation with yet another embarrassingly derogatory stereotype. Hey, it's like Jed says throughout the game""Dang it, and I thunk you weren't my sister. Oh-d-well, that was some good lovin anyways!"
Bathroom Habits
I once read somewhere that men spend 1/16th of their lives on the toilet. Actually, I probably read that on the toilet. Women are fascinated - and disgusted - by our love of the throne. "Why do they stay in there so long?" they ask. "What could you possibly be doing in there?" they demand. Ladies, I am here to answer your questions and explain our love of the toilet.
Number one (or number two), we like the privacy. It's really the only place that we can sit down and think without any interruptions. Nobody would dare venture in the bathroom when we are doing our business and for good reason. Like the blowfish or the chameleon, men have a built in defense mechanism. When we are bugged and pestered to do things, we retreat to the bathroom and emit noxious gas to keep others away from us. It works so well, you would be hard pressed to find a woman who is willing to open the door and go in when her man is on the can. Clearly she would not survive such an adventure. Nature is a mysterious, beautiful thing.
Because we are afforded such seclusion, men get most of their reading done on the toilet as well. But we don't read just an article or just a chapter; we read the whole damn thing. That accounts for most of the time spent in there - hey, "War and Peace" is a pretty damn long book. The actually "making" time is no more than yours, but we like to linger and catch up on those "really funny articles" in Playboy. Also, we can read pornography in the bathroom without your eyes glaring shamefully at us. Plus, we don't have time to read outside the bathroom"you're always making us change a light bulb or a kill a bug.
The bathroom also gives men conversation topics with other men. I cannot tell you how many times I've heard a conversation open with "Man, I took the biggest shit today." The conversers will go on to talk about texture, color and duration before having a good laugh at the misfortune of the protagonist. It may sound disgusting to you, but it's funny to us. Fart jokes and bathroom stories have been a part of the male humor personality since an intrepid caveman put his lips to his hand and blew the first fart noise. Any man, from 1 to 100 will laugh at a fart and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, so stop trying.
Most of all, the bathroom is our territory. Men have been losing tracts of household to their women for years and years. The deck used to be a place for grilling with you bros - now it's full of planters and wicker furniture. The living room used to be a haven for sports memorabilia and inflatable furniture - now it's got drapes and a Glade Plug-In. The kitchen used to be the place where you stacked the pizza boxes and kept the beer cold - now the fridge is filled with carrots and there's a bowl of wooden fruit on the counter. Even the garage, which used to house tools and a 65' Mustang, has been turned into a "craft studio" for your lady to make those tea cozies your Mom loves so much. But the bathroom"the bathroom is ours! Go ahead ladies, put some matching towels and some decorative soap in, but don't you dare take away our magazine stack. Ladies can decorate all they want in the bathroom but they cannot touch the inherent masculinity of the space. No matter how you slice it, the toilet is a male piece of furniture.
So, ladies, that is why we adore this room so. We love you and will happily surrender many aspects of our lives to you, but do not disturb our bathroom habits. In this crazy world, that's the one thing we can count on. No matter how hard our day had been and how much the world had beaten us down, we always know we can sit on the toilet, reflect and come out feeling better. Don't bang on the door. Don't ask ridiculous questions while we're doing our business. And please, please, don't feel like you should be as open about your bathroom habits as we are about ours"that's F-ing disgusting.
Number one (or number two), we like the privacy. It's really the only place that we can sit down and think without any interruptions. Nobody would dare venture in the bathroom when we are doing our business and for good reason. Like the blowfish or the chameleon, men have a built in defense mechanism. When we are bugged and pestered to do things, we retreat to the bathroom and emit noxious gas to keep others away from us. It works so well, you would be hard pressed to find a woman who is willing to open the door and go in when her man is on the can. Clearly she would not survive such an adventure. Nature is a mysterious, beautiful thing.
Because we are afforded such seclusion, men get most of their reading done on the toilet as well. But we don't read just an article or just a chapter; we read the whole damn thing. That accounts for most of the time spent in there - hey, "War and Peace" is a pretty damn long book. The actually "making" time is no more than yours, but we like to linger and catch up on those "really funny articles" in Playboy. Also, we can read pornography in the bathroom without your eyes glaring shamefully at us. Plus, we don't have time to read outside the bathroom"you're always making us change a light bulb or a kill a bug.
