Wednesdays never seemed so sweet, I wonder if they're gay...

When I looked really closely at a duck near work I felt something. I’m not Buddhist, nor do I believe in reincarnation (fully, part of me wants to hope I can come back and do it again if I’ve been a good boy) but when I looked in his eyes I felt him saying “F*ck you, why am I a duck?” Then he swam off to the other side of the pond.

Why did Looney Tunes make the idea of slapping people so appealing? It doesn’t matter who I’m talking to (except my girlfriend… wink) I would find it incredibly amusing to slap them back to the moment they first burst from the womb mid-sentence. Of course I’ll give you an example:
(a man is at a urinal when another man approaches the urinal beside him)
1: Hey Peter.
2: (Good Morning) Dan.
1: Say, did you see the new intern?
2: Oh, she was dynamite!
1: Pow! Right?
2: (SLAPS THE EVER LOVING SWEET TASTE OF MAMA’S HOMEMADE PIES WITH CHERRY ON TOP OUT OF MAN #1’S CRAW WITH D*CK STILL DANGLING CAUSE THERE WAS NO TIME TO ZIP…*takes a breath*… CAUSE IF THE TIMING WASN’T FLAWLESS THEN WHY THE F*CK WOULD HE SLAP THE BLACK OFF HIS ITALIAN FRIEND MAN #1? )End.

Whew, now where were we? Ah, nowhere. Moving right along then (oh that reminds me to watch the Muppet Movie next chance I get).

Yesterday I sat down and watched Loaded on FUSE. How long does it take for people to get over beating a young pop singer until she is damn near unrecognizable? The answer: 107 days. The Grammy’s were February 08, 2009.

Squidish Love Pocket, there I’m glad I’ve got that out of my system.

Terminator Salvation kicked more ass than the Asskickatron 9000, which was built by the finest asskickphysicians, designed for style. Just remember it’s the Terminator. People keep talking to me about it like they went in expecting Pride and Prejudice and were bombarded with explosions and testosterone. Go expecting to pay more than you should to sit in an unsanitized seat. Plan on buying a soda but get the Icee because that is liquid crack. Get some nachos because you’re cheap and don’t want to experiment on the pizzas that AMC is now selling for some d*ck suck worthy price. Go grab a seat by some fat man and your good buddy ____. You’ll see some good previews, some that make you smile and whisper “I think the fat man next to me passed gas… but that trailer looks good too.” Other trailers will make you soft. And by the time the credits roll you’ll be holding a fist full o’ big black nuts wondering why you didn’t go to the bathroom during the movie. You’ll know why, because if you moved you might have missed a stern face, a Christian Bale superstar close-up or a boob… there were no boobs for those that will purchase a ticket to see one. Side note: Will Nelson and I peed, a man came up behind him and didn’t wait for him to be finished before he unbuckled and began to “unsheathe his sword.” The look on Nelson’s face was priceless, the look on mine… satisfaction. Damn that was a good movie.

Earlier this morning I had a discussion, I’d forgotten how compassionate women can be so the conversation was cut off at the knees. Rather than go on a tangent forever I’ll just leave you with a thought: I little girl has just died from a tragic accident. You are the doctor who has the task of telling her family that she is gone. Before you head out the door you glance at the name… Exodus Tyson. You look out the door and see that Mike Tyson is awaiting the news. How much do you $#!T yourself? I would personally rather wrestle with a Tiger. Nuff’ said.

It was a shorty (blog-wise) type day. Hopefully I’ll have more stuff and Lord knows I kinda feel like performing this week(gasp, I better write a joke or two).

Peaces

An Interview with a vampire...

Let me start by saying that I appreciate the folks searching Tyler Richardson blog or whatever is getting you here now that I’m no longer on the blog roll list-a-majig on DCStandup.com (see, I still show him love… I’m growing up). Now let’s get to a much needed dose of insanity that we’ve so sorely lacked the past week shall we? An interview with a vampire… name Rudolph.

Interviewer: Hello, may we start the interview with your name?
Vampire: My name is Rudolph…Rudolph Hidalgo… it’s popular among Bulgarian whores. And that is what my mother did. She was a mistress of the night. My name is Rudolph.
Interview: Umm… mkay. Rudolph…
R: Hidalgo.
I: Would you prefer I said the whole thing together.
R: No.
I: M’kay… well…
R: I hunger.
I: I don’t know what to say to that, I have Subway in my bag but I don’t you like the chicken parm.
R: Too sweet.
I: You’ve tried it?
R: No, but I trust everything Hell’s Kitchen has ever said. Reality television makes me ooze.
I: I’d love to get to my first question, not to interrupt.
R: But you did.
I: …
R.: The question, give it to me.
I: How old are you?
R: When George Washington went off to fight in your war, I dusted off his wife’s pu-nay-nay.
I: Oh.
R: Do you know what I mean? Some call it pudding. I’ve even heard it referred to as muff or clam.
I: I think we’re on the same page.
R: Squidish love pocket. That’s my favorite.
I: … I don’t think I’ve ever heard it called that before.
R: I’m 517 years old on May 15, 2001.
I: So, you’re 525.
R: I love the foreplay of mathematics.
I: Is it warmer in this room than you thought it would be? I’m boiling, and please take no offense, but I’m not taking off any layers with a vampire in the room.
R: No offense could be taken from a Jew.
I: Wow.
R: What, did I touch a nerve?
I: That anti-semite remark just came out of nowhere and caught me off guard. You, of course know that I’m not Jewish....
R: Really?… well that curlish man-fro you’ve got there and the stink of Auschwitz all over you... I was fooled.
I: My God…
R: Why don’t you ask me something unexpected?
I: Okay, when is the last time you wept?
R: Yesterday.
I: Care to tell me why?
R: First give me a food that you would compare to the taste of your lover’s crotch… like say a pomegranate?
I: That’s personal.
R: Well so is why I wept.
I: That’s fair…
R: I saw a white man with a black woman.
I: I’m sorry, what?
R: I saw a white man with a black woman and all I could think was “He don’t even know what to do wit all dat. Let a real n*gga have a taste.”
I: You’re white.
R: I know.
I: *cough* This is weird, so let me just wrap this whole thing up…
R: Consider it wrapped.
I: Even that was weird.
R: No weirder than watching me make love.
I: M’kay, well… would you say that the life of a vampire is a lonely endless walk through time, completely lacking any real emotional contact?
R: Or?
I: Or nothing, I just wanted to take a shot there. My wife is black.
R: Oh, may I see a picture?
I: I don’t think so. I feel like I should just go. Is that alright?
R: Of course; Before you leave, would you mind helping me move this cabinet. Without friends tasks like these are a bit difficult.
I: Okay… (after moving) I hate to ruin my chances but are you really going to let me go? You’ve been pretty awkward and everything in my tingles of rape…
R: I don’t eat Jews Adam.
I: I’m not Jewish… hey, I never told you my name…
R: Didn’t need to, I’ve been around long enough to do some homework before welcoming you into my home. To be honest I had every intention of sucking the life out of you up until 2 PM this after noon.
I: What happened then? I was still at work.
R: You didn’t wash your hands after you clearly spilled urine on them. That’s just gross Adam, that’s just gross. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to burn the chair you sat in.

THE END

Well, until tomorrow’s blog (I promise) I’ve gotta run. I don’t know why but I have “I Want You Back” by NSYNC stuck in my head.

Peaces

Real friends pack extra ruffies...

*Friday’s Posting will start, then we’ll finish with today’s because I’m lazy and you deserve it.*

It could be due to how tired I am right now, but for some reason I really to get a piggyback ride for the rest of the day. “Sherman, I’m hungry… to Chicago.” For those with an active imagination, don’t picture Sherman as a huge man. Instead, picture a man half my size, because it tickles me. Very similar to how sometimes I’ll try to Boogie board on my dog Max, who is all of 9 lbs.

Mission Accomplished: My woman said “Boo Butter.” And, it felt… phenomenal.

I believe that someday time travel will be possible. How else would someone know they could actually make money by selling products such as “Tic Tac Toss, Hungry Hungry Hippos, Don’t Wake Daddy and THE Slip and Slide”?

Dear SonicBids,

You almost made me cry yesterday because you wouldn’t let me upload a video of me doing the Macarena. Good news though, I found a way and the new Internet sensation will be born. Black guy does other people’s dances is coming at ya. Next week: The Charleston.

Tomato soup is nothing more than a bowl of the devil’s tears.

After watching (a day late, but I kept to myself yesterday) the LOST two hour season finale last night I went outside and picked up the biggest rock I could. I was so overcome with excitement that I bludgeoned the first person I saw to death. It was that f***ing good!

There may not be anything about rape (giggity) but there is plenty of humor in watching someone with a baby in there hands fall. It’s just funny…

Listening to A Milli always make me hate being at work. I’m not sure what correlation they have with each other but I feel like it’s because it makes me want to dance… and get violent.

While talking about ethics “and things” with Sean Paul yesterday, we concluded that All That was a terrible show. Speaking of Mr. Ellis, his show is tonight at 7:45 tonight at the Comedy Spot… be there or be dead.

