Monthly Archives: October 2008

scary

Alright single dudes everywhere, today is Halloween, which means tonight there will be Halloween parties. Let me repeat that (I stole that line from Biden) – Halloween parties.

You know what Halloween parties mean, right?  It is the closest you will ever come to lots of scantily clad women getting wasted.  Unless you were one of those dudes who went to a huge college and was in a frat that had parties like “Show Your Boob Night,” and in which case let me just say – I hate you.

Tonight, single men, is your best chance at getting laid.  Even better than the time you told that girl that Beaches is your favorite movie.

Everywhere you look there will be slutty versions of everything you could possibly imagine.

Slutty nurses.

Slutty teachers.

Slutty chalk boards.

Slutty sluts.

Yes.

Even slutty sluts.

All you have to do is spark a conversation with a girl at the party and hope for the best.

Single Dude: [Sliding up next to a slutty teacher] “So you know, I went to school.”

Slutty Teacher: “Oh my god!  So did I!”

Single Dude: “Yeah, I could tell. You know, what with the skirt that shows your butt cheeks and all.  My teachers wore that same outfit.  It was pretty rad.”

Slutty Teacher: “Hahaha!  You’re funny, let’s make out until we puke on each other!”

Single Dude: “Sounds good.”

It really is that easy guys.

Put on a mask, grab a six pack and get your ass to a party.  Oh and remember, if you’re going to do four keg stands and nine shots before you start trying to meet girls, your Soldier might not be ready for battle when the time comes to attack.

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rules of engagement

In the last month or so I’ve been attending a lot of birthday celebrations, and they all typically start out with a large dinner.

This is exciting for me because eating out is one of my favorite things to do.  I’m doing all the same things I do at home – drinking excessive amounts of wine, having semi-intelligent conversation and eating myself into a food coma – only I’m somewhere else!  It’s like a vacation away from the table at my apartment.

Most of these dinner celebrations that I go to go well, and that’s because I am keen to the fact that when going to a large dinner, one thing you must always remember is that it’s all about where you sit.

If you choose the wrong place, you could spend the entire dinner talking to some dude you barely know about how much his pants cost when your good friends are at the opposite end of the table engrossed in an argument over who would win in a race, Superman or The Flash.

You will curse yourself over and over again, wondering why, when you had the chance to properly sidle up next to your friends, you were checking out the menu with all the “funny drink names.”

Then, as you sit there and try and drink yourself into liking the couple of people you’ve been seated around, you must watch in pain as everyone else laughs and laughs and isn’t everything in life just so great!

You make the wrong move and the dinner is hell.  Just like that.

Which is why I follow a few simple rules to make sure my Dinners With Lots Of People Including Some I Don’t Know go well.

First, I scope the scene.  As soon as everyone arrives, and we stand around all awkward because we haven’t started drinking yet, I am on the look out for People I Don’t Know.  I then mark them in my head by saying, “I don’t know that dude.”

This is very scientific.

Next, and most importantly, I make my move when we are casually entering the restaurant.  This is the best time for the move, because everyone is thinking that they are just having dinner with some friends, when in fact you are deciding between life and death.

Finally, if the previous step does not work, I resort to using mind games.  As we near the table, and I realize that I am dreadfully out of position, I will say something like, “Oh, that light is bright.”  When it isn’t even bright! Some sucker will always take the bait and you can switch seats with him and thus enjoy dinner like it was supposed to be.

I beg you, reread those steps.

Read them, know them and most of all – dear god – use them.

If none of that works, I have to tell you, all is lost.  Your best bet is to vomit on someone and leave, because that dinner is not going to be fun, it is just going to be one more Moment With Others that you regret.

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make a decision

I spend a lot of my time roaming around the Internet, sometimes looking at useful things and sometimes just looking up what that dog on Dukes of Hazzard was named (Flash).

One thing that I always enjoy when I’m doing my browsing is voting.  If there’s a poll on a website, you bet your ass I’m making my voice heard on the subject.  I will click my mouse, check the results and see if I am part of the Popular Opinion or just some loser who thinks for himself.

It doesn’t matter to me what the poll is about either – I’ll make my opinion known about anything.

“Of all the MASH characters, which one are you?”  Voting!

“If you could go to a planet, which would it be?” The people must know!

“Does Obama wave his thumb around too much when he speaks?” Clicking away!

“What’s your favorite part about Christmas?” I’d be a fool not to vote!

“Do you always wear panties?” Uncomfortable, but still voting!

