Who The Fuck Made Brandon Crawford’s Daughter Cry?

I’m not kidding I think this is the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t think it’s too far to say that Brandon Crawford shouldn’t be prosecuted if he decides to hunt down these dickheads in Kill Bill fashion. 

I’m sure Jesus wouldn’t be all too happy with me casting the first stone here. I’ve said a lot worse things at arena’s than “You suck”. I know it’s a rivalry game, and they were probably boozin. I guess I want to know if the guys knew that Crawford’s daughter was right next to them. Actually, look at her face. She’s clearly to hold back the tears as one goes down her cheek. Fuck them whether the knew or not. 

I’ve said things at an LSU vs Bama game that would make Satan himself blush. Maybe I’m getting soft, but I don’t care. I have three little nieces now that I watch every Monday. I know it’s not the same as having your own kids. But I’m telling you right now, if grown men ever made my nieces make that face, I would castrate them. 

Who the fuck goes at Brandon Crawford anyway? Guys a career .250 hitter. Has he really been haunting your franchise for years? No disrespect to Brandon, but is that really the guy who’s skin you need to get under? Problem is Dodgers fans are a bunch of yuppies who don’t know shit about shit. I’m rooting for Brandon Crawford now. Fuck the Dodgers and fuck these guys. 

Summer Actually Does Suck, Get Me To Big Boy Winter

Hot Boy Summer isn’t a rallying cry, it’s a plea for mercy. Hating on summer isn’t a take for the sake of being a contrarian, summer sucks. If I have seasonal depression, it’s not the season where I’m watching football with no one to tell me to get out of the house to get some sunlight. 

Comfort wise it isn’t even close. They literally call summer the dog days, and boy do I breathe like one during those months. Filling your lungs with a crisp winter air though? It’s God’s natural vapes. You can always put more layers on, there’s only so many you can take off. 

A guy wearing an open button up with no shirt underneath and sunglasses on has most punchable face in the world. For me, picking out something to wear in the summer is worse than Sophie’s Choice. In the winter I can wear a fresh beanie and a jacket to cover my fat to compete. In the summer, the only way I can somewhat trick people into thinking that I’m not THAT overweight is to wear dark black clothes. The color that will attract the most heat. 

Pain is beauty. Time to pack myself in like a sardine at some stupid Tiki Bar. The worst kind of bar. You don’t meet anyone new at a Tiki Bar? You spend your entire time tactically playing a game of Risk where you and your friends slowly take over a chunk of a bar where you can get a drink without waiting forty minutes trying to get your next round. People bumping into you the whole time. Yours and their arm sweat sliding against each other as they pass. 

All to get too drunk. It’s scientifically proven somehow that you get more drunk in the sun. It’s probably because you’re replacing all the water you sweat out with booze. Every time I go to the bar for another round I wear a look on my face that says “please don’t serve me.” They never listen. The odds of making a bad decision in the summer is tenfold. Tis the season for making an ass out of yourself. The sun, decor, and outfits play tricks on your brain to make you think that you’re James Bond. When at best you’re James Corden.

But what’s the alternative? I sit in my house and fight a two front war on shame? First I have to fend off my mother who won’t stop opening my shades “to let the sun in,” the exact same sun that I’m trying to escape from. That’s her first hint. Then it’s “Oh what’re all your friends doing?” and “Aren’t you sick of watching TV?” No, I’m not. I’m not sick of air conditioning either. Sometimes I think she recruits my friends because they’re my next biggest obstacle. Inviting me to do things? How dare they. I hate more than anything feeling obligated to do things for the sake of doing things. God forbid I don’t answer and they start sending me Snapchats. That only makes me more mad because they put on a good front of having fun. It’s like seafood for me, I see my friends enjoying it and I know I should like to too, but I just don’t. 

I want football, and Christmas, and Buffalo wings, and cold hangovers. I love to brood when I drink. Do you know how hard it is to brood in the summer? Throws me out of my element. So I tough it out during these months. I cross off my calendar counting down the days until winter. The season where the rest of the world is just as miserable as I am. Because when we’re on an even playing field, that’s where I fucking thrive.

The Red Sox Are Cheating Again

Following this weekend’s series, the Yankees are now 0-6 against the Red Sox, 4th in the AL East, 6.5 games out of first, 5.5 games out of the Wild Card, and undefeated in kicking me repeatedly in the heart balls. The only thing keeping me going is the Red Sox cheating scandal. 

It’s very early stages scandal. By that I mean I have no evidence, no facts, no reason to believe that the Red Sox are cheating. I only know that it’s true because I need it to be true. That’s what the MLB is today. If you don’t like someone or something, find a reason to call them cheaters. 