*Fast Forward to Tuesday, May 19, 2009 aka Malcolm X’s birthday*

Today I turned 26, and now that it’s a reality I don’t mind getting over the “20 something” halfway marker. Here’s to the next year…

Jack Bauer kicked so much ass on last night's 24 season finale it hurts to $#!T. Bless you Keifer Sutherland, the video of you trying to stop that Christmas tree from attacking Brooke Shields still makes me laugh. But if you say I need to attack a bear with you, then a bear is catching a foot to the nads. 143 Keifer, 143...

I really don’t have much today… just happy. Thanks to everyone that wished a happy b-day and tomorrow I will try to have something worthwhile to speak of.

Peaces

Nah son, that's my condom, see the skin in it?

It’s Wednesday, we’re halfway through the week so let’s start with a list of random things that make me laugh:

The Blue Oyster Bar song from Police Academy. When the trumpet first hits and the cadet looks into the eyes and mustache of the biker he’s dancing with… well, you can feel the love tonight.

Dirty Dancing; I grind my hips against my mother more when I kiss her good-bye. That ain’t dirty. But oh Patrick Swayze, you’ve still got it… cancer and all, you’ve got rhythm.

This quote from The Ringer (you know the Johnny Knoxville movie) “Do it again and you'll be admiring my butt from the pavement with a straw.” I bought that movie on Sunday afternoon just because of that quote.

Yesterday at lunch my friend Christian and I went back and forth on whether a man (who is CLEARLY GAY) is gay or not. Every time I made a point Christian would point out that he did something or wore something just like what I was pointing out. The more flamboyant my examples the harder I laughed when he was like “I’m sitting with my ankles crossed right now… I put a fork up just like that… I have glasses that look like that too!” He is a big dude but I couldn’t help laughing in his face.

Sounds like the woman next to me isn’t covering her mouth when she sneezes… oops, there’s nothing funny about that, sigh. SWINE.

When Jared goes to heaven, do you think he can stop shamelessly plugging Subway? Honestly, I feel like the afterlife clause is in the fine print… J

While getting breakfast I got to use any angry black man phrase. A Latina began describing something to me and I was completely confused about why she was talking to me. She was a stranger. Then she smiles and says “Oh sorry, I meant him.” When I turned it was a man named Geoffrey (pronounced G-off-ri)… this man looks nothing like me. About 4 minutes later she smiled and apologized because of the mix-up. I casually said “It’s cool I understand, we’re both black.” Then I walked away without a smile or attitude, as though I had just told her the time “It’s 4:15.” It felt f***ing sweet. I think I may have just looked like a dick to everyone around me though… oh well.

The word “Marmalade”.

Karate Jesus… nuff said.

Singing the Gummi Bears theme song as a 25 (OMG I’m 26 next Tuesday) year old man.

This was a shorty, but perhaps tomorrow there will be something of substance… probably not though.

Peaces

It was a fun weekend...

Well, what can I say about the weekend that isn’t summed up by the photo above. Courtney brought the funny, and was black. I tried not to ruin the flow of the evening… and was also black. Eric Schwartz was really cool and I always respect someone that can kill and stay clean… and he was bald. Thought I was going to say something else didn’t you? I’m as unpredictable as a Chipotle $#!T.

Today I was making a joke to a couple of friends about a dead co-worker’s fiancé… I’ll spare the details but it was hilarious (oh, my soul hurts). Anyway, we came around a corner on the complete opposite side of the building and were face to face with said co-worker… everyone stopped laughing and that was a dead give away. I’m not proud of everything I do and say, but I can’t change who I am. Love me…

I’ve had that Sinead O’Connor song “Nothing compares to you” stuck in my head for the better part of 48 hours. So this is what hell is like, damn these… (what are they called again? Oh yeah) emotions.

I’m happy to announce that my system is completely clean of any badness (use your imagination… and no, I’m not on crack, sadly that was my mother’s first guess when I was 19). I’m running for mayor…

Dear Murray’s Hair Grease person,

My name is Tyler Richardson and would like to take a moment of your time. First, let me say “thank you.” It was not until I met a man whose waves made me so jealous I had to sit him down and pluck his brain (and waves) to find out how I could be beautiful too that I knew you’re sweet touch. But, once I’d lathered up my palms full of your sweet nectar, I knew that I’d never use Sportin’ Waves again. Before your hair gel I was 5’1, 98 lbs. and had never kissed a woman. Now that I am beautiful and “silky smooth”( – The Zohan) I’m 7’3, 875 lbs. and get so much p*ssy even my mother calls me “Mo B*tches.” I have you to thank for that. I was being mugged the other night and when they stuck the gun in my back I spun around and grease flew of my waves and blinded the would-be thugs. I kept my favorite wallet full of my nice credit cards and that hooligan will never see again, at least according to the doctors. Plus, I kicked the $#!T out of his nuts for pointing a gun at me, you know I keep it real gangsta. Anyway, I don’t wanna pole jock too hard or nuffin’, see how my slang has improved thanks to your grease, so I’m a bounce. Thanks again, and stop snitchin’. One

Gangsta Jesus… Nelson’s going to draw it and I’m going to wear the shirt because the image is too hilarious for me to describe. Remember, God created humor… he’s got one too.

For any readers with T-Mobile, do not buy their Equipment Protection Plan. After many conversations and wasted energy I found out that even though I’ve paid for that for the past four years… it is in fact wallet rape. They took my money with a promise to love me. Then when I told them my phone is acting funny, they give me the run around with talk of a “claim” and wanted me to install my own trackball (for those without a BlackBerry, it’s important). Now I know how an innocent young woman feels when she goes out with a sweet guy who turns into Chester the Molester. T-Mobile asked me kindly to open my wallet, and when I did, they placed their penis in it and starting ramming without a care. They didn’t care how much it hurt, that I needed lube or that I have a new boyfriend named AT&T who is going to treat me a lot better shortly. And what really hurts is that I loved them. T-Mobile, you broke my heart. I’m going to get my new boyfriend to slit your tires.

Atif, I’m excited that you finally have Gears 2, sorry I got so busy this weekend. But perhaps tonight after I see my babycakes or tomorrow night where I finally get to come straight home and chillax I can give you a tour. Practice up Atif, we go to war… and in war there is no such thing as a condom. That doesn’t make sense, but you know what I mean… it’s gonna be fun.

When I took my momula (mother) and grannyikens (grandma) out to a Japanese steakhouse I felt good. I greeted them with roses and got big hugs and kisses. How did my mother repay me? After I said “Order whatever you like” I proceeded to get the most expensive meal in the joint. When the chef (I hope that’s what we call the men who entertain, it’d be weird to call them a fry cook) put my first piece of LOBSTER on my plate my mother came quickly for it with a fork. Bare in mind that she too could’ve had the lobster if she chose. I controlled my selfish ways, cause she of all people knows that eating off my plate is outlawed. But then she turned to my 13 year-old-non pregnant sister who for some reason was at our Mother’s Day dinner, and said “Mmm, you have got to try some of this lobster.” I don’t recall exactly what I whispered, but let’s say it had the same effect as me standing on the table and urinating over my food to show territory. No more forks came round my plate on that night. Sorry to be so vulgar, but the lobster was good, and she ate it. Sigh, the life of a selfish man is no easy one.

Poop… there, I said it. It’s still funny to me.

Hey Huntsville, AL: 1 year, I still feel like I could pick up the phone and call him. Weird, that’s really all that I can say. I still think about him all the time though. I look at his cell phone number every time I get ready to call my grandma. I’m glad you still read, it reminds me of him the same way reading might remind you.

Alright everyone, I’m going to get some work done.

Peaces

The man, the myth... Atif?

Arlington Cinema N’ Drafthouse this Friday and Saturday at 9:45 PM! With Courtney Fearrington, Tyler Richardson and headliner Eric Schwartz! It’s gonna be fun, treat yourself…

And with that plug for the weekend, let’s get to the nitty grit. The story of Atif Myers, or “The Beast-Man Cometh”

