Streeter Seidell's Article Archive
8 total in March 2005The Stretch
The period from the first of April - or April Fools Day as it is scientifically known - till the middle of May marks the stretch; the dead time between spring break and the end of the year when college students are pushed to the brink of insanity. Surviving the stretch, as I have done three times, is not an easy task. The days are longer, the nights are shorter and your roommate's habit of singing along to Ashlee Simpson songs seems more annoying by the day. But why is the stretch so bad?
Just coming off spring break is hard enough for most of us. We had a week of booze-soaked revelry, playing in the waves and letting our pale skin blister in the sun. Returning to your dorm, your classes, your school's no-girls-after-11PM policy is just plain depressing. "Why" you think, "am I sitting here playing Snood when just two days ago I was doing body shots off a Hawaiian Tropic model in my underwear?" reality has a rude way of slapping you in the ass and coming home from spring break is no exception. But it gets worse.
The weather outside begins to warm up. Winter melts into spring and fat kids across the country cry as they put their beloved sweat pants and hoodies away for more revealing clothes. One would think that with this warm weather everything would be fantastic but it is not so. Your professors tried to take it easy on you all semester and only now are they realizing just how much work is left to be done. They will load you up with papers, quizzes and presentations thus creating the student's ultimate challenge - go to class when the weather is nice? No one likes to learn to begin with but it's even worse when everyone else is tossing Frisbees around outside. Man, do we love Frisbees.
On top of this terrible weather/class paradox, the student is also assaulted with the reality school is ending soon and they will have to move back home. Mom and Dad are good for many things like money, free laundry and money, but the impending dread of spending another summer with a curfew and chores is more than many of us can take. Not to mention that in nine out of ten cases your town is a boring, lifeless pit that you swore you would get away from. The bars suck, your old friends don't really "get" your new "identity" and your little brother is at that age when he's "discovering his body" in your old room.
However there is a way to survive the stretch. Just like buying a hooker, it's all about time management. I know thinking is difficult but I urge you to try. As much as we all like to say "I never go to class, dude," most of us do and most of us feel guilty when we skip. Therefore, I urge you to attend at least %60 of your classes. Going to all of them is out of the question - after all, that Frisbee isn't going to throw itself - but attending roughly six out of every ten classes will leave you with the perfect mix of guilt and free time. Try to do your papers but if you miss one or two don't sweat it; Mom and Dad paid for four years, they'll spring for an extra semester if they have to. But, most importantly, try your best to enjoy this stressful, terrible period of time. You don't want to be on your deathbed thinking, "God, those last few weeks of college were certainly stressful." You want to think, "I can't remember a damn thing I did then." That's how you know you had fun. Find that divine mix of pleasure and pain, hard work and hard booze and enjoy it. After all, summer is right around the corner and you don't want to have to lie to your high school friends about some hottie you hooked up with on the quad, do you? My friends, the stretch has begun.
1. The Columbia University based Prangstgrup has an amazing follow-up to their Library Musical prank called Lecture Musical that they just released. It's great, so don't miss it.
2. We did an interview with Judah Friedlander (American Splendor, Meet the Parents, Dave Matthews video...) so check that out here. It's pretty funny.
3. Hotlinks?
Just coming off spring break is hard enough for most of us. We had a week of booze-soaked revelry, playing in the waves and letting our pale skin blister in the sun. Returning to your dorm, your classes, your school's no-girls-after-11PM policy is just plain depressing. "Why" you think, "am I sitting here playing Snood when just two days ago I was doing body shots off a Hawaiian Tropic model in my underwear?" reality has a rude way of slapping you in the ass and coming home from spring break is no exception. But it gets worse.
The weather outside begins to warm up. Winter melts into spring and fat kids across the country cry as they put their beloved sweat pants and hoodies away for more revealing clothes. One would think that with this warm weather everything would be fantastic but it is not so. Your professors tried to take it easy on you all semester and only now are they realizing just how much work is left to be done. They will load you up with papers, quizzes and presentations thus creating the student's ultimate challenge - go to class when the weather is nice? No one likes to learn to begin with but it's even worse when everyone else is tossing Frisbees around outside. Man, do we love Frisbees. On top of this terrible weather/class paradox, the student is also assaulted with the reality school is ending soon and they will have to move back home. Mom and Dad are good for many things like money, free laundry and money, but the impending dread of spending another summer with a curfew and chores is more than many of us can take. Not to mention that in nine out of ten cases your town is a boring, lifeless pit that you swore you would get away from. The bars suck, your old friends don't really "get" your new "identity" and your little brother is at that age when he's "discovering his body" in your old room.
However there is a way to survive the stretch. Just like buying a hooker, it's all about time management. I know thinking is difficult but I urge you to try. As much as we all like to say "I never go to class, dude," most of us do and most of us feel guilty when we skip. Therefore, I urge you to attend at least %60 of your classes. Going to all of them is out of the question - after all, that Frisbee isn't going to throw itself - but attending roughly six out of every ten classes will leave you with the perfect mix of guilt and free time. Try to do your papers but if you miss one or two don't sweat it; Mom and Dad paid for four years, they'll spring for an extra semester if they have to. But, most importantly, try your best to enjoy this stressful, terrible period of time. You don't want to be on your deathbed thinking, "God, those last few weeks of college were certainly stressful." You want to think, "I can't remember a damn thing I did then." That's how you know you had fun. Find that divine mix of pleasure and pain, hard work and hard booze and enjoy it. After all, summer is right around the corner and you don't want to have to lie to your high school friends about some hottie you hooked up with on the quad, do you? My friends, the stretch has begun.
1. The Columbia University based Prangstgrup has an amazing follow-up to their Library Musical prank called Lecture Musical that they just released. It's great, so don't miss it.
2. We did an interview with Judah Friedlander (American Splendor, Meet the Parents, Dave Matthews video...) so check that out here. It's pretty funny.
3. Hotlinks?
FacebookInterview with Judah Friedlander
Judah Friedlander is the kind of guy who seems to pop up everywhere. You see him on the television, at the movies or in a magazine and say, "Hey, it's that guy with the hat again." You may have seen him in "Meet the Parents" ("you could get a whole bunch of Mumms"), American Splendor, Wet Hot American Summer, Maxim Magazine, VH1's Best Week Ever, comedy central, NBC, a Dave Matthews Band video or, in my case, a comedy club. You may not know his name, but you definitely know his face, his look. How can you help it? He's a hard guy to forget.
His appearance is by all accounts extremely personal. He is most often seen wearing a trucker hat reading "World Champion,' sporting shaggy hair and untamed sideburns. In the greater mix of New York City he could pass for any number of strange people you see on the street. However, not everyone in New York has been in seventeen movies and thirty-nine TV shows. While some comedians find their humor in subtle word play or clever observations, Friedlander finds his in gross exaggeration; a fact that was not lost during our interview. And when you get him going, it's hard to slow him down.
Streeter Seidell: Ashton Kutcher gets a lot of credit for starting the trucker hat craze, does that bother you?
Judah Friedlander: Look, you can't blame Ashton for wanting to be like me. I mean, what else does the guy have? You gotta give him something, right?
SS: One of your hats says "World Champion,' could you tell me what you're world champion of?
JF: You know, the world. You name it, I've done it. I'm world champion, I get tons of chicks. That's what happens when you're world champion.
SS: Could you tell me about some of your accomplishments in sports.
JF: In baseball I broke the homerun record. I was playing for the Mets - I played with them for about a week then quit because they sucked - I hit the ball all the way into the upper deck of Yankee stadium. It was the first inter-borough, inter-stadium homerun ever. The umpire didn't know what to do so he just let the whole team run around the bases. The pitcher shot himself in the face"then I fucked his wife on home plate. They gave me the homerun record trophy but I'm not big into trophies so I gave it to a retarded kid in the front row"then I fucked his mom too.
SS: I hear you're pretty good at martial arts too.
JF: Pretty good?
SS: Did I get some bad information?
JF: I'm fucking incredible"I used to be a ninja. You don't know this shit? C'mon man, do your research.
SS: Since you're so good with the ladies, can you give our readers any advice?
JF: Ya know, people ask me that and it's frustrating because it just happens naturally. When you're the world champ it just happens.
SS: Should men try to model themselves on you?
JF: Oh definitely, I look to myself as a role model, so why not? Just don't be a nerd and, if the girls aren't putting out, forget them. It's never happened to me but if she's not feeling it there's definitely something wrong with her. I've actually got a couple chicks coming over soon so could we hurry this up?
SS: Sure.
JF: Great.
I got the distinct feeling that Judah wasn't answering all of my questions truthfully. I mean, the inter-stadium homerun I can believe, but a ninja? My suspicions were confirmed when he asked me, mid-story, "Do you want any serious answers?" I hadn't thought about it but it seemed like a good idea. Slowly his answers turned into half truths then, finally, just plain truth"well, kind of.
SS: Is The Dave Matthews Band as cool as all their fans like to think they are?
JF: They're really not. I was hanging out with them one night when we were filming that video and we went to some bar. They couldn't get any chicks. It was all me. I was throwing them extras. It was sad.
SS: What's up with you and Ben Stiller? You've been in four movies with him.
JF: I was just going to talk about that. I'm really sick of Ben Stiller being in all of my movies. It's like every time I do a movie this guy shows up. He has no idea what he's doing. I've given him a break, ya know, I've let him be in four of my movies and he hasn't done anything for me.
SS: When you were cast in "Curb Your Enthusiasm" playing a retarded guy, did you take that as an insult or a compliment?
JF: I took it as a compliment because retarded people are funny. Two of the guys were really retarded though. I was on there for two days and they don't have a script. I went to the director and he's like, "I'm nervous about tomorrow.' So I ask why and he goes, "Well, tomorrow we're going to have real retarded guys in the scene.' I had no idea. The retarded guys were really nice but, ya know, they were retarded. They didn't know what was going on. I thought they were gonna think I was an asshole for, like, acting retarded but acting normal when they cut. They actually didn't get that I was going in and out of character. They didn't even notice so it was all cool.
SS: When you did "American Splendor" was it strange to all of a sudden be considered an actor as opposed to a comedic actor?
JF: It weird because a lot of them still don't take me seriously because I'll just show up in jeans to an awards show or something. They're kind of like, "Ew, what are you doing here.' But then they realize that I'm the guy from "American Splendor" and they start talking all nice to me.
For his work playing the ultra-nerd Toby in "American Splendor," Judah was named one of the best performers of 2003 by The New York Times Magazine and was one of USA Today's picks for best supporting actor. But, with so many of his accomplishments, Judah shrugs this off with a modest, "that was cool." I suppose that that best sums up Friedlander as a person; a guy who knows he has done very well but would rather exaggerate it beyond belief, even mock it than brag about it. With six movies coming soon, recurring role on Best Week Ever and an intensive standup schedule, Judah Friedlander could brag all he wants to. But, chances are he'll just want to talk about the time he scored a penalty kick in a soccer game"with his head.
Check out Judah's website, judahfriedlander.com for all his standup and movie information. Also, you can catch him on "Project Greenlight" and "Best Week Ever." And, if that's not enough for you, see Judah flex his acting skills in "The Darwin Awards," "Southern Belles" and "Duane Hopwood," all due out soon.
His appearance is by all accounts extremely personal. He is most often seen wearing a trucker hat reading "World Champion,' sporting shaggy hair and untamed sideburns. In the greater mix of New York City he could pass for any number of strange people you see on the street. However, not everyone in New York has been in seventeen movies and thirty-nine TV shows. While some comedians find their humor in subtle word play or clever observations, Friedlander finds his in gross exaggeration; a fact that was not lost during our interview. And when you get him going, it's hard to slow him down.