The bathroom also gives men conversation topics with other men. I cannot tell you how many times I've heard a conversation open with "Man, I took the biggest shit today." The conversers will go on to talk about texture, color and duration before having a good laugh at the misfortune of the protagonist. It may sound disgusting to you, but it's funny to us. Fart jokes and bathroom stories have been a part of the male humor personality since an intrepid caveman put his lips to his hand and blew the first fart noise. Any man, from 1 to 100 will laugh at a fart and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, so stop trying.
Most of all, the bathroom is our territory. Men have been losing tracts of household to their women for years and years. The deck used to be a place for grilling with you bros - now it's full of planters and wicker furniture. The living room used to be a haven for sports memorabilia and inflatable furniture - now it's got drapes and a Glade Plug-In. The kitchen used to be the place where you stacked the pizza boxes and kept the beer cold - now the fridge is filled with carrots and there's a bowl of wooden fruit on the counter. Even the garage, which used to house tools and a 65' Mustang, has been turned into a "craft studio" for your lady to make those tea cozies your Mom loves so much. But the bathroom"the bathroom is ours! Go ahead ladies, put some matching towels and some decorative soap in, but don't you dare take away our magazine stack. Ladies can decorate all they want in the bathroom but they cannot touch the inherent masculinity of the space. No matter how you slice it, the toilet is a male piece of furniture.
So, ladies, that is why we adore this room so. We love you and will happily surrender many aspects of our lives to you, but do not disturb our bathroom habits. In this crazy world, that's the one thing we can count on. No matter how hard our day had been and how much the world had beaten us down, we always know we can sit on the toilet, reflect and come out feeling better. Don't bang on the door. Don't ask ridiculous questions while we're doing our business. And please, please, don't feel like you should be as open about your bathroom habits as we are about ours"that's F-ing disgusting.
What Will Become Of That Costume?
Every Halloween millions of us dress up as any variety of fanciful figures. Some us may choose a complicated costume, some will choose a simple one. If you're a girl it's most likely that you will be a "sexy" something (i.e. nurse, schoolgirl, devil, witch, pediatrician, etc.). If you're a guy, you'll most likely be something on the funny side or something you describe as "giant": a videogame character, a mocking depiction of a celebrity or a giant dick. But what is to come of your costume after the witching hour?
No doubt many of you are wondering what to do with that "giant douche" costume you and your friends worked so hard on. Or maybe you're racking your brain trying to find a use for your "Ambiguously Gay Duo" outfit. Anyway you slice it, the question remains: now that I've got my candy, what can I do with this Lil' John pimp chalice?
Girls have it much easier. Since they will most likely dress sexy, their costumes can be re-used in the bedroom. What man wouldn't be delighted to see his lady come out of the bathroom in a Smurfette costume (minus the body paint"or not)? If I had a girlfriend I would make her wear her costume around the house long after Halloween. My friends would come over in August and marvel at my girlfriend's "sexy plumber" outfit. Girls, being much smarter than men, know this and will occasionally break out a piece of a former costume from time to time: some fishnets here, a sequined bra there, maybe even some chaps"who knows.
We men, being the less intelligent species, are still faced with the daunting task of deciding the fate of our much-beloved costumes. We can't really wear the costumes in the bedroom - no lady really wants to see you come out of the bathroom all horny and wearing your "giant condom" costume. We can't even wear pieces of the costumes; "No honey, it's ok. I'm not wearing the entire Super Mario Bros. costume"just the mustache." It aint gonna work, my friend. And don't even think about wearing it again. We all remember the kid from grade school who wore the same thing every year"what a douche! Yeah, I'm talking to you, Tom.
There are a few options when dealing with a used Halloween costume. You could always try to give it to a friend who doesn't have the flare for dressing up that you do. He was the one on Halloween walking around in jeans and a T-Shirt saying, "I'm a college student"see, I have a (school's name) T-Shirt on." Pull him aside and explain that no one thinks his little "ironic" costume is funny and that next year, he should probably wear your "gay pirate" costume to redeem himself. Sadly, though, many of these young men have too much pride to accept your generous gift. But don't give up hope yet because there is always"
The homeless! Anyone who sleeps on a bench and wears 12 coats in summer will be more than happy to snag a nice "Power Ranger" suit. The homeless will freely take your cans and leftovers, so why not your old Halloween costume? Plus, then people won't be so afraid of the homeless anymore. When was the last time you ran away from someone in a "Quailman" costume? Never. So you won't be scared if you see a homeless guy lurking down the alley in one, will you? Plus, that costume isn't even a stretch for many homeless people"a lot of them wear their underwear on the outside anyway.
