Lt. Literacy's Linguistic Legacy

I can bake cookies...

2011-10-20T15:10:00.000-07:00

I am a stand up comic. Although I have been performing stand up since June of 2005, it wasn't until three years ago that I finally felt comfortable labeling myself as a comedian. Whenever anyone would discover that I was somewhat associated with comedy, I would never really know how to answer their questions. I still refuse to call myself a professional comedian, given that I am not paying bills with money earned from performances. It is a dream and hobby that I enjoy and wish to pursue. Stand up comedy has provided some of my fondest memories and has helped me grow into the person that I am today. The experience is absolutely priceless, and I wish for everyone to experience how wonderful the feeling truly is. With hard work, I feel that anyone can become a comic.

Given that, I have been involved with the "comedy scene" for a while now and have heard/read multiple people rant and rave their different opinions about "what it takes to be a stand up comic" or whatever the fuck. I am annoyed and fed up with how people, who will remain unidentified, view comedy and often times, abuse it. Yes, it is just a matter of difference in opinions, but I have done close to one thousand shows over my six years of participation and have seen just about every type of comedy enthusiast. Here are some scenarios that bother me:

Scenario 1: You are the funniest person at work/in your group of friends.
Response: Cool, dude. That's rad, but it does not make you a comic.

Scenario 2: You are an actor and feel that comedy comes second nature.
Response: Go to hell. All you want is more stage time and you are an asshole.

Scenario 3: You have a midlife crisis and feel that stand up comedy will reinvent you.
Response: Jesus Christ, bro.

Understandably, I sound like a total asshole, but comedy, let alone the entertainment industry, is a difficult field of business to get involved with and succeed no matter where you are geographically. As it is currently, the Arizona "comedy scene" still is not big enough to spark a career into super stardom. It may pay bills, but unless you move somewhere else, you will remain in Arizona constantly looking over the fence admiring the grass. Do not misconceive my message; there are several people in Arizona with outstanding talent. I just want people to include rationality when hyping themselves over their comedy dream/hobby. I will be the first to admit that I am still incredibly far from achieving "professional" comic status, and accept comedy as a hobby at this point in time. My job is where I go to work, where they eventually pay me, above minimum wage, for my services. Comedy is a hobby that I like to partake in whenever I can. I want to be a professional stand up comedian, but that will be further down the road, if at all. I encourage everyone and anyone to follow their heart's desires pertaining to comedy, but please, call it like you see it.

I take comedy very seriously. I, like most the people I know, have a deep passion for it and become frustrated whenever someone treats comedy as an easy solution. I can bake cookies, but it doesn't make me a god damned baker. Anyone can tell a joke, but if you are not paying bills with your comedy, you are not a professional comedian.

Comedy may be something different to you than it is to me, and I accept that people may consider me an egotistical douchebag for my opinions. That is fine. I guess I just need to stop reading other comedy enthusiasts' blogs and getting pissed off. Comedy is like any other hobby: there will always be someone else who takes it way more seriously than you do, and will never see you as an equal. Get used to it.

Confessions From the Downstairs Couch

2011-09-02T15:32:00.000-07:00

Episode 1: Return to Tempe

Since I have been unemployed, I have spent the majority of my time in my parent's basement slowly going insane. There is nothing to do in Gilbert but hate yourself for living in Gilbert. At least we don't pretend we are better than what we actually are like Chandler. Grow up, Chandler.

I apply to nearly 50 jobs a day. When I get a call for an interview, not only am I surprised but curious to what I am interviewing for. Mostly, I am just happy to have an excuse to leave the house, but I made the mistake of not researching the company prior to leaving the house and shaving my beard off. I entered the company's name into Google and saw that the second search result was a posting on a forum asking if this company was a scam, ultimately leading to many horror stories of how this company is a poorly ran pyramid scheme. Now I look fucking creepy for no damn reason. Thanks, bro.

But not everything is bad news. Amidst loitering in the magazine aisle of a Safeway, a voice come over the intercom that offered, "Anybody who can correctly answer the trivia question will win a free bag of groceries. The question is: Who'e ear did Mike Tyson bite off in a 1996 boxing match?" Pursuing this endeavor tickled my fancy at first, given that everyone knows that the answer is Evander Holyfield. That was until I had raised my eyes from the latest Sports Illustrated to witness a rather large lady (approximately 20 years of age) in full sprint down the aisle, yelling "EVANDER HOLYFIELD! YO! EVANDER HOLYFIELD!" Two thoughts came through my mind at that moment:

1) I should get out of her way.

2) Although I am 97% positive that I could run faster than her, there was no way I could beat her for the prize, let alone the rest of the other potential fatties flocking to the front of the store that I had not accounted for yet.

It all happened so fast, that by the time I had finally accepted what just happened, she was returning down the aisle panting. She began to shout, "I heard y'all laughin' at me from accross tha store. Y'all aaaaaassholes." At first I thought she was talking about me, but with a quick glance down the other side of the aisle, I saw her thick friends surrounding a cart filled with twelve packs of cola laughing.

Lesson Learned: Do research first, shave second.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

2011-07-20T10:19:00.000-07:00

I have three shows scheduled this upcoming weekend.

First, I am hosting "The Dopest Show", a pot themed comedy show being held at the Comedy Spot, on Thursday night. "The Dopest Show" has been running for over five years, been taken across the nation, and an impressive alumni list. I am gracious for the opportunity and looking forward to potential performing possibilities in the future, but there is one underlying problem: I am not a fan of themed comedy. To me, a good comic will make a joke about anything and everything. Pot, or being under the influence of it, is not hilarious to me, nor are the antics (with a few exceptions) that follow consumption. I know that I will be professional and do my job well, but I guess I am just not looking forward to jokes about how high person A is all night. Hopefully, I am proven wrong and find some really awesome comics. To be ironic, my set will consist of no pot related humor whatsoever. Already, I feel that that is the funniest thing I am going to experience all night.

The man who had booked me to host the show created a private group via the fb for everyone performing on the show. Recently, he added this statement:

"Let's Hope for the best, but Honestly, if AZ does'nt want this show, then Fuck 'em! The ball is in your court AZ!"

Now, I understand that I am being lame, douche bag English Major Guy, but this is pretty putrid. Random capitalization? I hate fb and everyone who thinks it is acceptable to not incorporate grammar because they feel that the internet is an excuse for illiteracy. TYPE THE WAY YOU WISH TO BE RESPRESENTED, ASSHOLE. If you want to disregard simple ideas, such as sentence structure, then I am going to think that you are a huge moron and would have difficulty with a fifth grade English exam. Go ahead and read Twilight and feel accomplished, you fuck.

Saturday night, I am opening at the Comedy Spot with Trevor for Bruce Jingles. Given that Trevor and I have Saturday off of work, it is going to be a great day. Maybe we will hit up the driving range and speak in well crafted verse. Needless to say, I am not worried about it.

Sunday night, I will be performing on the Tempe Improv's "10 for 10" show, which will consist of ten comics doing ten minutes each. Unfortunately, my set has to be absolutely clean. I am pretty positive that I will be able to do this, yet I fear that I will go into auto-pilot and just let loose. Hopefully, I refrain from pissing off the super Christian owner and am asked back. It would also be awesome if he decided to give me five hundred dollars cash.

So, we will see.

I lost my sun glasses today.

2010-11-29T16:18:00.000-08:00

My sun glasses hung on the collar of my t-shirt while I dumped hard in a Starbuck's bathroom. Slightly leaning forward to wipe, my sunglasses fell from my neck and landed on my boxers, bouncing them between my legs and into the dump filled toilet bowl. There is no amount of rubbing alcohol that will clean away the memory of seeing my glasses float in shit and piss. God damnit, that is another 10-15 dollars that I have to spend.

Ball in the Family

2010-11-24T18:41:00.001-08:00

Ball in the Family from The Yoked Control on Vimeo.

Thanksgiving

2010-11-24T18:34:00.000-08:00

Happy "Let's pretend that we were actually friends with the Native Americans" Day!

I think this is my best poem.

2010-11-05T05:12:00.000-07:00

The prompt was about being stuck in an elevator by yourself.

Sorry I was late

All I wanted was a bag of Funyuns
and the fourth floor vending machine

to have some. Onion flavored rings
will solve everything.

I’ve been staring at “L” for 23 minutes
now contemplating what I have done

paralyzed with how dumb
this excuse sounds.

Shouting for help does nothing,
but make me feel like I’ve tried

everything. Nothing. No help.
“In case of fire or Funyuns, use the stairs.”

I once saw a Youtube clip of a man
trapped in an elevator for 41 hours.

Man,
fuck.

Cell phone at the desk
I am unvoiced.

I check my watch as if it could
shoot a laser to carve myself an escape.

The reflection forces me to stare at the face
of my reckless decision.

I am a fish whose owner went on vacation
and may possibly never come back.

I could be here for a while.
All I wanted was a bag of Funyuns.

Another Poem.

2010-11-05T05:06:00.000-07:00

This poem had to be about a relative.

The Worst Thanksgiving Ever

No matter how hard I try, I will never forget
those bulky glasses that magnified that vacant stare,
or the way he filled a room
horizontally and vertically.
Whenever he breaches his lips,
Hammond, Indiana, can be heard.

He constantly reminded everyone of
his post office adventures
by dressing the part
every
single
day.
Short short short blue shorts,
his ill-fitting hat that hid
his bald head,
and the shirt that held his fat
like a dam moments
before it bursts.