Streeter Seidell: Ashton Kutcher gets a lot of credit for starting the trucker hat craze, does that bother you?
Judah Friedlander: Look, you can't blame Ashton for wanting to be like me. I mean, what else does the guy have? You gotta give him something, right?
SS: One of your hats says "World Champion,' could you tell me what you're world champion of?
JF: You know, the world. You name it, I've done it. I'm world champion, I get tons of chicks. That's what happens when you're world champion.
SS: Could you tell me about some of your accomplishments in sports.
JF: In baseball I broke the homerun record. I was playing for the Mets - I played with them for about a week then quit because they sucked - I hit the ball all the way into the upper deck of Yankee stadium. It was the first inter-borough, inter-stadium homerun ever. The umpire didn't know what to do so he just let the whole team run around the bases. The pitcher shot himself in the face"then I fucked his wife on home plate. They gave me the homerun record trophy but I'm not big into trophies so I gave it to a retarded kid in the front row"then I fucked his mom too.
SS: I hear you're pretty good at martial arts too.
JF: Pretty good?
SS: Did I get some bad information?
JF: I'm fucking incredible"I used to be a ninja. You don't know this shit? C'mon man, do your research.
SS: Since you're so good with the ladies, can you give our readers any advice?
JF: Ya know, people ask me that and it's frustrating because it just happens naturally. When you're the world champ it just happens.
SS: Should men try to model themselves on you?
JF: Oh definitely, I look to myself as a role model, so why not? Just don't be a nerd and, if the girls aren't putting out, forget them. It's never happened to me but if she's not feeling it there's definitely something wrong with her. I've actually got a couple chicks coming over soon so could we hurry this up?
SS: Sure.
JF: Great.
I got the distinct feeling that Judah wasn't answering all of my questions truthfully. I mean, the inter-stadium homerun I can believe, but a ninja? My suspicions were confirmed when he asked me, mid-story, "Do you want any serious answers?" I hadn't thought about it but it seemed like a good idea. Slowly his answers turned into half truths then, finally, just plain truth"well, kind of.
SS: Is The Dave Matthews Band as cool as all their fans like to think they are?
JF: They're really not. I was hanging out with them one night when we were filming that video and we went to some bar. They couldn't get any chicks. It was all me. I was throwing them extras. It was sad.
SS: What's up with you and Ben Stiller? You've been in four movies with him.
JF: I was just going to talk about that. I'm really sick of Ben Stiller being in all of my movies. It's like every time I do a movie this guy shows up. He has no idea what he's doing. I've given him a break, ya know, I've let him be in four of my movies and he hasn't done anything for me.
SS: When you were cast in "Curb Your Enthusiasm" playing a retarded guy, did you take that as an insult or a compliment?
JF: I took it as a compliment because retarded people are funny. Two of the guys were really retarded though. I was on there for two days and they don't have a script. I went to the director and he's like, "I'm nervous about tomorrow.' So I ask why and he goes, "Well, tomorrow we're going to have real retarded guys in the scene.' I had no idea. The retarded guys were really nice but, ya know, they were retarded. They didn't know what was going on. I thought they were gonna think I was an asshole for, like, acting retarded but acting normal when they cut. They actually didn't get that I was going in and out of character. They didn't even notice so it was all cool.
SS: When you did "American Splendor" was it strange to all of a sudden be considered an actor as opposed to a comedic actor?
JF: It weird because a lot of them still don't take me seriously because I'll just show up in jeans to an awards show or something. They're kind of like, "Ew, what are you doing here.' But then they realize that I'm the guy from "American Splendor" and they start talking all nice to me.
For his work playing the ultra-nerd Toby in "American Splendor," Judah was named one of the best performers of 2003 by The New York Times Magazine and was one of USA Today's picks for best supporting actor. But, with so many of his accomplishments, Judah shrugs this off with a modest, "that was cool." I suppose that that best sums up Friedlander as a person; a guy who knows he has done very well but would rather exaggerate it beyond belief, even mock it than brag about it. With six movies coming soon, recurring role on Best Week Ever and an intensive standup schedule, Judah Friedlander could brag all he wants to. But, chances are he'll just want to talk about the time he scored a penalty kick in a soccer game"with his head.
Check out Judah's website, judahfriedlander.com for all his standup and movie information. Also, you can catch him on "Project Greenlight" and "Best Week Ever." And, if that's not enough for you, see Judah flex his acting skills in "The Darwin Awards," "Southern Belles" and "Duane Hopwood," all due out soon.
People You Hate XXIX
Hello everyone, welcome back to the Famous Hate List. If there is one thing that binds the entire world together, it is the rampant hate that runs through our blood and I am glad to help you let it out. Without further ado, here it is: the twenty-ninth edition of the Famous Hate List.
*Remember, you to can be in the hate list. Just email streeter@streeterseidell.com BUT, next issue will be the 30th and I want to do something special. So, instead of the run of the mill hate list, send me submissions on Inanimate Objects You Hate (like cell phones, pencils or Anna Nicole Smith) Include your first name, last initial and school. Check out streeterseidell.com for entries as they come in.
MINE:
Freddy Food Finger: You know, I really enjoy eating. I've been doing it for years and I think I'm pretty good at it. In fact, I consider eating one of my top three things to do to stay alive. There is little that can stop me from eating, but Freddy Food Finger has figured out a way, the dirty bastard. Freddy, it seems, is a tactile sort of fellow. Not merely content to smell or see my food, he feels it necessary to poke his fat, dirty finger into it. "What the fuck?" I ask him. "Dude, chill out. I just wanted a little taste." Ok, but how about asking, you fat motherfucker. If I find your girlfriend attractive and want "just a little taste," I'll give her a hug, not stick my filthy finger in her; try applying that technique. Freddy, you make bile rise in my throat when I see your dirt-caked nail dive into my pasta. I hope one day your wandering digits will find their way to the trigger of a gun and you can get a taste of that, you fat piece of shit. I Hate You!
Stupid Sarah: I understand that as humans we all have different levels of intelligence. I don't look down on stupid people for being stupid, but I do look down on smart people who pretend they're stupid. Take Sarah for instance: she had good SAT scores, goes to a good school and gets good grades. Yet, for some reason, Sarah can't seem to do anything right. You see Sarah has taken a page from the Jessica Simpson school of social interaction: If you want boys to like you, act dumb and look good! Mrs. Lachay, you are wrong in this case. There is nothing more annoying than a smart girl acting dumb to look "cute." It's not funny, it's not charming and it's not sexy. I don't believe for a second that you don't know how to change the channel on your TV or turn on your microwave, so stop acting like a clueless child in need of help. Why don't you grow the hell up and stop asking me if I "could help out with this bag of popcorn." Acting like a ditzy retard is not going to get you laid, but it may get you slapped, you stupid/smart bitch"I Hate You!
YOURS:
Reader George C B. of U. of Melbourne really hates: social security indigenous dude X. Though maybe this may refer to many people, get this, I don't fucken care! Hah! You lazy prick, just lying in the gutter, claiming your free social security payments, and holding a goddamn sign asking for money isn't actively seeking work, you lazy shit! And your goddamn people take up precious tertiary education places that the government kindly holds on for you, so why don't you just quit fucking around and do something already? Those seats are empty! I'm also tired of listening to your white man stories about how they totally kicked your ancestors' asses; you got a shitty backward looking culture anyway. Isn't it enough that the knowledge of the history of your pitiful race and how it was so easily crushed is embedded into the national high school syllabi? Go kill yourselves; I fucken Hate You!!
Reader BJ from Washington U. really hates: people who pop collars on their cheap polo shirts (Abercrombie was cool in high school). In the real world, people who wear Abercrombie to be cool are considered fashion Nazis. You are only allowed to pop your collar if you have a yacht, a plane, or a car that's worth 75k and more. If you do not posses any of the above commodities, and your polo shirt tag is below $100, please do not dare to pop a collar. An acceptable polo would be a Lacoste. Now if you can't afford it, then don't pop it. Otherwise, I hate you.
BJ also hates: people who think living in the ghetto is cool. Guess what, it's not, and I hate people who sag their pants. The whole culture of baggy, sagged pants originated in prison. If you sagged your pants it meant that you were fucked in the ass, or fucked somebody in the ass. I can't remember which one it was, but it was one of them. So if you are a fag then keep sagging your pants. I hate you
Reader Jason K. from Canada really hates: Poutine-eating-French-Quebecer-separatist-whores. Listen you little French fuckers, I've had just about enough of you coming up to me and telling me not to speak English because you "live in a French province." Newsflash you douche bags: have you ever thought that if by a miracle you separate from Canada, your shitty province will probably have to have dealings with the U.S. and the rest of Canada? Guess what, that means you're going to have to learn English! Cause the rest of Canada and the U.S. aren't going to start speaking French just to have business relations with your gay province. So I can't speak English here, eh? ...then how bout you stop wearing clothes with English logos or English phrases on them, how bout you stop quoting lyrics from your favorite English hip hop singer, how bout you stop copying American clothing styles... Do you realize every other word out of your mouth is English?? You fucking hypocritical cunts!!! If you hate English speaking people so much why don't you stop acting like one!?!?! And what about your so called "music station" MusiquePlus? So you're not original enough to come up with your own stuff you have to steal everything from MuchMusic?? I laugh at your sorry asses whenever I see your French version of MuchOnDemand with count them, oh wow, a whole 4 people in the audience. Wow that's amazing. And your fucktards of VJs are the most annoying, unoriginal and unfunny people I have ever seen in my life. Your province is so ass backwards, the music videos that stopped airing on MuchMusic 2 months ago are just finally coming out in Quebec. Go eat your poutine and leave us English speaking people alone, I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!
Reader Carlos V. of the US Marine Corps really hates: super-great ass/super-ugly face Susie. Oh Susie! You buttah-faced, wretched cum-dumpster. I could be walking or driving around and then there you are...with your ass, so tender and juicy beckoning me like a fat kid to the buffet line. The sight of your wondrous bum-bums makes me grow a tee-pee in my undies. And then it happens: you turn around. What a motherfucking ghastly sight. Your face makes me think that you were hit in the face with a bag of hot nickels or that maybe as a child someone threw bricks at you and you tried to catch them with your teeth. And there I am with my hog stiffer than Ossie Davis' corpse, feeling confused and frightened. I don't know whether to run you over or put my kak in the cigarette lighter. You need to either a) eat 10 lbs. of gravy fires each day so that ass goes to hell and matches your face or b) cut your fucking head off, you horse-mugged enigma. You will haunt my dreams, and for that I will always hate you. I Hate You!
Reader Rajjiv K. from MMU (in Malaysia) really hates: Emo Eddie. I'm sure everyone knows an emo kid. These are the ones who listen to some pussy ass, whiny punk bands on MTV, which are supposed to be ''emotional,'' (thus the term emo), jus cos they sing about losing girlfriends, getting beat up in school and fucked up parents. That's not emotional, that's life, motherfucker! Grow up! Just because the music is pathetic, that doesn't mean you gotta go around moping and whining and trying to get everyone's attention by being dark and gloomy. Bullshit. The more you put up that act, the funnier it gets. But sometimes it ain't funny...cos when you start hanging around with your emo gang and strumming 3 chords of your fucked up, talentless emo song...that really pisses me off. And these guys don't think they're mainstream...haha...I just crapped myself laughing...Jesus Christ, your as mainstream as Britney and Ashlee whatshername. Listen to some real music like Iced Earth or Sabbath, for crying out loud"gawd"I hate you.
