Not Exactly What He Had In Mind

            I kind of find the whole fashion statement of wearing rosary beads as an accessory pretty ridiculous.  I’m not overly religious or easily offended so it’s nothing like that.  But I’d like to think that when Jesus was hanging up there dying on the cross he found little comfort in the fact that his torture and execution would one day be remembered through a shitty fashion trend sported by steroid infused guides.  But, meatheads aside,  you have to admit the crucifixion was a pretty brutal event to commemorate.  At least Jesus knew what he was in for, though.  And it’s not like he went out alone, he had company up there.  Just a couple of random thieves sentenced to die in the most painful way imaginable, no big deal.  Imagine how those guys felt? 

Like they were just hanging around, chilling next to Jesus. Then one of them realizes who Jesus is and he's like, “Hey, can't you get us down from here!?’ and Jesus was all ‘no, it’s cool.  This is what’s supposed to happen.  We’re supposed to die like this so I can redeem the sins of the world and open the gates of Heaven.’  Then the other guy is like...

“What the shit has that got to do with us dangling from these crosses!?”

“Relax, my son for this night you will dine in the house of the Lord!”

“How about tonight I dine in my own house.  You think you can make that happen, freak show?”

“Well, I could but I’m not going to.  I know it’s hard to understand but our execution will be celebrated throughout eternity.  Every man, woman and child that walks the Earth from this day forward will remember and honor the supreme sacrifice we are making.”

“Listen, man.  I couldn’t give a crap if the entire community forgot I was up here right now!  You can make that happen!  Hell, you could turn everyone down there into fluffy bunnies if you felt like it!  If you want to go out like a sacrificial lamb that’s your choice but nobody is going to care if I happen to disappear!”

“Perhaps, but my Father has called us home and it is home we must go.”

“Fuck you, man!  Seriously, of all the people to get stuck next to during an execution you would think a guy with magic powers would be pretty accommodating in side stepping the whole death part of dying!  But, nooooo!  Not you!  The guy that walks around talking to the sky and curing leprosy doesn’t feel like performing one last trick before the curtain drops! What a dick!”

“You may insult me however you wish but know that I forgive you.”

“Man, you’re lucky my hands are nailed to this cross or I’d pound the shit out of you.”

“You would have no force over me unless it was given to you from above.  In fact…”

“UUUGGGHHH!!!  I CAN'T TAKE THIS GUY!!!  Hey…. Roman soldier!  Yeah, you.  How much to stab this guy with your spear?  Twenty silver coins?  No, I don’t have twenty silver coins.  Would you do it for ten?  You will?  Prove it!”

The soldier stabs Jesus

“Father!  Why have you forsaken me!!!  It is not my will but yours!!!  I will not bow to temptation!  I will remain strong…”

“OH, WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!  ALL YOU DO IS TALK, TALK, TALK!  I’M SICK OF IT!!!  JUST DIE ALREADY!  Hey, Roman soldier!  It didn’t work!  He’s still alive!  What?  You don’t care?  Well you fucking should!  Why?  All your buddies just saw you stab this guy and he’s still alive.  You’re going to look like a pussy!  What should you do!?  I don’t know, if I were you I’d grab that sledge hammer over there and crack him across his knees.  Ya know, so it looks like you were just trying to torture him.”

The soldier grabs the sledgehammer and cracks Jesus across the knees.  Jesus screams in pain.

“Seriously, dude?  Man, you're really milking this, huh?  If there’s a God He'll put us both out of our misery!”

At that moment Jesus dies.

“Finally!  What the hell took so long!?  Man, that guy just wouldn’t quit.  You know what?  This isn’t so bad!  I mean, the death thing sucks and all but at least I don’t have to listen to that asshole bitch and moan anymore.  We get it, you know?  You were here, did some magic, freaked some people out and now you’re dead.  Big whoop.  Ahh.  Peace and quiet.”

Just then the voice of Jesus whispers in his mind.

“My son, it is me, Jesus.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!!!”     

Nerd Logic

Top 10 Reasons Your Video Game Console Is Better Then Your Girlfriend:

10. It comes with instructions.

9. It won’t bother you during a power outage.

8. If it begins to malfunction you can always buy a new one.

7. You can change its color and appearance with little or no consequence.

6. Every few years a newer and more efficient model comes out.

5. Its sole purpose is to keep you entertained.

4. Your console doesn’t care if you haven’t changed your sweat pants in four days.

3 You can throw it out a window and nobody will press charges.

2. It happily plays porn for you.

1. When you get tired of it you can kill the power. 

Get A Real Job

Fuck Dentists.  I mean, they're relevant for jobs like yanking a tooth or doing a root canal, stuff like that, but a tooth cleaning?  Are you serious?  I need to pay you to clean my teeth?  That's like going to a proctologist for an ass wiping.  It's like telling someone, "Hey, I know you know how to wipe your own butt.  You've been doing it your whole life.  But you can't wipe your butt like I can!"

