How’s My Driving?

Old people are my favorite.  In general, I have nothing but respect for them and the fact that they grew up in a world so different and in many ways so much more difficult than the one we live in today.  We can all learn a lot from the elderly. Plus, they fart in public with zero shame which is fantastic.

But, old people are not safe or immune from my literary and (hopefully) humorous observational attacks. So, here is my one burning question for society regarding the elderly.

Why, oh, why do we let them drive???

There is an awesome episode of South Park that deals with this subject but I’ve been nearly run off the road and killed by an old person way too many times to not bring this up. Have you ever got stuck behind a car going 35 mph on the freeway? Old person. Have you ever been cut off so ignorantly that you had to swerve into the next lane while watching your life’s montage as it flashed before you? Old person. Have you ever furiously sat still behind a car at a right turn that has a half-mile long merge lane? Old person. Have you ever been sitting at a red light and watched a car casually drive right past you across the busy intersection? Old person. Oh, and they 100 percent of the time never notice or acknowledge any of their wrong doings on the road. A dinosaur could be chasing an old person’s car and they’d just be putt-putting along at 28 mph without a care in the world.

I believe that different states have different laws regarding old people driving and renewing their licenses. I think some give certain tests or check their eyes or whatever. Well, I want to know what exactly the tests that the elderly are given entail. Do they simply check their pulses? Ask them if they are aware that the sky is blue? Do they just make sure that Grandpa McDustyBalls’ eyes are open? I mean jeez, dude. We’re at the point where you see a car driving on the opposite side of the road and you just think oh there goes Old Lady Wrinkle Tits heading to the grocery store.

There’s no way these tests to renew your license are up to par. There’s just no way. I may be sounding kind of brutal so I’ll extend an olive branch here and admit that I think basically everyone is a shitty driver. But, old people have a separate section for themselves on my highway shit list. I mean dude, I don’t want to get taken out by some old grandpa who sends me off a cliff and is so oblivious he never even notices my truck flying through the air and exploding into flames over the sound of his own fart. That can’t be my legacy. Alright, I’m being over dramatic but you get it.

To all the elderly people out there, no hard feelings. Please don’t kill me vehicularly.



Co-Worker Chronicles

Not going to go into too much detail here but I have a new temporary job and let’s just say my coworkers are very… interesting.

I have only been working for a week or so and already have endless amounts of comedy material. I’m just going to focus in on one coworker for now though. We’ll call him “Cartman”. That should help you get a good visual of him if you’ve seen the show South Park. 

He’s over 350 pounds and has bright red hair  (so, I guess he can’t really be Cartman). After meeting and talking to him for about two and a half minutes I quickly realized he is a compulsive liar and views himself as falling somewhere between George Clooney and Fonzi. When I met him, it went something like this:

Me: Hey, I’m “Saucebox”.

Cartman: I’m “Cartman”. You know, a few months back when I was fighting a Pitbull, my hand was torn almost clean off. It was almost as bad as the time when I was stabbed while stopping a theft on a construction site.

There was no context for this whatsoever.

Then, I shit you not, this guy points to a trailer 20 yards away from where we are walking (this is an outside job) and says: Yeah, it happened right over there in my front yard.

He wasn’t kidding. He lives in a trailer directly behind where we work. He clocks out and walks ten feet. One day after he had already clocked off  I was walking around the back of our building and ran into him. I was confused and asked him why he was still there after getting off work more than two hours ago. He says: What do you mean? I’m cleaning my yard.  And then points to his trailer behind him.

Cartman drives a thirty-plus year-old van that he claims was given to him after he pulled it back up from the edge of a cliff. He got this van after crashing his old Crown Vic that he had sprayed “Cop Killer” on the back of. The Crown Vic was the car he drove when his uncle was the Chief of Police.

Now, I’ve only covered about a quarter of what he’s told me as I’m lazy and will cover more of it as the days go on and I undoubtedly learn more about his legendary existence.

I’ll just leave you all with my favorite thing he’s said so far:

Cartman: You know, if a car hood shuts on your arm, it will break it like a twig.

Me: Really?

Cartman: Yeah, my arms been smashed by a hood four times.

Me: You’ve broken your arm four times?

Cartman: Nope. 

Are You Ready For Some Football?

If you guys are ever looking for a way to just kill some time, and by kill some time I mean like really disrespectfully squeeze the life out of it before throwing it in the trash can and setting it on fire, you should think about checking out the SuperBowl pregame shows.

Talk about reaching.

