SWAT…

One who is familiar with this blog, would also know I may have a slight obsession with How I Met Your Mother. A tv show that is basically a love story in reverse. The father is telling the story of how he met his mother to his young kids all the while retelling stories from his youth about all the hi-jinx him and his friends would get into.

Well one of my favorites is non other than Barney Stinson. A one man wrecking crew as it comes to single (sometimes) ladies of New York City. Well, Mr. Stinson has quite the obsession with Laser Tag, and in a recent episode, was attempting to go to the finals of the Laser Tag championship. In taking on this quest, he asked his so called “best friends” Ted and Marshall to join, but seeing as how their awesomeness extends only to Wife-ing hot girls, and rocking a tweed sport coat like nobody’s business, they could not participate.

So Barney took to his blog to recruit some able bodied men… (and possibly some women, based on photos of themselves in a Princess Leia bikini.) I was one to take up this cause and take Barney’s team to the Championship and bring it home. For me. For Barney. And for the United States of America.

Without further ado… this is my application to join S.W.A.T. Stinsons Way Awesome Team.

I think i’m a shoe in.

Application to Stinson’s Way Awesome Team (SWAT)

Name: Withheld to protect the innocent.

Alias: Rocky, Rock, DoubleDown

Age: 30- Awesome

Weight and Height: 200 lbs. 5 foot 10

How many somersaults can you do in a row? Roughly 83

How many times have you watched “Die Hard”? Today? Like 3 times

Favorite Quote? Good morning. In less than an hour, aircraft from here will join others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind. “Mankind.” That word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can’t be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interests. Perhaps it’s fate that today is the Fourth of July, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom… Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution… but from annihilation. We are fighting for our right to live. To exist. And should we win the day, the Fourth of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day the world declared in one voice: “We will not go quietly into the night!” We will not vanish without a fight! We’re going to live on! We’re going to survive! Today we celebrate our Independence Day!

What’s your wing span? Long enough to hold a laser tag gun.

Do you own your own laser tag equipment? If so, what make and model? (Professional grade only, please) Scorpion Sub Machine Gun. Also, the model in the photo is wicked hot. http://www.battlefieldsports.com/submachinegun.htm

What martial art do you specialize in? I am actually not able to say. However, I shall let you know I am in a secret brotherhood sworn to protect our political heads, allies, and Harrison Ford.

How many years did you spend training on top of a mountain with a bushy-eybrowed old man? It took me 2 years to overcome the old man.

Did you eventually become the master? See above.

What’s your visual acuity? My visual acuity is so good, 99% of people cannot read the next few words….

Has your vision been enhanced by any sort of super-secret government nanotechnology? Also please see above about secret brotherhood. But yes.

Do you own a black turtleneck? indeed.

Does your family have a history of heart disease? (My lawyer says I have to ask this one) if by having a superhuman nanotechnoligically updated heart is a disease, then yes.

Did you grow up in a survivalist community or third world country where every day was a battle to survive? Indeed. I once killed a man just to watch him die. That and he wanted to kill me first.

If yes, did you use lasers to survive? Indubitably

What’s your favorite Mel Brooks movie? Spaceballs. The Movie.

If you answered anything other than “Spaceballs,” you can stop right here, because there’s no way you can be my partner.

Have you served in the military? Again, I am not liberty to divulge such information.

Was it one of the secret branches that you’re not supposed to talk about? No?

Did you use lasers? Super awesome ones, totally.

Can you incapacitate someone using only your pinky? Not everyone can?!? That’s shocking. I did not know that.

Would you have any moral objection to using your skills on a particularly annoying 14-year-old who’s walked away with the trophy three years running? One would say, if it’s been 3 years running, it’s about time he get knocked off his high horse…

How many corn dogs can you eat in a row? Mini : 25 Regular size: 13

NOTE: If you have boobs, tear up the application and just send a picture of yourself in Princess Leia’s gold bikini costume from “Return of the Jedi.”

I, the undersigned, residing in the county of Washington, state of Oregon, do hereby declare my intent to practice, train and participate in all laser tag related activities set forth by Barney Stinson and the Stinson’s Way Awesome Team (SWAT). I accept that submission of the above application represents my consent to participate in a Battle Royale and/or Capture the Flag to determine the most qualified applicant. I recognize the possibility of physical injury associated with said activity. I release, discharge and agree to hold harmless Barney Stinson, SWAT and his affiliated organizations and sponsors from any and all liability, claims or demands arising from my participation in the above programs, specifically to include any and all claims for personal injuries sustained while present or participating in the programs or traveling to or from events in the programs or while on trips sponsored by or in conjunction to the programs.

The undersigned have read and fully understand and agree to the forgoing.

X Removed to Protect the innocent
Applicant Signature

An Open Letter To Rachel Bilson…

Rachel,

Hey. How are you doing? I couldn’t help but overhear you are single now. I’m really sorry to hear that. Darth Vader seemed like a pretty decent guy, I mean, aside from cutting down the entire Jedi army (including young padawans) and putting the Galaxy in disarray, he seemed like a cool cat.

I also couldn’t help but overhear that you were looking to focus on your career. That’s perfect, because I have a really shitty job and would need you to continue to work so we could both live in the style we’re accustomed to.

Now that I think about it, do you have a place of your own? Cause that would be best. You see I still live at home with the ‘rents (ala Seth Cohen in season 4 of the OC.) Now don’t get me wrong, if I brought you home my parents would LOVE you! More specifically they’d love you because bringing a girl home would start to erase their ever-increasing suspicions that I might be gay.

You’re probably asking yourself, “is this too soon?” “am I emotionally available?” “do we have anything in common?” to which I would reply, no it’s not too soon, based on an episode of How I Met Your Mother (a show you were excellent on btw) there is a very small window of opportunity…

To your second question, am I emotionally available? To that I say probably not, but in the grand scheme of things and considering you are an actress, I’ll take acting like you are emotionally available and call it all good.

Lastly, do we have anything in common, yes, yes we do. For starters we both like to be fashionable at movie premiers. You dressed up something fierce at the Jumper movie premier

Fierce

I also dressed up something fierce at the last Star Wars movie. Of course by fierce I mean ferocious, like the evil Rancor monster. But either way fierce.

(ps, aside from the Star Wars reference in there, saying the word “fierce” a lot is another reason in my parents ever-growing concern that their son is gay. That and I’m watching more Project Runway.)

Lastly, Rachel, I’d like to call upon the time we spent Valentines Day together. You can’t tell me that meant nothing to you?!? I mean you could. Technically. But still I thought we shared quite the moment there. I thought we had something special. Well, now that I’ve written this letter here is your chance to prove that this could be something. I will eagerly be awaiting your reply….

Sincerely,

Me.

ps. I am not a crazy person.

Email Me (this actually is for everyone, not just Rachel. But it’d be cool if Rachel emailed me too.)
SarcasmAsAWeapon@gmail.com

Until Next time…

Down Goes Frasier… pt. 1…

I’ve been trying to write this bad boy for the last couple days. Just a simple blog. Sum up my feelings of the events of last week. However I haven’t been able to. You see, for the last 3 days I’ve been hung over. My mind has been shot. Creative juices. Zero. Motor skills. Non-existent.

