After a recent ecstasy and group sex binge in scandalous Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, I spent the following sunny and beautiful afternoon regaining my serotonin and my self worth watching a little league soccer match in Clearwater.
There comes a moment in every major league baseball game when some group of nerds tries to start The Wave. You’re sitting there enjoying the game, sipping on a cold $8 commemorative cup of Bud Lite, and scarfing down some peanuts when all of the sudden some buffoons want you to stand up and throw your arms in the air repeatedly for no god damn reason whatsoever.
Why are people always hating on vanilla? What gives? The general consensus is that vanilla is plain and boring. On my last date, I opted to treat this seemingly rational young lady to some Haagen-Dazs ice cream at our local heladeria. By the by, this is one of my many flawless go-to’s when it comes to courting a member of the soft-skinned gender.
Deodorant used to be enough. A splash of cologne used to lay the metaphorical steel tracks straight into Love Canal, USA. Today, we men are faced with yet another accouterment with which to mask our congenital stink. I am speaking of male body spray.
We've all seen the commercials by now.
Dear Tim @ Steve’s Word,
Love the site. You’re my favorite writer. Keep up the good work. Anyway, I’ve got a little problem, a big problem actually, that I think you are probably most apt to offering some sort of helpful advice.
An idea inspired by my erstwhile friends at Steve’s Word has prompted me to inform readers of this esteemed publication about my activities on the campaign trail here in rural South Carolina. Before I begin spinning the yarn that will undoubtedly entertain and captivate my readers, I would like to assure all of you out there that I know what you’re thinking.
If you are unfamiliar with this new breed of eatery, think prototypical trendy reasonably priced neighborhood restaurant stripped of full service. Vintage knickknacks, street signs, ornamental whatnots, and various novelty flare create what suckers may deem a colorful charm.
The Black Eyed Peas inescapable hit single "My Humps" is perhaps the single most misguided, unappealing, and by extension, worst pop song of the last God knows how many years. Either that or it's a misunderstood and subversive feminist masterpiece challenging the way modern society views and objectifies women.
IT’S FRIDAY NIGHT, YOU GUYS – THANK GOD FOR “TJ”IF!! Hey, who knows where the party’s at?? That’s okay, I was thinking about staying in, anyway… do some writing, maybe some thinking, and… some serious recuperating from THURSDAY NIGHT!!!
Come on, Eldrick.