Children should be property…

aaaaa-pic

So here’s the thing:  What’s the big deal with all this kid shit these days? Why do we have to bend over and take it up the ass so we don’t bruise or offend a child’s little pill sized brain? We make the little mother fuckers, they should be property, like a chair, or a magazine, only this chair or magazine can scrub a floor. I made this “child”, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to with it. Why is seven years old too young to have a job? Those little fuckers can clean or bring shit to adults who need shit. What if I want my “property” to stand next to the couch and hold my beer, and my bowl of Wheat Thins? Why would some consider that cruel? I made a living coffee table, I should be allowed to take advantage of that. I think everybody is all  “High and Mighty” when it comes to their children these days, not making them clean or do yard work, or even stand in an empty parking space at the movies to hold it for me while I drive around to look for a better spot. If I make more than one human traffic cone, I can put them in two or three spaces til I find the best. Why is that so bad? I feed them, keep them warm, and, let them dig in the back yard. What else do I have to do? Now I’m the bad guy? Fuck that shit, we make em, they should be working for us. On a separate note, how come on Facebook when we see people talking to dogs in a different language, we think to ourselves “How does that dog understand other languages?” Just me?

It’s just a theory…

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.

Well that’s clearly unfortunate…

smokeySo here’s the thing: I want you to listen very carefully to the advice I’m about to give you. If you’re someone who enjoys the recreational use of marijuana and also enjoys the occasional cocktail or ten, it’s very important that you never ever keep the Cortizone 10 in the same bathroom cabinet with your toothpaste. Never, ever, do that.

The bartender hates you…

drunk guy tom hanks

So here’s the thing: If you’re sleeping in the bar it’s time to go home. Don’t tell me “he’s fine, just leave him alone” What a great friend you are that it’s more important that you keep partying than it is to get your friend into a safe environment. I’ll tell you what, how about you take him out of the bar, or Denver PD will, that way it’ll only cost him about five hundred dollars to spend the night in detox. You dick. Ohhhh I’m the asshole because I wont let your friend sleep in the bar? The only thing that will make this situation better is if you argue with me for ten minutes about your friend leaving, then finally decide to carry him out of here while he vomits all over the middle of the dining room, sweet that’s exactly what just happened. I’ll just grab a mop. I should have gone to college.

What are friends for…

fat guy too

So here’s the thing: I’m picking up a friend the other day and I’m waiting outside his place for him to come down. As I sit there pondering life, because he’s never on time, I started feeling a little positive about my physical appearance. As you know I’ve gained a significant amount of weight over the past couple of years and have been reduced to showering with a t-shirt on these days, but this day I felt like I was looking better. I started to smile as I sit alone in my car. I looked up to see Greg walking towards my car. He gets in and the first words out of his mouth were “So, you don’t even suck it in anymore?” I looked down at my stomach and it looked like my seat belt was trying to kill a pregnant woman’s baby. We started laughing, then we left. Ahhhhhhh friends! Hey, I’m not bald.