Here’s all I got. Sox ended last year in last place. Literally eating the Orioles dust. Nobody took them seriously coming into this year. They had no incoming talent, the starters were suspect, and the bullpen was woof. The only difference between 2020’s last place team and 2021’s first place team is one man, Alex Cora. Known cheater, Alex Cora. Oh where was he last year? Canned by the Red Sox and suspended by the MLB for his contributions in the Astro’s cheating carnival. He had a whole year to sit in his living room and concoct the next evolution in the Apple watches and garbage can bloodline. I don’t know what he’s doing but he’s doing something.

And why wouldn’t you cheat? What’s the consequence? You lose a manager, GM, and a couple front office guys? You show me a single owner who wouldn’t trade them for a World Series and I’ll show you a liar. Hell, I’ll give you Boone for a bag of pretzels. 

Now that we agree that the Red Sox are guilty until proven innocent, what can the Yankees do to combat it. Seriously, any ideas? I have no good reasons for why this team isn’t good. Judge, Gio, and Stanton are actually performing. LeMahieu still got it, but he’s underperforming comparatively speaking to the last two seasons. I guess you can’t expect him to bat .340 every year. Gleyber looks like a lost puppy. No one told Clint there’s a game outside of bat speed. Everyone’s back on Gary’s dick completely disregarding the past practice that he’s probably a week and a half away from taking a month long vacation. Any starter not named Gerrit Cole is 4.00+ era. Not to mention, I don’t think it’s time to panic, but if you don’t have a lump in your throat while defending Cole you’re lying to yourself. The pen has been alright. The base running has been little league. And someone, anyone, needs to punch Boone in the fucking face. Wake him up. 

I’ve never been so lost on a trade deadline. Trade for Scherzer? Marte? Gallo? I don’t know if this teams worth it. The kid we traded for Taillon has a 2.00 era and 64 Ks in 45 innings pitched, so that’s great. The Scranton team has a AAA best 32-13. Maybe take a peak down there? Dominguez had his pro debut today. I don’t care that he went 0-2 with a walk, call him up. Fuck it, hit out the nukes. I’m kidding obviously, that’s ridiculous, irresponsible, and counter productive. But also I don’t know how much I’m kidding anymore. 

I mean, as much our pitching takes slack, it’s still Top 10 in era as a whole. We’re above league average in OPS, and the long ball is still right there. Plus people forget we’re out our 2 and 3 starters in Sevy and Klub….no. I need to stop. I’m going to talk myself into thinking we’re fine. We’re not fine, this is Stockholm’s syndrome. Steinbrenner’s syndrome even. 

The only actual contribution I can think up is to give CC a blank check to watch every single game inside the dugout. Media is coming at us from angles, along with our fans, and loud mouth Sox fans. I love Judge, and how he handles the media, but we’re lacking a command presence in that locker room. 

I’ll let you in on a secret. I looked up hitting statistics from the Sox last year to this year hoping I’d find something and came up empty handed. They were hitting last year. Hitting the shit out of the ball this year too. But they’re still cheating, and I’m going to figure out what it is. I’ll keep going until I find something or I come up with a better lie. Or until the Yankees make a run. Whatever comes first.

List Of People I Find Too Cocky

Real quick, I had a rough couple of days. I swear it’s relevant. I’ve been sleeping on my couch since my Aunt came up from Florida to donate her kidney to some distant cousin of hers. After putting in a 20 hour shift at work, I said fuck the couch and got a hotel room. I wound up getting super sick and it was one of the worst nights of my life.

As I was checking in, pre-sick, the hotel employee was one of the cockiest dudes I ever dealt with. He was like mad at me for trying to stay at his hotel? He scoffed when I told him I didn’t have a reservation. My man, this is a Holiday Inn in the suburbs on a Wednesday, not Bethlehem during the census. 

As I lay dying, shout out William Faulkner, the only thing I could think about was how unnecessarily cocky that conscierge was. I started compiling a list of people I find too cocky, here’s what I came up with. 

Servers Who Don’t Write Down The Order:

Look, I know that you’re probably capable of handling this but my 65 year old father doesn’t. A lot of things could happen between now and the time our food hits the table. Whether it was your fault, the kitchen’s fault, or the food runners fault, you’re to be blamed now all because you want to show off your little parlor trick. 

The “You Want Sum?!” British Guy:

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMdfmpp7G/

What does this guy know that I don’t? Anything short of him being some secret Jason Bourne agent and I’m cleaning him. 

Hibachi Chefs:

We’re not reinventing the wheel here. Everyone’s seen you’re little volcano, alright? Get some new material. So I couldn’t catch a little shrimp in my mouth, big deal? No need to have a little water bottle guy piss on me and have half a table of strangers laughing in my face. 

The North Sentinelese: 

They’re the meanest people on Earth and everyone constantly makes excuses for them. They kill and eat anyone who tries to say whatsup. Where do you get off? Anyone could blast you. I got news for you North Sentinelese, fightings changed a lot in 1000 years and if you came at me with rocks and spears I’m fucking you up. 