In a time before jeans, when men roamed the earth with nothing but a mane of pubic hair to keep their legs warm, there was a man. Some said this man wrestled a cheetah to the ground, others insist it was a newborn cheetah cub that was still blind from infancy. One thing was for certain, there were cheetah drumlets for dinner once he’d laid the beast down. Who was this creature-man? To explain him we must peek through the beard of Zeus and tip toe past the childlike smile that whispers “Cinnamon.” Let me tell you how I came to know, befriend and ultimately encase in Carbonate… Atif Myers. I was walking through “the town” and was accosted by some hooligans set to make trouble. I was surrounded and without money, this meant an execution. As the circled swinging various sharp things I heard the battle cry that still rings out like thunder in my memory “No, you black son of a b*tch!” On the biggest mutant chicken I’d ever seen was a man whose beard completely clothed him. This was a hot day and the dew made it glisten so. He looked me in the eye and then pulled out a gigantic gun and starting pumping round after round into those evil doers eyes and faces. With each shot he laughed harder and harder, oh how his beard shook. I was of course soaked in urination because he didn’t appear to aim, just fire madly with his eyes closing from the laughter. But only one shot caught me in the genitals. Don’t worry, I’ve got the other one, I’m good. After he’d sent them back to “rapequarters”, which I’m pretty sure was his version of hell, he invited me to come ride the mutant chicken and he’d drop me off where it was safe. But I had no home, I would be safer to stay with him… and his big ass gun. He never seemed to eat, I only saw him chew the ends of his beard and stare angrily towards the sun. He told me that the sun taunted him and called him names. He used to swear at it for hours on end and try to throw things at it. I chalked most of that up to dementia from the heat. With a beard like that he must have been in a 130 room at all times. That will make you go crazy. But he saved my life, I’d be sane enough for the both of us. After a few months he told me he wasn’t black. He’d said the “N” word so much that I just assumed he was, after that news I asked him to refrain from using it unless the rap lyrics specifically asked for it. He agreed, and shot his own leg to say he was sorry. Atif never changed clothes, and to be honest I’m not sure if he ever had clothes on in that beard bubble. I thought I saw a sleeve to shirt, but then he pulled on it and it was a ribbon from somebody’s Christmas. There was no telling when it made it’s way into the beard, or how long it had been trying to work it’s way out. Since he was not Christian he pulled it out and stepped on it. But when he did the dance of pivoting on the balls of his feet to laugh at stepping on it, something happened. I saw a tear from the beard… I mean his eye. He was sorry; that was the day I realized there was something else under that beard… a heart. The only time I heard him lie when was I told him about my old Duck Hunt score and he said “Oh… oh yeah, well… I got a perfect score in Duck Hunt the first time I ever played it.” That’s impossible, but I still respected him. He was my hero. Why did I betray him you be asking… well, as with all great stories it was out of fear. Because of his great accomplishments I feared that one day he might destroy the world, he certainly had the power to do so in just his left nipple. So one morning while sharpening his nipples with an arrow I came from behind and blew his brains straight through his skull. I was heartbroken about killing my idol. I cooked up a good steak and took a walk while his body chilled in my freezer. There was only one solution, I gathered up all the bits of brain and skull and put them back in his skull. Oh, I threw up quite a bit that day, especially when the bowels released. But after all the gizzards and “what not” were back in, I sewed that b*tch back up and he was almost good as new. To this day there is no way to bring a corpse back to like but that is the day he’ll open his eyes and escape from “rapequarters.” I hope that when they bring that Frankenstein monster of a man back to life I can look him in the eyes and whisper “you did this to you.” Then blow my brains out all over him and embrace Satan in the long semen soaked clench of death.

Whew, that took a morbid turn huh? No matter, Atif now I don’t feel sorry anymore. I want a story like that to be whittled onto my grave someday. You’re welcome.

Everyone have a great freakend and if I don’t see you… I’ll see you.

Peaces

Tonight, Drafthouse. This Weekend... Drafthouse. A full weekend's supply of vitamin TRich!

It’s no ordinary Hersday (Thursday for those uninitiated), because today is the anniversary of my fight with the legendary red goat. Many of you have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about, allow me to explain. There is was in the middle of a good jerk (what, am I the only one that saves the load for Thursdays?) and I heard a commotion outside my window. Ordinarily when I hear the children outside fighting or just being hoodlums I turn up the volume on my snuff tape so I can stay in the mood. But on this day I decided to take a peek out the window. Their childlike screams were too loud to ignore and a woman’s moan interrupted by the screams of children makes me soft… what, I don’t get turned on by kids, do you? Anyway, I noticed several of them being worn as a belt by the most awesome beast I’d ever laid my eyes on… the red goat. He stood on two legs and was easily 5’2, which is about how tall they should be standing up but I was in awe of his balance. He wasn’t actually red, the name is deceptive, but his scrotum shined redder than the devil’s d*ck. He belted those children with his mighty hooves, at first I found it funny, and then I noticed he was erect. That’s where I draw the line. No boy hungry pedophile, man or beast, would come into my neighborhood without properly registering under the sex offender registry. I grabbed my Timberland's, because I was gonna kick the $#!T out of that goat. Then I remembered I don’t want to get $#!T on my boots and switched to Nikes. Going out the door I prayed to the wolf because his word is true and he would guide my fist even truer. Plus God isn’t a huge fan of violence despite what the people caught in the Holy Wars would have you believe so the Wolf is my back up. Praise be to the Wolf… anyway. When I came out side he instantly knew that I was there to stand and fight. Not for the children, and not for honor but because he ruined on of my favorite clips on YouPorn. How dare he! There were no words spoken, he was a goat, and I don’t talk to animals. When I charged at him my heart was racing and I launched myself into the air to Liu Kang kick his f*cking heart out. It wasn’t until I got about six inches away from connecting that I saw the look in his eyes… confusion. This goat was lost and scared, I’d stepped into a fight with a child… metaphorically. When the foot connected with his chest it felt like stepped on a baby turtle, crunches and snaps. I wish I could say that I let him crawl away to the forest, or wherever goats come from, and tell the animals of the might black warrior that jerks it. But when I felt the crunches within his chest from my foot I got mad with power. I was high, high on dominance. I beat that son a b*tch goat half to death, then put another quarter of ass whooping on him so he was only about a breath away from satan’s sweet caress. I stood over this beaten and scared goat with a red scrotum and felt pity. Then I grabbed the closest chubby kid and sat him on the goat’s face, for smothercation (oh, I like that word, don’t you). That was a year ago, I was a different man, now I realize there is nothing right about taking another man… I mean goat’s life. Every time I see a baby goat, and you’d be surprised how often that happens… I give it money. I don’t know which one might be his child. But I’ll tell you this, if I had it to do all over again… I would’ve worn my Timberlands. Cause I got in that goat’s ass. Happy Anniversary to me! The End.

Tomorrow I will provide a revision of Atif’s early years. Since his father looked it up I’d hate for him to think I disrespected his son by pretending a man had his way with him. So tomorrow, though still told in classic TRich fashion, we will revisit the Atif Myers story. For those that feel like it may be a Meg episode of Family Guy I say “No.” More like a Quagmire episode. We’ll get there tomorrow. Moving on…

What makes a man? How tightly his pants outline his doodle. You’re welcome.

A year ago I laughed at the thought of going back to school, yesterday I received an “A” on a research paper I’m proud to have written (last minute, but that’s of no importance). Time flies…

The last few days of rain have been great, I’m sorry to see them go. Nothing funny there, I just like rain.

A long time ago I meant to start taking pictures with random old people just to look back and laugh. I haven’t and I’m ashamed of myself. This weekend I’m getting some old pics with the elderly at the Drafthouse shows. Also, since my lady friend looks white and approachable I feel like she’ll be able to help me get them to take the picture. They might just think I’m out to rob them. The true conquest for pictures this weekend will be if I can get one to look like we’re doing the dance from House Party. I think I can pull that off, don’t you?

Eating a Twix, King Size, mmm. Be jealous.

I just realized exactly how many people I called a friend a year ago that are no longer part of my life. Jesus, I must really have some social disorder. Mmm, Twix… sorry, it’s hard to concentrate on myself with all this caramel. How selfish of me, let’s talk more about this Twix bar. The word nugget (nu-get) may always make me laugh, I hope to be a crazy old man staring at a Mars bar laughing in a corner. Ah, to dream…

Where is Sisqo? Even though a lot of you may have been wishing for it, I feel like he isn’t dead… yet.

I could not believe what Chris Hayes “predicted” in HIS competition. I’m not going to talk $#!T but Jesus, that was unnecessary. Part of me feels like I made statements like that when I first started this blog and I’m deeply ashamed of myself. Sometimes I go back and look at the first (extremely bitter, probably cause I just wasn’t as funny as I thought I was) blogs and I wince at what I would say. That’s the nicest thing I can say after reading what he had to say. Ugg, shame on you.

I’m gonna work a little bit before I go eat lunch with a very beautiful woman (I’m looking at you beautiful, stanks!). We’ll pick up tomorrow with journeys through the life of “the beard” Atif.

Peaces

"Good, you've found someone special... now dance blog monkey!"

Let’s have some fun shall we?

Perhaps women just really like the smell of certain colognes, but men do not accept that as an answer. If a woman turn to a man and says “Mmm, what cologne is that you have on?” she just came onto him. In her mind it was a perfectly good question, maybe she wants to remember it; maybe she wants to buy it for her significant other. To the man who was asked the question it sounded more like “Mmm, impregnate me.” Of course there are many other scenarios where we mistake something innocent for being hit on, such as: Touching my arm (or any part of the body for that matter), waving, smiling, looking in my direction, eye contact, friendship, laughing at my jokes, sharing anything in common, politeness, having a boyfriend and still speaking with us and the dreaded saying “hello.”

With that said, another woman asked me what cologne I had on today while we got off the elevator. My response: “Prada, now stop nose raping me, I’m taken.”
Apparently there is an MMA fighter that has all of his limbs cut off before the joints. To watch him fight is supposed to be hilarious, and surprisingly he wins fights. Without giving it much thought, I knew immediately he could beat me in a fight. I would throw up uncontrollably once one of those nubs touched me. Especially if it touched me on my face… ugh.

I just recalled that mother called me last week to speak about my 13 year old sister’s recently watched videos on her computer. She insisted my sister was “curious” and started listing titles and stars such as “Brianna Banks.” It wasn’t until she got to that name that I believed my sister was watching porn. I’m very familiar with the name Brianna Banks… a little too familiar. Then, after I’d already swallowed the idea that my baby sister (who I used to dance with during Muppet Treasure Island, ah to be young) was tainted, Mom says “And, that’s the biggest penis I’ve ever seen in my life.” Classic.

