Thursday, October 26, 2006

"Everyday I hate myself a little more inside for liking Laguna Beach." - Kelsey

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

:: A long awaited post about nothing in particular ::

I was at work last week when I walked next door to Shoppers Drug Mart to buy something to drink, and in the case next to the Diet Coke I eventually bought, was a 4-pack of dark bottles, labelled Coca-Cola Blak.

First off, let me say to the good folks at Coca-Cola Inc., leaving out the 'c' in black? Gold. Nothing says Marketing Genius like a mispelled word. Which Harvard-grad thought up that beauty?

But let's get down to what this drink actually is. It's Coke. And coffee. I'm not kidding. That could be, possibly, the grossest combo drink since Jones Soda came out with those disgusting sounding Holiday-flavoured drinks.

But at least they did it as a joke or a novelty. They didn't actually expect people to drink the shit.

And aside from the fact that this new Coke probably tastes like the bottom of a shoe, what kind of asshole decides it's smart to toss that much caffeine into something? Wasn't coffee addictive enough in the first place?

The website says it's cola with "a coffee essence." What's next? Sprite, with essence of Extascy? Maybe Tobbacolate is coming in time for the holidays. And be sure to watch out for their newest flavour, Peaches and Crack.

Fucking ridiculous. End rant.

And now for a completely unrelated quote from Bucholtz...on the frequency of jerking off.

"I've had a few double-digit days in my time."


And speaking of ridiculous, last Friday we went to Kelsey's for a shaker. Usual crowd. Usual debauchery. Worse-than-usual hangover.

I slept in til 11:30, then went home and slept again til 3:30. Ugly, ugly day.

There were many of us who were just gongshowed, not the least of which was yours truly. Fuck I was mangled. In my defence though, we did put the drinking pants on early, watching TV at my place. And the Canucks game at Sammy J's. And then at Kelsey's. Ouch.

I don't remember the final few hours of the night, nor the ride to my parents house, or what happened when I got there - although according to Amanda I fell once or twice. Not surprised. Not at all. Good thing she was driving my car and not me. She was even nice enough to return it promptly the next morning, although by then I was still barely in driving condition.

It was a looong day.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

God I hope tomorrow goes better for me that this.

Friday, October 13, 2006

Wow, two posts on the same day (although to be fair, I did post the first one last night before I went to bed late). But I digress...

I'm sitting here kind of bored, just chillin, watching baseball and drinking a beer, and figured I'd post snippets of a couple MSN conversations I've had the past few days. Nothing groundbreakingly hilarious (and no funny slogans), but it's something to pass the time.

"I remember opening phone bills that were $268, $295...I'd pull the gun out for a short while, contemplate my suicide." - Kelsey

Bre: My midterm was early this was hard.
Nick: What class?
Bre: Oncology.
Nick: I don't even know what that word means, so you definitely did better than I would ever do.
Well, looks like it's officially Friday the 13th.

Happy Birthday dickhead.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Who says current events aren't discussed in schools anymore?

"Man, I'd love to fucking live in North Korea right now. I'd cause all kinds of international incidents and then just be like "What?! What are you gonna do assholes? We got a nuclear bomb bitches! Yeah, that's right, just sit there and take it!" - some kid, probably Grade 9 or 10, as overheard in the parking lot of a high school I was at today.

Reminds me of Denis Leary's song Asshole...

"I'm gonna wipe my mouth with the American flag and then I'm gonna toss the styrofoam container right out the side and there ain't a God damned thing anybody can do about it.

You know why? Because we got the bombs, that's why.

Two words. Nuclear fucking weapons, okay?! Russia, Germany, Romania - they can have all the Democracy they want. They can have a big democracy cake-walk right through the middle of Tiananmen square and it won't make a lick of difference because we've got the bombs, okay?!"

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

:: ya doin'? ::

So most of us probably saw that Family Guy rerun last week - or at least you're familiar with it. (If you're not a FG fan at all, then you can go straight to hell).

It's the episode where Peter is ordered by his work to go to that female sensitivity camp, and essentially returns a week later without his dick.

The funniest scene is a few seconds later, when the newly "sensitive" Peter is in a bubble bath, and calls Quagmire for absolutely no reason. You know, just to chat.

"So Quagmire," Peter says softly.
"Whatcha thinking about?"

Quagmire is understandably disgusted and confused. Rightfully so. And hangs up the god damn phone.

The last, I dunno, year or so, I've felt the same fucking way when a certain person calls me. (And don't worry, it's none of you regular blog-readers.)

Now, don't get me wrong, I like this guy a lot - one of my good buds, but enough is enough. Yes, I know I don't call you that much, nor even return all my messages. Ask around dude, it ain't nothing new. And you aren't the only one to ever get annoyed by it. But I don't need to be badgered by a guy about it.

I actually got this today on msn (and in the past):

"Hey, you there?"
"Dude, don't you ever check your messages?"
"Are you mad at me or something?"

Are. you. fucking. kidding. me?.


I can't take it anymore. I've had it.

And on the rare occasion we're actually talking, it's either yakkin about nothing, or you complaining we never hang out, etc etc.. If I wanted that kind of nagging and guilt trips, I'd get a fucking girlfriend.

At least that kind of nagging comes with blowjobs.

I will allow for the slim fact that you just don't know how guys relationships work. We drink beer. We watch sports. We go to bars. We hang out and watch reruns of King of Queens while drinking beer and thinking about sports.

We do not call just to chat - unless the two friends live far away and don't talk to see each other much. In that case, calling just to catch up is fine. I have friends from school I rarely see, so I have no problem if, on a rare occasion, I talk to Mike or Dustin for a while.

But we live 10 minutes away. We have no catching up to do because my life is always the same - work, baseball, drinkin' beer, sleeping. Yours is similarly uniform, although not as exciting, if I may be the judge of such things (and I may be).

So let me break it down for ya. Here are the following acceptable reasons guys call each other.

1. Wanting to know where and when the drinking/party/hockey game/other event is about to occur. Making plans is perfectly fine.

2. "Wanna go to the peelers right now?"

3. Your car is dead/stolen etc somewhere and you need a ride or a jump or something.

4. You just saw a midget getting attacked by pigeons in the mall parking lot and you just have to tell somebody.

5. You just found a keg of beer.

6. "Seriously dude, we're going to the peelers like now! Get your coat!"

7. You've somehow maimed yourself and need a ride to the hospital.

8. It's 10:52 and you desperately need a lift to the beer store immediately.

9. You need to borrow money. (Acceptable question, but the answer's probably no).

10. You need a hand moving furniture or something else that takes at least two guys.

I think that's about it. You'll notice no sign of the phrases "just to chat", "how are you feeling?", or "Are you upset?"

There's a reason for that guys. It's cuz we have balls.

Next time one of these little "chats" happens I swear to God I'm just going to pull a Quagmire and hang up the god damn phone, and not answer it again until you've spent at least 2 weeks doing nothing but listen to Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden, fucked two chicks, dranked six bottles of Jack and 172 beers, all while watching porn and thinking about football.

And have learned proper god-damn phone ettiquette for guys.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

From the "Get a real fucking job" department...

One small mistake for man, one giant waste of time and money for mankind

No cure for cancer yet, but they're worried about fucking grammar. Unbelievable.