K W Schroeder's Articles

9 total in May 2007

  • Ten Easy Steps to Romantic Bliss

    by K W Schroeder May 08, 2007
    (or: How to Sleep with a Girl Despite a Total Lack of Social Graces)
     
     For some of us, love comes easy. It can happen at the mall, the bookstore, or at Jimmy’s house when you were totally trying to hook up with her hotter friend. Either way, not everyone has romance problems. For those of us who do, here’s a few pointers on how to bag the perfect girl.
     
     Failing that, here’s a few pointers on how to bag any girl who will have you.
     
    1)Find a target. Seeking out romance without a proper subject is like masturbating to the cigarette ads on the back of Penthouse; you know it’s in there somewhere, but damned if I know how to finish this analogy.
    2)Befriend one of her friends. Preferably, one should only make nice with the ugly/stupid girl in your target’s entourage. That way, any drama or resulting backlash from your obvious disinterest can be blamed on the fact that she’s ugly/stupid.
    3)Reconnoiter. Yes, you have to be like Solid Snake on this one. Wait, scratch that- you have to BE Solid Snake. Become that motherfucker. You’ve got to know where the enemy is, where the rations are hiding, and what kind of music your target listens to. Also, be well-versed in hand-to-hand combat and the use of a wide array of assault weapons. Couldn’t hurt.
    4)Fit yourself to her preferences. I don’t care if your only passion is live-action RPGs. No seriously- I don’t care, so stop talking about it. Look, do want to score some ass or what? Then quit being a douche, put down the ten-sided dice and listen up. Jesus.
    5)Wear pink. Chicks dig guys comfortable enough with their sexuality to wear pink, so go out and get a whole new wardrobe’s worth of pink shirts. Dude, I’m just kidding. How could you fall for that? I mean, you’ve spent the last nineteen years in your parents’ basement playing D&D and obviously not washing your face. Nothing could possibly make you look any worse than pink clothes. Except, well, for natural light.
    6)Start rumors about yourself. By this I don’t mean go out and spread obviously untrue stories about your heroism and studliness. Go for subtlety; you were maybe, possibly, in jail once. You might have beaten someone to death with a bicycle chain. You could, or so everyone’s heard, be packing around ten fat inches of nerd-steak. What? Who cares if she finds out you don’t? Look, if she’s gotten that far…
    7)Read something she’s heard of. Before you think I’m asking you to trade in Thucydides for Cosmo, listen for a minute: chicks read, too. Yeah, turns out that the ones worth talking to are also the ones who scribble liner notes in War and Peace. The thing is, you can’t constantly read about guy stuff. Pick up some Frank McCourt, and for God’s sake be seen reading it. He doesn’t suck and you’ll look like you have a heart.
    8)Whatever you do, don’t be a pussy about it. From lacrosse jocks to particle physics grad students, one thing sets some guys apart from others: confidence. Yes, I know some girls like shyness. That’s not what we’re talking about. Shyness and being a pussy are two totally different things. Unless you’re a shy pussy.
    9)Make your presence known. I realize that some girls don’t like guys who draw attention to themselves, but let’s face it: if you were all that captivating, you wouldn’t need my advice to get chicks.
    10) If all else fails, you’ve got a brain tumor. Don’t look at me like that. I know it’s dishonest, but what can you do? A little subterfuge can go a long way with some girls. Don’t get all moral with me, you acne-riddled, pink-shirt-wearing, shy, pale-faced pussy. You’re fucking pathetic! Do you hear me? PATHETIC! So yeah- brain tumor, six months to live, huge nerd-penis.
     
    You’re welcome.
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  • A Chat-Room Conversation Between Tom Wolfe and Stephen King

    by K W Schroeder May 08, 2007

    SK: Because there, in that moment, he knew his life was over.

     

    TW: …and he said, ‘Cool, baby, I gots what ya need.’