What is the only difference between men and women that matters? A Johnson… thank you.

Reptiles don’t ask for permission, they just interrupt slow dances with your date at the prom. That is why they are not allowed in most formal dances.

The image of a bunch of old men playing GRUNDLE SOCCER keeps running through my mind. I don’t know why its so funny to me, maybe its all of that old skin dangling… I picture it a bunch of old men naked from the waist down and circling on particularly dangle-ish man with a grundle that knots when it hits the ground. He follows not to far behind whoever is handling “the ball” and they’re all wearing Pumas. What a game, what a nightmare.

What the hell happened to Nell Carter from Gimme a break?

On Sunday Nelson, my friend Josh and I were in Costco. We saw a sign that said a man named Fred something donated $150 to the Children’s Foundation (that might be missing a word but you know the balloon with red and yellow on it). I thought, aloud, “Where the f*ck was I when that guy felt like throwing away $150 dollars?! I would give him a piggy back around the city… for a few hours, for $150!” My eyes met with the old black cashier that lacked a sense of humor since the gym teacher tasted her sweaty shorts. She was not amused, I threw out “Please forgive me, I was raised uncaring, that seems like a waste of money and all he got was a balloon showing what a stupid thing he did with $150.” She responded, “The only person you need to apologize to is…” Instead of finishing the sentence, she pointed slowly upwards, to the heavens. What a b-word, but you know what, I bet somewhere her gym coach still laughs while holding 50 year old gym shorts. Thinking about how not only do the shorts have sweat residue, but her spirit, and all the laughter throughout her life that went along with it. Good on you gym teacher, good on you.

How is it someone can ask a question you know the answer to and still make you panic? My girl asked what color her eyes were, I know they’re brown. After I answered she got busy and didn’t give the mental high five that I was anticipating. I was freaking out, $#!T, I still am cause she still hasn’t let me know I was right. Please God, if I was wrong change her eye color with a bolt of lightning or something so I can save face.

Dear Wolf, if God decides he’s not going to help me out like I just asked for could you step in. I know it’s been awhile but I still buy three bananas a day, spunk in them, and put them back for strangers to just pick up. Praise be to the Wolf. Oh, and thanks for all of the rain lately.

Mmmkay, I’m going to finish my surfing (world wide web) and for those that do not know the sweet kiss of http://www.latinoreview.com/ step into the 21st century. You sicken me. They just reviewed Star Trek (B+, C), hopefully I’ll find time to form an opinion of my own.

Peaces.

Arlington Cinema N' Drafthouse, May 8th and 9th, it's gonna be fun...

Okay, so Ricky Hatton lost… black son of a b*tch. I want my money back. How does he call himself a professional? If I was a jerk off champ (for the sake of the argument) and I came out and literally "came out" in the first jerk or two I'd be finished. That's all I'm saying. Boo this man! F'n Boo Butter.

Come out to the Arlington Cinema N’ Drafthouse this weekend to see headliner Eric Schwartz! I believe I know the feature this weekend, he’s a black guy…me. The shows start at 9:45 PM Friday and Saturday, be there, be sexy.

Real blogging goodness tomorrow. I'm going to have lunch with my Sweet... Peaces.

And I don't know who you are, but your fly is down, wear underwear tomorrow...

Observe and Report was hilarious, see it and smack anyone who mentions Paul Blart: Mall Cop in the face. The movie first line is “Hey B^tch!” as a streaker unleashes the beast in a parking lot. Before moving on to the next scene we see him run from person to person (about 7) with a different line. My personal favorite was “Touch daddy’s d*ck!” Classic…

When I die I want my face cut off and made into a mask. Atif, are you there? I want you to wear my mask and distract the collections agencies so my future family can run to Alaska… where credit doesn’t exist. It's absolutely... Boo Butter.

Hunstville (DeAnn), it’s been about a year now, feels weird. I still look at my Grandpa’s cell phone number in my phone whenever I’m calling my grandmother. On the lighter side, every time “I’m alone” I pray he’s got better things to look at. Maybe he’s busy checking in on you. God I hope so.

Being fixated on someone and being on heroine must be a lot alike. My mind keeps drifting but even after I get pissed and try to focus I come back to them and smile. And I’ve started ignoring texts and calls from women (like Babygirl, remember her?). Oh God, I’m still smiling… AH!!!! Boo Butter.

If case anyone doesn’t know, apparently the restaurant next to Rock Bottom (ground floor of Ballston Commons Mall) turns into a mini club at night. I saw a lot of rhythm-less white folk shake a tail feather. Right before I got up to show them what dance moves really look like, I pulled something. Next time white folk, next time…

Terminator: Salvation looks more and more money with every preview. I never thought that would be the movie I was most excited to see this summer but… damn. How do you do it Christian Bale? How do you do it?

What is a good friend? A friend that you tell about your obsession with Pauly Shore movies. A friend that listens and doesn’t judge you for your cravings for the Wea...sel. Then calls you out of the blue to say that he got you a gig hosting for him. You didn’t ask, he just cared and did what a good friend does. I was unable to make it, but damn Jessie Thomas is a good friend to me. I was really f’n touched, seriously, and I hope one day I can show him the same type of friendship. Until then, I’m just waiting for my turn. I wish everyone could have friends like this, we all deserve them.

I have a meeting shortly so this is going to be a shorty, sorry. Have a great weekend everybody, stay safe, I’m appreciative for every friend I have! I love everyone! This girl is getting to me… damn!

Peaces

Hello everyone, it’s a surprisingly happy Tyler signing in today. The birds are chirping, not really, and all that I can say is spring is in the air. You just want to text someone special to you: Boo Butter. Just to hear them giggle like a piglet. Ah, amore, to be young…

And now for the new word I’ve committed myself to: Boo Butter. And here are more than enough examples for everyone to understand: Butter is the new Ooo butter, meaning its You Butter. The very appeal of Boo Butter is that it’s seldom confused with Poo Butter… due to the smell. Nelson prefers Jew Butter, Atif likes Woo Butter and Sean Paul Ellis, well Sean Paul just likes Boo Butter. Smoo Butter…

I stopped there because I could do that $#!T all day. But no one wants that ingrained in their memory. Or do they… Boo Butter.

If you have yet to see Sean Paul’s fantastic blog, I recommend it. I laughed out loud like an insane patient threatening to throw $#!T when I saw it.

Yesterday I went to Subway. The Indian gentleman, who is actually really cool to me, seems to enjoy his country music. The song playing was country and started out by talking about how “He died on the cross”, only to jump into the chorus which specifically sang the tale of a solider at war. Don’t really see how those are related, really confused me. That was, until, a child ran past me and ran (I promise it’s true) straight into the wall near the bathroom. Like a blind dog. I laughed; his mother did not look at me as though we could ever be friends. The End.

Yesterday was a strange class moment. With the semester just about dead, we handed in our research papers and broke into groups to discuss photos from famous photographers. We came across two that made me laugh inappropriately. The first was “American Gothic” (don’t really care if that’s not supposed to be in quotes, it juts happened), I’m sure that a lot of you are familiar with the farmer and his stone cold fox of a wife/daughter who put on the Sunday bests cause it was picture time. Before the professor had finished explaining what we were going to discuss I laughed like somebody just started tickling Retarded Craig (the imaginary handicapped guy with a heart of gold, he likes Mars bars). Then we turned the page, “American Gothic” (yes, above) but this one is a black woman in the 1950s holding a broom and mop in front of an Amercian flag. I pictured her thinking "I bet I left the stove on..." Yet again, Retarded Craig had both hands in the air while Sean Paul tickled his ass into a seizure. Oh Sean Paul (that sounded gay in my mind), why do you kiss the girls and make them cry? Anyway, I’m getting off topic… ahem. When we did get in groups, my group picked a photo of a zoo in Memphis. A sign was outside the zoo saying that “NO WHITE PEOPLE WERE ALLOWED TODAY.” Naturally, white people see it and think “WTF” and black people assume the white people gave us a day a the zoo, plus you can see a few black people. The point being that everyone has a different point of view based on their experiences. I told the teacher that I imagined a giant mousetrap theory. They invited all those black people in as an elaborate joke. Once all the negroidians were in place they slammed the door shut and screamed April Fool’s. Then the zookeeper opened up all of the animals cages for a feast the likes of which is rarely seen on anything but cable. The next day all that could be found were teardrops and watermelon seeds, the janitor who cleaned up the mess whistled the theme to the Jeffersons. I believe I earned that “A.”

Chicken grease, that is all.

I’m out, but more wackiness (did you see what I just did, I gave myself an untrue credit, Boo Butter) tomorrow!

Peaces

I make this look good...

