You just made my list!

Sure, people look at me and say, “Steve, you are obviously the most awesome and cool guy in the IT dept, we all know this. But Steve, are you also fun? Do you cut loose on the weekends and have your gamer buddies over for some ice-cold Mountain Dews and a 5 hour Monty Python marathon on VHS?”

Well sir, might I direct your attention south about 18 inches? Yeah that’s right dummy, your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you, that really IS Darth Vader on my tie!!! I know, right? I just blew your mind didn’t I? No seriously, I swear it’s a real neck tie. Go ahead, touch it.

What’s that? Where did I get this hilariously rebellious accessory? No no no, I think not young Skywalker, not ready are you. Wacky tie culture is not something you just jump into blindly.

That’s right corporate world, you will never stifle my joyous nature!

I’M STEVE!

I have always put off writing about Walmart because there is too much to say, and honestly, I’m too lazy to really do it justice. Let’s just say I would literally not spend a penny in Walmart, even if my life depended on it. I watched Walmart breeze into both of the tiny, rural towns my parents are from and completely destroy them. It goes deeper than just causing a bunch of mom-and-pop shops to close, it tears the community apart. In these small towns, Main Street was more than just a place to shop, it was an important bond that helped keep the residents connected. You bought school clothes for your children from the same people who sold you your school clothes when you were a kid. It matters, it just does. Walmart comes to town with all kinds of bullshit promises and just rapes the town. I fucking hate them.

It’s late and I don’t have the energy to write, so please enjoy this instead…

People of Walmart
(update: I think this site just crashed so the link might be broken. Fucking stupid Walmart)

If you are a man* there are very few occasions when a puka shell necklace is allowed on your body. They are…

1) You bought a used time machine on Ebay but the knob is stuck on 1972. It also has a glitch that changes your sex and turns your clothes into a bikini while traveling through time.

2) You are Tatum O’Neal or Jackie Earle Haley and you are starring in “The Bad News Bears.”

3) You are a corpse and your friends thought it would be hilarious to wreck your funeral by strapping some puka shells around your bloated neck.

4) You are Elvis.

5) You are David Cassidy.

6) You work at Abercrombie & Fitch and you swear you were just putting them on as a joke. Ha ha ha, right guys?

7) You are an incredible douche and you want the world to know it!

*check for penis in pants

This afternoon I entered what can only be described as a perfect storm of suckery. A portal to hell opened, and out climbed a collection of douchebags sent to Earth with one mission… to destroy me. This is my tragic tale.

I had to hit the post office this afternoon to ship something I sold on Ebay. It was a beautiful summer day, so even the long line I discovered could not ruin my mood. I say “long” line, but really I was only 7 or 8 people from the front. The package already had proper postage and was ready to go, but since it was kind of a valuable item I decided against dropping it off at the counter and waited in line with the rest of the creeps. It was this decision that caused several things I hate to begin converging.

1) Crazy people! As I was waiting patiently in line I heard the unmistakable sound of a crazy person outside. When I turned and looked out the window I could see he was engaged in a heated debate with the garbage can. Next thing you know, the lamp post chimes in and it’s two against one! I realize I should have compassion for these nutjobs, but I simply don’t, they annoy me. Maybe if I lived in a small town the local psychos would seem charming, but when you live in a major city and you are surrounded by crazies, the charm wears away quickly. Much to my delight, Crazy shook hands with the garbage can and lamp post and marched into the post office to take care of some important shipping.

2) People who get all up in my personal space! Luckily the crazy guy was now a mere 3 inches behind me. Nothing makes a long ling feel like a fucking long line like having a creepy crazy person’s breath blowing through your hair. Well, there is one way to make that line feel EVEN LONGER…

3) People who complain about long lines the entire time they are in a long line! Crazy must have had some important business to get back to at the office because he did not like this long line one bit! I don’t think he stopped talking about the length of the line for longer than 15 seconds. He explained to anyone who would listen (nobody) that the reason the line was long was because there was only one window open. You would think the post office employees would have taken his suggestion to hire more people seriously based on the fact that his shirt was on backward and his shoes were actually socks. It doesn’t get any better than this! Or does it…

4) People who sneeze near me! It was at this point that Crazy started to sneeze uncontrollably. UNCONTROLLABLY! He was like “I don’t understand why SNEEZE they don’t SNEEZE just hire SNEEZE some more people SNEEZE SNEEZE man SNEEZE I ain’t used to SNEEZE this air conditioning SNEEZE SNEEZE SNEEZE.” At least all of his sneeze mist was cooling me down. It was like one of those “cooling tents” at Lollapalooza but more horrible and vomit-inducing. If only there was a way to make his sneezing more annoying…

5) Saying “Bless you!” Every time Crazy would sneeze, the guy behind him in line would say “bless you.” Keep in mind this guy sneezed at least 25 times. How about someone bless me and toss a bucket of holy water in my face to kill the swine flu which was now undoubtedly starting to kill me.

