Zarapes and Black hats. How I hate you.

So last week, while wandering around Coronado Island, I was walking by a store and I saw this:

Really. Like really.
You took traditionally garments from my Mexican people, and whored them up 128 percent. WHAT. First of all, shut up. Secondly, what ridiculous person would even wear sure a terrible looking thing. I mean Mexicans wear these traditional garments because they’re practical. Or something.

I mean the red, blue, and green strips are designed to dissipate heat in the summer days. It’s Mexican Science that proves these colors are anti-heat insulated. And they are made of old news papers because every Mexican knows that old news papers are considered to be a sign of wealth. And then comes a long little Mrs. Polly, with her pink furred boots and her whore Mexican shirt, totally disgracing my people. My people have suffered many moons, and I will not stand for this Whore-zilla taking anything away from my heritage. In fact I’m going to call all my cousins, and go down there, well, and get all loco on that store fool. Orale well. Leave embarrassing Mexicans to embarrassing Mexicans like me. I don’t need your help, well.

Another thing.
Dear Douche Bags who wear black hats at Moondoggies on Thursday night,

I hate you. Why don’t you and your clone army all go back to bald white guy on riods island. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Look people, I’m an engineer which makes me a numbers person. I am going off hard empirical proven statistics. Don’t just think this is just Ol’ Steven going off on a rant for no reason. It’s all in the numbers. Please see graphs and percentages above for details.

Okay, Okay, extremely harsh I know. And slightly unfair towards ALL guys that wear a black hat. I exaggerate to make a point and I feel like being a jerk tonight.

So you’re asking where does this deep routed dislike for black hatted jerks stem from.
Bouncers. The bouncers at Moondoggies. And planet earth for that matter.

By day, they wake up at noon, head the gym, maybe the beach, take some shirtless photos of themselves to post on myspace, then take an afternoon nap. Maybe even a few of them have day jobs, maybe their lawyers and doctors and engineers, or maybe and more likely their busing tables or doing construction or a janitor. I’m not looking down on these types of jobs, not all. I respect these jobs, I used to have these jobs. I understand these jobs.

What I don’t understand is why when they start their job as a black hatted wearing bouncers at Moondoggies they become all powerful super jerks.

And they know they do. And they can be. They are the keepers of the line. They and they alone have the power to decide who gets in and waits in line for an hour while the place is half way filled up. I don’t understand. I mean I can see tons of space inside, but yet the line is at a stand still. This is the mystery of the line. This is why he gets paid the big bucks. And when you finally make your way to the front, it’s like being hand pick by Jesus himself. It’s your turn. You’re soo close, but yet still at the mercy of the gate keeper. You’re trying to be cool, like you been in a thousand times and it’s no big deal that your about to go in. But in reality the little voice in your head is screaming for joy, like you just won the super bowl, waiting for the moment the bouncer lets you in so you can walk in and pass a smug smile to the rest of the chumps in line. Because you know for that moment in time, you are better in every way possible than every person still in line. Every way.

What other occupation do you have people begging you for services, girls flashing you for what you have and people bribing you like you had something to do with owning the bar? When else can someone with a myspace headline of “Sup ladies, baller in da house ” decide whether to let in the Nobel Peace Prize Winner or the hot blonde. Actually, I’m just jealous. Extremely jealous. Because as I patiently wait in line with all the “normies”, and at any given time a horde of attractive girls can swoop in and get in an hour ahead of me. And I’m not going to lie, I’ve bribed my way into “Linedoggies” once or twice before. Actually my buddy Dan is the king of bribing the bouncers at Moondoggies. He sometimes bribes them to get in, even though there’s no line. But I side track. I hate bribing the bouncer, I mean it’s MOONDOGGIES. In PB. It’s not like I was at some super hot club in Vegas, or a Cher concert.
I know they have a job to do, and I know they do it. But I’m just bitter is all and all I have is writing in my online diary making fun of them in secret. P.S. I would be banned from Moondogs for life if one of the bouncers read this. Good thing for me, they don’t know how to read. ZING. Just kidding. I don’t actually mean to offend them, and if by chance one of them actually is “reading” this blog, they do great work. Please continue to form unnecessary lines, inside and outside the bar, please continue to let in whore-zillas hours before me, and please please continue to let me bribe you into your wonderful establishment.

With that said, if anyone would like to meet up next Thursday I can be found waiting in line for Moondoggies.

