Saturday, July 21, 2007

Stupefy!

Yeah, I stayed in tonight to buy the last Harry Potter book the second it came out. Yeah, I felt like a complete geek. Yeah, I was the only person in the store who's had sex with someone other than himself. Yeah, I'm not writing much lately, but I assure you, I'm still the biggest wiseass on the face of the planet.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Conversation of the Weekend

Butch McGuire's, 3 a.m., Friday.

Me: So, don't you think I'm like so hot?

Girl: Yeah, I think you're hot. You're really cute.

Me: Really cute?

Girl: Yeah, really cute.

Me: Hot?

Girl: Yeah, you're hot.

Me: How hot?

Girl: I don't know. It's kind of subjective.

Me: Then objectify me. I won't mind.

Girl: And how am I supposed to do that?

Me: Give me a number.

Girl: What? You want my number?

Me: No, I want a number. Grade my looks 1 through 10, 1 being Quasimodo, 10 being Brad Pitt.

Girl: Hmmm... I don't know.

Me: C'mon, grade me, turn me into a piece of meat, it'll be fun! I'll even take my sunglasses off so you can see my beautiful blue eyes and lashes.

Girl: Dude, you have the smallest butt I've ever seen. So super-cute! And your eyes are like a deep ocean blue. Very pretty eyes! And women would kill for your eyelashes.

Me: Yeah, I've heard all that before. Thanks. So...

Girl: Hmmm. I guess I'd give you an 8.5.

Me: What? 8.5? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! It's not like these points are currency or anything. If you use them on me, it's not like you can't use them on other people. They're like free flirting money. Why are you being so cheap?

Girl: I'm not being cheap!

Me: So, c'mon, round me up. What's the big deal? Tell me I'm a 9.

Girl: Well, ok, fine, I guess. You're a 9.

Me: Then what the fuck am I talking to your 6 ass for?!

Friday, July 06, 2007

Overthinking Man's Game

Baseball, much like certain of the writings from the desk of pvcnova, can be a complete mind fuck if you don't watch yourself.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Timeless

I have lately been telling people that I am 24 years old, which most are willing to believe, though I am in reality 30. If this math keeps up, at 50, I will claim 40, and at 80, 64. However, I am sure that by 100, I will beg off revealing how old I am and merely ask for help changing my diapers.