(I am currently experiencing terrible writer’s block though, so to make this post possible, I had to phone a friend. Like “Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” but instead of money and prizes, everyone gets to read. Just as good, right?)
Lately I’ve had to read a bunch of depressing stuff about mental illness and suicidal teenagers, so my joking game is pretty weak. However, I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by a group of Humor Jedi masters, and the LOL’s are strong within them. I turned to my friend Colin for help on this FBF post after we recently had an extremely in-depth and meaningful discussion about my town putting in a new Chick-Fil-A.
Despite their openly anti-gay stance, he still eats there as much as possible because fast food trumps ideology any day. And even though they’re not open on Sunday’s, every day at Chick-Fil-A is the sabbath (according to Colin).
Some have criticized his unfaltering love of the establishment, but there will always be haters and also, YOLO.
So there you have it, folks. My half-assed Funny Blog Friday post, all thanks to my brother from another mother. Shout out to him and the rest of the FBF crew! <3
(Seriously, go read their posts, they actually put work into them.)
(I was supposed to post this earlier this morning but I died yesterday around 2:00am and finally had to kick my ass out of bed. Because that’s how much I care.)
I might be dead right now. I’m not completely sure.
I decided to make Long Island Iced Teas on New Year’s Eve, but with really cheap alcohol and barely any Coke. (Also I forgot the Triple Sec, but in all honesty, I have no clue what that is anyway.)
One thing that really pissed me off though was that stupid bottle of 1800 tequila. It has a cork-thing as a top and after struggling with it for about 200 years, it popped open and covered me in stinky fucking tequila. I almost barfed right there because I forgot how that is the smell of being disgustingly hungover.
Originally, I’d bought all this alcohol for a group of friends to have over that night. I spent all day meticulously cleaning my apartment (I found so much stuff Alessandro and I lost over the past 8 months, it was scary), and busting my ass to make nice food and bullshit, but of course my friends are total dicks and didn’t come.
Too afraid of D.U.I.’s or whatever… bitches.
Anyways, I thought about how I never really make New Year’s resolutions but if I’m going to start, they’re gonna be things that I TRULY wanna do so that I actually do them. None of this “lose weight, volunteer, stop beating your wife” bullshit. Real resolutions.
My 2015 Resolutions:
1. “Kill people, burn shit, fuck school.”
Cause that’s what Tyler the Creator says and, frankly, I have to agree.
2. Start smoking everywhere I want, no matter how inappropriate or not-allowed.
For example, the children’s ward at the hospital, church, maybe even in a bar.
3. Take Eminem’s advice on EVERYTHING.
(But like 2000-era Eminem. Not him today. He went soft.)
4. Live every day like it’s the first 30 minutes of “Intervention”.
Before they actually give the intervention.
5. See how long I can go without taking a shower.
My current record is like 5 days. You’d be amazed how little others notice about your hygeine.
Well, that’s it. Remember that you can enter the contest here: Rafflecopter.com (or comment on this post) and win a $25 gift card to these places. Good luck and Happy New Year/Funny Blog Friday!!!
(According to me. If you disagree or would like to add some, please type it loud and proud in the comments. Or evaluate me on a psychological basis. It’s up to you.)
This is my gratuitous “What I’m Thankful For” post. Though often trite, these posts are necessary to mankind because we’re all usually ungrateful dicks. So here’s my list of things that I’m thankful for never ceasing to make me laugh.
Self-explanatory. If you disagree, you clearly don’t know any gastroenterologists.
2. “Today Show” Fails.
Drunk people on morning tv? Never gets old. Specifically ANYTHING Matt Lauer does or says. The man is a god.
3. Cats doing anything.
Need I say more?
6. The Clip of George W. Bush Dodging That Shoe.
7. Drunk Animals on YouTube.
Look it up. You won’t be sorry.
8. Larry David.
9. The Movie “Super Troopers”.
You can agree or not. I’ll still be laughing.
10. Henry Winkler.
Just because. It’s like asking “Why is poop funny?” It just is.
11. People Falling.
12. Tina Fey And Amy Poehler Together.
They’re amazing. I wish I had a best gal pal.
So that’s my list. What about you people? What never stops being funny to you?
(“In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups. The police who investigate crime and the district attorneys who prosecute the offenders. These are their stories…”)
Hello everyone! Welcome back to Funny Blog Friday! I totally forgot to write this post yesterday due to excessive napping and forgetfulness, so I’m kind of slapping together something quick before time runs out. Please visit all the FBF bloggers because they’re awesome and some of them are giving away more prizes (plus, you all know you need a laugh).
This story, dear friends, stays in the realm of themes of my recent posts: exes, alcohol, trouble of all kinds, Alanna (the heroine of our tale) rising above moral depravity and, as usual, taking the high road. Before I tell the harrowing story of how I got my very first underage drinking, I’d like to point out that everything I say may or may not be factual, so if you’re a cop, keep walking. There’s nothing to read here.
Our Tale Begins On The Eve Of Labor Day Weekend, 2012…
‘Twas Friday, August 31st. A warm day, though not too hot for jeans. I had just moved into my college dorm only a week prior. My school was stupid and put me in the freshman dorms even though I was a sophomore, so I shared a room with a nice young girl who was really religious and had Jesus stuff all over. That weekend, she was going home to visit her family so I thought it would be a good idea to invite my then-boyfriend over to stay for the holiday. How very wrong I was…
Zach and I had the entire weekend planned: we’d chill Friday night around campus, go to the local farmer’s market on Saturday (which my father actually had a surprise for us instead), and basically just lie around watching tv after sitting on a bench making fun of the runners and skateboarders on Sunday. A relaxing weekend for a couple who usually never got a chance for relaxation due to our constant and almost compulsive need to cause trouble.
