Wear a disguise in public.

"I'm not sure why you're trying to get a second cup of free water sir, but the disguise is unnecessary. Because the water, like I just mentioned, is free and all."Why wear a disguise in public? Why NOT wear a disguise in public? Think about how you'd react if you saw someone wearing a fake Burt Reynolds 'stache with a weird dreadlock wig and some Super Mario suspenders. Would it be the highlight of your day? I guess that depends on how shitty your day was, but it at least has potential to be the first thing you tell to someone else when they ask you about your day:

"I was just walking down the street, minding my biz, and all of the sudden I glance left to see Super Burt Marley shakin' his junk, sarbling all up and down the street! And I think he was eating some old mac n' cheese with his bare hands. It was weird." (see last post for made up definition of "sarble")

Something tells me you have an eye-patch in your bedroom. Not sure why. But I think you do. Wear it tomorrow. Wear it with some overalls and a Raggedy Andy red wig. I see good things in your future.*

*good things may or may not include a day full of people pointing and/or laughing at your expense

Oh, and don't duct-tape your fucking face. Why, Sweet Sassy Molassey, WHY would you ever think this is a good idea?


So in recapping, once again:
-Wear a diguise.
-Don't duct-tape your fucking face.

Good day everyone.

Coin a phrase.

I was considering creating the term "Peanut Formalwear" to use when I see someone stylishly dressed in top-hat and monocle, but for the life of me I can't decide if that phrase should only be used when the person is also not wearing any pants.I doubt you can go a day in your life without hearing a phrase or term that, upon further examination, doesn't really make a lot of sense. Heck, even though all words were at one point made up out of thin air, some that we take for granted came much, much later than others. I just learned that the word "laser" is actually an acronym for "light amplification by the stimulated emission of radiation." How on earth the acronym for that mouthful of words ended up sounding as kickass as the word "laser" is just pure luck.

Today, as an exercise in creativity (and a plea from me to you to use your time on something other than the many godawful quizzes on Facebook), it's time to develop a word, phrase or term. Ready? Go.

Oh, right, you haven't been creative since you made that video presentation for your 11th grade world history project. You're probably a little rusty. Here are some quick examples to get you started. For all of these, I decided to get the assistance of the animal community.

• "Ostrich holiday": A day off from work or school when you don't do shit, but simply bury your head in the ground and pretend you don't have to go to work or school the next day, aka a rather poor use for a holiday.
  
• "Ride moose" (wink!): Poor execution or misuse of a perfectly advantageous situation, kind of like trying to ride a moose, which is not quite the best use of such an unpredictable beast, i.e. "That kid was given every opportunity to succeed, but instead he decided to ride moose for 4 years of college with no degree to show for it, and now he works at McDonald's and smells like french fries. Why the hell does he always smell like french fries, even on days when he doesn't work? What's up with that guy?"
  
• "Frog-n-toad": A term to describe friendship, in an effort to replace the term "BFF" which drives me fucking insane, i.e. "Jill and I are frog-n-toad." It can also be used to downgrade a perceived romatic relationship, i.e. "No we're not dating, we're just frog-n-toad." It's derived from some books I read as a child. And yes it would sound even more annoying that "BFF," but I'm ok with it because I created it.
  
• "Beaverly": Someone who is resourceful and hard working, like a beaver making a damn out of whatever supplies it can find. Or potentially, "beaverly" could be used in the context of "You're looking rather beaverly today", aka "You've dressed in a manner that allows me to see that you haven't shaved your pubes in a while."

And that's just some quick ideas based on animals. You are not limited to that whatsoever. It can be a completely made-up word like "sarble" which I'm going to say means "to walk awkwardly due to your undies riding up your crack." It can be an acronym like "WAYALAD" (Why Are You Acting Like A Douchebag?). Or it can be a phrase like "bringing donkeys to a horse party." I imagine that's when you bring a slightly inbred family member to a high-class social event and they decide to piss off the balcony into the swimming pool below. Although I guess I reverted back to an animal reference on that one.

Once you've developed your own word or phrase, make sure to start using it in conversation around your friends, family, co-workers, and complete strangers in public. When they look confused, explain what your word or phrase means, but give a really arrogant look to them like "Seriously...you've never heard that before? What rock do you live under?" Your confidence in using your term is key to making it catch on. People are sheep. If they think everyone else says it, they'll say it too.

So get creative, put sunglasses on a goat, and try to contribute to pop culture.

Paul Bunyan Day.

Paul Bunyan, whose body-type was modeled after a combination of Larry King and the Nutcracker, is seen here with his beloved ox Babe, who apparently glows in the dark.In what I hope to be the first of many obscure holiday blog postings, I'd like to point out that tomorrow (Saturday, June 27th) is Paul Bunyan Day. So I'll give you some pointers on how to celebrate PBD in style, right after a brief explanation about P-Buns.