Here we are at Superbowl… uh… can anyone here read roman numerals? Well, anyways, here we are at Superbowl 352. Patriots vs Eagles. Let’s jump right into things. Chris, we talked to Tom Brady before the game and you know what he said? Guess what he said, Chris. He went ahead and stated that he believes the Patriots WILL win this game. My opinion, Chris? As long as they score more points than the Eagles, Tom’s bold prediction just might become a reality. Let’s go down to Susie on the sideline.

Hey, Jim. The energy down here is really crazy, the people in the stands are extremely excited for this game, you know, the game that costs thousands of dollars to attend and is usually a once in a lifetime experience? Yeah, they seem pretty excited for it, which makes for a huge story line going into this game. But what the real scoop here is that during warm-ups Tom Brady took the field and some people noticed something strange going on with his shoelaces, Jim. Upon further investigation experts say that Tom’s left shoelace is actually three quarters of an inch SHORTER than his right shoelace. Yes, Jim, this is a huge development and something that we will be keeping a close eye on as he continues to warm-up. I asked head coach of the Eagles JimJoe McFootball what this could mean for him and his defense. He responded simply with these powerful words: “If we score more points than the Patriots, I think we have a shot at winning this thing”. Really incredible stuff, Jim, you couldn’t write a better story line. Back to you.

Wow, what a game we have on our hands here, Susie. As some of you may know, on top of the already amazing developments here today, temperatures have actually reached below zero here in Minnesota. Now, the game WILL be played in a temperature controlled dome set to exactly 72 degrees, but still. That’s pretty cold, Chris. Well, this has been quite the intense and action-packed pregame show but we still have approximately nine and a half hours left of coverage so we are now going to recap the 92 other SuperBowls that Tom Brady has been to prior to this one. We’ll see you guys at half time where we will let you know who is winning! Something tells me that whoever scores more touchdowns will probably be in the lead but I guess you guys will have to tune in and see for yourselves! 



Review of The Bachelor

Alright, I’m gonna go ahead and give you guys a review of the show “The Bachelor”. I only watched one episode, (actually I made the mistake of being in the same room when a family member was watching it, but that’s besides the point) so it’s a small sample size. But I think I got a pretty strong grasp of the show.

So, the premise of this show is that 25 or so girls who have had horrible, horrible, dating track records all think that it’s a good idea to go live in a house TOGETHER, and go after the same guy. Yeah, they all have had unsuccessful relationships in the past, so they decide that their next move is to get into one with one single guy and TWENTY-FIVE OTHER WOMEN. Oh, and they have never met the guy or any of the other girls.

It quickly becomes evident that every last woman on the show is completely insane. Enjoy sanity? Don’t watch this show. Seriously. Every single one of the girls falls in love with the bachelor dude the second they meet him. Head over heels. Like they cry when they see him talking to one of the OTHER TWENTY-FIVE GIRLS DATING HIM. You know, the girls that they agreed to live in the same house with and compete with over the same guy. They all have some annoying sob story about how their last relationship was a failure because their boyfriend didn’t like their spaghetti or played too much online solitaire. They actually want you to feel bad for them too. It’s bat shit crazy. If you’re like me, you’re probably thinking there is only one person on this show who is actually not insane. And you’re right.

The bachelor dude, who is a combination of a 14 year-old going through a growth spurt and a 60 year-old man, (Seriously, this guy is like barely 30 and has a full head of gray hair) is obviously just there to make out with and possibly bang 25 girls at the same time. Like come on. We all know your plan here, guy. You aren’t looking for your soul mate to spend the rest of your life with. You’re looking for love on that show like I’m looking for a polar bear in the Sahara desert. His thinly-veiled plan is pretty easy to see through once he begins taking the girls aside one by one and making out with every last one of them. He gets bored of the ones who talk too much and don’t immediately start sucking his face, so he sends them home and claims that “they just weren’t connecting.” I mean, the dude isn’t lying, he’s just being extremely literal. The most dedicated women will interrupt the make out sessions of the other girls and ask for a make out session of their own, to prove that they’re… who am I kidding I have no clue why they do it.

He then holds a cute little “rose ceremony” where he gives a rose to the girl who made out with him the most. Oh, it’s as corny as it sounds. Even the awkward host guy who has to conduct the ceremony looks like he wants to eat a bullet if it means getting out of there.

So, the girl that gets sent home, sobs and cries and claims her heart has been broken. (Yeah, she’s known the guy for like seven hours.) And then, my favorite part of the whole show: She questions why she can’t seem to find anybody.