What a crock!  And they're not cheap, either.  I'm expected to pay a complete stranger to shove his hands in my mouth and scrape off the remnants of my lunch and then pay him a few hundred bucks!?  While you're at it, how about you trim my good-old weenie hairs, scrub my taint, clip my toenails and give me a foot massage.  Then, maybe, I'll contemplate a tooth cleaning.  Jerks.

And lets get another thing straight; you're not a doctor.  Not even close.  You're an oral janitor that occasionally has to double as a handy man.  You ever see an ambulance rush up to a Dentist's office?  No, and you never will.  Know why?  Because they're not doctors.  An emergency for a Dentist revolves around his patient's ability to chew his food.  Not an emergency.

Don't believe me?  Imagine what shows like ER or Grey's Anatomy would have been like if they were about Dentists.  Would you have watched?  Of course not.  You know why?  Because that idea for a show sucks!  Most people feel the same way toward their Dentist as the Jews felt toward Hitler.  He causes pain and suffering, you try your best to avoid him at all cost, they both use gas as a "tool," and their ultimate goal is to whiten the population.  See?  Fuck Dentists!

Seriously Retarded

Call me crazy but wouldn't it be fun to remake some classic movies with an "all retarded cast?"  Like everyone in the movie is a full-blown retard.  And don't get all sensitive about the fact that they're still called retards in certain circles.  Of course they're called retards; they're retarded.  It's like the whole midget/dwarf scenario.  What's it matter what we call you?  You're still you.  A rose by any other name and all that.

So anyway, retards!  All retards!  Think how much more awesome The Godfather would be if every single person was retarded!  "Leave the chew toy, take the parking sticker."  Or Braveheart?  Imagine that shit!  Just a slew of retards charging into battle with rubber weapons and helmets!  Instead of yelling "FREEDOM!" at the end of the film William Wallace could yell something like "DONUTS!"  Or what about Jaws!  Even the shark could be retarded.  The whole movie it just keeps beaching itself and then ends up eating all of the retards that rush down to the shoreline to push him back out to sea.  And instead of the iconic music of Jaws approaching we could have an actual retarded person going, "Dun-dunt.  Dun-dunt.  Dun-dunt.  Dun-dunt."

You have to admit there's some serious potential here.  That's a pretty untapped market.  I mean look at the success of the Special Olympics!  Who would have thought that shit was going to take off?  But it did.  Now every year there's a slew of Special Ed's training like mad men so they can win a participation medal for crashing into hurdle after hurdle.  You can't make this shit up.

And think of how things would go if the retarded movie idea catches any of that steam!  Retarded Movie Premiers!  Retarded Outtakes!  Hell, we could have our very own Retarded Oscars!  I can see it now!  "I'd like to thanks the Academy for chocolate milk and Santa Claus.  I couldn't have done this without my retainer.  I think I'm living proof that dreams don't always end up wet!  Has anyone seen my ducky?"  Every parking spot outside would be painted blue, of course.

I mean; we're really not all that far off form something like this as it is.  Hollywood is so out of new movie ideas that they just keep recycling old classics anyway.  Why not add a little spice to that equation?  Plus, you could probably get away with paying the cast in lollipops and swim toys.  Just saying...

Signs You Might Be A Douche Bag

You Might Be A Douche Bag If...

1. You have a tribal tattoo and still think it's cool.

2.  Skinny Jeans, guy or girl, anytime of year.

3.  You own (and wear) a white G-Shock watch.

4.  One word… "Selfies."

5.  You're earring(s) can be mistaken for cock rings.

6.  You have a cock ring.

7.  You "Bro Shake" with complete strangers despite the fact they are completely unaware of the intricacies of your own personal "Bro Shake."

8.  You don't know what a "Bro Shake" is.

9.  "It's ok because I'm cute…"  No, it's not.

