You just made my list!

Thanks for giving me the names of all your kids, it will be much easier to kidnap “Boogers” from the playground with that info.

These stupid bumper stickers have been mentioned in comments before on this site, but it’s time they got their due. They have more than earned their place on my list. I don’t give a shit about your stupid anorexic family, I just want to drive behind your slow-moving minivan in peace. I don’t need to know the intimate details of your life. I don’t need the pressure of trying to figure out everyone’s hobbies from the rudimentary cave drawings you have provided. Perhaps you could also display your tax returns for the last 3 years, your resume and the kids’ grades? Tell me, who is Booger’s favorite Jonas Brother?

The thing that really bothers me about this crap is everyone’s willingness to be the same. I hate fads. I guarantee these turds have a box of “valuable” Beanie Babies collecting dust in their basement and a full assortment of Crocs waiting by the door. It’s ironic that these decals end up making every family look exactly the same.

I hate it when other people are happy.

If you are reading this post from your iPhone while sitting in the waiting room at one of the thousands of hair salons hilariously named “Shear” something, I can promise you 3 things… 1) you are about to get a shitty haircut 2) you are sitting within 5 feet of a Nagel-style window decal and 3) you don’t really own an iPhone, that’s your VCR remote.

I’m sure the first person to come up with this hilarious pun probably sat straight up in the middle of the night and screamed, “I’ve got it! Shear Talent! Ed. Ed. Ed. ED, WAKE UP! I finally have a name for my salon!” I’m also sure Ed rolled back over and prayed to the Lord to kill him in his sleep. I will give this first person a pass, but this madness (shear madness?) needs to stop. The Government needs to forget all this health care nonsense and immediately put an end to any new salon wanting to be named “Shear” something. Priorities!

Just when you thought hipsters had run out of ways to be ironic, those geniuses figured out a way to tap into one more ridiculous trend… the beer belly. According to The New York Times, looking like a fat tub of shit is now cool. The New York City dump is about to be flooded with useless skinny jeans.

I see a problem though. The fat trend is not going to work very well with the trend to be vegan. Then there’s smoking, a habit many hipsters use as a way make their body odor even worse. Smoking has been the skinny hipster’s friend for many years but it could really slow the transformation from cool heroin skeleton to beer-guzzling bubba. I’m thinking a new industry will have to grow around this trend. I’m going to start a “diet” magazine called “Brooklyn Gut” for hipsters looking for tips on weight gain and beer belly shaping. My first article will be titled “Critical Mass Won’t Give You That Critical ASS: Time to Give Up Your Bike.”

SHIT, what will happen to American Apparel? They are going to be working day and night making XXXL ironic shiny disco pants and satin jackets! Luckily their employees are so well-paid and have the best working… SHUT UP!

Is this why Kevin Federline is so fucking hugely fucking god damn fucking fat now? Is K-Fed a trend-setter?

Boredom + white women + sponge = sponge painting!

I was going to write this long, super hilarious rant about sponge painting and how it looks like a cartoon character has wiped its shitty ass all over your walls, but then I realized I was lazy. Actually, the truth is that while searching for sponge painting photos I discovered the site uglyhousephotos.com and spent WAY too much time on it. The end result is that I have run out of time to write AND I literally feel nauseous from looking at these disgusting houses. I need to cry for a while.

I suck but you probably suck too, so we are even.

Do they?

Right now you are correctly asking yourself, “What is this ‘Shack’ that all my friends are constantly talking about? Is it the latest trendy nightclub? Is it a sexually transmitted disease?” You idiot! It’s the god damn, motherfucking Radio Shack, bitch!

Much like Miracle Whip, Radio Shack is about to dial up their attitude and punch you in the face with their dick, and if you don’t like it you can kiss their ass right through their skinny jeans. I’m sure you’ve been on the subway and overheard a couple young hipsters in Flaming Lips T-shirts talking about cruisin’ on down to The Shack to pick up some 4700µF 35V 20% Axial-Lead Electrolytic Capacitors before going to the liquor store to pick up a sixy of PBRs. BOOYAH!

I was just at Lollapalooza and all I heard in the audience was “Shack this” and “Shack that.” In fact, Snoop Dogg spent half of his set giving shout-outs like “Where my bitches at? Where my 20A 250V Ceramic Fuses at? Raise your 4A, 400V Full-Wave Bridge Rectifiers in the motherfucking air, and wave ’em like they are rated 4-amps, with 400 Peak Inverse Voltage!”