To facilitate this plan, I will put in place a system of drop boxes for people to dump their old costumes in"kind of like the Red Cross. Every year, hundreds of college students will roll up to these boxes and dump in "flasher-man suits", "giant tampon costumes" and thousands of masks ranging from George W. to "Mr. Penis Nose." This way, college students help themselves by ridding their dorms of large, awkward costumes and they help others by providing Wendel with that spandex body suit he's always wanted.
That, or you could just throw it away.
Steve has a new column out so check that. Thanks to MagazinesForCheap (Maxim and Stuff for $10) for sponsoring this update. Now, hotlinkers!
No doubt many of you are wondering what to do with that "giant douche" costume you and your friends worked so hard on. Or maybe you're racking your brain trying to find a use for your "Ambiguously Gay Duo" outfit. Anyway you slice it, the question remains: now that I've got my candy, what can I do with this Lil' John pimp chalice?
Girls have it much easier. Since they will most likely dress sexy, their costumes can be re-used in the bedroom. What man wouldn't be delighted to see his lady come out of the bathroom in a Smurfette costume (minus the body paint"or not)? If I had a girlfriend I would make her wear her costume around the house long after Halloween. My friends would come over in August and marvel at my girlfriend's "sexy plumber" outfit. Girls, being much smarter than men, know this and will occasionally break out a piece of a former costume from time to time: some fishnets here, a sequined bra there, maybe even some chaps"who knows.
We men, being the less intelligent species, are still faced with the daunting task of deciding the fate of our much-beloved costumes. We can't really wear the costumes in the bedroom - no lady really wants to see you come out of the bathroom all horny and wearing your "giant condom" costume. We can't even wear pieces of the costumes; "No honey, it's ok. I'm not wearing the entire Super Mario Bros. costume"just the mustache." It aint gonna work, my friend. And don't even think about wearing it again. We all remember the kid from grade school who wore the same thing every year"what a douche! Yeah, I'm talking to you, Tom.There are a few options when dealing with a used Halloween costume. You could always try to give it to a friend who doesn't have the flare for dressing up that you do. He was the one on Halloween walking around in jeans and a T-Shirt saying, "I'm a college student"see, I have a (school's name) T-Shirt on." Pull him aside and explain that no one thinks his little "ironic" costume is funny and that next year, he should probably wear your "gay pirate" costume to redeem himself. Sadly, though, many of these young men have too much pride to accept your generous gift. But don't give up hope yet because there is always"
The homeless! Anyone who sleeps on a bench and wears 12 coats in summer will be more than happy to snag a nice "Power Ranger" suit. The homeless will freely take your cans and leftovers, so why not your old Halloween costume? Plus, then people won't be so afraid of the homeless anymore. When was the last time you ran away from someone in a "Quailman" costume? Never. So you won't be scared if you see a homeless guy lurking down the alley in one, will you? Plus, that costume isn't even a stretch for many homeless people"a lot of them wear their underwear on the outside anyway.
To facilitate this plan, I will put in place a system of drop boxes for people to dump their old costumes in"kind of like the Red Cross. Every year, hundreds of college students will roll up to these boxes and dump in "flasher-man suits", "giant tampon costumes" and thousands of masks ranging from George W. to "Mr. Penis Nose." This way, college students help themselves by ridding their dorms of large, awkward costumes and they help others by providing Wendel with that spandex body suit he's always wanted.
That, or you could just throw it away.
Steve has a new column out so check that. Thanks to MagazinesForCheap (Maxim and Stuff for $10) for sponsoring this update. Now, hotlinkers!
What Will Become Of That Costume?
What Will Become Of That Costume?
Every Halloween millions of us dress up as any variety of fanciful figures. Some us may choose a complicated costume, some will choose a simple one. If you're a girl it's most likely that you will be a "sexy" something (i.e. nurse, schoolgirl, devil, witch, pediatrician, etc.). If you're a guy, you'll most likely be something on the funny side or something you describe as "giant": a videogame character, a mocking depiction of a celebrity or a giant dick. But what is to come of your costume after the witching hour?
No doubt many of you are wondering what to do with that "giant douche" costume you and your friends worked so hard on. Or maybe you're racking your brain trying to find a use for your "Ambiguously Gay Duo" outfit. Anyway you slice it, the question remains: now that I've got my candy, what can I do with this Lil' John pimp chalice?
