31 December, 2009

Introducing Ask Clover

Happy New Years jerks. I am going to try a little something called Ask Clover, it is like Dear Abby only you are asking a young good looking person, and what you are getting is an answer equivalent to a violent punch in the face. I don't even know why I bothered telling you, I'm going to do it anyways; whoever has the blog makes the rules after all.

While trolling for questions on forums, (because for some reason nobody wants my advice and thus doesn't ask me much else other than to pass the salt) I came upon this little gem that I SWEAR to you, I did not make up or alter in any way. Warning: this question defies all logic and is actually, actually, the most fucking ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I will now cut and paste to support its authenticity.

Beginning (So you know where the idiocy starts)

Only answer if you know about this. No rude answers or really j*erky answers
I really believe spells can work and I really want to do spells for what I am asking. But I want a spell where I dont need candles or any props. Thanks.

(1) Is there a spell I can use to make my cousins forget about an email I sent them and we can be on good terms again. One of my male cousins is 58 but having sex with a 32 year old and this is hurting his daughter. I got mad at him and had a fight about this with him and then involved his oldest brother and his sister-in-law (his middle brothers wife). I want to make them forget about this email. YES I DID APOLOGIZE BUT I WANT TO DO A SPELL TO MAKE SURE EVERYTHING IS FINE

(2) Is there a spell where I can make this slut stay in her homeland and not come back and stay out of my cousins life.

(3) Is there a spell that I can use on my cousin to hire me in his firm?

(4) Is there a spell that I can use on my cousin to stop his sex addiction? He is obsessed with sex and I think it is ruining his life and it could jeopardise his career - he owns a company with his other brothers but this sex addiction will ruin his career and family life

Thanks


End (It is over... I'm sorry)


I just want to point out I don’t even know what to say, still. I will try to answer this question as seriously as she asked it.

Do you have a phone? Pick it up. Call Bette Midler. Now, from what I understand, Bette was one of the most powerful witches in that movie with Carrie Bradshaw, about the witches. Even though I don’t condone eating children, most of them are unattractive and this way I can finally have my McDonalds dinners in peace without threat of nose pickers and that one kid who always drops a load in his pants while playing in the ball pit. And his mother, god bless her, ignores him, the yelling, the load, and smell all the while I am trying to enjoy a nice meal sans butt-ugly kids running around like warthogs.

1) Go over to your cousin’s house, walk up to him and use the age old phrase that makes everyone drop to the ground and wake up with no memory: “Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?”
2) When you say “homeland” you make it seem like she’s not from here. In that case a little anonymous tip to the homeland security office warning them of her insider trading, homemade meth lab, child porn, or assassination plans should do the trick. In case you’re just a moron and meant “homeland” like… house, then just leave Viagra pills on the counter, ED pamphlets on the table, and a “Homosexual’s guide to converting to women” on the night stand.
3) Send in a resume?
4) Lace the inside of his blow up doll with tacks. I don’t know a more effective way. The only thing the sex addiction will hurt is his wiener when it gets chaffed; otherwise you’re seriously making up things in your head.

You’re welcome.




29 December, 2009

Parking lot Pandemonium

Let me break it down for you, picture this:

It's December 29th, a few days after Xmas and you would assume the fruit and nut cake induced chaos has gone down a little. Granted people are still returning all their crap and whatever, and it comes down to just how many Tickle-Me-Elmos you really need. So being somewhat of a mall connoisseur I enjoy hunting for bargains and red tags just as much as the next free-from-debt 23 year old (and sometimes the in debt ones, let’s not judge). I frequent my mall often, never paying full price for fear it is just another fat-free yogurt I have taken out of my fridge at home and into my Visa card.

I have hot Upper Canada mall date plans tomorrow so I decided to brave the traffic and proverbial asphalt jungle of metal and painted yellow lines to go today to the Vaughan Mills Mall, which is like your 18 year old son’s illegally suped up V-Dub with all the stupid extras (apparently it makes girls take off their pants faster), to the practical, stylish Upper Canada Mall Camry which has all the class and none of the guidos (that’s a selling feature).