PEACE!

This photo is more beautiful than any piece of crap Ansel Adams ever photographed. I took this photo at a “Waffle House” and I’m planning on having it tattooed on the inside of my eyelids so I can dream about it every night. I LOVE Waffle House. These people are my heroes. Sadly, the amazing Waffle House chain does not reach as far north as Chicago, but you can bet your fat ass that any time I’m on some awesome road trip, being cool and kickass, I will search one of these fuckers out and eat the living shit out of some waffles. Luckily, there are many great greasy spoon diners in Chicago. Unluckily, there are also a ton of trendy bullshit breakfast spots too.

Every once in a while I’m forced to go to one of these horror shows, but never again, I’m putting my foot down. Here’s what you can count on at the trendy places…

1) A long wait. All you want is to nurse that hangover with a plate of fat with a side of fat and a tall glass of fat, but instead you get the pleasure of waiting for an hour and a half surrounded by guys in khaki shorts and dress sandals.

2) A cramped table. After feeling like you might die on the sidewalk, you finally get a table. Yay? Sadly this table is so close to your neighbor’s table, you can feel khaki shorts rubbing against your leg the entire breakfast and are forced to eavesdrop on a conversation about the Counting Crows.

3) Fussy food. These places try to reinvent what short-order cooks already perfected decades ago and fail miserably.

4) A huge bill for your boring, fussy food. Let me just quickly run to the bank an apply for a small business loan so that I might pay for these eggs.

5) GET OUT! Yeah, your waitress (she’s really a performance artist) has no interest in calling you “honey” and letting you take your sweet time.

Nothing beats A good, fatty, greasy, classic diner breakfast. It tastes better, it’s cheaper and your waitress will either be awesome because she is so nice, or awesome because she is so rude. So take your fancy, expensive, bullshit breakfast and place it in the darkest of dark places.

When did every kid become allergic to everything? When I was a kid growing up in the 70’s, I don’t remember ever being asked if I was allergic to nuts, or anything else, before being handed a cookie by a friend’s mom. In fact, that cookie was probably presented to me with a big cloud of cigarette smoke blown in my face. “Here are some cookies kids, now go outside and play with some fire or something, mommy needs a nap.”

I never even HEARD of a nut allergy until the 90s! All of a sudden, out of nowhere, I’m being told a tiny whiff of peanut air can literally kill some kids. Not just some kids, it seems like every kid has some sort of food allergy now. I don’t want to live in a world where children have to fear a delicious PB&J samich. My biggest fear as a child was that disco might one day ruin the band Kiss… WHICH IT DID! Later, in Jr. High, my biggest fear was my penis becoming erect in class… WHICH IT DID!

This is not a rant against the kids who happen to have nut allergies, rather it’s about how fucked up and complicated it is to be a kid now. For the most part, I think parents today make life for their kids way too complicated, but then there’s weird shit like nut allergies and autism that seem to be all the rage now. Man, I feel so lucky to have grown up in a time where my biggest concern was memorizing the pattern to every Pac-Man screen… WHICH I DID!

No, no, no, no, no, no! Never do this this to yourself. For the love of god, have some self respect.

Unless you are worried about pickpockets or losing your change while doing a handstand at your friend’s shitty wedding (see Jill the whore and Kevin’s wedding video) there is no reason a man should ever have dainty flaps on his jean pockets. Now you reply in an annoying voice, “but it’s fashion, I’m just trying to look cool.” God, I hate your voice. Listen, I understand wanting to look good but the trick to looking good as a guy is to look like you aren’t trying too hard. Actually, you shouldn’t really try too hard.

Stick with the basics and you can avoid looking back at old photos with shame from all the trends you followed over the years. Sadly, I did not learn this until my early 20s and have college photos of me, a skinny suburban white kid, dressed as a member of De La Soul. I could often be found looking like an extra on “Do The Right Thing.” Luckily, I did not dress hip hoppy every day, but I did it enough to feel ashamed for the rest of my life.

I hate to be the one to break the bad news to you, but if you are a guy who wears jeans with pocket flaps, you need to be aware that the world looks at your fancy ass and says, “That guy is gay.” If you are a gay man who wears these jeans, the world is looking at you and saying, “That gay guy is wearing those straight guy gay pants.” In either scenario you are being horribly misunderstood.

In summation, your pocket flap pants are douchey and your douchey ass is douchey for wearing them you douchebag.