(This brings me to my next point… I would like to remind my audience that if there are any spelling, or grammatical errors in the next few paragraphs, it is indeed because I am still drunk. As are most of these post here at Sarcasm.)

For those of you who don’t already know, I was in Las Vegas for the last weekend and apparently tried to commit suicide via drinking as much booze as my poor little liver and kidneys could handle.

It all started when my friend JDub informed me that her work was providing her with a hotel suite at the Mirage hotel in Las Vegas for one week. She was to work a show and be done Friday afternoon and have nothing to do the remainder of the weekend. So the logical choice was to ask me and a number of other friends to join her for some much need binge drinkingrest and relaxation. I immediately agreed for the thought of some time away from The Gym got me all giddy inside. Although the invite was extended to a many of peoples, the one confirmed attendee would be none other than Mr. Thompson.

Mr. Thompson and I go way back to our radio days. We worked very hard on a radio show being awesome and funny. No seriously. Awesome and funny. We were like John Stockton and Karl Malone(minus the short shorts). Or Rob and Big. Or Sammy Davis Jr. (minus the eye thing) and Frank Sinatra (or any of the other white dudes in the Rat Pack.) Basically what I’m trying to get at is we were the perfect tag team comedy show and qualified for equal opportunity employment.

It’s also worth noting, that before my friend Mr. Thompson moved to LA, he, JDub and I had formed a coalition of sorts. This coalition of sorts, was based around the three alcoholic beverages that we so gladly devoured and worshiped. Mine, was, and still is to this day, Mr. Jack Daniels. Mr. Thompson’s was Crown Royal. (it’s changed) and JDub’s was none other than Jose Cuervo. There may actually be a picture of the three of us chugging straight from the bottles of these fine spirits on one of my birthdays. The Coalition was a force to be reckoned with (and a driving force in sales of said liquors. Mr. Thompson and I had been known to get black out drunk Wed-Sundays. Ahhh radio.)

So we were destined to meet in the City of Sin.

I flew all by myself (a point that shall be very important later on) Mr. Thompson drove in from LA, and JDub was already there. As I was the second to arrive I made the executive decision to purchase the first bottle of booze on the trip. It was indeed JD and it was glorious. JDub still needed some to finish up the event, so I took it upon myself to sit and watch Leave it to Lamas in my bathrobe. And get drunk.

Mr. Thompson arrived and the decision we all came up with was to go to Pure at Caesars Palace. We got ourselves dolled up, and there was an actual conversation between Mr. Thompson and I regarding pant length, shoe choice, and which shirt looked best. I believe there were numerous comments from the JDub camp regarding our sexuality, to which we decided to ignore and continue said conversations until we looked smashing!

We made our way to Pure and upon paying a ridiculous amount to get in found our way to an open spot on the dance floor. Were we got our groove on to many of today’s hottest hits. At one point, some dude was grinding on a honey in front of me when I noticed a giant eagle on his back that reflected off the lights in the club. I quickly took it upon myself to start the Napoleon Dynamite Happy Hands club motion behind him in a mocking maneuver. To which the nice Asian lady to the right of our group saw, and began to giggle. Pretty sure there was a mental high five given, and received.

The night wore on, as did our intense drinking. At one point, Mr. Thompson was getting the eye from a classy girl dressed in a Zebra print dress standing in the VIP. Somehow or another, she got Mr. Thompson into the VIP area, which he in turn got me, which she in turn got JDub. So there we were, all in VIP. Having a good time, not buying bottle service. Not buying drinks from the bar, and in actuality, having drinks spilled all over my pants. Like ALL over. Right in front. Pretty much where my junk was. It was also very awesome of the bouncer to flash his flashlight right on my crotch. Allowing everyone in VIP to see my junk, and that it looked very much like I’d wet myself. Awesome.

During our time in VIP I learned that Zebra, was just a girl looking to make it big in Sin City. She moved out here from Arizona, and was just hanging with a group of her “friends” in the VIP area. Indeed her friends were dressed as “classy” as she was, and things began to dawn on JDub and I. Mr Thompson had moved his attentions away from Zebra to some dude I believe he met in the VIP area. I’m not sure what the exchange was all about, however Mr. Thompson was the only one who left the VIP area with a number.

It must be said, that while Mr. Thompson did leave the club with a number, it was JDub that could have left with much much more. After we all stopped paying attention to Zebra, she moved on to a new group of gentlemen. We decided that VIP was not our “scene” so we luckily enough were able to retrieve our previous spot on the dance floor and “posted up.” While posting up, we made it out to the dance floor a number of times to dance to a delightful ditty or two. On one said ditty, JDub were out there busting some moves and generally making people jealous of our awesomeness. So jealous that a bouncer came up to JDub grabbed her arm, and escorted away from me. Mid-Maneuver!! In most cases, I probably would have been concerned and been all what the fuck! where are you taking her. However Jack had indeed been invited and was beginning to take over the party. So instead of getting indignant and protective, I merely said… meh.

Apparently, Mickey, one of PURE’s finest bouncer, took a liking to our friend JDub. So much so, that he removed her form the dance floor and took her up to a stage area, where low and behold, only females were up there dancing. With one exception. Chris Angel was also up on said stage and there were throngs of women around him. Including our own little JDub. Mr. Thompson and I knew it was only a matter of minutes before America’s Douchiest Man got wind of our JDub and would be Mindfreaking her all night long. It was at that moment, we decided to act. And act fast we did. Mr. Thompson and I put our minds together, and worked out an ingenious plan. We pushed our way through the crowd, got as close as we could….. and ordered another round!

The night wore on, JDub got away from Mickey’s evil clutches, I was essentially blacked out, and Mr. Thompson had gotten a dudes phone number in the VIP of PURE. We decided to call it a night and began the walk back to our hotel room where some much needed sleep was in order. However, along the way, as we walked past the tall bushes that line the front of Caesars Palace for some reason or another, I fell into the bushes. Which actually prompted Mr. Thompson to start sprinting down Las Vegas Blvd. beacuase he didn’t want to be caught by the cops. Of course, as JDub described that next afternoon, “walking home with you guys was like trying to herd wild cats.” Mr. Thompson and I high fived. Excellent.

The next afternoon, we all awoke de-hydrated and damn near dead. Some of us were worse for wear. I, because of my alcoholism, looked at the half bottle of Jack Daniels left in the room, and realized, “I’m not hung over. I can’t remember many of the events from last night. Half a bottle of Jack is gone… maybe now would be a good time to address actually having a problem.” Little did I know that that statement would come much later in the trip. Upon everyone waking up, we had a little chat about the nights previous events. Mr. Thompson and I began a dazzling display of insults and jabs directed at JDub about her time with Chris Angel.