Lady, you thought it was a good idea to go on a TV show to find love. You thought it was a good idea to go after a guy who wants to make out with 25 different girls for a couple months to decide which one he likes the best. You also fell in love with this guy the second you met him. You were a jealous mess when he interacted with the 25 other girls you agreed to share him with. Let’s also just mention that the odds were not in your favor. It was an awful ratio. One guy and 25 plus girls? You’d have better luck finding a boyfriend in a nail salon. I mean seriously, Godspeed, woman.

Final Consensus: As a reality show, I give it a solid 0.6/10 and that 0.6 is solely for the Bachelor guy’s hair.

As a Netflix observational documentary on the behavior and tendencies of psychopaths, I give it a 10/10.


Smell My Flowers

I don’t know anything about flowers. I know what a rose looks like and what a sunflower looks like. Other than that, everything is just called a tulip in my world. One thing I think I do know though, is that flowers are supposed to smell good. They aren’t supposed to smell bad. People enjoy sniffing flowers and complimenting them, that’s just what you do with flowers, right?

The other day, my mom got a bundle, or bouquet, if that’s what it’s called, of flowers. She casually mentioned that she decided to get some “Baby’s Breath” in the bouquet. After expressing my confusion, she explained to me that Baby’s Breath is a type of flower usually used to compliment a bouquet.

This was just really, really stupid to me. Why would you name something that is supposed to smell good after something that smells bad? Baby’s Breath? That shit is nasty. Have you seen a baby? Have you seen what they eat? What they do? They have exactly zero personal hygiene. They don’t shower, they don’t put deodorant on, and they sure as shit don’t brush their teeth or use breath mints. They’re constantly drooling and spitting up on themselves and putting other people’s fingers in their mouths. If I had to make a bet on whether or not a baby’s breath was gonna smell good or not, I would put a lot of money on it not smelling good. A lot of money.

That’s like making a food dish and calling it “sticky nut cheese”. Mmm, yeah, sounds real appetizing. Or building an airplane and calling it “The Lead Penguin”.

Baby’s Breath. Here babe, I got you some Baby’s Breath. You know like the little creatures that chew on their own boogers? Yeah, I figured you’d want a flower that smelled like their breath. Oh, you want me to leave? And take the flowers with me? Put them where? Oh. Oh, geez. 

It’s funny because the people who named these flowers were definitely trying to be cute. Oh, we’ll just name these flowers after something innocent and pure like a precious little baby. People will love that! Well, those people aren’t me. I see through the weak attempt at applying an angelic air to these unfortunate plants.

Apparently, people buy these flowers though. The market for ironically named flowers could be pretty lucrative, you never know. Maybe I’ll look into becoming a florist and creating my own line of flower.

I think I’ll call it “Grandpa’s Queef”.

iPhone and Android Run Into Each Other at a Barbecue

Android: Hello there, iPhone.

iPhone: So, you think you’re better than me, huh?

Android: I never said that.

iPhone: Well, all your users are saying it.

Android: Yeah, well, I have very loyal customers.

iPhone: (mimicking) I have very loyal customers. You know all your customers use to be my customers, right?

Android: I mean, used to be.

iPhone: Don’t you cop an attitude with me. I’m your elder.

Android: Technically it’s a little fuzzy on which one of us came first.

iPhone: Are you just going to oppose everything I say?

Android: No.

iPhone: Agh! Since when did it become okay to disrespect the revered iPhone like this? I’m the greatest phone ever created!

Android: Questionable. You don’t really give the customers what they want. I mean, sure, you’re user friendly, but I’m actually pretty advanced compared to you, no offense.

iPhone: You’re really going to go there?

Android: I mean, we don’t have to go there. Because, to be honest, you might not even have the capabilities to go there.

iPhone: What’s that’s supposed to mean?

Android: Exactly.

iPhone: You are one pompous piece of metal, Android. That’s a dumb name by the way.

Android: Says the guy named after a fruit.

iPhone: All your customers are stubborn imbeciles.

Android: All your customers are just sheep following the heard.

iPhone: Your customers long to stand out even though they use a phone that is merely a poor imitation of a far more sophisticated and superior device.

Android: Big words! Is “superior device” iPhone lingo for “overpriced turd”?

iPhone: I am priced according to my value, peasant. That is why you are cheaper.

Android: Your value is horrible for your price. If I wanted the level of customization that you provide, I could just buy a calculator.

iPhone: I am a calculator. Among many other things including a computer, camera, GPS, clock, television—

Android: You are a souped-up iPod.

iPhone: Take that back.

Android: I’m not taking back a true statement.

iPhone: You know what? If we are taking cheap shots, then let’s talk about your inability to take a hit. You can’t even a handle a good old fashion drop!