I never understood his fascinations with Iguanas
nor the need for him to let them crawl
beneath his shirt
inside McDonalds.
My burger was nicely
complimented with stares.

Still a child, I was relieved
when he justified himself
with the simple excuse
“I’m homosexual, Brian.”

“That’s great, Uncle Jim,
I thought you were fucking crazy.”

Late Poem Updates.

2010-11-05T04:50:00.000-07:00

This was prompt number 2. The poem had to be about a specific item.

“Bro-Truck”

Bros pack the cab
slamming Monsters
over-hyping keggers.
Brah, that sloot was slammin’.
High fives dispensed
like breath mints
over the weekend’s box score.
Jack Johnson battles Dave Matthews
for bro-supremacy
supplying the voice
for all their emotions.

The bed, a cattle cart
chauffeuring bros to their
bro-destinations
while soliciting promises to shorties
of, like, a good time, you know?
Hormones inflate faster than
their raging biceps
as they lounge, lifted
above everyone.

Sick rims, dudebrah. Metal Mulisha and shit.

A truck infested with such
athleticism, charm, promise
screeches
into Dream Palace.

My First Assignment in My Poetry Class

2010-09-13T00:08:00.000-07:00

Rich Kids Playing War
By Brian Rhoads

I spent last week crawling in Afghanistan
amidst air conditioning, walls decorated
with images of plentiful Thanksgiving dinners
and too many pillows and Cheez itz.
I heard a little boy’s voice,
Innocent, naïve, non-comprehendible.
Could not have been older than 8;
a child has no purpose with war whatsoever.
Fourteen year olds shout curse words
and sing their tone deaf melodies
because their parents are asleep
on the other side of the house.
The young child cries hate
while his father defends
that his boy is in training for his forcible future.
If only he knew
that that is what is wrong with the world.
Oh, the lessons taught by Xbox.

I will post my teacher's/classmate's feedback. Post yours, friends!

R33F3R M@DN355

2010-08-19T09:10:00.000-07:00

Before 7 am today, I had been asked for r33f3r twice.

First Occurance (6:35 am): Upon boarding the lightrail, a kid who appeared to be fifteen made eye contact with me and motioned for me to take off my headphones. After pausing my mp3 player (which I must use the term "mp3 player" because I do not have an ipod or other mp3 player that is recognizable by one word), I leaned in closer to hear the kid's request.

KID "Hey man, you get down?"
ME "Pardon?"
KID "You smoke?"
ME "Yes. Are you asking me for a cigarette?"
KID "Naw, dawg. Do you have any bud?"

His query was quite audible to anyone and everyone else on the lightrail. He even said the word "bud" real shitty-like, kind of how they do in those very religious after school specials. You know, where the square gets handed a joint and after figuring out what it is sheepishly asks, "Is this... mar-uh-wanna?"

ME "No, dude."
KID "Why not?"
ME "I'm in public."
KID "So?"
ME "No, dude."

At this point, I carry on with my mp3 player and watch him mouth the words "mother fucker" at me. We remained silent for the remainder of my lightrail experience.

Second Occurance (6:50 am): Walking towards school, I was moving along on University Dr. when I notice a girl sticking her head out of her window while driving. She made a very unsafe left turn and came to a screetching halt. Initially, I was confused. She called me over to her window, and because I am dumb, I followed. Immediately, this scene looking kid jumps out of the passenger seat and shakes my hands like we've been boys for years. I had a hard time listening to him due to the fact that I was still trying to figure out if I knew/was supposed to know this guy.

SCENE KID "Hey, yo, man. You know where I can find some r33f3r?"
ME "Right now?"
SCENE KID "Yeah."
ME "It's daylight."
SCENE KID "I know."
ME "No, bro."

He instantly becomes disgusted with me and runs back to the car he hopped out of. They pulled back towards University Dr. and flipped me off before they sped off. TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT.

Now, I understand that I look like I partake in r33f3r related activities, but to assume that I am carrying r33f3r on me at all times (especially in broad daylight and in public) is just fucking obscene. People do not know the proper way of acquiring r33f3r. When I used to work with Trevor (at a location that will not be mentioned or discussed whatsoever), he retorted to a young patron who had made the same mistake as my forementioned run-ins, saying, "You are either a terrible undercover cop or just fucking dumb." I feel like I will be asked at least 2 more times today by complete strangers, and 3 more times by people I actually know. Man, fuck.

Comedy "Enthusiast"

2010-06-09T20:25:00.000-07:00

This bothers me:

"It took me awhile to decide if I should write this bio in the third person but then figured how personal is that? I mean this is facebook, the most intimate of all internet sites, so I just need to be me. There is no grand story of how I stumbled into comedy and to be honest, here I am almost 3 years later and have come to learn the stumbling never really stops. There is nothing out there like being on a stage in front of the world...or at least a couple hundred people you bribed to come see you that night...but it’s a rush that doesn’t go away, it just makes you crave it more. Thanks to a recent event at a show...I have come to the realization of the obvious. The best part of being a stand up comedian is that night in and night out, unless you’re a hack, you get to take yourself on stage. Just like in everyday life, some will love you, some will hate you, some won’t get you. Regardless of the situation, they will all respect you and it’s kinda cool to know that, good show or "bad" show, another mic is waiting tomorrow to do it all over again. I feel very blessed to do what I do for a living and get no greater enjoyment than knowing I may have made someone’s day better because of something I had to say that they could relate to on some level. You never know why someone needs or wants to laugh, maybe it was a bad day, week, month, maybe you are celebrating something, maybe you just wanna go out and forget your troubles, whatever the reason, I enjoy the opportunity to leave an impression when you come to my show. So, if you are interested in booking info for clubs, parties, or corporate events send me a message here or contact me at... otherwise I’ll look forward to seeing you at a show, and please say hi...see ya soon"

As you can probably tell, this was written by someone who has done/still currently does stand up comedy in Arizona. No, it wasn't me (thank god). But why does this make me want to slowly rip out every organ in my body through my dickhole you ask? Don't worry, I'll explain:

- We get it, brah. You like making people laugh. Who doesn't? You don't have to write a fucking novel about it, man. Just say, "I like to make people laugh" or "I consider myself as a comedian."

- What is your definition of a "bad" show?

- Fuck, dude.

- This seems more of a desperate plea for others to consider you as a comedian than any actual description about you, defeating the purpose of a "Bio."

- You open your Facebook Bio with, "It took me awhile to decide if I should write this bio in the third person but then figured how personal is that?" This sentence is unnecessary and I'm sure that you spent a lot of time on this. More importantly, it is "a while," sir.

- "There is no grand story of how I stumbled into comedy and to be honest, here I am almost 3 years later and have come to learn the stumbling never really stops." Not really helping your case of trying to convince people that you're a comedian, eh Anthony?

- REPLACE YOUR ELLIPSES WITH COMMAS, DUDE.

- "You never know why someone needs or wants to laugh, maybe it was a bad day, week, month, maybe you are celebrating something, maybe you just wanna go out and forget your troubles, whatever the reason, I enjoy the opportunity to leave an impression when you come to my show." Yes, because you MUST have a reason to want/need to laugh.

At first I was paranoid of posting this, but I really don't care if this guy reads it, to be honest. I feel justified because this is what comes up if you are looking at his profile and are not friends with him on Facebook.

Tight

2010-03-03T00:51:00.001-08:00

ICP is performing at the Marquee Theater tonight meaning there are a fuck ton of Juggalos invading Mill Ave. I drove by at least three times honking my horn and screaming at the top of my lungs, "All of you are faggots." I could tell they heard me because they flipped me off and began slewing their own inaudible insults. Now, I must find something to do so that I could drive by the theater again.

I think I'll go to the gym... I've gotten rather "doughy" as of late. Too much beer, I'd say.

Fuck I need to stop being such a coward and write more.

I don't care what you think, this is still funny.

2010-02-16T19:28:00.000-08:00

Bonobo - Mating Animals
Uploaded by armand14. - Discover more animal videos.

Two Weeks Notice

2010-02-09T04:18:00.001-08:00

I woke up Monday morning and immediately wrote my two weeks notice. It was an exhilarating experience despite the actual length of my notice. The letter in its entirety:

February 7, 2010

To Whom It May Concern:

I am sad to inform you that this is my two weeks notice. My last day of work will be Sunday, February 21, 2010.

Best of luck,

Brian C. Rhoads

I left it on the manager's desk as I was finished closing the store. I wanted to say so much more about how that store has sucked out my soul and robbed me of whatever innocence I may have had left. I've been happier ever since. Dobbins asked me today how I felt and I could not summon up the words due to an overwhelming amount of thoughts that ran through my head.

Tuesday night I passed a man who was obviously fucked up and holding a handful of change on my way to class. Along with his defeated slouch, he was sporting a San Francisco 49ers jacket (that I'm sure was fresh in the 90's) and a black trucker hat with no logo. He approached me and held out one quarter and murmured the words, "Hey, yo, bro, I know you gots the sugar. Hook me up with some sugar." Sadly, I did not come through with the sugar and continued walking. The man begins walking behind me at approximately 5 paces behind and proceeds to ask everyone passing us for sugar. It was tight. It was like he knew that I wanted to hear as much of his daily interactions as possible.

