Wtf Is Going On At Netflix?

Netflix needs to chill. I don't know who's running things over there, but I'd like to ask them if they've lost their mind. I saw this movie "Love" in my recommended queue and noticed the little Top 10 picture in the corner, so I clicked on it to read the description. During my research the movie started to play in the background and just porn. Straight up porn. 

The movie starts off with a woman's back laid across a man's chest. They're both naked. She's jerking the dude off, he's fingering her. Not like, ya know, it's implied under the blanket or something, you see everything. Dick and vagina on my screen. No lie, it's the first three minutes of the movie. Check for yourself if you don't believe me. When the scene cut I was half expecting the girl to ask the guy if that was enough to cover the cost of her pizza delivery. 

This isn't the first offense for Netflix either. "365", also in the Netflix Top 10, is about a mafia boss who kidnaps a woman and has sex with her for a whole year until she falls in love with him. That's rape, this is what rape is. I admittedly haven't watched the movie but I have seen that clip on Twitter where he grabs the girl naked in the shower by the back of the neck and kisses her aggressively. If I did that I'd end up with a nosebleed, a restraining order, and probably jail time. I mean, have you ever even heard of Stockholm Syndrome? 

So why the sudden shift? Is it because they feel threatened by HBO Max? Because let's be honest, there's a whole generation of men out there that believe anything that ends in "max" means porn. Like Cinemax, need I say more? I like to imagine the higher ups in Netflix hearing the announcement of HBO's new service and saying "Fuck it, just start streaming porn." 

I just can't get over that they threw that in my face. 91% match. Ninety-fucking-one, who's doing this math? Here's my last seven things watched on Netflix: Dark, Nate Bargatze's Tennessee Kid, Bill Burr's You People Are All The Same, Avatar The Last Airbender, Daniel Sloss' Live Shows, and James Acaster's Repertoire. What the fuck about that screams 91% match. Who read that lineup and said "Make sure he watches his porn with us tonight"?

Look, I'm no prude. I'm an adult, I see naked people on a screen all the time. I'm not saying that I'm outraged and want this to be removed. But Netflix has no problem asking me "Are you still watching this?" all the time. All I'm saying is, if you're going to throw finger banging and hand jibbers on my screen, maybe preface it with a "Is your door locked?" prompt.  

From The Nosebleeds

My head has been in a weird place lately. I beat The Last Of Us II and finished watching Dark on Netflix all within the same week. It's taken a toll on my overall mood, so it's time to get back to normal. Nothing in my life is more normal, more constant, than nosebleeds. 

I'd say that I average about five nosebleeds a week. It's been that way since I was around seven years old. My Dad used to tell me it was because I picked my nose too much. While I'm sure that didn't help, I'm pretty sure I just came with a defective nose. As a grown adult my nose shouldn't still bleed this much. I've heard everything from a suspected cocaine addiction to "Maybe instead of your vagina, God put your period in your nose". I could write a Dr. Seuss book on all the places I've had a nosebleed. 

My nose has bled in a boat, while driving, while sleeping, while it was my turn to read out loud to my sixth grade class onto my textbook, during a school basketball game, during a funeral, once while surfing deep out in the ocean in Hawaii, in a bar, and mid-coitus.

My one buddy has never had a nosebleed. I even watched him break his nose once and not a drop. It's like a superpower. I have a theory that this kid hates attention so much that his blood just sucked itself back inside his brain. I on the other hand love attention, which is probably why I was dealt this kryptonite. I've been working hard to go unnoticed with my bloody noses during the virus. When people see me with a red stained clump of tissues to my nose, they look at me like I've brought the plague in the building. 

I'm just trying to spread awareness for those of us with chronic nosebleeds. I'm aware that I could have my nostrils cauterized to soften the blow. But I heard a rumor that the operation could possibly change your tastebuds. That is a price I'm not willing to pay. So I'll keep fighting the good fight with a fistful of tissues, and a nasal cavity full of coagulated blood. 

A Cancel For A Cancel Leaves The Whole World Canceled

I tweaked Gandhi's words a bit for my title which seems fitting. One of the most peaceful protestors in humanity's history, who fought for independence, women's equality, religious tolerance, and poverty as a Human Rights issue, should by all accounts be canceled today. Did you know that a 77 year old Gandhi used to sleep naked with his 18 year old niece for "purity's sake"?

Why does Gandhi so often get a pass? Is it because he was born in the 1800s? Or that he was married away by his family at the age of 13? Do his good deeds outweigh his sexual exploitations? Why does piggy Gandhi get a pass for real life actions while others are being canceled over jokes that they Tweeted years ago? It's a rapid change in social norms and a slow burn in accepting other's growth.

We now live in an instant world where we can view and debate issues even while they're still happening. We've become accustomed to immediate outrage and thus impatient with gradual growth. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing either, some things are blatantly immoral and warrant an expedited response. Which is why I can't understand how people can chant "We want change now!" and then say "We don't believe you've changed!" after digging up a four year old Tweet or video.

Jokes to me are sacred. I understand that may not be the opinion of others, but for me they help relieve the harsh realities of the world in the comfort of humor. Some people find that comfort in religion, my refuge is in comedy. To me, jokes have a way of reflecting ugliness in a light that takes the sting out of an issue. If you can laugh at something, then you can change it.

Suppressing jokes is suppressing expression is suppressing change. The best jokes are fueled by the attitudes and feelings of that point in time. If our attitudes and feelings now have a shelf life of a couple years, then yes, a lot of jokes won't age well. That doesn't make the creator a bad person, it just makes them human. Capable of development.

With everyone constantly displaying how good of a person they are on social media, we're quick to point out other's imperfections for our own scorekeeping. But we've seen it time and time again where the canceler becomes the canceled. And round and round we go.

