“My nail clippers should be here. Why aren’t they fucking here? I’m just not looking hard enough. I should keep searching longer. I’ll look under this sheet of paper. Not here. Dammit, I’d like to get to bed soon. It’s possible that my roommate was using them and never gave them back. Naw, I’m just being crazy. There’s no need to bother him; but what if he did? It’s obviously not completely out of the realm of possibility that my roommate used my nail clippers. No, they’re definitely on this desk because there’s no other goddamn place where I keep them…but I’m staring at the fucking desk right now and guess what…THEY’RE NOT HERE!!! Ok, fine, while I wasn’t thinking, I put them in the drawer. My mom once found her keys in her refrigerator. Anything’s possible…..Of course they’re not fucking here! Of course, you IDIOT! Fuck it I’m asking my roommate.”

“TOM!”

“YEA?”

“HAVE YOU SEEN MY NAIL CLIPPERS?”

“….NO!”

“FUUUUUCK! HOW THE FUCK DO I KEEP LOSING SHIT! This is unbelievable. I’m 23, and my head is already becoming senile. I should be fucking college bitches right now. I should kill myself. Fuck it, I’m just going to fucking kill my…oh wait…here they are right here…on my desk.”

What you just read was the last 20 minutes of yesterday. That’s 1/72nd of my day, not exactly ideal efficiency. One would suggest to me that I should be more organized, or I should stop drinking so I don’t achieve brain-farts like this, or I should stop masturbating with a belt around my neck. All of these are great pieces of advice (although I’m not sure how the last one applies here), but I probably won’t follow them. Losing things is a tradition passed on from generation to generation, as far back as there have been things to lose; and I’m not about to be the asshole who breaks that. Also, organized people are fags.

Screw any big movie role, or some #1 rock hit. You don’t really know you’ve made it until you’ve been on a late-night talk show. There must be no other feeling like it. You sit there and recount random stories, while about two hundred people listen intently; you have their undivided attention. They are there to see you; and they will cheer loudly and mindlessly at whatever you say. The host sets you up with questions that you are already prepared for, and you end up looking awesome.

I am currently watching Jimmy Kimmel Live. Taye Diggs from “Private Practice” was just on. He talked about the birth of his son. The Oooohs and aaaws followed every sentence. During the story, he talked about how they now turn the placenta into pill form so it can be taken daily (apparently, it contains nutrients); and people fucking laughed at that. If I tried a story like that, I’d lose my speaking privileges for the rest of the night. At the end, Jimmy gave him a gift…a Chuck Norris Halloween outfit! (….ahem….wait for it….wait for it….) A FUCKING CHUCK NORRIS HALLOWEEN OUTFIT!!! WHERE THE FUCK IS MY CHUCK NORRIS COWBOY GEAR!? OH, GREAT! THE RICH FUCKING GET RICHER AND I’LL BE STUCK HERE IN MY APARTMENT TRYING TO MAKE SOMETHING CREATIVE OUT OF BLUE PAINT, A NET, AND A FUCKING BOX. HAPPY FUCKING HALLOWEEN, TAYE DIGGS, YOU FUCKING PRETTY-BOY. (I don’t mean that, Taye (there’s a .000001% chance he’ll read this). You seem like a good enough person. Besides, you were great in….in….Anyways, moving on….)

Afterwards, Kristin Cavallari was the next guess. She is on one of those half-scripted, half-reality shows on MTV (“The Hills”, “Laguna Beach”, etc). Wisely, Taye Diggs did not stick around for this interview. Had he stayed, America would have witnessed a stable marriage self-destruct in five minutes. I always find the part where the first guest stays while the second one is interviewed the most interesting. You get two people from two completely different worlds interacting. In other words, you get extremely awkward moments. If you don’t believe me, check out this.

As awesome as that link is, however, I do not want Norm Macdonald to be the other guest while I’m on…

Leave it to the Japanese… A Japanese hidden camera show called ‘Panic Face King’ goes extreme on this poor guy, luring him into a fake meeting in which everyone is killed by a sniper except for him. He is definitely the panic face king.

Terrifying Sniper Prank on Japanese TV – Watch more Funny Videos

If you’re like me, you hate people, will do anything to have as little-to-no interaction with them (especially ones you don’t know), and can’t stand dealing with them. If so, please allow me to give you assistance with one of our world’s biggest problems (right behind N1H1 virus and Kanye West): the double-door conundrum.

When you enter a building right behind someone, he/she usually holds the door open for you. They don’t do it because they are good people; they do it because they look like good people for doing it. Think about it. There’s a child molester somewhere who has held the door open for someone, and that someone found this person to be cordial and pleasant, but I digress. To handle the situation quickly, you give them the quick “Thanks” as you go through the door behind them.

There’s just one problem. There’s another door right there; and sure enough, the fucker’s holding that one open for you as well like the damn tool he is. Oh, you’re just a regular boy-scout today; aren’t you, dickhead? Of course, you can’t let this dumbass think that you’re so simple that you’re just going to say “thanks” again. You could handle the situation with some kind of lame joke like saying, “God, you are so kind! Thank you!” in an ironic manner, but then that may spark some kind of conversation with this pompous prick. Screw that. You could say nothing, but then you come off as not knowing what to say, which will make you seem uncomfortable, and you definitely don’t want this loser in front of you to think he’d ever have the upper hand on you. Unfortunately, unless you can think of something creative, you realize you’re stuck with one of these options…

…Until now. Here’s my patented way of dealing with this awful problem. At the first door, do the mumbling “thanks.” This one is going to take a little practice. You have to make it seem as though you barely notice him/her opening the door for you. Pretend you’re in the middle of some random thought and you barely notice the person, and don’t make eye contact. When you get to the second door, then let out an earnest “thanks.” This way, you are able to mix up your responses in order to keep your enemy on his toes; but you also make it just short and sweet enough so that you’ll never have to deal with anything else afterwards. You can just go on your separate way.

