Nic is funny

My guess is no one ever visits this blog anymore. But this is my friend Nic that none of you know or will ever know. Unless you're Brad he's funnier than you. If you are Brad, it's equal.

I make an appearance.

Everett, WA

Dear blog,

Right now I'm sitting threesies in Carp's truck with Carp and Mary. We're sitting in heavy traffic.

This morning I woke up in a Comfort Inn in Canada! Can you imagine?!?!

Anyways, we had Tim Hortons for breakfast and then grilled cheese for lunch.

I might be bored right now.

Bye for now!

Living a Lie

There are three stories about my childhood that my mom loves to tell people. I've always been a little embarrased of them, but in recent months I've begun to embrace them. I realize that I've been living a lie, and I'd prefer if everyone found out about these stories from me.

1. I nursed till I was three. Most people are shocked when they hear this. All I can say is, it was the early 80's, that's sort of what people did back then. I'd don't see why people embraced glam rock and jean jackets, and business people could do blow in the bathroom during lunch, but for some reason my nursing raises eyebrows. I did a little research on Wikipedia and it turns out that Denzel Washington, Ron Jeremy, and the Dali Lama all nursed till they were three, and I think that list speaks for itself.

2. I used to be terrified of the wind. I grew up watching the Neverending Story and in the end the Nothing comes along and destroys Fantasia. One scene of that movie that has burned itself into my mind is the scene where Atreju is desperately clinging onto a tree as the Nothing rips him away. Yeah, I'm still a little scared of the wind.

3. When I was four year old I thought I had a vagina, so I ran into my mom’s room and told her the big news. She was shocked and asked where I thought my vagina was located. I sat down on the floor, rolled back and pointed to my taint. I know this is weird, but in my defense I grew up with three sisters and I guess I felt left out. The taint can be a confusing thing to discover at such a young age. Many of its secret and mysteries are yet to be released. I read an article once that said the average man only uses 3 to 4 percent of their taint, so maybe I was onto something, I just didn’t know how to interpret it.

Chalking it up to Chapped Lips.

I go to Pete's in the morning. They give me coffee for $1.70. I put a Splenda and some cream in it. I drink it on the way to work while listening to NPR. I finish my coffee around 10:00 AM and reluctantly work until the sun goes down. I drive past Pete's again on my drive home. Repeat.

At Pete's there is a tall young employee with whom I engage in almost daily verbal battles. He is unaware that he's verbally jousting with me, but he doesn't have to know for me to verbally joust with him. (I'm going to say that clever phrase once more, because as I repeat it in my mind it begins to lose its meaning 'verbal joust, verbal joust, verbaljoust, herbalbloust, blerbalgoust, etc.')

Today I ordered my usual beverage in the usual way "Medium coffee with room for cream please." The employee responds "alrighty a coffee with room, would you like any delicious pastries with your coffee?" He gestures towards the pastry shelf.

(Judges in Brad's head: Excessive use of the term 'delicious' one point for the employee.)

I needed something to respond with, "No thank you, I just finished my delicious soy smoothie."

(Judges in Brad's head: A 'delicious' cancels a 'delicious' employee is back to zero points.)

The employee returns with my cup of coffee "alrighty, here's your coffee and I left you a little room for dancing."




Touche' Motherfucker.

Blog

This is a blog entry. In this line I am making a quirky joke and giving you a general idea of the theme of today’s blog. In this line I am making a very strong joke, this joke serves a dual purpose; it makes you laugh and also confirms your suspicions of what this blog will be about. This is the thesis of my blog. Now I have a very weak joke, you and I both think I should have gone straight into the defense of my thesis instead of extending the thesis paragraph.

Now I begin the defense of the slightly outrageous premise set up by my thesis statement. This defense will probably take one to two paragraphs. There is an outstanding joke here; it contains shock value and cleverness. You don’t even notice this sentence because the joke in the previous sentence was so strong. This sentence was directly related to the sentence that preceded it, you have to go back and reread the sentence you missed. While you do, you think about the joke again. On the third try, you realize that the sentences you missed weren’t that important as the point of the blog is to amuse you and not really to defend an indefensible premise. Here I make a sharp point that reinforces the outrageous claim that I’ve made in my thesis. Amazing joke happens here. Great follow up joke (with a bonus joke in parentheses). You’re really amused now and I spend little time on my transition sentence.