I hope we accept that people are adjusting to being better. I hope we give them time to do so. I hope that we recognize jokes for what they are, a human attempt to make someone else laugh.

I'm sorry for my serious tone. To better explain how I feel, here's a Patrice O'Neal clip on canceling jokes to play us out....
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fjIuPSuYSOY

Yes I'm Aware Of My Farmer's Tan Stop Asking Me About It

I thought about using a different picture because this graphic is hitting a little too close to home. Fuck, this is exactly what I look like. My forearms look like the big guy from Moana, everything under the shirt looks like the ghost of winter's past. The contrast is staggering. Worst part is, I just bought these big-boy tees that make me look kinda jacked but they choke up on the biceps a bit and expose my borderline see through complexion. The amount of "Have you seen your farmer's tan?"'s that I've got is getting out of control. 

Of course I know what my tan looks like, that's why I keep pulling my sleeves down. What do you think I do, close my eyes when I go into the shower? Don't answer that. No one is more cognizant of the ridiculous looking farmer's tan than the person wearing it. "Well how did you get it?", fucking being at work like literally every single person ever who's had this tan. 

"Why don't you fix it?", this is the worst part of acknowledging the tan. We both know why I don't balance it out so stop asking it like a dick. It's because I'm fat. Do I look like I grill with my shirt off? Of course not. Day 1 of biggon school, play your strengths. 

If you ever feel the need to interrogate somebody who has a farmer's tan, here are the forever answers you're looking for. Yes I know what my skin looks like at the moment, I most likely got the tan from work, and it still looks like that because I'm overweight. Print out this cheat sheet and keep it in your wallet. Also I'm rebranding "farmer's tan" to Brawny Tawny. No further questions at this point.  

Apocalypse Prep: The Last Of Us II

A few years back I bought a PS4 strictly to play MLB The Show. To be honest it wasn't worth it and it started to bother me. So I started playing a select few one-player games to justify my purchase. Spiderman and God of War were both dope. Far Cry, meh. But my favorite game was the remastered version of The Last Of Us, a 2013 zombie game. Normally I'm not a big zombie guy, but this game was so well done that it feels like you're playing a movie. Seven longs years later, the sequel has dropped. 

A non spoiler description in one sentence. A revenge game set in a post-apocalyptic zombie America. Now I'm no video game savant, so if you're looking for an in depth review on logistics and gameplay you've come to the wrong place. What I will tell you is that this game is just as aesthetically pleasing and the storyline just as engaging as the first one. And probably more gruesome, which is saying something. Sure, Zombies are a crucial part of the game, but it's the interactions with humans that'll fuck you up. 

Let's get to the negatives, or negative I should say. I only have one problem with the game. The main protagonist in the sequel is Ellie, who was like 12 in the original. You save her little life in the first game. It's revealed that Ellie is immune and is the only reported person of her kind. Creating a cure from her blood would kill her. Whoops, spoilers*. She's all grown up now and you have to play through her sexual relationship. Now I'm a grown up, I know I had no real attachment to that little girl and that she's not even a real person, but I found myself bit uncomfortable. Put it this way, D'Elia would've loved it.   

Other than that, it's a really good game. I get sad thinking about how I'm going to beat it soon and not be able to play anymore. If you like scary movies, it's pretty spooky. I've had nine mini heart attacks from zombie ambushes. Definitely not recommended for a guy of my stature and blood pressure, but I persevere for Ellie's sake.  

I'm not rooting for the end of the world, but this game is certainly preparing me for it. My trust in humanity is at an all time low, which is exactly where it needs to be if we're heading towards Armageddon. Today while I was playing, I had to venture off with a one armed 14 year old and when she couldn't climb something I screamed at my TV, "You're going to be a FUCKING liability aren't you?!". I think that means I have what it takes for survival. 

Well that's my review. I guess you can call it a review, I've never reviewed anything before. Pretty weird to review something you haven't even finished yet. I've done this all wrong. Just play the fucking game, you won't regret it. Remember how I said it's like playing a movie? HBO picked it up to make it a show. Yes you can just wait to watch the show if you want, but it's more fun to be that snob that goes "Well in the game they did it this way...". 

Bau Out

I'm over Trevor Bauer. For the record, this had nothing to do with the argument he had with Aubrey Huff today. I was planning on writing this blog before their little squabble. Bauer likes to act like he's this morally superior superhuman because he knows big words and flies a drone. It was cool at first to see a player to act like themselves and not feel the need to hide their personality over fear of organizational backlash. Once that wore off though, I found his personality annoying. 

Like this Twitter beef today. Aubrey Huff is a moron, he needs to be punched in the face. Everybody knows that. All Bauer had to say was "Shut up Aubrey you idiot", and he would have won in a landslide. But Trevor just can't shake that Messiah complex of his. He tried using logic to fend off Aubrey Huff like a dumbass. You can't expect facts to win an argument against someone who calls you a sugar-titted cuck with low T and no rings who jerks off to analytics. Congratulations, now you lost sugar tits. Also for the record, Hubbs blogged this argument today and had little blurbs about how funny Huff's jabs were and then said Bauer won the fight which doesn't make any sense. Lot of things on the record today. 

Where Bauer lost me was the nonstop ranting about owners and the state of baseball. To be honest he wasn't necessarily wrong, but he just kept saying the same thing over and over again. Which would have been fine if it brought about change, but it didn't. And he still hasn't shut up. Trevor's just whining at this point. 

I just feel like every baseball fan feels this obligation to like Trevor Bauer. Well I don't. Fuck him. I know Trevor Bauer doesn't give a shit about what I have to say but I'd like him to know that the feeling is mutual at this point.   