Eventually I made my way to the counter and dropped off my box. Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, I’m free at last! All I had to do was walk out the door and my nightmare would finally be over. Wait, what is happening? Why can’t I get through the door?

6) People who stop in doorways! I have literally never felt the urge to stop in a doorway. Sadly the woman walking in front of me could not fight this urge. Nope, she stopped to read her receipt. I happen to know that she purchased postage for ONE ENVELOPE! What could possibly so important on that receipt that she would need to stop in a doorway to read it? I punched her in the side of the head and went on my way.

Was this as boring to read as it was to write?

We get it, you’re awesome, you can eat a giant cheeseburger in front of a crowd of none. You have certainly earned the right to have your Polaroid up on the wall of sadness, next to the rest of the fat underachievers. What’s wrong, mommy and daddy didn’t buy you that BMX bike you always wanted? Were you stuck riding that girlie, yellow Schwinn Stingray to school while the rest of your friends had kickass, diamond frame dirt bikes? Did you try to camouflage your gay bike to look more BMX with a new seat, pads and a racing number? Did you NEVER get that BMX bike even though your parents could have totally afforded it because your dad was an international banker and your mom worked part-time in a gourmet cooking store and you lived in a nice middle-class home in a nice community? Are you now almost 40 years old but you toy with the idea of buying a diamond frame BMX bike just so you can ride it to your dad’s condo in Miami where you will pedal in circles on the sidewalk screaming “How you like me now old man? Look at your little BMXer now Daddy!”

Oh wait, that’s me.

Yeah, I know, why can’t I just enjoy wacky art cars like everyone else? Shut up hippie, don’t you have some armpits to not wash?

While you are excitedly posing for a photo with these cluster fucks, I shoot hate lasers out of my eyes at you. You can’t feel it, but from my point-of-view, it’s pretty devastating. I can’t decide who I hate more, you for liking these dumb cars, or the hippie turd who spent the last 5 years gluing doll heads and action figures to his mom’s car when he could have used that time showering. It’s such a sad cry for attention, even more so than blogging.

The thing is, there is no art involved in the creation of an art car. Sticking dirty toys to something is not art. These lazy hippies can’t even come up with an idea more original than doll heads and Happy Meal toys. Does anyone like hippies? I don’t even think hippies like hippies.

I’m tired. This post sucked. It sucked, but not as much as art cars, you hippie.

Oh holy Lord, do I love me some pluots!

If you were like me a couple weeks ago, you are now scratching your head and saying in a very dumb voice “what’s a pluot?” You stupid fucking idiot, it’s only the best God damned fruit on this hell hole we call planet Earth. A pluot is a genetically engineered hybrid of a plum and an apricot. I already loved the fuck out of plums but I honestly have no idea what a stupid apricot tastes like, and I don’t give a shit because listen up dummy, when a plum and an apricot love each other very much the result is a beautiful pluot! A pluot could be made from Guy Fieri’s ball sweat and I would still make sweet love to them every night.

Oh… oh… OH… let me tell you about a man who should be worshiped and feared. A man who looks at God’s fruit and says “Are you fucking kidding me? Is that the best you got?” This beautiful son-of-a-bitch is Floyd Zaiger, the genius who first forced a plum and an apricot to have dirty sex (that’s how it’s done, right?). Compared to Floyd, you and I are insignificant, worthless failures. Yeah, that’s right, when was the last time YOU invented the best tasting fruit in the FUCKING UNIVERSE? You and I sit around all day eating Pringles and watching people fall off their skateboards on YouTube, while this magnificent creature designs a piece of fruit so delicious it would make Jesus cry. There should be a never-ending line of people on their knees waiting to blow this man.

Floyd Zaiger is GOD!

Stop the madness! Steven, God is obviously trying to kill you, or at the very least send you a message. Give it up! Stop dancing around like an old, drunk slut at a bar who just played an entire Bob Seger album on the jukebox. Go be an old lady somewhere and stop making me look at you. Seriously, at this point your face has more wrinkles than my saggy balls on a hot summer day.*

Aerosmith has about 7-10 good songs. Unfortunately, the rest of their shitty songs are so God-awful that it has made it impossible to enjoy their good songs. I’m sure Carrot Top has one or two good jokes, but the remainder of his material would prevent me from finding them funny. For every 3 shitty songs you write, a good one is erased from the face of the earth.

Janie’s Got A Gun
+
Dude (Looks Like A Lady)
+
Rag Doll
=
NO MORE TOYS IN THE ATTIC

It’s simple math.

*for those of you who do not have balls, the hotter they get, the longer and more horrible they become.

Enjoy this video of God trying to stop Steven Tyler for good