New Years

It's New Years Eve right now, and I'm sitting at home drinking leftover Eggnog that I'm pretty sure went bad a week ago. This is really gonna give me gas pains. Anyway, besides my debilitating gastrointestinal problem, everything is going ok. I got annoyed the other day, which usually isn't a big deal, but for some reason this stuck. Some guy at the donut shop said to me "Happy new years!", but it was like, 3 days too early. I replied "it's actually, happy new YEAR". You know, because it wasn't new year's eve, or new year's day, he should said, happy new year, using the singular instead of the possesive which sounds like the plural. I think thats correct. Well, it's my blog, so it's correct. Anyways, the guy gave me a weird look, like he was about to have a heart attack, or like he drank bad egg nog, and he whispered "get out and never come back". So I did. He is foreign, and I think I offended him by either correcting his horrible English, or rejecting his wish that I have an infinite amount of happy new years. I don't feel bad though, he's probably taking some hard working American's job. Who am I kidding, he's probably taking my job. Do I want it? No, not really. I'm happy being the before pictures for many weight loss pill manufacturers. So happy new year's eve to everyone that I like, which does not include my crazy homicidal neighbor. He's probably watching horror movies to perfect his technique. What a creepy guy, really. I went to his house the other day to tell him to turn his tv down because the screams from the horror movie he was watching woke me up, but when he answered the door, the tv was off. He also looked like this when he answered the door...

Ok, I'm gonna go throw up from my bottom now.

I Wanna Be On TV!

So today I was flipping through the channels during a commercial on the food network when came across a show that caught my eye. It was called "extreme bodies" and it was about fat people. I mean people fatter than me. Like fatter than a sumo wrestler. Like land monsters. Ok, that might sound mean, but I'm allowed to poke fun. I mean, I'll be there in the next decade, so let me have my fun now before my quintuple heart attacks and failed quadruple bypass surgery ( don't worry, I get a heart transplant from a monkey ( a fat monkey)). In fact, while were on the subject of fat, do you think its not fun for these people to be fat? I mean, I know skinny people deprive themselves of delicious food all of the time, leading me to believe they must not know the joy of eating fatty foods. Its my guess that the average skinny person has not eaten a stick of butter like a Popsicle. Well, if that's true, then it's also my guess that the average skinny person has not really lived. Skinny people are just dumb. They deprive themselves of the paramount joy in life; eating until theres no point to life anymore. Believe me, these skinny people love the abuse, either that or they do it because they're uneducated. Really, I see it happen and it amazes me. Skinny people are like "oh, no thanks, I don't want a cupcake" or "oh, that's waaaaay too much ice cream for me".

I'm secretly panting, "WHAT THE FUUUUUCK!?!?!" as I eat handfuls of Ritz Bitz sandwhiches instead of breathing.

First of all, there is never too much ice cream, only too little. Much too little. So back that skinny, negative parabola, pancake booty up, because my fat ass is coming through, and you know what, I'm taking up all the space on the toilet seat, at the public toilets, at Wayne State University's Student Center, on the 1st floor across from barnes and nibbles, where you can shop and you'll hear it before you smell it and I bet it ruins your appetite for that soft pretzel because that gooey pretzel has twists in it, and then you'll wonder if a gas main burst so then you'll check out the men's room and you'll hear straining and sweating coming from the last stall in the row which is reserved for the handicapped, and I'll be holding onto the bars in there doing my best Olympic gymnast impression, while I give birth to a 11lb 5oz mahogany monster, which will not flush because I used way too much of the see through, rip through, make your hand brown, cheap ass, rash giving, ass hair burning, hemorrhoid causing toilet paper, and then you will understand why I physically could not accept the offer to supersize my three quater pounder and cheese meals from McDonald's.

Second of all, being fat could get you on tv apparently. So, you know, that's a positive.

Halloween

You would probably think that Halloween would be a fun holiday for me. It's not. There are a couple specific reasons for this that I will now go to great lengths to explain in a bod to clarify my fear of this unholy glucose infested holiday.

