So here’s the thing: I’m no stranger to the “dick pic” and if you’re out there who has seen them, you know who you are and, I’m sorry. Recently I’ve been going through hell on earth with a couple of friends in my life. One friend sends me a pic of his broken dick from his girl fucking him like he’s a porno star, he’s not, he’s a normal guy with a normal dick, stop bouncing up and down like  you want to be on top of an Arizona Tea can. The other friend sends me pics on the regular of girls sucking his dick. Listen, I like dick sucking porn and shit related to that, but not my friends dick!! It’s weird to see your friends dick. I just want to be a normal pervert, not a pervert that is looking at his friends dick! Maybe I’m the crazy one, but I shouldn’t be receiving more dick pics than I produce, as s heterosexual man anyway. Fucking shit!! What the fuck is going on in my life when I get more dick pics than I send?? On a separate note, the Olympics are on right now, big fucking deal. You jumped farther than we did, cool, now what? What the fuck? Who fucking cares? You can swim, so can I . You swim faster? So fucking what, are we racing to Hawaii and the winner get’s nothing? Shut the fuck up, nice back flip bitch!

So here’s the thing: I’m a hypocrite. Fuck you! At least I can admit it. You might be thinking, how are you a hypocrite? Shit, where do I begin. I love malt vinegar on my fish and chips, but hate it when you do it because it stinks, if you don’t message me back right away I hate you, but if I don’t message you back, it’s because I’m busy, if you ask for a water with your meal and then don’t drink it, then I do the same thing on my first day off, when you’re in front of me at a red light and it turns green and you don’t go because you’re on your phone, I cuss at you like you killed a family member, then I do the same thing at the next light only I’m pissed at you for honking at me. On a separate note, I found a tortilla behind my bedroom fan this morning, and I don’t know how, or what the fuck that means.

So here’s the thing: As the bartender I say to the person who asks for two or three happy hour tacos, “how many do you fucking want, two or three?” How is ordering food so difficult for some people?

So here’s the thing: I have a lot in common with dogs and I think that’s why I love them so much. I don’t have time to own one right now, so I just pet the occasional pup outside the bar or supermarket. You might be wondering what I have in common with a dog, well I’ll tell you. We both smell everything, we both have to be told not to lick, if we get scared we head to the nearest corner, if we don’t get what we want we start wining,  and we both have an affinity for constantly showing attention to a certain part of the body.