I get there and the main road veins to the parking lot looked like an Italian bomb went off, spraying Sicilian shrapnel with ridiculously bad hairdos and spray tans. After being cut off by at least three Cascada pumped vehicles, I was turning right into the main road leaving to the parking lot, waiting for cars to make space for me. Before I say this next part just let me make it clear that I have a vast array of multicultural friends, and I am not prejudice towards any of them because frankly I already know the Irish are at the top and I don’t have to think beyond that.

So some car is coming and is slowing down and has its blinker on to turn right, into the road I’m coming from. Perfect! I start to go, and do my fucking eyes deceive me?! No, they do not because what do you know, two brown guys in their 90’s cavalier decide to just keep driving straight and honk at me like I owe them money. As they are driving by the passenger gives me like a “What the fuck are you doing asshat” kind of look, and I am trying to make a “your blinker was on asshole” –face and motions that came out and must have looked like I was miming churning butter while on the phone. So I pull out right after him and he has his blinker on STILL!!! We pass two more roads where the normal public would assume that he was going to turn right, WRONG AGAIN IDIOT, he did not. Then oh my, what is this, he must have realized his blinker was on and turned it off. Oh to be a fly on that car wall. If I was any less of a lady I would have followed that guy and stuck his tires.

And if this was GTA Vice City I would have crashed my red Corolla into them, got out and opened their car door, grabbing the driver and repeatedly punching him in the face with my practical iron knuckles. When the ambulance comes I will flamethrower the EMS team, steal the ambulance and run over the passenger. And people say video games beget violence, they’re off their nut, assholes.

28 December, 2009

Stuff that bugs me

Ok so basically I have a long list of things that bug me; little things, big things... all sorts of things. This list will be funny but also TRUE therefore making me shake my head in confusion that these things actually are happening.

Not calling when they say they will

Seriously people. This isn’t hard. If you say you will call me tonight, I expect a call. This isn’t something you say in passing by, ‘give you a call sometime!’ which I know most of you do, thinking this is the easiest way to get rid of this asshole before he tries to invite me to another one of his cat’s birthday parties. If you have no intention of calling me, you say ‘oh look, I have to be going now’, or ‘looks I’m being called for another secret mission’ which will be more believable then “I’ll give you a call”... friggin liar. Case in point: if you aren't going to call, don’t say that shit, or I will spend another night home alone watching Ally McBeal reruns while waiting for you to call so I can tell you I’m busy so you will think I’m cool and popular. Simple.

Little kids

Ok so I don’t hate kids, but I was in Costco yesterday and was bombarded in the book aisle with a barrage of annoying brats. Parents who are carting these kids around in shopping buggies like puppies while ‘standing firm’ like her therapist suggested while her kid throws a fit because she won’t buy him the new Martha Stewart book he randomly found, picked up and decided he wanted, because the picture on the front looks like daddy’s secretary that comes over and brings him toys on Tuesdays while mommy vists ‘Uncle’ Bill. If your kid constantly is pressing the button on a plastic Xmas tree that sings Jingle Bells, and you are not slapping that child in the face, especially while I’m trying or get my read on with the new Twilight book so I don’t have to pay for it, that logic is retarded. Kids should not be in stores touching things. Then I have to touch whatever their snot encrusted fingers have molested while their other hand is up their nose picking lint from their brain. If I'm trying to walk down an aisle and I have to kick 3 kids out from under my legs, that is 3 too many and 3 times more fun than I would have at home stalking and ganking Alliance assholes on Warcraft. Well, maybe the same amount of fun.

Women Drivers.. and Men Drivers.

I understand I’m a woman, and someone else mentioned this too, but some women are fucking insane. Ok some men are too. There’s two kinds of drivers: “I have no idea where I’m going so I’m going to slow down/stop/fix my hair in the mirror/look for that lifesaver I just dropped in the middle of a parking lot or road. Seriously bitch, you can’t drive in the middle of the fucking parking lot, there’s one side for going up and one side forgoing down. Then when you stop in the middle with your blinker on waiting for a guy who hasn’t even got to his car yet, while I can’t get around you or back up because you have created a toxic metal backlog, there is an issue here. Guys are a pain in the ass too. I’m trying to drive, you decide to drive in the lane that is ending, 20 meters behind us was a sign that said it was ending. You decide to drive up beside me slowly while the lane ends, now driving on the shoulder with your blinker on giving me the finger while I waited in the car line up to get here 6 minutes ago... fuck you. You wait in the back of the line like everyone else. Ohh, never mind, I see you drive a Sebring convertible. You must be filthy rich, in a midlife crisis, and deserve a spot because you piss excellence in the mornings. Seriously... a Sebring? I should be pushing you off the road in my Toyota you dumb fuck, you don’t have a privilege to act like a dumbfuck, let alone be one beside my car. A convertible Sebring with a licence plate that should have read “when I started to get bald and fat I couldn’t afford a real convertible, and all my wife would let me pick was this light blue longass fucking car. It has no roof therefore I'm awesome.” Negative.