Middle-Aged People On Facebook:

You don’t know anything, like at all. Every day you get tricked on Facebook. Every single day. Stop yelling at me to educate myself at Thanksgiving because you read 100 fake articles on Facebook. You have no idea how the internet works. You know how your parents gave up their inheritance over the telephone? Some fake social security scam where they give up all their personal information and you thought, how could they fall for that? That’s how we feel about you on Facebook.

Bob Saget:

Look, I don’t dislike Bob Saget but the man is cocky. People are out here every damn day getting canceled and he is constantly saying reckless shit. Bob was the face of family television for a lot of us. Host of AFV, Danny Tanner on Full House. Then what does he do? Writes a book called “Dirty Daddy” talking about doing whipits on set and groping the dolls they had sit in for the Olsen twins during practices. 

My Best Friend Ordering A Soft Shell Crab Sandwich At An Old Diner:

It was after a Rascal Flatts concert and we were all drunk off our asses but that was still no excuse. It’s an old dirty diner. It’s meant for cheese fries, not seafood. You could tell nobody had ever ordered it. They had to blow the dust off that thing. It had probably been sitting in the freezer since 1976. I’m pretty sure the waitress said “You sure?” when he ordered it. 

That’s it, the end. For now. There’s no other way to sign off on this. I know it and you know it. So if you’re thinking about criticizing my last paragraph here, don’t get too cocky. 

Real Life Duttons (Yellowstone) Run For Governor In Idaho

When I first started watching Yellowstone, I thought there was no way people still live like this. Cowboys and Native American reservations, fighting with with the federal government over cattle territory. I mean, what century is it? None of it seemed plausible until I read about the Bundy family. 

The Bundy family first came into the limelight over a lands dispute with the government in 2014. The feds came knocking for a cool million from the patriarch, Clive Bundy, for twenty-one years of grazing fees. So pretty much his cattle was chilling on federal land, so the government said “fuck you pay me”. He refused, they took his cattle, so this old ass rancher got in a damn standoff with Uncle Sam. 

Cliven, such a dope name, started recruiting militia from all over the country to fight off the Bureau of Land Management. Like wtf? How do you even have militias phone numbers. He wrote his plea titled “Range War Emergency Notice and Demand For Protection” and people answered his call. Since the Bundys declare Range War on the US they sent a bunch of armed men over to handle the situation. 

Well it all came to head on April 12th when the Bundy protestors decided to block Interstate 15 and cause a two hour traffic delay on both sides. That alone should be 25 to life. The militia tactically set up on overheads and had rifles ready to take out Bureau Agents while the Bundys met them on horseback armed to the teeth. They returned the cattle within thirty minutes.

Think the Bundy’s stopped there? Cliven’s sons Ammon and Ryan decided two years later to overtake and occupy a federal building in Oregon for over a month. They claimed to protest tyranny and demanded federal lands to be transferred over to rancher property. The occupation ended in a shootout with one militia member killed. 

Now you’re probably wondering about the title. How in the hell could these guys run for governor from prison? Well it’s simple, they’re not in prison. They were acquitted. This is some Dutton family, Yellowstone type shit. How many people do the Bundys have in their pocket to get away with stealing a federal building for 41 days, shooting their way out, only to walk around like nothing happen.

Avoiding jail would’ve been enough for me to take my ball and go home. But Ammon Bundy, ringleader of the 2016 shootout, has decided to take a victory lap. He’s rubbing the government’s nose in his freedom by running for Governor of Idaho. Because if there’s one thing that anti-government people love, it’s joining the government.

How Much Money Would A Male Sex Podcast Make?

The answer is: not enough to cover the bail. Any man who created a sex-geared podcast would be on every FBI watchlist possible. There would be nothing edgy or enlightening about it, just downright creepy. Is it a double standard? Probably. But it’s definitely one we should keep in tact. 

When Call Her Daddy took the internet by storm, how did the female community react? They empowered one another, started calling each other sluts endearingly, they formed a gang and made bylaws encouraging infidelity. How would guys react if there was a dudes sex podcast? “Cool man, you have sex. We get it.”

Guys can’t have a sex podcast because 80% of their stories are made up. It would be more like gross fan fiction. Nobody wants to hear my sex podcast. I don’t want to hear my sex podcast? No ones intrigued by me drunkenly hitting up an ex at 3am so I can clumsily fiddle around with her bra strap for a silent six minute escapade with the lights off and my shirt on. The only place a guy giving instructions for a Slurp Slurp 9000 should be seen is on a police report. 

Congratulations to Alex Cooper who is now officially making more money per year than Noh Syndergaard. There’s going to be a lot of copycats that stem from the Spotify deal. Let’s hope none of them are men. 

Would You Have Sex With The Toothless Tik Tokker?

During this blog, I’m going to try and remain honest with you and myself. But no promises. This toothless Tik Tokker has been all over every social media outlet for her makeup and dentures transformation. 

I don’t know this woman’s story or what she’s been through. But she’s been through it. For the sake of this question, I don’t want anyone to know her story. We’re basing this little experiment solely on looks. I know that’s not really kosher, but fuck off like you don’t have a Tinder profile? 