Mr Thompson or I: “JDub how did it feel getting Mindfreaked?!?”
JDub: “I didn’t get Mindfreaked!”
Mr. Thompson: “We saw you inching your way toward him! It was impressive.”
JDub: “I don’t even like Chris Angel. He’s a douche…”
Me: “No way, I saw you put the head bob, fling the hair, jazz hands move on him.”
Mr. Thompson: “mmmmmhmmm.”
JDub “You guys, stop. I did not get Mindfreaked.”
Me: “Mr. Thompson, guess what the best thing about getting Mindfreaked is….”
Mr. Thompson: “What?”
Me: “You don’t even know it’s happening so when you get up the next day, you can tell all your friends you met Chris Angel but didn’t get Mindfreaked…”
JDub: “I. DID. NOT. GET. MINDFREAKED*!!
Mr. Thompson and I: *laughter*
JDub: FINE! You guys want to do this!?!?! What about you Mr. Thompson getting worked over by a HOOKER!?!
Mr. Thompson: “WHAAAAA?!?!”
(*At some point, we stopped saying Mindfreaked, and started saying “done in the ass.” We figure a douche like Chris Angel would do something like that. If you re-read this exchange, I’m pretty sure it’s funnier with “done in the ass.” However here at Sarcasm, I at least attempt to show some tact and class in the beginning.)

The mere mention of the Hooker brought Mr. Thompson on the defensive. “What hooker?!?” “There was no hooker!”And then JDub and I began replaying the nights events out loud. The more and more we described a hooker, the more and more Mr. Thompson got defensive.

Mr. Thompson: “She was not a hooker! She was just a small town girl trying to make it big in the city.”
Me: “Dude, she was a hooker. Even “I” knew that. (This statement was indeed powerful because on one of my trips to Vegas, I got to know a nice young lady, only to find out she was a hooker by some friends the next day. I just thought she was being polite.)
JDub: “Mr. Thompson, she was totally working you. She got you into VIP hoping you’d buy shit and the club would get a percentage.”
Mr. Thompson: “No way, she just knew the bouncers. She said she goes there all the time.”
Me: “Dude.”
JDub: “Did you not see her with her friends? They were hookers too!”
Mr. Thompson: “It was just girls night.”
Me: “Duuude.”
JDub: “And PLEASE! You know of ANY classy girls that rock a short ass Zebra dress into the VIP?!?”
Mr. Thompson: “Maybe Forever 21 was just having a sale.”
Me: “DUDE!”
JDub: “She moved on to the next dude, who bought shit, after you stopped paying attention to her!”
Mr. Thompson: “She felt dejected after I turned her down.”
Me: “Dude. Seriously. Hook. Er.”
Mr. Thompson: “She wasn’t a hooker. She was a nice girl.”
Me: “Hooker man.”
Mr. Thompson: “I don’t believe you.”

The best part of this whole interaction is through out the rest of the day, at random times, Mr. Thompson would just say “She wasn’t a hooker.” Which made both JDub and I laugh a bit, and repeat, Dude, she was a hooker. The battle was finally given up later that evening after Mr. Thompson had a conversation with his sister. To which she replied, that she would have had to have seen the girl, and other details before she could make and informed decision, however…. it was most likely a hooker.

To Be Continued…

Until Next Time…

Email Me…
SarcasmAsAWeapon@gmail.com

It Hasn’t Been Laminated…

Some people call it The List others call it the Top 5 but whatever name it takes it’s the same. It’s been featured on Friends and Entourage and those are just two prime examples that I can think of.

Essentially, the list consists of your top 5 celebrities you would have a free pass to sleep with if you were ever in a relationship. (one most also remember the celebrity must want to sleep with you as well. This is where the list works, and most celebrities do not sleep with the common folk.) Sometimes, the list can function as your top 5 hottest people.

To each person the list varies. It’s a very personal list, and you not need justify your selections on said list. You may need to defend them, however, justification is not necessary. People find all sorts of people attractive for many different reasons. Some like my friend Meagan has a certain TV funny man on her list, that, while not the most attractive man in the world, strikes a chord with her funny bone that no man has done before. Therefore, he is at the top of her list. Sometimes, people add pillars of the attractive people to their list for it’s only the right thing to do. For example Micah, has had Halle Berry as his number one for a number of years. I wonder if I may see the day where she topples from that great pillar of number one-ness. Not that I want to see that day come.

There are some minor rules and other reason a person may make your list. I’ll allow Ross Gellar to illustrate why indeed Isabella Rossalini was omitted in his final 5.

Which brings me to some of the rules I’ve always had. #1. You can’t pick a person you may actually run into. For example, when i worked in Radio, there was always a likelihood that some up and coming, or really famous person was to stop by the studio to promote something. So with that being said, I had to eliminate all music people from my list.

Rule #2. They should be living. I think this is self explanatory.

Rule #3. You must disclose the list with your significant other. Not only that, you may NOT be allowed to argue your significant others list. You must accept it, and move on. Like I said, each persons list is there own. Plus opening a dialogue about people you want to sleep with other than your significant other is important. Honesty is the best policy I believe. Even if your cheating.

There it is. Pretty basic I’d say.

However, my top 5 has been pretty solid for quite some time now. Who are they you may ask…. well…

My Number One For Years

She's Got Tattoos. My Mom Hates Tattoos. My mom would not like Ms. Fox. INSTANT attraction.

Oh Summer...

She's Like my Halle Berry. She'll Always Be In Here. If there was a Mt. Rushmore of Hot Women, she'd be on it.

You may have noticed A.) a pattern for one… and B.) you may have noticed there are only 4. You are not taking crazy pills. My dilemma as of late has been that I think I need to add someone to the list. Number 5 sometimes and often times fluctuates. And this is one of those times.

My beautiful friend Minka Kelly has recently been linked with Derek Jeter. Seeing as how I am a die hard Sox fan, I’m pretty sure I cannot have this in my top 5. It’s just to crushing to me. With that being said…

I have a new crush, and Wanted to know if you guys think I should put her in my top 5. Ladies and Gentleman, please meet, Olivia Munn

Atari is the Best!

Yup, I'm a Star Wars Geek, and this is Awesome!

If you haven’t heard of Olivia Munn, it’s probably because you’re some well to do guy/girl with a real job who has since shunned video games of their youth. Olivia hosts Attack of the Show on the G4 network that revolves around all things, how shall i say… geeky. Video games, movies, comics, gadgets, and geek gear all get talked about with some relative humor and two fantastic hosts. One of course being my prospective addition to the top 5.

I debated on writing this post, because I felt it was really shallow. Then I did some deep introspection, and not only did I find nothing, I realized that I am indeed this shallow. Plus I really wanted to use the poll thing on my blog, and have another excuse to go through Olivia Munn’s blog again.

It’s funny though, because after all this searching and watching videos, I’ve come to realize that Olivia has some pretty amazing qualities outside of some very superficial ones that, lets be honest, are pretty amazing themselves. You see, she’s funny, and caring (animal blog post), was in Playboy (as we all know, my mom won’t like that, and anything my mom doesn’t like is INSTANT attraction. My mother is not a reader though, so I think were good.) and she loves Growing Pains. I too love Growing Pains.

