"Serves you right, you little shit"

I recently heard a story about a teenage girl who smashed her car up, and invented an unconvincing and utterly contrived story to explain her behavior, and the condition of her car. And it got me thinking....




True or False:

Typical TeenageGirls are morally and intellectually MOST similar to toddlers.

True.

Mommy: "Bobby, did you steal a cookie?"

Bobby: "No."

Mommy: "Well, how did the cookie jar get knocked over?"

Bobby: "Squirrel."

Mommy: "Then why are there crumbs on your hands and face?"

Bobby: "I caught the squirrel and petted and kissed the squirrel and let go the squirrel outside."

Mommy: "Bobby, admit to mommy that you're a fucking liar"

Bobby: "But I swear I swear I swear I PROMISE!"

Mommy: "Shut the fuck up, Bobby. Where are you going? Get over here and take your goddamned medicine. You know what we do to little boys who lie? We hit them in the throat. Can't lie now, can you, ya' little faggot?"

Bobby: "*cough cough sputter*"

Mommy: "That's better..."

Not ALL Southern People Suck

The following is a series of exceprts from the most recent BLOGtastic BLOG entry from a www.thedutchfactor.blogspot.com , DirtyDutch's blog. I thought it was too funny to pass up, and I'm too hot, tired, and drunk to post anything original. Enjoy. Or don't. Fuck off, either way.

"Why are any of you still using Blogspot? You want to be on Myspace. Keeping up with your blog is pretty much optional; no one has even a little content. And there are plenty of spinning, flashy things to amuse you. Myspace takes the work out of proving that you're illiterate."

"...Why does everyone think that we like having to copy and paste their text into a word document, just to be able to read it? If you can't figure out on your own that a huge, multi-color, pictorial wallpaper makes it hard to read, then perhaps you can draw your conclusion from the print industry. Have you ever read a book thats' text was printed over old Big Lots ad circulars? Even though most of you don't read books, I'm sure a few of you played Splinter Cell, and decided that you'd try to bang out a couple of those Clancy dirges, or something..."

"...at least a few of you are willing to sacrifice the only medium with which you're able to display your love of Death Cab for Cutie, for the sake legibility. No one does, on Myspace."

Pre-Nadal Checkup?

I was browsing espn.com a few minutes ago, and came across the following headline above the featured article list on the right:

"Clay Ache'n: Federer Wants French Open Title."

I am absolutely furious. Where the hell did the incredibly annoying trend of 90% of all news articles having a HORRIBLE pun as its headline come from? Needs to stop, or at least be scaled back and used only as a change of pace, or when the pun is not groan-a-licious.

Then again, this might be unfair. To be completely above board, I hate American Idol, and my room is about 375 degrees Kelvin, so I'm irritable than a motherfucker.

If he touched my daughter, he'd be a dead dog

I was reading the latest Bill Simmons Mailbag column, and on the righthand sidebar in a gray box entitled "Funny emails that didn't quite make the cut" (or something like that), there was this gem in the middle.

"At some point during a Rasheed Wallace interview I expect him to scream into the microphone, "Yes they deserved to die and I hope they burn in hell!!!"-- Jay Stewart, Spokane, Wash.

I laughed, and a combination of snot and water came out of my nose.

Also, I my friend Chris recently told me that he and his apartment-mate Sean decided that Pistons Coach Flip Saunders bears an uncanny resemblance to Telly Monster, from Sesame Street. I was blown to smithereens by the similarity. Links follow.

Telly Monster: http://www.gothamist.com/images/2003_8_telly.jpg

Flip Saunders: http://us.news2.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/p/ap/20060515/capt.0e538d985e1b44fc92a78560e39b4f98.pistons_cavaliers_basketball_cda103.jpg

Pretty sweet, eh?

Drunken Braggart

One of my good friends is a pretty sweet poker player. He's also a pretty sweet drinker. When I left him last night, he was at least 2.75 sheets to the wind, if not all 3.

I awoke to the folliwing IMs:

Wang'sFriend: there is a highlighted 10/20 nl table at full tilt, a pro named gregfbtmueller is playing, i am up 1500 on him... he raised to 60 preflop, i called with a10 off, came off 778, he bet 120 i called, came off jack, i bet ahead 225, he raised to 700, i insta-pushed he folded...

Wang'sFriend: he is super shitty

(time passes)

Wang'sFriend: up 3000 now

Wang'sFriend: gregfbtmueller: "you don't miss much, do you?" wang'sfriend: "no, you are terrible"

Wang'sFriend: he is super shitty


I figure I have to include a little poker, just to keep up appearances. If I can help it, you won't get anything about my personal exploits unless it's

a) incredibly interesting (fat chance)
b) very, very stupid on my part (more likely)


In a drunken haze last night, I placed the following bets:

Udonis Haslem, Points+Reb, o/u 16.5 OVER

Tayshaun Prince, Points+Assists, o/u 21.5 OVER

Cardinals at Padres CARDINALS (-140)


Gimme 'da loot.

Everytime you jerkoff, a kitty dies

Things of which Derek is ashamed:

1) Being a slave to the "never end a phrase with a preposition" rule, even when shit gets awkward

2) My 2 most recent blog entries. Good/Lord: How drunk can a man get?

3) Last night, I burned my finger all bad, fell down a flight of stairs, and seriously offened a good friend and roommate; that's awesome, but I forgot about it until today.

4) I recently accepted a $25 bet to slam 4 Lime-ass Smirnoff Ices in 10 minutes. It took me 7.5 minutes. I should be executed.

