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If a man is paralyzed from the neck down, can he still get an erection?

The guy probably could get an erection but he just wouldn’t know when it occurs or why, because he has no control of what occurs below his neck.

Next question..


The other day, after eating a breakfast burrito at my desk, I looked on the floor about three feet away from where I was sitting and noticed several ants.  Then I looked one foot closer to where I was sitting and noticed several more ants – so naturally I looked directly below my feet and realized I was in ground zero.  My reaction was to stand up and stomp them out with my feet like a hyperactive college football fan who thinks that more sounds win games, not quality play by the players.  I must have taken 1000 lives that morning.

What makes us (for the most part) compassionless when it comes to murdering bugs?  You wouldn’t slaughter 1000 puppies, or even 1000 humming birds for that matter.  So what is it about insects that bypasses our morality and general restraint?

insect-costumesI have a few theories:  Bugs are tiny and their feet don’t make noise on the ground when they walk like ours do.  They also don’t have eyebrows or facial expressions like we do.  They don’t bark or make any vocal sound that we can hear or relate to our own vocal chords.  So therefore, we kill them because we can’t relate to them?  Is the only thing that prevents us from putting rounds in Canadian Geese and puppies the fact they they share a few similar humanly traits as us?

Most of the general public would squish an ant, but what about a praying mantis?  Where is the line for you?  Could you crunch a mantis under your boot heel; or would you pussy out and be a hypocrite because it is too large?

If someone empties a 50-pound sack of beans onto the ground, those beans will form a heap (or a pile, or a mound, or whatever term you want to use to indicate a large grouping). Suppose someone then takes one bean off the top of the heap and places it on the ground a few feet away – how many heaps are there?  It seems obvious that the single bean by itself is not a heap, and the large grouping of beans is still a heap.  We get the same conclusion if we relocate a second bean to the same spot, and a third bean, and a fourth bean.  In fact, it seems we could keep moving beans one at a time from the heap to the non-heap and never reach the point where we can say “This is the bean that makes all the difference.”  There will never be a moment when the addition or removal of one single bean will cause the newer grouping of beans to become a heap, or the older grouping of beans to stop being a heap.  In the same regard there is not clear cut off as to when an insect becomes big enough, or develops enough humanly characteristics to be granted immunity from senseless slaughter.



Anyone who tells you that they actually know how wireless internet works is more full of shit than the guy who goes to the gym in the morning and says it “gives him energy throughout the day”.  How the fuck can an HD copy of Pulp Fiction float across my kitchen, down my stair case, through my roommate’s wall-collage of shirtless buddy pictures, and then land into my computer – where it instantaneously becomes images and sounds?  I can “accept” internet when there is a cable that connects my computer directly to some internet infested socket in the wall.  I don’t understand it, but I can “accept” it because I can see it and touch it.  If I’ve forgotten to plug the cable in, or it gets pulled out, I can see it… but you can’t “see” a wireless connection.

Perhaps it’s just something the general public will never know the answer to; like if babies have adrenaline rushes, or if Heller Keller had wet dreams?  And I can live with not knowing what wireless internet is also.  What I can’t live with is people “pretending” to know what’s going on in-between the routers.  I’ve Googled this question and asked bozos in person, and they all have the same answer – it sends signals of 0′s and 1′s.  Do they even listen to how retarded that sounds?  I have a very hard time believing that, almost as hard of a time as believing TBS when they say that House of Pains is America’s #1 sitcom.   Zeros and ones?  So does that mean that all around me right now the entire internet is passing through me as an intangible element?  An infinite assortment of zeros and ones just waiting to be summoned upon?  So right now, an organized binary cluster which translates into HD imagery of Ving Rhames getting corn-holed exists all around me and through me?  I guess some things are just better left unknown.