She was also in a kick-ass music video… good lord reminds me of Best Buy days…

I feel like unbeknown to her, we are a perfect match.

So.. anyway…. time to vote people…

Until Next Time…

Email me
SarcasmAsAWeapon@gmail.com

Oh Captain, My Captain…

Would you believe me if I were to tell you at the ripe ole age of seven, I was watching movies from Francis Ford Coppola?

You’d call bullshit right?

That my friend would be where you are wrong.

You see, many moons ago while I was just a young lad, I often took trips to California to visit my grandparents in San Diego. During most of these trips my grandparents would make sure that my brothers and I had a great time and filled our summer with amazing memories.

We’d often hit up the San Diego Wild Animal Park. Or the San Diego Zoo. One time we were even treated with the opportunity to visit Miramar Marine Base. (It used to be Miramar Naval Base, and the reason that’s cool, and the reason you should care, is because that’s where they filmed Top Gun. Remember the scene where Charlie is dissecting Mavericks flying, and he gets all pissed? Remember that darkened room? Yeah? I was in there. I sat there where Maverick, Goose, Iceman, and Sundown all sat. Aside from my job at the radio station, this is the only time I really namedrop anyone. However, I have since stopped, cause Tom Cruise is a crazy bastard.)

In addition to all those cool activities, my grandparents made sure that we attended Disneyland at least one day while we were on vacation there. Many of my now existing fears and loves are because of these trips to Disneyland.

My love of pirates? Pirates of the Caribbean.

Fear of the Ocean? Captain Nemo’s Submarine ride.

Hatred of the Outdoors and Cold? Matterhorn.

Back in 1986 one of my new loves was just forming. See, music television had just hit the airwaves, and there was one such a gentleman that was ruling them. His name was Michael Jackson. He was great. Billie Jean was the coolest video. Mainly because he had a tiger in it. I had no fucking clue what was going on, but dammit tigers were awesome. I can remember back then that I often attempted to copy the King of Pop. I had a red jacket that I thought rivaled that of MJ. However, mine was a Members Only jacket, and the only zipper was the one down the middle. I felt that even though it lacked that many number of zippers that MJ’s did, being red, it was very much the same.

Much like any kid my age, MJ’s dance moves were legendary. I can remember a rumor flying around school that Tommy had actually done the Moonwalk. I mean the actual Moonwalk. Not just dragging your feet slowly as you walked backwards like so many other kids in school could pull off. (me included.)

Summer rolled around, and it was indeed time to make it to California for the traditional summer vacation trip with my brother. At the beginning this seemed as if it was going to be just another trip to Disneyland. Seeing as there was no internet at the time information on your favorite Pop star was few and far between unless you heard it on the morning show of a radio station your parents didn’t want you listening to under the bed covers in your room. So being 7 years old, I may have missed out on the fact that my favorite Pop star of the time, and all around cool guy, was indeed going to be at Disneyland.

No, not quite in person, turns out that after his 4th nose job (not a stat I’m making up by the way) MJ was working on his new Sci-Fi image and career. Enter….

Captain EO!

For those of you who haven’t seen this piece of work let me fill you in. Disney took the reigns and produced a “state-of-the-art” 3D movie that would be featured in their theme parks. Starring none other than Michael Jackson, and some BAD ASS effects. When you’re 7 people, 3D is amazing. And the glasses are cool. Not only did it star MJ, but Academy Award Nominee Angelica Houston, and directed by Francis Ford Coppola.

No shit. Francis Ford Coppola.

Apparently at the time, not only was it the coolest movie I’d ever seen in my life. It was also the most expensive per minute movie in the entire world.

I feel as if my words in writing this don’t give this cinematic masterpiece it’s due. So with that being said throw on your 3D glasses and enjoy all that is, Captain EO!

and part two

I’m not sure it works, but if you have some 3D glasses I suggest you put them on and enjoy…. Man this brings back so many memories.

I left that day satisfied beyond all belief. My new found musical pop hero was in the coolest movie I had ever seen. I was at Disneyland. And to take home with me I bought the flying little thing as a plush toy…

I can remember seeing Captain EO a couple times over the next couple years. My grandma always sat through it with me, and always complained about the music of the movie. Another Part of Me by MJ became one of my favorite songs of my childhood years.

The good news, I can watch Captain EO on YouTube, and pick up Another Part of Me on iTunes. And even though he may have been clouded by some “extra curricular” activities, I’ve got some fond memories of The King of Pop. He truly was a talented musician.

Plus, everything is so much cooler when your 7.

Until Next Time…

Email me
SarcasmAsAWeapon@gmail.com

Book Worm…

As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve begun a new and exciting job at one of my local gyms. It’s not glamorous and the only true power I wield is letting people in the gym or allowing them to tan. Out side of that I’m pretty much a stool pigeon in dri-fit pants and a sweat wicking shirt, than more than likely won’t be doing any sweat wicking any time in the near future. (If ever)

As I told numerous friends of mine, and them knowing full well of my single status all seemed to reply with the same answer. “Well at least you’ll meet some hot girls.” Yes I may, and I shall wow them with my hourly paying salary that rivals that of my recently high school graduated brother, my snazzy pants, and my new found powers. However, at least I’ll meet some hot girls.

As I re-examined my not so high paying job, I did include meeting hot girls into the “perks” of the job. Well boys and girls, I am here to tell you there are VERY FEW hot girls that work out at my gym. I’m talking maybe 4 tops. MAYBE.

In fact, since I am the closing shift, there are absolutely NO hot girls that come strolling into work at 8-11pm to work on their fitness. Not only are there no hot girls, the 8-11pm time frame seems to be the best time for crazies, meth heads, wackos, and nut jobs to get a couple reps in. I’m not sure what calls to them. Maybe it’s the fact that no one will judge them (aside from me), or that they can be alone in the place (aside from me) with their thoughts. Whatever the case may be, we have an over abundance of crazies that work out at my gym at night.

I am thankful of being a dude as well, because if I were a girl and had to close the gym with these whack jobs, no doubt I’d be getting the heebie geebies every single night. (Let it be known, I in fact do get the heebie geebies every night, however, I feel that I could throw down if it came down to it. I mean, as long as they didn’t punch me in the face. It’s all I got.)

In addition to closing the joint down, sometimes I work 11 hour days. That’s right, 11 hours of standing at the front desk and basically allowing people to enter and use the workout equipment. I feel like James Vanderbeek in How I Met Your Mother. If you’ve seen the episode, it’s hilarious. I couldn’t find it on YouTube, and since my last two blogs didn’t have a HIMYM reference I figured I’d pony up and put on here.

Soooo… needless to say, I get a bit bored. (B. T. Dub, if it’s needless to say, then why did I say “needless to say.” English. How funny.) And whilst contemplating my boredom, I decided to start bringing books into work.