Sleeping With The Enemy

I haven't been able to sleep for shit as of late. I miss sleep. I love sleep, I don't even drink coffee because I enjoy being tired. I normally take comfort in blaming my troubles on others, but with sleep, who do you have to blame but yourself? It's my brain's fault. 

It's crazy, you never expect your own brain to turn on you. I certainly didn't see it coming. I assume that the human mind is supposed to appreciate sleep, in truth I do it for him. I do everything with my brain. Tell him secrets, read him books, do puzzles sometimes, like what more can it ask for? I even try taking matters into my own hands if you catch my drift, never works. 3:30-4:00am every night. This is the thanks I get. 

I was woken up this morning at 7:30 from a fucking hammer in my kitchen. I went to bed somewhere around 4:00am. I double-timed down the stairs half expecting a fight and saw a man I've never seen before. He was installing a new back door to my house. Sometimes you know before someone even speaks that they smoke a lot of cigarettes, that's what this guy looked like. He said "Oh! You must be little TKJ, your dad just went out for coffee. If you text him now he might still be able to get you one. By the way, happy belated birthday". I don't drink coffee and my birthday was two months ago, who does this? But I said fuck it, let him murder us, maybe then I can finally get some sleep. I went back upstairs and couldn't fall back asleep. 

On my 3.5 hours of rest, I thought I'd snooze like a baby tonight. I don't even see sleepiness on the horizon. 

I have a theory about sleep. I'm tired all day. When I yawn in the middle of a conversation, it's not that I'm being rude. It's just when you're day tired, it's because you're normally at work. Which is normally not fun. When I'm home by myself, I'm a lot of fun. So if you're sleep deprived, that means you're literally too much fun to be unconscious.   

Welcome To Scottish Twitter

We're all aware that there is different types of Twitter. Black twitter has been king for quite some time and they're on an absolute heater right now with this Beethoven thing. White Twitter is lame, my Spanish stinks so Latino Twitter is out, and Asian Twitter is just K-Pop and I really don't understand what that is. My people, the Scottish, are making a push for the Twitter crown. Before you say it, yes, it is different from White Twitter because it just is. 

Full disclosure my mom was born in Scotland so I may be biased on the humor. Due to my heritage, I'm fully fluent in Scottish. By fluent I mean I can understand them when they speak English WITHOUT subtitles. That, and I can decipher their butchering of the language in written form. For example:

Translation: "Just seen a woman yelling at her child to put his pants on then pointed to me and said 'look that man is going to steal your penis' What the fuck no I'm not."

Or their killer insults.

Translation: "My mom yelled at us for 'using to much toilet paper' well I'll just leave my ass caked in shit to save you an extra $1.87 you fucking weapon." 

Who even thinks of calling someone a weapon? If you're like me and can easily convince yourself of your superior intelligence by interpreting these Tweets on your own, then here's a couple of favorites to try out. 

This was an introduction course. The videos are probably even funnier, but most of them don't have subtitles. So practice your Scottish Tweets and next time we'll try videos. 

RIP Ding Dong Ditch

I saw this picture making it's rounds on Twitter and like what the fuck. I mean, if you called this "Knick Knock" or "Knock Door Run" then go take a shit in your hand. It's Ding Dong Ditch you imbeciles. While reminiscing of cool summer nights of causing havoc on my block I made a depressing realization. DDD isn't just over for my friends and I, but also for generations to come. Death by that damned Ring Doorbell. 

If you were rascals like my gang was, you know that DDD is played by aggressively ringing someone's doorbell and running like hell so you don't get caught. If you didn't know how to play, I don't know maybe you're Mormon or something. The rush of running through random people's front yards, while looking back to see if that door you just harassed is opening, was the closest we got to being high without doing anything illegal yet. But after we conquered our neighborhood, we might've taken things too far. 

Doorbells simply weren't satisfying our fix anymore. During a flee, my one friend threw another friend into a garage and that's how we accidentally discovered how loud they were. We were banging on garage doors for weeks until people started reporting the sound of gunshots. When the cops came and asked us if we had heard anything, we quit garages cold turkey. 

But then, Benchwarmers came out. In the movie, they were playing Ding Dong Ditch and hid in the bushes near the front porch. High stakes. I've always been big-boned, so I was the kid who waited at the sidewalk to get a head start. I hid in someone's bushes once. Scariest moment of my life. I rang and tried my damnedest to camouflage myself in the shrubbery. When the old man came out, I could hear the hate in his breathing. I buried my face in the wet mulch. He screamed something, but I couldn't hear him over the voice in my head. I thought I was dead. I laid there for twenty minutes after he went inside to play it safe. Then I ran the fastest I've ever ran to this day. 

Yes, we also did the Billy Madison shit bag. We got caught by the cops our first go around and never did it again. 

I miss getting in menial trouble. Getting in trouble is scary now. But when you were a kid, pushing that envelope was a hobby. No more, not with everyone recording their doorsteps. Ugh could you imagine the Facebook post to the community page if they caught kids playing this today? They'd treat them as terrorists. It's fucked up really, we're robbing these kids. If you get Ding Dong Ditched, don't narc them out. Play along, be a kid, chase after them knowing you don't want to catch them. Unless you have a sleeping baby or something then fuck them kids. 

I Think I Have To Fight My Neighbor

I got new neighbors about two years ago. They weren't bad for the most part. Drank a little late in the summertime with the music bumping, but that didn't bother me. Even considered joining them, but they kept to themselves for the most part so I let them be. They were cool enough. Enter my neighbor's 35 year old step son. 