Mac Users

That’s right I said it. You guys are stupid. You buy overpriced computers that don’t even stand up to performance of their PC price equivalents. ‘That Mac ad on Tv sure made it look like people who buy Apple products are cool and hip! Maybe I should buy one! Who cares I’m buying into an image that doesn’t even make sense!’ The IPhone doesn’t even have a video camera!?!?! There were phones for a fraction of that price with a video camera 3 years ago! 2 mega pixels?! The Nokia N95 had 8! EIGHT! And that was out a year before IPhone, and its predecessor had 5! Which was out 2 years before that. You are not hip for paying $100 for an Ipod then another brand of MP3 player with the same specs. Did you know we have 80 Ipods return for servicing a WEEK? Do you know how many times that shit breaks? How do you feel whole as a person after bending over for the $40 Ipod belt clip that you just bought? Many of Mac’s computers can’t even be upgraded, and technology is only new for at most 6-8 months. “Macs never crash or get viruses!” You’re an idiot, please do some research. 99% of Windows crashes are based from badly coded third party software, and has nothing to do with Windows. 2% of the computer using population use Macs... why would anyone bother to go through the trouble of making and implementing a virus to something no one uses. Also, hello it’s called Intel; it’s the best in the world. You finally realize using your own parts maybe not the best idea.

Annoying Kiosk people at malls

I swear to Jesus if you people don’t leave me alone I will knock all the shit off your rolling cart. If I’m walking by in the middle of a conversation, the best thing that could happen to me at that moment would be to be interrupted to be asked if I want to try their hair straightener when my hair is already straight. What the hell is the point of that? Or if my hair is curly... Why do I want one chunk straight? I don’t, because if I wanted it straight I would have done it myself. I was at the mall my friend and I were hijacked by some sleazy Israeli guy trying to sell us sea salt moisturizer. Every time we tried to leave he would yell at us to come back, and say stuff like “I said it would only take two minutes... try this” while putting a gob of shit on her palm. Listen asshole, if I wanted to try your stupid product I would have stopped here on my own accord, which I did not. I’m sorry you failed out of school to end up as a sample guy for some lame ass girdle for old women company. If I wanted to try out the girdles I would order them online because it is too embarrassing of a chance to take to be seen near you right now with your slicked back hair and orangle-glo uneven spray-on tan in December. And to those bitches with the hair straightener: if I said no once,I meant it. When I walk by again I am not that persons evil doppelganger twin, I am the same god damned person who said no last time. “Oh ho ho, ha ha, maybe I WILL try some of your ceramic straightener, what’s that you say? You say it costs $400? What a deal.”

Lunchables

You heard me. I hate that Oscar Mayer asshole. Did you know they fill those gut tubes with mechanically separated meats? Do you know what that is? Basically they take the good meat like the butt, and thigh area and sell that shit then they take all the leftovers which might be pigs feet, chicken beaks, cow ears, tails, leftover pieces of meat that fell out of the dead cow onto the floor that is swept up by Jose the janitor and dumped into a bucket. Then that nasty paste is squeeze into hot dogs; a la Oscar Mayer and his wieners. What’s funny is I’m eating a hot dog right now but what is not allowing me to throw it up is the fact that they aren't miniature. Miniature things are creepy, haven’t you seen CSI? Also those little pack of raisins you get in there is moms way of flipping you the bird to ensure you have a crappy recess while everyone else’s moms loved them enough to put Fruit by the Foot in there for them. “Hey Billy, you want to come and pla--- Wait a minute are those fucking RAISINS?! Get out of here.”And that’s how Billy was extradited from the playground and grew up to be a 43 year old assistant supervisor-in-training at Subway as a Sandwich Artist while his 16 year old boss squeezes his pimples in the back. PS: The juice they give you in those things is never enough, who is their target market? Newborn babies? Pack a Red Bull in that shit and you guarantee your kid will be punching lunch recess supervisors and starting mutinies against lunchroom helpers in no time. I’m sending this to Kraft, don’t thank me.