5) One of my good friends had a date tongiht. He asked that I show up. I thought, "Well, I can't just wear this cutoff T-shirt, so I'll put on this XL Party Poker jacket." My best friend was wearing a 2XL Chauncey Billups T-shirt he'd worn the night before...

6) I was the most despicable person mentioned in #5

7) My friend Graig said I "was a fucking cartoon character" last night.



Wait a fucking second. I'm not ashamed about that last one at all; I'm AWESOME!!

RELATIONSHIP George!

Real (REAL! ACTUAL! EXISTANT!!) people have just learned my blog-site-address-"dotcom"-center-of-shit-bitch-bitchsite.

Real people learned about my WEBLOG tonight. That's negative, because I planned on lying through my teeth.

For you (<--------- anyone reading this blog, besides "me"; "Chris"; "Graig/Craig"; or "Jerry"), though, this means you're much more likely to get "creative fact" than "complete and total- not to mention outright- fiction."

So, on that note.....

(looking around innocently)

"Me?"

(....)

"Me? Really?"

(....)

"Okay, gig's up, kid. I get it..."

(....)

"Slag off, then, yagh?"

(.................)

"Damn you and your damnably damnable methods. Fuck you AND your skamk-ass mother, you fu-...."

(.....?)

"Ah, shit, I couldn't hear you.. Take a left on West Main, and just follow it all the way... It'll be on your left, just past the MacDonald's. You... you-ah, can't miss it....."

(....)

"Yeah, sorry about that. I bet your mother is a ve-..."

(....!!....!!!!!!)

"Yeah, no ma'am, b-...."

(!) "No, I didn't mean 'yeah,' but I DID mean tha"

(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!: "!!!!!!!!!!!!,"!)

"I apologize, and I hope your chemotherapy goes well, ma'am."

(!!.......!!......!!!!!!!!)

"Okay, there's, ah.... yeah, I'll be leaving now. Like I said, find that MacDon-"

(-@#*&$#^%)

"(hanging head) I am so sorry... I.... I really must be going now."

(DZQPHZVNT!!!!)





"I deserved that....."

African Shit

Okay, so it's 545am

I am sober. (<------- false)
This afternon, I went to the mall with a gambooling friend of mine, and bought the following:

a) Chauncey Bllups T-shirt

b) Awesomely sweet Pistons Armbands (SUPER SWEET!

3) maraca

d) Thumb/Drum(b)

e) Ceremonial Tribal African Spear (loud)

During the Pistons game tonight, my friends and I found some way to use all the musical instruments we bought this afternoon . I am almost positive the 'Stones won because every time Dick Bavetta called a blocking foul, someone snagged the maracas and made him look a-fool. Fuck you, Dick Bavetta!

I'm aware that makes no sense, but I am still pretty sure we won because I smacked those maracas on the thumb/drums for 17 consecutive possessions at the end of the second quarter

Alright: I'm bombed-alicious.....


Now it is 615.


30 minute blog entries blow

I'm going to force myself to post as frequently as possible, at least for the first few weeks. If I don't, this hobby will go the route of rock collecting and crystal building.

I was watching television and I randomly thought of the Tetris spinoff "Hatris." It was kinda like Tetris, except you were stacking up bowlers and fedoras and 12 gallon hats and shit. It was probably the worst game ever.

Also, I forgot a quick story from Tuesday night:

I was playing beer pong with my buddy Chris. He's a professional card player, and a professional winner, so when we dropped back-to-back games to the same team, he became furious. After we lost the third, he busted out $50 bucks, slapped it on the table, and said, "We're playing this game for $50 bucks."

The opposition smirked, and the doofier looking one said "Oh really? Well, that's just not worth my time, son. I'll only play you guys if it's $50 bucks EACH!"

Without missing a beat, he pulled a second fifty out of his wallet and slammed it on the table.

The doofus gulped and said, "....you have a gambling problem." They refused to play us anymore, and we counted that as a moral victory. They might have whooped our asses from here to Cleveland, but when it came down to it, they're massive pussies. Score, bitches.

Blah Blah Blog

First personal post in the exciting world of the blogosphere. There. I said it. "Blogosphere." I can officially look in the mirror and say proudly I have not a modicum of self-worth left. And it only took 23 years.

I'll start with a little about last night:

My housemate (Craig, or "the black guy") and I went to a co-ed softball game. I was 0-1, and reached on an error because the second baseman was a girl. In the 3rd inning, I broke back on a flyball in leftfield, and thought I was in good position to make the play. The ball was knuckling a little bit, and I saw it start to dive. I fell over, bringing my "games in which Derek has fallen over in the outfield" tally to 2. Out of 4.

Or 50%. I'm mildly disappointed.

After the game we went to the bar, and I got all hammered. After the Pistons game (disasterous), I was in no mood to hang out and have fun, but when the Tigers rallied in the 8th inning to beat the hapless Royals, I decided I could muster up the guster to continue having fun. I played beer pong (did poorly, but maintained balance) most of the night, and slammed liquor with Craig.

Sadly, he made out with a random girl on the team, and the only girl interested in me or my beard was the girl I made out with two weeks ago. After conferring with Craig, we decided the language of our bet dictates that I would not receive additional points for visiting the same well twice.

So, the current score is 1-1. It looks like I'm heading for trouble, but I'm more than willing to sacrifice a little dignity to win this contest.

Today, Jeremy's mom yelled at me for smoking cigarettes in the house. I was, to say the least, very, very unhappy. Jeremy is pretty awesome guy to live with, though, so we worked things out. Nothing wrong with being buds.

Blogtastic!