I find that voting on these website polls makes me feel alive, so I decided to make a couple for you.  I know a lot of you won’t vote because you’re lazy and clicking the mouse once more is simply too much if you’re not looking at porn, but trust me, voting can be fun.  So do it.

Let the voting begin!

See? That was fun wasn’t it?  It’s all about making a choice, and deciding to speak up for yourself and your generation.

And if you didn’t vote, I have just one thing to say to you: You can forget about me sending you that autographed poster of Eric Nies for your birthday.

I’ll keep it right where it belongs – above my bed.

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picture day

I’m back!  Somehow, I made it through endless beers, amazing sunsets and naps immediately after eating to return to the civilized world.

I hope you’re in the mood for a good ol’ fashioned Look At Pictures Of My Vacation Because I’m Still Hungover From Consuming Vats Of Tequila Post, because that’s what you’re about to get.

With that said, I present to you, my awesome Mexico vacation – photographed!

Awesome.

Awesome.

This is the main area of the resort where we stayed.  It was unreal.  Like something out of a movie, one with a central plot line that goes like this: People eat.  People drink.  People yell some.  People swim.  People drink more.  People nap.  Repeat for seven days.  Fin.

 

Romantic or something.

Romantic or something.

This is a picture I took from the swinging porch seat on the deck of the main area.  It shows the pool where me and my future brother-in-law and our friend performed amazing feats of athleticism by catching a football in midair before hitting the water.  I’m thinking of sending in the pictures to the NFL, so I’ll let you know what happens.  If I get signed by a team, it was nice knowing you.  I promise to remember the little people.  Maybe.

 

Pathetic.

Pathetic.

I’m pointing at my lame attempt at a beard.  I know – you can’t even see it.  The dudes and I decided to have a Battle Of The Beards, but as you can see, I lost.  I took this picture right before I shaved it off on the last day we were there.  I tried for seven damn days to grow something resembling Jesus’ awesome beard, but ended up falling closer to Ashton Kutcher’s.  Which is punishment enough I think.

 

Nature is dumb.

Nature is dumb.

See that lizard?  Look closer dammit!  I need you to see him because I spent a good amount of time running after these iguanas that roamed around our resort, trying desperately to get a picture of one.  Did you know that lizards run really fast when a large white man with a camera rapidly approaches them yelling, “Hey!  Hey!  Come here, you!” Well you do now.  I finally snapped this one of Larry (a clever name I came up with for him) after six beers and two margaritas sharpened my focus.  Or maybe I just caught him while he was asleep.

 

Unhappy.

Unhappy.

This is a painting that was on the wall of the only bar in Troncones, Mexico that was playing the World Series on TV.  I thought it was kind of odd to have a sad turtle as the first thing people see when visiting your place of business, but maybe that’s the way all turtles are in Mexico.  I hope they don’t put that on any tourist brochures.  “Come to Mexico!  Our animals are frowning for you! Viva!”

 

That’s it for the pictures.  I have a ton more, but I’ve reached my limit for now.

I will leave you with the only Spanish that I remember from the trip – “Bien Borracho!” Which means “good drunk.”  Which I was, and I promise to continue to be.

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fishing – the sport of drowning a worm

Chris is still fucking gone.  If I know him, he is probably somewhere drinking 34 Coors lights and watching something like this on TV.

If you have ever visited my blog, you know I am from Denver.  I am single and I like long walks on the beach. Except if that beach is anywhere in Jersey.

Anyway. Chris like’s to rant a whole lot on here about shit he thinks is stupid…so since this is the perfect forum, I am going to tell you why Fishing is more stupid than McCain’s economic plan.

Fishing requires no skill. Tying a little string in a knot and hucking it out into water is hardly challenging.

I can see if people were doing it caveman style by throwing spears into the water and hitting the fish, like Tom Hanks in “Cast Away” but people are not doing that. They are sitting in a boat with an electronic fish finder, waiting for some stupid fish to bite their lure.

Therefore, I don’t consider fishing a sport. A sport is something that requires some sort of fucking skill. All you have to do to fish is wake up early (another reason why fishing is lame).

Then there’s people who say they fish- but they don’t do it for the sport of it, they do it so they can get drink and hang out. They even throw back the fish they catch. These people are the most stupid. Why would I want to wake up early (because fish are only hungry early in the morning for some reason), pack fishing gear, drive approximately two-to-three hours, just to drink beer?

I can drink beer in my boxers, right on my couch. You can come over and join me. If you want to be a part of nature we can sit outside, on the deck.