This guy is the epitome of a douche, he just moved in a few months back. He revs his shitty corvette and flies around the cul-de-sac with kids playing in the street. He washes his car shirtless like three times a week. Everyone hates him. As much as he loves his car, his absolute favorite thing in the whole entire world is fireworks. As an adult, I hate fireworks. It drives my dogs crazy. 

My Pit Bull can take it, but every time someone starts lighting off I think my 12 year old Lab is going to die. He pants himself into this doggy panic attack thing to the point where he can barely breath. If this guy kills my dog... I'm not even going to finish the sentence. 

I've had other neighbors set off fireworks. Fourth of July, Memorial Day, occasional graduation party, whatever. I've never complained, never called the cops. But this jackass has no rhyme or reason to setting off fireworks. I mean, he did them tonight on a random Wednesday in June. I can see into his backyard, they aren't even having a party. I think he's setting them off by himself. This guy might just be looking for confrontation, I'm more than willing to deliver. 

My first attempt at deescalation is going to try and explain things to him. Tell this ManChild that other neighbors have expressed their displeasure at his random illegal fireworks. Oh yes sir, they are illegal, no aerial fireworks are permitted in the state of New Jersey. In fact, there was just a big fire yesterday one town over from an illegal firework. I'll even appeal to him as a dog owner and explain the situation with my pups. If he does not heed my warning, game on. 

My second attempt will not be pleasant. If he sees me coming again, he'll be ready. Probably take his phone out and try to make me go viral for being the guy who complains about fireworks. I'm not going to let that happen. I'm just going to run in and fight him. No explanation, he knows what he did. He has nothing to fight for, he just moved back in with his parents. I'm fighting for my dog's life, I won't lose. I hope it doesn't come to this. But bonus points if I bounce his head off the corvette. 

I Couldn't Agree Less With This Viral Tweet

Should I have said "Couldn't Disagree More" in the title? Doesn't matter now, this tweet is very mean. My level of criticism has nothing to do with cup size. I think we need to be more encouraging as a society. Keep going Humble Girl, you're doing great. 

I listened to the performance many times, to get a good feel for the acoustics of course. I actually think people are being too harsh on account of her big boobs. Twitter has a way of leveling things out. Maybe people are overcompensating with insults to offset the amount of compliments Humble Girl is used to receiving. I'm just going to say it, she's not a bad singer. 

I don't think she can make a career out it, but she is probably in her local choir. And they don't just let anybody in those things, trust me I've tried. Humble Girl has an impressive range of notes. I think she just needs a few pointers. Like just because you can hit different notes doesn't mean you have to change pitch every other line. So she's not an entertainer, big whoop. 

All in all, C+ car recital. She definitely butchered the song but it wasn't because of her voice. It was her over confidence and lack of self awareness that did her in. Oh and she needs to fix the whole "Gase Eyes" thing she has going on. Definitely some potential if she posts new videos with better songs choices. So everyone ease up on Humble Girl, she's giving it her chest, I mean best. 

I Gained A Year Of My Life Back

I've been going by the wrong age for about a month now. I even put it in a blog how I was 28. I'm not 28. Pretty concerning knowing that Alzheimer's tends to be hereditary. Looks like Grandpa might have handed down more than his hairline. I found out over the weekend that I'm actually 27 while at my friends birthday party. Here's how the conversation went. 

"Damn, 29 huh. One year away from the big three oh."

"I'm 28 idiot. I'm only one year older than you."

"Exactly, I'm 28 so you're 29."

"You're 27 moron."

"Oh."

I'm excited for 27. I think 27 is still mid twenties, where a week ago I was in my late twenties. So I feel young again. A lot younger than my brief stint of being 28. Only problem is now I've opened myself up to join the 27 club. 

Joplin, Hendrix, Cobain, Morrison, Winehouse. TKJ? Seems like it fits. The more I think about it my health has started a shockingly rapid decline since my last birthday. Sometimes I wake up gasping for breath like an invisible hand had been blocking my airways. Was my sudden wake the result of catching God redhanded trying to rob humanity of another great? Could be. That or its the overwhelming amount of take-out I order while being a borderline alcoholic with a bad smoking habit. Either way, head on a swivel. 

Genius Move By The MLB Owners To Use Carrabis As Their Puppet

Baseball is in shambles right now. Players are openly criticizing their organizations, fans are denouncing their fandom. MLB Twitter had become shame shower for the owners. Every where you looked the owners were being called out on their greed, their inability to fairly compromise, and lining their pockets with money instead of their stadiums with new fans. Somewhere in their evil lair, they decided to take control of the conversations being had. Who has the ear of our young MLB fans? Who has the most positive interactions with our players? Who is stupid enough to let us blindly control him? Little Jared Carrabis. 

And he played right into their hand. The MLB has sent everyone on a wild goose chase over this sealed Yankee letter. A goose chase led by the most influential reporter in baseball media. Over a letter, mind you, that was the main contributing evidence in having the Yankees acquitted by a judge. But what's the use of innocence if you can convince the public that the accused is guilty. This Yankee letter has taken over the airways and distracted us from the real matter at hand. That the owners have completely botched the 2020 season. 

So congratulations to Carrabis. The owners knew that your biased obsession with the Yankees would divert your attention, and thus the attention of MLB fans by proxy. You have failed your beloved players in favor of gossip and slander. They dangled such a juicy carrot that you never saw the stick.  

I'm Going To Miss My Speakeasy Haircuts

Sorry for the late post, I just got off of work at 11:00. PM, of course. It's not a big deal, I just stayed late because I'm a good employee. Right, so, haircuts. This pandemic has turned some of us into 1920's bootleggers. None more so than barbers. Jersey is lifting their ban on haircuts soon and truth is I'm going to miss my Covid cuts. 