I was heading to my Harlem Renaissance class, the class where white kids feel they get the green light to say the 'n' word as much as possible. Notable characters:
1) "Desperately Trying to Be Different" Girl - She has a wild haircut and wears the same denim jacket with a "The Cramps: Bad music for bad people" patch safety pinned to the back of it. Isn't she unique? I overheard her exchanging jokes with other classmates. When it was her turn, she said,"Ummmm, well, what's the difference between roast beef and pea soup? Anyone can roast a beef, but no one can pee soup!!! I heard that on iCarly." For those of you who do not know what iCarly is, be happy. My only justification for knowing this shit is my seven year old niece.
2) "Girl Who Desperately Wants to Be the 'Desperately Trying to Be Different' Girl" Girl - She constantly glances over at Example 1 for an indication of how to react to nearly everything. All that will make her happy is Example 1's acceptance. She is also mad dumpy.
3)Crazy Asian Lady - This one is my favorite. She is in her sixties and can barely speak any English. I am not mocking her for either one of these traits, but what you also need to know is that she is fucking crazy. She will utter a half-coherent sentence whenever she wants and has also been asked kindly by several people in her vicinity to stop grabbing their shit. On several occasions, I have seen her eat a bag of chips by holding the bottom of the bag with her hand and eating straight out of the bag with her mouth. Tight.

Good Morning.

2010-01-30T16:39:00.000-08:00

This is the second time within a year that I have been robbed. You can see where the thief used the screwdriver.

Ahhh

2010-01-25T17:31:00.000-08:00

Shortly after my last post, my computer became infested with viruses and completely shut down. Bruce E. Bruce, having taken a community college course in computer technology, deemed that my computer was in such bad condition that he needed to rebuild the computer entirely. Today was the first day I have connected to our wireless router in over 3 months... The first thing I did when I got the internet working was attempt to quit my MySpace account. This shit is impossible.

Since then, I would spend my time at home watching terrible television. I kept up with Wifeswap and Jersey Shore, but I fell into a habit of watching terrible movies filmed back in 1996. The latest one was "The Fan" (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0116277/). You try and find something worse. I went through a "Saved by the Bell" phase lately, but luckily for me, Cheaters comes on around the same time. I'll watch Lifetime movies, prison documentaries, Secrets of Aspen... Hell, I'll even watch "For the Love of Ray J," but I stop at "My Life as Liz." That shit is just garbage.

I'm too excited to have the internet right now... I must pause in my writings. Here are two amazing videos:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amFdmB_t-DY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zn1mKOnWn_Q

Cut Me Up, Brah.

2009-10-31T16:24:00.000-07:00

Holy shit. This story starts at the beginning.

So near the tail end of my shift, I was pissing irregularly and constantly. It was embarrassing to have to take so many breaks from work, but I had to do what I had to do. Ty and a couple of my coworkers suggested that it was a UTI (Urinary Tract Infection) and recommended that I slam as much cranberry juice as possible. Doing this made shit intense.

I have what is called a stricture (a pinch in the urethra [your piss tube, brah]) which causes me to piss irregularly and slowly. Normal people piss like a faucet on full blast, where as I piss like a faucet barely turned on. I had surgery back in 2005 to correct this, but after about a year, the symptoms starting showing again in a slight manor. I remember after that surgery, I sat in a papasan chair (HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SPELL THAT?) and watched a marathon of the Venus and Serena Williams Reality show. I'm a glutton for punishment via terrible TV?

Cut back to slamming cranberry cocktail. Around 8:30pm, I was freaking out in my bathroom trying to piss. I called my sister who had informed me about all the possibilities it could have been and convinced me to at least get it checked out. I was freaking the fuck out, needless to say. At the emergency room, I was assigned a hot nurse who was really calming and friendly. Of course they give me the hot nurse during this embarrassing penis dilemma. I wish I shaved my balls. They ran tests on my urine and even checked to see how much urine was in my system. I had more urine in my bladder than the machine could calculate; They estimated that I had over a liter of piss in my bladder. I looked like one of those pot bellied children in a third world country.

She (hot nurse) attempted to put in a cathader but could not insert it completely due to my reappearing stricture. They even tried a smaller one to see if they could squeeze it past my stricture to empty up my bladder but ended up with the same result. They had to transfer me to a hospital which had an on-call Urologist who would actually respond. Dr. Heiland was the only person I encountered who didn't have a sense of humor. Understandably, I was the asshole who woke her up at 4am.

Sidenote: In both hospitals, there was a drunk man handcuffed to a stretcher. The one at the first hospital had the net mask so he couldn't spit at the cops/nurses. It was humorous to hear the staff just talk to this drunk fuck.

DF: GET ME OUT OF HERRRRE I DONT WANT TO BE HERRE UNCHAIN ME CUT THIS OFF CUT OFF CUT OFFF
NURSE: That is my favorite type of t-shirt. What's your favorite band? (In attempt to calm this fucker down)
DF: (I shit you not, but the guy began yelling:) ICP! ICP! ICP!

hahahahahaha. The second guy was wasted and wouldn't comply with the hospital staff. Instead, he just kept calling the cops 'faggots' and screaming 'ow' as loud as he could. Also, as I was being wheeled to the ambulance, I saw several dumpy girls passed out (and tied down) on stretchers. Awesome.

Anyways, I had the surgery again and now have to have a cathedor (however you fucking spell it. Right clicking it doesn't help... they just think I'm trying to spell cathedral) for a week. Awesome.... right?

The best part of the whole experience for me was seeing my family, especially my sister. She came through when I needed her the most and was a big sister. I know it sounds stupid, but my sister and I never really got along too well until she moved to Arizona with us. At that point in time, I was 16 and 'independent' and refused any type of help. But last night, I finally had my older sister.

That and seeing Sadie always makes me happy. I love you so much, Sadie. You're getting a great Christmas present (like you always do).

This was the spoOooOooOOOokiest Halloween I have ever had. Be safe, kids.

2009-10-10T19:30:00.000-07:00

Invitation - Shel Silverstein

If you are a dreamer, come in,
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire
For we have some fla-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
come in!

2009-09-28T05:09:00.000-07:00

So a couple days ago, I finally figured out why I couldn't connect to the internet and I felt completely retarded. It was basically the first time I had tried as opposed to just saying "fuck it" and played Super Nintendo for hourz. I have also been really fucking busy over the past weeks which results in me being a lazy shit whenever I am at home. Anyways, I digress. This post would have been last night, but I watched an ungodly amount of porn and royally pounded one out. It was quite miraculous.

I got a 94/100 on my sign language video tape, mother fucker!

I typed "wacky picture" into Google and this picture came up with the caption "Grandma's are so wacky!" Incredible. Incredibrah? Just maybe.

Farce Side has been going swell. We are getting better every week.

Friday night at work, I was driving through a bro palace (a condo community leased out to a bunch of bros and slooterz w#0 k@n b 533n @t dUh p3WL @t @LL t1m3zZ!1!!) and saw a sloot stumbling in the middle of the street and eventually directly in front of my Honda CR-V. She stared right into my eyes and said...

SLOOT: If I show you my tits, will you give me a pizza?
ME: Absolutely.

Before I could finish the word, she already had her nipples exposed, defenseless to the moonlight and covered parking. I am an honest man; She had awesome boobs. Good for her. After a moment...

ME: Sorry, miss, but I sell sandwiches. Later.

I drove off towards the automatic gates and back to the store. I'm pretty sure she didn't really care or even remember it in the morning.

Time to sleep so I can fucking throw it down in sign language.

WU TANG!

I thought I just saw someone smoking in the computer lab.

2009-09-23T10:33:00.000-07:00

I had this weird fucking dream where I was on the cast of Saved by the Bell (during when Mario Lopez was yet to be on cast). Everything was going swimmingly, until I realized where the fuck I was. I even remember walking with the "Alex" character and explaining to him that I'm 22. He then told me to go chat with Ms. Bliss.

I'm 22...

Matt Stafford Picture

2009-09-13T12:13:00.000-07:00

see more Sports Pictures

haha

b0n3RzZ

2009-09-02T14:40:00.000-07:00

I'm glad auditions are over. By the second day, I was done with watching the same awful sketches and wanted to kill myself. I was surprised when my sketch wasn't the shittiest and a little disappointed, to be honest. I tried really hard to make my sketch fucking awful. No one got naked. I don't know how to further comment on it.

Also...

Fuck Jon and Kate and all eight of their stupid fucking children. They are not extraordinary other than the fact that she squeezed out 8 of those little shits. STOP SHOWING UP IN PEOPLE MAGAZINE OR ELSE I WONT HAVE ANYTHING ELSE TO READ WHILE IM POOPING AT MY PARENT'S HOUSE!

I am also glad that last week finally fucking ended. It was nice seeing my brother, but I just had way too much shit to do. Fucksicles. Time to put together a show.

Terrible Audition Sketch!

2009-08-30T15:22:00.000-07:00

Every semester for ASUComedy auditions, we write terrible fucking sketches in hopes that people who are auditioning will make it funny. I am trying to make it impossible.

Here is my sketch.

(Lights up on a man and a woman walking to a check out counter.)

GARY: I just don't understand why you can't buy them yourself!

LISA: I told you already, I just want company.

GARY: But you're buying tampons.

LISA: Stop being such a pussy. I need to go grab some more things, I'll be right back.

GARY: Hurry up! We are next.

(Lisa leaves)

CLERK: Welcome to Walmart.

GARY: Uh, hi. I guess we'll just take these.

CLERK: Is this a joke, sir?

GARY: What?

CLERK: You're a boy.

GARY: Yes.

CLERK: A boy buying tampons.

GARY: Yes.

CLERK: Alright, sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

(Lisa enters.)

LISA: Hey Gary, I found those Men's One-A-Day vitamins you've been looking for.

CLERK: Now what's this?

LISA: What?

