Posts tagged ‘humor’

October 5, 2010

Things They Don’t Tell You About Growing Up: Part 2: Vacuuming


Bro, do you even know what this is? It's a fuckin Kirby vacuum! This shit right here is like the fuckin BMW or Jaguar or some shit of vacuums. So powerful it'll suck the pubes off of your balls. Just kidding bro, you know I shave.

In order to make this interesting, I have written this in the voice of a character I have created named A. Situation. I am not witty.

Now listen, there are three things in life that are fucking guaranteed to make me happy: Jager bombs, hiekin, and fucking vacuuming. Now bro listen, I know what you’re thinkin’ “What the fuck bro, you all domesticated ‘n shit now?”

Nah bro. Listen, and I swear to God if you say that shit again, I’ma break your jaw-but anyway! For real bros, there ain’t nothin in this world like vacuuming. Now I know that when we were kids our parents made us do it and it was fucking stupid, but when you get your own badass carpet or rug or some shit, it’s fuckin different.

So like, lets say you get a dog bro. A fuckin huge, white ass dog that sheds like a mother fucker (not bein specific here or nothin). And you got this badass rug that’s got fucking lions and shields and shit all over it. Fuckin REGAL shit bro! Now listen, you walk into the room after a night of clubbin, or after your breakfast of protein bars and raw eggs, or you come back from the gym cause you were workin out and you see your rug and notice (cause you gotta fuckin pay attention to this shit when you got your own place bro) that the rug is now a shade of white. You ain’t got that shit to make it lighter or darker you got that shit cause you were in the store and said “Now THAT’S a rug you fuck skanks on!”

Now cause you have all your addrenline rushin to your head you’re fuckin pissed. You turn to your dog and say “What the fuck bro!”

Your dog just looks at you and says “I’m a fuckin dog, bro!”

Your dog is right, he’s a fuckin dog and that’s what dogs do. That’s what they fuckin do: shed.

Kirby All-Star: Survival Mode

This is Kirby. He is a video game character, but he sucks shit up like a vacuum which is pretty cool too bro.

Now if you got bitches or skanks or some bros comin over you gotta clean that shit up. So what do you do? Grab that fuckin vacuum bro! So you start goin at it bro, sucking all that shit up. BAM! Fuckin clean carpet in all the fuckin colors its supposed to be, looks fuckin new too bro. I swear to fuckin God bro, swear to fuckin God-that shit will look so badass now that it’s all clean and shit. Excuse me, I gotta fuckin take this shot down so I don’t get too excited.

Alright back, now I know what you’re thinking: A. Situation what are you doin drinkin in the middle of the day, at a fuckin coffee shop no less. That don’t even serve alcohol at coffee shops. Well you see A. Situation always comes prepared. And like they say, “it’s 5 o’clock somewhere!” KNOW WHAT I MEAN BRO?

So anyway. Vacuuming. Fuck you have no idea. Cause if you did, you wouldn’t have read this far, you would have looked of the title of this shit and said, “FUCK YEAH BRO! FUCKING VACUUMING IS THE FUCKIN SHIT. THAT REMINDS ME I GOTTA GO DO THAT SHIT RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!”

Not to mention nothing gets a fuckin girl soaked up than seein a fuckin bombass rug all fuckin clean and shit. Panties fuckin drop at the site of it bro. Swear to fuckin God bro, swear to fuckin God.

Fuck all this talkin an’ typin about this shit reminds me I gotta go do some vacuuming myself. PEACE!

September 2, 2010

Things They Don’t Tell You About Growing Up: Part 1: Your Neighbors


It taunts me with it's existance very day.

Granted, you may have heard your father complain when you were younger but you never thought you’d be in his shoes. So I’ll just tell you right now:

You will hate your neighbors.

Not all of them-that would mean that you’re an asshole and have anger issues-just a few. Thing is, you will hate them without even knowing anything remotely personal about them (such as their name). For me, I hate two of mine and I know I hate them for no good reason.

My first neighbor doesn’t actually live there. The house is up for sale. However, there is no for sale sign visible from anywhere that would make sense. This summer I saw the man twice; he showed up twice in his giant RV. How that damn thing came and went without anyone noticing is beyond me (though I bet the dark arts were involved). Now, I have nothing against him as a person. He seems fairly nice as other neighbors are actually happy to see him.

But they don’t have to deal with the shit I have to.

The house has a large backyard that comes up to my property. There is a koi pond with a bridge over it that is actually a

protected habitat. Yes, so the city and I can do nothing about the swarm of mosquitoes that arise from the 5 foot tall pond flora. While I enjoy the sound that the toads make at night, the bugs that attack me for it ruin the mood.

But I would forgive the man if that was all. You see, in his nice large yard, closest to me is a half-finished gazebo. That’s right. A fucking gazebo. The half finished piece of crap reminds of it’s existence everyday since my windows open up directly to it. The railing on the outside of it is made of left over white plastic fencing that outlines the rest of the property. The rest of the gazebo is wood. Yes, it sticks out as much as you think shiny white plastic would stick out on a wood construction. My eyes beg my hands to gouge them out every morning. If it’s ugly frame weren’t enough, in it’s poorly made bottom covering lives a nasty opossum that has ripped open my garbage cans from the side. The side! Usually critters of that type knock over trash cans, but not this little fucker! He rips open the side and feasts on my trash.

Photograph of the common opossum

Go to hell and leave my trash alone.

The duck-tape I have applied on my trash can is yet another constant remainder of why I hate my neighbor. On trash day it’s also a “I hate all of you because you like him” badge.

Then there’s the neighbor behind me. I’ve been meaning to clear a bunch of trees out of my backyard but I haven’t for two simple reasons: I don’t want to subject my neighbors to my work-in-progress backyard and because I don’t want to subject myself to their immaculate gardens. This one guy in particular has created a soft, gentle hill where there are two koi ponds that are connected by a waterfall that has (wait for it) LED lights in it. How the hell am I supposed to compete with that? Really? Asshole.

So on quiet nights, I can hear the smooth running water from his yard that are really saying, “my yard is better than yours.”

I am going to build a privacy fence around my entire property and lob Molotov cocktails at that damn gazebo. Take that Mr. Possum.

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