     

    SK: His knuckles bulged white against the steering wheel…

     

    TW: (satirical but grossly inaccurate ethnic slang)

     

    SK: (serious but accidentally humorous murder/sex scene)

     

    **Gore Vidal has entered the conversation**

     

    Gore Vidal: …and Henry James, with his mellifluous tenor’s voice, said to his greatest of friends, who sat, sweating but cheerful, among the Summer’s rays…

     

    TW: Get out of here, Gore.

     

    GV: But, I just thought…

     

    SK: No, dude. Just, no.

     

    GV: But I’m…

     

    TW: A douche?

     

    SK: lol!

     

    GV: Fuck you guys!

     

    SK: Aww… Don’t be sad, douche.

     

    TW: LMFAO

     

    **Gore Vidal has left the conversation**

     

    SK: What a fag.

     

    TW: Seriously.

     

    SK: Anyway, a retarded kid, an alien clown and a psychic dog.

     

    TW: What? Wasn’t that Dean Koontz?

     

    SK: Hey, you’re right! Whoops.

     

    TW: Don’t worry, it’s cool.

     

    SK: Has that ever happened to you?

     

    TW: What, confusing my stories with that of a lesser yet eerily similar author?

     

    SK: Yeah.

     

    TW: No.

     

    **Stephen King has left the conversation**

     

    TW: Douche.

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  • Practical Uses for Small Dogs

    by K W Schroeder May 07, 2007
     Small breeds of dogs, while cute, serve absolutely no practically applicable purpose. They stand only as tiny, howling burdens which are too fragile to bat around with a tennis racket when they leave you “presents” under your computer chair, in your closet, and occasionally in your flip-flops.
     I now present to you several very sensible ways to put little Binky to good use. You can thank me later, or you can swear at me because your girlfriend dumped you for being mean to her dog. Either way.
     
    • Door-stop. It may be too small to sic on your neighbor’s kids, but damned if it isn’t just the right weight to keep the kitchen door open while you’re hauling in the kegs for tomorrow’s festivities.

     

    • Head rest. Pillows will usually suffice to support your aching neck and head, but what if you require something more from your pillow? What if your poor cricked neck needs soothing heat as well? Well, isn’t little Zeus just about the perfect size and contour to stuff behind your head as you watch Sports Center? Yeah, I thought so.

     

    • Sled dogs. Okay, maybe not a full-sized sled that can drag you and your perilously ill Indian companion across the frozen tundra, but definitely a sled with something on it. Maybe beer, or other small dogs. With enough small dogs strapped to a little red wagon, why, you could pull almost anything! Except for Squancho, who will probably die in those very last moments right as you reach the outpost, but not before imparting some invaluable nugget of native wisdom. God bless you, Squancho.

     

    • A more convenient remote control. I know it sounds impossible, and it is. You can’t change stations with a dog, no matter how hard you mash the buttons you glued to it. However, you can buy those little tacky Velcro strips to paste onto the remote and the dog, thereby inventing a remote that you can call to you when you’re too drunk/lazy/masturbating to get up and fetch it yourself. But remember, small dogs are pretty weak, so maybe you shouldn’t strap a sled and a gigantic universal remote to it at the same time. Just a heads up.
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  • The Oral Q & A: Everything You Ever Wanted to Ask a Straight Guy About Oral Sex, But Were Too Afraid/Uninterested to Ask

    by K W Schroeder May 07, 2007
    Q: Why does my boyfriend always want me to give him a b. j.?
     
    A: Because he loves you more than anything and can’t find ways to express himself with words, so he lets you slob on it for a while.
     
     
    Q: My boyfriend hates to go down on me, but I really love it. How should I bring it up without seeming needy?
     
    A: Go down on him.
     
     
    Q: How do I give the perfect b. j.?
     
    A: Every guy’s preferences are different, but there is one universal rule: give a beej with no teeth, no talking, and with your hot friend watching.
     
     
    Q: Why do guys always want me to swallow?
     
    A: So they’ll respect you more for your cleanliness.
     
     
    Q: I got my tongue pierced so I could give better head. Why does my boyfriend not like it?
     
    A: I don’t know. It could be that you’re doing it wrong. It could also be that your boyfriend is an MRI machine.
     