Warcraft VS. Second Life: Nerd Showdown

A long, long time ago in a time where Mountain Dew only came in one flavour, and Bawls was just a sparkle in some guy’s eye, there were nerds. I’m talking traditional, long before ThinkGeek and J!nx: all-male,-coke-bottle-glasses,-acne-and-suspenders-type nerds. The nerds that get shoved into lockers, wedgied, and were an eyesore to all they met. Then through the magic of contacts and Proactiv, these nerds evolved into a more socially acceptable breed, some of this new breed even included… women.

Now, we see nerds as highly camouflaged; hiding out in the back of web forums, disguising themselves as someone who has kissed someone other then their great Aunt Marg, when in actuality they are still nerds. Some nerds even have boyfriends or girlfriends… or both (who am I to judge, really?). The point is that nerds have evolved once more to good looking men and women of all living conditions (parents basement or their own), and quite possibly with a social life of sorts and even a job or two.

The reason I bring this up is to explain that with the onslaught of nerd games available, even someone as cool and good looking as YOU can be one. Now I know what you’re thinking, “that would never be me”… Or would it??!!11@1? I know some of you have thought about it. Its ok I won’t tell anybody, everyone goes through an experimental period in their life. But if you do decide to get your feet wet into the cool, sweet embrace of nerdom, I wanted to make sure you’re educated, get the right information, and make the decision for YOU not for anyone else, you smooth operator, you. I’ll be pitting up two of the infamous nerd games ever: Second Life by Linden Labs, and World of Warcraft by Blizzard Entertainment.

The first game we will look at is Second Life by Linden Labs… Oops, I just called it a game. That’s your first mistake, call this a game, and you will be virtually beaten by SL fanatics who will explain to you that Second Life is a whole other life. A… second life, if you will. It’s basically a huge world that is created, maintained, and policed by other nerds like you. They spend 8 hours making a virtual guitar, 3 hours searching for one outfit, and 15 hours trying to get the hell off of the newbie orientation tutorial island. Get this; they have their own fake currency, kind of like Canada only its worth more in real life. They’re called Linden dollars, and a bunch of them is equal to one real American dollar, which means you can buy Linden dollars with real money to buy fake crap in the world. Confused? Tell me about it. People can collect Linden dollars in Second Life, and trade them in for cold, hard, American cash. There are no goals, no score, and no winning; in essence it’s Pee Wee hockey only for nerds. You can buy houses, own land, and make your avatar just as hot as you would want to look in real life, but don’t.

Second up is Warcraft, don’t lie; I know you’ve downloaded the free 10 day trial. Just like Second Life, you can create and customize your character to make it represent who you want to be in real life. Only you’re not really a 6 foot tall blonde babe, you’re a 4 foot tall gnome with super powers- actually- you’re not really that, you’re a disgusting green ogre with no dental plan. You pick from two sides, Alliance (the pussy ‘good guys’) or Horde (the ‘bad guys’ who are way sweeter to play, and less whiney). Each side has a couple of different races: cows, ogres, elves, humans and trolls to name just some. Each one you pick you can choose a class; for example you can have magic powers, heal other peeps, or just be a typical bad ass and Chris Brown all your enemies with different weapons. Unlike Second Life, there are goals, and each quest you complete brings you money, weapons, reputation, and the satisfaction that you just spent 5 hours in a dungeon with 4 other sweaty nerds via Ventrilo, a program that lets you actually talk to these people in real time. There is a whole economy present, with real time market fluctuations and supply and demand.

Now that you know the basics of both, it’s time to play Nerd Showdown, where I will pick 3 main elements these games have and tell you which one has the best.