Rajjiv also hates: Mr. Black Wannabe. You know what"I'm from Malaysia...and even here we have some jackasses trying to be black. Ok I don't mind the hip hop clothes, the bling bling and the braided hair. But you'd better be shittin me when u say "yo wassup"howz it hangin....later aight"" with all them fucked up hand gestures you saw on MTV. For fucks sake, this isn't Harlem...or anywhere even near the USA. Nobody talks like Nelly or Jay-Z here! Please try to be yourself...I can't take this shit no more...I hate you asshole.
Reader PJ at USMC really hates: Working (not so) hard Willy. How on earth can you complain about your job? You work 40 hours (at the most) at a brain dead job bussing tables, bagging groceries or selling giant black dildos to your faggot friends. You complain about going to 'early' classes at 8 AM, which you on a daily basis anyway. You think that these two combined make you the most overworked and stressed out man alive! Remember me? I graduated high school with you, hell we are almost the same age, and you are legally a man, but still a whiny little bitch. Three months ago, I worked 15 hours a day, 7 days a week for two months straight. That's not all: in the three months since then, I haven't had a full weekend yet! I'm still working about 10-12 hours a day and then some more on weekends. Don't you dare start with me on 'overworked,' you don't see me or any of the other guys I work with bitching about our jobs. Just wait until you leave that paradise you are living in right now for the real work force. Until then, take another 10 minute break behind that pathetically lax restaurant you work in and fuck yourself with that dildo, but don't forget to double wrap it with grocery bags you 'working' bitch. I hate you. So very, very much.
Reader Karen from England really hates: chavs (pronounced: shaavs). They are mostly teenage white (I'm not trying to be racist) suburban girls who try to act like they are from the ghetto. They wear big, chunky gold ear rings that are obviously fake and loads of big, medallion type necklaces. Their makeup is about 2 inches thick and most of them have black boyfriends who they are with only to get some black street cred. They are mostly caught in shopping centres and high streets having casual sex and smoking, bearing in mind that most of them are only about twelve. If you ever come to England, you can recognize them by their fake Dior, Gucci, Chanel and Yves Saint Loren jewelry and clothes. This type of people really irritate me and cause problems for England as some of them end up on drugs or getting pregnant at the tender age of thirteen. I really hate them and they annoy the crap out of me, so to you chavs out there: Geta fucking life!
Reader Linda S. from New Orleans really hates: guys who push a girl's head down. Nothing makes me want to give a blow job less. Also, it's usually these very same guys who never ever go down on girls. Next time a guy does this to me I think I'll "accidentally" bite something.
Reader Brian A. of Salisbury U. really hates: Ashlee Simpson. You're not famous, it's just your sister, bitch. No one in their right mind would ever be a fan of yours. You're not as attractive as Jessica and you can't sing. You already proved that at the Orange Bowl and at SNL!! MTV gave you a show because you're a joke, just like Ozzy and the faggy kids of the Real World!!! You suck; you have proven you suck, so get THE FUCK out of my TV before I am forced to SUE YOU FOR DAMAGES. Oh yea, and stop flashing your asscrack for the camera!! They just blur it out anyway, and no one wants to see it BECAUSE I FUCKING HATE YOU! Die.
Reader Marissa D. of Florida really hates: what we in Florida like to call the "boca bitches"- those stupid preppy girls (or guys even) who come up from south Florida (west palm and down) with nothing but closets of clothes, pockets of money and their mouths full of criticism for everyone else. Who CARES that you paid $90 for a shirt? I look a million times better than you and I can get 5 shirts for that price! Just because your mom's been married more times than you can count and you're living off alimony, doesn't make you smarter/better/hotter/ANYTHING. In fact it makes you nothing but a stupid, spoiled BITCH! I hate you!
Reader Samantha G. really hates: my hill billy neighbor. I just moved into my new apartment 2 weeks ago. It is a nice place. But Jethrow next door ruins it all. He likes to blast rap music out of his shitty stereo all the time. I am glad I have surround sound to block his shitty music out. He doesn't even like good rap. He likes that poopy Nelly crap. Second, he didn't know what a rap battle was till he saw the movie "Eight Mile." Now he is a rapper. Every time I see him he is making rhythm to himself. Third, his butt buddies come over all the time. They also are just as annoying. They gather like geese at my front and back doors and smoke. They aren't quiet either. They are always in a group laughing and rapping. I took a nap today and they woke me up with their intolerable rapping. It isn't even good rap, either. It is about going to the store to get a 40, when a booty hoe says "what you know, you got dough." (I swear I heard him say this too!) I find his rapping very racist. If I were black, I would have to beat him and his family up. Mostly his parents for reproducing such a piece of trash. I believe he should be beating himself up, because he is a hilly billy who likes rap music. I mean isn't that a contradiction. A guy I work with told me my place is nice. He said it was in a wealthy neighborhood. He is a nice black guy. I will tell him about Jethrow tomorrow. Maybe we can scare the black out of him. Or maybe he will eat bleach and then die in a fire. We can only wish for all of the above.
Reader P. Dunn, incoming frosh at U. of South Carolina really hates: Tommy the Talker: This is that one asshole in every class who is always having his own little personal conversation while someone else is giving a presentation, reading out loud, or supposed to be garnering some sort of attention from the class. It always seems like this person has to be sitting right in front of me too. I can't even focus on the topic because I'm listening to some guy trying to mack it on some girl by making fun of the character's names in Macbeth. C'mon. Show some respect and shut the fuck up. O yeah, I hate you!
Reader Helen T. from England really hates: always had a easy life girl - you know her? Life's always been an easy dream for her. First she was blessed in the looks department: never a hair out of place, her dye job so good you didn't even know it was fake, and she's not gained a pound for the last ten years. School was easy despite the fact she never listened or seemed do work she was an A+ student .Everyone loves her even though she's really a complete bitch. She's had a string of fabulous boyfriends since the age 13! She's got the very best part time job, which pays a100 times more than anyone else's. She passed her driving test two days after she was legally allowed to and she's not even 20 with a fiancé and stupidly high paid job! HATE HER!
READER ON READER HATE:
Howdy From AK really hates: BJ From Washington University. You claim to be a Republican, yet can't spell the word? You are going to be an investment banker? What the shittroll is that? If you are so anti-hippie, why in George W. Bush's name do you spell like one? People like BJ give bad names to good people. Having money has nothing to do with it; this cockdonkey gives all hippies the right to throw their Burkenstock's at him. World Trade IS good... but the Japanese don't trade with illiterate fags.....SO LIKE THE NBA SAYS..... READING IS funDAMENTAL....Stay in school and never come out...you redneck hack... I HATE YOU
Reader Mike from Canada really hates: Adam L. at Case Western Reserve University. You know, I'm sorry. I take it back. Adam, or Titlips, is absolutely right. I want to pay for healthcare. What...fuck no, have it paid for by increasing the tax by an amount that makes absolutely no difference in my day to day life, FUCK THAT. I would rather pay for shit as it happens. It just makes sense really. That way, instead of having a system where, if I get in a car accident or break my leg, you can go to the hospital and be treated at no cost, I instead get to buy that Mr. Big or maybe splurge and buy King Size Mr. Big. You know, it's people like you who should be tied to a thorny tree, stripped down, and be repeatedly violated by hungry, pissed off Zebras. Or maybe be forced to put your dick in a cage with a beaten badger, like in "The Salton Sea" (fucking good movie). Point is, if you deny healthcare, you might as well cancel your car insurance. Fuck, it's not like you need to pay those sometimes ridiculous monthly payments. Just pay the guy from that savings account that you've been saving for just such an occasion. Ummm" What do you mea... oh, you don't have an account with $500,000 in it. Well, why not dumbass? And what the fuck is he talking about "trust fund republican" single income 60K cock-in-mouth bullshit. My parents made when I was a kid a combined income of maybe 30K.... Canadian, so don't tell me or anyone else whose families are struggling to pay the bills that your cock-stroking, ass-feltching, dog-petting, sister-sucking ingrown penis thinks that healthcare is the work of communism. I hope that you get wrongfully accused of a horrible crime, are sent to prison for 20 years, gang-raped and forced to deep throat men and horses on a daily basis, only to attempt suicide once they set you free by jumping off a tall building, but when you hit the ground it doesn't kill you and the paramedics save your life. Now, you're paralyzed from the eyes down and are forced to live in a world of pain because there's a gerbil in your ass clawing and scratching away your rectum. Adam L., I hate you.
Mike also hates: David G. from Texas and all the fucks he represents. What Streeter has done has no doubt saved countless dozens of people from going out and raping the neighbour's dog to relieve the anger that builds up in our day to day lives. To have someone complain about the work that is being done for all of man is sacrilegious. I mean, who the fuck does this guy think he is? Do you know there's an "I Hate Starbucks" website where people go on and complain about how much they hate Starbucks? Here's an idea. Don't fucking go there! Or in the case of David, or as I like to call him, Cunt, don't fucking read it. Who is forcing it on you? Huh, oh that's right. NO ONE. I complain about shit all the time but it's mostly crap I can't help. But not Cunt. I bet Cunt is the kind of guy who goes to Starbucks and orders a tall, non-fat, extra hot, macciato (fuck spelling) with whip cream for here, waits for it, then just because he sucked too much of his father's dick last night, decides he wants it to go. Now of course the "barista"(fuck) would no doubt be annoyed, and Cunt would probably pick up on that, being the bag of tits that he is. Next thing ya know he's on the website writing things that Cunt's will write. Now Cunt may come back at me by saying," Ya, well I can fit my Dad's whole dick in my ass. Ha, oh and you're a fucking loser for taking the time to write this. Oh yeah.... Dad... balls deep!" Well Cunt, thing is I'm at work right now. I don't have anything to do. I get paid, in a sense, to write these things. I don't sit at home jerking off to naked dad pictures and then take the time to complain about shit. I jerk off to lesbians. Sometimes three lesbians with strap-ons, and they fuck the living shit out of... anyway, point is, Cunt needs to try to deep throat his father and in the process choke and die on his dick...while his mom shits on his head. David G. from Texas, I hate you!
(Author's Note: That was weird)
Reader BJ from Washington U. really hates: Howdi from ACK (howdy from AK) and Ashli M- guess what bitches i dotn need to spell right, and I dont want to, in fact im typin in my email java box, and im not even gonna bother rereading what i wrote, and why shoud i bother clickking on the splellchecker. In fact why dont you do it for me if it bugs you so much? I might even condsier paying for that. I hate you!!! By the way GBUsh cant spell or speak, and look where he ended up. It means money is everything you moron!!
Reader Josh the angry Englishman really hates: BJ from Washington University. I wrote out an entire email to him personally when I read your website, then another one when you posted his email here, but deleted them both when I realized there really is no point. There is nothing I could say that would make any difference - you're too stupid to listen and everyone who has read your email already knows it. I'm afraid I have wasted too much of my time thinking about this already. BJ, for someone who wrote so much, you say very little; get a grip, lighten up and go kill some more sheep... ooh, big man, betcha the ladies just cream when you sidle up to them in bars and regale them with your tales of eating horse meat. Hippies annoy everyone, like spots, children and people that waste my time by taking up space on an otherwise usually funny column. Fuck off and find someone who cares.
Finally, Reader Synthia M. really hates: ALL PEOPLE from Malaysia because of Rajjiv, you pathetic idiot. You're the one who's whining, you dirty bitch. "I'm sure everyone knows an emo kid," wha wha whaaa! Half the kids that you think are emo are in actuality just confused faggots who don't have any taste at all and they think "hey, I can cry at night, I'll join them." NO! There's more to it. We go to shows and make good grades and are nice and sympathetic to other people's fucked up problems. But you wouldn't know about that would you? Because you live in MALAYSIA... OOO where it's soo nice nothing will ever harm you. hey Rajjiv, fuck u.