You may be asking why in holy hell Paul Bunyan gets his own day. Well, he doesn't. He shares it with "Sunglasses Day," a day in which you...wear sunglasses. I'm unsure whether this is to appease the Sun gods, piss them off, of help Ray-Ban with a struggling quarterly earnings statement, but it seems like a big pile of crap to me. Step off of Paul Bunyan's day, you retina-relaxing devil-goggles. Paul Bunyan SHOULD get his own day. After all, according to my sources (the same Internet that hosts such accurate and well-researched pools of information as my own blog or Fox News), Bunyan can be credited with:

• Creating logging in the U.S.
• Scooping out the Great Lakes to water Babe, his ox.
• Clearing the entire States of North and South Dakota for farming.
• Training ants to do logging work. They were, of course, Carpenter Ants.
• Babe's large footprints created Minnesota's 10,000 lakes.

See...that's a lot of important stuff right there! Logging? Without Paul Bunyan, your houses would have to be made out of brick! Oh...oh brick is actually a better choice? Ok, but the Great Lakes! Yeah, that right there effected...only 8 States. Fine, fine. But clearing out the Dakotas for farming was...hey wait a minute, Mt. Rushmore is in South Dakota. You didn't clear out the entire States, and you can't farm on a fucking mountain, Paul! This whole story is becomming less and less believable. Training ants? Who gives a shit? Get your giant ox to procreate and make baby giant oxes to learn the logging trade! It's gotta take months for trained ants to cut a tree. One giant ox just needs to run into one and you get to yell "TIMBER!" And what's this about more lakes? We already heard you bragging about the Great Lakes, and now you're going to go on about some lesser lakes you made? In Minnesota, no less?

You know what? I don't feel like giving anyone advice on celebrating Bunyan's big day anymore. Forget it, Paul. Your ox is adorable, but you haven't benefitted my life nearly enough to warrant your own day. I'm just going to shut my mouth on Saturday, wear some sunglasses, and watch Al Borland on Home Improvement. That's one lumberjack-looking doughboy more deserving of my attention.

Sell your shit.

"See, officer...it's windowless because...um...because the Barbies might be damaged by sunlight. Or the kids might try to escape. Wait...scratch that last part."You've got a lot of shit, you know. Lots of it. You've got shit you didn't even know you had. Shit all over your room, shit you're stepping on just to move around in your home. Shit EVERYWHERE!

I'm of course not using the word "shit" in place of "poop." Why would I ever turn down the opportunity to use the word "poop" - it's much more fun to say. No, no, I'm talking about all the materialistic "shit" you buy that you more than likely use once and should probably discard, but rather than admitting to yourself "hey self, you sure did fuck up on that purchase...dumb self, dumb!" you instead keep that stupid purchase around "just in case" you find a use for it. "See, not such a bad purchase after all, cause I might use it again, and I've got it in case I need it!" Right, self. Right. Who are you fooling? That Napoleon Dynamite t-shirt lost it's mojo (assuming it ever had mojo, which I don't agree with), and it isn't going to be ironic-cool for another decade. The beginner guitar hurt your fingers when you tried to teach yourself to play...and guess what, the next time you pick it up in winter 2010, those fingers are going to hurt just the same. And the penis pump...my god, don't get me started on the penis pump. What a mistake, friend. You never should have bought that penis pump.

So do you have a garage sale for all your shit? Do you bother your neighbors with a door-to-door salesman routine? Craigslist? Nay on all accounts (ok, you probably should go with Craigslist, but this blog post wouldn't be as fun that way). Here's what you do, broken down into simple steps.

1. Rent an unmarked, windowless white van. Super legit. It screams "I mean business," even if that business happens to be smuggling immigrants.
2. Load all of your unwanted, ready-to-be-someone-else's-mistake shit into said van.
3. Park near the front of a Goodwill Store.
4. Hang a big sign on the side of the van that says "Greatwill."

Need I say more? Seriously, should I? This thing sells itself. I learned the hierarchy of superlatives in first grade. Good is ok, but great is surely better, always. The only way you'd be fucked is if someone else parked next to you in a van marked "Greatestwill," and gave out free cherry Kool-Aid. Fuck that, add on another step: #5. Bring purple Kool-Aid for customers. Suck on that, Greatestwill. Everyone knows grape tops cherry in a Kool-Aid contest. Everyone.

And there you have it. Park your van and SELL SELL SELL in your mobile Greatwill store. Seriously, hurry it up with the selling of all your shit. You probably have about 15 minutes before Goodwill calls the cops on you.

You look like a celebrity.

Sometimes you don't want to look like a celebrity.For this activity, you'll need:

• A friend or two
• A car
• A mall
• Balls, in the metaphorical sense.

Get in the car with the friend or two, drive to the mall, and take out the aforementioned "balls". Have a list of celebrities that people would probably not enjoy being told they resemble. Kirstie Alley (pictured above) would likely not be flattering. The trick is to find someone that looks NOTHING like the celebrity - the more ridiculous, the better. It goes something like this:

You: "Hey...excuse me...holy shit, it's Amy Winehouse!"