10.  You have spoken louder to a Hispanic because you thought it would help him understand you.

11.  Duck Face?  I mean, seriously.

12.  Street Racing.

13.  You have worn sunglasses… at night… in a bar… and hit on someone.

14.  You have farted in an elevator and blamed it on a retarded person (actually that would make you awesome.)

15.  You are retarded, someone farted in an elevator, blamed it on you and you didn't call them on it.

16.  You have intentionally pissed on someone else's toilet seat (guy or girl).

17.  You like cats.

18.  You have gone home with a guy that hit on you at the bar while wearing sun glasses.

19.  You have used the words, "Chief," "Champ," "Boss," "Guy," "Fella," "Pal," "Bro," "You," or "Buddy" among other awful cliched names when dealing with complete strangers.

20.  You were offended by any of the past 19 reasons.

One Of A Kind

Ever wonder how a twin feels when he takes a piss?  Does he feel gay?  Like, hey my brother has the identical dong.  This is pretty much like touching my brother's dick!  Gross.  But, man I had to piss.  Thank God I didn't need to jerk off.  Oh shit!  Wait a minute.  I've definitely jerked off a ton of times!  With my brother's identical dick!  Does that make me gay!?  Why is this so hard!?  Shit!  I mean the question, not the dick!  But it felt so good!  I'll never be able to look him in the eyes again!  Man, this is awkward.  I should probably just brush my teeth and go to bed.  Yeah, that's what I need to do.  Let's just hit the bathroom, grab my tooth brush, look in the mirror and… Oh shit.  There you are again!  Damn it!  Everywhere I go!  I'm sorry, ok?  I touched your dick!  But it didn't count!  It was my dick!  But wait a sec.  If you and I have the identical dick then you've touched mine too!  Gross!  That's definitely gay!  No?  It's not?  Why are you smiling like that?  Stop nodding your head!  Wait, what are you doing.  Get you hand out of my shorts!  I should have killed you in the womb!!!

She's A Keeper!

The other day I was getting changed at the gym when I overheard two guys talking about a new relationship one of them had just begun.  When asked how things were going the one guy replies, "Good, man.  She's a cool chick.  Ya know, the kind you can fart in front of and she won't freak out."  And that was it!  The other guy just accepted this as the most normal response in the world and left it at that.

At first I found myself nodding with agreement and thinking "hey, that guy's pretty lucky."  But then I began to think how strange that interaction was and how a chick might interpret that statement.  Girls don't grade their men on a "flatulence to freak-out ratio."  Which got me thinking, what if they did?  It'd probably sound something like this…

"Hey Julie, how's that new guy you just started dating?"

"Oh, he's great.  Really great."

"That's so nice!  I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks.  Yeah, I know how lucky I am.  He's such a keeper, ya know?  Like, the kind of guy you can queef in front of and he's not going to puke or anything."

"That's amazing.  I actually dated a guy like that in college.  He never puked when I'd queef.  He'd just shove my head under the covers and yell Dutch Oven! as loud as he could…. and then he'd go down on me."

"Dutch Oven?  What in the world is that!?"

"Oh, it's just this silly game that boys will play when they fart in bed.  He would do the same thing when he'd fart.  We would be in mid conversation when he would let one rip, yell and then shove my head under the covers where I would be trapped with his gas."

"That's disgusting!  I don't think my Jake would ever do something like that!  In fact, the other day I heard him break wind in the bathroom after we had sex.  I called out and asked if he had just farted but he said it must have been a squeaky floor board!  Do you believe that?  He knows the bathroom is tiled!  He's such a gentlemen."

"That's so sweet!  He sounds like a really good guy.  Does he have any friends you can hook me up with?"

"I don't know.  Since we started dating I haven't let him see any of his friends."

"Smart.  Keep the leash short and the dog won't stray."

"He's not a dog!  He's my little puppy!"

Snotty giggling ensues.

"Julie, you're so bad.  Hey, are you hungry?"

"Kind of.  Why?  Are you?"

"Yeah, I've been craving Taco Bell all day."

"Tacos, huh?  That does sound good.  Plus I haven't pooped in days!  Ugh, I'm so backed up.  Maybe that will help."

"It's a sure fire way to wake up the Dookie Goblin."

"Thank God for that!  All I've been able to do for the past four days is queef!"


…well, maybe something like that.

Polish Spoons

Spatula is a strange word.  Say it out loud a few times… spatula… spatula… spatula.  It kind of just turns into a strange sounding word, right?  Is it named after the person who invented it?  You would think so, right?  It's not exactly like spatula is super popular word with multiple meanings.  The only spatula I'm aware of is the kind used to scramble eggs and flip pancakes.