CLERK: A woman buying man pills and a man buying tampons?! What kind of game are you two playing here?

GARY: I was just buying my girlfriend tampons...

CLERK: I don't want to even know what YOU are going to do with those, pervert!

LISA: (To Gary) Is this guy serious?

CLERK: Are YOU serious?

LISA: What?

CLERK: Zibbity ZOP ZOP ZOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

(The clerk then proceeds to get naked.)

GARY: You make everything awful, Lisa.

(Lightz)

I really shouldn't be angry

2009-08-15T05:51:00.000-07:00

Man... What the fuck?

Why the fuck am I still at the same fucking loser job?

I can't complain about my miserable night because it is my own damn fault for not getting the fuck out of there!

Fuck those simpleton fucks who slump into our store, don't fucking tip, bark orders, and never buy a fucking cup, yet grab 3 water cups! Fuck bro-dawgs shouting about who loves pussy more, or whose Ed Hardy t-shirt is more dank. Fuck those tone deaf slooters massacring the chorus to Biz Markie. I'm done listening to the same Bob Marley/Incubus/Sublime/Red Hot Chili Peppers/311/Weezer/stupid fucking bro music.

IF YOUR FRIEND IS JUST USING THE BATHROOM, DO NOT PRETEND LIKE YOU ARE LOOKING AT THE MENU DEBATING WHETHER OR NOT TO ORDER SOMETHING. We all know what's going on. Cut that bullshit out.

This has become what to be expected nightly. But tonight was far worse due to how I was treated by my manager. In my two years of being employed there, I have never felt so degraded and disrespected by a co-worker, let alone manager.

If you are reading this, you know who you are. You preach integrity and hard work. You're supposed to walk the line, not... nevermind.

I am also mad because I know that he wont remember shit in the morning, but I will.

I hate to say it, but I miss Mutz.

Vegas Trip

2009-08-10T12:46:00.000-07:00

For my Dad's birthday, my brother, Mom, and I decided to surprise him with a trip to Las Vegas. I had a good time hanging out with my family and learned/saw some serious shit.

Location: Sky Harbor Airport
1) The Burger King was happenin' at 6:30 am.
2) The bar I went to had regulars.
3) I could not find bro fuel anywhere. This upset me.

Location: Airplane
1) I sat next to two giggling girls on their way to Las Vegas for a "girls trip." They already had their skanky dresses on and took pictures of themselves almost the entire trip. For a while, I pretended that I was asleep so that I did not have to take a stupid fucking picture of them holding up their $7 cocktails. They giggled about everything possible. Every sentence was accompanied by the sounds of high pitched slootery. There was some serious dick hunting to be done by these women of the twilight.

Location: Shuttle to the Luxor
Me: Hey dude, let me see your camera.
Dustin: I don't have mine. It was stolen.
Me: Shut up.
Dustin: Yeah, it was stolen out of my car.
Me: Get the fuck out of here.
Dustin: Yeah, dude, I was robbed.
Me: You left your car unlocked on your driveway, huh?
Dustin: You were robbed, too, weren't you?
Me: Yup.

We were quiet for the rest of the bus ride.

Location: Luxor
1) I discovered that my mom has a fear of escalators. Huh.
2) In the same night, I also learned that my Dad has a third nipple.
3) At about 5am, my Dad returned from his gambling and proceeded to get ready for bed. Amidst his preparation, I heard him wake my mother with an ever so endearing comment, "Lois, I think I took Jenny's god damned birth control!" Whaaaaaaaaaaat?
4) Carrot Top and Criss Angel advertisements EVERYWHERE. The shit made my dick soft.
5) There were 20-25 of those people who hand out the strip club cards in a row. It was pretty fucking amazing. I tried making a deal with them that I would take as many of their flyers as they wanted if I could just run down the line and have everyone give me a low five like they do when they introduce basketball players. They didn't understand anything I was saying and continued to flick their advertisements at me.

Location: Car ride home.
1) We stopped at a Chevron/McDonald's to fuel up and use the restrooms. Inside the McDonald's, I counted 35 people. No kidding, 35 people. I would have taken a picture of them, but you cannot really tell what is what on my camera phone.

Awesome.

The Mutz in the Mirror

2009-07-24T05:46:00.000-07:00

Today was the last day of my Summer Astronomy 111 class. I was thrown off when Mutz walked in wearing a tan button up shirt (with the sleeves rolled up) as opposed to his several shades of blue. I'm just glad that it's over.

I was having a pretty shitty night until I saw a girl vomit in her own hair behind a dumpster.

Farewell, Steve Mutz.

Weird

2009-07-07T09:21:00.000-07:00

Over the past couple of months, Twix has been releasing commercials with the theme "Need a minute?" This is applied to scenarios where people pause reality in order to find a lie to get them out of their situation. I have noticed that in most cases, it is a guy lying to a girl about how shitty he is, resulting in her being all about his shit. So listen up guys, if you want to trick that bitch, eat some Twix and she won't realize how much a loser you really are!

Bro-bot

2009-07-05T08:03:00.000-07:00

Freedom

2009-07-05T06:10:00.000-07:00

This week has been absolutely absurd! Re-Re-Re-Recap!

Sunday, June 28th, 2009: While driving home from Gilbert, the wheel well of my mighty CR-V began stripping the rubber right off of my tires while I was on the 101. After shitting my pants, I pulled over and scoped the damage. It WuZ t0rRRr3 uP fRuM d@ fL0 uP but was surprisingly still inflated and holding up the car. I could still move just fine so I decided to take side streets home. Arriving to the house safely, I instantly began changing the tire only to realize that the spare tire was completely flat. Fucking ironic, huh?

Monday, June 29th, 2009: Around 11am, Trevor followed me to the conveniently close Discount Tire. It's not in the shittiest part of Tempe, but never really a pleasure to be in. Ever. My Dad has been politely reminding me to not be fucking retarded and get my wheels aligned. I called the store that Discount Tire recommended and was disappointed to find out that the closest place they endorsed was in the heart of Mesa. Later in the conversation, I find out that they cannot fit me in today. The later half of my day was unsettling due to the facts that:

a) I have to drive to school and work a night shift inside my recently discovered death trap.
b) I just spent $100 on the tire after spending @LL d3m d0LL@zZz on my tattoo (which is officially named "Bro-bot").
c) I have plans to go to Mesa (as opposed to have gone on a whim).

I cannot recall anything worth noting from work, but I can assure you it was awful. I just realized that I refuse to use the word "highway" when in fact referring to an actual highway. Uggh.

Tuesday, June 30th, 2009: I fucking slept through my alarm again and missed my 12:30 appointment time. Luckily, the alignment shop could squeeze me in before class; Now instead of just being disappointed about going to Mesa, I have to hurry to Mesa. Well needless to say, Mesa followed through on it's backwards and primitive ways.

Inside the waiting room/cash register/vending lobby, I watched Judge Alex for one whole hour. Creepy, yes, but what is worse is the man in the white hat. This guy did not blink at all whenever the program was on. He was laughing, groaning, and cheering along for the entire fucking hour.

This lady creeped me out the most. She sat directly to my left and kept looking at me. I definitely get points for this picture.

Wednesday, July 1st, 2009: My Dad called me about a week ago and let me know about this sweet air hockey table and big screen TV that I could have. I can't complain about that at all except for the fact that in order to transport it, I would have to return to Mesa to grab a truck. Other than that one nit-picky sidenote, awesome.

After that, I went to class and work. The only funny part of the night was that I found out one of my coworkers is religious (to what extent, I am not fully positive.) I discovered this during a conversation I was having with a customer. Here is how it went:

Me: (In a Southern Gentleman's voice. Details are unnecessary.) Why, even God himself wouldn't mind a mint julip such as yourself. (Breaking character) Oh, I'm sorry. God HERself.

Coworker: You really believe that?

Me: What? God is a woman?

Coworker: Yeah.

Me: No, I don't believe in God.

Coworker: That's too bad.

Me: Work here for two years...

Matt Dobbins: ...Then we'll ask you about that "God" fellow.

Thursday, July 2nd, 2009: Nothing about Thursday sucked. We drank at Casey's.

Friday, July 3rd, 2009: Today was one of the days I was supposed to request off and because of my negligence, I had to leave Penny's barbecue early. Fucking lame! I will be on the cover of next months edition of DUH Magazine. Meanwhile, work was only bearable due to the people I was working with. Also, I saw a man easily 70+ years old and wearing an Ed Hardy shirt. Ask me for the picture(I got the company logo in there and will not fuck around with that shit). We all came to the conclusion that it must have been a real life Freaky Friday, in which that man was obviously switched with his grandson and the only way to change back is if they truly learn to respect each other.

Saturday, July 4th, 2009: After work (4:45am), I drove to Gilbert to attend my family's barbecue. Yet another barbecue I had to leave early because of work. Barbecues don't happen all the time and I missed two in a fucking row. Sadie was apart of this bike parade where kids decorated their bikes and rode around the man-made lake twice. I have pictures, I just left my camera in G-Town. I really need to stop doing that. They gave some bullshit award to one of the coordinator's kids and Sadie was heartbroken that she did not win "Best Bike." I did not sleep until 9:30am. I refuse to talk about personal family business on the internet, but I will not hide my disapproval of the entire situation. The only words that come to mind are "awful" and "dishonorable."

