By Reece (email Reece)Lent ended yesterday and faster than you can say Jesus Christ! all those Lenten sacrifices that Catholics like I have given up are no longer in play. People who gave up beer were swimming in suds by noon yesterday, while those who gave up candy are slowly just now coming down from their sugar rush after inhaling Cadbury Crème eggs for 9 straight hours. I gave up pizza, which may seem trivial unless you know me and know that I consider pizza the fifth food group. Actually I consider it like the Megazord of the other food groups because you have dairy (cheese), grains (the crust), the tomato sauce (vegetables) and meat (pepperoni, sausage, ham, etc). It’s simply put the greatest food in the history of man. Pizza is fuckin Nirvana in my book.
By Reece (email Reece)
I just recently upgraded to a smart-phone. I never thought I’d make the move after being thoroughly convinced at one time that smart phones were an unnecessary overindulgence of our current ADD culture and phones shouldn’t have to do everything for you other than call somebody or text somebody. Then I got one…and holy shit was I wrong. Email, bill paying, websites, YouTube, Wikipedia – I could do it all on my tiny little hand held gift from God, and what more, I could do while pooping! That’s right, the smart phone has become the best thing about taking a shit – all the thing you can while you poop. I can look up movies times and check reviews to see which one I want to catch this weekend, I can check sports scores from last night’s west coast games, and I can pay my perpetually late electric bill on nationalgrid.com - all from the comfort of my toilet.
By Reece (email Reece)
I did once complain about my terrible office bathroom, but today the above scene really just took place. I seriously just witnessed a symphony of farts. I didn’t know whether to wretch or fall down with laughter. I think in between my fits of laughter and dry heaves – it occurred to me that despite being almost 30 years old, I still laugh my ass off at farts. Fart jokes, loud farts, people that fart at in opportune times, and the whole fart genre still kills me. In fact, one the hardest times I ever laughed into my entire life and I remember this like absolute clockwork is one time at church: I must have been 16 or 17 and the guy two pews (not a pun but perfect) ahead of us just ripped a purebred fart right after the homily. I seriously almost choked to death trying to stifle my laughter and I had to actually to get up and leave right before communion because I thought my head was going to explode. Even writing and thinking about it now, I am tearing up at the memory of this gloriously inappropriate fart.
It goes two fold for me with mother jokes. Again – almost 30 and the amount of the mother jokes that circulate between my circle of friends are still as mother heavy as the elementary school playground. In fact the older we get – the more sophisticated they become. Fantasy team names, tee shirt graphics, facebook posts – it is like mother jokes have evolved and been embraced by the digital age. Mother jokes never get old. Why? Because every has a mother and they are all dirty whores. See – it’s so easy. It’s a comedy lay-up. I imagine in the future people will be creating elaborate 3-D telegrams to send via email or whatever system comes after email to Mother-Bomb their buddies. You wake up, it’s 2030, you get a notice from your iFacebook (I picture Tron-style fully automated robot that exists within the facebook interactive network that is you) and he opens up a hologram window and it’s your buddy from his townhouse on the moon with a photo-shopped picture of your mom giving a Martian a b.j. Classic future mother joke.
So I don’t see any stop to it. I can’t honestly see any point in my life when I won’t make fun of Angry Artie’s whore of a mother or I won’t rename my fantasy football team to butcher and disgrace the mothers that I have grown up with amongst my friends for years and years. And farts will never cease to make me crack a smile. Even at age 80, if I’m on my death bed and surrounded by my kids and grandkids – if one of them kiddies squeaks one out, I am gonna starve off death just a bit longer to laugh it up and critique the smell.
By Reece (email Reece)
So I am currently planning a wedding to my beloved blonde. Most people find this to be the most stressful, crazy time of their life. The flowers, the food, the budget, the mother in law! But I have been, dare I say, enjoying the ride. I’ve taken a sick pleasure in creating the seating chart and placing my friends at various table locations some kind of giant wedding Stratego board. I am making sure that bacon wrapped scallops are provided at the snap of a finger – if I’m able, they’d be all 5 courses. And I am building the ultimate playlist to DJ – I am making sure the music is only the best and freshest. No chicken dance or electric slide garbage at this wedding, no sir. As for the other stuff – food, flowers, whatever – I’m cool with whatever the fiancée goes with. If I even notice they’ll be flowers there it will be a win for me. But the one thing I feel like I must have say in is the first dance.
By Reece (email Reece)
So I am at a red light the other day, enjoying my morning coffee, the real greatest invention of the 21st century - the homemade Keurig (fuck Brokaw - we are truly the Greatest Generation) when at the light across from me sits a Lowell police cruiser. I think nothing of it as it is 7am and I am not hammered and I calmly wait for the light to turn. So we get a green on both sides and I accelerate through the intersection. The cruiser should have passed me perpendicular going the other direction but nope he sits there at the green light. I couldn’t tell if he’s asleep or on the phone, but basically he wasn’t moving. He continued to sit there as I continued down the road and even as he faded out of the sight, looked like he never moved.
By Reece (email Reece)
Normally I try to live my life by the principal that more boobs equals more good. There has never been a moment in my life where I have seen boobs, and have said, this is bad. Even bad boobs are still that, boobs. It’s like pizza for me. Bad pizza is still pizza – bad boobs is still boobs. Boobs I wouldn’t be seeing otherwise so I’ll take em. But hear me out on this.