I reached a point during lockdown where I looked like I was out enjoying Rumspringa. That's when I decided to text my barber and ask him if he's doing underground cuts. He responded, "Welcome", like I had just passed a test to join some secret cult. He gave me a date and time and told me to use the "side door". Which seemed really cool at first until I realized his side door was just right next to his driveway. 

I knocked on the door and his elderly mother answered. She just stood there and stared. At first I checked the house number fearing I went to the wrong place. I asked if her son was home and her eyes just kept burning a hole in through the back of my skull. I began to panic, thinking back to my conversation, was there some sort of password I was supposed to say? Before I was able to start guessing ridiculous passwords, thank God, my barber came to the door and said "What're you doing weirdo?" to his mom. She busted out laughing and I joined. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous for my barber to break out the straight blade. 

Besides the entrance, the rest of the haircut was pretty dope. It was weird seeing him conduct business in his home, like seeing a teacher bartending in the summer. I was offered and accepted a beer. We watched TV while he cut my hair. The whole house reeked of weed but I was grateful he stuck to cigarettes while cutting me. We bullshited as barbers often do, and then he transformed me into a new man. I paid in cash, leaving no trail. The only part I fucked up is asking him if we dap up after the cut. Of course he accepts daps. This man is a renegade, embarrassing question. 

Now Governor Murphy has taken all that away from me. I asked my barber if he could still cut me at his house after this is all over and he told me he'd drop me as a client if I asked him that again. 

When Can I Stop Buying Father's Day Gifts

Father's Day might be this weekend or the next. I honestly have no idea. All I know is I have to underwhelm my father yet again with another shitty gift. My dad's birthday and Father's Day are a few weeks apart and he's really tough to buy for. I pride myself on gift giving so this time of year always pisses me off. Because his gift is way more about me than it is him. So when can I stop tormenting myself like this? When can I stop buying my dad Father's Day gifts? 

I ask this question as a son, of course, because I think you always buy for your parent of the opposite sex. I'll never stop getting my mom gifts. But I have no point of reference in my family for son/dad gift giving. My mom's dad had three girls so, no luck there. And my dad's dad died when he was fourteen, so thanks a lot. Is it when you become a father yourself that you stop buying your own dad a gift? Honestly that might be worth the price of admission at this point. 

My go to is normally a Yankee game. Fuck me right. For his birthday this year I got him an air fryer because he's been getting really into cooking during the pandemic. He loved it. Here we are a few short weeks later and I realized ahhhh shit I have to do that again. Problem is, I really blew my load too early on that first gift. Ew, sorry Dad. 

I'm down to two options. Get him a gift card like an asshole and have him look at me as a shitty son. OR I don't get him anything and wait until he says something so I can say "You're a bit old for presents, don't you think?" and hope he respects me as a man. 

.....Yeah yeah yeah, I reread what I wrote. I'll get him the damn gift card. 

UCF Catches Ricochet Shot From Former Bama RB

Sorry the picture is ginormous, it was too blurry literally one size down. Anyway, whenever the conversation comes up about choosing a college to attend I always try to encourage the younger folk to pick a big school. More specifically, a big sports program. Going to Alabama was awesome because someone who was in your Stats class one year could be on your fantasy team the next. Becoming an alumni of a big school keeps you invested after you graduate. Once in awhile you stumble upon gold like this that brings you right back to campus. 

Damien Harris, current Patriots running back, confirmed this story on his own Twitter. 2017 was such a fun time to pick on UCF. I wanna give UCF a playful noogie, most Alabama fans treated their claim as "cute". It was like when your mom used to force you to let your little sibling play and everyone shouted "DC!" before their at-bat. You let them hit an inside the parker to feel good about themselves and then have them fuck off. Much like claiming you're superior to an Alabama team who beat Clemson 24-6 and then Georgia with their backup QB because your squad beat Memphis and USF. Roll Tide.

Go to a mammoth school. Get out of your little corner of the world while you still can. Years later you'll still bother people for talking about it but they can all eat shit. 

How I Stack Up Against Abella Danger

If you had told me a year ago that I'd be lobbying for the same job as Abella Danger I'd be wildly confused. It's a doggy dog world out here for those of us who are competing for Barstool's attention. So how do I stack up against Miss Danger? 

Self-Marketing

In terms of being able to market ourselves to the masses on the internet, Abella has all the visual attributes that females could only dream of. I may have bigger boobies than her, but that's the only box I'd be able to check off. As far as Twitter followers go, Abella has 1.4 Million to my 1 follower. My only follower is Tony Allen, former shooting guard for the Celtics and Grizzlies. So I'd argue quality over quantity, but whatever. Point- Abella 

Education

Abella started working right out of high school. Bit of the traditional route, if you would. However, instead of starting my career at 18, I decided to further my education by graduating from The University of Alabama. There is no way Abella is proficient in Microsoft Excel. Point- TKJ

Life Experience

I do have the argument that I'm almost four years older than Abella and thus have technically have been alive more. But there's no denying that she's lived more life. I mean partying on that boat with Roquan Smith probably beats most of my stories combined. Although I did go to New Orleans on Halloween during college. Point- Abella 

Work Experience

As far as I can find, Abella has only had one job. Come on dude, get out there and contribute to society. I however, have lived many lives in the work force. I've been a bartender at a tiki bar, a backstage security guard at PNC Arts Center, a truck driver in Newark, a bouncer at a Tuscaloosa night club, and a Class II Police Officer. Point- TKJ 

Accolades

Abella has won Best New Starlet, Hottest Newcomer, Best Scene (x2), Best Butt, and Best Double Penetration. Pretty impressive, I admit. But in the eighth grade I won Most Funny in my yearbook. I didn't stop there either. In high school I campaigned for Most Musical because I thought it would be funny since I couldn't sing, couldn't play an instrument, and was never in a school play. I won in a landslide. But all I had to show for it was another after school detention when the actual musical kid complained to the administration about my stolen valor. I did feel bad, I hadn't considered that. Ughh Point- Abella. 