Stranger: "Huh? I'm not Amy Winehouse...I'm a dude. WTF?"

You: "Oh, I'm so sorry. But seriously, wow, you could have totally fooled me." (friend conveniently passing by) "Excuse me, who does this person look like?"

Friend: "No waaaayyy!! Amy Winehouse! Hold up, let me get a picture with you!"

In the meantime, if you've brought another friend with you, that friend is currently wrangling up shoppers at the mall who look like they might participate, telling them to walk over to the stranger and ask for photos, autographs, or in the case of Amy Winehouse look-alikes, cocaine.

Other potential celebrities:

• Artie Lange (the fat guy from MadTV and the Howard Stern show)
• Will Ferrell doing an impression of Janet Reno
• Flavor Flav
• Renee Zellweger without makeup
• Clint Howard (I didn't know him by name either...he was in Austin Powers...click here)

Have fun at the mall. Video capturing encouraged.

Lower your carbon footprint with felines.

Only 14 more loads of these furballs and we're on a ROADTRIP!!!From the advancement of the very first horse-drawn carriage, man longed to bring their best friends (dogs) along for the ride rather than some stupid pony. But one man in Alaska had 12 canine best friends. He couldn't fit them all in the carriage, so he decided to let his horse go (actually, he ate the horse), and strapped up the pups to the front of a sled. From there, he sledded into town and showed off his new mode of transportation. By the time he got there, 7 of the dogs were hobbling and one got his tongue stuck to a metal pole. This story is completely fabricated, but that's just because I didn't feel like researching why dogsleds even exist. I'm pretty sure they shouldn't. It seems sort of cruel to me, but if we're going to be mean to the canine community, there's no good reason why a "catsled" should exist either. Fuck it, let's make it happen.

I did a quick Google search for "catsled" and found that someone did their homework already, claiming it would take 220 cats to pull a human and the supplies needed to go any stretch of distance (much of the weight being from catfood itself). Stray cats are EVERYWHERE. You telling me you can't find 220 of them? OF COURSE YOU CAN. It'll be easy.

Oh, you don't live in Alaska, or anywhere near snow? Well go for the urban version of the sled...the shopping cart. Sit on a shopping cart, strap 220 cats together with a maze of yarn, and get a long fishing pole to hold out a live mouse in front of them. The cats will go nuts for the live mouse. They'll be meowing in unison. It will be your own personal cat choir. Can you imagine anything more beautiful on your ears? Here's a drawing of what it will look like (I added a oversized novelty cowboy hat to the driver because I thought it would add to the overall experience):


On a serious note, there are far too many stray cats. For the love of all that is good and pure in this world, please have your pets spayed or neutered. If you do, Bob Barker will personally come to your house with the Plinko wall and other fabulous pricing games. And Drew Carey will be far, far away.

K.I.T.T. your automobile.

Hoff not included. Except maybe on Thursdays. I think he's free on Thursdays.Imagine you're driving down the road in your car/truck/van/wagon/douchey-Hummer with your friend. There's a lull in the conversation, when all of the sudden, out of nowhere - A VOICE. It's soothing tone is unlike your passenger's, and surely not your own. Your passenger is freaking the fuck out, you're playing along as if you don't understand either. Your car speaks again (and in this hypothetical, your name happens to be Ryan)....

"Hello Ryan, would you like a soft pretzel?"

You respond, hesitantly: "Uhh...yea...sure, I would."

"Look under your seat, Ryan."

And HOLY SHIT, there's a soft pretzel under your seat.

There are all sorts of technologies out there that could probably yield the result of a talking car. Some could run you a pretty penny. But thanks to FM transmitters and mp3 players, you can record a whole shatload of audio clips in a sequence on your mp3 player, keep the player in your left hand out of view from your passenger, and flip through them to create the elusive "talking car" phenomenon. Messages should be recorded rather vague in many instances, since your passenger will likely want to ask your car questions. Assuming your passenger's name is Andy, how about some of these responses?

"Suck a dick, Andy."
"I did not understand what you just said, Andy. Maybe learn to enunciate your words better. You sure do suck at talking, which is a fairly easy skill to obtain. Also, you have a stupid face."
"Really, Andy? Really? I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."
"Fuck that. Ryan, can you drop this guy off somewhere and pick up someone who doesn't make me want to puke up my lunch?"

But where, oh where, are you going to get the voice to say such things? Our friends at AT&T have a website for that. Personally, I like using the voice of "Mike" because he sounds a bit like Adam West, but give them all a shot. I have a feeling you might be wanting to bookmark this website...it's just plain fun.

http://public.research.att.com/~ttsweb/tts/demo.php

If you're reading this at work, be sure to let your co-workers hear what you really think about them. But do it in the voice of an old English dude. There's no way that will be detrimental to your office relationships. None at all.

Reverse-ransom somebody.

