You just made my list!

I’m taking the day off to work on my Levi Johnston costume, so relive how hilarious and insightful I was last year.

Happy Halloween jerks!

How many blades do we need? This is outrageous! Outrageously AWESOME!

Yeah, I was once an idiot like you. I would sit around all day saying “Five blades is too many, what is with this crazy nonsense?” I would mock razor commercials touting their 2 blades, then their 3 blades, next 4 blades! “When will this end?” I thought to myself. I am here to tell you it should never end!

A few years ago a free Gillette Fusion razor showed up in my mail like an unwanted, screaming baby left on a church doorstep. I wanted to punch it in its face. That cocky son of a bitch thought it was so fucking cool with its five blades. It remained untouched until one day when I realized I was out of razors. I reluctantly opened the package and placed the ridiculously large collection of blades to my handsome face. Listen to me when I tell you that a unicorn flew out of my butt as I pulled the razor across my skin for the first time.

You think five blades is enough? Guess again dick head, the Fusion has a sixth blade hiding on the backside for all your hard to get areas. You can even shave inside your god damn nose with that sixth blade!

I want to make sure you understand that I am not being hilarious and sarcastic, I really DO love this razor! Five blades really DO make a huge difference. I bet seven blades would be even more awesome. Why stop there, give me ten or twelve blades! Make a glove covered in 100 razors and I will use it.

Stop being a sissy a get a 5 blade razor already.

Well, I guess it’s time to write about these crimes against humanity because there is a song sweeping the nation all about them. Who am I kidding? I’m using the fact that there is this stupid song as an excuse to put very little effort into this. LEAVE ME ALONE, I’M BUSY!

The truth is that I really do hate these fast food combo restaurants. How can I possibly decide between Taco Bell diarrhea or E. Coli from the Pizza Hut salad bar? I won’t choose so don’t ask!

Now, let’s talk about this Pizza Hut and Taco Bell song by Das Racist. I know nothing about this duo, but they scream New York ironic hipster to me. You know what really makes me mad about this song? I fucking LIKE it! I deserve to have my ears removed for tolerating this shit.

Sorry this post sucked. I hate myself.

90% of the time when I’m driving and I see another driver make a jackass move, they are busy texting away. I drive up next to them and give them a look that says, “I disapprove of you and your ways.” 92% of the time I am stranded behind someone at a stop sign or a green light it’s because the car in front of me is texting their friend important information like “I M in car, B ther in 5. LOL.” I’m not sure why they are texting LOL at the end of that but I’m sure they are.

Get off your fucking phone and stop driving like you are playing Grand Theft Auto and purposely trying to run down prostitutes.

That is, unless you are me.

I was recently awarded the “World’s Best Driver” award from the International Federation of Driving Arts and Being Awesome. Yeah, I’m that good at driving. I’m even better at driving while writing emails, buying shit on eBay, texting, playing PacMan and looking at porn on my iPhone. I once watched an entire season of Lost on my phone while driving 115 miles per hour through the desert. I wasn’t even wearing a shirt for Christ’s sake!

You, on the other hand, drive like a cockknuckle while texting on your less-cool-than-the-iPhone phone of yours. The next time your texting gets in the way of my trip to Red Lobster, I’m going to pull up next to you and pee in your window. You have been warned.

Speaking of texting, I would like to admit to the dumbest idea I have ever had. I am ashamed of myself for this “invention” but I feel that sharing it will somehow cleanse me. Here goes…

I was driving and thought “Wouldn’t it be easier to text if I could just speak into the phone and it would use voice recognition to create a text?” Well idiot, here’s an idea, instead of speaking a text message how’s about you just fucking call the other person and SPEAK it directly to them. I hate myself for being that dumb.

Barf.

I hate anything that has to do with shins, eyeballs or gums. Gums are profoundly disgusting to me. I take good care of my teeth and brush several times a day but I would rather get a salsa colonic than floss. I recently started flossing every night, rather than once a week, and it’s ruining my life. Every time that tiny string shoots through my teeth and slams into that little gum flap I practically faint.

Can’t they invent a laser or something that will do my flossing for me in the blink of an eye while I flex my muscles in the mirror. Oh yeah, I should mention that I always floss in the nude. There I set you up for some jokes, let’s see what ya got!

I’ll be back to share my important opinions tomorrow.

I think I’m going to be moving this entire site to a new host. This will either be the most awesome thing I have ever done, or the last time anyone sees the site. I suggest you all get your cameras out and take photos of your favorite posts, because it might be your only memory of You Just Made My List. So please bear with me over the next few days while I systematically destroy all my hard work.

Fuck everything!

I’m currently trying to sell my house in the middle of the worst housing market since magical God created the Earth 6,000 years ago. The funny thing is that not only am I trying to sell my house, I’m also currently watching my entire life crumble to pieces before my very eyes. It has been a joyous year!!!

Needless to say, when my air conditioner decided to ice over and pour water all over my laundry room on the morning of our first realtor open house, I was a tad stressed. It’s not a situation where you want two realtors running around your house like busy ants, rearranging your shit and putting little signs everywhere. They were just doing their jobs, I understand that, but it’s not their job to be my therapist.

They meant well when they told me approximately 300 times to “not worry” and “relax” but it is literally IMPOSSIBLE to relax when you are dealing with the shit I’m dealing with. I’M GOING TO WORRY IF I FEEL LIKE FUCKING WORRYING!

They are perfectly nice people, but telling a stressed person to relax just makes them more stressed.