I had to work out of another location because of Mill Avenue being shut down on the account of the 4th of July festivities at Tempe Town Lake. I didn't know anybody who worked at this store and just stared as they shot off inside jokes. They were cool people, but not my style. This is what one lady ordered:

She was a sweet lady, but what the fuck, dude? Seriously. Here are some things that sucked:

1) Traffic at 10pm. It took me one and a half hours to get to work.
2) I was heard announcing, "I know for a fact that Dream Palace is 18 and up" aloud in the middle of a QT.
3) I am unsatisfied with the quality of my mustache.

Now here are things that were notably awesome:

1) I told a girl,"3y3 3M @LL d@ fYR3w3rkKkz u n33d, 6uRL." She awkwardly laughed as she simultaneously shut the door.
2) Freedom jokes/references.
3) My USA lighter.

I also realized that I have seen every sunrise and sunset this week, just not in the order I would have hoped for. God, I miss sleep.

I kind of feel like I have to sum it all up, but fuck that.

Ahhhwesome

2009-06-17T06:43:00.000-07:00

Tim (G-Rich) showed me this video while we were broing. Ignore the douchey guy introducing the video; he's revolting.

MTV is making it hard to have the sex with high schoolerzZz.

2009-06-17T05:36:00.000-07:00

My astronomy test had an extra credit question that said:

"Name the big astronomical event happening next Sunday!!"

And yes, he actually had two exclamation points... Way to go, Steve Muts. Your teaching is outta this world!

I have no fucking idea what is happening next Sunday in Astronomy and neither do you. In the answer space, I wrote "Father's Day, you doofus!" I chuckled at first and began to erase it. Let's face it, I don't want to start shit with Steve Muts and make the next 8 weeks just fucking terrible for myself.

But as I began erasing, I noticed that the eraser on the pencil I borrowed (from Steve Muts) did not erase as planned, but left a horrid, rash-like circle on my paper drawing more attention towards my dickhead comment. I felt obligated to attempt an actual answer and so I wrote "Saturn will be visible" off to the side.

I just reached for my glass of water and as I pulled the glass closer to my mouth, I heard a buzzing noise. Immediately, I turned my head to see what was the matter and saw a fly clinging onto the rim. Thinking nothing of it, I simply blew at the fly which resulted in the fly landing in my glass and dying. Now there is a glass with a dead fly in it sitting on my desk. I almost sipped the fly-water twice while writing that. I think that means I have to quit my job.

Speaking of! At work, I delivered to the same guy twice. Sadly, this has happened to me quite often as well as delivering to the same person for consecutive days and or multiple days of the week. What makes this customer special is that he order twice within the span of two hours. I made and delivered both orders. I saw his depressing apartment, complimented by his loser friend, appropriately sprawled on the couch with some of his stomach showing, twice. Here's how the first conversation went:

Guy paying for food: Silvermine guy!
Mooch loser on couch: Dude, do you want a shot?
Myself, delivering sandwiches: Nah, man. I've gotta expect the max.
Guy paying for food: Like, what's the max?
Mooch doucher: So, um, do you want a beer?
Myself, looking stunning: I'm working, dude. I could go to jail. I do not want to be arrested in a Silvermine t-shirt.
Guy: Aw, come on, bro! Just have one beer.
Myself, delivering justice: Now its awkward, man. I just want to go.

And that is how I exited the scene. I was surprised to see he tipped me well, but it also creeped me out a little more. I imagined he was just embarrassed by the entire scene, but he decided to order again. On the drive over there, I became upset with myself for never putting Trevor's huge flashlight in my car. I was nervous approaching the door; t#@n6z 60t KkR@Z33 L@$t tYm33 3Y3 wUzZ d@r3!!! Here's how it went the second time:

(Door opens)
Guy: Silvermine!
Myself: Hey, guy. Do you have the card it was charged to?
Douche: (Handing over the card) Hey man, do you want a beer?
Myself: (Handing receipt for signature) No. We had this conversation. No.
Guy: (Signing) No way, bro. You sure you don't just want a beer or three for the road?
Myself: (Walking away, shouting) EXPECT THE MAX!

Un-fucking-believable.

Also notable from work: This bro dawg would not answer his phone, thus preventing me from delivering his stupid fucking sandwich and returning to the store. I sat outside his fraternity for 8 minutes, calling him every 2 minutes. I even left him a sassy voicemail. Finally, I honked my horn and shouted "Fuck you, Justin" as loud as I could and sped off. Seriously, fuck you, Justin. Answer your fucking phone.

I think that I am just going to leave that glass on my desk.

Hahahahaha

2009-06-08T11:53:00.000-07:00

Brett Michaels (from Rock of Love) at the Tony's!

Random Thoughts While Working

2009-06-03T05:54:00.001-07:00

I noticed tonight as I peered from behind that dreaded register at work how much I hate the question "Do you have to go number one or number two?" Either way, you are going to piss. You're an asshole for asking this question. I would love to meet the person, male or female, who can poop without peeing, because that is a task that I just cannot do. End of discussion.

I have never had the opportunity to "hate fuck" anyone, so I've just settled for "hate bating." What can a girl say when you confidently proclaim, "I've hate bated the shit out of you"? Take that, ex-girlfriendz.

Also, what the fuck is up with the latest Kentucky Fried Chicken commercials? Specifically, I am talking about the one where there's a shot of two people debating 'fried or grilled.' In this commercial, two very stereotypical Japanese men are wearing samurai robes with headbands. All the other races are wearing normal clothes, as if to say that all Japanese people wear that shit. No, that shit is for white kids who have such a boner for anime, that they become cross dressers after you move out of the shitty apartment you shared. I'm not clowning on my roommate who happened to become a cross dresser, he's still a cool person. There is just a very justifiable "what the fuck?" needed.

The Birth of G-Raff

2009-05-27T17:26:00.001-07:00

It started out as an idea for a sketch that Trevor pitched to me a long time ago. The original idea was that the giraffe would be an imaginary friend to a little boy who was abused by his father. With Trevor's approval, I spun the idea just a tad. This is my favorite sketch I have ever performed, hands down. Ty played G-Raff (naturally).

G-Raff the Negligent Giraffe
By Rhoads

(Lights up on a kid watching TV.)

FATHER: Well Billy, it’s Friday night and you know what that means.

BILLY: You’re going to go get Carol drunk at Macaroni Grill and get upset that all she’ll give you is a hand job in your Infiniti M35?

CAROL: Hey!

FATHER: She is your step-mother and you will treat her with respect. Now we will be gone until midnight. I already gave you money for pizza, and do no, and I repeat, DO NOT have anybody over. Are we clear?

BILLY: Yes, Dad.

FATHER: Now, then.

CAROL: (Exiting.) I think I want to get the Calamari Fritti.

(FATHER and CAROL exit.)

BILLY: God damn.

(BILLY begins smoking mad r33f3R. TV ambience in background.)

TV NEWS ANCHOR: This just in; local authorities have just warned that a giraffe escaped from the zoo. Extreme caution should be taken. More information on this at 10. We now take you back to How I Met Your Mother.

BILLY: Ridiculous, man.

(Pause. TV ambience returns. A giraffe pokes his head into the house. It will be a cardboard cut out of a giraffe head/neck with a moveable mouth. A slide whistle will play whenever he enters/exits.)

G-RAFF: Hey there buddy. Whatcha up to?

BILLY: Whaaaaaaaat?

G-RAFF: Hey. Yeah. How are you doing, kid? Smoking some pot? Cool.

(BILLY continues to stare at giraffe and back to his pipe.)

BILLY: Are you the giraffe that’s on the news?

G-RAFF: What? There’s a giraffe on the news? I didn’t even know.

BILLY: Oh cool. Yeah. I guess some giraffe escaped from the zoo.

G-RAFF: Ah fuck.

BILLY: What?

G-RAFF: Uh, nothing. Um, do you want to smoke some pot, Billy?

BILLY: Yeah, man, sure. My stash is upstairs, let me go grab it.

G-RAFF: Oh, hey. Could you do me a favor?

BILLY: What’s that, G-Raff?

G-RAFF: Could you get me some clothes? It’s really cold, you know, being a giraffe and all.

NEWS ANCHOR: This just in, an update about the runaway giraffe. It seems the during escaping, the giraffe shanked three zoo keepers. I repeat, if you see a giraffe, stay away from it at all costs.

BILLY: Holy shit!

G-RAFF: Wow, that sucks. Good thing that it wasn’t me. Hey, weren’t you getting something? The pot? Some clothes?

BILLY: Right.

(BILLY exits behind flats.)

G-RAFF: Jesus Christ, that was close. (Pause.) Oh, is this How I Met Your Mother? God, I love this show. (LAFFZZZ)

(BILLY returns with clothes and r33f3rZzZ.)

BILLY: Alright, G-Raff. Here you go.

(BILLY hands clothes offstage.)

G-RAFF: Awesome. Well, I’m going to get changed. Load that bowl, Billy!

BILLY: Yes, sir!

(G-RAFF exits. Cue slide whistle.)

BILLY: (Pause.) God damn this pot RULES. I am triping fucking balls, dude, oh my god.

NEWS ANCHOR: This just in, an update on the runaway giraffe from the zoo. It seems that the giraffe is hiding in the metro area. He apparently stole a van from the zoo and ran over six pedestrians. This is an extremely dangerous situation and this giraffe is not to be trusted at all.

(G-RAFF returns, with a Hawaiian shirt, hat, sunglasses, and a fake mustache. Cue slide whistle.)

G-RAFF: Muuuch better!

BILLY: Looking sharp, G-Raff! Dude, that giraffe is fucking insane, dude! Apparently he’s killed like forty fucking people. What a fucking creep!