Firstly and mostly, I gain an average of 4 lbs on Halloween, and it's not water weight. I usually eat about 7-8 lbs of chocolate. This weight never subsides. the only thing that ever gets lighter is my wallet. I spend a good $5,000 on candy during Halloween. Here is a question I now pose to you, have you ever passed an entire Hershey bar unscathed through your intestinal tract? I have, so shut your brain up and keep reading. You might wonder where the money for this once yearly binge comes from. Well, I trick or treated until I was about 23, which is when I was arrested for an altercation at the Karakas' residence. Apparently I didn't appreciate the "cool" bag of pennies they gave me, and they didn't appreciate the anger a fat man feels when he is denied the sweet nectar of processed sugar. I guess I should not have punched a 67 year old retired bus driver repeatedly in the stomach, but then again, maybe he should have went to a coinstar and bought some goddamn candy with all of those pennies. So now because of my arrest I am not permitted to wear a mask on Halloween, which means no trick or treating, which therefore means I buy all of my candy, which in turn means no money. Plus, not wearing a mask leads me to my second reason to hate Halloween...

No good costumes. Whats a fat guy to do? You can only dress up like the white Al Roker or a sumo wrestler so many times. After about 4 Halloweens with the same costume people start to question you. It's like I've become the kid who always wears the same hoody to class. You just wonder what his deal is. Does he own clothes? Did he sell them? Did he lose them in a fire? Does he just own a couple of the same hoodies? Does he really like "west valley college" that much? I say this last part because the hoody is always some shitty college nobody has heard of that is lightyears away. Like "bumblefuck university" or "east stratmire state". You just wonder where exactly this kid received this hoody. Now read this, I don't want to be that kid. Here lies the problem then. What to wear? I could wear a shiny garbage bag and go as missy elliot when she was fat. I could even paint myself yellow and go as the yellow M&M. I would probably try to eat myself if I was drunk enough though. Hmmm. Any ideas would be helpful. I was thinking about going as the lost in space robot, but it could get pretty hot and smelly in that metal suit of death.

Do you think this would work? I don't think I would attract any ladies, only the attention of the high school football dads who have never grown out of high school. They'd be like,

Patrick: Hey jesse, check out this dweeb over here. Didn't he try out for Bailey township football in '85?

Jesse: Yeah, I remember him. That was the year we won states. I could have made it big if coach wouldn't have taken me out in the third quarter. That Bastard...Lets Get Him!!!

(they then proceed to wail on my metal costume)

See my problem? I need a cool costume. Any help would be appreciated. Oh wait, I don't have friends that read this blog. That leads me to my third problem...

My friends get booty on Halloween, and I don't. Yes, if you have read my older blog posts you realize that my friends dress ridiculously, and the only time they seem somewhat appropriate is when they go out for Halloween. It's funny to hear conversations between them and girls though, since they don't think that they dressed up at all. It usually goes...

Girl: Sweet costume!

Friend: Huh?!

Girl: I said I like your costume, very 80's...

Friend: Wait, what costume?

Girl: Huh?

Friend: Wanna makeout, tootze?

(consensual makeout all over bar)

And that's how it ends. My friends remain oblivious to the fact that it's not 1987 anymore, and even motley crue doesn't dress like that anymore. Oh well, maybe I'll just call the cops on my psycho neighbor. They'll probably think all of the dead bodies in his house are decorations though. I guess I'll give it a few weeks. This is what he'll look like on October 31st, but he won't even realise it's Halloween until 2 weeks later.

What're YOU Loookin' At?

So I have lots of work to do for my college classes. I know, huge failure. By the time I graduate, the kids who I thought would never graduate will have graduated. I don't think you comprehend how depressing that is. Logan, the alcoholic trainwreck from my fraternity will graduate before me. Logan always wore sunglasses, no matter the occasion. He also huffed fumes from a liquid he stole from his 101 chemistry class that he thought was "ether" and he has also drank his own puke before, although, by accident. Despite all of this evidence why he should not graduate college period; he will graduate before me. My degree will be in shitty American-English, and his will be in sports management, but thats not the point. He will have accomplished something that is actually meaningful before me. How is this possible? There are things in life that can baffle you. For example, why would you bring a baby to a library, or why would I eat cheetos and then use the public computers at said library, so my cheeto fingers leave orange fake cheeze all over the keys. I usually don't eat cheetos because it makes me look like the typical fat guy. I have orange all over my mouth and hands and I know people are thinking "damn fat guy, breathing all my air and shit. I can't even breathe. Oh My God, hes eating some more. I gotta git outta here". Its also depressing when the sight of you can make someone claustrophobic. We were outside at the time too. I wanna yell out, "its not my fault!!! Why do you make food so goddamn delicious then". When foreign people see me they just think I'm another typical American, and they couldn't be more correct. I am very American in the sense that I love apple pie. And Mcdonalds. Its delicious. Those stupid fucking Europeans, they act so cool. Like I met these Germans the other day, and they thought they were so hot to trot when I walked by. Little did they know their accents make them sound extremely gay in America. This is our conversation.