In a different century, she’d be burned at the stake for this. I don’t want to hear another word about my receding hairline when I take my hat off. Not when women are shapeshifting like this. 

I think you already know the answer to my title. I wouldn’t have written this whole thing just to say no? That’d be silly. You can act like you’re above it, with that little ego of yours. But you can’t expect me to believe if bottom picture asked you to come back to her place after a night out on the dance floor that you’d say no. She’s hot. You’d take down Melissandre and you know it. 

The worst part about all of this is that I’m acting like I’d still be the decision maker. It hurts, but there’s a high probability that @princxssglitterhead takes one good look at me and laughs at my attempt to pick her up. The irony isn’t lost on me, I’m laughing at the thought of getting turned down by a gummy Hocus Pocus character. But I’m only laughing on the outside. 

I Watched My First Premier Lacrosse League Game

I’m perpetually looking for new sports to fill my free time and different ways to lose my money. I gave soccer a go this year and immediately went with Man City strictly based on them being in first for the Premier League. Heartbreak in my first year of fandom, as they lost the Champions Cup final. Looking to fill my soccer void, I decided to lacrosse a look.

Following my soccer model, I checked to see who won it all last year and decided to be a Whipsnakes fan. I’ve never seen a lacrosse game. Match? Not at any level, not even my friends’ high school game. So in order to pop my cherry, I watched last year’s championship between the Redwoods and MY Whipsnakes. 

Lacrosse is chaotic but there’s a poetry to it. It’s violent and clunky, but somehow smooth at the same time. I don’t think I’ll ever play it, but so far, I do think I will continue watching it. 

The physicality of the game isn’t a classic brute type of violence. Like it’s not a bloody Nate Diaz or a broken nose JJ Watt kind of carnage but more of a suck your teeth kind of pain. Which I think is worse. I’d rather be punched in the face than stub my toe really hard, if that makes any sense. Those sticks definitely hurt and I was pissed that the players were pretending like they didn’t. At one point the ball was on the ground getting kicked around, and this maniac comes up and just starts whipping dudes in the shins. It would’ve been enough for me to drop my stick and walk out the stadium right then and there. 

The ball that they use makes absolutely zero sense. There is just no way that they all see that ball. The reaction times are insane, and I honestly don’t understand how more people aren’t getting blasted in the face by this thing. The goalies? Biggest balls in the world. The average lacrosse shot is around 90-105 mph and weighs the same as a baseball. Like imagine Aroldis Chapman told you to that he was going to throw a baseball at your chest in the hopes that it goes by you, and your response was, “Nah I think I’ll block it instead.” Are you kidding me? I would fucking sprint in the opposite direction if a lacrosse ball was shot at me. Any sort of save is nothing short of a miracle. 

I do have some notes. I don’t understand why someone who scored from behind the arc got two points but the guy who pulled up from half only got one. Do they wear cups and if not, do they immediately die if hit in the jewels? Also, the slow-mo needs to be just a little bit slower for a more dramatic affect. 

Only thing for me to do now is learn the players. I want to know the rivalries, the gripes, the drama. I need to know why people are getting their fingers bitten off. I think this will really take off once the betting is more availble. I live in New Jersey and between DraftKings and Fanduel the only thing I can bet right now is a future on the league winner. Betting on individual games will undoubtedly get the blood pumping, but for now I’ll just throw a future on my Whipsnakes. 

The Dual-Anniversary Paradox

When did dating anniversaries become a thing? I know my parents didn’t have one. Maybe they’re not the best example, but I don’t know anyone’s parents who celebrate when they became “boyfriend and girlfriend.” But now my friends are getting married. So will they have to do two anniversaries? One married and one dating?

You know what I’m talking about with dating anniversaries right? When you’re scrolling through Instagram and a couple is posting the same pictures of each other. The girl’s caption is like “4 years with my best friend. Thank you for all the laughs, snuggles, inside jokes, and being the best dog dad in the world. I love you to the moon.” And the guy’s caption is like, “4 years with this one.” 

It’s a lot of pressure that anniversary date. You have to dress up and get some fancy dinner. Maybe even buy each other gifts. Another expensive day of doing things. Then what? Once you get married you have an exact replica of that day just on a different part of the calendar? Sounds dreadful. 

It’s not like you can suggest that you only celebrate one anniversary from now on. Imagine that fight? It’s not enough that you got married, you have to keep reminding yourselves that you once dated too. 

Timing would be key here. I’ve always had terrible timing. My last girlfriend and I started dating like a little after midnight on New Years. Which is something I never would have done but she was really really mad at me. Apparently it wasn’t cool of me to call my Mom from outside the bar as the ball dropped. Then staying out there for the next twenty minutes to call my grandparents, dad, brother, sister and nieces only made things worse. It took twenty minutes into a new year for all of her friends to tell me how big of an asshole I am. I tried talking to her but she just kept on crying, and crying, and crying so I made her my girlfriend to make it all go away. Perked right up. Ten minutes later I’m on top of the world, on the dance floor doing the Carlton to a Blues Traveler song. My smile faded slowly into shock as I realized for the rest of this relationship, instead of spending New Year’s Day hungover in my bed, I’m going to have to dress up nice and buy an expensive dinner. If you couldn’t tell from this blog, it didn’t last a year for me to see how it would have played out. 