Those of you who know me may be startled at this revelation , for I believe many of you are of the understanding that my reading prowess extends no further than Calvin and Hobbes. (Yes, the comic. No, not the philosophisers.)

At first I was bringing in books from my own personal collection. Now I Can Die In Peace, by Bill Simmons. Faithful by Steven King and Stewart O’Nan. And Hate Mail from Cheerleaders by Rick Reilly. (2 outta 3 books on the Boston Red Sox. that’s battin .750 folks.) I realized that after cranking through all three of those books in one day, I would have to venture out and bring something with a little more length.

Therefore I turned to my friend Harry Potter. It is widely known that Harry Potter series are the longest books I’ve ever read in my life. Including college. I find this to be an incredible feat, while others are not so impressed. So I brought in some of my books that I one day hoped to be reading to my kid. I delved back into one of the books to begin passing the hours at the gym.

While working at the gym I interact with a wide number of people. With a bunch of different backgrounds, and different lifestyles. People come up to me asking all sorts of questions…
“Are you putting on the Game on the TVs?”
“Why is the Sauna not hot enough?”
“Why do you have a camera on the hot tub?”
“Do people do it in there?”
(so we can see if people drown, and no. No one’s done it in there. At least not to my knowledge.)
[sidebar – seriously this job is going to waste while I’m single.]

As I pass the time reading in addition to the previous gems for question, the one I get mostly is “Whatcha reading?” Now in terms of the sports books, people curiosity was satisfied with just the title, and they moved on with their workout/day.

However, in the case of Harry Potter it was often enough for people to linger and make some sort of comment about the book.
“I Love those books!”
“At least your reading something!”
“I didn’t think you knew how to read.”
“Those books really appeal to certain types of people don’t they?”

Yet my all time favorite was this…
“You must really love when the scanner magically scans my bar code on my membership card then huh?”

as a matter of fact I do. Dick.

So with that last question (and the fact that I finished Harry Potter 6 in two days) I decided I need to obtain myself some more books that would…
A.) Make me looks smart.
B.) Have the two hot girls I know inquire and then be awed by how smart and witty I am.
C.) Make me look more educated than a fourth grader.
D.) Be the new trendy book and the topic of conversations on all things “cool.”
E.) Get me through my 11 hour days.

Seeing as how I’m poor I decided the library was the best option, when it had occurred to me that I did not have a library card. It had then dawned on me, that I had no fucking clue where the library was. This endeavor was going to be harder than I thought.

I settled for a local bookstore and began my search for “the one book.” I noticed some books by Chuck Palahnuik, which I feel as if I’m somewhat obligated to buy, seeing as how he is from the Northwest. I also kinda liked Fight Club so maybe I should get another one of his books. On second thought, the cover sucked. I’m out.

Which brings me to two very important ideologies I have in regards to books.
#1. I will judge a book by it’s cover. It’s no secret that I am indeed a consumer whore, and I will buy things based on how cool they look. So if the book looks cool, chances are I’ll be much more inclined to buy it. And recommend it to friends.

#2. I believe all books came from movies. I will not falter on this.

With that being said, I feel that I should actually read some books that I tell people I’ve already read. You know, the Great Gatsby, Catch 22, that book by Jack Kerouac, The Jungle, War and Peace. But seeing as how people already think I’ve read them, what’s the point.

I lingered at the bookstore for over an hour, just perusing books that cuaght my eye. Here is the list of said books. (Not ALL of them, cause there were some really cool covers out there… )

Loose Girl – Kerry Cohen (obviously)
Tuesdays With Morrie – Mitch Albom ( My roommate in college had this. Morrie must have been a pretty cool dude to give up every Tuesday for. I mean it’s 50 cent wing night at Buffalo Wild Wings. And they have beer.)
Sasquatch – Jeff Meldrum (Not quite the hot girl lure I was hoping for, but the cover was BAD ASS!)
A-Rod – Selena Gomez – (Any book that calls A-Rod “bitch tits” is ok in my book. get it? In my book… I kill me.)
I Am Legend – (Sorry, graphic novel section)
The Raw Shark Texts – Steven Hall (Chicks dig texts. Sharks are cool. We may have a winner.)
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies – Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith (I always figured that movie could use a few zombie killings. Not that I’ve seen it.)
Microserfs – Douglas Coupland (I feel like my inner geek is reaching out and begging me to buy this book. Plus I think they’re writing about my dad.)
The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom (Since I’m not going, no need to worry about who I’m meeting. pass.)

So my blogging friends this is my feeble attempt at getting some recommendations on some making me smart looking-conversation starter-hot girl appealing- 11 hour killing books that are…
1. Cover appealing.
2. Aren’t movies I’ve already seen.

And ps, if ONE of you mentions Tucker Max, I’m going to be pissed…

Feel Free to email me…
SarcasmAsAWeapon@gmail.com

Until Next time…

Never Pet A Hooker… Pt 2…

If you haven’t already done so, please make sure you read part 1 of this Saga in Seattle. (ooh alliteration.)

After the nights run in with a Hooker, it was off to sleep in our cozy hotel room. I figured I’d plow through a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep and wake up feeling like a million bucks.

This however could not be further from the truth. Roughly at about 5:45 am, the fire alarm in the hotel was going off. We happened to have the room right by the exit, so I could hear everyone congregating outside our room. And by everyone, I mean a team of high school girls it seemed. Along with the fire alarm, I could hear countless girls laughing and cackling and generally having a raucous good time.

Of course, what they couldn’t hear was me, still laying in bed cussing up a storm. I made it my goal to let the world know how pissed off I was at this current moment. Had sailors been around, more than likely I would have offended them. It was definitely a mouth I don’t kiss my mother with.

After a good 3 minutes of my continuous swearing, I decided that my life was probably a little more valuable than a couple more minutes of sleep, and there was a group of high school girls just outside my door probably in teddies, and all sorts of hot lingerie. I begrudgingly got my self out of bed and headed to put on a shirt. The second, and I mean the SECOND that shirt was on, the fire alarm, and girls ceased.

I’m not sure I’ve ever been more pissed in my life. More swearing ensued.

About 930am I made a phone call to my friend Micah for it was indeed his birthday. We had a great conversation about his birthday, and shenanigans, and how he was in fact not in Seattle over the weekend. The reason I questioned this, was because it was in fact my friend Micah who rocked the Michael Vick jersey when trying to score at the clubs. He talked me down of the ledge, by letting me know, much like Vick’s career, his Vick jersey was on lock down.

The phone call lasted about half an hour, when JDub started getting agitated and needing food. Apparently training for a Triathlon* generates an insatiable hunger. So we were off to find some food. However, something was off. I just didn’t feel right. My stomach didn’t want anything inside it, and I was fighting off the urge to fall over and go to sleep. I wasn’t hung-over, because I’ve been hung-over many times, and this was unlike anything. I couldn’t figure it out.