Here are some other ones that would be good to put on a sign:

  • Need spare change to help turn crack house into crack home
  • In hindsight, I didn’t really need the YouPorn premium subscription
  • Need money to buy computer for kickstarter
  • Leave it blank, and if anyone asks, say you’re saving up for a marker
  • Will accept change for money
  • Bet you can’t hit me with a quarter
  • I only need 4 more dollars to keep Netflix going this month

images (1)gumby-lg

You ever imagine what it would be like if the cartoon characters from our childhood were real people?  Fucking Gumby?  That’s the stuff horror movies are made of.  Imagine getting approached by a 6′-4″ giant green claymation with a pulse?  The Coast Guard would have to get involved.

Honestly, do you have any idea how disfigured Betty Boop’s fucking head is?  That thing is a cinder-block with eyeballs.  If she was real; we wouldn’t call it a head, we would call it a condition.  It would have some sort of a name, like Betty Boop Syndrome (or just The Boops for short), and it would be well documented in several medical journals.


Don’t even get me started on Inspector Gadget.  You know The Inspector has a weird cock under that trench coat.  Just a spring all coiled up with a boxing glove at the end of it.  If a girl goes down, he says “go, go gadget dick” then the thing uncoils like a jack-in-the-box, pops her in the chin snapping her head back like the losing end of a Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots match.  Just a bloody mess of tears, springs and well lubricated washers strewn out across his floor.  (which happens to be an eerie, checkered-red linoleum flooring installed in 1976)

I wonder if he’s got a “Go, go Gadget regular-god-damned-body-I-can-live-a-normal-life-with” function; or if it’s just all blood, tears, loneliness and solving mysteries from here-on-out for him.

You don't always have to get cute and use the hat hand gadget - your right hand is free for a ponderous chin rub

You don’t always have to get cute and use the hat-hand Gadget – your right hand is free for a ponderous chin rub

The word 'abbreviation' is setting a horrible example

 Abbreviation owns the gym; but doesn’t even lift.

Here is a common conversation at Abbreviation’s gym:

LOL:  Hey etc, here comes Abbreviation, lets all point and laugh at him!

ETC:  Yo broo, I’m so random; I didn’t even hear what you said bro.

TTYL:  Guys, guys?!?!  Did you see Abbreviation?  He got sooo much bigger, lol

LOL:  What do you want???

TTYL:  Nothing…lol

LOL:  Fucking what?!

TTYL:  Nothing, what’s wrong, what is totally wrong with you OMG LOL????  :)  :-0

OMG & LOL: Should we kick to shit out of her?


Random Facts with Reginald VelJohnson

Q:  How do you confuse a rabbi, a priest and a monk all at the same time?

A:  Streak naked while just wearing blue socks through a temple, a church, and a monastery while yelling, “Where are the microprocessors?” in Martin Sheen’s Boston accent from The Departed.

micwopwocessuhs……MICRO WHAT??? micwo praahsessuhs.  Where are the micropryyudsppruydsessoarhs?

Share Buttons

Who is G +1′ing porn?  Tweeting twat?  Facebooking facials?  Bulking emailing Brazzers?  Why are these “share” buttons below the types of videos that no one wants to share?  Are they there for adrenaline junkies who like lubing the pole with a little risk – always just one mouse slip away from disaster.  One wrong button click away from their entire  high school class knowing that they like Native American porn?  Think about how far technology has come, if you click your mouse a 1/4 inch in the wrong direction, both your math teach and your grandma will simultaneously know that you are naked and hard in front of a tiny screen.

He Knows what you've done, he knows..

He knows what you’ve done, he sees it all..

But these buttons must be there for a reason, just because I don’t click on them doesn’t mean some leather-wearing neck beard in Seattle doesn’t make-public his clandestine browser history.  I go incognito with my browser history, because I trust the incognito guy more than I trust blood.  But there may be Facebook news feeds out there that are almost 100% shared porn.  We sometimes forget that our Facebook news feed is a reflection of ourselves – it is an aggregate of all the shit people we associate with share.  Saying that Facebook sucks is like saying Google sucks because you don’t like the content of the conversations that come out of your Droid.  I feel like some people think that Zuckerberg is sitting at some station hammering out content like the fucking Wizard of Oz. Regardless, some news feeds must be up-and-down dirty.  Tits, cum, ass, cock.  Imagine seeing a high res image of a goddamn cock in your news feed?  You would fall out of your chair.  You use Instagram to follow porn stars, everyone knows that.