In this paragraph I begin running out of steam. I should have left my blog entry as a two paragraph thing. I say something here, but what you realize is that sometimes the problem with a premise is it sounds good when you talk about it out loud, but when you see it in practice it can lose some steam. I try desperately to maintain what I’m doing. I misspell a word in this sentence, I’m clearly getting lazy. I weakly end this paragraph with a quite corny pun; it is the only pun I will use in this blog.

Except for the pun I decide to use to open the conclusion paragraph, it is worse than the first pun I used, you hate it. I make another weak joke. Here, I repeat my thesis. I have nothing else to say, but I squeeze off one more joke. The grammar in this sentence is horrible.

I sign off with something that I think is clever, followed by a comma,

My Name

Tired of Lies

It’s time to come clean. Rocky IV is a better movie than Star Wars. Rocky IV is a better movie than Empire Strikes Back. Rocky IV is a better movie than Return of the Jedi. If you took the best elements of the original three Star Wars movies and made them into a cohesive piece of cinema, Rocky IV would be better. I said it, and I’ll say something else too. Rocky IV is better than a lot of movies, but we all knew that. The one thing that needs to be said is this: the Star Wars films just aren’t that good. This is not something I’ve always felt. When I was a kid I loved Star Wars. When I was a teen, I would talk about how when I was a kid I loved Star Wars. When I was a young adult, I would talk about how I loved Star Wars (the teenage me didn’t want to appear to be uncool). But now I realize that I don’t think Star Wars is good. If you gave me the choice of watching any of the Star Wars movies or Rocky IV, I’d take Rocky IV, every single day of the week, and I’ll tell you something. It feels good. Most people would now dissect this opinion, talk about why they have an unpopular opinion. They would present a thesis, they would make an argument, but I’m not going to, I’m just going to make the statement and rest easy in the knowledge that I didn’t work that hard.

The New Me

I’ll preface by saying that there are two mes (Is that how you’d spell the plural for me?). There is the old me and the new me. The old me was of the opinion that I should always be nice to girls because you never knew when they might decide to let you do physical things with them (hooray!). The new me, is very mean to girls, because all those years of being nice never really paid off. I now understand that being mean won’t necessarily help me sleep with anyone, but at least it’s my choice. I’m in control. The old me didn’t get laid because he was an ugly nerd who couldn’t talk to a beautiful woman because he was scared of farting. The new me doesn’t get laid because he’s an asshole.

This weekend the new me went to a bar. It was a crowded bar that smelled like sweat. It was unpleasant. A friend of mine was having a “going away” party so I was obligated to stay at this bar. I bought an expensive beer and reclused myself to a booth with a couple of good friends. We were talking, enjoying ourselves thoroughly, despite the sweaty smell and the popped collars that were prevalent. Then I decided to take a bathroom break

When I returned to our table, two ladies had joined us. I was introduced to them by my friend. Girl #1, we’ll call her Christine (could be her real name, could not be her real name, I’m not telling), shook my hand, smiled, looked me in the eye and said something along the lines of: “nice to meet you.” “Nice to meet you too,” I replied. So far I liked Christine. She seemed nice. Then I shook Jen’s hand (that is definitely her real name). Jen shook my hand (sort of), looked me in the eye (wait, no she didn’t she looked at the table), and said, “Uh-huh.” “Nice to meet you too,” I replied. I did not like Jen so far, but I decided to give her a little leeway. Turns out Christine was a friend of my buddies from college, but I did not know it at the time.

Christine seemed to be pretty enraptured by my buddy so I tried to strike up a little conversation. I knew that Christine and Jen had a pre-existing connection to my friends, but I did not know what it was.

“So, Jen, how do we know you? What’s the connection?” queries myself.

“Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about it, it doesn’t matter.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t fucking worry about it, fuck you. Don’t fucking worry about it.”