Blogs Written

I don't know if you've heard, Abella, but Barstool is first and foremost a blogging site. I have never seen Abella write a single blog. Not one. I on the other hand, have written 96 blogs since March while working minimum 40 hours a week in a full out pandemic. Sorry Abella, Point- TKJ

Video Making

Abella has 938 scenes credited scenes according to the IAFD website, according to Wikipedia. I've seen her work, there is no doubt she's talented. I'm no spring chicken either though. I created an Alabama hype video that was posted to the Barstool Bama Twitter that received a whopping 142 Retweets and 558 Likes. The video was then posted to Clint Lamb's account, editor of RollTideWire with USA Today, who said "This is the most hyped Alabama video I've seen in awhile *flame emoji*". My video gained another 217 Retweets and 649 Likes under his account. Pretty spectacular if you ask me. Point- DRAW 

Let's tally up the final score here, looks like TKJ vs. Abella Danger ends in 3-3-1 Tie. Wow, lucky Barstool. Looks like they're just going to have to hire the both of us. 

....Please. 

My Mom's Name Is Karen And I Don't Think She Knows

Parents want to protect their children from the world. Children want to protect their parents from the internet. My mom's name is Karen and she has no idea what's become of it. My mom is freakishly smart. Like was a very successful woman despite being in a male dominated field. Promotions all the time, winning trips for her sales team, annual awards, you name it. She's smart, but 90% of jokes go right over her head. I have no idea how I'm going to explain this to her. 

It doesn't help that my brother and I can basically communicate telepathically. We'll burst out laughing at something we find funny, which is normally something that she said. Sometimes my mom will just commandeer the laugh and join us. When we ask her what she's laughing at, she says "I don't know, I just like laughing". My mom's a fucking saint, she really is. 

My mom has a strangely dark complexion for someone who was born in Scotland. Like all year around. So she isn't glaringly white like most Karens you find on the internet. Plus she doesn't have a racist bone in her body, which I feel like the narrative is swinging towards recently. But that isn't to say she isn't without an occasional Karen tendency. 

One time when we were kids, the Wendy's drive thru decided that they were going to charge us fifty cents per extra sauce we requested. When my mom argued that we've never had to pay that fee, the emo kid at the counter said that was the policy and if we didn't want to pay it we had to leave. Then he closed the window in her face. My siblings and I giggled cause we knew this kid had no idea how bad he just fucked up. My mom started knocking on the window which scared the absolute piss out of emo boy. I thought he was going to hiss at her. I don't want to play into stereotypes, but she kept it up until she got the manager. We got our extra sauces for free. 

That happens though, right? Just a little customer service. That isn't who she normally is. My mom is the woman who befriended the old lady who went to church alone and then got suckered into taking said lady to her doctor's appointments, grocery shopping, and any other errand the old hag could swindle out of her. My mom starts dancing if you sing a song stuck in your head around her. When you stop because she's embarrassing you, she says "Oh no why'd you stop? You have such a beautiful singing voice". My mom, despite my passionate warnings, gives rides to the guy in our town who I'm pretty sure is an Eastern-European slave. I assume his house is pretty mean to him because they make him walk to the grocery store and carry all the bags home, raining or not. I know it's nice but the man doesn't speak and I'm pretty sure he's going to murder her one day. My mom's only comebacks include "sticks and stones" and "I know you are but what am I".  My mom watches the Americans with my brother and I. She cries when the main characters, who are fucking spies, kill a random security guard. That's my mom. 

What I'm trying to say is, I know there's bad Karens out there and I 100% condemn their actions, but not all Karens are bad. And please please please, for the love of God, nobody tell her. 

Wawa Escapades

I went to Wawa for a grilled cheese for lunch. Sourdough bread, cheddar, provolone, bacon, and hit the 'special order' button to request jalapeños. So money. While I was waiting for my sandwich to be made I leaned up against the counter. I'm overweight and lazy (See:bacon on grilled cheese^^), so 

I subconsciously rested on the surface nearest to me. Well, a fellow customer did not like that very much. With her face pinched, she pointed to my back and said "Do you mind not leaning on that, other people need to shop here too". Here's what I wanted to explain to her. 

When I entered the establishment I didn't need to go far. The sticker on the ground telling me to "wait here" for the sandwich line was right next to the entrance. So yes, I was six feet away from the idiots who took eight minutes to order two hoagies. However, while I waited I was inches from every single customer who entered or exited the store. 

Once it was my turn to order, my fingers were all over the touchscreen pad. Why? Because that's the only way too order. I knew the risk for my grilled cheese. When I left the hoagie assembly line to get my drink I walked past a kid who picked up some Nacho Cheese Doritos. Before leaving the isle he must've had a moment of clarity and put them back for some Cool Ranch. Can't blame him. Then I grabbed my Arizona that was most likely stocked by hand without gloves and was rung up at the counter. 

The cashier touched every thing I wanted to purchase so he could scan the bar code. The sign on the glass divider says "There's A Smile Behind My Mask" but I could see how dead his eyes were. When it was time to pay I touched the key pad to enter my pin for my debit card. That's how I got to this leaning predicament you find me in.   

We're all touching shit. I didn't realize that my back was up against the side of the counter. The counter, mind you, with the cash register that hasn't even been an open lane for at least a year. How'd you even get in here anyway? You aren't wearing any gloves and I know the entrance has a pull handle on it. All I wanted was a God damn grilled cheese, is that too much to ask? Was it that big of a fucking deal that you had to call me out in front of all my Wawa friends?