Hello everybody, la di da di we likes to party we don’t cause trouble we don’t…
Random man: “Boo n#gga, shut up! This ain’t 1981, get you @ss offstage.”
Never mind…

Don’t you love spring time? Love is in the air and everyone is all twitterpated. I’m thinking about strapping my dog Max into his ejacu-bag (it’s a series of bags I used to put him in to stop him from humping my ex’s female Jack Russell) and letting him have a good ol’ time. Ah, to be young…

Guard: Halt who goes there?
Man: I am Death, here to claim your soul, Donald Trevaine. Don’t bother running, I am everywhere… and nowhere.
G: But I…
D: You have lived a life full of women, one man in your early twenties and swine. Come with me into the abyss so that you may frolic amongst the other tortured souls. Where toenails grow back as soon as they are agonizingly plucked from your feet. The maggots will line the very walls of your urethra. You testicles…
G: But I’m not Donald Trevaine.
D: Oh… well, where is he?
G: Hold on, (yelling down the hall) Hey Don, there’s someone looking for you. Says you just won a vacation… Look, he owes me like $200 from a long time ago… think you could get that off him during that whole plucking the toenails thing?
D: Perhaps, do you have PayPal? I just really hate coming all the way back here to give it to you. The traffic in the DC Metropolitan area is a fat man dragging his nuts through his shorts.
G: What’s that mean?
D: Traffic is nasty.
G: Ah-ha.
Donald: Here I am!
D: I am Death…

Thank God rain is on its way, all this terrible sunlight has the beast in hiding. Praise be to the wolf.

I would almost be down for LARP (Live Action Role-Playing, see the movie Role Models if you have no idea what I’m talking about) if it didn’t mean giving up sex with attractive women for the rest of my life. That’s a steep f’n price to pay.

Lots of traveling soon, pictures will follow.

Marvel Vs. Capcom 2 is on its way to XBOX Live Marketplace… and PSN. Lube up gentlemen, it’s gonna be sensual.

A new (fine) lady friend made a complaint that ended with “she’s white, so I know she can read…” Now I’m more determined than ever to get a picture with an illiterate white person (older than 3). I might even get her in the picture; something tells me she wouldn’t be opposed to random weirdness. She is, after all, attracted to me.


This year my birthday has been set up to suck. Not for me personally, but everyone chose it for craptacular things. Oh, you want examples: Relapse by Eminem (has to suck, no way he comes back like it’s 97’), Blackout 2 by Redman and Methodman (a little too late my friends, did you take advice from Eminem?!), The NOW CANCELLED Rebirth by Lil Wayne (I think we all heard Prom Queen, nuff said), the only good thing I know of that will come out on my B-Day is UFC Undisputed for XBOX 360… and PSN. All I really want is a ZJ.

When the hell is the new Broken Lizard movie coming out? They were filming that like 2 years ago. I want more Michael Clarke Duncan in comedies… he’s a genius.

Yesterday at lunch my friend Jessica pulled quite the fast one on me. She made me think she was offended by the fact that I find anything a midget does hilarious. After sitting awkwardly for a few seconds she says something like “I love midgets, especially if I could keep one as a pet.” Yep, the world is just as warped as I am, you just have to let people be comfortable. See what you can drag out of your parents.

I’m going to get some important things done, like sharpening my sword for the duel with the Chess Dragon… you heard me right.

Peaces

I wouldn't, unless you don't mind a lil o' the clap...

I hate these long absences; I don’t shower when we’re apart. I let the funk wash over me, and more importantly those around me, to let the world know I suffer. Soon will be together again and I will B.O. hug the world into tears. – Billiam Shakespeare, the early poems

“1, 2, 3, 4… Hold the cheer! Someone here needs an introduction to a douche bag, seriously. Eck!”

The show at Catholic University was… something else. Part of me likes to believe that the crowd was tricked into thinking there would be a mass or something, only to audience members in a comedy show. At one point in my set I asked “So what do you guys do for fun around here?” The answer I received: “Read the BIBLE.” I think that awkward moment speaks for the show, but we did our best. w00t

4:20 was… I’m sorry what was I talking about?

Calgary here I come… in 2010. FunnyFest whoo!

Allow me to take a second a drop some of what I’m going through on others. I don’t really think my experiences merit advice but if it helps someone down the road someday, right on. When trying to break into the college market you will undoubtedly become familiar with NACA. This is not the only means of college work, there is the APCA, but it is the “Sony.” Meaning household name, most people flock to it, when truthishly ( I love using that word) Samsung makes a better television. Anyway, when you’re considering making that move you will either buy a membership ($$$$) or try to find a college booking agency that already has a membership and pays for other things that could be a hassle. I’m sure to many, the sound of a booking agency makes sense, it did to me too. Last year I made a concentrated effort to e-mail and call just about any agency that I could look up. Only one came back to me with “You’re a funny guy.” Once the reality of submitting for showcases (they wanted a lot of money right then, didn’t smell right) kicked in, I decided to wait. Now I’ve jumped back into that plan, but I’ve been fortunate enough to speak seriously with more than one agency and weigh them against each other. Turns out that the person who wanted a lot of money from me… well, just wanted a lot of money. Something smelled wrong about the figure I heard from #1 the second #2 mentioned fees. I immediately knew that #1, despite being the only one who thought I showed potential a year ago, was a bit pricey. Then comes #3 yesterday and blew me away, almost nothing. I can only speak for myself, but that seemed to be a big sign of legitimacy. Anytime someone speaks of a lot of cost prior to speaking about me making money I feel like I’m trying to model for John Casablanca. I still have other factors to think of but wanted to make sure that people don’t just go with the first thing you hear because you’re really excited. That is enough of that; let us move on to tomfoolery…

Just thought I’d share because it tickled me, this is an account from a woman in class yesterday: I saw a homeless man chase a perfectly normal woman up and down the street twirling a bag with shoes in it. He started following her and then I watched them both pick up stride. She crossed streets, he followed, she screamed and he shrieked louder. The crazy thing is no one tried to help her. We all just stood there for a minute and watched them on Wisconsin Ave during a very busy time of the day. It made my day…

I told myself I’d never $#!T talk through a blog, again, but Sean Paul Ellis cries like a hermaphrodite. There I said it. I was talking to him on the phone an he stubbed his toe on something. First there were a lot of swear words strung together, in no way making a sentence. Then I hear what I mistook to be a sea lion receiving a hand job. After listening and smirking for a few minutes I heard his wife come over and console him. At some point the words “Sponge Bob Square Pants Band-Aid” were used. I’m not judging you Sean… but you’re a weird guy.

Is there anything crazier than when you finish all of your work early and they give you more work. What happened to the days when they sent you home early to show everyone else it’s a competition? Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday…

Great, now I have Amerika’s Most Wanted by 2pac and Snoop Dogg stuck in my head.

Yesterday was one of the few times that I’ve just given up on trying to make eye contact with a woman during conversation. This woman’s shirt was so open, and “the girls” were sitting up like it was a competition for the better boob. I just quit about two minutes in. I’m going to be somebody’s father.

Traffic was, as usual, an old man whose nuts accidentally fell out of his swim trunks. By that I mean it was nasty.

Am I alone here, or does everyone else not give a f about tortured terrorists? We have got to get some better news. Somebody invent something.

And now for the obligatory “Dance up all over yourself at your desk” minute of rhythm… Mmm mmm mmm.

What’s better than one pornographic website? Seriously, I don’t know but I have to find another hobby. Did you know there is such a thing as too much of a good thing? Weird.

I will get back to shanty town, or as I like to call it “my daydreams.” Live well and don’t feed that hoe.

Peaces

It was way to juicy in there to be rape your honor...

Sleep is by far the biggest tease in the whole wide world. What I wouldn’t give to just drop on the cubicle where I’ve been sitting without worrying someone would come wake me. I felt the same way yesterday and didn’t get my bearings until 4 O’ Clock . Here goes one more day.

In the middle of conversations at work, my newest favorite is to yell louder than necessary “OH, you mean when you bought that big bag of bad crack?!” I’m as subtle as a samurai sword running along the seam of a scrotum. That really doesn’t mean anything but, the imagery of it, I was practically running along the seam myself. Moving on…

Right now it’s 8:48 AM (ET) and I am officially partying like a rock star… drinking Rock Star energy drank (that’s right, not drink, drank). Reminds me of being hit on by jean clad hookers in Atlantic City. “Hey, you boys like to party like a rock star?” They had on jeans and tennis shoes. Their prostitute card should be revoked for some $#!T like that. You’re giving the hard working, run in heels, pee on the sidewalk, $12 ZJ women of the night a bad name. In tennis shoes…

Instead of calling a woman “the C word” I find it funnier to call them a street hooker… in my mind… because I’m a coward.

Hot Broth was fun last night, lots of name and faces I did not know with familiarity sprinkled. Jake borrowed the ol’ iPod for a minute to play intros. I was really crossing my fingers for It’s Raining Men by the Weather Girls. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it on my death bed, “That song is hilarious to me, and I don’t see why we gave it to the gays in the first place.” I’m gonna go out, I’m gonna let myself get ABSOLUTELY SOAKIN WEEEEEEETTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!! That tickles me.

Today I’m wearing a white polo and white shoes. I hate that fashion rules say people can’t wear white until after Memorial Day. That doesn’t even make any sense, why not go with Flag Day? Or Cinco de Mayo? Or the anniversary of Peanuts creator Charles Schultz’s death?! I wear what I want. It pisses me off that I even know that rule, like blue and black don’t match. I blind man came up with that rule. Black matches everything, don’t you read?

I watched Making the Band 4 last night, with so many crying @ss men last week I couldn’t say no. Unfortunately, there were no tears to be seen. Just horrible television magically thrown together by the most diabolical puppet master… Diddy. Give us back G-Dep!