That's all the hate for now. Join us next time for our special 30th edition, INANIMATE OBJECTS YOU HATE And remember, send me your hate at streeter@streeterseidell.com and let the world know you're an asshole. Just make it about an inanimate object please and include your first name, last initial and school. Check out streeterseidell.com for entries as they come in. For the Famous Hate List, I'm Streeter Seidell saying Goodnight, goodnight.
*Remember, you to can be in the hate list. Just email streeter@streeterseidell.com BUT, next issue will be the 30th and I want to do something special. So, instead of the run of the mill hate list, send me submissions on Inanimate Objects You Hate (like cell phones, pencils or Anna Nicole Smith) Include your first name, last initial and school. Check out streeterseidell.com for entries as they come in.
MINE:
Freddy Food Finger: You know, I really enjoy eating. I've been doing it for years and I think I'm pretty good at it. In fact, I consider eating one of my top three things to do to stay alive. There is little that can stop me from eating, but Freddy Food Finger has figured out a way, the dirty bastard. Freddy, it seems, is a tactile sort of fellow. Not merely content to smell or see my food, he feels it necessary to poke his fat, dirty finger into it. "What the fuck?" I ask him. "Dude, chill out. I just wanted a little taste." Ok, but how about asking, you fat motherfucker. If I find your girlfriend attractive and want "just a little taste," I'll give her a hug, not stick my filthy finger in her; try applying that technique. Freddy, you make bile rise in my throat when I see your dirt-caked nail dive into my pasta. I hope one day your wandering digits will find their way to the trigger of a gun and you can get a taste of that, you fat piece of shit. I Hate You!
Stupid Sarah: I understand that as humans we all have different levels of intelligence. I don't look down on stupid people for being stupid, but I do look down on smart people who pretend they're stupid. Take Sarah for instance: she had good SAT scores, goes to a good school and gets good grades. Yet, for some reason, Sarah can't seem to do anything right. You see Sarah has taken a page from the Jessica Simpson school of social interaction: If you want boys to like you, act dumb and look good! Mrs. Lachay, you are wrong in this case. There is nothing more annoying than a smart girl acting dumb to look "cute." It's not funny, it's not charming and it's not sexy. I don't believe for a second that you don't know how to change the channel on your TV or turn on your microwave, so stop acting like a clueless child in need of help. Why don't you grow the hell up and stop asking me if I "could help out with this bag of popcorn." Acting like a ditzy retard is not going to get you laid, but it may get you slapped, you stupid/smart bitch"I Hate You!
YOURS:
Reader George C B. of U. of Melbourne really hates: social security indigenous dude X. Though maybe this may refer to many people, get this, I don't fucken care! Hah! You lazy prick, just lying in the gutter, claiming your free social security payments, and holding a goddamn sign asking for money isn't actively seeking work, you lazy shit! And your goddamn people take up precious tertiary education places that the government kindly holds on for you, so why don't you just quit fucking around and do something already? Those seats are empty! I'm also tired of listening to your white man stories about how they totally kicked your ancestors' asses; you got a shitty backward looking culture anyway. Isn't it enough that the knowledge of the history of your pitiful race and how it was so easily crushed is embedded into the national high school syllabi? Go kill yourselves; I fucken Hate You!!
Reader BJ from Washington U. really hates: people who pop collars on their cheap polo shirts (Abercrombie was cool in high school). In the real world, people who wear Abercrombie to be cool are considered fashion Nazis. You are only allowed to pop your collar if you have a yacht, a plane, or a car that's worth 75k and more. If you do not posses any of the above commodities, and your polo shirt tag is below $100, please do not dare to pop a collar. An acceptable polo would be a Lacoste. Now if you can't afford it, then don't pop it. Otherwise, I hate you.
BJ also hates: people who think living in the ghetto is cool. Guess what, it's not, and I hate people who sag their pants. The whole culture of baggy, sagged pants originated in prison. If you sagged your pants it meant that you were fucked in the ass, or fucked somebody in the ass. I can't remember which one it was, but it was one of them. So if you are a fag then keep sagging your pants. I hate you
Reader Jason K. from Canada really hates: Poutine-eating-French-Quebecer-separatist-whores. Listen you little French fuckers, I've had just about enough of you coming up to me and telling me not to speak English because you "live in a French province." Newsflash you douche bags: have you ever thought that if by a miracle you separate from Canada, your shitty province will probably have to have dealings with the U.S. and the rest of Canada? Guess what, that means you're going to have to learn English! Cause the rest of Canada and the U.S. aren't going to start speaking French just to have business relations with your gay province. So I can't speak English here, eh? ...then how bout you stop wearing clothes with English logos or English phrases on them, how bout you stop quoting lyrics from your favorite English hip hop singer, how bout you stop copying American clothing styles... Do you realize every other word out of your mouth is English?? You fucking hypocritical cunts!!! If you hate English speaking people so much why don't you stop acting like one!?!?! And what about your so called "music station" MusiquePlus? So you're not original enough to come up with your own stuff you have to steal everything from MuchMusic?? I laugh at your sorry asses whenever I see your French version of MuchOnDemand with count them, oh wow, a whole 4 people in the audience. Wow that's amazing. And your fucktards of VJs are the most annoying, unoriginal and unfunny people I have ever seen in my life. Your province is so ass backwards, the music videos that stopped airing on MuchMusic 2 months ago are just finally coming out in Quebec. Go eat your poutine and leave us English speaking people alone, I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!
Reader Carlos V. of the US Marine Corps really hates: super-great ass/super-ugly face Susie. Oh Susie! You buttah-faced, wretched cum-dumpster. I could be walking or driving around and then there you are...with your ass, so tender and juicy beckoning me like a fat kid to the buffet line. The sight of your wondrous bum-bums makes me grow a tee-pee in my undies. And then it happens: you turn around. What a motherfucking ghastly sight. Your face makes me think that you were hit in the face with a bag of hot nickels or that maybe as a child someone threw bricks at you and you tried to catch them with your teeth. And there I am with my hog stiffer than Ossie Davis' corpse, feeling confused and frightened. I don't know whether to run you over or put my kak in the cigarette lighter. You need to either a) eat 10 lbs. of gravy fires each day so that ass goes to hell and matches your face or b) cut your fucking head off, you horse-mugged enigma. You will haunt my dreams, and for that I will always hate you. I Hate You!
Reader Rajjiv K. from MMU (in Malaysia) really hates: Emo Eddie. I'm sure everyone knows an emo kid. These are the ones who listen to some pussy ass, whiny punk bands on MTV, which are supposed to be ''emotional,'' (thus the term emo), jus cos they sing about losing girlfriends, getting beat up in school and fucked up parents. That's not emotional, that's life, motherfucker! Grow up! Just because the music is pathetic, that doesn't mean you gotta go around moping and whining and trying to get everyone's attention by being dark and gloomy. Bullshit. The more you put up that act, the funnier it gets. But sometimes it ain't funny...cos when you start hanging around with your emo gang and strumming 3 chords of your fucked up, talentless emo song...that really pisses me off. And these guys don't think they're mainstream...haha...I just crapped myself laughing...Jesus Christ, your as mainstream as Britney and Ashlee whatshername. Listen to some real music like Iced Earth or Sabbath, for crying out loud"gawd"I hate you.
Rajjiv also hates: Mr. Black Wannabe. You know what"I'm from Malaysia...and even here we have some jackasses trying to be black. Ok I don't mind the hip hop clothes, the bling bling and the braided hair. But you'd better be shittin me when u say "yo wassup"howz it hangin....later aight"" with all them fucked up hand gestures you saw on MTV. For fucks sake, this isn't Harlem...or anywhere even near the USA. Nobody talks like Nelly or Jay-Z here! Please try to be yourself...I can't take this shit no more...I hate you asshole.
Reader PJ at USMC really hates: Working (not so) hard Willy. How on earth can you complain about your job? You work 40 hours (at the most) at a brain dead job bussing tables, bagging groceries or selling giant black dildos to your faggot friends. You complain about going to 'early' classes at 8 AM, which you on a daily basis anyway. You think that these two combined make you the most overworked and stressed out man alive! Remember me? I graduated high school with you, hell we are almost the same age, and you are legally a man, but still a whiny little bitch. Three months ago, I worked 15 hours a day, 7 days a week for two months straight. That's not all: in the three months since then, I haven't had a full weekend yet! I'm still working about 10-12 hours a day and then some more on weekends. Don't you dare start with me on 'overworked,' you don't see me or any of the other guys I work with bitching about our jobs. Just wait until you leave that paradise you are living in right now for the real work force. Until then, take another 10 minute break behind that pathetically lax restaurant you work in and fuck yourself with that dildo, but don't forget to double wrap it with grocery bags you 'working' bitch. I hate you. So very, very much.
Reader Karen from England really hates: chavs (pronounced: shaavs). They are mostly teenage white (I'm not trying to be racist) suburban girls who try to act like they are from the ghetto. They wear big, chunky gold ear rings that are obviously fake and loads of big, medallion type necklaces. Their makeup is about 2 inches thick and most of them have black boyfriends who they are with only to get some black street cred. They are mostly caught in shopping centres and high streets having casual sex and smoking, bearing in mind that most of them are only about twelve. If you ever come to England, you can recognize them by their fake Dior, Gucci, Chanel and Yves Saint Loren jewelry and clothes. This type of people really irritate me and cause problems for England as some of them end up on drugs or getting pregnant at the tender age of thirteen. I really hate them and they annoy the crap out of me, so to you chavs out there: Geta fucking life!
Reader Linda S. from New Orleans really hates: guys who push a girl's head down. Nothing makes me want to give a blow job less. Also, it's usually these very same guys who never ever go down on girls. Next time a guy does this to me I think I'll "accidentally" bite something.
Reader Brian A. of Salisbury U. really hates: Ashlee Simpson. You're not famous, it's just your sister, bitch. No one in their right mind would ever be a fan of yours. You're not as attractive as Jessica and you can't sing. You already proved that at the Orange Bowl and at SNL!! MTV gave you a show because you're a joke, just like Ozzy and the faggy kids of the Real World!!! You suck; you have proven you suck, so get THE FUCK out of my TV before I am forced to SUE YOU FOR DAMAGES. Oh yea, and stop flashing your asscrack for the camera!! They just blur it out anyway, and no one wants to see it BECAUSE I FUCKING HATE YOU! Die.
Reader Marissa D. of Florida really hates: what we in Florida like to call the "boca bitches"- those stupid preppy girls (or guys even) who come up from south Florida (west palm and down) with nothing but closets of clothes, pockets of money and their mouths full of criticism for everyone else. Who CARES that you paid $90 for a shirt? I look a million times better than you and I can get 5 shirts for that price! Just because your mom's been married more times than you can count and you're living off alimony, doesn't make you smarter/better/hotter/ANYTHING. In fact it makes you nothing but a stupid, spoiled BITCH! I hate you!