The guy that invented the spatula must have been a hero in the pancake and egg communities.  I mean talk about a revolutionary invention for these guys!  I like to think it went something like this:

"Hey Bob, guess what?"

"What?"

"You don't have to blister your fingers anymore trying to scramble your eggs!"

"Holy shit, are you serious?!  Tell me more…"

"Well I'm glad to hear that you are interested.  You're an educated man that knows a good deal when he sees one, aren't you?"

"You know damn well that I am!"

"Excellent, because I have the product of a lifetime!  It's called a Spatula!" Man pulls out a widdled wooden Spatula from his back pocket.

"A Spatula?  But, hey isn't that your last name, Tom?"

"You are to the point and I commend you for that Bob.  Spatula is indeed my last name.  I figure what's the point of inventing something if nobody knows who invented it.  Am I right, or am I right?"

"Tom, you are 100% right!  So what makes this invention so important?  Why can't I just use my hand?"

"I'm really glad you asked, Bob because I have the answer to that question.  Every morning I wake up, head out to the chicken coupe and come back with a nice basket full of eggs.  My fire's already burning hot because I'm not a man who tolerates a cold floor in the morning (Bob nodes emphatically in agreement) and I head over to my skillet.  I crack a few eggs and wait for physics to do the rest.  But wait a sec!  I don't want my eggs over easy anymore, I want them scrambled!  Has that ever happened to you, Bob?

"Boy has it!  If I had a dollar for every time I changed my mind I could buy a space ship!"

"A space ship!  That sounds expensive Bob and I don't know what that is!  Uncertainty is the devil!  But with a brand new Spatula Brand Spatula you can exercise that demon right out of your kitchen!"

"Wow!  I sure would like to be rid of the devil!"

"Wouldn't we all, Bob, wouldn't we all!  And with my new invention you can rest your mind and your soul!  Ease your way into your morning with a Spatula Brand Spatula.

"Boy, that really sounds amazing, Tom.  I sure am tired of finger blisters and satanic temptation.  But I just don't know if I can afford one."

"Nonsense, Bob!  For a limited time only I'm offering the Spatula Brand Spatula for three easy installments of just $3.33!"

"$3.33!  Why that's under $10!"

"That's right, Bob!  For under $10 you can have the luxury of a wooden hand that doesn't blister or tolerate Satan!  And call me crazy but if you order now I'll throw in another Spatula Brand Spatula for only four more dollars!"

"Four dollars!?  That's like getting an extra Spatula for under half off!"

"That's right Bob but this offer won't last forever.  Order now and start cooking pain free as early as today!"

"Pain-free cooking… now there's a concept!  I'd sure love to get started on that!  But… I'm gonna have to run it by the wife first."

"Of course Bob.  Every good family relies on communication!  And every good family needs to eat!  With a Spatula Brand Spatula you'll be telling the wife, 'hey, i'm not only going to put food on the table.  I'm going to do it without blistering my fingers!'

"Or endangering my soul!"

"Exactly, Bob.  Now you're getting it!  Your wife will think you're the smartest man in the world!"

"She will?  That's great!  I'll take six."



…you know, or something like that.

You Don't Say That!

I had to take a break from wearing a head set while on-line gaming.  There were just too many twelve-year old punks shit talking me the entire time.  It’s really frustrating to have a little kid shit talk you as an adult and you can do next to nothing to physically intimidate them.  You can’t yell back because they’ll win that game every time. Those little bastards are all hopped up on sugar and caffeine.  Yelling is like Viagra to their stupidity.  Plus they can reach decibels that have been out of my range for twenty plus years.  You amplify that over a high definition sound system and you’d better put away all the sharp objects in the apartment because somebody’s gonna get cut. 

But the irritation wasn’t the worst part.  The worst part was that I didn’t yell back.  I tried.  It didn’t work.  And that pissed me off.  So I took a different approach.  I got factual.  A kid would start squeaking over the mic and I would respond with something like, “hey buddy, did you know that your parents have a 61% chance of getting divorced before you graduate high school?  Yeah, it’s true.  In fact, daddy is probably having sex with his secretary at work right now.  He’s never really home is he?  And mommy cries a lot too, doesn’t she?  That must be tough, huh buddy?  Well, don’t worry.  They usually only blame the divorce on the child for about fifteen years or so until they realize that they were never really meant to be together in the first place and you were just the catalyst that helped expedite that reality.  You might think I’m an asshole for telling you all of this but it will really be relevant when you are in your twenties and your therapist asks why you find comfort in cocaine and alcohol.  Oh, by the way, great kill.  You’re really good at Halo.”