I met a great woman at a party not to long ago. I was having fun and the next day it sank in that I should have gotten her number. I assumed that since she said she knew someone, I should have no problem tracking her down. I waited and waited and finally asked about her yesterday. As of right now, no one has heard of her… I worry that she was an optical illusion. Could I be surrounded by so many scandalous women that I had to imagine one that I could take out and not order an Extra Value Meal? Oh to be single in the 21st century.

The song Black Betty is highly underrated. Sometimes you don’t have to say anything to move people. Look at Ozzy Osbourne.

This energy drink tastes like I’m licking someone’s eyebrow… after they went down on a peach. That’s right, oral sexing a peach and then some juices got on the eyebrow. Then I break into the bedroom this is going on in and walk towards the man. I look at the peach, and then look at him, judging neither or them for their lust. I lean in like I have a secret and taste the eyebrow for sustenance. Then I cock back the hammer on my Desert Eagle and blow the man, and the peach, straight to hell where all the fruit sex they could ever have awaits. It waits right at the bell of Satan’s d*ck… fruit fornicators.

I don’t think I miss being a kid due to lack of responsibility. I think I just miss people giving a $#!T about you, every kid is special to their parents and teachers. Strangers would even help you out, but once you’re old enough to fend on you own you could be homeless and 19… you’re grown. I gotta stop jerkin it, I’m getting way too sentimental.

Atif Meyers left an open mic to jerk it. Tell anyone and everyone, sully his good name.

Bad news for any of us that find peeing at others hilarious. A man was sentenced to three weeks in jail because he stood up and peed on a woman during a flight to Hawaii. There was no argument between them prior, she was just watching the in flight movie and “Boosh.” I only wish I had thought of it first… I hope they rape him as little as possible during initiation.

I’ve finally broken a life long habit of saying God Bless you while one particular woman sneezes. I have a bit about a Muslim friend that never say it to, that bit came from this woman at work. She is Muslim and never, not f*cking once, has said thank you. She sneezes all day long so this is something that I kick myself for at least 3 or 4 times a day. But now, she could drop dead and I wouldn’t stop typing. I honestly don’t know if it’s because she’s pretending not to hear me, or if it’s a difference in our religions and she just won’t say it. Next sneeze the proper response will be “I hope you swallow you’re tongue.” Thank you.

I was surprised to see there was a competition at the Comedy Spot coming up, put on by Chris Hayes. What really shocked me was the number of comedians involved… 60. Yes, there are that many people currently dreaming the same thing for their future that we are, right now. Naturally, I looked through every name, didn’t spot mine. But, before I got all sensitive I noticed that there were a lot of names, really funny people who I did not spot. For once, I didn’t grab a stranger and give them a Stone Cold Stunner (mmmm), ya growns up and ya growns up. I remember how I’ve felt every other year when I submitted for the DC Comedy Fest and didn’t see my name. But this year I will not know that feeling again, “you can’t change the world, but you can change yours.”

Tomorrow night, a show that will take your socks off before blowing a load all over your feet… yep. Catholic University, around 7-ish, here is the lineup: Will Hessler, Jermaine Fowler, Tyler Richardson, Jake Young, Hampton Yount and John McBride. Strap on something sexy and come join, won’t you?

I’m going to split, I have a meeting shortly and I need to rest eyes on someone’s chest for a while. If only I could pull that off… sigh.

Peaces

Free dong rides, inquire inside after Sunday School

Another day with that I’ve forgotten my cell phone at home… sigh. What am I supposed to do if an emergency happens? Blow the rape whistle my grandmother gave to me on my 23rd birthday?! Though it has saved me hide more than I care to mention, what about bears? What about gremlins and aliens, or even an asteroid. How the hell am I supposed to destroy an asteroid on a set course to collide with Earth without my BlackBerry? Sigh, it’s another sad DVDuesday.

Actually, even though I forgot my phone I’m feeling good because its raining outside and gloomy. I’ve always had good fortune on days like this so maybe that’s why I get so psyched up about rainy days. Other people have wonderful sunny days, well, f*ck the sun. I’ve already had one good e-mail that surprised me (I won the f’n lottery, not really) and that’s one more than most days offer. Bring on my elephant that can balance a stick while standing on a ball. What, if I were king that’s all I would want to see. Oh, and a woman with three breasts… tee hee.

I’m excited about our show at Catholic University on Saturday, I wish I could give the entire line-up but here is who I know to be there: Will Hessler, Jake Young and who the f*ck is Tyler Richardson? Oh well, he’ll be there too. That’s all I know, sorry if I left someone out but I’m looking forward to it either way.

And yes, for those that haven't seen that picture already, that is Lil Wayne kissing Baby (Birdman)... I'm still a fan but damn.

I had a dream last night about eating ice cream… yep, that’s how you first start walking down the road to fatdom. I’ve taken a lot of pictures of my face lately, so if I get fat I can still be sexy for my wife. My wife will get ready for the usual Wednesday night “boogey” when she hears “Dear, we’re going to try something new…” What? She’ll ask… “Well, I thought a little role play. I’m going to be the man you married tonight!” (I come out in a plastic mask of myself sucking my gut in to mimic the abs of my 20’s. Blaring behind me is my son holding a boom box playing It’s raining men by the weather girls. Right around the part where they say “I’m going to go out, I’m gonna let myself get, ABSOLUTELY SOAKING WET!!!!” I start pouring hot butter on the crack of my wife’s behind. Then I excuse my son, cause it’s Mr. Nasty time, and make sweet passionate unprotected baby no. 2. His name… Brockula Quagmire Richardson. Yes, long live me.

I bought a new pair of loafers last week. When I wore them last Friday my left foot was killing me. It made me wish I tried things on more, but I hate it so I won’t. This morning while changing from my slippers to dress shoes in the car I noticed I’d overlooked something. There was still a cardboard piece lining the shoe I would never have seen without sticking my head in there. My foot feels a lot better now. You’re welcome.

The hardest part of diarrhea is constantly excusing yourself from the table whenever someone makes you laugh. So I’ve heard.

In some cultures, being invited to have breakfast (or any meal) at the Waffle House is considered a polite offer. For future record, if I ever invite you to the Waffle House, know that you or someone very close to you have or will die. I would bring the body into the back and tell everyone it’s your birthday. When all the “staff” (its in quotation marks because the word staff tickles me… staff) comes to sing to you I’ll stand up “And your mother just had to be here…” (A box is slid in front of you) What’s in the box isn’t as important as the look on your face when you see. Picture seeing nothing but ears in a box after someone just said that. Morbid, but still tickles me, I know I’m strange. Next…

24 was OFF THE HINGES last night! I haven’t rooted and screamed at a television since momma put on Soul Plane at Thanksgiving a couple years back (I didn’t really scream but she and my grandmother honestly thought it would be a good movie. They robbed me of 2 hours of my life that I can never have back).

I would love to begin answering every question at work with “I look too good to ____.” The only reason I don’t is because I don’t want someone to give me too much truth and hurt my feelings. I’m just a big squishy teddy bear, soft and emotional. But packin’ D*CK.

My lips are chapped, I’m off to go check out young mothers (can’t anyone make it to 30 without having kids) who frequent… the building. (What takes me 15 minutes will take you two seconds because this isn’t in real time)

Jermaine, I read that comment from yesterday and Mercedes is an (attractive) old friend. I doubt she wants the chode, but if so I’ll need to put on more cologne. I leak sulfur around pretty women.

Eli, I will be at hot broth Thursday. I hope that I see you there. I’ll the anti-social black guy in the corner. Probably hugged up on Kyle Martin or some random woman that been separated from her cubs… yeah, you heard me.

Mmmm, ranch dressing with celery and carrots. Oh, that Trix rabbit doesn’t know what he’s missing. What sick bastard would give a rabbit cereal? That’s why you don’t feed animals people food, now he’s a smackhead for Trix cereal.

It’s stupid, but I laughed this morning after thinking to myself “Wow, it’s raining bullfrogs and foreskin out here.” You’re welcome.

Alright, I’m going to actually get some work done now.

Peaces

Easter dinner and the gay blind date...