People think I’m weird because I live in Colorado and I don’t fish. I tell them to try catching a real animal instead of a stupid fish. Try catching a bear with your pole, or how about a mountain lion. Reel them in and I will be impressed.

Stupid fucks.

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just being honest

We continue men week here at Surviving Myself with the ultimate man. Me. That would be RS27 for the unknown.  If you would describe ultimate as handsome, tough, brown, not afraid to cry at the end of Growing Pains when the Seavers move to Washington, D.C. and brushing your teeth, then I am the ultimate man.

Men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men, men.

That’s my theme song. Don’t make fun. Chuck Norris is my dad.

I made that up.

My dad is my dad.

So anyways to continue about how awesome men are this week, I’ve decide to write about the topic that proves our manlihood to everyone.

Women.

I tend to have a lot of women friends. This means a few things. 1.) Women like me. 2.) I’m not having sex. 3.) I’ve heard the phrase “Lay off, I’m having my period” more than twice in life. With those 3 things I get stuck in the friend zone. Men know that zone. You dream that you could totally make out with your hot friend one night when you go over and watch “The Amazing Race” and right at the part where they reach the mat she reaches over and you guys do it right there only to be interrupted to see who got eliminated.

Eliminations > Sex.

Of course, that never happens because we live in the “real world” where “men” don’t have “relations” with “women” that they “know” “like” “that”.

The one perk of knowing women, though, is that you pick up a lot of little things. Don’t leave the toilet seat up, What color is best with your skin tone and my personal favorite, that girl is a total bitch.

Bitches.

Because I know so much about fashion now last weekend I became the fashion maven for these two girls at a party I was at.

Girl #1 – “That shirt looks great on you.”

Me- “I know, certain colors work better with my skin tone. Brown. See I’m brown”

Girl #2- “What color would look good on me?”

Me- “Brown (Damn RS, you so slick. Self High Five!), but seriously, you should go dark colors because you have paler skin. The contrast looks better for you. Light colors make you look pasty. Unless you go crisp white. That could work.”

Girl #1 – “That’s what I told her!”

Me- “As for you, you should go with beige or orange to help accentuate your red hair. You’re an autumn.”

Girl #1 – “Where did you learn all of this?”

Me- “Women”

Girl #2 – “We teach boys so…”

Me- “And Isaac Mizrahi, that guy is great.”

Girl #1- “Really? You’re fascinating. Are you gay?”

Me- “If by gay you mean liking women, then yes.”

Girl #2- “Usually only gay guys know that stuff.”

Me- “And smart dudes. (Two thumbs pointed at me)”

Girl #2 – “So you’re not gay?”

Me- “Nope”

Girl #1 -“Oh”

OH?!?! What does Oh mean? Men can’t know about fashion without being gay? What about that guy Cojo? Verasce? Those queer eye dudes? Are they gay? I think no….

They are? Damn.

So anyway I’m going to go make out with a GIRL, then watch some FOOTBALL, play some VIDEO GAMES, and then fix up 342 OLDSMOBILE ENGINES.

But, seriously, if you have light eyes wear deep, dark blue. Believe me, it works.

(This and more fashion tips at Your Beard is Good. Maybe not fashion tips)

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useful information

This just in!!!

The Dow is way up!

Wait – now it is way down.

Now it’s up again!!!

Hey, News, how about you make up your mind.  You are starting to sound like a girl at a movie theater.

“It’s so COLD in here, I wish I had brought a jacket!  Do you think it’s cold?  I think it’s cold.”

5 minutes later…

“Gaaawd it is like 100 degrees in here!  Ugh, I feel so gross.  Am I sweating?  I feel like I am sweating…”

5 minutes later…

“Are you cold?”

WE GET IT.  The stock market sucks.  It goes up and down like my pants during an Eva Mendes movie.  How about when it does something consistent for 15 minutes – THEN you tell me about it.

Maybe it’s me.  I am guessing the fact that I am an idiot doesn’t help things.  Telling me the Dow is down 700 points is like telling a 6 yr old about how you are out of flour – I don’t know what that means and I just want to know what is going on with the cupcakes.

Why can’t the news focus on how the fall and rise of the stock market impacts my life?

“Dow rises 700 points – Stocks now stable enough to spend $40 on booze tonight.”

That’s news I can use!

“Stock market closes with worst day ever – stick with PBR.”

Got it, thanks CNN.  You are so helpful. 

But what’s the status on those cupcakes?

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