That's what I wanted to explain. But all I said was, "Oh! Of course, I'm so sorry, I didn't even realize!" 

The Next Generation Of Weddings

Weddings are a wonderful time to catch up with family, enjoy a dance floor under the influence, and remember what it's like to have the prospect of love. Unless you're me, who thinks it's a good idea to call the best man an asshole for making the whole speech about himself. My poor cousin, she didn't deserve that on her special night. I regret getting into a drunken roast-off with her new husband's brother, but he 100% deserved it. Open bars are undefeated. 

I'm sure the dance floor for a lot of you is an uncomfortable place to enjoy yourself. Not me, I can cut a rug. I've noticed in the last decade or so that someone made it a rule that it's offensive not to join the dance floor at a wedding. Doesn't seem fair to the awkward people. So it rests on the shoulders of the ladies. They come out in oldest to youngest order to answer the call. 

I don't know when the women decided to perform this wedding ritual, but it's an affective spell to conjure souls to dance. Each age group of ladies in attendance have their queue of songs where they must hit the dance floor to show out for their generation. First is the aunts who start us off with either Come On Eileen or Build Me Up Buttercup. Followed by the age group right above mine who join with either Baby Got Back or anything Backstreet Boys. My own generation announces themselves to a Beyonce war cry or I Gotta Feeling by Black Eyed Peas, whatever plays first. 

You know the scene. Everyone surrounding the bride, screeching, dancing, and unnecessarily pointing at nothing. Everyone's smile is wider than humanly possible while the bride shows off her ring and screams "HE PUT A RING ON IT!" over the "All the single ladies" song. That's how you know the night has kicked off, when everyone dances with the bride. So how will it look with for next generation? 

It's going to be a Tik Tok fest. A Charli D'Amelio impersonation contest. It's going to be hilarious to watch. You thought Gam Gam couldn't handle Sir Mix-A-Lot? Wait til her little angel dressed in all white shows up licking her palm screaming "CAN'T TAKE BIG DICK BUT I SUCK ON IT".  It will make for pure unintentional comedy. 

I owe the generations prior to my own an apology. For a brief second I understood why you constantly shit on us. It seems like so much fun. I'm picturing the Gen Z'ers doing their silly Tik Toks in dresses and tuxedos and getting giddy at the mere thought of jokes I haven't even made yet.  

Giving Up Slowly Is Better Than Giving Up Completely

Giving things 100% has never really been my strong suit. For the past year I've been just donating $15 a month to my gym. My health has been the biggest casualty to my half-assed lifestyle. I live in the mindset of, hey I did something healthy before so now I can do whatever unhealthy thing is in front of me. Is that good a way to live? Probably not, but at least I haven't given up completely. 

I went for a walk the other day because apparently 28 is the new 40. I've been telling myself for awhile that I'm going to start running again. Problem was, every time I imagined running, I convinced myself to do something more fun. Running sucks. Worst invention of all time. So I said fuck it, and went for a walk. 

Walks are surprisingly not that bad. I felt a bit like a divorcee looking to get herself back out there though. Luckily I was able to hide myself on the Henry Hudson trail. I listened to a podcast without my headphones falling out. I wore sunglasses that didn't bounce around. I carried a water bottle without it feeling like I was shaking up a margarita. Then I walked almost ten miles and laughed at the podcast I was playing. All while getting side-eyed glances from the actual divorcees. 

Plus I saw Christie from the last season of Big Brother on the trail. I love Big Brother. There's no more story to it, I didn't say hi or anything. This really doesn't add to my point at all, it's just a random fact that I figured I'd share. 

There was a time when I was running close to five miles a day. So yeah, it was a bit disheartening when I got back to my house and my knees hurt. The only thing that matters is that you've convinced yourself you did something healthy. A technique which I have mastered. This stroll will clean my conscience for at least a couple of days. Was it counter-productive to eat a burger and fries after my walk? Absolutely. But it's better than eating a burger without walking at all. Right?

How Do You Move Out?

How do you move out of your parent's house after college? It's been four years and I'm still living in my childhood bedroom. I've done a whole college after college. My stock has plateau'd since receiving my degree. I'm getting spit-roasted by my student loans, over half of my monthly income goes into paying that. You add my phone bill, car insurance, health insurance, and I barely have enough to cover my drinking problem. How do you afford rent? 

Player posters, high school art projects, fake street signs named after sports teams, and eighteen hats held up by thumb tacks line my walls. Oh and a framed Rolling Stone cover with Jessica Simpson on it that I won on the boardwalk. I mean close the fucking yearbook, pal. The worst part is, I'm 6'2" pushing three bills and sleeping in the the same twin bed I've had since I was ten. I literally fought with myself over omitting that truth from this blog. I'm so embarrassed by my bed, that I considered lying about it to a blog that nobody reads. My hand is on the damn floor when I'm sleeping. 

It gets worse. My first girlfriend, who I haven't spoken to in like six years hit me up about a week ago. I've never slept with her. We were 17 when we were dating and I didn't have the charisma to convince her to have sex with me. I still don't.  For whatever reason she's decided to see what we were missing out on from almost 10 years ago. Don't ask me how or why, I have no idea. My ex, my first teenage love, told me she wants to drive from PA to see what I'm working with. Can you comprehend that kind of pressure? 