Learn from my mistakes, think this one through. If you have to celebrate two anniversaries, you have to have your wedding like six months after your dating date. Give the old wallet a break. Plus if it’s too close together you’ll have to explain to the boys you can’t play Warzone that night because it’s your anniversary and one of them will go “Didn’t you just have an anniversary?” Then you’ll get roasted. Men have memories like dogs, if it’s six months apart, they’ll think it’s been a year since your last one.

In fact, I do have a solution. But the stars would have to align. Or you’ll have to wait for them to align. Don’t propose until there’s a year where your dating anniversary is on a Friday or Saturday. Then explain how romantic it would be if you got married on the same date, “It could be our date forever.” But really, you just cut your anniversaries in half. 

Our National Pandemic Nightmare Is Almost Over

It’s been months and months but thankfully people are beginning to shut the fuck up about it. It sucks, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that this isn’t going anywhere. Year after year we’re probably going to have to deal with this. But the good news is, we’re in the homestretch. In a few weeks maybe, hopefully everyone will stop talking about their “allergies”.

“Allergy season” is the worst few months of the year for small talk. I put it in quotations because I know damn well that most people have no idea if they’re allergic to pollen, they just want in on the fun. But every day there is a minimum of two people who say something like “Ughhh my allergies are killing me today,” or “Yeah I always get it bad at change of seasons,” or “The pollen is crazy today! You should have seen it on my car.” I don’t care. And I certainly don’t care what kind Claritin you use, stop telling me.

You can’t even sneeze in peace this time of year. Someone, thinking that they’re comforting you over a fucking sneeze, always says something like “Oh my allergies are bad today too, are yours bad?” Every time I respond “Yeah, I don’t have allergies,” it’s met with pure disgust. Their stare conveys their message: what is wrong with you, why can’t you just play along with the rest of society. What do you think you’re too good for allergies? Yes, yes I do think that. 

What the fuck is so bad about allergies anyway? A runny nose and watery eyes? That’s what’s taking you out? I shit you not, I saw this girl I know on Instagram post herself hooked up to this machine, she looked like Darth Vader with no helmet, the caption read: ughhh gonna be one of those days. The next picture was like ten bottles of pills and vitamins. Do you want the cure for allergies, cause I’ll give it to you. Have a cup a tea and grow up. 

I looked it up, pollen allergy symptoms should start to dwindle after the first week of June. But I’ll be on the lookout for fakers during July and August. The problem is these people will be back October. But if you’re one of them, one of these allergy liars, please remember when it goes from hot to cold or cold to hot there is a strong possibility that you just have a cold and not allergies. I promise you’ll live. 

Saban Gearing Up To Cuck Dabo

College football is coming into full swing, and it’s been a big week for Alabama. CFP announces that it’s considering a 12 team playoff right on the heels of Nick Saban’s eight year extenstion. Not that there wasn’t already a guarantee that Bama would make the playoffs each year, but now they could probably even sneak in with three losses if need be. The cherry on top? Looks like Saban is working his magic to steal Matayo Uiagalelei, Clemson’s starting quarterback’s little brother. 

Matayo Uiagalelei is a 6’5”, 265 pound junior defensive lineman. You might remember his brother DJ, who stepped in for Trevor Lawrence while he was under Covid protocol. The same DJ Uiagalelei who lost not once, but twice to future Alabama starting quarterback Bryce Young in high school. But that’s neither here nor there. 

You might be thinking there’s no way. No matter what Saban’s done, he can’t out-recruit someone’s own brother. But Big Brother isn’t calling the shots, Big Dave is. 

Big Dave is the father of Matayo and DJ Uiagalelei. It seems the family is keeping an open mind to recruiting. Nick Saban’s just a family man, that’s all. A father above all else. He probably wasn’t even recruiting. Just wanted to chat with Big Dave. You heard the man, Nick Saban just gets it.

Now we all know Alabama doesn’t pay players. We’re too good-natured for that sort of stuff. Clemson on the other hand, probably does. I mean, how else could you explain this meteoric rise to college football domination. Could Big Dave be using this as a negotiation tactic to make Dabo cough up the bag? No. Unlikely, he’s just a father looking out for the best interest of his son. Unless Matayo ends up at Clemson, then that’s exactly what he’s doing.