Craig’s List 3.0

***********Old blog, back posting***********
Originally:Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Long time no blog. Sorry. Work is kicking my Ass. School is school. And I’m doing about a million other community things, yada yada. Not that anyone cares about my real life, I’m just saying. Actually, pretty funny, I just got a message from a blog subscriber who was asking when the next blog was coming. I said well you know I’m pretty busy with real life, etc…. she said it was weird to think of me as a person that exists in real life. WHAT the H!

With out further ado…..

Craig List All stars, one more time

There you go.  AND

If you come come across a potential Craig’s List all stars in your city during your sweeps of Craig List, feel free to send them to me! I’ll give you royalities to all the money I make off that blog. Fuck it, I’ll give you a thousand times what I make off every blog. Keep in mind 1000 times zero is zero.

LEAVE comments. Or else?

With the boots and the fur….

*********Old blog, back posting**********

From January 29th, 2008

Greeeeeeeeeeetings! Hi there. Welcome. Bienvenidos.

Last week marked the first week of me officially being an SDSU grad student, it’s all so very exciting. The thrill of sitting in class, the joys of homework and the opportunity to not talk to/make eye contact with a whole different school of girls. Yep, it’s going to be a great year.

So as I stood in line for the delicious Panda Express during a break between the first day of classes, I was busy doing what any socially awkward engineer would be doing. I was staring at the ground, like it was my job. Like I was the official ground inspector, and it was my duty not to look up, no matter if I was standing in line between two attractive girls. But thankfully this was this case, other wise I could have completely missed a ridiculous site. What did I see?

I saw an attractive twelve-teen your old looking girl, in line in front of me, who was wearing pink boots with white fur and a short jean mini skirt. Jackpot.
Really?? On the first day of classes? That’s the fashion statement you’re going with? Really?

This blog is going to be about just a few of the ridiculous fashions I noticed on the SDSU campus on the first day of class.

I mean I’m not a fashion guru by any means, in fact it looks like I get dressed in the dark by a pack of monkeys, BUT I do know what’s ridiculous. And you, my attractive friend, are ridiculous. And all I could hear in my head the entire time I was thinking about how ridiculous she looked, was the “… with the boots with fuuuuur, the whole club was looking huuur…” song, and since that’s the only part of the song I know, it played over and over and over.

Got me thinking, why was the club looking at “hur” as this girl with the boots with the “fur” walked in. . . . What is it about this fashion statement that gets the attention of the club? Here’s my explanation.

Actually boots with the fur aren’t that bad, in some cases. It’s just ridiculous to see them coupled with short skirts. There must be an easier way to show guys you have VD. Okay a little harsh, sure. I’m just saying, on the first day of classes THIS was the message she wanted to send to her classmates. This was her first impression to me, and I was just the guy behind her at Panda Express. I wonder what she wears on the second day of class? Lingerie? Hope none of my readers where boots with the fur. . . .

I grab my ever healthy Panda Express cuisine and head to my table. I begin eating my friend grabs my attention and points me in the direction of a girl who is standing about 10 feet in front of us with her back to us. What was SHE wearing you’re asking?? I’m not really sure how to describe it actually, but for purposes of this blog I guess I’ll call them “It looks like her ass is eating her pants” pants. Yeah, THOSE pants. I vomited just a little in my mouth, just a little.

(I know I show non-yoga pant in the picture, but the rule applys to many pant types, I just happen to see yoga pants)
Why why why would you wear those? I can’t image she can’t feel that ¾ of her pants are now nestled securely inside her butt crack. I mean for the most part these yoga pants can be an attractive thing. I’m not even saying that only skinny girls should wear these pants, all I’m saying is PLEASE buy the right size. Nobody wants to see your pants as they get sucked into the most secret of crevices of your butt. That’s not too much to ask right?

Well there’s my two cents on a few fashion observations I picked up last week on campus. Tomorrows another day of school so who knows what I’ll see then!

YOU tell me some fashions you find to be ridiculous

Craig’s List, one more time…

************Old blog, back posting************
From: Monday, January 14, 2008

Sitting down and conjuring up funny is more difficult than it sounds. So in taking the easy route out, I think I’ll do another CL’s blasting. It’s the easy way out of writing a real blog, sure, but I promise it will be my last one about CL losers, for a while. Actually it got me kind of thinking, maybe this will be the year I tackle the hard hitting topics in my blogs, like politics, legislation reform, and world peace? Maybe it will be, maybe it will. . .HAHA!