I don't know what to do. The only thing that's changed since the last time she's been to my house is that my Mom doesn't live here anymore. Quite frankly, bit of a downgrade.... should've been you Dad. Actually, should've been me? Anyway, the first girl that I thought I could have sex with has now given me the green light a decade later. She's driving two hours to get here and the best I have to offer is my twin bed. Not to mention, as if my love-making isn't anti-climatic enough (pun intended), I doubt having the Core Four watching you fuck from your wall is very provocative. Stop looking at me like that Jeter. 

So if anyone has any ideas on how to move out of your house in two weeks, I welcome any and all advice. Don't say the answer is getting a higher paying job. F off, obviously I would if I could.  

My First Blog I Ever Wrote (For The Bama Viceroy Program)

Wine Wednesday And The Race For Pink Moscato

Ahhhh Gallettes, the armpit of the strip. I don't know how you do it, you bastard, but you've found a way to become the guilty pleasure of a campus. Seven times out of ten going to the bathroom you will either a) witness someone throwing up, or b) walk into a stall with throw up staring you in the face from the bowl. But you know what? It works. Gimme it all. Give me a five dollar bottle of wine even if you ran out of the best flavor in the first forty minutes. Give me the puke bathrooms, the clouds of cigarette smoke, and the sticky floor. Cause you know what? The second those floodgates open, and the drunken mass of people rush to that back room, Gallettes has already won. At that point I've already gone back on my promise to go to class in the morning and shut my first alarm off. The girl from my lab has been rubbing up on me and I'm in the middle of the dance floor swigging out of a bottle of Pinot Grigio. Gallettes: Undisputed Champion of Wednesday.

TBT To The Viceroy Blog I Wrote For Barstool Bama

Santa, Easter Bunny, and Syllabus Week. What do they all have in common? None of them are real. Syllabus Week is dead. Its a lost art form. If I have one more professor chuckle trying to be buddy buddy with the class saying "at least I'll let you out early today" and then not let me out early, I'm gonna lose my shit.  I'm in college so believe it or not,  I can read, just give me my syllabus, so I can never read it anyway and then lets all go on our merry way.

Stop making me jump through hoops with your "introduce yourself to the class" exercise so I can go eat the breakfast I skipped. Which a little FYI if I was ever in your class, I ALWAYS lied during the introduce yourself game. I'll say I'm a foreign exchange student from China when I'm a big white dude with a beard. What're you gonna do, tell me thats not who I am? You don't know me. I think everyone should lie in those games from here on out. How many times can we hear the same answer of "I have a job, I'm a junior, and I like football." until we get fed up?

Then theres the whole seat issue. When you have to figure out where your unofficially official seat will be for the rest of the semester. If someone takes my seat, it's musical chairs warfare until you stop trying two weeks in and give me my rightful throne I picked on the first day. Third row, two rows from the right: far enough to use my phone, close enough to go under the radar. But if I wanna change my seat, which I do for my Wednesday 10:00 am class, tough shit pal seats aren't assigned. Plus the kid in front of me is so polite that I can't tell if he's genuine or actually being a sarcastic shithead. I am not about to play mind games with him for the next 16 weeks.




Simpler times, 2015. If I ever get a time machine, I’m going to go back and slap myself for bitching about syllabus week in college. I mean look at this idiot, crying about a seating chart. Wait five more years pal and you’ll be dead broke from student loans in the middle of a pandemic, wondering if you’re going to have work a riot tonight. GTFO with your “unofficially official” seating.

Have We Considered Aliens?

Maybe my favorite line in literature is the opening to Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy when Douglas Adams writes, "In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.". It's cheeky lines like this that makes me love reading the Adams, Prachetts, and Vonneguts of the world. They have a simple way of depicting our massive man-made boundaries as small and insignificant. If you compare our ridiculous notions of identity to a scale as large as say, the Universe, then Earth only has one people, one race- humanity. 

In science fiction there's this idea that we're being watched by civilized alien races, to see if we are evolved enough as a species to join their Intergalactic UN. I can't think of any specific examples but just fucking trust me, it's there. Guardians of the Galaxy maybe? I don't know but aliens have to be watching us, otherwise what the heck is going on at Area 51. I need to live to the point where we join a cool alien galaxy. 

They may even be secretly keeping us from extinction to see if we qualify as a functioning member of the galaxy. Like in the opening scene for Star Trek: Into The Darkness. While being chased by the indigenous life on an unknown plant, Spock says to Captain Kirk "The Prime Directive clearly states there can be no interference with the internal development of alien civilizations.".  That's us. We need to hurry the fuck up and develop. 

Under the microscope of a superior civilization looking down, Earth has been graded a big fat F for 2020. America in particular. I don't know if you remember, but we bombed somebody this year. Couple acts of war with failing to cooperate in a global pandemic and racial injustices to the point of riots, and you got yourself a report card that will not be going on the refrigerator. We have proven that we're so far incapable of being a model species. At this rate, I'll never meet an alien. 

Of course the alternative is that the aliens attack. Would that work? Could a common enemy unite us? Would you turn your back on your fellow Earthling based off the color of their skin if we were being hunted by aliens with no skin? Ya know like, exoskeletons and stuff. There's a saying that there's no atheists in foxholes, I imagine there's no racists in an alien invasion.

I don't mean to minimize real-life issues with my fantasies of an expanded universe. I just wanted to take a step back, like a giant off-the-planet step, and get an outside the atmosphere perspective. I have to tell you, my findings are silly. We're all one people who have varied pigments based off the skin evolving to adapt to the geographical climate that your original tribe accidentally migrated to. If you treat someone differently because of that, you're an asshole. 

So if you have no God, or moral conscience, or anything else that's supposed to make you act like a better human, I beg you to consider the aliens. They're watching, and maybe if we behave they'll take us to new worlds full of wonder. I know that's what we all want, I saw that fucking Milonakis tweet.