Wow. I had no idea what to say to Jen on this one. At this point, I recognized that Jen was going to be a bitch. Nothing was going to change that fact. Old me would have pressed further, Jen was pretty. Old me would have prayed that if I just kept being nice to her she would relent and kiss me, or possibly let me feel her lovely lady lumps (yay Black Eyed Peas!). But new me, knew that there was no hope for kissing Jen. New me didn’t even want to kiss Jen. New me wanted to make Jen have the worst night of her life. New me wanted Jen to hate me for real reasons as opposed to whatever arbitrary reason she had selected.

“Wow, you suck.”

“What?”

“You clearly suck. You’re rude and mean. I bet no one likes you.”

This was fun.

Jen was leveled. She muttered a sullen fuck you, but barely audible. Jen pulled out her cell phone and began blackberrying or whatever it is you do, when you’re in a bar and having a bad time. Ordinarily, I would’ve let up, I would’ve just enjoyed watching Jen do her blackberry crap. But Jen had been so randomly mean to me that I could not rest. I asked her if she was having the worst night of her life. “Fuck you,” was the reply. Sounded like a yes to me. As Jen walked away from the table I caught her out of the corner of my eye giving me the middle finger.

“You’re flipping me off, Jen! You’re the meanest person I’ve ever met!”

At this point, I was the bad guy. Jen’s attitude had now been earned. Jen was being a bitch to me because I was being an asshole to her. As the night wore on, I pressed her. I was a gigantic cocksucker. It felt great.

At the end of the night I turned to Christine. I asked her, “Christine, do you think I have a chance with Jen?”

Without hesitation she replied, “No.”

Fuck, I was really hoping she’d come around.

SPAM.

Remember the days before the do-not-call list, when our home phone lines were constantly bombarded with telemarketers. I remember when a telemarketer would call during dinner and ask for my Dad, my Mom would always tell them he's dead. She thought that the emotional turmoil she was potentially causing the unwelcome caller was an adequate punishment for the disturbance.

We live in a more sophisticated time now, with do-not-call lists protecting our phones and spam filters protecting our e-mail, mass marketing is being forced to adapt.

Inevitably though a prescription drug e-mail or penis enlargement e-mail finds its way through. Today I received this little gem in my g-mail account. Before you read just ask yourself, what the hell are they advertising? I had no clue spam could be so poetic.


Subject: SAD TO HAVE SHORT D1CCK, BIGGER 2" NOW AT LOW human

Window did arms pride black use. Reference reading evening hard. You allow bought leader news we? Happened companion thats? Raise she fascinate added. Young nothing wanted find immediate? Goes steps rich social reply studied, reference taught profession. Young promised similar anything. Pretty end leader not disappoint raise? Taught young whom again anything motor.

Oscar Season Part 2!!!

Hey Kids, it's time for more Oscar movie reviews(not reviews by Oscar, reviews about movies that are nominated for Oscars). It's Joe's reviews of movies nominated for Oscars, but more accurately, it's summaries of movies...oh, whatever.

This weeks selection...Capote.

SPLIT SCREEN -
Brad and Joe are on the phone. Joe is sitting in his room comparing his arms. He is trying to figure out if one arm is more tan than the other because he drives South to get to work in the morning. Brad is shaving with the Gilette Fusion.

Joe: What are you up to?

Brad: Shaving with the Fewsh.

Joe: The Fewsh?

Brad: The Gilette Fusion, brah, six blades, brah.

Joe: How's the shave?

Brad: Delish.

Joe: Umm...Hey, have you seen Capote?

Brad: Nope.

Joe: Me either. Do you want to go see it?

Brad: How do you think it is?

Joe: Pretty good.

Brad: Cool. You want to go today?

Joe: Not today, maybe tomorrow?

Brad: I'm busy tomorrow.

Joe: Ok. Cool. Maybe some other time.

Brad: Yeah, whenever.

Joe: Have you ever noticed whether or not one of my arms is more tan than the other?

Brad has finished shaving.

Brad: Bro, my face is so smooth right now.

THE END

More to come, kids. Or not, we'll see.