Girls have it much easier. Since they will most likely dress sexy, their costumes can be re-used in the bedroom. What man wouldn't be delighted to see his lady come out of the bathroom in a Smurfette costume (minus the body paint"or not)? If I had a girlfriend I would make her wear her costume around the house long after Halloween. My friends would come over in August and marvel at my girlfriend's "sexy plumber" outfit. Girls, being much smarter than men, know this and will occasionally break out a piece of a former costume from time to time: some fishnets here, a sequined bra there, maybe even some chaps"who knows.
We men, being the less intelligent species, are still faced with the daunting task of deciding the fate of our much-beloved costumes. We can't really wear the costumes in the bedroom - no lady really wants to see you come out of the bathroom all horny and wearing your "giant condom" costume. We can't even wear pieces of the costumes; "No honey, it's ok. I'm not wearing the entire Super Mario Bros. costume"just the mustache." It aint gonna work, my friend. And don't even think about wearing it again. We all remember the kid from grade school who wore the same thing every year"what a douche! Yeah, I'm talking to you, Tom.
There are a few options when dealing with a used Halloween costume. You could always try to give it to a friend who doesn't have the flare for dressing up that you do. He was the one on Halloween walking around in jeans and a T-Shirt saying, "I'm a college student"see, I have a (school's name) T-Shirt on." Pull him aside and explain that no one thinks his little "ironic" costume is funny and that next year, he should probably wear your "gay pirate" costume to redeem himself. Sadly, though, many of these young men have too much pride to accept your generous gift. But don't give up hope yet because there is always"
The homeless! Anyone who sleeps on a bench and wears 12 coats in summer will be more than happy to snag a nice "Power Ranger" suit. The homeless will freely take your cans and leftovers, so why not your old Halloween costume? Plus, then people won't be so afraid of the homeless anymore. When was the last time you ran away from someone in a "Quailman" costume? Never. So you won't be scared if you see a homeless guy lurking down the alley in one, will you? Plus, that costume isn't even a stretch for many homeless people"a lot of them wear their underwear on the outside anyway.
To facilitate this plan, I will put in place a system of drop boxes for people to dump their old costumes in"kind of like the Red Cross. Every year, hundreds of college students will roll up to these boxes and dump in "flasher-man suits", "giant tampon costumes" and thousands of masks ranging from George W. to "Mr. Penis Nose." This way, college students help themselves by ridding their dorms of large, awkward costumes and they help others by providing Wendel with that spandex body suit he's always wanted.
That, or you could just throw it away.
Every Halloween millions of us dress up as any variety of fanciful figures. Some us may choose a complicated costume, some will choose a simple one. If you're a girl it's most likely that you will be a "sexy" something (i.e. nurse, schoolgirl, devil, witch, pediatrician, etc.). If you're a guy, you'll most likely be something on the funny side or something you describe as "giant": a videogame character, a mocking depiction of a celebrity or a giant dick. But what is to come of your costume after the witching hour?
No doubt many of you are wondering what to do with that "giant douche" costume you and your friends worked so hard on. Or maybe you're racking your brain trying to find a use for your "Ambiguously Gay Duo" outfit. Anyway you slice it, the question remains: now that I've got my candy, what can I do with this Lil' John pimp chalice?
Girls have it much easier. Since they will most likely dress sexy, their costumes can be re-used in the bedroom. What man wouldn't be delighted to see his lady come out of the bathroom in a Smurfette costume (minus the body paint"or not)? If I had a girlfriend I would make her wear her costume around the house long after Halloween. My friends would come over in August and marvel at my girlfriend's "sexy plumber" outfit. Girls, being much smarter than men, know this and will occasionally break out a piece of a former costume from time to time: some fishnets here, a sequined bra there, maybe even some chaps"who knows.
We men, being the less intelligent species, are still faced with the daunting task of deciding the fate of our much-beloved costumes. We can't really wear the costumes in the bedroom - no lady really wants to see you come out of the bathroom all horny and wearing your "giant condom" costume. We can't even wear pieces of the costumes; "No honey, it's ok. I'm not wearing the entire Super Mario Bros. costume"just the mustache." It aint gonna work, my friend. And don't even think about wearing it again. We all remember the kid from grade school who wore the same thing every year"what a douche! Yeah, I'm talking to you, Tom.
