2004-01-27 - 2:23 p.m. A Funny Rants about the Terrible Thing that is "Guyness" So this week is the busiest week of work in the whole year for me. Which means the entries will be a lacking in numbers, but hopefully, not be so freaking useless. In fact, this one might be the only one for a bit, but I worked really hard on it. ************** So we were watching stand up the last night and it was pretty funny. Figured that I would take a whack, and try to write a funny entry. Let me know if �funny� exists somewhere from A to B. (A is the beginning and B is the end�so I probably should have said from B to E, but for some reason this would have been more confusing�) But please, read it through�it�s long, but it should be fairly grabbing. ********************** We went to a bowling alley/ trendy bar this weekend. Check out that combo�not two different places, but one large bowling alley trendy bar. This place is like a hip place to be in Boston. The thing that shocked me about this bowling alley bar was there was actually a successful joyous merger of both the trendy bar and the bowling alley. These are things that normally don�t go together. It�s kinda of like putting the baboon heart in the humans chest, or when the Canadian�s give you Mayo with your fries. It�s not often you see a girl where a fluorescent blue tank top, mini skirt, and bowling shoes. And it�s not like this place Spiffed up the bowling shoes. These actually ARE your grandfathers bowling shoes. But somehow putting on smelly old kicks, slapping some colored retro rectangles on the walls and dimming the lights turned a bowling alley from crappy to cool. I wish I could dim the lights in my apartment and have it go from dirty and filthy to sexy and sultry. �No honey�that�s not pair of soiled boxers which I should have thrown out four years ago. That�s a Prada �three holed floor coverer.� � It�s artistic.� The only other thing I noted at the Bowling alley bar was there were just white people there. I looked around and there were no black people at all. I am pretty sure why too. You see, I was at a basketball game once, and the music came on in between plays. Now I was watching the jumbotron, mostly because I love to watch TV when I am at a live sporting event. And I saw these two black kids dancing to the music. They were SO FUCKING GOOD. I couldn�t believe it, they were sliding side to side, spinning in time�it was like I was watching a music video. And just to follow suit they cut to a white guy, dancing� I mean, � Have you seen white guys dance?! Okay, so you already know how funny this is. You see he was like trying some sort of Robot/running man/moonwalk hybrid that pretty much looked like he was being electrocuted. Then to add to the shame they blinked �New Inductee into the Dancing Hall of Shame� on the jumbotron. As if this man hadn�t suffered enough. Funny thing is, they couldn�t have flashed the title �worst white-boy dancer ever�. Wanna know why? Because I currently hold that title! However I may not have it forever. I have to defend it against Doogie Howser next month. I have been training mostly by drinking excessive amounts of Yahoo and listing to CC Music Factory �greatest hits� which is really only one song. �I�ve got the Power!!!� But this leads me to the question, �why do women like white guys?� It�s like someone dimmed the light on white men, and women are none the wiser. We tan red, we aren�t that tall, we don�t have large penis, we don�t know Kung-fu, and we dance like retard freaks. Women know this! It�s not a surprise! Why is it when we talk to them at bars do they think it�s going to be any different. Are they actually thinking they are going to get some great guy who will water their flowers and make break�or what ever it is women like? I feel like going up to them and saying, �Look at that black man out on the dance floor. He is dancing with three woman at once, is a foot taller than me, can do pushups without hands, and will actually look BETTER when he starts to bald. Stop talking to me, and get some damn sense! This is why white guys go to bowling alley bars. There is no dancing, there is no techno music, and there are no size 15 shoes in stock. Plus, it�s little known fact, but only white people can bowl. No No�it�s true. It takes the grace and balance of a slightly intoxicated Irish man to master the �art� of bowling. This is why the trendy bowling bar is the place for me. Cause I can pick up chicks. Actually I haven�t had much luck picking up chicks as of late. And by �late� I mean �ever.� I think it has something to do with my pickup lines. I was thinking that girls like funny guys, but also tough guys. But I am not ripped, so I figured maybe if I was tough because of quick feet and quick wits. �like�a funny ninja. Chicks dig funny ninja�s right. I would just go up to them and be like: �I�m the comic ninja baby. My punch lines kick ass.� (Perform an air Punch and kicking combo) I thought this would be gold. But in reality that idea really sucked She was like �Well don�t ninja�s disappear?