I went to an interesting party of Friday night, what caught me off guard was that no one mentioned it would be completely filled with middle-eastern ethnicity. Which is no problem for me, but just imagine walking into a party and realizing everyone present is a werewolf. We don’t know whether or not werewolves would harm us without reason so take no offense if you enjoyed Slumdog Millionaire as much as the rest of the world. My point just being it’s a bit of a shock walking in and being surrounded. I’m not a fan of walking into all white places either though, I’m equal opportunity afraid. Best story of the night has to go to the loose woman with a gigantic star. Apparently she was in a couple with a friendly man who I’d found myself listening to. He says that shortly after they broke up she had a huge crush on some guy not giving her the time of day. The guy was a break-dancer, so she figured she might impress him with dance moves. Well… she pulled something crazy out and broke her arm. Worst part is that there was a pre med student there when it happened, he starts pulling on her arm in gross jerks trying to get it “back in the socket.” When people saw her later, after her hospital visit that next day, she had a great big scar running down the bicep. The guy she tried to impress did not give sympathy bone-age either. That’s what she gets for chasing a dream folks. She needed to settle for this very real “meat right here. Stop reaching for the stars all the time ladies, real men live on earth…

Nelson and I went to Wal-Mart on Saturday to get some random crap. The lady is front of us brought one thousand items to the only open Self Checkout lane available. I went to stand in another line where I felt we might leave before the sun set. My line won the race and I motioned him to get in my spot, I didn’t want anything from Wal-Mart (right then). When he took the spot a woman behind him started talking to the cashier… talking $#!T. I was trying to eavesdrop much, but she was so loud I felt like she was challenging me. I heard several words that made me eventually speak, these words: RUDE, JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT OTHERS, THAT’S HOW PEOPLE GET STABBED, BLACK SON OF A B*TCH (she didn’t actually say that, she was black, but “That’s how people get stabbed” was enough). I turned and said “Really Ma’am, you wanna be nasty and get into this right before Easter Sunday?” She laughed and said “Oh, I wasn’t talking to you dear, HE just cut right in front of me without saying anything and I was saying that was rude. I saw you signal over to him though, he shouldn’t be so in his own world cause that could cause some people to snap on him.” I was satisfied with the fact that she wasn’t talking about me. Nelson still wasn’t really paying attention cause though she was talking about him like he wasn’t there, he was never more than six inches away from her. Plus he was “kissing the sky” at the time… oh, to be young.

I downloaded a bunch of new songs yesterday. Most notably were Eminem’s We Made You- that song is one of the worst I’ve ever heard, 16 year old Tyler is crying for his old idol. WTF happened to you Eminem? Second was a plethora of Etta James songs… what of it? And, as Nelson found out yesterday, I remembered how much It’s Raining Men makes me laugh. Good times.

I have a regular move for avoiding people’s looks while using the bathroom in “the open.” I pretend to be tying my shoe and let it hang… that’s all the detail I’ll disgust you with. On Friday night I’m pretty sure people caught me. Which lead to a weird stand up and run away while someone called who was meeting me. I quickly ran into their car from the parking area and got the f out of there. Urinating, publicly anyway, used to be easier when I was a baby and people thought it was cute.

Which leads us to a very weird Easter dinner… I think my grandmother may have been trying to set me up on a gay date, that or she just wanted to warn me we would be dining with a homosexual. While describing what we would have for dinner she went into way too much detail about a friend of the family that was coming over. It kinda gave me a weird feeling, cause it reminded me of how you prepare a friend for a blind date. I asked her on the phone “Why do I care about this guest of yours, you’re giving me a lot of details aren’t you? Is he gay or something?” She replied that she was just making sure I would be social since I generally don’t speak to strangers (I don’t, what can I say, I just hate meeting new people). I relaxed and moved on with my day. Once there we ate a lot, we go downstairs so the family can watch Taken, guess who comes to dinner? A young gay man. Perhaps granny was right, because due to how that whole phone call went then he IS gay… I went upstairs until the movie was over. I blame granny more than him, all my mom could do was laugh at the uncomfortable silence that had befallen the basement. Yep, that was how my night went. How was yours?

I’m off next Tuesday, why? Because Monday 04/20/2009 could be an exciting day! I hear that Conway Twitty may come to Virginia and sign autographs. Not really, but I’m going to enjoy the day anyway.

If it’s been more than 10 years since you’ve heard Return to Innocence, go back and listen to what Enya gave to the early 90’s. Class, she gave it class.

Dragonball: Evolution made less than 5 million dollars last weekend. Meaning you could do a good amount of stretching while looking for a seat this weekend. It’s good, this was the only way that nerds like myself can communicate with movie studios like FOX. Don’t go see the movie, don’t even rent it. Make them earn it, I’m not going to tell you where to download it, but that weak $#!T Nelson is watching it that way. Boo Dragonball: Evolution, boo.

Gotta snuggle up to some knowledge real quick but I’ll be back tomorrow.

Peaces

Get in the Hyundai Cheryl, I'm not playin wit you!

Yesterday was quite a Thursday, it heads all the great things you love about Tuesday but Friday’s ass. Maybe Wednesday’s… nah.

How much do you have to be away for people that you never really ran into like that to call you on it? Kyle Martin, bless his blue-eyed soul, even said something to me last night around the lines of “… and wherever you just came back from.” I dig it though, it was lovely to see a bunch of the familiar faces last night at Hot Broth. Jumped on first, I didn’t suck too much, and the next time Ahmed (a newer comic for those like myself) meets me the intro will be less awkward. It went something like “I don’t know who (the f@ck) this next guy is… ummm… black as the day is long… here’s Tyler Richardson.” Okay, now to be fair I may have added everything after ummm, but it tickles me. However, what was touching was how hard all of the comics (in the crowd when the show started, not the “too goods” conversing outside… oh, that felt good) got when Ahmed mentioned Eli was the featured comedian of the night. I took me back to standing outside of the Laughing Lizard in the summer of 07’. I met a young man with locks of golden honey that seemed relatively new to the scene, because he was. He had a shimmer in his eye and actually looked me in the eyes while we spoke instead of my penises. Well, now “ya growns up and ya growns up Eli” I makes a crippled kid walk every time someone gives the man his props. Help the differently abled children and show Eli some love. It just reminded me of how we all pick some people to look at and say “I’d like to be a comic like that in our area.” I picked Erin Jackson a long time ago, and she still gives advice when I ask it. Even though she’s incredibly busy and going to be famous in about 10 minutes. I think Eli would be the same way.

When did it become cool no to think Dane Cook is funny? I feel left out on that one, because he still makes me laugh (NOT his movies). Then again, one of my favorite stand up DVDs is Jamie Foxx: I might need security… Jermaine loves to laugh at me for that one.

I’ve been eating a lot of Kit Kat bars during work the past couple of weeks. I don’t know what that means but I feel sexier. Could they be related? Hmmm… “Eat a Kit Kat bar because they soak the drawls.” Nah, I think they’re just delicious.

Oh… no… you… didn’t.

Had a negroidian flashback downstairs a few minutes ago. I forgot I was in the work place and my friend Jeff spots me and screams “Wut up!” I screamed back “Ha, I see you!” My friend Jessica instantly pointed out our volume was very “hood”, who knew I could be so ghetto? In crispy new loafers no less, it’s casual Friday…

On the day a handicapped child truly solves for Π the world will implode. The wolfen bible does not specify what handicap this rule is limited to. Someone stop Stephen Hawking, he’s too bright!

Once I made it home last night I was able to catch an episode of Making the Band 4… OMG (no homo). What part of “You’re on national television” did these pretty boy thugs not understand (at this point if you merely glanced at the pic above, give it another looksey... looking real teary eyed ain't he). When the first light-skinned man started to let tears fall from his eyes (saying he wept doesn’t do it justice) I became bothered. When the next one started to cry while speaking to the already b*tchmade @ss thug letting tears from his eyeballs, I became silly with laughter. Boo Diddy, boo Puffy, n*gga just “boo.” No homo…

Does anyone actually care about the Captain being held hostage by the shabbiest looking pirates I've ever seen? Or am I just an @sshole for asking? Either way, Captain Hook would make those Africans walk the plank. Pirates... pffft.

I’ll keep this thang short today (oh God, the slang is taking over me) and say have a great weekend. Hope to bump into some of you and I wish us all protected “relations.”

Peaces

Working with Barry White

(This is to be read as though Barry White were speaking to you)
Hello everybody, we are coming to you from the middle of somewhere and as usual we’re completely bucked naked. Sit back, relax at your desk and pour a fine glass of good scotch. Ignore what your co-workers say, especially their looks, and go ahead take your shoes off. Poot as you please, let everyone know that not only are you comfortable in the work place, they aren’t comfortable enough. Give the boss a hug right before they begin to reprimand you. Are they gone yet? You should have put just enough grind in that hug to be unsettling without being sexual harassment. Getting fired is no joke in these economically hard times. Besides, if you get fired how are you going to afford all of that cream and ointment I recommend later with no job. You’re going to pay for those jellies and lubricants with the electricity money? Damn, you know that’s irresponsible don’t you? Whatever, I guess that’s what Thursdays were made for right? Turn your phone ringer on. Then set your phone to your favorite ring tone. Got it? Alright, now make sure the ringer is as loud as possible. It should be on the setting where the manufacturer takes away the ability for the phone to jiggle. It’s that loud baby. Call your self. That’s right, I said call yourself and let your co-workers hear your favorite song. If you have a friend in the office that has that ring tone when they call you let them know. Are they pleased with your song choice for them? They probably aren’t. But whatever muthaf*ka, the Pussycat Dolls aren’t for everybody. Ya dig? Go ahead and call again just to show everybody how you dance boo. Yeah… yeah… I’m bringing SexyBack…Sorry, that Justin Timberlake gets my d*ck hard ya’ll. Alright, you’ve worked up a sweat, and it’s only 10 O’ Clock in the morning. S#!T I don’t get paid enough to sweat like this. Where were we? Oh yeah, make a personal call. When they answer scream “All up on yo daytime minutes and there ain’t $#!T you can do about it!” Then hang the f up on that bama. That was fun wasn’t it? Yeah baby, now Harlem Shake in your seat for 15 seconds, no more no less. Think about lunch for a second… mmm mmm mmm, chili. No… you… didn’t. Now you’ve done it, you’ve ruined the rest of the morning by thinking of something so good you can’t work. Grab a snack and go to the bathroom to take your mind off it. Eatydoo, that’s what I call it when I shove in food while I make poo butter. A $#!T joke, yeah. Practice BrickBreaker on your Blackberry, people will think you’re important because they can hear the Blackberry hard at work while you eatydoo. “He must be important, he can’t even take a $#!T without working.” No I’m not, I’m just trying to break this record baby. I gotta make it past the 17th level before this phone is 2 years old. Try to get a stranger to take over for you to beat a level while you eatydoo. Pass the phone under the stall. Did they take it from your poo drenched hand? Probably not, right? B*tchmade, that’s alright we’ll beat it ourselves, f*ck’em. Wipe. Go on now, wipe. Yeah, now let’s get back to work… in spirit. If you got a cigarette, smoke that $#!T. Go on, yeah. Oh… no… you… didn’t. Damn, that feels good don’t it? Yeah. Alright now, follow the groove I just laid down for you until quitting time. If you still have a job tomorrow, I just clued you in on how casual business can be. Yeah, business casual, Mmm. And buns, “ No I didn’t”, yes I did. Oh baby.