But who is "I"? Damn you, pronouns! How am I supposed to know which roommate is about to be punched in the nads?The ransom note is a time-tested staple of the crime community. The criminal steals something or somebody, sits down Indian-style on the floor with safety-scissors, a bottle of Elmer's and some old copies of Good Housekeeping, and after a few short hours...BLAMMO, there is one gooey anonymous letter ready to scare the bejesus out of its recipient.

But what about the victims? It seems like double-jeopardy. First they get their shit jacked, then they have to miss out on the fun of making a ransom note as well? Fuck that. Victims should stand up for themselves with what I like to call a "reverse-ransom note." What's that you say? You haven't had anything stolen from you, and thus don't feel like you can participate in this exercise? Bull honky. Just make something up that was stolen, then send it to somebody that has no clue what the hell is going on. Here's an example:
---------------------------------
Dear bag of douche,

I know you took my Baha Men CD. It may not seem like a big deal to you, and sure, I could easily find a copy at a used CD store. And it would probably be in that "free" box near the door. But it's the principle of things. You don't steal my shit, no matter how much you want to hear repetitive questioning of who let dogs out, or how much you feel the need to sing along to the "yippee-i-o" part. Give it back, or metaphorical "dogs" are going to be "let out" all over the place, and the consequences for you might not be quite as jovial as the happy tune you stole.

Love, Anonymous
---------------------------------

Keep in mind, if you're going to threaten someone in any way, you should probably make sure you mail your ransom note to someone you know personally who wouldn't want to turn you in to the cops. Threatening strangers can have jail-able consequences, and when you're in the slammer, guess what...no Baha Men for you in there. Just other men. Lots of them. Trying to fit into tight places without your consent. Proceed with caution.

Roll the dice, eat a hot dog.

This photo has absolutely nothing to do with my blog entry, but just look at the expression on the cat's face! Words cannot express what that kittie must be feeling. Thanks to sexypeople-blog.com.Perhaps one of the best ways to inexpensively pass time is with the help of a few friends and a board game. Ah, classic board games, how you never fail to make us happy. Oh, except for the MANY MANY MANY times you've failed to make us happy, like when you're missing pieces or all of your cards have been seen before and we already know the answers, or when you've got movable parts that stick, or when you REQUIRE 18 FUCKING AAA BATTERIES and gosh darn it, we've only got 16 at our disposal. But alas...when everything goes right, board games sure do deliver the good times, and you want those good times right NOW. So what's the plan...do you go to the store and buy more batteries? Do you buy a new game altogether? No, you lazy bum, you turn on the television and hope it fills the aching hole in your heart; the same hole you hoped would be filled with jovial laughter from "HA, you rolled ANOTHER 6!" or "You better not take my card, dicknose!" But it doesn't fill your hole. And you soooo wanted your hole to be filled tonight.

This is when you put on your thinking caps and realize that every board game was invented by someone just like you. Someone with the same boredom. The same longing for laughter and fun. The same holes. So who's to say you can't make your own board game? Nobody, and if there IS somebody saying these things, it's time to prove them wrong.

Step 1: Grab some paper, or cardboard if you're fancy. Draw something like this...
...or something not at ALL like this. Really you just want a Start and Finish square with a bunch of squares between them.

Step 2: Acquire dice. This is best accomplished by stealing from another game that has dice. If no dice are available, use this virtual dice roller.

Step 3: Get creative. Make some of the squares require you to draw a card from a stack of cards you've created. Write random tasks on these cards like "eat a hot dog." What, you don't have a hot dog in your house? Well load up the car, you're headed to a gas station and your friends are going to watch you eat a potentially hazardous month-old hot dog. If you're playing with a mixed-gender crowd, have one of the squares say "remove pants". If you're playing with all guys, probably don't have that square. If you're playing with all girls, DEFINITELY have that square. And a pillow fight. And a video camera. And my email address.

The only limits to the board game are those of your imagination. Which of course is a lie, because there are laws governing certain actions in nearly all parts of the globe...so try not to violate anything or anybody in the process of creating the world's most kickass board game.

Misinform the masses.

"I'll believe anything you tell me, pretty lady. Ladies love my creepy stare, so I'm going to give you my creepy stare now. How are you liking my creepy stare?"The Internet is a great place to find information. For instance, I learned:

1. The average cost of raising a medium-size dog to the age of eleven is $6,400
2. Some German states banned Red Bull last month after finding it contains trace amounts of cocaine
3. December is the greatest fucking month of all (and by that I mean more babies are conceived in that month than any other)
4. Like the alligator, small birds clean Chuck Norris' teeth when he opens wide.

The first 3 of those are true, while the last one I'm not completely ruling out. Point being, I found all of those semi-useful tidbits in about five minutes on the Internet. The downside of the Internet is that I could have also learned:

1. President Obama is trying to prevent people from attending church
2. A zookeeper in Germany died when an elephant took a shit on him
3. Drinking caffeinated beverages can lead to a net loss of fluids due to it's diuretic effects.