G-RAFF: GIRAFFES ARE MISUNDERSTOOD, ASSHOLE!

(Pause. There’s a knock at the door.)

G-RAFF: Who the fuck is that?

PIZZA GURL: (Offstage) Domino’s pizza.

G-RAFF: Oh shit. Play it cool.

(BILLY opens door and lets in PIZZA GURL.)

PIZZA GURL: That’ll just be $23.44. Oh my god, are you that giraffe that escaped from the zoo?

G-RAFF: Haha, no. No way. I’m just Puerto Rican.

BILLY: Yeah. G-Raff is mad cool. God damn, I left my wallet upstairs. I’ll be right back.

(BILLY exits behind the flats. A long awkward silence is held.)

G-RAFF: So help me God, if you fuck this up for me, I will mother fucking kill you in the face. You do not want to try me, bitch.

(BILLY returns.)

BILLY: Alright, I got them dollazZz. Here you go. Keep the change, dude.

(PIZZA GURL leaves horrified.)

G-RAFF: She was nice.

BILLY: Yeah, man. She was cool.

(Pause. Sirens are heard.)

G-RAFF: Well, I should probably get going.

BILLY: Really, dude? I thought we were going to, like, you know, hang out and shit. I was looking forward to it.

G-RAFF: Yeah, we will, dude. I just gotta catch the light rail. You know how it is, right?

BILLY: Yeah, I guess. Take it easy G-Raff!

G-RAFF: Goodbye, Billy.

(G-RAFF gives BILLY a kiss on the head before he leaves. Cue slide whistle. Pause. G-RAFF enters. Cue slide whistle.)

G-RAFF: Oh, and if you tell anybody about me, I’ll fucking kill you.

(G-RAFF leaves. Cue slide whistle. You can hear the stand out with the police in the background over TV ambience.)

POLICE: (OS) Freeze, giraffe! Don’t move!

G-RAFF: (OS) You guys aren’t taking me down alive!

POLICE: (OS) Don’t do anything stupid, giraffe.

G-RAFF: (OS) Don’t do anything stupid? Do you think I give a FUCK?

POLICE: (OS) Stop!

(Gun shots are heard, followed by a giant splash. BILLY is un-phased and continues to watch television. A long pause occurs. FATHER returns.)

BILLY: Oh hey, Dad. Is the Macaroni Grill packed?

FATHER: No, Carol just didn’t want to give me a hand job. Why is there a dead giraffe wearing my Tommy Bahama clothes in my pool?

(Lightzz)

R.I.P. G-Raff the Giraffe

Another possible death: He was in a stolen Chevy Classic (a fine vehicle, I must say) doing 102 on the freeway. After a long chase from the police, he decided to drive off a cliff and end it all.

It's how he would have wanted it.

Trailer!

2009-05-27T01:00:00.000-07:00

This is the trailer (so far) for the movie I'm in. Bruce Heppler (prostate exam joke) wrote, directed, and edited everything.

tr3wf (Part 1)

2009-05-27T00:42:00.000-07:00

Do not invite me to hang out with you via Facebook Status Update. If you want to hang out with me, then mother fucking call me. It may sound harsh, but honestly, there are a lot of people you are friends with that I would never want to be associated with. The only people you are attracting with an invitation like that are people with nothing better to do than to hang out with you or people who would want to murder you. No fucking thank you.

At least you are warning me your whereabouts. Thanks?

Lady and the Air Conditioner

2009-05-25T19:45:00.001-07:00

Holy shit. My first delivery of the night was to this handicapped woman who lived in a fucking slum of an apartment complex. I was told that I had to knock on this woman's window in the rear of her apartment. There was a note on the receipt that stated, "she has the bigger air conditioner," and that was how I was to recognize her shit-hole. Understandably, Trevor came with me on this delivery in case shit went down and to make sure I had a witness.

After an awkward conversation through her window shades, the lady met us at the front door and explained to us that she "iz in uh hawspituhl bayed ownlee sum uv duh tyme, so duh drivahz delivuh threw duh windaw." Lackluster? Yes, but on the trip to her front door, a man on top of the staircase stared down at us and shouted the words, "Whose the green man?" I did not see him after that.

Also on the second story was a man with his apartment door open while he smoked/shouted on the phone (Of course). He was wearing a black, sleeveless t-shirt with jean shorts and boots. This is what we heard him shout:

"She's going to take her word over mine because I'mma man and she's a woman. It's because I have a dick and she has a pussy. It's bullshit."

And then...

"I want MY last name on her birth certificate, and I want HER to have MY last name! Fuck her mother!"

I don't know what to say.

Awesome

2009-05-25T13:50:00.000-07:00

"I would say nice wife beater, but that's more like a 'male-companion' beater."

-Jas Clay

New Years Pictures in Late May

2009-05-21T07:34:00.000-07:00

I went to Disney World for New Years with my family. I took a lot of pictures, mostly of family, and mostly of the depressing things around me. Here are some of my favorite pictures from the trip:

This guy was a mother fucking trip! I found him in line at ride that is inside the giant golf ball looking shit. I don't know what he's up to, but count me in!

This is the line for that ride. "Soarin' over California"'s wait time was projected to be 5 hours long. People waited in those lines for five hours. Five hours for their fat fucking children to not appreciate the fact that vacations cost a shit ton of money.

This is the angry Spanish lady who was screaming on her cell phone near the entrance of the golf ball ride. Maybe I should just figure out what the fucking name of that ride is, but I doubt anyone reading this cares/knows. Everything about this woman shouts "foreigner."

This was the door to the men's bathroom. Disney sells sex to kidz? NO WAI!

More subtle Disney dick references.

All of the pictures above are tame compared to the shit that comes next...

I was watching this guy for a while. At first, it looked like he was talking to the plant right in front of him. Also, I feel it's just necessary to photograph people you suspect falsely using handicapped scooters. Like Dobbins always says: You were born skinny; you chose to be fat.

The father/boyfriend's hat/short/boot/tit combo almost forces one to overlook the preteen denim-fupa.

No one is touching these strollers. NO ONE!!!

Doesn't this shit piss you off??? FUCK! Also, notice the couple living it up by the trash can.

Let's state the facts up front on this one:
1) Sleeveless American flag shirt.
2) 2 cigarettes.
3) 2 colas.
4) Jorts.
5) Bowl cut.

This is my favorite picture, hands down. Just look at the poor, pathetic kid with the fake glasses! The, what I can just assume, stepfather looks as if he's just about to say, "Yeah, its a Boflex body," at any minute! Also, notice the queer, balding man on the immediate left. And yes, I told Dusty to pose and act as a decoy. He is making the face of what I assume every girl sees before he lays down his sex.

Trevor's Public Service Announcement

2009-05-21T07:32:00.000-07:00

Follow Up: Wednesday, May 13th, 2009

2009-05-19T07:24:00.000-07:00

I am rewriting this entry because there is more to include and focus upon. Here was the original entry:

10 PM - I have one coworker begging me for any type of drug. He has told me he has been awake since Sunday and has neglected to tell me why. He continues to mumble in my direction and get frustrated when I have no fucking clue what he's talking about. Sweet life, bro?

This coworker approached me several times, expressing his desire to do any drug possible. He then proceeded to list every drug known to man. I just nodded and went back to work. He did this three times that night. He then told me he had not slept for 3 days and neglected to answer why. Not suspicious at all, huh, bro?

This same character will get mad at you if you do not: a) understand what he says, b) agree with what he says, and c) pay attention to his nonsense ramblings.

During his shift, he proclaimed that he was not going to do anything for the rest of the night as he was sitting down. This is how it went down:
Coworker: Yo, dawg. I'ma sit down and do nothin' fo' tha rest of duh nyght.
Me: Be careful, dude, Big Brother is watching.
Coworker: Yo, dawg, whoz Big Brotha?
Me: (standing silent in awe.)

I refused to explain to him the reference of Big Brother, and as the night progressed, he continued to guess who Big Brother could possibly be. Also during that night, the air conditioning was broke, causing a ruckus amongst the disgruntled employees. He then called us pussies for complaining about the heat, instantly followed by him announcing to everyone that he wishes he was skinny.

"Yo, Brian, how'd you get so skinny?"

The only response I could give him was, "It's a dedication to a healthy eating habit and lifestyle, dude." He then decided to cut only bacon out of his diet. This coworker was fired shortly after. See Trevor's blog for the scoop!

I Coul'da Been A Contender

2009-05-19T05:50:00.000-07:00

I still do not know what to make of my night. We shall start at approximately 5:00PM.

I was paying tuition for Summer classes at SCC (I guess that is my own fault why my night began so depressingly) when I called a coworker I had previously discussed switching shifts with. Simultaneously, I began driving to the Gamestop in Tempe Marketplace to purchase a PS2 memory card so that I could play Kingdom Hearts 2(Again, my fault). While in Gamestop, I had agreed to come into work at 7:00PM in exchange for her covering my Sunday shift so I can attend the barbeque that my Mom keeps threatening me to attend. Sweet life, brahz0RzZz?

When I came into work, I was given the impression that it had been a slow day. I also was informed that I would be working by myself all night.

@$ +1m3 w3N+ b1, $#33y1+ 60+ cR@zZzZzzz33333333!!!!!11!!LOLOLOLOLZOEY101!!!

I took 9 orders on a single run three separate times, and was incredibly late to about 80% of all deliveries. At first I thought I could handle it, but when I faced my first "9-banger," I instantly grew concerned. I'm pretty sure it was at this point when I discovered the new kid, the bro-dawg who was supposed to be "on-call" in case shit got busy, was piss drunk in a bar.