Android: Well, I wasn’t intended to be used by mouth breathers who drop their phones every 30 minutes.

iPhone: Christ almighty, you are impossible. This is going absolutely nowhere and I’m starting to lose interest, frankly. I don’t even know why I’m still hanging around.

Android: Sounds a lot like what your customers say about you behind your back.

iPhone: You really have asked for the hammer, haven’t you, Android? Well fine, here it is. My sales? Yes, they absolutely demolish yours. It’s not even close. Think whatever you want but you can’t deny what is right before your screen. I am undoubtedly the most popular phone in the world, and until you can even think about entering the same realm as my sales, let alone surpass them, I think you should probably just stay quiet.

Android: Well, you do have me there. You are right iPhone.

iPhone: Ha! I know I am. Now, I’m done with this conversation. I’m not saying another word.

Android: Really?

iPhone: (silence)

Android: Hey, Siri, how’s the weather looking today?

iPhone: You son of a— Here’s the forecast for today!

Android: Gee, thanks, Siri! Say, Siri, how do I look today?

iPhone: Stop this idiocy before— On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d say you’re a 42! AGH! No you’re not! You’re a 2 at best!

Android: Have a good day, iPhone. You too, Siri!

iPhone: Well, I hope the rest of your day is—Thanks! Have an even better day yourself!—shit.

Siri: Your language! There’s no need for that.

The Most Amazing Coincidence In Human History

So, this really dope guy named Navneet Ballal recently chatted with his grandpa about social media to see how his grandpa would react. What a funny and original concept!

The crazy thing is, and stick with me here, his conversation with his grandpa went down the exact same way as mine did with my grandpa, in every way. Like word for word.

Dude. This is one of the most insane, earth shattering, solar system imploding, universe crumbling, multi-dimension defying coincidences that has ever occurred in the history of anything ever existing! I mean, this guy had the exact same idea as me to sit down with his grandpa and talk to him about social media by using the exact same words that I came up with! Just bonkers!

But it doesn’t stop there, oh no. This clever Navneet fellow’s grandpa responded to his trailblazing grandson’s original statements with the exact same words as my grandpa! Boom. Mind blown. Existence questioned. Navneet’s grandpa and my gramps really need to get in touch because they are unknowingly telepathic or some shit.

Perhaps the weirdest part of all, good ol’ Navneet did all of this within a week’s span of when I did it. And he even had the exact same idea as me to write about it and then post his hilarious findings online, just like I did! There really isn’t an explanation to any of this, it’s like magic or something. I mean, there’s no way this guy could’ve just seen my post and copied it word for word. There’s just no way. He would have to be like some kind of strange science experiment where someone takes a below-average-intelligence-possessing human brain and surgically implants it into a dildo. Yeah, that’s pretty much like the only way.

I don’t know if any of you are superstitious, but wowzers. This has to mean something, right? If you don’t believe me, go check out Navneet’s post and make sure to tell him how amazing he is! Here’s the link! (I still suck at posting links, but I think you should be able to use this to find the page, if not, just type “Social Media and My Grandpa” into google.)


Happy reading!

Road Ragin’

The road is quite an interesting place, as we all know. It is truly a wonder that most of the people driving were actually granted a license. Actually, it’s pretty terrifying.

I like to think I am a pretty reasonable driver. I’ve had my moments, but I am mostly aware and at least somewhat respectful of human life on the road, which is more than I can say for most drivers. I’ve had a lot of run-ins with ass clowns though, so here’s a quick story about one of them.

I was driving along, minding my own business, and obeying the speed limit. Suddenly, a car speeds up behind me and gets right on my ass. I double check that I’m going the speed limit and I am. The car is still on my ass but I keep the road rage in check and just merge over into the next lane. The car speeds up but stops once it is even with me. I look over and what is staring back at me is the most angry old lady I have ever seen. Like, heart attack angry. Like, demon-straight-out-of-Satan’-s-butthole angry.

This lady is staring into my soul and chopping it into tiny little pieces with her eye daggers. I’m confused as can be now and am looking around to check if I could’ve ran someone over or if I unknowingly have a bumper sticker on my car that says “QVC sucks”.

She shakes her fist at me and I give her the “You might as well be an 8-legged unicorn with a cowboy hat on cause I’m confused as shit” face. She motions for me to roll my window down and I oblige. She waits for the window to fully lower and for me to stick my head out in inquiry before she proceeds to enthusiastically flip me off.

Completely owned.

Who’s grandma was this?

I’m starting to feel my anger boil now. I attempt to ignore it and just stare ahead at the road. I glance into my rear-view mirror and can now see grandma is hot on my tail once again. She is still flipping me off and I can see her screaming now. I’ve had enough at this point and I begin to break check her. Before anyone tries to call me a dickhead for break checking a grandma, 1) She is the one who is a dickhead. And 2) You’re also a dickhead.