Reader Samantha G. really hates: my hill billy neighbor. I just moved into my new apartment 2 weeks ago. It is a nice place. But Jethrow next door ruins it all. He likes to blast rap music out of his shitty stereo all the time. I am glad I have surround sound to block his shitty music out. He doesn't even like good rap. He likes that poopy Nelly crap. Second, he didn't know what a rap battle was till he saw the movie "Eight Mile." Now he is a rapper. Every time I see him he is making rhythm to himself. Third, his butt buddies come over all the time. They also are just as annoying. They gather like geese at my front and back doors and smoke. They aren't quiet either. They are always in a group laughing and rapping. I took a nap today and they woke me up with their intolerable rapping. It isn't even good rap, either. It is about going to the store to get a 40, when a booty hoe says "what you know, you got dough." (I swear I heard him say this too!) I find his rapping very racist. If I were black, I would have to beat him and his family up. Mostly his parents for reproducing such a piece of trash. I believe he should be beating himself up, because he is a hilly billy who likes rap music. I mean isn't that a contradiction. A guy I work with told me my place is nice. He said it was in a wealthy neighborhood. He is a nice black guy. I will tell him about Jethrow tomorrow. Maybe we can scare the black out of him. Or maybe he will eat bleach and then die in a fire. We can only wish for all of the above.
Reader P. Dunn, incoming frosh at U. of South Carolina really hates: Tommy the Talker: This is that one asshole in every class who is always having his own little personal conversation while someone else is giving a presentation, reading out loud, or supposed to be garnering some sort of attention from the class. It always seems like this person has to be sitting right in front of me too. I can't even focus on the topic because I'm listening to some guy trying to mack it on some girl by making fun of the character's names in Macbeth. C'mon. Show some respect and shut the fuck up. O yeah, I hate you!
Reader Helen T. from England really hates: always had a easy life girl - you know her? Life's always been an easy dream for her. First she was blessed in the looks department: never a hair out of place, her dye job so good you didn't even know it was fake, and she's not gained a pound for the last ten years. School was easy despite the fact she never listened or seemed do work she was an A+ student .Everyone loves her even though she's really a complete bitch. She's had a string of fabulous boyfriends since the age 13! She's got the very best part time job, which pays a100 times more than anyone else's. She passed her driving test two days after she was legally allowed to and she's not even 20 with a fiancé and stupidly high paid job! HATE HER!
READER ON READER HATE:
Howdy From AK really hates: BJ From Washington University. You claim to be a Republican, yet can't spell the word? You are going to be an investment banker? What the shittroll is that? If you are so anti-hippie, why in George W. Bush's name do you spell like one? People like BJ give bad names to good people. Having money has nothing to do with it; this cockdonkey gives all hippies the right to throw their Burkenstock's at him. World Trade IS good... but the Japanese don't trade with illiterate fags.....SO LIKE THE NBA SAYS..... READING IS funDAMENTAL....Stay in school and never come out...you redneck hack... I HATE YOU
Reader Mike from Canada really hates: Adam L. at Case Western Reserve University. You know, I'm sorry. I take it back. Adam, or Titlips, is absolutely right. I want to pay for healthcare. What...fuck no, have it paid for by increasing the tax by an amount that makes absolutely no difference in my day to day life, FUCK THAT. I would rather pay for shit as it happens. It just makes sense really. That way, instead of having a system where, if I get in a car accident or break my leg, you can go to the hospital and be treated at no cost, I instead get to buy that Mr. Big or maybe splurge and buy King Size Mr. Big. You know, it's people like you who should be tied to a thorny tree, stripped down, and be repeatedly violated by hungry, pissed off Zebras. Or maybe be forced to put your dick in a cage with a beaten badger, like in "The Salton Sea" (fucking good movie). Point is, if you deny healthcare, you might as well cancel your car insurance. Fuck, it's not like you need to pay those sometimes ridiculous monthly payments. Just pay the guy from that savings account that you've been saving for just such an occasion. Ummm" What do you mea... oh, you don't have an account with $500,000 in it. Well, why not dumbass? And what the fuck is he talking about "trust fund republican" single income 60K cock-in-mouth bullshit. My parents made when I was a kid a combined income of maybe 30K.... Canadian, so don't tell me or anyone else whose families are struggling to pay the bills that your cock-stroking, ass-feltching, dog-petting, sister-sucking ingrown penis thinks that healthcare is the work of communism. I hope that you get wrongfully accused of a horrible crime, are sent to prison for 20 years, gang-raped and forced to deep throat men and horses on a daily basis, only to attempt suicide once they set you free by jumping off a tall building, but when you hit the ground it doesn't kill you and the paramedics save your life. Now, you're paralyzed from the eyes down and are forced to live in a world of pain because there's a gerbil in your ass clawing and scratching away your rectum. Adam L., I hate you.
Mike also hates: David G. from Texas and all the fucks he represents. What Streeter has done has no doubt saved countless dozens of people from going out and raping the neighbour's dog to relieve the anger that builds up in our day to day lives. To have someone complain about the work that is being done for all of man is sacrilegious. I mean, who the fuck does this guy think he is? Do you know there's an "I Hate Starbucks" website where people go on and complain about how much they hate Starbucks? Here's an idea. Don't fucking go there! Or in the case of David, or as I like to call him, Cunt, don't fucking read it. Who is forcing it on you? Huh, oh that's right. NO ONE. I complain about shit all the time but it's mostly crap I can't help. But not Cunt. I bet Cunt is the kind of guy who goes to Starbucks and orders a tall, non-fat, extra hot, macciato (fuck spelling) with whip cream for here, waits for it, then just because he sucked too much of his father's dick last night, decides he wants it to go. Now of course the "barista"(fuck) would no doubt be annoyed, and Cunt would probably pick up on that, being the bag of tits that he is. Next thing ya know he's on the website writing things that Cunt's will write. Now Cunt may come back at me by saying," Ya, well I can fit my Dad's whole dick in my ass. Ha, oh and you're a fucking loser for taking the time to write this. Oh yeah.... Dad... balls deep!" Well Cunt, thing is I'm at work right now. I don't have anything to do. I get paid, in a sense, to write these things. I don't sit at home jerking off to naked dad pictures and then take the time to complain about shit. I jerk off to lesbians. Sometimes three lesbians with strap-ons, and they fuck the living shit out of... anyway, point is, Cunt needs to try to deep throat his father and in the process choke and die on his dick...while his mom shits on his head. David G. from Texas, I hate you!
(Author's Note: That was weird)
Reader BJ from Washington U. really hates: Howdi from ACK (howdy from AK) and Ashli M- guess what bitches i dotn need to spell right, and I dont want to, in fact im typin in my email java box, and im not even gonna bother rereading what i wrote, and why shoud i bother clickking on the splellchecker. In fact why dont you do it for me if it bugs you so much? I might even condsier paying for that. I hate you!!! By the way GBUsh cant spell or speak, and look where he ended up. It means money is everything you moron!!
Reader Josh the angry Englishman really hates: BJ from Washington University. I wrote out an entire email to him personally when I read your website, then another one when you posted his email here, but deleted them both when I realized there really is no point. There is nothing I could say that would make any difference - you're too stupid to listen and everyone who has read your email already knows it. I'm afraid I have wasted too much of my time thinking about this already. BJ, for someone who wrote so much, you say very little; get a grip, lighten up and go kill some more sheep... ooh, big man, betcha the ladies just cream when you sidle up to them in bars and regale them with your tales of eating horse meat. Hippies annoy everyone, like spots, children and people that waste my time by taking up space on an otherwise usually funny column. Fuck off and find someone who cares.
Finally, Reader Synthia M. really hates: ALL PEOPLE from Malaysia because of Rajjiv, you pathetic idiot. You're the one who's whining, you dirty bitch. "I'm sure everyone knows an emo kid," wha wha whaaa! Half the kids that you think are emo are in actuality just confused faggots who don't have any taste at all and they think "hey, I can cry at night, I'll join them." NO! There's more to it. We go to shows and make good grades and are nice and sympathetic to other people's fucked up problems. But you wouldn't know about that would you? Because you live in MALAYSIA... OOO where it's soo nice nothing will ever harm you. hey Rajjiv, fuck u.
That's all the hate for now. Join us next time for our special 30th edition, INANIMATE OBJECTS YOU HATE And remember, send me your hate at streeter@streeterseidell.com and let the world know you're an asshole. Just make it about an inanimate object please and include your first name, last initial and school. Check out streeterseidell.com for entries as they come in. For the Famous Hate List, I'm Streeter Seidell saying Goodnight, goodnight.
The Streety Awards IV: Winners
The Streety Awards IV: Winners
Here they are Ladies and Gentlemen: the winners of the third Streety Awards.
Most Over-Hyped Movie: While I could not get over the amount of you who had actually seen "Sideways," it still could not defeat the mighty media machine behind Zach Braff's "Garden State." This epic tale of a dude who hangs around his old town was painted as the next "Graduate," and Braff himself was, for once, taken seriously. Sadly though, most of you found that it did not live up to the hype and left you feeling a little like he does in the movie. Maybe I can explain: you went to the movie expecting to see some clever or tremendous piece of art and instead saw what it must be like to live in Jersey. How sad.
Celebrity Who Isn't As Hot As She Acts: We're all used to snotty little brats acting like the world owes them a favor. We're probably even more used to seeing girls who aren't attractive act as if they are. This angers us. If you're going to act like the cock of the walk, you better have the physical beauty to back it up. And while Britney, Paris and Camryn Manheim all act hotter than they are, the biggest delusional is, of course, Lindsay Lohan. It seems the Ms. Lohan hasn't looked in the mirror in a while because you voted her the winner for this category by almost 75%. I guess you guys don't like freckles.
Best Chewing Gum: Ah, it's been proven again: we're all suckers for a cute British accent. With Winterfresh and Dentyne Ice running a close 2nd and 3rd respectively, the Streety goes to Orbitz. I'm not sure if Orbitz is from England or not, but I do know that it has one of the best marketing campaigns out there. They have somehow convinced us to buy a gum touted as a British invention when we all know the British have teeth that would make a rabbit laugh. But on the other hand, it does give you that good, clean feeling"no maahtter whhhat.
Worst Way To Show Someone You Love Them: I thought carving someone's name into your arm was a bad idea. I thought composing poetry was even worse. And if you sacrifice a pet in someone's honor, you should probably be hospitalized. But all of you seem to think that the worst way to show someone you love them is to confess that "I think about you when I'm pleasing myself." As soon as the votes started coming (pun intended), the stories weren't far behind. "Dude," said one young man, "I said that to my girlfriend and she dumped me. The funny part is, it wasn't true at all!" Maybe it's best to keep your fantasies to yourself next time.
Worst Tattoo: Having two myself, I know a thing or two about the art of body inking. I also know that a barbed wire arm band is a horrible tattoo. But it's not as bad as a butterfly above the asscrack. You, however, found a "Spring Break 86" tattoo to be the absolute worst. I can understand; I've been on spring break and not only am I not proud of what I did there, I also don't want to commemorate it at all. Some notable write ins: "Chinese symbol of any kind, anywhere," "Your own name" and "Lyrics from a sad song."
Best Male Deodorant Spray: It seems that the days of Old Spice are coming to an end. Young men these days no longer want to smell like their grandfathers. Instead, when you reach for something to cover up the leaking odor from your hairy body, you turn to something edgy, something sexy"you turn to Axe. I own four scents myself and, while it hasn't got me laid, it has helped me think that I will. The way I see it, as long as you're wearing your Axe, something good will eventually happen to you. It's true, the commercial said so.
Worst Prescription Drug Side Effect: It looks like all of you are horny bastards because impotence won this category by a mile. I guess I could live with diarrhea, bloody stools and sweaty palms if I could still have my libido. However, wouldn't it be a little hard to use that libido when you're shitting blood and sweating through your gloves?
Worst "Trivial Pursuit" Edition: We've all played Trivial Pursuit at some point in time. Maybe some of you have even played a special edition such as "the 1960s" or "the Jeopardy edition." But none of you would want to play Trivial Pursuit, "The Carson Daly Edition" if it existed, that is. Some of you even wrote in to suggest possible questions: "Carson Daly dated this one time A-cup in the late nineties? Tara Reid." "Carson Daly stopped being cool in what year? 1981." I hope he doesn't read this.