Our breakfast options are limited; you essentially have only (3) options before 11am:

The Cakes – pancakes, waffles, crepes, etc.

The Cheap Salty Meats – bacon, eggs, ham, and sausage

The Breads – Wonder/wheat bread, cereal, home fries

If you eat anything other than these three things, or a variation of one, people treat you like a small time criminal.  Have you ever went into a diner with friends for “morning breakfast” and tried to order a burger?  People start bugging face.  Ehh, Chris, you know it’s breakfast, why are you ordering a burger, erhehhh?  Maybe because I’m starving and I’m getting sick of eating one of the three groups for “breakfast” everyday of my life.  The people who interrogate you for ordering burgers at breakfast are the same group of idiots who think it’s OK to crack open cans of raw tuna in a public domain.

I used to hate the term brunch, but I’m beginning to think a like-minded hero created the term to keep these fucking morons at bay so people can order lunch foods before 11am.  If you call it “brunch” instead of “breakfast”, you have free reign to order french fries and steak fajitas at 10am.  Yet if it’s called “breakfast” you are only allowed to order home fries, you must be outside your mind if you think you are placing an order for french fries instead.

steak and eggsSteak-and-eggs is a loop-hole in the breakfast selection.  Since eggs are involved you are allowed a pass at a little steak.  But the steak-and-eggs steak is always garbage; it comes out looking like a female wolf’s boiled gash.  People accept this grade D piece of beef though because it’s “breakfast time”.  Imagine if you ordered a steak after 11am (no eggs involved), and they brought out the steak-and-eggs cut of meat?  You would be able to sue the kitchen – I’m not joking.

Weird Breakfast Foods

The other day I had an argument with some Italian guy at 10am in the airport.  I went to get a slice of pizza, and he presented me with the menu shown above (actual picture).  His establishment felt they needed to throw fucking egg on the slices because of the time.  What is that?  Who wants that?  Wouldn’t you think I was really creepy if I was wolfing down a slice of egg pizza for dinner?  So what makes people think it should be the only option before 10:30am?  I don’t think I’m being crazy here.  Eating egg pizza for dinner would actually be stranger than eating marinara pizza before 10:30am.  Bringing eggs out of the breakfast zone (6am – 11am) is a big no-no.  People have been to jail for less.

Last year banks made $7.1 billion on ATM fess

Last year banks made $7.1 billion on ATM fess

I feel like if I knew the actual amount of money I have spent on ATM fees over my life I would shave my head and start throwing-up into trash barrels.  If I had to guess, it would be around $3,000 [$1.75 avg ATM fee x 3 transactions per week x 52 weeks per year x 10 years of banking].  Three grand is a lot of money – that’s 150 lap dances worth of money.  Had I simply used the ATM at my own bank branch these past ten years, I could walk into a titty bar right now with the money I have saved and have a chick dance on my lap to the entire Beatles White Album……five times in a row.


That’s what I do by the way, whenever something costs money I relate it to how many $20 lap dances I could have gotten for the same amount of money.  It’s a really weird way to perceive value in currency but who am I to deny what I do?  I think girls do the same thing except they do it with shoes.  Like if a girl gets a speeding ticket for $600, they would be like fuck that’s 2 pairs of shoes; where I on the other hand would be like shit that’s 30 lap dances.  shoes

And if you are starting to think I’m crazy look at the real price of things below – and you will start to get a grip on how people are terrible at perceiving value in different things:


All “money” is at the end of the day is what we perceive it to be.  For example, $50 = $50 when buying something with a price tag.  However, if you are tipping a bouncer, (2) twenties and (1) ten may have less value than a brand new $50 depending on who you are giving it to – (even though both equal $50).  This is why I use lap dances as the basis.  I am not necessarily a horny creature always thinking about tits, it’s just a gold standard that I have been using for a while.  It keeps things in constant perspective for me.  Yes I can get a new car, but wouldn’t I really rather have fifteen-hundred lap dances and just take the train?