You just made my list!

Unless you make a living shooting 80s porn in your home or hope to one day rent your house out to Chris Hansen’s cock-block-a-thon “To Catch A Predator” series, I would suggest avoiding vertical blinds. They only lead to bad things.

Sure, passing through vertical blinds is like walking inside a giant tickley mustache, and who doesn’t love that? And yes, it’s really awesome the way they gently knock everything off your plate as you attempt to navigate your way through them at your family reunion, but is that enough? IS IT?

Vertical blinds are like elderly security guards, they sort of get the job done but ultimately just end up making everyone sad who has to be in their presence.

OK, if you are a female you might as well tune out right now because I think this might be a boys-only kind of rant. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this is a me-only kind of rant. Who cares, I just suffered through an hour and a half of Project Runway and I’m cranky thanks to an accidental nap. I fucking hate naps.

Look, shut up for a second, all I’m trying to say is that when I was a kid I would stare at the toy section of the Sears catalog until my eyes would bleed and every year they would feature a mini pool table. I would stare at it and imagine myself setting up an entire room of mini pool tables in my basement, turning it into a dark and smoky mini billiards hall with mini Asian men gambling in the corner and mini blues musician types shooting pool and drinking Scotch while a mini George Thorogood bad-to-the-boned his way around the room. How could it not be great?

Well guess what, it was all a lie! If you want to see a child’s dreams die just watch them play miniature pool for the first time. Fuck you Sears!

Nobody cares. Why are you even reading this?

Yeah, I masturbated to this novelty, disappearing clothes pen. Jealous?

I’m not proud of it (maybe a little) but it happened and I think we should all just acknowledge it and move on.

How was it that I found myself straining my eyes to masturbate to a tiny naked lady on an ink pen? That is a great question, thanks for asking. You see, the year was 1998, the Barenaked Ladies (ironically) topped the charts with their brilliant Canadian-comedy-pop-rap, Robin Williams turned the world of pediatrics on its red rubber balls with his touching portrayal of Patch Adams and thanks to pre-9/11 American bliss we were still innocent enough to masturbate to pens at work.

I was an optimistic young man working at a mid-sized company and occasionally I had a little extra time on my hands (ironically). Don’t get me wrong, I worked very hard (ironically) for this company but when I was between projects I had to literally stare at my desk. All you whippersnappers out there don’t know what it’s like to kill time at a job WITHOUT THE INTERNET but it was brutal!

Sure, I perfected the 20 minute walk around the office looking busy and the taking a nap sitting upright at my desk with my hand on the mouse (ironically) but that wasn’t always enough. Now, the following formula may seem foreign to you ladies but do your best to follow along…

Boredom + Time + Penis = Masturbation

The only unknowns in that equation are how and where. And in my case, which pen to bring along.

It was pretty simple really. I would bring my date, either the tall blonde in heels or the cute brunette with the big 70s bush, into the bathroom stall and quickly do my business. It had to be quick because the receptionist’s desk faced the entrance to the bathrooms and I’m sure she knew the time it took the average person to pee and/or poop. Any deviation from those two options would not go unnoticed so I really had to emulate the duration of a normal poo session. If someone walked into the bathroom while I was romancing myself I immediately ceased operations and switched to simulated pooping. It was the perfect plan.

Keep in mind, this only happened a couple times because usually I was too busy and the sadness of jerking off to a pen was not lost on me.

Deal with it.

Shit, where will I buy my fanny packs and shiny disco leggings now?

Ironic hipsters and flat-chested teen runaways (AKA future American Apparel models) the world over are freaking out because dressing like a fucking asshole is about to get a little harder. Seems that Dov Charney’s business model of sitting around masturbating all day and rehashing every fashion mistake of the 80s is not working out too well.

You’d think a company that sells satin jackets and features vaginal penetration in their ads would be around longer.

Bye bye now.

You know what “flickr” stands for?

Finding
L something
I something
Creepy
K something
R something.

OK, maybe I didn’t work that out very well but my brain is about to melt thanks to finding the world’s scariest photo.

I want to be delicate here because the photographer had good intentions (if you call taking a photo of your grandfather on his deathbed a good idea) but holy shit do I wish I never saw this nightmare. I mean COME ON, it’s got everything you need to keep you up at night… exposed light bulb in a dark room, grainy black & white, mysterious little dolls, a crucifix and a dying grandfather who looks remarkably like he’s wearing a “Michael Myers” mask.

Blow it up at your own risk, I’m pretty sure it steals your soul.

Fuck you, showoff!

Oooooh look at me, I’m too good to be normal mustard, I’m filled with honey from a bee’s vagina.*

I know you are anxious to say “No way bro, honey mustard is the shit.” Well, you are almost correct, just remove the word “the.”

Good old fashioned yellow mustard is the Police and honey mustard is Sting. In other words, classic yellow mustard is America’s Funniest Home Videos with Bob Saget and honey mustard is AFV with Tom Bergeron. What I’m trying to say is that yellow mustard is Swayze in Road House and honey mustard is Swayze in Dirty Dancing. Got it?

*I’m not 100% sure that honey comes from a bee’s vagina but I’m pretty sure it does.

Honey mustard belongs on fucking Mars!

Fuck me.

From as far back as 2008, the entertainment world has been clamoring to find a talent impressive and worthy enough to appear side-by-side with the always impressive Guy Fieri. Well, I don’t know how they did it or what kind of crazy backroom deals went down but they finally found a personality to rival the great Fieri. I am speaking, of course, of the Aflac duck.

Not since Lennon & McCartney, Scorsese & De Niro, Bert & Ernie or Zack Morris & A.C. Slater has the world seen such magical chemistry explode all over its face from an on-screen duo. Imagine if David Lee Roth and Jesus Christ formed a band… Yeah, it’s THAT good.

I have to admit, I never thought I would ever see anyone match the staggering charisma of Sir Guy Fieri but that duck manages to somehow hold his own and, dare I say it, he even manages to out-act Fieri in a few scenes. I know, I know, it’s sacrilege to suggest anyone’s talent could equal Fieri’s but please understand, I’m not saying Guy Fieri wasn’t brilliant in this commercial, I merely have to give credit to the duck for a truly brave performance.

Hey Guy, Billy Idol called and he wanted to let you know the Stray Cats called and they want their bowling shirts back.

Well, the end of the world is officially upon us, this guy is on a hit TV show.

Not only is there one “reality” show about the incredible action that takes place at the pawn shop, there is now a second show on its way to that TV of yours that one day, if you are lucky, you will be pawning on a TV show about pawn shops. The circle of life.

The first show to break the pawn cherry was “Pawn Stars” on the History channel. Wait, did I just say the History Channel? I must have accidentally said the History Channel because clearly there is no room to squeeze such a mindless show into their full lineup of Hitler-related entertainment. I mean, come ON, it’s a show about people selling their crap to buy drugs, how can it be on the History Channel?

Can’t get enough of people hocking watches and bowling balls? You are in luck because TruTV (whatever the fuck that is) is about to shove “Hardcore Pawn” down your various head holes. Oh boy, I can’t wait to see people argue over the value of uncle Eddie’s class ring!

By the way, see what they did there? Both shows had the incredibly hilarious idea to exchange the word “porn” for “pawn.” HOLY SHIT, that is rich! Now, I’m just thinking off the top of my head here, just a little brainstorming… I’m thinking Nickelodeon needs to immediately start developing “Kiddie Pawn” if they want to ride this amazing pawn wave all the way to the bank. Don’t be the only channel without a pawn shop show, Nickelodeon!

I give up.