My pitch to Big Dave would be the prospect of a Disney movie. That’s where the real money is. Brothers play on the same team all the time, nobody cares about that. Do you know how many brothers have played against each other in the National Championship? None. I didn’t fact check that but there’s no way. Two brothers fighting for the same trophy? ESPN would eat that shit up. Picture this: Clemson’s down three with a minute left. DJ is going no huddle and moving the chains with ease. But it’s fourth down now. DJ drops back, sheds the first tackle, sees a reciever open down field for a touchdown and winds up, BAM. Gets sacked from the blind side. It’s Matayo. The clock runs out, confetti is falling from the ceiling. Alabama is running on the field celebrating in slow motion. The Hawaiian version of “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”starts playing. The camera pans back to the two Uiagalelei brothers who are both still down at the line of scrimmage. Matayo is crying, fighting back the tears is DJ, trying to comfort his little brother. I mean, cmon. Movie writes itself. 

I have a good feeling about this one. I once bought a picture of a random guy snorkeling from a Tuscaloosa thrift shop. I hung it up in my room for two years. What did I name him? Big Dave. No lie. Is it just a coincidence? Yes. But also, I don’t believe in coincidences.  

Japanese Ice Cream Company Apology Video For Nine Cent Increase

There aren’t many companies left that can claim that they run their business off good, clean morales. In fact, I reckon there was only two left. I’m sure you know which two I’m going to say. Yup, Costco Snack Stand and Steak-umms. Steak-umms obviously for their Twitter approach. Costco, obviously for their founder Jim Sengal telling the current CEO that, “If you raise the price of the fucking hot dog, I will kill you. Figure it out.” Hot dog and soda combo still $1.50, same it’s been since 1985. But a newcomer approaches, Garigari-kun.

This Japanese ice cream company recently made an apology video for raising their price from Y60 to Y70. That’s a nine cent raise. I’ve watched this video an embarrassing amount of times. Before each viewing I didn’t know whether I was going to laugh or cry this time. 

Japan does not play by the same rules. They felt this shit in their fucking souls. The damn founder, or president, or whoever that sad old man was holding his thumb before the camera panned out, made the entire company come out to face the music. Over nine cents.

I half expected the entire company to perform a seppuku right then and there. You might have seen seppukus in movies or TV. They’re the samurai suicides where the person stabs themself in the stomach and then someone immediately chops there head off with a sword. Thank God they didn’t. Because I forgive them. I forgive them so much. 

No notes app for Garigari-kun. Instead they made maybe my favorite apology video ever. The whole thing was perfect, the music, the sad faces, topped off with the elegance of the bow. Who could stay mad?

Alright to be honest I just realized this video is five years old. It doesn’t undo everything I just said but it certainly feels different now. Have you ever gotten an apology for something five years later? It’s like, yeah dude whatever, I don’t care about that anymore. But my power rankings have been updated and there’s no  turning back: 1. Costco Sanck Stand, 2. Garigari-kun, 3. Steak-umms. 

I Could Beat Up A Spear-Wielding Mark Zuckerberg

I’m aware that I’m aging myself, but I was scrolling Facebook late last night when I came across this video of Mark Zuckerberg throwing a spear. I guess some people are impressed with his javelin throwing? I’m not sure why. The only thing I could think of while watching this was “there’s no way that things touching me.” I think I could take Mark Zuckerberg 1v1 even with a two spear handicap. 

First throw was a bit outside, second one was a bullseye. But like, just dunk it next time dude? I know the video is in slow motion, but even sped up it looks like the spear would be going pretty slow. I’d probably even be able to catch it and whip it right back at him. I think it’s his form? His throwing motion looks like mine when I try to throw something left handed. There’s just nothing Mark Zuckerberg could ever do to convince me he’s an athlete. It’s too late, we’ve all already seen that sunscreen picture. 

And I know he’s reading this as I write it. 

He just has such a punchable face, and The Social Network did not do him any favors. Zuckerberg’s inevitable run for president is going to be so insufferable. I know he doesn’t need to fundraise for his campaign but how much money do you think he’d bring in if he did a pie in the face fundraiser. But instead of pie, you could noogie, wedgie, or swirly Mark Zuckerberg. 

Sure, Mark has enough money to buy my family away from me. But even with two spears, I’m confident that I could beat the shit out of him. I just know that deep down that bothers him, and that’s enough for me. 

Joel Embiid Is The Perfect 76er

Joel Embiid uses DX entrances, shirley temple jokes, and tweets at Rihanna to distract everyone from the fact that he’s 7’0”, 280 lbs. with knees like SpongeBob. The only ones he’s fooling is Sixers fans, and boy do they eat it up. 

I’m a “c word”. I was afraid to even admit that really, cause it’s such a devasting deathblow when you’re called a “casual”. Whenever I state my basketball opinion, I feel like that Jon Snow gif going against all the formals. NBA formals’ opinions are gospel, and if you disagree with them, they’ll gladly remind you how stupid you are. But you don’t exactly have to be an analyst to recognize that Sixers fans are contractually obligated to say “Embiid, when healthy” whenever they argue basketball. 