Actually by politics, legislation reform, and world peace I actually mean I’m going to duct tape a 40 to my hand and smash the key board and see what comes out.

Here it is. More Craig’s List Tool boxes.

There it is, the easy way out of a blog, Craig’s list losers. I promise future blogs will be more thought out and planned. Actually I kind of wrote down some new ideas for this year blog, things to be included:

“Relationship advice – ask the guy that can’t get any himself, on how to get some”

“Video blog?”

“Craig list all stars – time to pick on the girls”

“Steven gets drunk and does something ridiculous

Etc etc.

Leave me some comments?

If you liked this blog you might like:

• Craig’s List All Stars 1.0

• Craig’s List All Stars 2.0

Started 2008 with a Bang!

*********old blog, back posting**********
From:Friday, January 04, 2008

Hello Hello! Welcome to 2008, and welcome to my first blog of year. Not too sure what it’s going to be about just yet, kind of just sat down and decided it was about that time for a new blog.
I’m home tonight, for the first Thursday night I’ve been in San Diego in probably 6 months. Previous to tonight I was batting about .933 for going to the legendary Moon Doggies on any given Thursday night.
Probably asking your self why I’m home tonight? Why is tonight different?

Could it be:
A.) The city is under attack by giant sea creatures and they are blocking your route to the bar?

B.) Your ex girlfriend is at the bar hanging out with all your friends

or

C.) I’m tired of drinking and acting irresponsible

Actually the answer is none of the above. Here’s why:
A.) Not even a 263 foot tall octopus shooting lasers out of it’s eyes could stop me from going to Moon Doggies on Thursday. See below:

B.) This is something I don’t even want to talk about. Nor can I because all my friends read this blog and it’s one of those too close to home topics. Hurray!
And I’m probably going to get in trouble just for mentioning anything about it. Hurray!

C.) HAHA! I can be so funny sometimes

Actually I’m home tonight for a couple reasons. One, my liver still hates me from New Years eve. A lot. And two, it’s part of my New Years resolutions? Question Mark?
I made some resolutions this year and figure today was a pretty good day to start. This year my resolutions will be:

1.) Be less fat

2.) Save more(any) money

3.) Be more Artsy

4.) Write something?

1.) Be less fat – Pretty self explanatory. I used to be able to run a 4:35 mile, now I get winded up walking the stairs at work. I eat out every meal every day. It cost a lot and is probably pretty unhealthy. I went to the grocery store yesterday and went grocery shopping, it was probably only the 3^rd time I’ve been grocery shopping since moving to San Diego a year and a half ago. Awesome. To motivate me I’m posting a “before” photo.

2.) I’m bad at this. I make a decent amount of money and in “theory” should be able to save money, but I would guess 70 percent of my expendable income goes towards drinking of some kind. Is that bad? I feel the need to buy everyone and there mom a drink when I’m at the bar. It’s because I can, but I guess from now on I won’t be? Doubtful, anyone that knows me, knows free drinks. Think this one will be the hardest one to keep, I’m a very giving person. All I need is enough.

3.) I used to be more photograph artsy back in the day. Well not artsy, but know what people think artsy is. I don’t consider myself to have any type of artistic abilities, BUT I do know what people interpret as artistic. Lighting, perspective, dynamic subject, yada yada. People that say they took a photo that captures their inner child escaping from the darkness of solitude, are dumb.

4.) Write something? How does that work? I’d like to write something. Maybe like a screen play or book or article or something. I was watching super bad, and thinking that is exactly something I could have written. Clever, ridiculous, witty, awkward humor stuff. How do I do that? Can anyone help?

Enough lameness, now to the real reason why YOU are hopefully still reading this blog. You want to hear about something ridiculous that I did, sure, who doesn’t.

NEW YEARS EVE 2008!!

How the year began for me. . . .To be honest, I don’t really remember. It was blurry, tasted like tequila and definitively didn’t involve me making out with a girl at midnight (at least pretend to be shocked). But I’m skipping like 12 steps of how I got to the new year, let me jump back a few paces.