[side bar, please check out JDubs fund raising for her triathlon, it’s for a good cause]

JDub, being the trendy-outdoorsy type that she is, drove my sorry ass to Whole Foods, where she figured we’d both find something to eat. We got inside, and at first, I was in awe of what the Whole Foods had to offer. I am a man that enjoys good food, and for my first time at Whole Foods, it seemed as if they had everything. Chinese food, Pizza, Meat, tons of Beer, it was all there, and on any other given day, Whole Foods may have turned into my favorite store. However on this day, Whole Foods became enemy number one.

As I previously stated, my stomach didn’t feel as if it wanted any food. And while the prospect of some nice Chinese food always makes me happy, I can honestly say the ONLY thing I wanted in this world at that time was a Gatorade, shit, I would have settled for Powerade even. As I perused the store, I saw all sorts of organic hipster loving bullshit. Organic this, organic that, Whole Foods was rapidly moving down my list of cool places to shop. After many passes through the store, I came to the conclusion they had no Gatorade. I want Gatorade dammit. Finally becoming acutely aware of my misery and hatred for the store, JDub found an ultra-hipster employee and the following exchange occurred…

JDub “scuse me, do you guys happen to have Gatorade?”
Ultra Hipster * scoffing at her * “We DON’T carry Gatorade! (acting all indignant that someone would insult the great Whole Foods by carrying Gatorade.)
JDub “ok, do you have anything with electrolytes in it??”
Ultra Hipster “ummm we have some VitaminWater.”
JDub “Soooo water with some vitamins in it?”
Ultra Hipster “Well, ya.”
JDub “ So nothing with electrolytes?”
Ultra Hipster “ VitaminWater.”
JDub “Thanks for ALL your help.”

That was pretty much it. Whole Foods and been removed from my list of places I’ll ever shop. Listen, I know people in their Birkenstocks and Volvo’s love that shit, but if you “CANT” carry some Gatorade, were going to have words.

I settled for some Organically grown water in a bottle and proceeded to checkout with a limited amount of Chinese food. For if it was indeed a hangover, I would soon be cured. I looked longingly at my food, as if at some point it would let me know it would all be ok. That if I ate it, the magic would come through and I could go on and face the day. This was all not to be. I took one bite, and my stomach informed me that another bite, may in fact be the worst decision ever.

We left shortly, with JDub wanting to go for a run, or walk downtown, or check out Pikes Market. However, I, I could only think of one thing. Sleeping. I was having problems keeping myself awake, I knew instantly I was not hung-over. No, I was indeed still drunk.

As I awoke again at 4 o’clock with a hangover I asked JDub just how many people I drunk dialed the night before.
Me “How many people did I drunk dial last night?”
JDub “No one. Oddly enough.”
Me “No one? Are you sure?
JDub “ ya positive.”
Me “That’s weird, I could have sworn we called Micah.”
Jdub “ You did, this morning.”
Me “ ooooooh shit… I don’t really remember that. At all.”

That’s right boys and girls, I made my first trip to Whole Foods, still outta my mind drunk. Awesome. (My feeling still stands. Carry Gatorade assholes.)

Four o’clock brought time for us to get out and face the day. That and the fact the Everybody Loves Raymond was over. We threw on our Sox gear and headed toward the stadium to meet up with some more friends at Sluggers, a sports bar near the stadium.

As we wandered the streets of Seattle, we got a lot of negative remarks for our Sox gear proudly displayed. “Sox Suck.” “Go Mariners!” we’re the majority of things said to us. In most cases I would be the one returning a verbal assault on someone. At one point we were walking down the street, when a bum on the side of the road shouted to us, “Mariners are going to give Boston a tea party tonight!!” This actually caught me off guard and I had no response. JDub, in all her cleverness returned quite the volley…

“Yeah, well I have a home and you DON’T. DEAL!”

Both the bum and I were in awe. It was glorious. Obviously not to the guys feelings, but quite the comeback. To which I turned to her and said… “That’s going in the blog.”

She knew what she had done.

We met up with JLee, Tyson, his brother, and spunky little thing named Katie. We all hung around Sluggers pregame, and enjoyed a number of cocktails and tallboys of Bud Light. (Funniest point of this part of the night was a tie, between this group of douches in plaid shirts wearing St. Louis hats taking pictures of Katie, and Katie, who’s all of 5’3, chugging her tall boy in record time, and slamming it down on the table proclaiming DONE!)

The Sox won the game with Josh Beckett pitching a gem.
Highlights of the game…
1. JDub being called Maam by some dad.
2. Some 8-year-old girl, would mean mug me (glare) every time I verbally rooted for my sox. I counted 4 times. I also made a bet that she was going to throw up, after killing, Nachos, Soda, Cotton Candy, and possible some pizza. I don’t remember it was gone quick.
3. Fans from Boston buying me shots of Jack at the bar in the stadium.
4. Unknowledgeable fan being taught baseball as it was happening by his softball playing girlfriend. Or, mistress, as he was wearing a ring, and she was not. Dude was really annoying… “ooooh that ball is really high.” “ooooh he hit that pretty far.”
5. Girl sitting next to me getting shots, asking her boyfriend if Josh Beckett is good, while rocking a Papelbon shirt. You honey, are a bad Sox fan, as is your boyfriend. He should have his ass kicked. I’m not kidding about this. Don’t bring your new Sox fan girlfriend to the game if she doesn’t know her history. If she didn’t have a sweet southern accent, I would have been more pissed.

We left the game on a mission to meet up with JLee and crew at the Red Door a bit a ways from our hotel. We stood on a street corner attempting to wave down a cab. After several minutes, we saw a cab coming towards us and started waiving. To our shock, he crossed three lanes of traffic coming within inches of hitting the car parked on the side, and having the Toyota Camry rear end him.

I knew we were in for something special!

We got into the cab, and gave him the location, and we were OFF! He took off like a bat out of hell. No red light could stop him, no corner was to sharp, and mirrors we just decorations. Our man had his head on a swivel like he was running from the cops. In fact, now that I think about it… we may have been in a stolen cab. I felt like I was Space Mountain in Disneyland, and only he knew where we were going. The ride jilted the both of us, and I asked to borrow the cabbies Rosary he had dangling from his mirror. It was next to the peace sign.

As we met up with JLee and crew, we got drinks and began just having a good time. The weekend was dying down for most of us, and some of us (me) were a bit tired from the night before. However, once I started drinking that Jack, I couldn’t help but “need’ more. I’m not kidding when I say I have a problem. I’ll deal with it later.

Probably the highlight of the night was when someone spilled some whiskey on the table, and Tyson was in no way going to let it go to waste. So like a cat, he leaned down and began licking the whiskey straight off the table. To which everyone all started moaning and yelling “grossssss.”

I took this opportune time to make a remarkable observation.

“I guess I’m not the most likely to get gonorrhea this weekend now am I?!?”

To which, everyone agreed. And I sat vindicated. My ultimate feat of being the most likely to get gonorrhea by petting a hooker, was trumped only by a man licking whiskey up from a bar table.

Which brings me to the end. While I have remained STD free for my many years of living, my recent outings have caused me to re-think my actions whilst drunk. My conclusion I shall pass onto you, my friends…
Never Pet A Hooker.