Friday afternoon, we were at Zach’s father’s house, arriving just as they left for their annual Labor Day weekend trip to their cabin somewhere in Pennsylvania. We (actually, I) immediately broke into the lock on their keg fridge, and we proceeded to fill empty water bottles with beer. After a few hours of drinking beer, watching tv, and looking through his father’s and step mother’s things just for random laughs and being nosy, we packed up the rest of our beer and headed back to my campus. It was awesome. Almost nobody was there and we finished the beer while cranking Lil’ Wayne and manically dancing in my dorm room.
I should have known something was wrong when we went downstairs to smoke a cigarette and Zach tried sliding down the railing, but fell right over the side and busted his ass on the ground. Everyone who was hanging out in the common room totally saw it and rushed over to be all, “Is he okay?!?!” As Zach cracked up laughing and hobbled down the remaining stairs, I said, “Yeah, he’s fine. You kids never saw this.” And ran out before the R.A. who wanted me dead (sort of) saw us being drunk.
Earlier that week, I made friends with a group of Engineering majors who lived in one of the adjacent dorms (which were basically apartments) and since they were mostly all over 21, I’d hang with them and drink. I got the foolish idea that maybe my new friends (all of whom were guys, by the way) would get along with Zach and we’d all have a nice time. Plus, I wanted to drink more, so ya know, win-win. Or so I thought…
The second Zach and I arrived at my friends’ dorm, he started giving offensive nicknames to them. My Marine friend was “Jarhead”. My friend whose parents were from Germany was “Germany”. (Some of them I can’t repeat and others I can’t remember. I was drinking, too.) When “Germany” arrived, he had some vanilla-flavored rum and Cherry Coke which he made into a drink he was proud of. Zach’s first words to him were, “Your drink really matches your sandals.”
(What a dick.)
Basically, Zach embarrassed the shit out of me in front of all my new friends, acting like a total asshole and telling them some extremely private things. He even downed like half of a half-gallon of Evan Williams which belonged to “Germany”. (The next morning, my one friend texted me that everyone agreed they didn’t want Zach to come back because of his behavior.) So once things officially got out of control that night, I tried to make him act as sober as possible for the 100-yard walk back to my building. Everything seemed fine. (Especially after we smoked a joint in the shower. Not like “in” the shower, but in the part of the bathroom with the shower because it has a vent and you can turn the water up really hot so… blah blah, etc.) Then we fall asleep. In my mind, the giant “Mission Accomplished” banner was flying beautifully.
I stirred from my sweet slumber from fists pounding on my door and loud voices from the hallway yelled at me to, “Open up!” The clock on my bedside table read 5:11 and Zach was nowhere to be seen. I said, “Alright, alright! I’m coming!” already annoyed that someone would dare wake me up at this unholiest of times. (I’m a really deep sleeper and I tend to punch people who try to wake me up.)
I opened the door to see a campus “police officer” (air quotes and sarcastic tone) and the Residential Life Coordinator (whatever that is) standing before me. If I gave any attitude, it’s because it was 5 o’clock on a Saturday morning and I hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Do you know Zach ____? He says he’s a guest of yours.”
“Yes…” What in the fuck could he have possibly done this time?! I thought to myself.
“We caught him running around campus naked and appearing to be intoxicated. He’s currently being held in the jail cell until his parents arrive. He says his clothing is here?”
(WHAT A DICK.)
I composed myself and got his clothes to give to the “police officer”.
“Wait, like jail? At the station downtown?”
“No, the campus headquarters [lol, “headquarters”] has a holding cell.”
So he’s in pretend prison? But I didn’t say that outloud because then this asshole started asking me questions.
“Was Zach drinking this evening?”
It’s morning, dickhead. “Yes.”
“May we come inside to check your room?”
“Do you have a warrant?”
“No, we don’t need one. Campus policy.” (LIES LIES LIES LIES. They TOTALLY need a warrant, but that’s a story for another time.)
They come inside and ask me stupid shit and this guy’s acting like he’s a real cop or something, and SURPRISE! He doesn’t find any evidence of drugs or alcohol.
“Were you drinking as well?”
“Let me smell your breath.” (Hey, kids: this is 100% illegal. If a cop ever asks you this question, bring up the 4th Amendment and send his pig-ass packing. #themoreyouknow)
“Uhh… no, I just woke up.” (He then MAKES me do it. Then he coerces me into telling him I drank which is also totally illegal.)
“I just had some beer.”
“Oh really?” maniacally laughing. “Doesn’t smell like you just drank ‘some beer’. That beer have rubbing alcohol in it?” Laughs again. I consider what murder would do to my transcript. “Well, I’m charging you for underage drinking. This is a copy of your citation. You’ll get a letter telling you when to be in court, I suggest A.R.D. Have a nice weekend.”
So there’s the story of how I got my first and only law violation because my ex ran around my college naked. (He got locked out to go to the bathroom and thought that the giant blue emergency lights were telephones.) I also missed the phone call Saturday morning from my dad who had planned to fly me and my cousins to a Phillies game in Atlanta at Turner-freakin’-Stadium. I don’t know what the moral here is, people, but college is stupid and Penn State can eat it. The end.
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