� and then I was like, �Some ninjas, but I�m more a thief ninja. I could steal the stars and put them in your eyes.� And then she was all insulted and was like, �you don�t like my eyes the way they are?� This was going bad. And I started thinking --more tough�less funny� So I said, �I was talking about Chinese stars to put in your eyes, �bitch� This was the point she threw her drink on me, and I, still thinking this was going well, gave her a karate chop to the neck, Ralph Macio Style, but since I wasn�t really a ninja it didn�t hurt, so she kneed me in the balls, and I flipped out and try the �crane� kick, but, but I fell and hit my head on something�and that was the last thing I remember. I guess I got thrown out while I was passed out. The weird part was I woke up in Chinatown. I guess that�s where they thought I lived. So the next time I went to pick up a girl I tried honesty. Ladies. Let me tell you this. You WANT us to be honest, but you shouldn�t. Example: �Hi, I�m Gumphood. I�m a daytime temp worker, and a nighttime comic. I hang out at bowling alleys, and I once woke up in Chinatown after I hit a girl. But if you want you could come by my place tonight�if you let me know now I could have my mom save some extra dinner for us, later. Or maybe your place is better?!� Yes, I live with my mom. But all you fuckers did too so I don�t want to hear it. � It�s just some of us have separation issues. You wouldn�t believe how hard it is to get a girl to take you to her place, when you reveal that you live with your parents. I think girls want to go to your place because they don�t actually want to reveal where they live. This is because men stalk women. Lets face facts. No guy is like �oh, I didn�t want to bring her to my place, cause what if she is like a stalker!� Men don�t think that way. Now; I am not a stalker, but I have always wondered just what the goal is. Like you are wearing all black, hiding in the bushes�what are you trying to do? What scenario is running through the stalkers head? �When she comes outside, I�ll jump out�and then I will be like �I�ve been waiting in the bushes here all night� and she then will have sex with me� That doesn�t even happen in the movies!!! How about a giving her a call stalker man! A dinner. A date. Try that avenue first. When is stalking the next move in the relationship? But guys don�t have to worry about stalkers. Take me for example. If a girl ever stalked me, and jumped out of the bushes wearing all black�I probably would have sex with her. Especially if it was a black negligee. I would be like� �well I was on my way to the bowling alley to TRY and have sex with a girl�but I mean�you kinda cut out the middle man. LETS GO!� But the thing is, she�d come in, I�d introduce her to the folks and I would take her up to my room, and she would leave. Why? Cause I have a sweet room dude. It�s so sweet. You have to check out it�s sweetness. I got a few pictures of clowns on the right wall, and then a rainbow over the bed, and some dioramas up on the shelves. You see I never redecorated my childhood room. What�s the goddamn point! When I am with a girl there are two possibilities. The first is that the girl that comes to my room fully understands that I am a loser who lives with his mom and dad. The second is that somehow she has managed to looked past the stocky frame, the dim wits, the lack of dinero, and the fact that the man which she is about to engage in sub-average copulation with lives with his mom and dad. And after she has come this far, I don�t think that some light bright, legos, transformers, He-Men, and a Teddy Ruxpin dolls are going to stop her. I already suck. How can this bring the bar any lower? She�s not turning back at that point. Plus I have a dirty tape for Mr. Ruxpin which has been known to drive the women crazy. Man, What can come out of that bears mouth!! The only remaining moment of humiliation, besides the actual sex, is the moment when she sees my tighy whities. Just kidding. Even I don�t wear tighty whities. Those things are awful. Women complain about lots of things men have done to them. They complain about how they have to wear sexy clothes, how we objectify them, they complain how a man invented Stirrups, how we invented breast implants, wine coolers, roofies� But women, you have gotten us back. Women invented tighty whities. Don�t fool yourselves. Those cotton bastards were invented by a pissed off woman. I can just see her, �Tell me my underwear is too big, tell me I need to show more skin�try these babies on for size.