Email me at
SarcamsAsAWeapon@gmail.com

Until Next time…

“A Very Special Blog Post…”

So I broke down a couple weeks back. Turns out a friend of mine in radio made the final push and I cracked. I signed up for twitter. That’s right. I signed up to let everyone know what I was doing every second of the day. (Or every second I had a device capable of accessing the internet.)

I held off for as long as possible seeing as how I thought no one cared what I did minute after minute. I mean, in any given day whilst being unemployed I could give you the rundown of what I do right here.

11:45am wake up
11:46am go to the bathroom
11:47am fire up the computer.
11:49am Hopefully check emails about jobs I’ve applied for. Only to receive Facebook emails about What Disney Princess would my ex girlfriend be.
11:52am Go eat breakfast, turn on Sportscenter
12:00 back to the computer making my daily rounds. Facebook.com Perezhilton.com Barstool Sports.com and Yahoo.com
1:00pm (hopefully there was some decent stuff to read killing an apparent hour to my day.) Think about taking a shower.
1:01pm not taking a shower.
1:02pm start the online search for jobs.
2:00pm Get distracted by email from friend with a dog running into a wall, or a splendidly crafted A-Rod joke.
2:30pm Fire up the ole’ World of Warcraft.
4:00pm contemplate lunch. Eat Peanut M&M’s instead.
4:05pm now with Baseball season starting, fireup ESPN.com Gamecast of the Red Sox game. (put on in background)
4:10pm Online job search again.
5:00pm ask mom what’s for dinner.
5:10pm Contemplate another shower.
5:11pm Don’t take said shower.
5:30pm Start refreshing the Facebook and other social media sites, cause my friends are all off work.
7:00pm Watch Jeopardy.
7:31pm Hit my brother, bother one of the cats, generally annoy and bother those around me.
7:32pm PS3/Wii time
8:00pm start watching shows on TV, or turn on Hulu.com and catch up on shows I’ve missed.
9:00pm Realize that TV these days sucks. Head back to the internet for some fun.
10:00pm Most of my friends have started to doze off, refreshing of social media slows.
11:00pm Realize I’m not getting to sleep any time soon. Start up How I Met Your Mother season 1, 2, or 3.
11:15pm Start a search of the internet for something to keep me occupied. (read:pornWorld News)
3:00am Turn on Lord of the Rings, or Harry Potter and finally fall to sleep.

Done.

That is my entire day almost in it’s entirety.
Seriously, if you feel the want or desire to follow me on twitter, or you think I’m wildly attractive, and charmingly witty, then by all means… follow away.

PS. that also gives out my real last name, so if you are equally as attractive and non-crazy, please feel free to do a little stalking. I won’t mind.
(sidebar: However, if your said hotness is less than said crazy-ness please forget I said anything. In fact, that’s not even my last name. I don’t know who that dude is.
In addition if you are unaware of said crazy hot scale, please allow my friend Barney Stinson to elaborate…
I’m sure I’ve posted that before. Or at least sent it to all my guy friends on Facebook at least twice.)

I mentioned before that I have been watching a lot of TV on Hulu.com. It’s just a website that hosts tons and tons of TV shows and movies in one convenient location. Did you miss Lazy Sunday or Dick in a Box from SNL? Maybe you’re too old, and you missed all of Doogie Howser M.D. or Charles in Charge? They’re all here. Some in all of their 80’s glory.

Speaking of 80’s glory… how bout these…
When Scott Baio of Charles in Charge drops his “L’s” when talking to the Chinese food delivery guy. In the 80’s racism was still funny. (Of course as I’ve noted before, all of this changed when 90210 aired, and let all of us who were raised by the TV set know, that it was in fact NOT ok to be racist. Thanks 90210.)

What about when Hot Hot Hot Chelsea Noble, Doogie’s former babysitter, came back to visit Dr. Howser and wanted to make out with him??? Don’t remember? Neither did I, until I watched the episode and did an extensive IMDB search to find who she was…

One Hot Babysitter

Of course then I came to realize she’s the same lady who met this douche….

That’s right, I think Kirk Cameron is a douche. And it was only after watching the E! True Hollywood Story that I came to this conclusion. It’s widely known that Kirk himself was at the downfall of Growing Pains. One of my favorite tv shows EVER! Apparently, Kirk found God and didn’t think that playing Mike Seaver was very respectful… blah blah blah… YOU TOOK GROWING PAINS FROM ME!!!

However, congrats on the salvation thing and great success on your movies.

As one may be able to tell, I watch a lot of tv, now and in the past. Television these days is great. I love it. I have a lot of show I follow on a consistent basis. But there is one thing I miss. Some of my younger readers may not know exactly what I’m about to talk about, but I really miss “A Very Special Episode.” The 80’s made valiant attempts to teach younger viewers and their parents the dangers and pitfalls of real life. Most of life was not lived with a supplied laugh track. And when real life problems were broached in the 80’s, producers made sure that those at home were to know it was coming. And it always went a little something like this….

Probably the most famous of all “Very Special Episodes” was from Diff’rent Strokes and the child molester. I contemplated putting in some video but decided, not only was it really creepy, but it was entirely too long. If you really feel the need to see what I’m talking about, feel free to hit up YouTube and search “Diff’rent Strokes and Bicycle Man.” While that officially creeped me out I’ll leave you with this gem from Diff’rent Strokes.

I think the closest we ever had to “A Very Special Episode in the 90’s was Saved By The Bell’s Jessie’s Song in 1990. I truly believe that had this show every rocked some primetime, we would have heard…

“Join us Monday night for A Very Special Episode of Saved By The Bell, where Jessie turns to drugs while trying to get by in school.” And this would have been the promo…

So awesome. So, so awesome.

Of course, taking caffeine pills wasn’t the biggest of Jessie Spano’s worries. Not being a gigantic whore in Las Vegas was.

Until Next Time…

email me…
SarcasmAsAWeapon@gmail.com

If At First You Don’t Succeed… “F” With Someone Else’s Head…

Well, I’m not going to gloat and tell you I told you so….

But really… I told you so.

Way back in the month of January when this long process began, I picked the eventual winner of the Bachelor. Sweet little vixen Melissa was the girl I picked to win it all. And, for those of you watching at home, you’ll have already seen that I was right.

Sometimes I find it hard to say those words. I was right. It’s almost like a guilty pleasure. I was right. Of course being single I get to say those words as often as possible. Which is actually all the time. This being another prime example.

I can tell you, I didn’t watch one single episode aside from this last episode, and “After the Final Rose,” which I think would have been a lot more awesome with the audience participation. The bulk of my commentary comes based on “AfTR” episode in which we see a major twist, and the Bachelors most dramatic episode ever. (Their words not mine.)

However, I would like to point out, that hot little DeAnna Pappas must have needed some sort of TV time for her time of fame has run out, because she made an appearance to try and ruin things. I keep trying to tell her, that she chose the wrong dude in the first place.