I just felt like getting a little silly today. Peaces. Oh, and the Fowlest had his Live at Gotham auditions last night. Cross the fingertips for him ya’ll.

Uplifting

It’s another DVDuesday and here we are, shoeless and in love. And yes, that picture of Foghorn Leghorn is WAY too big. But it tickles me...

I made a new friend in an important place, that was the good news that beamed out of me like a porn star’s first money shot. With that said, I was very emotional (gay, I know) for a day or two. I watched Rocky Balboa and kept repeating that speech he gave to his son over and over again. “It ain’t about how much you get hit, but how many hits you can take and keep getting up and moving forward.” – Rocky

Life is incredible if you really look around, let’s take the Fowlest, who now has an audition for Live at Gotham tomorrow night (wish him laughs, he doesn’t need luck). When he left here he didn’t even have a permanent place to live. Now he’s being managed by Eddie Murphy’s old manager and seems to be receiving help from Paradigm. If you would have told him all that was in his future two years ago when we met he would have $#!T a brick. But he’s earned it now, so while it’s still mind blowing, now he can smile because he’s already walked down that road.

I’ve come down from my “high” last week (I guess even lottery winners eventually let it all sink in) and started looking optimistically towards the future. I’ve actually been writing a couple of jokes a day since last Wednesday and that’s more than I’ve written in a long time. That alone makes me happy, but like everyone else I’m anxious to see how they are received. I’ve started dreaming about comedy again, like back when I started. I was watching Comedian again yesterday and just watching Orny Adams is inspiring. Love him or hate him, he had wall to wall jokes for any occasion and was determined. He had the same insecurities that anyone I’ve had a serious conversation with has spoken about but said them to the camera. When he ran into Seinfeld early on in the movie they share a chat where Jerry eases some of his insecurities. I’ve never really understood exactly what Jerry was talking about with his story of the Norman Rockwell painting until yesterday. I’m sure you’ve all seen it and understood by this point, but finally paying attention and hearing that does kind of make you smile. We all have a bond that no one else can ever really relate to unless they’ve chased this beast for a little while. Like people that had been in Vietnam, the war, not on vacation. Since I was old enough to understand what Jerry did on the show Seinfeld (by that I mean you rarely saw him work because he traveled a lot, but he never wanted for money and seemed to live a perfect life) that’s really all I’ve wanted. We all have some realistic version of how our dream life would be… what’s yours?

Yesterday Nelson and I saw several Hispanic men stealing a Cherry Blossom tree in my neighborhood. Some sad $#!T…

I discovered a new love this weekend while celebrating, 30 ROCK! I bought season 1 thinking it might entertain me, I love some Alec Baldwin (He’s a Baldwin damnit!) but found out so much more. And, I’m now addicted to watching Tina Fey, does it get any finer? Next thing I knew I’d reached the end of season 1… off to grab season 2. I’m hooked and glad that it took me until now to find out. Season 3 shouldn’t be too far off…

This beautiful Spanish (woman) tricked me into buying two shirts that totaled more than I care to mention. Let’s just say I could’ve bought a video game and like looking at my account balance a whole lot more. Damn you Ralph Lauren.

Snickers are now selling a King Size as two snack sized bars. Even if it’s the same amount of candy, I feel cheating seeing them separated like that. Snickers what happened to us? There were days I thought I could never go without you. I used to feel like I’d lose my mind if I didn’t have you in my mouth by the end of the day… “no homo.”

I will give one American dollar, via PayPal, to the person who can tell me what movie or show had some big black guy answer a question involving his name with “@SS popper.” It’s always cracked me up and I’m anxious to see whatever that movie was again.

Yesterday was a night of Strawberry Wine, and seduction. I passed out extremely early from it and had dreams of chasing Tina Fey. Oddly enough, it was not your average semen soaked nightmare… “Oh God, I hope he’s joking.”

Okay I’m off to enjoy the day and what not. Wouldn’t be surprised if you bumped into an awkward looking black fellow with a ____ blank of the Gods. (hint: wenis)

Peaces

Sir, there's a bag of crack by your feet... gonna smoke that?

And… we’re back. Yesterday was one of the best days of my life and as much as I want to say why, I have a phone conversation to have before I go jinxing myself. I’ll have more to say on that tomorrow (or whenever I blog next, but if it goes my I’ll definitely get back on that tomorrow!)

On Monday I was haunted by what someone once told me “… no wonder women are all over you at work, you can see your d*ck in those pants!” I questioned if only I could see them while I was in the bathroom getting ready to leave work. I walked out of the bathroom and a couple of women called me over for random conversation. After two sentences I saw one looking directly into “the sun.” Then, and I’m not making it up, they both burst into laughter and walked away leaving me standing there feeling awkward and pretty unprofessional. I’m not wearing tight pants people, I’m just blessed. My gift, my curse…

Is Men in Black 3 really a good idea Sony? I can only hope a resounding “NO!” wakes me from my sleep soon. (And yes, it is in production)

It tickles me that at some point a man in a room full of executives said “I have a great idea, I think the next big movie this year will be… Tank Girl.” The fact that he walked out of the room without being beaten to death leaves me puzzled, but it tickles me to death.

As cool as most people seem to find Twitter, I refuse to believe that someone cares or want to read my every action. I’ll be that last guy who fought getting a cell phone until the Motorola RAZR came out… for free.

I’ve been giving random strangers (women) compliments and seeing how that goes. I’ll report back once the first slice of strange has been seized and mounted. thundercats… thunderCATS… THUNDERCATS… HO!!!

I’ve been waiting for my T-Mobile contract to run out in June so I can finally join the beautiful people who carry iPhones. Now, I might have to wait a little longer because Apple is certain to put out a 32GB iPhone. So help me father, why do you play these games?

My new favorite Adult Swim show is Delocated. If you have not seen it, I suggest you go check it out: http://www.adultswim.com/

Justin Timberlake (or JT to the gayer fans out there) says he will not make an album anytime soon… My heart is broken Justin, yet another Chris Tucker artist that captures my heart and urinates right into the valve. That is what I like about Lil Wayne, you can’t get enough of this man. Everyday it seems he has a new song you can find on YouTube or a mixtape somewhere. And I’m sure Tha Carter IV will be out by the summer’s end. Appreciate the fans that made you filthy rich, we’re why you can afford to bang Jessica Biel on a beige Tiger’s back Justin! I’ll miss you…

Because my roommate Kevin came home (cause he basically does not live with us) I was unable to watch LOST last night. I’ve become quite the fan and have to avoid all conversations and any media revolving around the show. All so that we could watch UFC WHATEVERTHEF*CKTHATREALITYSHOWISCALLED… blarg.

Nelson and I heard a song the other night that had about 50 consecutive seconds of censorship. LOL. Do they realize that whatever that rapper said has now done nothing but stoked the fires of my curiosity? I was blown away that someone could speak that long and not sneak a couple of words together that were deemed appropriate. That must be the dirtiest monologue known to man. It must have an effect worse than the brown noise. That’s right, a South Park reference. I’ll post the video once I ever see that song again.

Show the Fowlest some love ya’ll, he’s on the blog roll…

Eh, all this KFC I’ve ingested over the past 48 hours has not been kind to me… poop. Nelson hates that I love poop humor so much. Eat that Sean Paul Ellis, another POOP joke. Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm, just like momma used to make.

How uninteresting is life? On Saturday night I had a dream that two friends and I rode around looking for a bank that I could cash in my change at… yep.

I’m eating a Kit Kat bar. Get jealous, uh oh, someone wants one… I’ll chew with my mouth open to avoid sharing. There, she looked away.

I’ve decided to go ahead and do a website (a good one), and with all the great sites (I particularly like Weems’) I think mine would be best animated. We’ll see if it works as well onscreen as it does in my mind.

Okay, I’m gonna let this baby marinate and hopefully I’ll have great news tomorrow. If I don’t, maybe God will deliver me some Kielbasa straight from the Costco-Clause (like Santa, not as funny now that I’ve explained it… damn) to make me feel better. Here’s looking towards tomorrow.



Peaces