Personal Accessory That Says, "I'm Better Than You.": Every now and then we feel like being better than everyone else. That's when we go out and acquire something that does the talking for us. Three years ago it was the iPod. If you saw someone fiddling around with the then-new gadget your heart would sink and a curtain of shame would descend upon your body, for you knew that this person was better than you could ever be. Nowadays we all have iPods. However, we don't all have a big, huge bag of cocaine, and that, it seems, says "I'm better than you." Someone wrote in to tell me that they had all four of the nominees but felt no better than me. All I can say to this is, I will trade you my computer for either a super-model girlfriend or a blackberry. Please, email me back.
Best Magazine That Almost Shows Nipple: And the winner is"Maxim! I was sad to see that FHM did not win, but I will doff my cap to Maxim nonetheless. You know, when I think back on the saddest times in my life, I will always remember this one instance. I was probably fifteen and I had obtained a copy of Maxim from one of my older friends. Now, keep in mind that I was a reasonably intelligent kid with a pretty firm grasp on physics and such. That being said, I somehow convinced myself that if I turned the page just right, I would be able to somehow see nipple. I sat and turned and tilted the page, knowing full well that this method would not work, for over an hour. It was the saddest day of my life.
Best Naturally Occurring Element: What a shocker, Hydrogen wins again! It seems this light, essential element has been taking home all the awards lately. Honestly, this category was more for the write-ins than for the nominees. I got some pretty serious ones from chem. students across the country. "IRON BITCH!" wrote one. "Magnesium is the shit dude, seriously," wrote another. Please, guys, life is not about the elements, it's about what happens when they get together; find something better to do with your time than studying the periodic table.
Rapper With The Worst Luck: While many rappers seem to be getting into trouble or having tragedy befall their families, none is worse off that our old friend Biggie Smalls. On top of being morbidly obese and having a lazy eye, he got shot to death. Biggie's life makes Kanye West's car accident look like a stubbed toe.
Best Passive Aggressive Way To Anger A Roommate: We all hate our roommates, but we never want to say anything about it. Instead, we practice passive aggressive behavior. My favorite way to piss the ol' roomies off is turning up the volume on my music louder than theirs. A lot of you agreed with me too, almost 30%. However, for you guys, the best passive aggressive way to piss off the roommate is to punch him or her in the face and deny it. I haven't tried this one yet, but I'm sure it would work.
Best Country Other Than America: God Save The Queen! It's England! In a close heat with Australia, England narrowly nudged her sub-equatorial colony out of the door with only a two vote lead. I was surprised Canada did not do better in this category. I know a lot of you are Canadian and thought you would have voted for your homeland. Instead, I got a lot of votes for England or Australia with taglines at the bottom about how much Canada sucks. I urge these people to caution; Canada may be cold and lifeless in winter but St. Catherine Street in Montreal is perhaps the best place on earth. Long live our neighbor to the north.
Well, that's all for the 3rd Streety Awards. Join us next time with all new categories and prejudices when the Streety Awards return in April!
Here they are Ladies and Gentlemen: the winners of the third Streety Awards.
Most Over-Hyped Movie: While I could not get over the amount of you who had actually seen "Sideways," it still could not defeat the mighty media machine behind Zach Braff's "Garden State." This epic tale of a dude who hangs around his old town was painted as the next "Graduate," and Braff himself was, for once, taken seriously. Sadly though, most of you found that it did not live up to the hype and left you feeling a little like he does in the movie. Maybe I can explain: you went to the movie expecting to see some clever or tremendous piece of art and instead saw what it must be like to live in Jersey. How sad.
Celebrity Who Isn't As Hot As She Acts: We're all used to snotty little brats acting like the world owes them a favor. We're probably even more used to seeing girls who aren't attractive act as if they are. This angers us. If you're going to act like the cock of the walk, you better have the physical beauty to back it up. And while Britney, Paris and Camryn Manheim all act hotter than they are, the biggest delusional is, of course, Lindsay Lohan. It seems the Ms. Lohan hasn't looked in the mirror in a while because you voted her the winner for this category by almost 75%. I guess you guys don't like freckles.
Best Chewing Gum: Ah, it's been proven again: we're all suckers for a cute British accent. With Winterfresh and Dentyne Ice running a close 2nd and 3rd respectively, the Streety goes to Orbitz. I'm not sure if Orbitz is from England or not, but I do know that it has one of the best marketing campaigns out there. They have somehow convinced us to buy a gum touted as a British invention when we all know the British have teeth that would make a rabbit laugh. But on the other hand, it does give you that good, clean feeling"no maahtter whhhat.
Worst Way To Show Someone You Love Them: I thought carving someone's name into your arm was a bad idea. I thought composing poetry was even worse. And if you sacrifice a pet in someone's honor, you should probably be hospitalized. But all of you seem to think that the worst way to show someone you love them is to confess that "I think about you when I'm pleasing myself." As soon as the votes started coming (pun intended), the stories weren't far behind. "Dude," said one young man, "I said that to my girlfriend and she dumped me. The funny part is, it wasn't true at all!" Maybe it's best to keep your fantasies to yourself next time.
Worst Tattoo: Having two myself, I know a thing or two about the art of body inking. I also know that a barbed wire arm band is a horrible tattoo. But it's not as bad as a butterfly above the asscrack. You, however, found a "Spring Break 86" tattoo to be the absolute worst. I can understand; I've been on spring break and not only am I not proud of what I did there, I also don't want to commemorate it at all. Some notable write ins: "Chinese symbol of any kind, anywhere," "Your own name" and "Lyrics from a sad song."
Best Male Deodorant Spray: It seems that the days of Old Spice are coming to an end. Young men these days no longer want to smell like their grandfathers. Instead, when you reach for something to cover up the leaking odor from your hairy body, you turn to something edgy, something sexy"you turn to Axe. I own four scents myself and, while it hasn't got me laid, it has helped me think that I will. The way I see it, as long as you're wearing your Axe, something good will eventually happen to you. It's true, the commercial said so.
Worst Prescription Drug Side Effect: It looks like all of you are horny bastards because impotence won this category by a mile. I guess I could live with diarrhea, bloody stools and sweaty palms if I could still have my libido. However, wouldn't it be a little hard to use that libido when you're shitting blood and sweating through your gloves?
Worst "Trivial Pursuit" Edition: We've all played Trivial Pursuit at some point in time. Maybe some of you have even played a special edition such as "the 1960s" or "the Jeopardy edition." But none of you would want to play Trivial Pursuit, "The Carson Daly Edition" if it existed, that is. Some of you even wrote in to suggest possible questions: "Carson Daly dated this one time A-cup in the late nineties? Tara Reid." "Carson Daly stopped being cool in what year? 1981." I hope he doesn't read this.
Personal Accessory That Says, "I'm Better Than You.": Every now and then we feel like being better than everyone else. That's when we go out and acquire something that does the talking for us. Three years ago it was the iPod. If you saw someone fiddling around with the then-new gadget your heart would sink and a curtain of shame would descend upon your body, for you knew that this person was better than you could ever be. Nowadays we all have iPods. However, we don't all have a big, huge bag of cocaine, and that, it seems, says "I'm better than you." Someone wrote in to tell me that they had all four of the nominees but felt no better than me. All I can say to this is, I will trade you my computer for either a super-model girlfriend or a blackberry. Please, email me back.
Best Magazine That Almost Shows Nipple: And the winner is"Maxim! I was sad to see that FHM did not win, but I will doff my cap to Maxim nonetheless. You know, when I think back on the saddest times in my life, I will always remember this one instance. I was probably fifteen and I had obtained a copy of Maxim from one of my older friends. Now, keep in mind that I was a reasonably intelligent kid with a pretty firm grasp on physics and such. That being said, I somehow convinced myself that if I turned the page just right, I would be able to somehow see nipple. I sat and turned and tilted the page, knowing full well that this method would not work, for over an hour. It was the saddest day of my life.
Best Naturally Occurring Element: What a shocker, Hydrogen wins again! It seems this light, essential element has been taking home all the awards lately. Honestly, this category was more for the write-ins than for the nominees. I got some pretty serious ones from chem. students across the country. "IRON BITCH!" wrote one. "Magnesium is the shit dude, seriously," wrote another. Please, guys, life is not about the elements, it's about what happens when they get together; find something better to do with your time than studying the periodic table.
Rapper With The Worst Luck: While many rappers seem to be getting into trouble or having tragedy befall their families, none is worse off that our old friend Biggie Smalls. On top of being morbidly obese and having a lazy eye, he got shot to death. Biggie's life makes Kanye West's car accident look like a stubbed toe.
Best Passive Aggressive Way To Anger A Roommate: We all hate our roommates, but we never want to say anything about it. Instead, we practice passive aggressive behavior. My favorite way to piss the ol' roomies off is turning up the volume on my music louder than theirs. A lot of you agreed with me too, almost 30%. However, for you guys, the best passive aggressive way to piss off the roommate is to punch him or her in the face and deny it. I haven't tried this one yet, but I'm sure it would work.
Best Country Other Than America: God Save The Queen! It's England! In a close heat with Australia, England narrowly nudged her sub-equatorial colony out of the door with only a two vote lead. I was surprised Canada did not do better in this category. I know a lot of you are Canadian and thought you would have voted for your homeland. Instead, I got a lot of votes for England or Australia with taglines at the bottom about how much Canada sucks. I urge these people to caution; Canada may be cold and lifeless in winter but St. Catherine Street in Montreal is perhaps the best place on earth. Long live our neighbor to the north.
Well, that's all for the 3rd Streety Awards. Join us next time with all new categories and prejudices when the Streety Awards return in April!
The Death of the American Male
The Death of the American Male
There is a current trend in advertising and entertainment that bothers me. No, it's not reality TV or celebrity worship, it's much worse. It is the continuous practice of casting the American male as a bumbling fool, helpless but for his knowing wife. I'm not saying that all men are geniuses or that we are without our flaws, but I think most of us could figure out how to take the seats out of a minivan. Right?
Dad used to be a smart, respected member of the community, able to hand out advice and fix whatever problems popped up. No longer. Now, dad can't even seem to think rationally. He tries to get rid of bees by hitting the nest with a stick. He lights his arm on fire when he tries to cook on the BBQ. All he seems to think about are sports and beer. Dad is the lovable idiot there solely for comic relief. I don't know about all of you, but when I look at my own parents, I see a much different picture.
Sure, my dad has some trouble when it comes to programming the VCR and the concept of watching TV in anything but his underwear is foreign to him, but he's also pretty smart. He's always ready with good advice, works two jobs, knows the ins and outs of the water heater and, I'm pretty sure, wouldn't be dumbfounded by the process of taking the seats out of the minivan. I'd say most men are able to think rationally when it comes to the minutiae of everyday life. And I'd say women have the same capacity: the same intelligence and foolishness of their hairier counterparts.
I guess, in a roundabout way, I'm asking for equality: the right to laugh at both men and women. I'm sick of being forced to only laugh at the stupidity of men - there are only so many times sitcom writers can make the dad-can't-work-the-washing-machine joke before it becomes annoying. Why can't I see one commercial where mom doesn't know how to do something and her husband saves the day? Is it so outrageous that a man would know how to do something a woman didn't? I don't think so.