Apparently, another manager at my store told the kid to expect us to know whether or not we will need his help by 7:00PM. I had no idea of this and didn't need to call him until 10:00PM. I'm not mad at him because I could understand him not getting a call and assuming that he wasn't needed. I just don't understand why this manager would deem 7PM a reasonable time for that. The manager I was working with convinced me that the new kid was kind of retarded, and didn't have the skillzzzzZz to create such a creative lie. So, I have no fucking idea. In all honesty, I was just pissed that I had to deliver 1 hour plus old food to everyone, all night.

But as I continued my journey, I realized that people were very understanding of the situation and hooked it the fuck up. I also realized at the end of the night that I was in the store for a total of approximately 30 minutes (prior to d01n6 d@ d1$#3zZz). Every time I would walk into the store, I would see a mountain of brown bags next to towers of cola. I would pack my delivery bags and get the fuck out.

The greatest thing is that I truly did not give a fuck past 10:30PM. It is also worthy to point out that no drugs and or alcohol was consumed from the hours of 5PM-3:45AM. I was comfortable at the rate in which I was delivering the sandwiches. If anyone complained, fuck them. I got back to the store and only had to do the dishes. My manager cleaned the lobby for me and I was home by 3:45AM. Get the fuck out. Geeeeeeet the fuck out. That shit should not have turned out so fucking cool. WU TANG LIKE A MOTHER FUCKER!

I went home, made a shit ton of oatmeal and played Kingdom Hearts 2... then obviously wrote this. But anyways, here was some notable moments that occurred throughout my night:

1)I saw one of my coworker's two children, and their mother. She approached me as I was entering my vehicle holding two full delivery bags, and asked me if he was working. I told her yes, and she called to her kids, "Come on, kids, let's go see Daddy." Awesome.

2)This kid who lives in on those shitty apartments at 710 S. Hardy gave some bullshit address when ordering. I went to this nonexistent address and found nothing. I called him and instantly knew this kid sucked. He mumbled on the phone that he lived a quarter mile south, then proceeded to give me $10 for an $8.33 order. He then looked inside my car and said, "I'll let you keep the rest if I can bum a cig." I looked at him and said, "You have to be fucking kidding me kid. I have no time for this," and sped off. SlaaaAAAAmMm Duncan!

3)I delivered to a strip club. When I walked in, there was a man behind the counter in the little room right outside d@ t1tzZzZ Z0n333!!! This is how the conversation went:

Guy: Are you.. (Pauses, looks at paper)...Brian? (Creepy.)
Me: Yes.
Guy: One of the guys left and doesn't want to pay for his sandwich, I called your boss... (Pauses, looks at paper) ...*Daniel* and he said to talk to... (Pauses, looks at paper)...Brian. He said that $11.12 is the new price.

He then showed me the paper that he kept referencing, and on this 8"x11" sheet, scattered out of course, were the words "Sam," "Brian," and the numbers "11.12."
You cannot make this shit up.

Wednesday, May 13th, 2009

2009-05-13T22:05:00.000-07:00

10 PM - I have one coworker begging me for any type of drug. He has told me he has been awake since Sunday and has neglected to tell me why. He continues to mumble in my direction and get frustrated when I have no fucking clue what he's talking about. Sweet life, bro?

Facebook Rap Battle

2009-05-11T15:37:00.001-07:00

I updated my Facebook with the opening lyrics to Old Dirty Bastard's "Brooklyn Zoo." People then began replying with verses. Here it goes:

Brian Rhoads I'm the one-man army Ason, I've never been tooken out, I keep M.C.'s lookin' out, I drop science like girls be droppin' babies, Enough to make a sucka go cra-a-azy.

Kengo Sun at 6:02pm May 9
I'm the master rapper and I'm here to say
I love Fruity Pebbles in a major way!
The bedrock yellow orange purple lime and red
But to get that fruity taste, I gotta trick Fred!

Brian Rhoads at 6:09pm May 9
Fruity Pebbles be spinnin' up yo dome,
that's why I slang that straight Honeycomb.
Slammin' that cereal, yo I gotta lisp
my mouf is overflowin' wiff Cookie Crisp.

Dustin Rhoads at 6:42pm May 9
Hey can i join in this sounds fun
its all about the frosted mini wheats son
serious on one side, frosted on the other
you get the best of both worlds there brother

Kelly Ng at 7:23pm May 9
Even though y'all be cookin' up rhymes like Bobby flay,
It don't hide the fact that your still gay.
We all know oat-meal, is the real deal,
If you wanna be swoll like me, O-Meal is unreal.

Brian Rhoads at 3:29am May 10
Listen up kids, G-Raff's gotta lesson,
I've got some beef with this breakfast session.
I've gotta lay it down, yo, I gotta boast,
RIDE OR DIE FOR THIS MOTHER FUCKING FRENCH TOAST.
Tops it up with that canned whipped dairy,... Read More
TOPPLE THAT SHIT WITH SOME BOMB ASS STRAWBERRIES!!
I love the French Toast, I must confess,
Never have syrup, that shit is a mess.
BREAK IT DOWN!!!!!
(pelvic thrusts)

SLAM DUNK ON YO FAAAAAAYCE!!!!

Kengo Sun at 7:57am May 10
The problem with french toast is you can't put your dick in it.
I throw a bagels on my shit, and straight spin it.
Breakfast sex, that's where it's at son.
You can keep the margarine, I'll butter my own bun.
Biscuits and gravy on this breakfast jingle... Read More
Fetish time, I just shit on a shingle.

Danny Vega at 8:02am May 10
gotta disagree, cause cereal ain't for me
it's the hot foods that taste most deliciously
i find eggs to be supremely dominant
bacon and links throw em in an omelette
gimme some pancakes butter on top... Read More
start with 3, then add mo, like a poker flop
need some energy need an espresso
like magic i'm up, sip sip and presto
your mom makes it so good bet you're incestual
want some thin cakes now, so gimme some crepes
make bread too so im not all that's baked!

Kelly Ng at 3:58pm May 10
All this jawing is making turning me into Starvin' Marvin'
So if you got a turkey please start carvin'
You ass holes gotta feed this beast,
I'M BOUT TO SLAUGHTER THE FIRST LIVING THING I SEE FOR MY BEAST FEAST!
Now you done it, I'm drinking the blood of a PIGEON,... Read More
I've degraded myself by just a SMIDGEON.
I can see it now, from SARS I'm gonna die,
God, I just wanna crawl in a hole and cry.
you bastards caused this meltdown,
don't make me strip down and give you the run down!
(strips naked, but does not give any form of a run down)
MANIFEST DESTINYYYYYY!!!!!

Wild.

2009-05-06T06:33:00.000-07:00

Fuck.

Easter Beginningzzzz

2009-04-12T08:21:00.000-07:00

The Rendezvous of Miss Penny Sue
by Audrey Farnsworth and Brian Rhoads

In a quiet little dive bar at a half hour ‘til 2,
an appearance was made by inebriated Penny Sue.

People stared as she flew across the bar,
revealing her embarrassing c-section scar.

Her hair sprung with a bounce and flaired with a curl,
“I’ll have two rum and diets,” said the intoxicated girl.

Waiting for her drinks, her shouting grew crude,
“She’s fat, she sucks and I’m sure she’s a dude.”

She scoped the crowd and checked every stool,
until she recognized someone from high school.

The good looking man was equally as wrecked,
“Oh my god, weren’t we in Home Ec?”

Billy? No. Todd? Mark. Ah! James!
This was no time for remembering names.

As she texted vividly waiting for time to pass,
the man had the intention of tapping that ass.

While she frantically pounded her rum and coke,
the high school lab partner rose and spoke.

“A lovely girl like you certainly doesn’t come here,”
“I took a cab from Scottsdale,” and all was made clear.

The bar tender’s voice could be heard by all,
and broke everyone’s hearts as he cried, “Last call.”

Penny Sue balanced herself on the nearest pole,
as she called the bartender a “Giant asshole!”

She took two steps too many and had a stumble,
Causing the audience to murmur and mumble.

Penny Sue cleaned herself off and began to say,
“Fuck all you losers, it’s my birthday!”

In such a frenzy, the man was surely turned off,
when she slammed six shots of Sour Apple Smirnoff.

Penny Sue was having a good time, nothing could spoil it,
that is, unless she didn’t find the nearest toilet.

She ran to the bathroom, hasty and quick,
Said one of his friends, “Dude, she’s gonna be sick!”

The high school friend followed her to the back,
Knowing that this was the moment to attack!!1!

“I’ll handle this, just close out her tab,
Get me some water, and call us a cab.”

With the man’s help, Penny Sue was alive,
They were in that bathroom til about 2:25.

With her last gag, she took off her shoes,
The night was surely over for Miss Penny Sue.

They hopped in the taxi, and laughed such laughter,
Everyone ended their night happily ever after.

The Delivery Driver Chronicles: Part 1

2009-03-19T04:54:00.000-07:00

I am a delivery boy. You are the customer.

This is what is expected of me by my employers:
1) Show up to work on time.
2) Wear a company t-shirt.
3) Answer phones politely and try to up-sell.
4) Do not fight anyone.
5) Make sure you have everything that is on the receipt inside the bag before leaving.
6) Drive to the destination and back in the quickest, and safest route possible,
7) Wash dishes/clean lobby.
8) Do not cuss in front of any customer.

This is difficult for some people to oblige by. I admit the job is easy, but it is also monotonous. The people who follow the rules are the ones who make the most money because they know exactly what they’re doing. You can make some decent money.