So my Friends decide they want to go this event being hosted down town at this hotel called the Witherby. I had never heard of it, but I’m not a big fan of down town.
Turns out this event down town was fancy pants for sure. The cover was 160 dollars. That’s right my friends 160 dollars!? What the F!? Not I didn’t get a BJ, or HJ, or even a ZJ for this wack amount. It was inclusive(so I thought!) of drinks and entrance, but still 160 dollars!? Since all my friends were going there, it’s not like I couldn’t not not (yeah I did a triple negative) go. What else was I going to do?
Had a friend visiting, so we both bought tickets to this event, thinking for 160 dollars we both better get at least HJ’s when we walk in.

Event is set to start at 8:30pm, my friend and I get all fancy pants up and head down town at 8:30 sharp. Fuck it, if I’m paying a lot I’m going to maximize my drinking time, like any responsible adult.

We are one of the first one’s in of course and head straight for the bar. We then begin to start making predictions about the “type” of girl that we can expect to be attending this type of event. Results of our analysis were not good. We determined it was going to be tough night to find ladies. Not that it’s ever easy, but the math wasn’t in our favor.

About my second trip to the bar (at this point it’s still pretty empty and early on in the night) a girl, yes you heard me right, a girl approached me and we started making some chit chat. Which I think I’m pretty good at, I make the jokes and the ha ha, and the what not. Not to be a jerk, but I am for the purposes of making laughs for this blog, this girl I was talking to was about a 6. I mean a six is great, in the engineering world she would be about 8.5 or a 9. And I’m no ten, or 9 or 8 or -3, actually I don’t know what I am, but at this point after making nice conversation ,for some reason I felt like I needed to say my goodbyes and “throw this fish back in the sea”.

I was feeling pretty good about myself, real fucking confident like I had brought my “A” game tonight. I mean I had only been there about twenty minutes and already I had 6’s approaching ME. Sixes! Girls never approach me. I walked back to the group and they were impressed that talking to a girl at the bar, it’s a pretty big deal for me. Some of the friends said I was an idiot and I should have latched onto her for the next 3.5 hours to lock in the midnight kiss, another guy gave me his words of wisdom.
“first you plant the seeds,
then you let the seeds grow, you water the plan, check up on it everyone once and a while,
Then you fuck you plant”
Deep words from a wise friend. But he couldn’t have been more wrong.

On any note I had a good feeling about the night and was optimistic about meeting girls. Little could I had foreseen she would be the only person I actually spoke too, out side our group of friends.

The night continues with me consuming a lot of alcohol, I mean a lot. I don’t really remember much after 11:30, but here’s what I do recall.

Apparently I kept asking my friend “where my plant went?” and was swimming through the crowd of people yelling “Six!? Where are you six!?”

HAHA! Really? I guess. It’s completely possible.

Count down to midnight was extremely anticlimactic, when the clock struck zero I was a few feet off the dance floor watching my friend make out with an Amazon. Slightly jealous, not of his Amazon, but of the midnight kiss cliché thing. I don’t think I’ve had the midnight kiss in a long long time. Maybe next year. Night winds down with mass consumption of alcohol. Apparently at 1:30 the bar is longer free. How did I find this out? When my buddy and I go up order some shots, take said shots, and the bar tender casually mentions that’ll be 24 dollars. WHAT!? My friend, being the outstanding gentleman that he is, booked for the door. Literally. He was gone. I was standing there, drunk and confused, I start making my escape when I get stopped about 15 feet by some giant of a guy who said in a firm voice “SIR, that’ll be 24 dollars”. “ohhhh, 24 dollars? I thought he was calling us Minty Ballers”. I paid the douche his money and made my escape to the street.
This is where things get super blurry.

Walking to a taxi, my friend told me I disappeared for about twenty minutes. When I returned he told me that I told him, that I had met a girl, walked her to her hotel and made out with her in front of her elevator. HAHA! First of all, this is probably false. What probably happened was I saw someone eating a burrito, chased them down the street, and got lost. I mean anything possible.
Is it bad I can’t remember? I haven’t had one of those nights in a while.
Happy New Year. Next blog will be more focused on a topic with pictures and probably funnier. I promise.

Craig’s List All Stars 2.0

***********Old blog,  back posting********
From: Friday, January 18, 2008

Since the last blog about Craig’s list postings didn’t turn out so bad, decided to milk the topic and do it again. Hopefully this one turns out to be more than garbage. Doubtful I know, but worth a try

This first one is a little bit of creeper.

It’s the oldest trick in the book. The old bait and switch. Like when your parents used to tell you that you were going to zoo to ride the hippos, but you were actually going to the dentist. It’s like that, but with this guy there’s a chance you might end up in little pieces.