     
    Q: My boyfriend has a small penis, and I have big hands. How can I go down on him without making him feel inadequate?
     
    A: He he… Sorry. (snicker)
     
     
    Q: I really want to try deep-throating, but I have a sensitive gag reflex. How can I do this without gagging so much?
     
    A: You could try eating some Orajel, as long as you rinse your mouth out before proceeding with the festivities. Failing that, you can always find the last girl’s boyfriend. (snicker)
     
     
     
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  • A Series of Emails from Britney Spears' Ghostwriter Concerning Her Upcoming Book

    by K W Schroeder May 04, 2007

    Dear Ms. Spears,
       
    I just finished speaking with your literary agent, and I am very excited to assist you with writing your tell-all! I’ve been a fan for many years and I keep up with you in the papers, so I sympathize with the way you’ve been treated by the media and your husband. As an experienced ghostwriter, I can tell you that we should have no problems developing your own “style” that will seem completely original.

    It’s sometimes very important to have a professional around to guide things along and keep them clean and crisp. George Carlin decided to go it alone, and look at his awful excuse for a book! Seriously though, I think that you and I could create a wonderful and exciting book together. I’ll get started right away, since I have most of the resources at hand, then I’ll send you a rough draft of what I have. Feel free to make adjustments and suggestions at will, it’s your story!

    Thank You,
    David M. Gallagher
     


    Dear Ms. Spears,
       
    Just a short note to tell you that I just received your first edit of the manuscript today. I’ll be going over it with a fine-tooth comb very soon. I’m very curious to see what changes you have made!
     
    Thanks,
    DM Gallagher
     

    Dear Ms. Spears,
       
    I’m kind of at a loss of words right now. After having read your editorial suggestions, I find it hard to believe that this came from you. Perhaps you were in a hurry, but so far I’ve counted seventy-eight misspellings of “Britney”, and a sentence constructed entirely of the word "princess" written nine times. Also, one thing we should talk about is how many times you use the phrase "ya'll." I mean, you're not Tom Wolfe- LOL. Oh also, I looked into it, there is no font face that will dot an “i” with a heart or smiley-face. Sorry!

    One more thing, I apologize but I refuse, owing to my ethics and personal beliefs, to call anyone a “doody-head” in publication. Especially Justin Timberlake, who, while small and lithe, is known for his propensity for drunken violence.

    I will revise my first draft and send it along once completed. In the meantime, I suggest you peruse the following books: Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, the Modern Language Association’s Style Handbook, and possibly Where the Sidewalk Ends for an idea of how to properly construct childish poems.
     
    Sincerely,
    David Gallagher

     
    Dear Ms. Spears,
       
    I received your second edit of the manuscript today. If you have waited for very long for me to write this letter, I apologize. After spending hundreds of hours on each revision, and then having them sent back slashed and gouged with crayons and marked with symbols which I assume are words, I have taken to drowning my sorrows in alcohol. It had been twelve years since I had a drop, twelve long years, and in a day I was drunk again. This must be how Hemingway felt toward the end, desolate, alone, angry at the world. And now I'm comparing myself to Hemmingway, I must be drunk.

    I thought for a moment that you were joking about Tom Wolfe. I thought surely they taught you literature in the swampy schools of Louisiana, but I must have been mistaken. Tom Wolfe has never in any way been associated with Star magazine. Or Sesame Street. To say that makes me, an author of far less literary prowess than he, want to crawl under something and die. This is the final revision of your book that I will write. Please do not force me to read another. My heart cannot take it.
     
    D Gallagher


    Dear Ms. Spears,
       
    This is Harlan Adams, executor of Mr. Gallagher’s estate. As you know, Mr. Gallagher was in the midst of helping you with your tell-all book. Since there is no way he can finish the book now, you do not have to compensate him for the completed project. However, the hours he did bill you before his demise should be made payable to his wife, who is going to be raising David's three children.
     