Pedophiles

Man oh man, you can’t have a real game without these guys. Without pedophiles, what would Hilary Clinton even talk about? In Warcraft they are existent, but only as attention starved Texan’s that will trade you 60 Void Crystals to /flirt with him… Maybe pretend to be his sexy troll girlfriend. However, in Second Life pedophiles are all up on that like 15 year old girls and blue eye shadow. They have hundreds of sketchy places that prey on kids, and because you can create avatars that look like children, you can bet all the Michael Jackson’s will be at that playground loosing their puppies like nobody’s business. I’m declaring Second Life the Pedophile winner.

Chance you can be cool

For everyone who has ever started playing Warcraft, you look up to the level 80’s like they were your Jesus. They give you bread and fish, clothing, help fight all the bad people with morals that are different then yours… When you finally get to be the highest level there is such a power trip, because all those guys picked last in gym now can be the cool kids in Warcraft. In Second Life you can make real money, what’s better than that? Oh wait, did I mention you had to have virtual pretend sex with a super creepy man you met in Lego Land while wearing a virtual dong he gave you? I hope it was worth the 16 Linden dollars, pervert. Warcraft is declared the winner here.

Educational Value

Money is a very important aspect of both these worlds, and having enough of it to sustain your weird habits is like an art form. Better start saving now, because you need 600 gold pieces to be able to fly a giant bat, so better cut down on the virtual booze here, David Hasselhoff. Playing the Auction House like Wall Street teaches you mad skillz that you need in the real world. Plus everyone needs to know how to take out creepy people with a huge-ass sword. In Second Life you have less of a world economy but an equal chance you bought your in-world dollars like in Warcraft from Korea like a sucker. Second Life can teach you about places in the world, you can host and attend virtual seminars, educational institutions, professional lectures, and art galleries from all over the world you wouldn’t be able to see otherwise. But I still think Second Lifers need to work on their real life, plus I like Warcraft better so I declare World of Warcraft the best nerd game you can play for nerd veterans and nerd n00bs. For the Horde, Bitches!

Fashion Faux-Pas: Stuff You Look Ugly Wearing

I’m no runway model from Paris (although don’t say that to my face), but I still know what looks ugly from what doesn’t. I will be reviewing current “fashion trends” that grind my gears, so you just take a seat, kick back and listen. And remember, don’t hate, appreciate.


White Hair

Remember in kindergarten we learned our colours, and when we used paint to make gigantic blobs in different colours and labeled them in their corresponding names? Remember how you learned the differences between colours like blue, and green, and red? Well I’m just curious what fucking grade some of these kids got in kindergarten when they couldn’t establish white from yellow. In case you’re wondering, white hair is not blonde, white hair is your grandma. When some of these girls dye their hair blonde, what goes through their mind? “Hmm, I wonder which box of hair dye I should buy… golden-sun blonde, ash-blonde, or Great Grandma Gertrude white-as-hell?” You people look ridiculous, everyone knows that shit is not natural, and I really do appreciate your hella-black roots coming in and staring me down like Chuck Norris would if you tell him he kicks like a slice of Jell-O, making it a really awkward event looking at you. Let me give you some fucking advice: I’m not sure if you want people to know you dye your hair, but the skunk tail of root is a tell-a-tale giveaway. Another tip: if you put your hair up in a ponytail and it cracks off, you should be letting up on the peroxide, and maybe switching to a more natural colour, like Screaming Banshee Purple. Jesus, you might as well wear a sign that says “I’m Easy”, but don’t even bother because you do have white hair in your early 20’s. Don’t you worry I’m sure geriatrics will find you attractive, I’ll post the number to the old folks home just in case ;) 905-555-ugly


Tights sans Pants


I know most of you won’t know what sans means, it means without. When you wear no pants, that doesn’t mean you are sexy, that means you are committing a felony. Tights are not a pants substitute, they are not the soya-milk of pants, and they don’t come in a variety of delicious and protein rich alternatives. When you are walking and it looks like your ass is nom nom nom-ing your pants, this means that A) You should be wearing pants B) your pant replacements are way too tight and C) it makes your ass look bigger, not better. I totally get if you had a late night, woke up in someone else’s house, and couldn’t find your pants, forcing you to come to school in pseudo hallway walk of shame. I understand if your skirt or shorts (heaven forbid you’re wearing shorts over these things) ripped on the bus, or you sat in mustard/gum/the brown stuff sticking to the edge of the bus seats, and you feel that it is your civil duty to rid yourself of the violating clothing. But what I don’t get is you waking up in the morning saying, “God knows that I don’t need to wear pants today, because my ass looks da bomb.” It doesn’t, please stop; Cottage cheese style asses are never in fashion. As a side note, stop wearing your salt stained, ugly winter boots with them in the summertime! It doesn’t make sense! Are you hot or are you cold? Make up your freaking mind!