Follow this method, and you’ll at least be able to avoid a few awkward moments with people that you probably don’t like. Perhaps this is a good thing; perhaps I think about these things to much. Either way, you’re welcome…

You can use your Iphone to find out the name of your future partner, your baby, and when you’re going to die, so why not get some information that is useful TODAY?

Well now you can. New Iphone software tells you the expected time, weight, and consistency of your next dump.

Simply install the software, enter everything you’ve eaten in the last 24 hours, and the amazing software will give you a computer generated picture of your next poo. Accurately rendered in full 3D, you can rotate, zoom and even sniff the predicted plop. No more wondering what kind of crap you’re going to have next – now you’ll know!

Seriously, if someone actually writes this software and makes a million from it, I’ll be coming after you!

This is a commercial running in Canada for Bud Light Lime Flavored Beer which is now available in a can…

There’s a very good chance that I’m going to fail out on my final semester at college. This would be very sad. The average semester at my school entails taking 4 classes. I am taking 2…and it’s not starting well. I went to class on the first day, and have been to a total of 0 since. (NOTE: Please do not mention that fucking word “senioritis” to me. It is so overused. I seriously hope I catch swine flu so everyone I know can say I have that instead of senioritis….also, that would give me a legitimate excuse for missing my classes.)

College works a little different from high school. You pay thousands of dollars to have permission to boring lectures by accomplished wise-asses. So, it would be better for your “return on investment” if you take in every little bit of knowledge (brainwashing) that the professors have to say. Not for me, though. I need to be the rebel. Yeaaaa, give people thousands of dollars of money and then refuse to get anything in return…that’ll show ‘em.

I can’t say I even have a legitimate excuse for my truancy. I wish I could sit here and tell you (or type you) that I was offered a threesome by this bonerific chick and her ass-tacular friend, but I can’t (that probably would’ve only lasted 5 minutes anyways and I would’ve went to class a little late afterwards). Here’s what I did instead of going: nothing. Literally, I just sat in a chair and mulled over whether or not I should go to class. Then, time made the decision for me an hour later.

Basically, I’m making idiotic decisions that I should really reconsider. Actually, that’s a good idea. I’ll do that tomorrow, instead of going to class.

This video is kinda on fire lately.  Thank goodness I get CNN in Mexico!

The groom here doesn’t know his waffles from his wife.  I’m happy I can’t marry because I would hate for this to happen on my wedding day.  If my groom went  cackly cackly on me, that’s it, I’m walkin.  NEXT!  Haha. Just kidding

Drinking on Sundays and irrationally spending money are two things that would be wise for me to avoid at all costs. So obviously you can see why I let my friend Taco talk me into going to a Booze Cruise with him this past Sunday. A lot of things factored into this decision. For one, I’d never been on one before which is just sad for a college student. Also, I wanted to see the view of the Boston skyline (I’m a pussy).

So Taco and I joined 2 other friends and we went to the bar that set up the whole thing. Multiple scorpion bowls and beers later, we were all a mess. We then made our way down the street into our boat and headed out. As I expected, the view of Boston is pretty cool from a boat. As I didn’t expect, the rest of the night was a long, regretful wreck. A booze cruise is like being in a dance club, complete with douchebags and stuck-up girls; except there’s no escape because you’re in the middle of the fucking ocean. To make the most of the situation, I pounded even more beers and guided my half-dead body on to the dance floor. I attempted to sketchily dance with every girl there, which caused them to walk away. After continuing this rather fun game of cat-and-mouse for a while, I went to the bathroom and proceeded to puke my brains out. Shortly afterwards, the boat arrived back at the harbor. The night was over….until Taco convinced me to go with him back to the bar.

My drunkenness being at a level more dangerous than “Terror Alert: Red”, I then agreed to do some karaoke. My song of choice: “Hypnotize” by B.I.G. I know (almost) every word to this song, but that’s not the point. I chose it because I was able to drop the “N-bomb” on a microphone. The looks I got were priceless.

Needless to say, I didn’t make it into work the next day, which is horrible for my finances. Eventually, I’ll learn. I hope that doesn’t come any time soon.

As this summer comes to a close, I can’t help but think about how much it sucked. Working from 9-5 every Monday through Friday in an office gave me a staunch view of how my life is going to be. All my life I was told how awesome life would be if I had a degree and was working in an office by my mother. Well, ma, no offense, but that was gay. Now I have to pay the consequences, for life. Don’t feel guilty or anything.

Rather then getting up at 10 AM and watching Jenna Haze get fucked up the ass by a donkey while she’s sucking off some random dude (more or less the way I’ve always spent my summer days), I had to get up at 7 AM everyday, go into the office, and read specifications. I’m not saying that it was bad; all I’m saying is I would’ve rather stuck my dick in a shredder.

In terms of weather during the summer in New England, it’s either 95 fucking degrees or it’s raining. Those are your two options. You would think this would be a good thing with the potential for scantily clad girls in the area, but the problem is that some of them are fat and it only takes the sight of one fat bitch in short shorts to ruin the fantasy involving the 10 hot girls that passed by before her. Some men go on safaries to Africa to take down big game; I wish they’d come to Boston take down fat chicks. I don’t think we have to worry about them being an endangered species anytime soon.

More complaints about my summer to come (cuz I know you care oh so much)….