All 3 of those are false (though beverages containing alcohol CAN lead to a net loss of fluids, so drink water you crazy drunkards).

At this time, you may be under the assumption that my advice to bust up boredom for today is to search reputable sites on the internet and learn the answers to all of those little curiosities in your head, bettering yourself as a person by becoming more knowledgeable about the world around you. Well good job assuming things, and making an "ass" out of both "U" and "Ming" - you're dead wrong, bucko. I'm advising you to make shit up and laugh at how gullible people are in person. After all, to misinform people on the internet, you need to get them to visit the website hosting the misinformation. On the streets, you can bring the faulty factoids straight to their dumb faces, document it in video, slap it on the web, and embarrass them into educating their pathetic selves.

The traditional format of man-on-the-street interviews is to ask a question, wait for a response, and then give the correct answer if they don't know it. In my version, the last part is altered to give them a very incorrect answer - but tell them it is correct and seeing if they go for it. Better yet, even if the DO know the right answer, tell them they're wrong and see if they believe the nonsense answer you give them. If they lack common sense and believe some very unbelievable lies, then you should inform them that they lose all reproductive privileges.

Here's a sample questionnaire I put together. Grab a friend with a video camera and hit the streets with it, or write your own.

Q: What year did dinosaurs last roam the earth?
A: 1492, when Christopher Columbus discovered the Americas and shot a few remaining tyrannosauruses with cannonballs.

Q: How long does it take for the Earth to revolve around the Sun?
A: 7 days - that's why every week we have a Sunday.

Q: What is the world's fastest animal?
A: Eddie, the dog on TV's Frasier. (If they say "cheetah," you respond with, "Nope...they raced. Eddie won."

Q: How many States are in the United States of America?
A: 57 - we found a few floating around in the Gulf of Mexico in November of 2005.

Q: Who's face is on the new $5 bills?
A: George Jefferson.

Q: More than one goose are called geese. What is more than one moose called?
A: Meese, Mooses, or Moosae (pronounced Moos-eye). All 3 are acceptable.

Q: What do we put on roads and sidewalks during cold weather to depress the freezing point of water?
A: Pure gasoline.

Q: Who wrote the Declaration of Independence?
A: Again, George Jefferson.

Q: How many ounces are in a cup?
A: 8 in the US, but only 3 in Mexico.

Q: Why does Santa Claus wear a red suit?
A: It was originally white, but one of the reindeer got out of line. Ol' Saint Nick made an example out of this deer, whose name I believe was Hank.

Seriously...if someone actually believes that Santa butchered a reindeer named Hank and bloodied up his white suit, I want to see video evidence of this fool on Youtube. Good luck folks.

Halloween and Go Seek.

Does anyone NOT want to punch this guy in the Whoop-ass?Hide and seek is a classic for kids, but with some slight modifications, it's the kind of game that adults can say "yippee" to, assuming that adults said such things, which they generally don't. Simply get out your favorite obnoxious Halloween costume (and NO, the picture above should not even exist, but it does, and definitely qualifies as obnoxious). The Halloween costume you use needs to be quite noticeable, to the point where strangers will either say "What the fuck is wrong with that guy?" or in the case of many scandalous female Halloween costumes these days "Did I just see her vagina?" In either case, you want people to know that they saw you and remember it. If that takes a beaver shot, so be it.

Step One: Get in a car with a bunch of friends. Have them leave you, the costumed participant, in a highly populated area of stores/bars.

Step Two: Get moving! You've got to find a good hiding spot within a 5-block radius of where you were dropped off, and you have to do it within 10 minutes. It should probably be a store/bar. It probably should NOT be a back alley, especially if you're a lone female with her cooch hanging out of her costume - safety first, ladies.

Step Three: The remainder of friends park their car(s) and begin hunting. They can ask anyone and everyone "Have you seen my douchey friend with a whoop-ass costume, and if so, which direction did he go?" Ideally, enough "seekers" are participating to split up in pairs and scour the area. Set a time limit...for instance, the hider needs to be found within 30 minutes, or the seeker loses.

It's that simple. Put some money on it if you'd like. Add some flavor to it and make it a bar-hoping venture as well. Some of my ideas on this blog are poorly planned, but this one is feasible. You might even say I "opened up a can of whoop-ass" on this idea. But you better NOT fucking say that. Ever.

p.s. My deepest condolences to the model told to wear the whoop-ass costume above. I'm so sorry you had to do that, man. You probably showed up to the photo-shoot that day and thought, "Easy money, I do my cowboy, my indian, my doctor, my Dracula, and CHA-CHING, I'm rolling in dough...wait...no...oh sweet Jesus that can't be what I'm wearing...oh...fuck."

Duct tape yourself silly.