I don't know if showing stupid men sells more products, but what I do know is it isn't having a positive affect on me. I don't like to think of my Dad - a man I respect and admire - as a moron who can't do anything right. As much as I admire my Mom, I know that she doesn't have the answer to everything either. I also don't like to think that when I grow older and have a family of my own I will be looked at by society as a dependent idiot who relies on his wife for everything. I hope that with sixteen years of education, a fairly good SAT score and a reasonable amount of intelligence I will be able to turn the stove on and off.
Perhaps I am being insensitive to the plight of women. I know that for most of history women were not, and sometimes still aren't, treated equally. I know that many women suffered and died for the freedom that men "naturally" enjoy. I know that there is nothing inherently different between intelligence of the sexes, although the president of Harvard might disagree with me. I know all of these things, but I still can't help feeling a little pissed off when I see a man - a man who probably works hard, pays bills, loves his children, loves his wife, supports his family and is of sound mind - unable to understand the concept of operating a blender.
Let's laugh at him. Let's point out his flaws and have a chuckle about it. Let's watch him stumble around the grocery store and knock things over. Why not, it's funny. But let's also remember that his wife - the one that always is there to solve the problems for him - has flaws of her own. Let's laugh at her too. Let's stop pretending that one sex is smarter or stupider than the other, and let's just have a good laugh at how dumb we all can be sometimes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I can't seem to figure out how to open this can of beans even though I know it is ridiculously easy, and I need my girlfriend's help.
There is a current trend in advertising and entertainment that bothers me. No, it's not reality TV or celebrity worship, it's much worse. It is the continuous practice of casting the American male as a bumbling fool, helpless but for his knowing wife. I'm not saying that all men are geniuses or that we are without our flaws, but I think most of us could figure out how to take the seats out of a minivan. Right?
Dad used to be a smart, respected member of the community, able to hand out advice and fix whatever problems popped up. No longer. Now, dad can't even seem to think rationally. He tries to get rid of bees by hitting the nest with a stick. He lights his arm on fire when he tries to cook on the BBQ. All he seems to think about are sports and beer. Dad is the lovable idiot there solely for comic relief. I don't know about all of you, but when I look at my own parents, I see a much different picture.
Sure, my dad has some trouble when it comes to programming the VCR and the concept of watching TV in anything but his underwear is foreign to him, but he's also pretty smart. He's always ready with good advice, works two jobs, knows the ins and outs of the water heater and, I'm pretty sure, wouldn't be dumbfounded by the process of taking the seats out of the minivan. I'd say most men are able to think rationally when it comes to the minutiae of everyday life. And I'd say women have the same capacity: the same intelligence and foolishness of their hairier counterparts.
I guess, in a roundabout way, I'm asking for equality: the right to laugh at both men and women. I'm sick of being forced to only laugh at the stupidity of men - there are only so many times sitcom writers can make the dad-can't-work-the-washing-machine joke before it becomes annoying. Why can't I see one commercial where mom doesn't know how to do something and her husband saves the day? Is it so outrageous that a man would know how to do something a woman didn't? I don't think so.
I don't know if showing stupid men sells more products, but what I do know is it isn't having a positive affect on me. I don't like to think of my Dad - a man I respect and admire - as a moron who can't do anything right. As much as I admire my Mom, I know that she doesn't have the answer to everything either. I also don't like to think that when I grow older and have a family of my own I will be looked at by society as a dependent idiot who relies on his wife for everything. I hope that with sixteen years of education, a fairly good SAT score and a reasonable amount of intelligence I will be able to turn the stove on and off.
Perhaps I am being insensitive to the plight of women. I know that for most of history women were not, and sometimes still aren't, treated equally. I know that many women suffered and died for the freedom that men "naturally" enjoy. I know that there is nothing inherently different between intelligence of the sexes, although the president of Harvard might disagree with me. I know all of these things, but I still can't help feeling a little pissed off when I see a man - a man who probably works hard, pays bills, loves his children, loves his wife, supports his family and is of sound mind - unable to understand the concept of operating a blender.
Let's laugh at him. Let's point out his flaws and have a chuckle about it. Let's watch him stumble around the grocery store and knock things over. Why not, it's funny. But let's also remember that his wife - the one that always is there to solve the problems for him - has flaws of her own. Let's laugh at her too. Let's stop pretending that one sex is smarter or stupider than the other, and let's just have a good laugh at how dumb we all can be sometimes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I can't seem to figure out how to open this can of beans even though I know it is ridiculously easy, and I need my girlfriend's help.
Career Opportunities
Like diarrhea or redheads, a job is something that you will just have to deal with. Most likely you do not have one now or, if you do, it mostly consists of reading this site while you're there. So, when Mom and Dad cut that precious lifeline at graduation, what will you do? Well, you've come to the right place. A job consists of three phases: the interview, the first day, and the rest of your boring life. Of course, there is more to life than a job; there is also death and burial. But hey, who wants to talk about that?
The Interview: There are three things a potential employer learns about you by conducting an interview: What you look like, what you smell like and if you have an "undesirable" accent like Eastern European, German or New Jersey. Why so little information, you ask? Because not one person in the history of employment had been honest about themselves. "John, tell me your three proudest achievements?" "Well, let's see. I once peed in a garbage can at a bar, I used to eat live goldfish for fun and I've never once used a washcloth." No, that just doesn't work. Instead, feel free to embellish a little here and there. Instead of telling your future boss that you are frightened of men with dark skin, tell him you are a "people person" who can "get along with anyone." Instead of telling him you have trouble tying your shoes and chewing gum at the same time, tell him you're a "multi-tasker" comfortable with handling "anything you can throw at me." This way, your future boss will get the impression that you are actually qualified for the job instead of seeing you for the incompetent, lazy, fart-lighting loser you are.
Some really great interview lines:
"Jail time...God no. I've never even seen a police officer in my life...why would you ask that?"
"Like my father, who died last year leaving my family penniless, always said, 'There's no 'I' in 'Team.'' Excuse me...I need a moment."
"What? No, I had these pens when I came in here...so what if they're the same kind you have out in reception; have you ever heard of a coincidence?"
"If you don't give me this job I'll tell everyone that you showed me your penis...Oh, I'm sorry Ma'am, I had no idea. I'm going to go now."
Your First Day: Once you've lied to your boss sufficiently for him or her (hahaha, yeah right) to offer you a job, it's time to meet your new co-workers. Making a first impression is like getting caught cheating on your girlfriend; you can only do it once. On that first day, remember that all your co-workers probably hate their lives. Therefore, you must never act excited about your new job and instead immediately resort to bitching about it. "Jesus," you will say, "has (boss' name) ever heard of air-conditioning?" "Wow, a half hour for lunch...I bet I can almost eat a Cheez-it!" This identifies you as one of them; a bitter, lonely soldier in the corporate proletariat hell-bent on whining as loud as you can. To solidify your reputation as a "solid guy" or a "cool girl" develop spot on impressions of the company's least popular employees (boss, receptionist, creepy mailroom guy, etc.) Come next Monday not only will you be well-liked, you'll be the office joker; a cherished title. "Hey Randy, come over here and show Crystal your impression of Hanson...seriously, Crystal, it's so funny." You're set.
Eternity: At some point that job you took only to pay off your balance at Peking Buffet will become a career. You'll wake up one day and you'll have three screaming kids, a portly spouse and a back problem...definitely a back problem. You'll say things like, "God, the years just flew by, didn't they?" and "Man, if only I could do it all again...gimme another beer, will ya, Bill." If you need any further examples of what this stage will be like, look at your Dad sitting in his favorite chair bitching about some "jackass in shipping who couldn't tell his ass from his elbow." That will be you before you know it. What a cruel, horrible world we live in.
The Interview: There are three things a potential employer learns about you by conducting an interview: What you look like, what you smell like and if you have an "undesirable" accent like Eastern European, German or New Jersey. Why so little information, you ask? Because not one person in the history of employment had been honest about themselves. "John, tell me your three proudest achievements?" "Well, let's see. I once peed in a garbage can at a bar, I used to eat live goldfish for fun and I've never once used a washcloth." No, that just doesn't work. Instead, feel free to embellish a little here and there. Instead of telling your future boss that you are frightened of men with dark skin, tell him you are a "people person" who can "get along with anyone." Instead of telling him you have trouble tying your shoes and chewing gum at the same time, tell him you're a "multi-tasker" comfortable with handling "anything you can throw at me." This way, your future boss will get the impression that you are actually qualified for the job instead of seeing you for the incompetent, lazy, fart-lighting loser you are.
Some really great interview lines:
"Jail time...God no. I've never even seen a police officer in my life...why would you ask that?"
"Like my father, who died last year leaving my family penniless, always said, 'There's no 'I' in 'Team.'' Excuse me...I need a moment."
"What? No, I had these pens when I came in here...so what if they're the same kind you have out in reception; have you ever heard of a coincidence?"
"If you don't give me this job I'll tell everyone that you showed me your penis...Oh, I'm sorry Ma'am, I had no idea. I'm going to go now."
Your First Day: Once you've lied to your boss sufficiently for him or her (hahaha, yeah right) to offer you a job, it's time to meet your new co-workers. Making a first impression is like getting caught cheating on your girlfriend; you can only do it once. On that first day, remember that all your co-workers probably hate their lives. Therefore, you must never act excited about your new job and instead immediately resort to bitching about it. "Jesus," you will say, "has (boss' name) ever heard of air-conditioning?" "Wow, a half hour for lunch...I bet I can almost eat a Cheez-it!" This identifies you as one of them; a bitter, lonely soldier in the corporate proletariat hell-bent on whining as loud as you can. To solidify your reputation as a "solid guy" or a "cool girl" develop spot on impressions of the company's least popular employees (boss, receptionist, creepy mailroom guy, etc.) Come next Monday not only will you be well-liked, you'll be the office joker; a cherished title. "Hey Randy, come over here and show Crystal your impression of Hanson...seriously, Crystal, it's so funny." You're set.
Eternity: At some point that job you took only to pay off your balance at Peking Buffet will become a career. You'll wake up one day and you'll have three screaming kids, a portly spouse and a back problem...definitely a back problem. You'll say things like, "God, the years just flew by, didn't they?" and "Man, if only I could do it all again...gimme another beer, will ya, Bill." If you need any further examples of what this stage will be like, look at your Dad sitting in his favorite chair bitching about some "jackass in shipping who couldn't tell his ass from his elbow." That will be you before you know it. What a cruel, horrible world we live in.
Career Opportunities
Like diarrhea or redheads, a job is something that you will just have to deal with. Most likely you do not have one now or, if you do, it mostly consists of reading this site while you're there. So, when Mom and Dad cut that precious lifeline at graduation, what will you do? Well, you've come to the right place. A job consists of three phases: the interview, the first day, and the rest of your boring life. Of course, there is more to life than a job; there is also death and burial. But hey, who wants to talk about that?
The Interview: There three things a potential employer learns about you by conducting an interview: What you look like, what you smell like and if you have an "undesirable" accent like Eastern European, German or New Jersey. Why so little information, you ask? Because not one person in the history of employment had been honest about themselves. "John, tell me your three proudest achievements?" "Well, let's see. I once peed in a garbage can at a bar, I used to eat live goldfish for fun and I've never once used a washcloth." No, that just doesn't work. Instead, feel free to embellish a little here and there. Instead of telling your future boss that you are frightened of men with dark skin, tell him you are a "people person" who can "get along with anyone." Instead of telling him you have trouble tying your shoes and chewing gum at the same time, tell him you're a "multi-tasker" comfortable with handling "anything you can throw at me." This way, your future boss will get the impression that you are actually qualified for the job instead of seeing you for the incompetent, lazy, fart-lighting loser you are.
Some really great interview lines:
"Jail time"God no. I've never even seen a police officer in my life"why would you ask that?"