Blind Dressers


I’m not leaving men out of this. Listen, I know you want to pull off a casual, half Johnny Depp and half Matthew Machoney, I just woke up kind of look. I understand that maybe an iron isn’t exactly the best idea when your motor skills are not in regular attendance in the mornings. Sometimes I even understand that people DO sleep in their clothes after homemade tequila poppers and jalapeƱo pepper eating contests the night before. What I don’t get is why you don’t get up and put something else on before you come into a populated area. If everything you own is wrinkly then throw them in the god damned dryer for 5 minute! Also, I understand the need to be labeled the ‘cool’, ‘dirt-off-the-shoulder’ guy who doesn’t care what people think about him, but let’s be serious here… if you are wearing a purple shirt, blue pants, green shoes, a red sweater and a yellow hat I want to know where the Pride parade is at. Bottom line: if you look like you got dressed in the dark, that’s not ‘college chic’ that’s just fucking stupid. You are not any cooler dressing like an r-tard. Ps: one should only pull off the beach bum Matthew Machoney look if you have a 6 pack… and I mean on your abs and not in your cooler. And do your hair in the morning for chrissake, If I make the effort to look presentable you should too!


Don’t Sweat in Hairy Situations


I’m going to level with you, if you’re a dark haired guy (or girl, I’m not going to discriminate here), a sweeping generalization tells me that chances are very good that you’re a hairy and sweaty person. That’s cool, I know people sweat, it’s healthy. You go to the gym chances are that you are a sweaty mess afterwards. You are riding on the bus for 25 minutes with 600 other people and you are involved in a sticky jumble of bodies, you might be a little perspired. But when you are sitting in a seminar room and I can spot the huge South American shaped sweat stain on your chest, I’m curious as to what kind of mental activities you are putting yourself through to Jedi mind trick your body into thinking its working out. If you know you sweat a lot please don’t wear grey, it’s like a flare is going off and pointing at your armpits. With summertime so close to being here, chances are if you’re like me you enjoy a nice pair of shorts or capri’s to take advantage of the nice weather. If I see a girl wearing capri’s and legs that look like they participated in a hair transplant from a Sasquatch, that’s passing the line in social decency. If your hair is so thick, and so luxurious you feel like showing it off please do so in France, because that is nasty. Guys, if you like wearing v-neck shirts, please make sure that if your chest looks like it needs to be weed-whacked it’s done before the hair explodes out of your shirt like a 4th grade volcano experiment at the science fair. Nair costs like $5, don’t forget to watch out for the ingrown hairs! Welcome to our world, jerks.

An Irish Guide

A quick and dirty guide on being more like me… only less dirty

In the spirit of the upcoming Irish holiday commonly referred to as St. Patrick’s Day, I wanted to do a two-parter to celebrate all the Irish crew out there (hands raised: Holla!). I think it’s fair to assume that not many of you are Irish. I don’t care if you’re if your Grandparents knew a guy, who installed your bathtub, and that guy’s dad who ran over a leprechaun one time after a late night bender in Kalamazoo. I’m also not talking about “Well my mom’s side is half Irish, half British (lame), and my dad is white and grossly pale so he must be Irish.” As a side note if any of you think you are Irish, but then say you are also half something else that means that you are not Irish. If your dad is grossly pale without being Irish, he is just sickly and needs to buy some tanning minutes (however if he IS Irish that means the sun trembles at his awesome Irish presence so that explains that).


