Hungry?

Mmm, soap. Yummy.

Very stupid post here but I just wanted to express my feelings towards surface cleaner, hand soap, and really any cleaning product in general that chooses to portray itself as absolutely delicious.

I’m not gonna name brands but I just cleaned my kitchen counters with a cleaning spray that had the scent of “Pink Grapefruit Banana Kiwi”. I don’t know about any of you guys, but let me tell you, that shit smells flat out amazing. As I cleaned, I seriously considered spraying some onto my tongue or even just screwing the cap off and taking a little sip of it. (Yeah, insert Tide pod jokes here.) The stuff is even in a see through bottle and is a radiant pinkish purple color, looking like a refreshingly delectable beverage that should be going straight down the hatch. It even says, “Non-toxic”. Seriously? Are you tempting me? Do you want me to try it? Cause I will.

I went online to search up the other “flavors” and oh, it gets much better. “Minty Lemon squeeze”. “Toasted Almond”. “Rosemary Herb Butter.” Dude, am I cleaning my counters or am I spraying this on my pasta?

And that’s just surface cleaner. Let’s not even get started with the “Winter Candy Cocoa”, “Frosted French Toast”, and “Warm Apple Pie”, hand soaps. Are you kidding me? How do you even portray warmth in a scent first of all, and second, we live in a world where soap is making me hungry. I sit on my couch sniffing my freaking hands after I go to the bathroom like some kind of narcissistic psychopath.

Dude, if I was a kid, I’d be cussing my mom out on the daily.

“You’re gonna eat soap now to clean out that filthy mouth!”

“Sweet! Can it be the Chocolate Caramel Bundt Cake this time? I ate too much of the Creme Brulee yesterday and got a stomach ache. Bitch”.

Imagine being a parent and telling your five-year-old not to eat this shit.

“Now, these are chemicals, Billy. You do not, under any circumstance, put these in your mouth.”

“Then why is it called ‘Scrum-diddly-umptious Marshmallows and Skittles cleaner?'”

“Because, well— I don’t actually know, Billy. Sounds pretty damn tasty to me.”

The actual food these products are imitating doesn’t even smell or look as good as these delicious chemicals.

All in all it’s probably some kind of conspiracy to thin out the heard. Speed up Darwinism. Next thing you know they’ll have flavored lighter fluid and candy cane car exhaust.

Moral of the story: If you eat Tide pods, you’re a dumb ass. Soap and surface cleaner is where it’s at, man.

 

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.

 

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!

 

 

 

 

Let Me Get a Bite

You’ve just slaved away cooking up a delicious meal. Or maybe you went out and bought it with your hard earned money. You sit down with said glorious meal in front of you and prepare to dig in. You’re admiring the beauty of the object of food that is about to enter your mouth and take a ride on your taste buds. Right as the consumption party is about to commence, your idiot friend or family member says,

“That looks good, let me get a bite.”

This is bullshit. What goes through people’s selfish minds to where they come to the conclusion that that statement is acceptable, and won’t cause the person they are saying it to to have an imaginary murder session in their head?

In the grand scheme of things, what is one bite of my meal going to do for you? Is it going to nourish you? No. Is one measly bite going to satisfy your craving for whatever it is that I’m eating? No, you’ll just want more, which is happening over my dead body.

So, you must be asking because you just want to taste what I have, right? Well, I was the one who made or bought it, and seeing as I didn’t make or buy it for you, or ask you to taste it, maybe you should go make or buy your own. I’m not Bobby Flay and this isn’t a charity. I don’t care about your taste buds and their well-being. If you really want to taste something of mine I can arrange that, you’ll just have to let me finish what I’m eating.

That was shitty, I know. Pun intended.

If I’m eating a burger or a burrito or a sandwich, I’ll bet money I didn’t order it with saliva that isn’t my own. (Shout out to Taco Bell, it’s complimentary there.) That’s disgusting, and since that’s the scenario your proposing, you are also disgusting.

I mean dude, why are you asking me for a bite of my food? Are you homeless? Do you need a job? I can try to talk to some friends and maybe get you an interview or something, but in the meantime I’ll give you a few bucks and you can run down to Mickey D’s and get a Happy Meal, Jesus. You can even keep the toy.

I just can’t really grasp the logic on this one. Sure, sometimes when I see someone eating something that looks good, I want to eat it too. But, I don’t ask them if I can, I think that classifies you as a bum. Like, if your friend walked into your house with an attractive girl, would you say, “hey, she looks nice, let me get a turn”? Now that I think about it, some of you probably would. (If you have, I wanna hear the story.)

Anyway, the moral of this post: If you see me eatin’ a burrito and it looks good, keep walkin’.