National Dress Like a Slut Day

National Dress Like a Slut Day

I love Halloween. Especially in this town. And I think at least 85% of you know why. And no, it's not for the candy corn. That stuff sucks. Well, at least the white and orange parts suck. I'll eat the yellow part off the bottom, but that just seems rude. If there's anybody out there that only likes the top half, let me know. We can hang out tomorrow.

Sorry, got off track again. So yeah, it's not because of the mouth candy, but because of the eye candy. It's the one day of the year that it's socially acceptable to dress like a complete slut. It's really not, but I'm not going to be the one to tell them. Why ruin all my fun? And it is just laughable how they justify it by pretending it's something else. Really short black skirt and low cut dress that shows half your boobs? Wait, there's a tail and some black ears. Oh, you're a cat! Nice. You can come sit on my lap anytime. Same outfit in white showing off some of your actual ass every time you turn around. Oh, it's got a red cross on it. You're a nurse! Sweet. I'm ready for my sponge bath. An elastic headband worn as a skirt and a shirt tied in a knot in the front so everyone can see the tramp stamp on the small of your back? And boots up to your knee? And you have a gun? Oh, a cop! Sure, what the hell? Feel free to have a drink of my milk if you want (Sorry, still thinking about the kitty).

So that's the best part of Halloween. The other equally best part of Halloween is that I get to pretend to be somebody else. Somebody cool. And I get to wear eye shadow. I've started to become Captain Jack Sparrow. I just wish there were more opportunities in the year to dress up and act like a pirate. Actually, you don't act like a pirate so much as an alcoholic. And I guess I act like that enough days of the year (mom, I'm kidding. And I'm sleeping well too – they're just jokes).

So the following is a conversation that occurred this past Friday at a costume party. I had the Jack Sparrow outfit in full effect and the rum was nearing its end, which means less Dustin and more Jack. So anyway, it was brought to my attention that I needed a tattoo of a sparrow on my wrist to complete the ensemble. I asked out loud if anyone in the room was an artist…

Quote of the Day 10/30/06

Me: "Is anyone in here an artist?"
Kari: "I can draw."
Me: "Cool. Can you draw a sparrow on my wrist?"
Kari: "What does a sparrow look like?"
Some unidentified girl from the room: "She's going to draw a penis."
Me: "No, just draw any bird really and we'll pretend it's a sparrow."
Kari drew a penis on my wrist.
Me: "Well, at least give it wings."

I then had a penis with wings on my wrist.

I know why the rum's gone,

Captain Dick Sparrow.


Still Standing Right Here…

I Hate Fuckin Brick Street

I Hate Fuckin Brick Street

I hate fuckin Brick Street. If any of you out there are really my friends, you won't make me go back there again. Like next time I'm at a party and somebody says "let's go to Brick Street," I'm just gonna go jogging or something. Something healthy. First of all, don't ever anyone try to defend going there by saying "I want to go dancing." Because that's not dancing. I've seen dancing and that's not it. That is holding a bottle of beer and spinning around. And those are just the classy people. The majority of the "dancers" there do what is closer to an erect form of lap dance (yes, I'm aware of the double meaning). It's not dancing. It's a mating ritual. And I can't stand guys that do this gay ass dance probably started by a movie with Vince Vaughn and/or Will Ferrell. The one where they grab their foot with one hand and the back of their head with the other and gyrate back and forth as if they're getting punched in the stomach and subsequently hit in the spine with a baseball bat over and over very quickly. This is probably closer to dancing than those girls who put their hands on their knees and move their booty around in concentric circles, but at least they give me something to look at. Does anybody out there see a guy do this dance and go "Sweet! That guy is cool!" Because I can't picture anybody I know who wouldn't want to hit the guy in the knee with a 4 iron. I just wanted to go up to this guy and just shove him. If it didn't knock him over and hurt him, at least he'd have to break form and stop doing that. There was this girl who was kind of attractive that I was thinking about going over to talk to since we shared the commonality of having friends out there who were "dancing" while we were sitting in booths wondering if we should just walk all the way home again or wait and hope that maybe somebody we know might leave soon and end this debacle. Then this guy comes over and does that retarded seizure dance and actually starts talking to the girl. And then they started making out. God, I hope he knew her because if that shit worked, I'm packing and leaving this stupid town tomorrow cause I don't have a shot. I mean I can do the seizure shuffle (this is the dance's new name), but I will never stoop to those tactics. I have too much pride in whatever actual ability I have to dance. So in case you have never been there, Brick Street is one straight up grindfest. And normally I'm too annoyed, sober or outnumbered to spin my game while there. I think I actually may be passed the days where going to clubs and grinding on college girls is the thing for me to do. Or maybe I'm passed the days where they'll let me. Either way, I think I'm passed the days. If you just look at the crowd from the upper level, it's like one organism. One giant horny organism. And I liken the chicks that go there to bees. They go from flower to flower, never satisfied with just one, until they get drunk enough to let the flower they pass out in to take her home and play with her stinger (too far?). Next time I go there (in case I don't have running shoes with me), I'm covering myself in pollen. I think that's my best shot. If nothing else, it will be something to remember the night by. Other than me walking home alone in the pouring rain writing this little diatribe in my head. Maybe the next day I'll run into some girl who will be like "Hey, you're that guy from Brick Street who covered himself in pollen, right? Cool." They say there's no such thing as bad publicity. I'll prove them wrong.