    Thank You and Good Day,
    Harlan S. Adams, Esq.
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  • To the Modern American Male: A Warning Concerning Jocularity

    by K W Schroeder May 03, 2007
     
     If you find yourself unable to control the never-ending river of racist/politically incorrect one-liners that come out of your mouth, fear not, for I am here to help. Self-control and decorum are for the weak, so a certain degree of tact is necessary in order to avoid making a scene or being mercilessly gang-stomped. Below are several of the most prominent and sensitive butts of the most common jokes, and the hows and whys of avoiding them. For your consideration, I present to you:
     
    Bad Times To Tell Jokes About…
     
     
    Women's Lib
     
    Most Dangerous Locales: Abortion Clinics/Birkenstock and Flannel sales
     
    When: Any time.
     
    Why You Should Keep Your Damn Mouth Shut: Because they will eat your soul, and possibly the rest of you, but only after removing your scrotum with the edge of a Bic lighter.
     
    How to Avoid: Stop, look around, and ask yourself, “Are any of these women attractive/not hairy?” If there is an unsafe ratio, or an almost utter lack of bras, flee the scene.
     
    Black People
     
    Most Dangerous Locales: Churches with more than three lowered Escalades parked outside/Anywhere else
     
    When: The warmer days of the year.
     
    Why You Should Keep Your Damn Mouth Shut: Because they will, when angered, resort to righteous tirades on social injustice. Or they’ll beat you to death while making fun of your genitals.
     
    How to Avoid: Only go outside when it’s very cold, or don’t go outside at all.
     
    Gay People
     
    Most Dangerous Locales: Nightclubs with aquatic or tool-related names/The gym
     
    When: Year-round, although generally at night.
     
    Why You Should Keep Your Damn Mouth Shut: Because gay men have hot female friends, work out constantly, and wrestle each other as part of their sexual congress. They are more than equipped to kick the crap out of your pudgy, short-winded ass. Failing that, they’ll just tell Kimberly and Bridget how small your package is in your gym shorts.
     
    How to Avoid: Do exactly what God intended: stay at home, eat fried foods, only date women you meet at AA, and wear mismatched patterns.
     
    Mentally-Disabled People
     
    Most Dangerous Locales: McDonalds/Public libraries
     
    When: Early afternoon, when tard school typically lets out for the day.
     
    Why You Should Keep Your Damn Mouth Shut: Because there is nothing more embarrassing than being mauled to death by eight screaming, short-fingered mongoloids in front of their hot teacher. Retards are surprisingly strong and resilient. Plus, it’s only slightly less embarrassing to win a fight with one than to lose.
     
    How to Avoid: You see that insanely gorgeous girl talking with the helmet-and-velcro-shoe-wearing thirty-year-old? Yeah, don’t go in there.
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  • Gracious Tips for Further Success: Carlos Mencia and Joe Rogan

    by K W Schroeder May 02, 2007
     Dear Misters Rogan and Mencia,
     
     It has become apparent in these past weeks that the two of you are not getting along very well. Why, I wonder to myself, are two of America’s foremost practitioners of biting social commentary and searing political satire fighting amongst themselves like two rabid ferrets? Don’t you realize that without you, we would be nothing? America would never smile again if your respective styles were pushed aside to make more room for your awful, intellectually-superior debates.
     
     For your consideration, I have written two lists of suggestions for the both of you. With any luck, you will be back in action, and away from each other’s throats, in a matter of minutes. I have been a fan for years, of the two of you, and I would hate to see such brilliance wasted on a childish feud.
     
    Thank You,
    A Concerned Fan
     
    To Mr. Mencia:
     
    1)Stop speaking.
    2)Mexicans don’t sound like an eight-year-old’s impression of a drunk Frenchman.
    3)No person on Earth is retarded enough to say “Dee-De-Dee”. Even retarded people attempt to say real words.
    4)Except for you.
    5)Bill Cosby is not funny.
    6)Don’t steal from unfunny comedians.
    7)Having a catchphrase does not make you popular, inventive, or funny. People still say “Git-R-Done”.
    8)Every moment you perform makes Lenny Bruce’s corpse do a ninety-degree rotation.
    9)God hates you.
    10)So does everyone else.
     