"Like my father, who died last year leaving my family penniless, always said, "There's no "I' in "Team.' Excuse me"I need a moment."
"What? No, I had these pens when I came in here"so what if they're the same kind you have out in reception; have you ever heard of a coincidence?"
"If you don't give me this job I'll tell everyone that you showed me your penis"Oh, I'm sorry Ma'am, I had no idea. I'm going to go now."
Your First Day: Once you've lied to your boss sufficiently for him or her (hahaha, yeah right) to offer you a job, it's time to meet your new co-workers. Making a first impression is like getting caught cheating on your girlfriend; you can only do it once. On that first day, remember that all your co-workers probably hate their lives. Therefore, you must never act excited about your new job and instead immediately resort to bitching about it. "Jesus," you will say, "has (boss' name) ever heard of air-conditioning?" "Wow, a half hour for lunch; I bet I can almost eat a Cheez-it!" This identifies you as one of them; a bitter, lonely soldier in the corporate proletariat hell-bent on whining as loud as you can. To solidify your reputation as a "solid guy" or a "cool girl" develop spot on impressions of the company's least popular employees (boss, receptionist, creepy mailroom guy, etc.) Come next Monday not only will you be well-liked, you'll be the office joker; a cherished title. "Hey Randy, come over here and show Crystal your impression of Hanson"seriously, Crystal, it's so funny." You're set.
Eternity: At some point that job you took only to pay off your balance at Peking Buffet will become a career. You'll wake up one day and you'll have three screaming kids, a portly spouse and a back problem"definitely a back problem. You'll say things like, "God, the years just flew by, didn't they?" and "Man, if only I could do it all again"gimme another beer, will ya, Bill." If you need any further examples of what this stage will be like, look at your Dad sitting in his favorite chair bitching about some "jackass in shipping who couldn't tell his ass from his elbow." That will be you before you know it. What a cruel, horrible world we live in.
Eric has a new column out so rock that. And also rock our ad-free version, CollegeHumorRaw if you don't like ads and do like more boobs. Have a great weekend!
The Interview: There three things a potential employer learns about you by conducting an interview: What you look like, what you smell like and if you have an "undesirable" accent like Eastern European, German or New Jersey. Why so little information, you ask? Because not one person in the history of employment had been honest about themselves. "John, tell me your three proudest achievements?" "Well, let's see. I once peed in a garbage can at a bar, I used to eat live goldfish for fun and I've never once used a washcloth." No, that just doesn't work. Instead, feel free to embellish a little here and there. Instead of telling your future boss that you are frightened of men with dark skin, tell him you are a "people person" who can "get along with anyone." Instead of telling him you have trouble tying your shoes and chewing gum at the same time, tell him you're a "multi-tasker" comfortable with handling "anything you can throw at me." This way, your future boss will get the impression that you are actually qualified for the job instead of seeing you for the incompetent, lazy, fart-lighting loser you are.
Some really great interview lines:
"Jail time"God no. I've never even seen a police officer in my life"why would you ask that?"
"Like my father, who died last year leaving my family penniless, always said, "There's no "I' in "Team.' Excuse me"I need a moment."
"What? No, I had these pens when I came in here"so what if they're the same kind you have out in reception; have you ever heard of a coincidence?"
"If you don't give me this job I'll tell everyone that you showed me your penis"Oh, I'm sorry Ma'am, I had no idea. I'm going to go now."
Your First Day: Once you've lied to your boss sufficiently for him or her (hahaha, yeah right) to offer you a job, it's time to meet your new co-workers. Making a first impression is like getting caught cheating on your girlfriend; you can only do it once. On that first day, remember that all your co-workers probably hate their lives. Therefore, you must never act excited about your new job and instead immediately resort to bitching about it. "Jesus," you will say, "has (boss' name) ever heard of air-conditioning?" "Wow, a half hour for lunch; I bet I can almost eat a Cheez-it!" This identifies you as one of them; a bitter, lonely soldier in the corporate proletariat hell-bent on whining as loud as you can. To solidify your reputation as a "solid guy" or a "cool girl" develop spot on impressions of the company's least popular employees (boss, receptionist, creepy mailroom guy, etc.) Come next Monday not only will you be well-liked, you'll be the office joker; a cherished title. "Hey Randy, come over here and show Crystal your impression of Hanson"seriously, Crystal, it's so funny." You're set.Eternity: At some point that job you took only to pay off your balance at Peking Buffet will become a career. You'll wake up one day and you'll have three screaming kids, a portly spouse and a back problem"definitely a back problem. You'll say things like, "God, the years just flew by, didn't they?" and "Man, if only I could do it all again"gimme another beer, will ya, Bill." If you need any further examples of what this stage will be like, look at your Dad sitting in his favorite chair bitching about some "jackass in shipping who couldn't tell his ass from his elbow." That will be you before you know it. What a cruel, horrible world we live in.
Eric has a new column out so rock that. And also rock our ad-free version, CollegeHumorRaw if you don't like ads and do like more boobs. Have a great weekend!
Growing Up Hottie
My whole life people have told me how good looking I am. I guess I didn't mind it at first, but now it just gets repetitive. Yeah, yeah, I have perfect cheekbones and hair that falls loosely around my eyes, blah, blah, blah. I know it sounds strange to complain about being so devastatingly good looking, but I've been hearing it since I was born.
When I came out of my mother's womb the doctors asked her if she had slept with Zeus; I was that good looking. They closed off the wing of the hospital so that no "inferior' babies could contaminate me. Within two days of my birth, US Weekly was at the hospital trying to get exclusive pictures of what they called "the most beautiful human ever born."
When I got a little older, all the kids at school wanted to be my friend. Do you know how annoying that gets? It was always, "Oh, you're so cool," and "Can we be friends? I'll give you whatever you want." I just wanted to play on the jungle gym, but the inferiors were always nagging me for a photo-op or an autograph. It's like I missed out on my childhood.
High school was even worse. Sure, I was the best looking guy in school and I was making boatloads of cash from my modeling contracts, but I just wanted a normal life. I couldn't even get a date because anytime a girl tried to talk to me she got too nervous to speak. I felt like I was always saying, "I know I'm so super hot you can barely stand it, but I'm a person too." All the kids at school wore what I wore and styled their hair like mine"even the girls. When I got my second Mercedes as a perk from United Models of America, everyone got jobs so they could get a Mercedes too. It was torture.
Even now that I'm older it hasn't stopped. People always assume that I was just lucky to be born so ravishingly delicious, but it's a lot of hard work to stay this inexplicably bone-able. God, if you could only walk one mile in my custom Italian-made, alligator skin shoes, you'd understand that being this monstrously sexy is like a curse. Modeling is no easy business; it's just as hard as any other job. Sure, you may lift heavy boxes all day at a moving company, but would you rather have to sit on a beach for two hours every month and look good? I think not. I'm sure you think being a teacher requires a lot of concentration, but have you ever tried strutting the catwalk at New York Fashion Week? I bet your retinas would give out from all the flashbulbs.
Besides the obvious and almost impossible challenges of my job, people harass me to boot! It seems like for every person thanking me for being so good-looking and brightening their life just by being alive, there is someone else yelling at me for making them feel bad about themselves. "Oh, you models make people think they have to look like you do," they say. Well that's just not true; nobody could look as good as we do. Why do they even try? Look, I never asked to be so perfect, it just happened. I can't help it if the world wants to look at me. I'm the victim here. If looking at me makes you feel bad because you're not as stunning as me, then maybe you shouldn't look so much (even though I know that's almost impossible).
It seems like I have it all - money, cars, women, a perfect body and face - but I don't. You don't know what I'd give to just be normal for a day; to be just like you. It would be so fun. I would go to "work' instead of the spa. I would "shop' instead of having my protein bars delivered to one of my many houses. I would "eat' instead of running two miles whenever I got hungry. It must be so nice to have such a quaint and unimportant life like all of you have. I know it sounds strange coming from someone so divine in every way, but I'm almost jealous of you people"almost.
Maybe before you judge me - or any mega-sexy person for that matter - you should stop and think about what you're doing. We deal with more crap than any of you could take. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a decent assistant who won't sell your soiled underwear at the first chance they get? Do you know what it's like having to find a bank big enough to hold all of your money? Do you even have the slightest notion of what it takes to make the same face over and over again? Can you even begin to comprehend the amount of time it takes to pick something to wear out when you have twelve closets full of designer clothes you got for free? NO! NO YOU DON'T! What did I do to deserve this terrible burden?
When I came out of my mother's womb the doctors asked her if she had slept with Zeus; I was that good looking. They closed off the wing of the hospital so that no "inferior' babies could contaminate me. Within two days of my birth, US Weekly was at the hospital trying to get exclusive pictures of what they called "the most beautiful human ever born."
When I got a little older, all the kids at school wanted to be my friend. Do you know how annoying that gets? It was always, "Oh, you're so cool," and "Can we be friends? I'll give you whatever you want." I just wanted to play on the jungle gym, but the inferiors were always nagging me for a photo-op or an autograph. It's like I missed out on my childhood.
High school was even worse. Sure, I was the best looking guy in school and I was making boatloads of cash from my modeling contracts, but I just wanted a normal life. I couldn't even get a date because anytime a girl tried to talk to me she got too nervous to speak. I felt like I was always saying, "I know I'm so super hot you can barely stand it, but I'm a person too." All the kids at school wore what I wore and styled their hair like mine"even the girls. When I got my second Mercedes as a perk from United Models of America, everyone got jobs so they could get a Mercedes too. It was torture.
Even now that I'm older it hasn't stopped. People always assume that I was just lucky to be born so ravishingly delicious, but it's a lot of hard work to stay this inexplicably bone-able. God, if you could only walk one mile in my custom Italian-made, alligator skin shoes, you'd understand that being this monstrously sexy is like a curse. Modeling is no easy business; it's just as hard as any other job. Sure, you may lift heavy boxes all day at a moving company, but would you rather have to sit on a beach for two hours every month and look good? I think not. I'm sure you think being a teacher requires a lot of concentration, but have you ever tried strutting the catwalk at New York Fashion Week? I bet your retinas would give out from all the flashbulbs.
Besides the obvious and almost impossible challenges of my job, people harass me to boot! It seems like for every person thanking me for being so good-looking and brightening their life just by being alive, there is someone else yelling at me for making them feel bad about themselves. "Oh, you models make people think they have to look like you do," they say. Well that's just not true; nobody could look as good as we do. Why do they even try? Look, I never asked to be so perfect, it just happened. I can't help it if the world wants to look at me. I'm the victim here. If looking at me makes you feel bad because you're not as stunning as me, then maybe you shouldn't look so much (even though I know that's almost impossible).
It seems like I have it all - money, cars, women, a perfect body and face - but I don't. You don't know what I'd give to just be normal for a day; to be just like you. It would be so fun. I would go to "work' instead of the spa. I would "shop' instead of having my protein bars delivered to one of my many houses. I would "eat' instead of running two miles whenever I got hungry. It must be so nice to have such a quaint and unimportant life like all of you have. I know it sounds strange coming from someone so divine in every way, but I'm almost jealous of you people"almost.
Maybe before you judge me - or any mega-sexy person for that matter - you should stop and think about what you're doing. We deal with more crap than any of you could take. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a decent assistant who won't sell your soiled underwear at the first chance they get? Do you know what it's like having to find a bank big enough to hold all of your money? Do you even have the slightest notion of what it takes to make the same face over and over again? Can you even begin to comprehend the amount of time it takes to pick something to wear out when you have twelve closets full of designer clothes you got for free? NO! NO YOU DON'T! What did I do to deserve this terrible burden?
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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