Dieter: Oh JA Fritz, jozt look at diz von. Hez a little porky iznt he?
Fritz: haha, he iz da schweine. haha, ja, ver dew you think yohr goink, little porky?
Me: What the hell? You two sound like the bad guys from Die Hard.
Fritz: you shut your mowss, little porker. Vee Germans are ze most efficient, ja?
Dieter: oh Fritz, du bist meine alle. Ich habe so viel liebe fur dich. Hast du ein Mann? Ja oder nicht meine Vaterlilly? Mein klein Schnitzel. Ich mocthe dich mit maple seerop ooooh......
Me: ........?
Fritz: Oh Dieter, du bist ein joker, jeden tag du bist ein joker.
Dieter: Ja, eine joke. Ein kleine laugh. Everee von like ein joke (sigh)
Fritz: Ja, hahah. Zank Gott vee dew not live in diz hellhole called Michigan. Ich wurde mein kopf brechen.
Deiter: Let uz leave dis fatty-cake fur some anee-mahls to eat. haha, ein bisschen zu essen?
Fritz: Ja, auf vierdersehen porky!

And thats about it. I'm subjected to abuse everywhere I go, from basically everyone. And I know what you're thinking, and yes, I was in a frat. I was the token fat guy. You always needs a token fat guy. I'd be at all the events where a token fat guy was necessary. Anyway, Goddamn Logan, I'm gonna go slash the tires on his jeep.

My Friends

Lately I've been noticing that I really don't fit in with my group of friends. They're skinny, well to do, extremely awkward people, and well, I'm fat. The other night though, I realized something. The feelings of discontent that I'm harboring towards my friends as of late are not because I think that they are better than me. Thats a girl thing. Girls don't like other girls unless they can find numerous flaws with the other girl. Follow me? Ok, well, take a look at two best girl friends. Sure they look really close and happy, but I guarantee you that both girls have some mean thing to say about each other. If they ever got in a fight, all of repressed incredibly catty, mean thoughts would all fly out. Like, "at least my nose doesn't look like Tucan Sam's" or "you wear so much makeup I cant tell if its you or Eddie Munster". So yes, girls will only hang out with girls that they feel superior to. Thats just the way it is. Thats why there are ugly sororities, and hot sororities. The ugly girls and the hot girls could not mingle. The ugly girls would be too jealous and angry all the time. * ugly girls please note that I would still date you, and in fact, have dated you. Do not hate me for giving facts. Anyone could look this up online, I mean, SOMEONE had to do a study on this. Where are my tax dollars going? Anyway, back to my feelings of irrepressible anger towards my few awkward albeit, good looking friends. I was saying, no, its not cause I'm fat and they're skinny. Theres more to it than that. I think its because I have sense of fashion for my age/body/gender, and they do not. For example, I wear sweat pants and T-shirts that say "big dawg xxxl" on them everyday. Why? Because I'm fat, asshole, thats why. My friends though, they wear some weird clothing. I'm not sure where they get their fashion tips from. Probably this guy:

You see, every time we go out, it really annoys me that people stare at us. I get that a lot anyway. Like "oh mommy look at the fat guy" or "wow mommy look its an enormous land monster". this is different though. Its more like, "look at those guys...what the....why would they...wha....aand who is that fat guy with them?". Walking around with them has made my sex life go from bad to negative. Girls are calling me up and asking me if I'll go with them to have our memories erased. Even if they don't remember, the thought of me knowing what we did is bad enough for them. Anyway, here is a picture of my friends before we walked into a club in downtown Royal Oak.