So I said the Sixers will never win anything while Embiid is doing his whole “will I, won’t I” act for his entire career. Big whoop. You would’ve thought I suggested they decapitate the Rocky statue. All I did was imply that Joel can’t stay healthy, a generally accepted fact at this point. Next thing you know, I have a Sixers fan spitting in my face, screaming about Nikola Jokic? How the fuck does that happen?

But despite his wet cardboard knees, Embiid is the perfect hero for Philly. He’s too goofy and lovable to trade and the guy puts asses in seats. And he’s good, I won’t dispute that. But the Sixers can’t get it done with a Ben and Embiid base. The best chance they had was Ben, Joel, and Jimmy Butler and they couldn’t even reach the Eastern Conference Finals.

But who cares about winning when you can constantly claim that you would have won? Embiid is the perfect built in excuse. He’s a flawed, but highly talented entertainer. Jokic wins MVP? Embiid wasn’t healthy. Hawks bounce the Sixers in the second round? Embiid wasn’t healthy. “Can you imagine if he was healthy? Who would’ve covered him on the Nets? Probably would have walked to the Finals.” And just like that, Philly UCFs an NBA Finals even though they’re about to be torched by Trae Young. 

What LeBron James Has To Do To Make Me Love Him

Not to brag but I’ve hated LeBron since before it was cool. I was ten years old during his rookie season. My best friend, who I had been regularly been going to Nets games with, had completely changed his fandom to the Cavs when Bron came to town. For Christmas my friend’s mom got him a LeBron plaque that he proudly displayed in his bedroom. It was engraved “The Next Lebron James.” Gross. Well that was all the ammo I needed, I declared war against Bron the first time I laid eyes on that plaque. 

I mean what was my friend’s problem? My best friend and I hate each other. Hate is too strong an emotion to waste on someone you don’t like. He was going to be the next LeBron James? He’s half Cuban and the other 50% Irish/Italian? He’s got a little fro and grew to a whopping 5’9”. Well if he was determined to be the next LeBron James then I was going to be the next Skip Bayless. 

For years and years I shit on LeBron. We’d wake the neighbors at house parties arguing over who and what LeBron James was to the game of basketball. I can still remember how my mouth watered when Bron scored only 8 points in Game 4 of the Finals vs. the Mavs. 

But it’s not fun anymore. I used to take on whole dorm rooms during my crusade against LeBron. Nobody likes LeBron these days. When I throw out a negative Bron stat now everyone just shrugs their shoulders at me and mumbles, “Mmm yeah, alright.” What the fuck is that? Even my best friend doesn’t defend his King anymore. I guess when he realized he was destined to be the “Next Accountant For Tinton Falls, NJ” and not “The Next LeBron James,” it stole his fire away. 

Now what? Am I thinking the impossible? Has the pendulum swung so far in my favor that I’m ready to ride it back the other way? Am I turning heel? Am I about to be..... a LeBron Stan? WWSD?

If I’m going to do this, I need some sort of commitment from LeBron. No more wishy washy nice guy routine. I want LeBron to embrace the villain. He has a player option at the end of the year, decline it. If you’re reading this LeBron... join the Warriors. God, can’t you see the headlines? Don’t you hear the cries? If LeBron James joins Steph and Klay in Golden State, I’ll buy a jersey that day. We can drink the world’s tears together like old pals. 

Okay Ladies, You Have A Legitimate Gripe With The Toilet Seat Being Up

Yanks vs. Sox, David vs. Goliath, women with full bladders vs. men who leave the toilet seat up. Some rivalries transcend generations. Having an older sister forced me into the toilet seat game at a young age. 

“How hard is it to put the seat down?!”

“How hard is it to look to see if it’s up before sitting down?!”

And round and round the merry-go-round we went. I was destined to do this dance forever. Until recently. I fell into the toilet seat yesterday. 

There’s a few determining factors that contributed to my plunge into sewage. First of all, I live in a two bedroom apartment with each room having it’s own bathroom. Because it’s my bathroom I constantly leave the seat up because I’m an adult fully capable of putting it down if I need to switch gears. Secondly, and more importantly, when you turn the light on in my bathroom the fan automatically goes on. This fan was brandished in Hell. It sounds like a constant Lloyd Christmas’ “want to hear the most annoying sound in the world?” The noise is so loud that it takes Tik Tok out of the equation when I’m in it for the long haul. Lastly, when no ones home I shit with the door open and the light off so I can scroll through videos from the comfort of my own toilet. 

Yesterday, I almost let a fart get the best of me and hurried to my bathroom. Knowing that no one was home I didn’t bother to turn the light on, but, I also didn’t bother to check if the seat was down. It was too dark, I just assumed. But it was too late. 

To say I looked terrible would be an insult to the word “terrible”. I didn’t know what hit me. My own ass betrayed me. There was no athletic way for a man of my size to get out of the toilet bowl. It was a horror movie. Have you ever been embarrassed by yourself? Nobody saw me at the bottom of a toilet seat. No one saw me at rock bottom. But I was just as ashamed as if it had been televised. 