Being Irish is the equivalent of being a high powered executive in a huge corporation. Sure, when that executive emigrated from Ireland no one wanted to hire him because he was a dirty farmer with no money. But eventually that executive made his way from the bottom to the top by making enough train tracks and buildings to find himself on the good side of life with everyone realizing how awesome his accent was and how not everyone from Ireland was a ginger.


The best way to know that Irish people are the most bomb people is because we have our own pseudo holiday: St. Patrick’s Day. Now, as a child you are born into our holiday by colouring all of you crappy drawings green, you graduate into wearing cheap plastic hats and then finally consuming mass amounts of green beer in your later years (note: Make sure the beer does not turn blue, you traitors). What other country has a holiday as renowned? The best way to showcase this is to compare St. Patrick’s Day to a fake made up holiday like St. Andrew’s Day. St. Patrick rid the town of snakes… Do you know how hard that is? It’s hard enough for Samuel L. Jackson to get rid of them when they’re on planes, never mind crawling all over everything, and getting up in everyone’s biz-nass. St. Andrew? Just a guy with a bank holiday… In Scotland. Case closed!


People think that to be deemed a good Irish you have to drown in beer, that’s untrue, many years I have not drown at all. In fact, you can tell the Irish fakers from the Irish wannabes by who is drinking cheap beer. If you have a Lakeport in your hand, a Lucky, or a Coors Light, it’s like a bullhorn going off in your backpack while trying to steal a diamond from a museum. Way to be discrete, asshole. Real Irish people don’t drink cheap beer -better yet- real Irish people don’t drink LIGHT beer… what is this, a water polo match? If your beer is not thick and rich like a Turkish rug then you are representing the wrong country, sister (you want England).


Something else that needs to be addressed is the clover concept. Every Irish person needs to have a clover with them every day of the year, for good luck. At least one shamrock tattoo is required per Irish person, per 200lbs (for some, additional tattoos will be needed). Luck is important to us, and we prefer to get lucky every day, all day long, and also, we like Barry White on a totally unrelated topic.


So there you have it; a quick and dirty guide on how to be exactly like me. Remember, not all Irish people are as lame as Bono, but you can’t argue with how fantastic that guy looks pulling off a pair of blue John Lennon style retro-chic shades. Don’t forget part of being cool isn’t drinking more than your liver lets you, not everyone can be mechanically built like Keith Richards. So on March 17th get your green Abe Lincoln hats and bust out your “10% Irish, 90% drunk” T-shirts, and go and make me proud.

Why Gene Simmons is awesome

Let me just break it down for you, when you think of celebrities that are normal, you don't generally think of the ones that have their own reality TV series, Gene Simmons' Family Jewels.

Firstly, Gene is a jew, and was born Chaim Witz. He could have chose any name to change to: Max Power, I.C.Weiner, Hue Gem Ucles? He chose the name Gene. Now, not only is that the gayest name ever for a man in a rock band, 90% of old ladies are named Gene. If that is not awesome, I don't even know how to argue my point stronger.

Speaking of names, he didn't name his kids Apple, Moses, Germany, Sparrow, or some other type of reptile species, he named his kids Nick and Sophie. Those are the most normal names ever. None of this pesudo-better than you celebrity mindset. If a kid can't part the sea, you can't name him moses, and if the kid want's regular uber wedgies until he is 18, you name him Sparrow.

The family just seems real. Gene is actually portrayed and represented in such a fantastic light, it's like he's such a normal guy with a stage presence, not a super-douche with a fake smile. He seems like he actually loves his family, and he loves his dog Snippy. Men who like animals are generally not strange. Except if he has like, 23 rats and trains them in his basement. And if his name is Willard...anyway.

Oh, gene may look like a shar-pei dog with his head out of a car window doing 160km on the highway but his kids are gorg. I could get arrested for saying this because I don't know if Nick is over 18 or not, but he is sexy. Sexy like an over-18 kind of way. Actually he kind of looks like Angus Young in that photo. Creepy... with his Jude Law scarf and his wild unruly hair.

Regardless, Gene is someone who I can picture myself being friends with, and in my mind we are friends. He tweets me what he's doing so I can show up and meet him in his maximum security mansion, and forgot my name and who I was so he couldn't help when I'm yelling don't taze me bro to his security guards.

And that is why Gene Simmons is awesome and better than your family.



-Clover

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