I was the one taking the picture. Obviously no one talked to any females that night.

So I stopped hanging out with this particular group of friends, which is kinda leaving me short on people to hang out with/leach onto for some sort of human companionship. I have my "psycho weirdo" friend from the gym, and this guy who lives a couple house down from me. He has no personality, no social skills, a limited vocabulary, hes creepy, and he has a bowl cut. basically he is the prototype for the bad guy from "No Country For Old Men". This is a recent picture of my friend George from down the street.

I think you can ascertain why I don't really want to socialize with this guy. I'm afraid that I am more of a chick magnet than he is. I think if he met a girl, he would have no clue what to say. He'd probably just end up telling her that hes a serial killer, not like she didn't already know that, George. I mean, have you looked in a mirror lately? So I guess if all else fails I'm gonna have to go out with my pseudo-homosexual friends if I want to have any sort of human interaction. I just wish they'd stop using English accents. I just wanna say one time "I thought you grew up in Holly, Michigan, Doug....and why are you dressed like one of the members of depeche mode". I know the only time these guys get girls is around or during Halloween. Well, unless I want to get murdered ( by George) or raped AND murdered (by my weird gym friend) I guess I have to put up with my other weird friends. Its just hard knowing that I have this to look forward to this weekend...

Burned Chicken

So today I burned some chicken in a drunken stupor at 4:25 in the morning. Thats A.M. for those of you who use 24 hour clocks. I think europeans do that. Army people do that too. Its annoying to talk to someone affiliated with the Army. Like I'll say "hey, whens the Lions game on" and they'll say something like "at 14 hundred hours, and I need you to tell bravo squad to bring the cheese dip, or else charlie is gonna have a field day with our left flank, because the salsa bowl will be vulnerable to attack from all sides due to our lack of cheese dip support. We may have to resort to our auxilliary pretzel munitions to keep tango at bay until proper backup arrives, but I dont think we will be able to operate on all fronts. Damn this war...". Then I'll usually say something like "I'll bring my own dip" or "who the hell is Tango? Is he from South America?". Its hard being me sometimes. The only people I'm friends with are those who are delusional or awkward. Like my friend from the gym that I go to so I can tell everyone I have a gym membership even though its more like a "stare at the 45 year old ladies on the stairmaster" membership. Wow what a run-on sentence. I was actually thinking that maybe I'm spelling "stairmaster" wrong. In my experience its more like a "stare-master". Haha, whos gonna give me a virtual high five? Oh, oh I see, well I tried, Anyway, where was I? Oh, my friend from the gym. Wait, before I go on, don't you like it when people type like they talk? Like I just said, "where was I", even though I couldv'e read two lines back and found out where I was in my thought process. My brain feels fatter than normal, hmmm. Anyway, my friend at the gym is the guy nobody likes. He sweats profusely, and wears the same gym clothes everyday, and worst of all, he screams when he lifts. You know hes there because he'll go "AHHHHHOOOOOOOAAAAAAHHHH-WWHAAAAAAAHHH and then a vein in his head will explode and he'll leave the gym in a stretcher. Since I'm the fat guy at the gym, and I also sweat profusely and smell, noone likes me either. So it made sense to make friends with the other guy noone likes, even though I think that I am a little higher than him on the social ladder at the gym. I mean, I have an excuse, I fat, the other guy, hes just crazy. In addition, the only time I scream at the gym is when I drop one of my candy bars at my feet and I cant bend over to pick it up. Things have become so grim that now I don't even try to bend over or kneel down. Now I usally take off my shoes and socks and grab it with my toes and then carefully manuever it to one of my hands. Anyyyway, that just brought down my sex appeal from microscopic to even more microscopic. I think I'm in the molecular realm now. Time to make you forget I'm fat through my ability of confusion. So, I'm gonna start from the beginning. I made chicken when I was drunk, but I fell asleep while it was frying. I mustve drank 40 bud lights and lime, so I passed out. I woke up 6 hours later to a smoky inferno in my kitchen, and for a minute I really thought, "oh no, I just went shopping too". Really. I wasn't scared for my life or the cost of the damage, I was scared because I just went shopping and all that food was gonna burn. What a waste. Its ok though, I took out the chicken and it ended up just being a bunch of smoke. Luckily for my food. Anyway, the scene that followed probably would've gave Gordon Ramsey a brain aneurism. Some half naked fat dude covered in hot wing barbeque sauce and sticky beer holding burned chicken in a kitchen that looked like it belonged on the exorcism set. And it smelled too. Like burned bacon grease and crisco fat. The smell hasn't gone away in fact. Its just lingered throughout my house. So now I'm the typical fat guy. I'm fat, filthy from condiments, and I smell like a high school cafeteria. People probably think I sleep in a fry cooker. My clothes are forever ruined. My towels all smell like this bacon fat stench, so when I dry off from my bath, I get the smell all over me. I'm a little uneasy because I woke up the other night licking my own arm because it smelled so good. This cant be a good sign. If you read about a fat guy eating himself to death on AOL's weird zany news, it's probably me. Or if you read about a fat guy farting too much and then dying from the gas, there is a good possibility that that was me too. That that, what an awkward sentence. I should really rephrase that...Any suggestions? Or do you think that thats ok?