So I’m more cautious now. Sympathy wasn’t enough, I needed empathy. I’ve pivoted to double and triple checking to make sure I put the seat down. There might be some guys upset that I’m willing to give up a little ground on this front. But you weren’t there man, you wouldn’t know.

Viva La Scram

For the upcoming comedy movie Jackass 4, we have...drama. It’s no secret that Bam Margera, normally a staple in the Jackass franchise, has been kicked off the finale for breach of contract. Speculation is that it’s due to his substance abuse issues. 

I was clinging on to hope that somehow Bam could work out his issues and still sneak in to the final cut. It’s safe to say that’s an impossibility now with Bam unable to come within 100 yards of the director, Jeff Tremaine, who recently filed a restraining order against him. Even for a cast that is comfortable with glueing pubes to each other’s faces, throwing snakes on one another, and shoving toy cars up their ass, there is a line. Bam allegedly threatening Tremaine and his children through texts is a million steps passed that line. 

“Look at your children and grab your pocket book and write a check, if you are greedy, and cheap, look at your children again. If you don’t sign the paper, look at you children. Sign your stupid fucking contract before your not safe anywhere.”

Seems like he struggles with grammar as much as he does with drugs. But holy shit man. Threatening someone’s children is upper echelon scumbag. Bam’s lucky that the only outcome from this is a restraining order. By all accounts Jeff Tremaine seems like a pretty good dude too. When Bam went to Instagram to bash Trumaine and Johnny Knoxville, Steve-O came to their defense saying that both of them organized the intervention that saved his life. Here’s the Instagram post of Bam declaring Jackass’ betrayal:

https://www.instagram.com/tv/CPO6ZUeh90P/?utm_medium=copy_link

It’s sad to see Bam reduced to your Aunt on Facebook who doesn’t understand that you shouldn’t talk about your family’s issues on a public forum. The guy clearly has problems. But it’s hard to feel sympathy for anyone who threatens kids. 

I’m not sure why I’m so surprised by his behavior. I guess it’s because he held a special place in a whole generation’s heart. But his show was based on him being an asshole, he was an asshole in the movie Grind, and he’s being even more of an asshole now. 

Article: https://thebrag.com/jackass-director-issues-restraining-order-bam-margera/

My Dad Believes In Dragons

My Dad is 63 years old and I recently found out that he struggles with separating history and legend. In perfect Dad fashion, he finally decided to “check out this Game Of Thrones thing everybody’s been talking about.”

During his watch I would pop in from time to time to stand and watch with him for about 15 minutes in silence before walking out. Flip the script. During one of the later seasons when Drogon was fully grown, an episode had finished and he looked up at me and said, “Could you imagine what it is was like to actually see one of those things.”

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?”

This wasn’t a bit, or a gag, or a dad joke. It’s very important to me that you know this. Because I know if I saw this in a viral tweet or something I would immediately call bullshit. It looks like one of those toddlers with political takes Tweets, I know that. But it wasn’t that. My father has no control over his facial expressions. I’m able to tell him what he’s thinking all the time before he even opens his mouth. It freaks him out. I know when he’s lying, he’s physically unable to lie to me. So when I tell you that I said to him, “You know they’re not animatronics, that’s it’s all CGI right?”, that he was dead serious when responding “No I mean like seeing a dragon back in the olden days.”

My Dad is not a nerd. He doesn’t believe that the government has covered up dragons in conspiracy theories. He doesn’t even know any conspiracy theories. My Dad simply thought dragons went extinct and was looking at me confused like this was common knowledge. 

I fell to the ground laughing. He cracked up laughing asking me what we were laughing at. In between my hysterics, after many minutes, I managed to squeak out, “Dragons were never real, they’re made up.” He was screaming “NO” and was trying to reason with me over my laughter. He kept yelling over me, “You’re fucking with me! You’re fucking with me! Google it! Cmon, cut it out now. Will you! Google it!”

I crawled to my phone like Anakin with no legs. Having my phone grounded me a bit. I was able to stand back up and show him proof from the History Channel website that said dragons aren’t real. I needed a source he would trust. I was back in control now and able to start joking about it. “Who did you think killed all the dragons? King Arthur?” The look of shock and realization that came across his face... Back to floor. We laughed together now though, while my father’s whole concept of history was dumped on it’s head.

But I got greedy. Him believing in dragons and King Arthur wasn’t enough for me. I wasn’t ready to pinch off this laugh. I’m not really a “quit while you’re ahead” guy. So I said “Would you like to talk about Adam and Eve?” Then his face just got sad. I didn’t laugh after that. So I said “I’m kidding about that one, of course I’m kidding about that.” We’re Irish Catholic and he clearly was not ready for this conversation. 

With my happy moment suddenly turning very sad, I left. But do you know what cured that right up once he was out of earshot? Picturing my Dad’s face when he realized that dragons never existed.