There are a few options when dealing with a used Halloween costume. You could always try to give it to a friend who doesn't have the flare for dressing up that you do. He was the one on Halloween walking around in jeans and a T-Shirt saying, "I'm a college student"see, I have a (school's name) T-Shirt on." Pull him aside and explain that no one thinks his little "ironic" costume is funny and that next year, he should probably wear your "gay pirate" costume to redeem himself. Sadly, though, many of these young men have too much pride to accept your generous gift. But don't give up hope yet because there is always"
The homeless! Anyone who sleeps on a bench and wears 12 coats in summer will be more than happy to snag a nice "Power Ranger" suit. The homeless will freely take your cans and leftovers, so why not your old Halloween costume? Plus, then people won't be so afraid of the homeless anymore. When was the last time you ran away from someone in a "Quailman" costume? Never. So you won't be scared if you see a homeless guy lurking down the alley in one, will you? Plus, that costume isn't even a stretch for many homeless people"a lot of them wear their underwear on the outside anyway.
To facilitate this plan, I will put in place a system of drop boxes for people to dump their old costumes in"kind of like the Red Cross. Every year, hundreds of college students will roll up to these boxes and dump in "flasher-man suits", "giant tampon costumes" and thousands of masks ranging from George W. to "Mr. Penis Nose." This way, college students help themselves by ridding their dorms of large, awkward costumes and they help others by providing Wendel with that spandex body suit he's always wanted.
That, or you could just throw it away.
The Election Poem; By A Disgruntled Liberal
The Election Poem,
By Streeter Seidell - disgruntled liberal
For many days and weeks and months
We heard the pundits scream.
And now the votes are in and done
And Bush will reign supreme.
They talked and fought and tried so hard
to mobilize their base.
And in the end, one had to win
In this - a heated race.
The Left invested so much hope
In Kerry, like a friend.
The Boston Sox got their win but
That's where the Mass. streak ends
Bush has toppled a mighty foe
Who many thought would win.
The Jews will weep, the black man cries
While WASPs will wear a grin.
No abortion or welfare checks
And no more gays to boot.
Now we'll have oil and big "ol cars
And prayer right back in schools.
Thank God a man of moral worth
Controls the FCC
Now we won't worry anymore
Bout tits on our TVs.
Some might say that our President
Talks with a bigger boss.
He lived a long, long time ago
They nailed him to a cross.
For now we live in angered shock
And feel we have been wronged.
While Nader voters go right back
To filling up their bongs.
And now things go back to normal
Until two-thousand-eight.
When pundits will scream once again
And we all fill with hate.
I will finally shut my mouth
And accept our defeat.
What can I do, it's over now
We're broken, bruised and beat.
Congrats to you, President Bush
On your win, as of late.
But now we have a brand new plan
HILLARY IN '08!
By Streeter Seidell - disgruntled liberal
For many days and weeks and months
We heard the pundits scream.
And now the votes are in and done
And Bush will reign supreme.
They talked and fought and tried so hard
to mobilize their base.
And in the end, one had to win
In this - a heated race.
The Left invested so much hope
In Kerry, like a friend.
The Boston Sox got their win but
That's where the Mass. streak ends
Bush has toppled a mighty foe
Who many thought would win.
The Jews will weep, the black man cries
While WASPs will wear a grin.
No abortion or welfare checks
And no more gays to boot.
Now we'll have oil and big "ol cars
And prayer right back in schools.
Thank God a man of moral worth
Controls the FCC
Now we won't worry anymore
Bout tits on our TVs.
Some might say that our President
Talks with a bigger boss.
He lived a long, long time ago
They nailed him to a cross.
For now we live in angered shock
And feel we have been wronged.
While Nader voters go right back
To filling up their bongs.
And now things go back to normal
Until two-thousand-eight.
When pundits will scream once again
And we all fill with hate.
I will finally shut my mouth
And accept our defeat.
What can I do, it's over now
We're broken, bruised and beat.
Congrats to you, President Bush
On your win, as of late.
But now we have a brand new plan
HILLARY IN '08!
Streeter Seidell
Fordham
About Me
About Me
Streeter enjoys many things, not least of which is being your front page editor here at CollegeHumor. In fact, he likes it so much he decided to get paid for it and make it his career. He spends his days making sure you have enough updates and hotlinks to keep you from your work for at least two hours. Streeter also likes to write; not well, mind you, but frequently. Please, enjoy his archive.
Thanks for being my Internet friend.
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