     
    To Mr. Rogan:
     
    1)You’re a comedian?
    2)Really? Since when?
    3)Seriously, though. A real comedian?
    4)Making fun of Mr. Mencia does not make you “edgy”. Everyone makes fun of him.
    5)Just because the UFC jocks laugh at it doesn’t make it a funny joke. Those guys laugh at bright colors and loud noises.
    6)…And also at Mind of Mencia.
    7)“Shiny Happy Jihad” is a stupid name for a comedy CD.
    8)Oh, it isn’t a comedy CD? Okay, then I guess it’s alright.
    9)Henry Rollins is better at what you do than you are, and he doesn’t call himself a comedian.
    10)Therefore: you’re not one.
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  • Gracious Tips for Further Success: Fall Out Boy

    by K W Schroeder May 02, 2007
     
     
     Dear Fall Out Boy,
     
     You’ve been on the music scene for a while and seem to be doing pretty well for yourselves. Many kudos, my friends. However, I feel that, like many bands, you lack a certain gloss that is requisite in prolonged success in the mainstream music community. Below, I have listed a few things which you must consider to enjoy a long, illustrious career as one of America’s most brilliant musical acts.
     
     Thank you,
     A Concerned Fan
     
     
     
           What You Must Do:
     
    1)Die.
    2)Die in a fire.
    3)Fuck off and die.
    4)Eat shit and die.
    5)Take a long walk off a short pier.
    6)Go fuck yourselves.
    7)Get fucked.
    8)Fuck you.
    9)(see suggestion #1)
    10)Stop wearing manliner.
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  • The G-Rated Booty Call

    by K W Schroeder May 01, 2007
     Two teacher’s assistants at a local preschool find themselves attracted to one another. Although well into adulthood, they are at a loss when it comes to the intricacies of hooking up. Constant exposure to small children and family-oriented entertainment has left them able to express themselves only through the vaguest of mild euphemisms. This is their story…
     
    Kevin: Hi, is this Shelly?
     
    Shelly: Um, yes. Who’s calling?

    K: This is Kevin, you know, from the daycare?
     
    S: Oh, hi! How are you?
     
    K: Fine, fine. I was calling because, well, I was kind of wondering…
     
    S: Yeah?
     
    K: Well, you know, if you would like to get together some time.
     
    S: Sure. For what?
     
    K: Um, you know, the “play-date” we talked about, for our “little ones”?
     
    S: Oh, right! Sure, sure. I understand now. The “play-date”.
     
    K: When would you like to get together?
     
    S: Hold on, mister. We don’t even know if our “kids” like each other yet!
     
    K: Um, okay. How will we know?
     
    S: Well, what does yours like to do?
     
    K: …
     
    S: Kevin?
     
    K: Yeah, um, well… He likes to get up early in the morning.
     
    S: Okay, what else?

    K: He likes to rough-house and play around.
     
    S: I see.
     
    K: So, what does your “little one” like to do?
     
    S: I, um, she likes to just kind of hang out. You know, she’s kind of a homebody.
     
    K: So no outdoorsy stuff? Dirt-biking, maybe?
     
    S: Well, she’s not averse to it, but…
     
    K: It’s okay, my little guy just kind of hangs around most of the time too.
     
    S: Good then, we’ll have to get ‘em together!
     
    K: What about swimming?
     
    S: What?
     
    K: You know, go for a dip?
     
    S: Um… Isn’t that a little unsafe?
     
    K: Well, I mean, we’d have to get flotation stuff. You know, life-jackets and flippers and all that.
     
    S: Flippers?
     
    K: Well, you know, for later on when they’ve advanced a little.
     
    S: Right, I guess that would be okay.
     
    K: Alright! So when should we get together?
     
    S: Maybe this weekend would be good, she’s got stuff to do this week, ballet and all that.
     
    K: Um… Okay. Sounds good, I guess.
     
    S: I’ll see you Saturday then?
     
    K: Sure. One thing…
     
    S: Yeah?
     
    K: We are talking about fucking, right?
     
    S: …
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K W Schroeder
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