It had to be done...

Ever have those days where you wake up, and you think, "today is gonna be great"? Me too! That feeling usually ends when I realize that I'm feeling so good because I overslept and that I missed work/class/My birthday/final exam/the apocolypse ect. It happens a lot to me. I think someone is unplugging my alarm clock. Ok, I wont even lie, I don't own an alarm clock. They are so old fashioned. I usually just drink excess amounts of liquid before I go to bed, so that the sudden urge to pee will wake me up in time to go to class. While I'm on the subject, I wonder if anyone else in the world regrets not peeing before leaving the house. This happens to me too frequently. I'll be out the door and in my car when suddenly I'll think, "man, I should've pee'd before I left". That usually ruins my whole car trip. Of course I'm not gonna run back inside to relieve myself, because then somehow I'll end up checking my email, whats on tv, whats in the fridge, whats on cnn.com, who stole my funyuns ect. Lately checking my email has been a pain. Everyday I get like 10 messages from some African prince/princess telling me that they want to split their entire fortune of ancient cursed gold with me before their evil father and/or brother comes and steals their money. All they need from me is to send $100 to zimbabwe so they can open a joint account. Oh, and they also need my social security number. I wonder how they got my email address. It must have been when I signed up for that contest at the bar in downtown detroit to win Tiger's tickets. I don't even like the Tigers. I also wonder why they think I'm muslim. Its weird. Every message begins like this...



Hasalasa-lakam (which isn't even correct),

Greetings to you fellow islamic MALE. I am an African princess sworn to Allah and the Quaran. I am rich but my evil brother wishes to kill me and steal my wealth. Everyday he tells me, "I will one day kill you maybe. I chose you to share my riches before my probable, inevitable murder. If you wish to possess the riches of my father , Jafar, you must do exactly as I say. Kindly send $100 U.S. dollars to 245 Hope Drive, Los Angeles Ca, 90078. I will open a joint account for you, and deposit the gold into the account somehow. I will also send you my magic carpet that my husband Alladin found in the Tiger sand cave. By the way, would Bank of America work for you? I am not sure if they have hidden charges. And send me your social security number holmes, cause my hombres can use that shit. I mean, praise be to Allah the merciful, the creator of all things. I wish to hear from you soon, unless I am dead, and its your fault. If you need me I may be in Mecca visiting my relatives Carlos and Jorge.

Sincerly

Hector....I mean, Ashanti.



Ok, I know what you're thinking. And you're right, I didn't add enough detail. That and I kind of exaggerated the part where the author of the message did not know how to use the backspace button. I'm thinking he used a type writer and scanned it in to his computer, and then sent it. Or maybe he has one of those devices that types when you talk. Thats a possiblility. The other problem with my sample letter is that at the end it seems as if a Central American man had actually written the letter in order to get his "hombres" into the country. I know, dumb. The only other problem I see with the sample letter is that LA's zip code isn't 90078. I think I heard that from Amerca's Funniest Videos. I think thats the zip code for where you send your tapes. Not that I've ever sent any in, only to be told that I didn't make the cut. Why Tom Burgeron, Why?