� An elastic waste with a gripping property which can only be describes as �ball huggers� More like a bear hug from a rabid grizzly. They don�t give my fella�s any room to breathe. It�s like a boa constrictor in my crotch. And don�t even, for a minute think, that they are easy to use in the bathroom. There is this double flap action that forces you to yank one side to the far right, and then to the far left. Now count�I have two hands, as I am holding two different directions. This means I take my third hand to remove my package �. Oh wait � I DON�T HAVE A THIRD HAND!!!! DAMN YOU WOMEN!!!! This now means I have to use one hand in a �jaws of life� motion to maintain the structural integrity of the opening that I am peeing out of while I reach in and try to aim the �gun�. Now try this after 8 beers. There is no doubt that you are going to piss all over yourself. It�s just a matter of when. Check out the guys at the bars who have wet crotches. Tighty whities�. And they also live with their mom�s Now I know this because Mom�s are the reasons people wear tighty whities. See Dad�s would never allow their kids to do that. They would either have them go commando or wear boxers. But Mom�s make the decisions, and they switch from Diapers to tighty whitiys, and children are stuck with that decision until one day they realize the horror that is tight white underwear. Mon's don�t understand the penis. Mom�s don�t know it needs freedom. The boys need room to rastle! Poor mothers just think �if panties are good enough for us, then they are good enough for my little tyke.� Of course you are 14 when she says this, but mothers and sons, like sons and porn mags ... have a hard time letting go. But someday the son realizes that he has been wearing tighty whityes for far too long. Then he will usually cry, and then he will usually go to the Gap and buy some fish pattern boxers. This usually occurs around the first sexual encounter, because ironically it takes a girl for a boy to discover how embarrassing Mother recommended tight white speedo shaped underwear can be. You all remember that encounter where the girl laughs wildly and giggles and then the next day all her friends laugh and giggle at you, and not in the movie way where they think your cute, more in that �he�s got leprosy� way. Or maybe this was just me�when I actually did have leprosy, and all the kids danced around me until my arm fell off. Then they ran away. It�s all fun and games until a leper loses an arm. That was almost as horrible as having my mom drive me to dances. Do remember that? Most of us have blocked it out, but before we could drive, our parents drove us to dances. You mom and dad in the front seat; you and your reluctant girl �date� in the back. First of all when guys go to dances, especially the first one, you didn�t have a suit. At least not a suit that fit. The pant legs were too short, or the jacket was too tight. The last time you wore it was when Uncle Lenny died of �resisting arrest.� If your dad wasn�t around it was �clip on� city, which was better than if your dad WAS around he would give you a tie for a man. And you my friend, were no man. At the first dance you go to that tie was so long you could use it to hang both you and your date. Not that she needed to be hung. She was probably looking pretty good with a nice new dress, makeup, having her hair done, and developing well beyond a boy both physically and mentally. Damn� It�s like she had a pit crew get her ready, when all you had was your mom licking down your cowlick. I was so embarrassed tried to hang myself with that tie twice, just in case I messed up the first time, because I was so pathetic. And I am talking so pathetic my mother didn�t take picture before I left because she said I wouldn�t want to remember this moment. The only nice thing about being that age was it was the final few months when we were still able to get happy meals. Happy meals were acceptable after age 15 I would say. As soon as you could drive yourself to get a happy meal, you shouldn�t be getting a happy meal. Not only is it totally unmanly, but they surprises now a days are fucking awful. Before they used to be these metal robots that you could throw at your kid brother and kill him. Now they are this furry troll things made from fake hair and sponge that basically have googley eyes on them and when you squeeze them; they suck. The rest of the time it�s like some doll thing or the goat from the Hunchback of Nortre Dame, because they ran out of the Hunchback if you can believe it. It�s totally unacceptable to order a happy meal too. Like you need to bring more question to your manhood. Of course this doesn�t hold true if you are a girl. Girls can still get away with getting a happy meal, not for the food, but for the Toy Surprise. Which really was the only reason to get the �Ethiopian� portions they dolled out in the happy meal (extra small fry coming up!!!) I think girls get these because they like Disney movies, and like those little plastic figures in their cars. How many times does a girl have a little Nemo Fish, or an Ariel figurine. It�s like the Winne the Pooh phenomenon. Girls can have pooh all over them and it�s socially acceptable. Pooh socks, pooh shirts, pooh pajama, pooh panties, even pooh dildos. (Though I hear they prefer to have Tiggers on the dildo, because Tiggers never stop bouncing) But it�s a totally double standard. If a guy has Tigger or Piglips, or Mr. Rabbit Face clung to their windows of their car or the back of their knapsack, the closest they are getting to pussy is Debbie�s Pet Land. And the only honey pot they�ll ever taste is in the 100 acre woods. | |||||||||||