This next one is “the best there is, period”. This ass clown’s ad caught my eye because it was titled “I am the best there is, period”, such a bold statement. I had to find out what made this guy the best. . . . .

“I am looking for a friends with benefits”, really!? Can guys just say this?
He might as well of said “I am looking for Chlamydia ASAP!”
He posted his myspace link, so I decided to do some hard core sleuthing into the best there is. This is where I discovered our friend was a masseuse who makes a 10.34 an hour. Bling bling! I’m not looking down on him because he makes 10 dollars an hour, it’s more the fact he wrote a blog bragging about this fact. WHAT!? Don’t do that. Don’t talk about how much money you make or don’t make. TOOL BOX. Period.

This one is the bread winner, I almost didn’t do this one because I fear my life if he were to find out I was making fun of this Craig’s list ad. But there is a chance he’s already in jail(no really, read below), and I don’t think they let people in jail read myspace blogs.
Heres the ad(no joking, no editing, no shit)

**insert slow clap here
Yeah, that just happened.
Let’s break this down piece by piece. I’ll just highlight a few key sections.

Starting with the title:
“got2go2court 2moro got a dum ass warnt so js incase wasup – 29″

Say what? I did a spell checker on “got2go2court2moro” and surprisingly it didn’t show up. I’m going to need to send an email to Microsoft, to see if they can add that to their vocabulary.

I think this fine young man is trying to say he has a court appearance tomorrow because he has a “dum ass” warrant and this post is just in case. Also he ads in “wasup” at the end. Classy. If that doesn’t capture the ladies attention, I don’t know what will.

“looking perhaps 4 a last lil hera just incase they deside not 2 let me come back home 2moro,plus iv got 2 move out shit just keeps getting wors,looking for someone to help me forget about all the bullshit iv got a pool tabel and a spot dont know 4 how long”

Better act quick! You could be this guys last “hera” as a free member of society. After that it’s only congenial visits. But apparently he has a pool table, so that’s good.

“how could a braud not b atracted to the valumpuis curves and hour glass figure that a thurolly bread lushus lishis tender morsul flaunts with such pride and confidence.”

This is where I get confused. The first time I read this I read “valumpuis” as vampires, and it really didn’t make sense. But then I went back and realized he meant voluptuous, which got me thinking….what the fuck!? Is he saying he’s voluptuous and has an hour glass figure? Seems like. Something about bread? Maybe it makes more sense if he was talking about vampires.

“ummm yyyuummm aaahhh the thaughts that come to mined,any hoot let me know if iv rased any intrest wat so ever,i promis ill bite ,ofcourse unless u dont wish me 2 ,thow i cant promis that i wont try to atleast sneak in a nibble”

At some point he begins eating something delicious and types out the sounds. Or so I gather. He then mentions biting some more, and at this point I am totally convinced he WAS talking about vampires.

“yyyaaaiii iiieeee yyyaaaiii de parte de svjohnybz followed by choptop then spot all 1 word at mail thats hot,without the sv in front in order to better get a hold of mwa i anckshesly await your responce o ya i stay with a wood roomate whos allso lonely i need to get that fool lade before he explodes,so feal free to shoot over with a freind race isnt an ishu”

You had me at “yyyaaaiii iiieeee yyyaaaiii”. . . .
If anyone can tell me what he meant by “svjohnybz”, that would be much appreciated.
This last part gets kind of crazy kind of quick. It’s actually impossible to decode. I’m pretty sure he just starts banging the keyboard with his court sepenia at this point in the ad.

Whew. Well there it is. It’s currently 2:45am on Monday morning and I have to be at work by 8:30. INSOMNIA sucks. Bad for me, good for the blogs.

Speaking of, I’ve become increasingly trying to whore out my blogs more and more.
Here’s my logic. People seem to “like” the blogs and get some chuckles from them. So why not share that joy with as many people as possible. I mean you like them, you’re friends will like them, etc etc. Basically I’m asking YOU to tell your friends to read this ridiculousness. Post a bulletin spreading the word. It’s the least you could do. Well, actually the least you could do is nothing, this would be the second most leastest(I know it’s not a word, fuck you, it’s 3am) thing you could do.

