this is my single greatest post EVER /sarcasm

Today I happened across a website that provides random writing prompts. So I’ll be using some of those to write today’s blog.

"If you could be someone else, who would you be?  Why?"

I’d be Neil Patrick Harris. That man makes being gay cool. Plus he’s hot. I want to be hot. Being hot is awesome. And he can sing. I wish I could sing like that man. Seriously, he’s hilarious too. Oh, and he has babies. Babies are awesome (and delicious).

"If I were a superhero, I would be..."

I’d be the Naked Shadow, spreading my own brand of naked justice across the city, and beating up nuns every chance I get.

"You have just been paroled from prison.  Tell what happens next."

I become the Naked Shadow. Duh.

"If I were President of the USA I would..."

Gay marriage.  I’d push for it to be legalized. In fact, equal rights for everyone. I’d also press hard for a drug policy similar to Portugal. At the very least I’d get marijuana legalized and have it regulated like alcohol.

Oh and I’d find a way to make Tom Cruise illegal.

"A flying saucer has been sighted over your town. You have never believed in flying saucers, but then you see it for yourself and...What happens next?"

I pull out my bazooka and blow that shit up. The aliens beam out at the last second and ask me WTF my problem is. I tell them I was bored and ask if they wanna get a drink. They say yeah, and the next morning we all wake up naked in a hotel room in Amsterdam with three midgets and an assortment of cup cakes.

“Undefined”

Just like your mother’s uterus.

"My grandmother is special because..."

Her hair comes off in a strong breeze.

"You awake from a nap only to discover you are 80 years old.  Describe what happens next."

Wonder how the fuck I got younger.

"She seemed like such a sweet old lady. Who would ever believe that she was really . . ."

A man. Though that would explain why that bitch was so hurt when I cunt-punted her.

"Would you eat a bowl of live crickets for $40,000?  Explain why or why not?"

Probably. Cook them and I’d do it for free. It’s a staple of millions (if not billions) of people’s diets. There has to be something to it.

“Write about a time you did something that made you feel good, and why it made you feel that way.”

… I’m not sure I wanna write about that stuff on this blog… I have family members who read this.

"You are the last surviving member of the human race.  What do you do?"

Masturbate. A LOT.

Okay, I’m done with that. I know, it’s a weak post. Suck it up girls. Here’s a comic. It’s shittier than normal, but I’m still learning how to use this thing.

my cat watches me in the shower...

This week’s blog is brought to you by the letter F for FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING MUSIC NAZIS!!!!!!!

I know what you're thinking. "Mike, isn't calling them Nazis a bit harsh?" well the answer is no. No it is not. These are people who act like their choice in music is the only correct music, and all other music should be destroyed in a horrible fashion, or experimented on, in order to further their own master race of music.

Here's the thing (and if I have to repeat myself, it will be accompanied by a swift kick to the nuts/vag), everyone has different taste in music. While I will concede that here is a fairly set definition for what is "classically good", what makes any kind of music truly good is people's ability to enjoy it. Look at Ke$he for example. From the stand point of being a good singer, she fails miserably. That woman could not carry a tune if she had a bucket and a forklift. But despite that, a lot of people really enjoy her music. It is something that can get people moving and make them feel some kind of emotion. Am I saying everyone has to like it? No, I'm not saying that at all. But you know who is passing along a message similar to that? The music Nazis. They'll claim that because ke$ha music isn't "good" that people shouldn't enjoy it.

I'm sure I'll get shit from people saying things like "Mike, you're a hypocrite. You always talk about how you hate country and rap, and you constantly talk about the twisted ways in which you will kill Justin Beiber."

Let's look at those two claims separately. Yes I hate most rap and country, but this doesn't mean I want to eradicate those particular forms off the face of the planet, and I really don't care if other people enjoy/listen to them. And as for Justin Beiber, that has nothing to do with music. I just feel he is a pretentious little douche who stole the fashion stylings of lesbians across the world (and Daniel), and he needs to be punished for that. Seriously that little twat is 16 years old. He/she DOES NOT need a film made about his/her life when he/she has barely even had one at this point.

But I digress; there is NO reason to shit on people for their taste in music. If you think yourself so superior just because you think you have better taste, or if you try telling someone that they shouldn't enjoy some kind of music, I will come for you. I will take your music collection, and I will insert it into a very dark place, in the most uncomfortable way possible.

Because I love you Starr.

So there I was, two conflicting decisions staring each other in the face like two infants right before they fight to the death.

You see, I needed to catch the bus into town so I could buy food stuffs, and I only had 10 minutes to catch the bus. Now that is just enough time to get to the stop, and not have to worry about the bus coming a minute or two early. But here was the catch. I had to pee. BADLY. we're talking, this would have been a 2 minute pee at least.