By Seagull (e-mail Seagull)
This is an honest question. In fact, I’m not even writing this blog as a sneaky way to make fun of her, at least not entirely…I first asked this question when I saw her come on stage in a giant egg at the Grammy’s, and then again when I saw her dressed as a giant condom on Good Morning America. Everywhere she goes she’s dressed like its Halloween, each appearance more bizarre than the next. And for whatever reason people go ape shit for anything and everything she does, like she’s some sort of freak show savant. You would have thought she landed on the moon the way people were talking about that stupid egg entrance, as if it were some culturally significant moment. I keep hearing that her entire life is staged and that everything she does is done with a purpose to make people think. Blah, blah, blah. Really? Has anybody even considered the fact that maybe she’s just a fucking weirdo?
While we're not trolling the streets looking for just anyone (during daylight anyway), we're always looking for new talent here at Mindwafers. Every now and then we have people approach us wanting to be writers for the site, and if they've never done it before we ask them to show us what they got by leaving comments. We've had some good ones here and there, but there was one we received yesterday that blows all the rest away. It was so good, it left the staff wondering, should we hire this guy? So check it out and then at the end of the post vote whether or not you want to hear more from him.
The following is the comment posted by Seagull in response to How to get totally blackout drunk.....the healthiest way possible
This is great info. I've recently done some research of my own in this regard given that I started a new workout routine about 6 weeks ago. I knew that my nefarious lifestyle was going to present a few problems to the success of this program. First and foremost hangovers... For those of you over the age of 30 you know what I'm talking about. Mine are legendary... I can barely pour a bowl of cereal after a night of debauchery with my friends, most of whom still believe drinking for 10 hours straight and staying up until 4:00 in the morning is perfectly acceptable behavior for a 33 year old man. Working out the next day just isn’t an option.
By Reece
Chalk this up as something I thought I'd never blog about....so this weekend at a Super Bowl party I happened to run into a female friend who I had met through my fiance. This is a person I don't think I've ever had more than a small-talk, very basic conversation with - I even feel weird saying she is a friend. I have run into her probably less than 10 times in my life.
But here's the thing - she is a hardcore hello-kisser. Each and every time we run into each other, I get a kiss hello on the cheek like clockwork. I didn't notice it the first time we met, but every time she was there - there it was. A quick embrace hello and the ol peck on the cheek. Each and every time. It is absolutely the most random and perplexing thing on the planet. Now before you label me a pig - I swear on a stack of Bibles written by my mother there is absolutely zero sexual vibe or attractive thing going on here. Zilch. I am more confused than anything. I thought the kiss hello went away with neon tank tops and z cavaricci of the 90s. The only people that kiss hello anymore are grandmothers, aunts, and people with vowels in their last name - and even that, they reserve that shit for family members. I told myself before the party there's no possible way I'm getting a kiss hello - it had been like 8 months since I last ran into her and it's a sloppy Super Bowl party surrounded by beer pong, chicken wings and Ben Roethlisberger rape jokes. But sure enough, as I enter the party, there she is - and I get the wave, the embrace, and the kiss hello.
Of course my fiance thinks I'm the psychopath for noticing this. So what the fuck is going on? Is this weird enough that I should be noticing? Or does every person have a kiss hello friend that doesn't play by society's rules? I tend to side with Jerry on the kiss hello - not my bag but how the hell do you tell someone that?
By Reece
Yesterday my fiance's car died, mostly due to New England slowly morphing into the planet Hoth in the last few days. Luckily, I am still on my parents' AAA account - one of the 127517th things that I don't really realize and totally take for granted - and was able to send over a trusty tow truck. The guy, Sam (maybe Moe, or Ned - big guy, short name) arrived and couldn't have been nicer. Within no time he fired up the battery, got the car juices flowing again, and had her car prepared for yet another week of below freezing temperatures.
Now here my conundrum. After about 5 minutes of tedious small talk where we had exhausted every possible small talk topic possible (sports, weather, traffic, random landmarks in the area), I was ready to get my cold ass back in the house. Yet he remained, chatting away. Why was he still talking? Was he planning to murder us? And I had a thought - crap am I supposed to tip him? Much like everything around me - I was frozen. I actually had cash on me, but I have no idea the protocol on these situations. And while he didn't have his hand out or look like he was fishing, he was definitely hanging around a lot longer than he had to. Finally he broke away and left and I was left to ponder that age old question, do you tip the AA guy?
I have never tipped a AAA guy before but the more I think about it, has there ever been a person more deserving of a tip than a AAA or tow truck guy? You tip bartenders, waitresses, delivery guys, valets - but tow trucks and AAA legitmately save your ass. They swoop in like greasy Supermen to rescue you from whatever car trouble you may have. They fix tires, jump your car, unlock your doors, tow your car, and what do we give them? An embarrassed, pathetic "thank you." Disgraceful.These gusy should have parades from them. Aren't these guys deserving to be tipped? I would rather tip them than some waitress or bartender who fucks up your order or leaves you hanging on the next round of drinks for 45 minutes. Don't get me wrong - I understand a lot of waitresses and bartender do excellent work for a piddling wage. But who would you rather give your money to - some girl who brings you pre-poured drinks or someone who pops the top off a refridgerated beer and places it in front of you, or the guy who pulls your ass out the freezing cold on the side of the road and takes you and your car to safety?
For me it's a no brainer. I'll pour my own fuckin drinks just like I pump my own gas.
What do you think, Mindwafers world? Should I have tipped the AAA dude?
|
RSS Feed