After the prom, his plans for sexing up his date were ruined when it took 18 minutes to get his pants off. She grew tired and went home.I was unaware how popular it is to make things out of duct tape. I knew about duct-tape wallets. I'd seen duct tape neck ties. But full tuxedos? Evening gowns? Automobiles? Apparently there are no creative limits when people get their hands on some quacktastic adhesives (and yes I know it's "duct" and not "duck", but guess what smartass, the tape WAS originally called "duck" tape because water rolled off it like water off a duck's back. Suck it.).

So what can you do with duct tape that has never been done before? Probably nothing. You're just not that clever. Duct tape iPod cover? Done. Duct tape diaper? Unfortunately, done. Duct tape sex toy? Come on, do you really think a lonely high schooler hasn't figured that one out yet? Some greasy teen has probably made an entire woman out of duct tape. I believe the punchline to this joke is that the tape is now sticky on both sides. Ba-dum-bum.

But that's the joy of duct tape...you can mimic someone else, and you're still within a fraction of a percentage of the population who's ever even considered making things with the duckie. Plagarize all you want...it's still well worth your time. I'm thinking about a duct tape hammock myself...and...a quick Google confirms it, I too am unoriginal: Duct Tape Hammock instructions.

Mock a Monkey.

Shut your mouth, monkey, or I'll shut it for you. Right after I feed you a treat and you grasp my finger like a baby. No, those aren't tears...fine, they are...you're just so goddamn adorable. Zoos are great places to spend roughly 45 minutes before you realize that all the cool animals are hiding in their shady spots, trying desperately to learn how to fill a prescription for Prozac. A quarter-mile radius surrounding the elephant pin smells like shit, the jaguars are scrunched up in corners (perhaps they're tired of being called cougars or panthers or mountain lions, but I looked it up and those fuckers are all the same animal really), and the gorilla has thrown all his feces at the field-trip children already and needs to eat some more food to reload his ammo. So walk yourself and 3-5 of your most animated friends down to the monkey cage and get the primates all riled up. In unison, start jumping up and down and making as much noise as possible. You may feel embarrassed, but don't be. I've seen you at the club. Your dancing is not much less embarassing than this. Parents will shake their heads and tell their children not to imitate you, ashamed that your generation somehow slipped through society's cracks without "manners" or "proper etiquette" or "a stick up your pooper". But you and your friends will soon either be A) at an all-out ear-shattering war with some irrate monkeys, or B) escorted out of the zoo. Either way, doesn't that beat ESPN 2's coverage of lumberjacks running on river logs or E!'s 12-hour episode of "Would Paris Hilton Be Famous If We Stopped Airing These Fucking Shows Already?"

Take a test drive.

9 out of 10 women preferred this over Mattress Flaccid.
You just got done with a stressful day at work. You'd go out, but you're exhausted. At the same time, you surely don't want to stay at home either. The happy medium between the two is, of course, Mattress Firm. "Oh but I could just go somewhere close to home with a few friends and relax, that would probably be a good compromise as well," you say. Nope, shut your cake hole, you're going to Mattress Firm.

You might need to stop off at gas station or grocery store and get correct change before heading out to the Firm. You'll bring: two $20 bills. You'll need: to keep one, and exchange the other for twenty $1 bills. The result: A fat stack of cash with a $20 on the outside, which can easily make a Mattress Firm employee believe the entire wad of cash consists of $20 bills. Consider this your license to test drive vehicles. These vehicles will feel an awful lot like queen-sized fluffy clouds.

Step 1: find a Mattress Firm. Any Mattress Firm. Chances are, there's one in your backyard by now. They're fucking everywhere. I've got five of them within 6 miles of me. Yes...five. I believe another is now operating out of a 3-bed/2-bath within my apartment complex.

Upon entering Mattress Firm, you'll likely be greeted by a lonely employee who has some serious questions about the path his or her life has taken. You'll want to wave your stack of cash out at this time and say you're looking to buy today. Yep, today. You're GOING TO MAKE A SALE, LONELY EMPLOYEE!! And...gotcha. It is at this point that you have your license to do whatever you please. You are now allowed to test out any bed, for any duration of time. You'll probably get the "do you have any more questions?" from the employee after a while, but you can look slightly perturbed and say "No...I just need a little time to test these out...leave me be, damn it, I'll ask you for help if I need it." OOOhhh, you just told that employee who's the boss. Is it Tony Danza? Hell no, it's YOU. So kick your shoes off. Take a nap. Take your pants off if you feel like it. Are they going to ask you and your money to leave? Maybe. Or maybe they let it slide. Maybe you ask them to spoon with you, and they want money badly enough and agree to join you. And maybe you're the big spoon. And maybe you have a candybar in your pocket. Yes, lonely Mattress Firm employee...I definitely AM happy to see you.

Quickies...

Realizing that writing a new blog entry every day is going to be a challenge, I'd like to introduce my first installment of my boredom-busting "Quickies". They're simply random ideas of things to do that I was too lazy too expand upon, or I just didn't know where the hell to go with them. If I get desperate, I may some day come back to these for full entries.

1. Dress up like Colonel Sanders, walk into KFC talking like Foghorn Leghorn exclaiming that "You, I say, you kids are fuckin' up my recipe."