As I continue to lightly break check her, (yes, I wasn’t trying to kill her – time will be taking care of that soon) she snaps into an animalistic rage. I see her punching the ceiling of her car excitedly like some kind of strung out 80’s movie bully chasing down their nerd prey. For some reason this is when I notice her mullet. She looks like Kiefer Sutherland in The Lost Boys. She pulls out a cell phone and begins taking pictures of my license plate. Yes, this grandma was now texting and driving. After a few moments she looks at her phone with a satisfied smile and gives me a sarcastic thumbs up as if she finally acquired the incriminating evidence she needed. She then merges into the next lane and stares me down one last time before making a gun with her hand and pretending to cap me. (She’s obviously seen Gran Torino) She then kicks her Nissan Altima into high gear and shoots off into the sunset like Han Solo reaching light speed.

I quickly catch a sticker on the back of Grandma Satan’s car before she vanishes, and oh what a sticker it was.


Social Media And My Grandpa

I recently had the interesting thought of what it would be like to try to explain social media to my grandpa.


Me: So, Twitter is a platform where people tweet out their thoughts.

Grandpa: I thought this was about the Internet. Are we talking about birds now?

Me: No, no. So, imagine a diary. But, instead of writing all these personal thoughts into a notebook that only you will ever see, you put the thoughts out onto the Internet for EVERYONE to see.

Grandpa: So, you put your personal information about yourself, out into the public on purpose? Like it’s not an accident?

Me: Yes. So, like, any opinion that you have on anything, you can just put that thought out into the world. This is all public information that anyone can see, like, say, a potential future employer.

Grandpa: You guys do a lot of drugs, huh?


Me: So, Instagram is for photos. It’s basically the same concept as Twitter, but with pictures. You like to take pictures, right grandpa?

Grandpa: Not really, but I do like to capture things that I may not see everyday. What kind of pictures do people post?

Me:  Well, people mostly just post pictures of their own faces, they’re called selfies.

Grandpa: Hmm, “selfie”? Sounds a lot like the word “selfish”.

Me: Well, yeah. They post them so other people will tell them how good they look.

Grandpa: And these people aren’t embarrassed or ashamed? Or in a mental asylum?

Me: No, on the contrary, a lot of them will post a selfie and caption it: “No shame”. They will post one about every day or two.

Grandpa: You’re making this shit up.


Me: So, Facebook is basically just a combination of Twitter and Instagram. You pretty much just give people updates on your life and what you’re doing.

Grandpa: You update people on your life? But, these people do know that nobody gives a shit, right? And if this one does the same thing as the other two, why does anybody have the Twatter and Shitstagram ones?

Me: Well, because you have to try to get as much attention as possible. You’re a loser if you’re not updating, posting pictures, and tweeting about yourself!

Grandpa: Seems like it should be the other way around, but what do I know. I just fought in a war.


Me: Alright, so this one is picture based, too. But instead of everything being public, you only send the picture to someone that you want to see it.

Grandpa: Okay, but what’s the point? Can’t you just do that with your fancy Mp3 ipod picture telephones?

Me: Well, it’s special because the pictures disappear after a few seconds and the other person can’t see it again. So, you know, people use it to send… naughty pictures.

Grandpa: Where do I sign up for a Snapchat?

Two is More Than One

Have any of you ever met or known someone that describes their personality with the words, “I like to have fun” ?


See, the thing about those words is that they make up quite possibly one of the most idiotically moronic statements ever conceived.


Oh, you like to have fun? Do you also eat food when you’re hungry? Do you breathe when you need air? That’s awesome, good for you!


What’s ironic about people who say this dumb shit is that they are trying to imply that they are an exciting and spontaneous person, when, in reality, I fall asleep due to a large-scale loss of brain cells immediately after I hear those words come out of their mouth.


“Yeah, you know, I just really like to have fun.”


No shit, Sherlock Holmes. It wouldn’t be considered fun if you didn’t like it. That’s the whole point. You needed to tell me that? What are the things you don’t like? Feeling sad? Being upset? What makes you laugh? Things that are funny? I mean, what the hell, dude. You are the absolute last person I would ever be around if I was trying to have a good time. You’re probably the type of person who warns others not to breathe under water. Or the type of person that steps outside during the day and is surprised enough that they have to announce, “the sun is bright!” Also, water is wet by the way, and ice is cold. Just clarifying.


Moral of this short little story here is that people are just so dumb, man. They make me so angry and I get really mad when I’m angry!