Craig’s List All Stars 1.0

Craig List.  Where else on the internet can you find a job,  get free fill dirt, buy a urine soaked coach AND get a date!? Craig’s List! It baffles me the number of douche bags who post shirtless photos of themselves with posting titles like “hey guuuuurl”, and think “Yep, I’m gonna get so much ass. I’m talking like boy bad ass”.  They’re begging for me to make fun of them….

I would like to start with, yes I am going to be a sarcastic jerk when talking about the following post, but I think it’s fair. If someone somewhere around the world wanted to take something I’ve posted online and write a funny rant about what a douche bag I am, more power to them. Also I’m banking on the people I write about will never ever find out.

First one up is Chesty Mcgee.

I actually really hope this guy doesn’t find out I’m making fun of him, as he could tear of my arms with his neck muscles.
Next one I call Liar Liar Pants on Fire

I saw this one and jumped with glee at the idea of making fun of this ass clown.
If you’re going to flat out lie on your posting at least make it a good lie.
He claims to be the son of a fortune 500 Business owner and is seeking a woman to live a life of luxury. . . . . like really?

This guy obviously thought out his super genius plan to get girls on Craig’s list prior to posting. I applaud his effort, but unfortunately for him I will use my super powers of cynical sarcasm and my GIFT OF SIGHT to shoot holes in his flawless Craig’s list posting.

I’m going to go sentence by sentence through Richey Rich’s posting to show you just where he went wrong.

“Hello, ladies i am currently the son of a furtune 500 Bussiness owner and I need a women who is ready to spend the life of luxury.”

Apparently, being a the son of a “Furtune”(look it up asshole, it’s spelt FORTUNE) 500 company he was unable to find a computer that has spell checker. Which is odd because I’m pretty sure that it started coming standard on computers made after 1993.
Also he mentions that he is “currently the son”, like as if tomorrow, magically, he won’t still be the son of this “fortune” 500 company. One thing I am sure of:
You are currently an idiot.

“I know you might be confused at first, but you will get used to the change quickly as money has the power to do so.”

He claims your small girl brains may be confused at first, but don’t worry ladies, it’s nothing that the power of money can’t fix. What I think is going to be most confusing to the ladies is why he picks them up in a Geo Metro for their date.

“so act fast as i will go through the process very quickly. Beauty is what i am looking for. So a picture is a must less is better..”

Nothing to grand about this last sentence besides the spelling mistakes and poor grammar, but you better act fast before you lose out on such a great opportunity! Be sure to send pics! But I hope not too many reply, as it will jam up his dial up connection.

Get excited. Here comes the best part. Dude says:
“here’s a picture of me at my place..”

Here is my analysis. . . . .

I’m actually really curious as to how many girls fall for this post and respond to him with hopes of living a life of luxury.
Got me thinking. Maybe I should post up something like this. Claiming something ridiculous and see who responds. Example A . . . . . . .(a fake post I made up)

Well I was going to pick out a few more Craig’s list postings, but I think I’ll stop for today. Perhaps if this was a hit I shall continue with my analysis of CL postings. Let me know, comment so.

So ironically with all this Craig’s list talk about how people create ridiculous posting to attract girls, I need a date.  Apparently there’s some semi formal company dinner thing December 8^th, that I am needing a date for. A lot of the “cool” kids from work are going and it should be a good time, so I went ahead and got two tickets in over confidence I can find someone to go with before then.

Now we all know how well it worked out last time when I made a pathetic plea for a date for Disneyland. . . . I’m not actually asking for a date, but if someone, in theory were free that day and would like a free delicious meal and drinks they should probably let me know.

If not, I got a back up date of taking Mrs. Durst. My friends mom. Seriously.Yeah should be a good time.

Drinking Insurance

***********old blog, back posting*************

So as all of us red blooded Americans know, a couple weeks ago was the fantastic holiday of 4^th of July. Historically we know this as the day we teamed up with Will Smith to beat the aliens.
Actually, I’m sorry, I was trying to impress you. I don’t know what it means. I’ll be honest, I don’t think anyone knows what it means anymore. Scholars maintain that the translation was lost hundreds of years ago. . . .

I had a fantastic 4^th of July. A friend was hosting a celebrations of celebrations down in Mission Bay, sporting 1500 jello shots, tons o beer and the promise of good times to be had by all. At this annual event someone is crowned “King Of The Bay”, this prestigious award goes to most ridiculous drunk fool in attendance. Candidates are identified early and someone volunteers to be your “sponsors”. Sponsors are responsible for making sure their candidate for King of the Bay gets as drunk as possible and acts a fool. I was obviously identified early because of my great drinking potential and taken in by last years King of the Bay. Tough shoes to fill, this guy was passed out and puking on himself 11:00am. He tried his hardest, passing me jello shot after jello shot, beer after beer, but unfortunately(thankfully?) I didn’t win this years title as King Of The Bay. That went to co-worker and friend Ryan, who was crowned for his bear like ability to drunk tackle people. I think it’s for the better. There’s always next year?

