Category Archives: Radio

Once upon a time…

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me-and-mel

So here’s the thing: Today my mother sent me a picture of me when I was 16 or 17 years old. It was some stupid glamour shot photo for high school or some shit, but the amazing part is what I looked like. I looked thin, happy and handsome, which leads to the question of “what the fuck happened?” OMG I look like a swollen city buss driver now! If I didn’t have all my teeth people would think I was homeless but with access to a dumpster full of processed meat. I felt like there should have been a caption under the picture that read “Jay, this is what you looked like when I was proud of you” When I woke up this morning, or afternoon if you want to be technical, I was half way in a good mood and thinking optimistically about my life and a future full of smiles and blow jobs, but that magic picture came through on my phone reminding me that the best years of my life are over and happiness is just an illusion for desperate eyes. I cried in the mirror for about twenty minutes as I cussed at my reflection for being worthless and a disappointment to the universe, then I realized it could be worse, at least I’m not depressed. On a separate note, I’m thinking pop tarts for dinner tonight.

It’s just a theory…

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matrix

So here’s the thing: I have a theory. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the movie the Matrix, but if you are than you’ll understand where I’m coming from, if you’re not, well, stop reading this. I don’t think we’re butt necked in a pod somewhere and there are machines using our bodies for energy, but I do think some of us might be in the “Mental Yogurt Matrix”. What I mean by that is clearly there are people who are mentally off, let’s face it, some people are shit fucking crazy. So what if I’m one of these crazy people? Would I know it? What if what I think is reality is actually the Mental Yogurt Matrix? I think that I produce a radio show, work in a sports bar, and pour drinks at Sports Authority Field for the Broncos games, but what if the reality is that all I produce is human waste, live in the parking lot of a sports bar and pour hand sanitizer into a Gatorade bottle that I took out of the trash? I’d like to believe that my home is in a quiet neighborhood with families and children playing in the front yard, but maybe I’m actually under a tree in the parking lot next to a busy street and the families and children playing are the cars driving past me with high school kids heckling me because I’m playing “Go Fish” with a dead squirrel named Federico. That my friends is the “Mental Yogurt Matrix”. At this point, I think I’m leaning towards the parking lot. On a separate note, I had to google how to spell “quiet”, so if you’ve ever thought that I was unintelligent, you would be right.

Online is mentally offline.

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online dating

So here’s the thing? I know that a lot of you are online dating and looking for love. Let me tell you who is online looking for sex, and kinky parking lot head…….every fucking guy online. Ladies, you have to trust me on this one, for once trust me. I know this may piss off some of the guys out there who read my blog, but fuck you, I’m being honest and hopefully scoring points because I’m a perv too, only I’m honest about it. I’ve never been online to meet a woman, but I know guys who have and the story usually ends with “she licked my asshole and I didn’t know what to do” or “she shit on me man, shit on me.” or “she was crying and jacking me off at the same time, how the fuck do I enjoy that?” I don’t know what the answer is with computer dating, but I know that it’s more of a hook up world than a fall in love world. Call me pessimistic or cynical, but I speak the truth. On a separate note, stop posting pictures of your fucking dogs doing nothing, it’s fucking stupid and we fucking hate it. If you keep doing it then, fuck you and the look on my face should confirm that feeling.

What the F do I do?

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musclekid

So here’s the thing: Have you ever messed with a girl a little, you know, flirting and shit, just to see what’s up? Then you go over to her house and this little crazy kid mother fucker comes out talking about, “what’s up homie?” “Why you talkin to my momma?” “What the fuck homie?” Inside of your head your like “fuck you little kid, don’t worry about what the fuck I be doin!” but at the same time this little mother fucker is stacked up, so then you start thinking, “shit, is this little fucker gonna roll me up?” Keep in mind, this dude is like five years old I think, I don’t know, I don’t have those things. Damn! It’s scary like a mother fucker to be afraid of a little kid! I get being afraid of a teenager, they have guns and shit, but a five year old? This mother fucker be like “What’s up homie?, stay away from my mom homie!” He has little veins popping out of his little muscly arms and shit! I haven’t been to the gym in twenty years and this little five year old mother fucker is coming at me with some real shit, man to man type shit! “Watch me do a thousand push ups and beat your ass homie!” “Watch me move your pussy ass car out of the driveway without a key homie!” “I’ve never had a boner and it’s bigger than your’s homie” “If you touch my mom, I’ll touch you’rs homie” “You think you’re funny? It’s because you’re  a joke homie” “You think you spit game? Your game is spitless homie” “You looking for Pokemon? I poked your mom homie” On a separate note, if you’re the person that doesn’t turn left on a yellow light after the green arrow, then you’re  a whore and I hope you get crabs, just because you made me wait for the next green arrow.

The Bartender hates you…

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IMG_20160802_222030

So here’s the thing: “I’m a reasonable guy, but I’ve just experiences some very unreasonable things” If you can tell me what movie that is from without using google, I’ll suck your dick. If you don’t have a dick, I’ll suck whatever’s down there. Do you want to know why I hate “you”? Because your the bitch that wears so much fucking lipstick that you actually change the mood I’m in on a daily basis. Who would of thought that the importance of how sexy you think you look and the cost that you’re willing to show it off, would actually change who I am as a human. I’m blown a away. I’m speechless. I actually think I’m smarter for having to think how fucking bizarre you are to do this and think it’s normal. You’ve educated me with your lipstick, and not in the fun way. On a separate note, you know you have a good friend when the phone call from him starts by him saying “Hey, you remember when I told you I think I have two assholes?” Listen, like, share, thanks.