And so I was bitch slapped with a horrifying decision. Satisfy my bladder and risk missing the bus forcing me to catch another bus in an hour, or leave now to catch the bus, thus placating my stomach more quickly but risking loss of bladder control before reaching the store bathroom.  Had this taken place earlier in the day, this decision would have been easy, i would choose too pee. But alas, there was another catch. A catch upon catch. A double catch. You see, the next bus was the 2:48 bus (one bus an hour), which meant my bus home, rather than being at 22 minutes after the hour, would instead be at 3:45! The 3 o’clock hour is when they make a time change for the evening routes. Rather than just having to wait 1 hour longer, I’d have to wait an hour and a half if I chose to open the floodgates and missed my bus.

Which one to choose? My bladder was like a balloon filled too much, just a little pressure away from bursting. At the same time, my stomach was like a catholic priest who hadn’t raped a little boy in 6 whole hours. It was willing to kill to get what it wanted.

I turned to my cats for guidance, but they had none. They simply looked at me mockingly, knowing the inner turmoil I was suffering through. I glance to the bathroom, then to my front door, and finally to my phone to check the time. I had to choose.

Well I grab my bag, and start heading to the bus stop. It was a good thing I left when I did because literally the moment I got to the bus stop, I saw the bus come over the hill. 2 minutes early. A couple minutes later I got to Albertsons and I walked to the bathroom (if I had ran, I would have peed my pants).

That period where I had to choose was easily the longest 30 seconds of my life.

Now that I’ve assaulted you all with imagery of my bathroom business, I’ll give you a comic I made on my iPod in 60 seconds. CTVF

someone just punch him in the face already.

so yesterdays post left me feeling disappointed. so I'm giving you a better one.

There I was at Albertsons when I see this woman at the cereal aisle. She picks up a box of. Cereal, walks down the aisle, then she picks up a bag of the generic brand and puts down the box on the fucking ground. This bitch couldn't take the 5 seconds it would have taken to put it back in its proper spot.

So of course, when I was checking out, this bitch got in line behind me in the express lane. I see her count her items, and realize that she had too many items. So what does she do? She takes a carton of orange juice out of her cart AND PUT IT ON THE SHELF AROUND THE CORNER OF THE CONVEYOR BELT!!!

The cashier sees this and asks the woman to put it back where it belongs. I swear to FSM that this next part is true. She looks the cashier in the eye and says "that's your job. I shouldn't have to do your work for you just because you're lazy."

This is where I pipe in. I can't remember exactly what I said, but it was something to the effect of her being a fat lazy bitch who wasn't worth the price of the Wal-Mart atrocity that she was wearing (she was actually quite skinny, but that wasn't the point).

I seriously can't comprehend the rationale behind this level of laziness. Like leaving your cart in the middle of the parking lot, when a cart return is 20 feet away. Can people really not spare an extra 30 second of their life to be considerate of others? I see crap like that and I just want to start spleen-stabbing people. I honestly almost kicked that woman with the juice and cereal right in her hatchet wound.

Fuck... I don't get people sometimes. I'm gonna go punch some baby koalas until I feel better.

have a comic... CTVF

Kitten genocide

There are certain things you just don't talk to people about. This can be for various reasons, but it's usually because it could piss certain people off. For me, one of the biggest is my zombie survival plan.

Now I'm fully aware that zombies aren't real. For the most part my plan is just a joke, done for fun. But don't let that fool you for even a second, this list was written as if they are real (because... Well... You can't be too careful). I've thought out every major detail needed to ensure survival for myself and about 20 others. Now why don't I share this with people? Those 20 others are why.

I'm more than happy to share broad details of my plan (though never specific locations) with other people, but NEVER who I plan to have in my survival group. Thing is, I have lots of friends but only a handful of them are on the list. It's nothing personal to those who I don't have on it, but this plan is designed to maximize my chances of survival.

My list has about a dozen people on it who bring some kind of skill to the table to help with survival, or have a wide enough spread of skills to stay useful. Each of those 12 can bring ONE person with them of their choosing, though I reserve the right to veto their choice. Why would I veto their choice? Because the biggest factor in who I chose (aside from skill set) is how well these people can work together. Not just whether they like each other, but if they can put aside personal qualms for the good of the group. Nothing will result in our asses getting munched faster than some dumb fuck getting pissed over something petty argument, and missing a zombie who then bites other group members.

As of right now only a couple of the people I've picked know that they've been picked. I REALLY don't want other people to find out because nothing can kill a friendship like finding out the other person is useful/stable enough to be in a survival group.

Should I ever see the signs of a stage three outbreak starting, I'll contact all these people and tell them the situation. I'll also be doing this if I foresee a tea party uprising, because to be entirely frank, those assholes scare me a lot more than zombies.

and now, a comic. CTVF bitches