Again, I was right. What the hell. Have no idea how that happens.

I previously wrote that I was hoping that Jason “the Dumbass” Mesnik (sp) wouldn’t choose the little Vixen in hopes of me packing up this laptop moving to Dallas and trying to woo her myself. However, my dreams were crushed for a mere 15 minutes.

After the happy couple is shown we are treated to “AfTR” in which we supposed to see how the happy couple has come along. Jason is introduced, and we are warned that this is the most dramatic and potentially damaging on peoples…..blah blah blah blah……

He begins by telling the host that is relationship has changed with the little Vixen Melissa. That in fact, he doesn’t believe that they should be together (yes! *fist pump* I mean, my bad, that sucks) anymore, that they are not right for each other. Out comes Melissa in a strikingly short, low cut dress befitting a hottie from The DFW. What transpires is a brutal 15 minutes of television where poor Melissa is crushed in front of millions of viewers (or according to the host, all of America).

I couldn’t help but want to console her. Let her cry on my shoulder. Let her express her feelings of anger and rejection, by dressing up as a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader and prance around my room. This of course would have to happen with the door open because I’m not allowed to have girls in my room.

Melissa than gave us a true glimpse into how angry and hurt she was, when she started to refer to herself in the third person. I half expected her to start the angry neck thing girls get going on and waving one finger. However, she remained a classy girl and just stuck to the third person. Which was kinda funny, alarming, and awesome all at the same time. (Ps, guys, if your girlfriend or wife begins referring to herself in the third person, find out what you did, profusely apologize, and find out how comfy the couch is. Or in Jason’s case, send her packing back to Dallas in a limo. BOO YAH!)

Finally, Melissa and Jason said their goodbyes, which weren’t very cordial. In fact, Melissa made it a point to let him know “don’t call me, and don’t text me anymore.” To which I couldn’t help but think, no matter how old you are, or who you’re saying that too, I believe you will always sound as if you are in 9th grade. However she did leave out, facebook, and myspace so I think she saved some face.

It is at this time I would like to write a letter to poor disheveled Melissa.
You may skip ahead.

Melissa,
Real sorry to hear about that douche Jason. I’m not going to lie, I’m kinda glad things didn’t work out. You see, I couldn’t help but notice you were a cheerleader. I happen to really like cheerleaders. You also wore a really short, low cut dress. I too like short low cut dresses (not on me. However I do have really nice legs.) In addition to that, I am unemployed, and you have a job. I like people who have jobs. You like reality TV. I like reality TV. And finally, you are really hot, and I like really hot people. So one can only deduce that with as much as we have in common, we should totally get together sometime. It’ll be my treat. My brother works at the movies, so we can see Oscar winner Slumdog Millionaire, (I figure you’ve been taping and haven’t gotten out much) go get some chalupas from Taco Bell (coupons provided from 100 point night at a NBA game) and get some drinks (you being as hot as you are, will score them from dudes who want to buy you drinks.) I know what you’re thinking…. what a perfect night out.
Think about it…. and you know…. text me.

Look How Cute She is!!!

I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I’m thinking Melissa and I would look mighty cute together.

So Melissa leaves heartbroken and in comes Molly, and to sum it all up quickly… she takes him back. But initially, he picked Melissa, as evidenced by the ring, so therefore I win. I also couldn’t help but feel I had just watched an episode of Degrassi.

I would like to take this moment, and acknowledge the host of this fine show. Chris Harrison I believe was his name. Lets take a look at his “Bro” moments in “AtFR” shall we…

#1. When tensions run high, and Melissa is about to give Jason what he deserves, Chris quickly takes a commercial breaks taking the heat off Jason. Bro Move.
#2. He then gives Jason a moment with Melissa to say good bye. And by good bye, as Bro’s we all know, he was giving Jason a chance to obtain what is known as break up sex. However, this was denied, evidenced by a shot of Melissa walking down the hall and to the limo.
#3. While questioning new potential GF for Jason, he does the ultimate set up by planting good thoughts of them getting back together.
#4. Molly gives Jason some real tough questions in which he has no answer. (Aside from saying I’m a jackass) Chris the host, realizes this, and according to Bro code, interrupts and states, “there is a reason Jason is here Molly.” Allowing Jason not to have to answer, and start talking sweet nothings to Molly. All in hopes of getting laid. Nice Bro.
#5. Toward the end, you can see Molly grappling with the idea of what is going on, when The Ultimate Bro steps in and asks Jason, “You gotta be in love with this girl?” To which Jason obviously replies yes, for he has seen the alley oop that his Bro has given him, and slams it down with authority.

My hope, is that one day, we can all live in a world where Bros. like Chris Harrison are in abundance. Where everyman is given the gift of a god like Bro with supernatural powers to give you an all expense trip to New Zeland to have sex with two hot girls. Where, the Bro shall always be in support of you in your endeavors fighting for good, and triumphing over evil. And if by chance this day shall come long after I am dead, well then I shall swoop down from the heavens, and sing like an angel. For brethren, we have all seen the light, and we have all seen what can be. And brethren, It. Is. Good.

Amen.

Until Next Time….

SarcasmAsAWeapon@gmail.com

Noooooooooo!!!!!…

DAMN YOU PEREZ HILTON!!!

DAMN YOU! You effectively ruined my day! 

Maybe she’s not a beard after all??? Congrats to actress/fashionista Rachel Bilson and her actor beau, Hayden Christensen.

The duo got engaged in December and the news is just leaking now! A friend babbled, “They’re so excited! They’re a great couple.

Rachel seems thrilled beyond belief.” A wedding date has yet to be set. We can’t wait to see what Miz Bilson chooses to wear!

---

I’m at a loss of words. (Thats not true, I just figure people say that for dramatic effect) Are you serious?!? Surely you can’t be serious Ms. Bilson. I mean…. WTF?

DId you SEE Jumper? I did! It was on VALENTINES DAY! I guess you’ve already forgotten the time we spent together haven’t you Rach?? It just hurts.

Hadyen Christensen? For reals?

Did you not see what he did to Padme? Yeah he killed her! Now, granted this may have happened in a Galaxy Far, Far Away, and it may not be 100% real, but for fuck sake!

He took out Natalie Portman (huge sin among geeks), dismantled the Jedi Order (even bigger sin among geeks), and became Darth Vader (Somewhat cool for geeks. Not so much Hayden becomeing Darth Vader, but Darth Vader in general). I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be really hard to make out with that mask on Rach!

Someone help her out. More than likely Hayden has picked up a little knowledge of the Force and is now brain washing her! Quick, I need a Jedi, and I need one NOW! Get over to Ms. Bilson’s house and start some Jedi mind shit to make her see the light.

Plus, do some IMDBing Rachel. Did you know he was in Life as A House? What a pussy.

Lord I’m pissed.

Hadyen Christensen again ruining my life. First it was the Star Wars movies, now it’s taking Rachel Bilson.

A pox on you Hayden Christensen! A POX!

More on my love of Rachel Bilson Here…

Untill Next time…

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