2. Walk onto a bus, walk all the way to the person sitting furthest in the back, give them a high five, immediately exit the bus.

3. Plan an outdoor activity on a sunny day, wear tube socks up to your mid-upper arm and some headbands around your neck, giving yourself a reverse-farmer's tan.

4. Wear a cummerbund to the grocery store.

5. "Caddyshack" a public swimming pool with a Baby Ruth.

Anonymously woo the shit out of someone.

Baby momma AND baby daddy? Both? In other words, "Ashley, I'd like you to become a single parent...and possibly a hermaphrodite."You've seen way too many romantic comedies to think this is a bad idea. Grab a phone book and find someone's address. Then find someone else's address. Type up the most endearing and/or creepy love letter you can conjure up. Mail to person A, return address from person B. Done. If all goes as planned, just like in the movies, you'll begin a chain of love letters between two strangers who will meet at some point and make sweet, sweet babies. Make sure to write down the names for both of Cupid's victims here, because you'll certainly want to check up on them years later and see how it went.

Fresh out of ideas? I'll get you started.

"Hello there, sweet thang. I know you don't know me, but Jesus (and perhaps my landlord) knows that I know you. I'd love to meet you face to face, or my face to any of your body parts really. It doesn't have to be your face."

"Mrs. Anderson, I'm really hoping you're a Ms. by the time you get this. Sometimes words just aren't enough to describe how many illegal things I've done in the last day and a half. How do you feel about Mexico, and specifically, going there within the next 24 hours?"

"Hello my love! How come you never respond to any of my letters? This is the fifth one I've sent, but the first in which I didn't include $500 in cold hard cash. Maybe I was coming on too strong, throwing all that free money in your face like that. Don't worry, it will never happen again."

"Jerry, it's Carl from the party a few months ago. I know you were really drunk that night, but I just can't stop thinking about you after all that crazy stuff we did together. I hope it doesn't burn when you pee. Anywho...."

If those aren't the type of letters that will make people all over the world start a love train, I don't know what will. Seriously...I don't know what will.

Bananopoly!

"Can fake gorillas get very, very real digestive problems? We'll find out shortly."Bananas are cheap. You don't have to be a high-roller to buy a banana. You don't need to have a job to buy a banana. Hell, you probably don't even need to have money UPON ENTERING THE STORE to buy a banana. Reach into the coin returns of the vending machines, and you'll probably be able to find a couple of dimes. Boom. You've just found enough money for a banana. Catch my drift? These potassium-rich, dong-shaped snackables are damn near free.

Have you ever wondered how much it would cost to buy a LOT of bananas at the grocery store? Aim higher. How about ALL of the bananas? A complete monopoly of the banana supply. A bananopoly.

The next time you're bored, head down to Wal-Mart with a friend and grab two shopping carts. Head to the produce. Fill up both shopping carts with bananas. If some little old lady wants to buy some while you're filling your cart, GRAB THOSE BANANAS FROM HER (but kindly let her know to see you in about 10 minutes outside). At $0.45/lb, what's it going to set you back? You can get 200 POUNDS of bananas for $90. You'd be crazy NOT to go through with that kind of deal.

By now, you've began to create a buzz around Wal-Mart. "Hey, did you hear?...those two produce pirates are stockpiling all of nature's pocket-rockets and headed for the checkout line. What are they going to do next?!!!" Now comes the good part. With your newfound notority, and the help of a bullhorn, you've announced to everyone within earshot that there will be FREE BANANAS IN THE PARKING LOT! Go to your vehicle, fill your trunk up with bananas, turn your stereo speakers up full blast, and start playing some tejano music or something else that sounds ridiculously repetitive. If one of you has access to a gorilla suit like the picture above, you better be putting that thing on at this time. Start tossing people bananas, left and right, screaming at them through the bullhorn. "YOU WANT A BANANA? YOU GOT YOURSELF A BANANA! Have a kickass day with your FREE BANANA! You want two bananas? Sure, why the fuck not?! We've got 200 POUNDS of these things! Oh, you don't want one? Well too late, that fucker is already in the air, flying straight at your dome...you better catch it."

Think of all the people you'll meet. Think of the smiles. Think of the nutritional value. Half of the Wal-Mart patrons didn't know the store carried fruits, vegetables, or anything else not found on the same row as the Twinkees or Doritos. Are you single-handedly fighting obesity? You're damn right you are. And with two people splitting the bill, you both spent less than $50 on the deed. You can't even watch a friggin whale splash some piss-water on people at Sea World for less than $50. Totally a good investment, and totally a story worth telling for the rest of your life. Do it.

p.s. Forget tejano music...I found THE song to play, on repeat, as loud as possible:

Mount a Bear.