This is what is expected of me by you, the customer:
1) Don’t put my dick in your food.
2) Deliver the food as soon as you hang up the phone and dick-free.

I will paint a scenario for you: You are a delivery driver. I call you and make an order. I am infamous for poorly tipping delivery drivers, even if the delivery is delivered within 30 minutes. You can recall delivering to me 3 times in the past two weeks where I have tipped you close to nothing. Try and not put your dick in my sandwich. I dare you.

This is what I expect from my employers:
1) Provide all of the products necessary to do my job.
2) Have the full amount of paycheck ready for me every other Friday.

Pretty clear cut.

This is what I expect of customers:
1) Be polite.
2) A reasonable tip.

You should always tip your driver at least a gallon of gas. Unleaded is a safe bet. Also, when I am asking you to repeat something, it is because I am making sure that your fat, unappreciative ass will get what it desires. Please do not speak to me as if I were retarded.

Cash rules everything around me, cream.

2009-03-09T18:39:00.000-07:00

Today at work, a group of four girls came into the store. They were loud and obnoxious, which easily gave away the fact that they are, in fact, in high school. They used our bathrooms and continued to talk to my coworkers and boss. Finally, my buddy Kevin asked them how old they were. They hesitated at first, but then told us they were 21. I instantly shut down this bullshit. They acted offended, but then they admitted they were 17. As they were leaving, I reminded them to "enjoy high school, because it is a long, slow, and painful decline from there."

My coworkers said they would still sleep with them.

What I do at 6am for 300, please.

2009-03-02T04:51:00.000-08:00

I've coined a new term: "Wise Man." Definition: While at your computer desk watching porn, you sit on the floor because your headphones are too short. You can sit Indian style or do what I do and crouch down like a catcher. When you are done punishing yourself, your attempt to stand up and walk will make you look like a wise man.

2009-02-11T22:10:00.000-08:00

Just the other night, while delivering, I came to a kid's apartment and when I knocked on the door, a sudden clatter came amongst the room. All I could hear was the cheers of a small group of people. As the door burst open, their eyes lit up and their teeth came out from hiding. I was like mother fucking Santa Claus to these drunken buffoons.
I looked at one of the people occupying the apartment and as we made eye contact, he screamed, "The sandwich guy is here!" with such an uplifting tone. They tipped for shit, but I wish everyone was that excited to see me.

$uP3rb0wL

2009-02-02T20:30:00.000-08:00

Thanks to everyone who came to our superbowl party. Good times were had by all. It sucks that the Cardinals lost, but it was still a good game. I was returning the keg tap to the store we rented it from and one of the employees that works there was talking to his coworker about "a new ground angle that shows that Holmes never touched the ground with one of his feet." I told him, "Don't be that fan, dude. It was a good game and they're not going to do anything to change the outcome now." He then returned to the back because I'm sure he was about to say things that could have gotten him fired.

Fuck the Steelers.

Holy Shit.

2009-01-23T04:11:00.000-08:00

At around 11:00am, I was driving around Tempe with my topper from work still on the roof of my car. Every once in a while, some random person walking will see me drive by and wave, point, or give me a little head nod. It's nice. I had noticed that on my way to work, two separate people waved to me and I was feeling like today wasn't going to completely suck. Well, I was behind a bus while it was unloading, and this black lady began laughing hysterically at me. At first I thought she could just have been told something extremely funny, but she began pointing. I just sat there and took it. It was all I could do.

The first part of my thirteen hour workday was a delivering shift at my store. Everything was pretty normal until this guy threw up all over the bathroom floor. It is shitty enough that I had to hear him throwing up, but knowing that I was going to be the one to clean it up stung worse. When he came out, he fessed up to what he did and offered $20 to whoever was going to clean it up. Fuck yes, dude. Yes, it is cleaning up vomit, but it's sure as hell better than cleaning up vomit for minimum wage.

The second part of my work day was working inshop at a slower store by myself. The manager of this store told me I really didn't have to do any paperwork or deal with any money, but to basically clean and lock up the place. I was accompanied by one of their drivers, who would spend most of his time outside the store, leaving me completely alone at times. Here is a list of things I considered doing during my shift:

1) Doing more work that was expected of me. Reason I did not do it: Their shit/ way of doing shit is way different from how we do it at my store.
2) Go on the computer and play Kitten Cannon. Reason I did not do it: Their internet was shitty.
3) Masturbate in the bathroom. Reason I did not do it: No motivation.
4) Masturbate anywhere in the store. Reason I reconsidered: No cameras, no customers, no problem.

Now this is a list of things I actually did:

1) Hang out for lengthy periods of time.
2) Punch frozen bacon.
3) Danced. I just found out about the band Justice.
4) Quickly befriend any customers.
5) Would yell profanities out loud, because I could.
6) Wash my hands every time after I went to the bathroom.
7) Call friends.
8) Cleaned.
9) Not masturbate.

I am staying up only so that I can go in at 8:00am when the managers are supposed to arrive and explain everything that I did because I am pretty sure I fucked it up royally. I guess I could hide behind the excuse, "No one ever trained me."

Pictures from the State Fair.

2009-01-22T13:32:00.000-08:00

I just recently found where I had saved all the pictures I took when my roommates and I went to the State Fair to see Coolio, Young MC, and Naughty by Nature live. These pictures are too real. Let's see the highlights of the trip!

This is what we saw right as we entered the Fair. I never said it was pretty, but indulge in the white trash!

This guy was my favorite. This cold blooded heart throb has got a message, and that message is: "I know how to party."

Alecia and I had to team up for this one. Notice the guy on his blue tooth as well as the lady's third chin.

This is Tim blending in with some random kids. The only problem I have with this picture is why would anyone want to get their shoes shined at the state fair?

We continues walking and found a bag of trash out in the open. Trevor is not surprised. Also note the lady with the sweatshirt wrapped around her waist. Wow.

The trick to popping those balloons is getting around the lady.

This lady looks like a broke-ass Stephen King. Fucking creep.

Courtesy of Trevor Thon. This guy is begging for it.

After this point we headed to the concert. Young MC was first to perform and opened up with a new song of his called "That ain't the picture on yo myspace page." He's going places.

fuck fuck fuck

2009-01-22T01:12:00.001-08:00

During these hard economic times, my parents offered to help me out by covering my car insurance until I graduate college. The joke is on them because I never plan on graduating. I should feel bad, but they left a loophole and they should be proud of me for outsmarting them. This is the first semester I cannot afford, so I will be working my ass off at work hoping it will numb the depressing feeling of being a full-time delivery driver. Not going to school will feel a little weird, but its not like I went to class when I could afford it.

It is 2:15AM and I am at work. It is absolutely fucking dead, hence why I am on the computer.

Last night was Tim's birthday and we bro'd out pretty hard. It's always sad knowingly being the drunkest one at a party. I'm just #@rDc0r3.

I'll write something funny soon, I swear.

Super Awesome.

2009-01-21T13:05:00.000-08:00

So as most people know, I am a delivery driver for a company that shall remain unnamed. While on a run today, I delivered to a mentally challenged gentleman, but this information was withheld from me and was instantly discover upon arrival. Now, I call a lot of people “retarded,” but it was obvious to me that this man had a problem. His total was $21.58 and he handed me $40. I asked him a question I ask everyone in this situation: “How much would you like back?” This caught the man off guard and he became instantly bewildered and began shouting at me. Let me try to recreate the scenario.

Me: How much would you like back?
Guy: I ALREADY TOLD YOU! (He was, in fact, shouting.)
Me: Sir, I did not take your call. I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Guy: I told you that I wanted a 10 and a 5 back over the phone!
Me: (Pause) Alright.

I then proceeded to pull out $15 (two 5’s and five 1’s)

Guy: This isn’t what I wanted!
Me: It is the same amount that you had asked for.

He continued to yell at me for another 2 ½ minutes, reminding me that he strictly told the person on the phone that he demanded a 10 and a 5. Finally, he ran inside to talk to what I assumed was his wife. He then returned outside and said. “She said its ok. You can leave now.” What the fuck.

Monday, January 19th, 2009.

2009-01-19T18:16:00.000-08:00

This is a true story:

The city of Tempe sent a letter to my roommates and me telling us that we had to cut the grass in our front yard. We had neglected to cut our lawn for about four months prior to this, and whenever I would walk to my car, I would always fear a small animal, a snake, or even Orange Cat to jump out of the tall grass and fucking destroy me.
Anyways, we paid two guys to take care of the yard for $40 total. I wasn't home when they attended our yard, but when I came home, Trevor had told me that they had found human shit in our yard. At first, Trevor assumed it was just a large dog's doings, but the strapping young lads insisted that it was human shit. Trevor paid them an extra $20 for cleaning it up.
Now I do not know what was more depressing: accepting the fact that someone took a shit in our yard in such a hate-filled manner, or the few seconds it took me to wonder whether or not it was me.

march 17, 2008

2008-03-18T18:29:00.000-07:00

march 17th, 2008

now im pretty sure Kazuo Matsui, a major league baseball player, was caught in some homosexual pornography in his early career. he later explained that he needed the money at a very young age.

this is word for word of what i found on yahoosports:

Mar 17 Brian McTaggert, of the Houston Chronicle, reports Houston Astros 2B Kazuo Matsui (anus) is likely to begin the season on the disabled list. Matsui will undergo surgery to repair an anal fissure. He will miss at least 2 weeks and will miss Opening Day.

woah.