Although. . . . I did find out my camera is not water proof. Yeah. It’s true. I discovered this shortly after going swimming in the ocean. ISH!
This is when I decided I needed:

But seriously. They have insurance for fire, water damage and earth quakes, but not for drunk “freak” accidents? I’m willing to bet more stuff has been broken, lost, dropped into drinks, or accidentally taken into ocean then fire and water damage combined.

I will gladly pay a monthly premium to said insurance company if they’re willing to cover me for my drunk shenanigans. Although I’m sure my monthly rate would be pretty high since I’m probably considered an extremely high risk liability. Probably equivalent to the guy that’s had 4 DUI’s and 8 speeding tickets trying to get driving insurance. The monthly rate would probably be based on how often you go out a week, drinks had a night and the number of times you’ve woken up with carne asada in your pockets.
The insurance claim would look like this:

See. Simple as pie. Bada Bing, Bada Boom. I submit the paper work, drinking insurance company gives me a new phone, or camera and it’s a win/win situation. Right?

ALSO, I want to be compensated for NON-monetary things.

Such as drunk text messages and drunk dials I made the night before. You heard me:
I want to be paid restitution for drunk dials and drunk text made.

I wake up in the morning, typically on my friends couch with my shoes on, and the first thing going through my head is “who did I text/dial” and “what did I say”. How sweet would it be, to actually get compensation based on my level of embarrassment that I feel from my drunken text/dials from the night before? Not only would it be based on the number of different drunk text/dials sent, but content as well.

For example:

So there it is. This is what I want. All I want is to be covered for my stupid actions when I drink. Not too much to ask?

Bathroom Humor

* note this blog uses the word urinal and urine like a thousand times, if this grosses you out please stop reading and click this link.

Last Thursday was a great day. I pulled the classic Ferris Bueller, which includes skipping work to drink beer and go to a Padres game. Afterwards we made our way to an Irish pub, had some car bombs and more drinks. We got hungry and visited the ever classy KFC, p.s. I LOVE KFC, where I proceeded to smash sweet sweet fried chicken into my fat face. Ended the night at Moondoggies 2 dollar you call it’s, of course. A great F-ing day.

For those of you that know me, know me, know I have the bladder of a 12 year old girl while drinking. So since Thursday was a heavy drinking day , I probably went to the restroom a total of 103 times, and that’s probably a modest estimate. Since I was spending so much time in the restroom it gave me opportunity to make some general observations and scientific analysis about men’s restrooms. Please enjoy.

During the 5^th inning of the Padres game I went to restroom, walked up to the urinal and started doing my business as normal. Shortly after a man with a girl atop his shoulders walked up and started peeing next to me. She must have been at least 14 years old, actually I exaggerate, she was probably about 5 years old. This got me thinking at what age is it not socially “okay” to bring your daughter into the restroom? I know it’s kind of a rough spot being the “Dad” and having to take your daughter to the restroom, and really the only reason why this thought crossed my mind was because she started making comments to the extent of:
“Daddy I can see your pee pee”

Awkward.

At this point I was force to lean dangerous close to urinal just to protect my massive(ha) junk from this young and impressionable girl who was sneaking peaks from a birds eye view. For those ladies who may be unfamiliar, there exist such safe zones in which one can stand from the urinal in which he can be safe from the hazards of peeing. Hazards of peeing you ask? You have no ideas the dangers we put ourselves through on a daily bases.


This got me thinking even deeper. Well you know, for as deep as I can think.

How much could those dividers between the urinals possible cost? I mean they provide for such a better bathroom experience yet somehow in today’s world of lasers and clear Pepsi, some bathrooms STILL don’t have these 5 dollar pieces of wood between the urinals!? I just don’t understand. Don’t get me wrong, I have no phobia or paranoia about peeing in front of other dudes, it’s just the fact that given the choice of urinal divider or not, I pick divider. It provides for a more comfortable pee. Some of you may think I’m being ridiculous, well I think it’s ridiculous that they spend millions of dollars making a building but can’t spend 10 dollars per restroom to provide for a better peeing experience. Absurd I say!
This is it.