Where the hell was I? Ah, fuck it.

Quote of the Day 8/14/06

"Being single is like Bridge, no one knows how to play and old people are always giving you some skewed version based on what they think they remember."

-Sisfish (the real one)

Somebody call me if you want to go watch a movie Friday night. Or sit down and have an actual intelligent conversation.

Boycotting fun for a week,

Pollen Man.

Still Standing Right Here…

Rating Volleyball Team's Practice Jerseys

Volleyball Team's Practice Jerseys

Syracuse women’s team - It's fashionable at the national club volleyball tournament to put cute sexual innuendos on the back of your shirts. It seems like a great opportunity to try to be more clever than the next team. Instead, I think most of the girls teams just try to sound dirtier and sluttier than the next team. The Syracuse women's team had big orange letters that said "HIT THIS" on the back of their shirts. On the very bottom in small print in parenthesis, it said "(again)." Apparently, last year's shirt said "HIT THIS". I'll give them props for keeping a theme and sticking with it, however bland it may be. At least it had something to do with volleyball. B-

Drexel men’s team - Theirs simply said "I gave my kneepads to your girlfriend." Now, I suppose it's somewhat volleyball related, but it's just not very funny. And if you're gonna be rude, at least be funny about it, or else you just look like an ass. D

Miami University women’s team - "All we do is BANG BANG BANG." OK. I got it. It's got the volleyball thing going on and the sexual thing too. At least they tried to make it about volleyball on some level. There was one shirt there that said "Spit or swallow, you decide." I refuse to rate that one. This one: C-

UC Davis men’s team - The logo for the NBA is a white silhouette of Jerry West dribbling a basketball inside a tall rectangle. The right of the rectangle is blue and the left of it is red and underneath the logo, it says "I love this game." Well, UC Davis' shirt had the same rectangle, except in the middle of it, there was a silhouette of a volleyball player spiking a ball and underneath it said "I love this game too." It was the only shirt without a sexual innuendo on it and it was clever and very classy. Not bad for California boys. Not to mention they paid for a two color screen. A+

Xavier men’s team - "You may beat us when we're sober, but get us drunk and we'll bang your girlfriend" They lost their way somewhere in that shirt. I think they got tired of being creative halfway through the saying. I wonder if they talked about that or if they just had to come up with something on the spot. Cause it sucks. F

Quote of the Day 4/13/04

"We hit it from every position."

-Maryland's women's team

This was the most clever of all the shirts with sayings on them, pathetic as it may be compared to the twenty-something that Steve, Keith, Justin and I came up with on the van ride back from Charlotte (you'll read them soon). At any rate, I thought it was a good balance between volleyball and sex and it's motivation enough for me to stay in touch with them. :) A

If it ain't hard, it ain't goin in,

Extendo.


Still Standing Right Here...