Take it easy, bear...I didn't mean "mount" that way.Imagine a family station wagon rolling down the freeway, Griswald-style. "Are we there yet?" screams little Johnny. "Who wants some dried fruit and peanut-butter crackers?" exclaims Mom. "Stop touching me!" cries little Susie, hopefully not in the direction of creepy Uncle Craig who is curiously in the back seat with her. But Dad is busy driving, slow and steady, and he's not phased by any of the shenanigans. Firmly entrenched in the middle lane, he glances right at the traffic breezing by him. He glances left at the supposedly slower lane, though cars are flying by him on that side as well. He looks ahead again. He glances right. He looks ahead, but quickly glances right again. Is that?....no...it...wha...THERE'S A FUCKING BEAR ON THAT CAR!

That's right. You went to the taxidermist and got the 9-foot, free-standing Kodiac Brown Bear for a mere $16,000, and mounted him to the roof of your car. Station wagon Dad doesn't quite understand how or why Yogi is highway-surfing on a Dodge Stratus ("Bears aren't even indigenous to these parts!" he declares), but he's surely driving faster now to keep up with the bear and figure that shit out. See...you mounted a bear and helped a slow Dad keep up with the flow of traffic at the same time. That's what we in the biz call a win-win situation (though the stuffed bears might debate you on that). The Kodiac may be a majestic creature of the forest, but you will surely be the king of the road with your logistically-improbable bear-car.

Coontail an Old Guy.

But not this old guy specifically.What is "coontailing," you ask? Well I'm glad you asked, you curious little potential coontailer, you! Coontailing is something I just made up a few minutes ago when I saw this old guy. I said to myself, "Self, this Urkel-shortin' son-a-ma-beach needs to be coontailed," not yet sure what that meant. Then I came up with it.

Step One: Find an old coon-skin hat, preferably a fake one. We wouldn't want any actual raccoons being harmed in the making of this epic sport. Although I guess when the raccoon is already in hat-form, it's a tad bit late for that.

Step Two: Find a safety pin, or anything good for affixing one thing to another thing, with the former being a "coontail" and the latter being "pants" in this particular scenario.

Step Three: Sneak up on an old guy, and attach a raccoon tail to his pants, giving him the appearance that he is actually growing a tail (!) from his butt-ish region. (After seeing a certain scene in a movie called "The Hangover", I am no longer convinced that some old men actually have butts, but rather "butt-ish regions").

So many things can happen next. You can follow the old man at a safe distance (and mind-bogglingly snail-like pace) and simply enjoy the reaction of fellow street-walkers as they snicker, laugh, point, gasp and double-take their way into a better day. You can make bets with your friends as to how long it will take for the old man to realize that he's looking suspiciously like a casting-call reject for the box cover of Super Mario 3. You can wait for him to sit down somewhere and discover if he can tell the difference between a goddamn raccoon tail stuck to his ass and the usual diaper-load he's taken by lunchtime. And finally, you can approach him and ask if he wants to catch up with you when the sun goes down and scavenge for scraps at a local dumpster. You know...like a raccoon.

Is it mean? Maybe. Insulting? Surely. But entertaining? You bet your sweet butt-ish region it is. Coontail yourself an old man today, and thank me tomorrow.

Put Sunglasses On A Goat

(Specifically, this goat.)
Monday morning at the office:
You: Hey fellas, what did you do last weekend?
Co-workers: Dude, we got fucking wasted, it was badass bro. What about you?
You: Myself and a couple of friends drove out to a farm and put sunglasses on a goat.
Co-workers: (silence)
You: Seriously. Out in the country. Sunglasses on a goat. Don't worry, I've got pictures.

This is where legends are born. This is where memories are made. Not in bars, not on couches, not in cubicles. No, no no. It happens on farms, putting sunglasses on goats. Think of this as the metaphor to live by. In fact, start using the phrase "Put Sunglasses On A Goat" in exchange of "think outside of the box," because if you're still using the phrase "think outside of the box," you're not really thinking outside of the box at all, now are you? Also, say "Put Sunglasses On A Goat" often because I like the recognition and if I could ever coin a phrase, I'm pretty sure nothing would bring more honor to my family's name that seeing "He Put Sunglasses On A Goat" right there on my tombstone.

With this being the inaugural entry for my first ever blog (hello ladies!), I'd like to lay the groundwork for what it's all about.

Here's you on a Tuesday afternoon: "I'm soooo bored! I want to go out and drink but I'm soooo poor. I'm tired of watching TV...it's soooo boring. Let's doooo something."

Here's me: "Why don't you do something random, that doesn't have to make any sense. Maybe it's something you'll get laughed at for. Maybe it's something that you could potentially hurt yourself doing (and if so I'd like to point out at this time that I claim no legal responsibility for you doing anything you read on here, because come on now, I don't have any money anyway). Open up your brain and do something unique! Be creative!"

Here's you: "But I don't knoooooow what to do!"

Here's me: "Why don't you go put sunglasses on a goat."

And that's what this blog is about. Expect more suggestions on how to spend your free time, in manners that may or may not protect goats from ultraviolet rays.