This is my purpose in life.

I know why I was put on this earth. I was put here to raise awareness about and find a cure for UDD, Urinal Divider Dysfunction. Together we can fight UDD and the millions of restrooms suffering from it. UDD has been crippling social awkward pee-ers for decades. Forcing them to use the stalls, or making them pretend they have to go any more and in some cases holding in pee until there bladder explodes and they die a terrible terrible urine death. NO MORE I say, no more. Today starts my campaign:
“In Divider We trust”
A divider for every bathroom!

But I digress.

Moral of the story is, if you build a fucking building put in urinal dividers. Please.

Later in the night I made my way to happiest place on earth, yeah that’s right, Moondoggies. Thursday nights is best night to be alive. Two dollar you call it’s, plus good friends equals a greeeeat night. While standing in line, for what seemed to be hours, I made some obvious observations about several of the idiots pee-ing. No I wasn’t standing there with pencil and paper watching dudes pee, though that is funny to think about and would have surely gotten me uppercutted, I was just casually drunk swaying thinking about the different type of urinal users.

There’s more, but I’m lazy.
Hopefully I captured the men’s restroom for all its glory.Not sure if women will find this comical, hopefully the guys can relate?

Let me know thoughts, feelings, concerns.

First Dates

So here’s the situation:
As we all know online dating is a bust. A hilarious hilarious bust. Yeah laugh it up. Anyways. . .the good news is, me writing about online dating and observational humor about girls is working out much better. I’ve meet more people through myspace, than I have through match and eharmony combined times two.

*Here’s a little fun fact:
About two weeks ago I posted a Craig’s list in Men Seeking Women. All it was, was one of my blogs and at the top I wrote “You could be dating this funny, normal guy with a job and a sweet car!?”. No pictures of me, no description of me, nothing about me, all it said was my age. I got about 15 responses. I don’t know if this is good, bad or average, but I thought that was a lot. So here’s the thing, so some of them seem normal enough to continue with the chit chat via email, we get to the point of exchanging myspaces(I know like third base right), and then communication seems to stop. Always. Seized, haulted, just stopped. For about the five I was emailing to, all five seem to taper off as soon as myspaces were exchanged. Interesting? Any hypothesis? Just something to chew on.

So yes, I’ve been meeting some people through myspace. And I’ve been going out and doing “things” in the real life with said people. Some, just a few, might call these encounters dates. Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t.

In the last month I’ve been on 5 first dates. That’s right 5. This number may not seem like a lot for you casual daters out there, but please consider it’s me, and this number is extraordinarily high going based on pass history since moving to San Diego. Out of these 5 first dates, I would say I’ve only gone on one second date. Only 20 percent return rate? I mean I had a great time on all 5 of these dates. . . .

Resume
I mean I had a great time on all 5 of these dates, I actually had a lot of fun with all of them. Did they not with me? Doubtful, I mean I’m awesome. Just kidding. But seriously.

Then why only a 1 in 5 chance of second date-age?
Here’s the truth. I don’t want to go on first dates. Well I mean I want to go on A first date, but I don’t want to go one five different first dates. I would have rather of gone out with the same girl five times. Does that make sense?NOT that I regret going out with any of the people I did, no no. Not at all.

Side note: I wouldn’t qualify myself as “dating” anyone right now. That requires multiple dates and making out.

So how did I get myself into the predicament of 5 first dates? I did some heavy analysis and number crunching and I came up with:
I suck.
I suck I suck I suck. I go out on “date” it’s a great time, I think, and then BAM,radio silence. Not because I don’t like said person, but because I’m insecure Ian and not sure if they have an interest in me. So how do I remedy this? I play captain cool pants and don’t do a thing. Nice.

Looking back in my college days, I can’t recall a “first date”. I don’t even think I went on a first date. Things were so much different back then, at least in my dating world.

Maybe I’m just freaking out? Maybe there is supposed to be big gaps between first and second dates? I know it’s my fault for lack of initiative, which is odd because I am captain initiative. At work I tear ish up with initiative, anyone who knew me in college knew I was president of everything and captain go getter, but it seems like girls are my kryptonite. I’m not sure really where I was going with this blog, I actually regret not writing about my New York adventures. Seems like that would have been a better read. Fuck it. You can’t win them all.