Wanna Bet?

CAUTION: this post may contain references to female bodily processes that may be disturbing to some readers, but if it makes you feel any better, I'm just as sicked out typing it.

As you who have been tuned in here all week know, Wednesday during "Formsprung" I was asked "If a girl asked you to give her some business in her area during her time of the month?" I met that completely inappropriate (but still welcomed) question with disgust and indignance, but there is actually a backstory here. You see, just the day before that question popped up in my inbox, a Facebook status asking the same question (much more graphically...the word "flow" was used) was posted by a coworker "named" Shenicole. I and a few others completely status quashed her, leaving comments in all different flavors of "hellfuckingno", but she defended her question to the death. (Was she also the one who posted it here? No way to tell...serious coincidence though...if you're out there, hi Shenicole!)

The conversation lasted 67 comments, but it didn't stop there. Apparently Shenicole was so surprised by the fact that there are so few hemo-sexuals out there, it became one of the rare Facebook convos that extend into real life. The next day, she came in telling me and others that "we need to man up" and "the way we see things will change when we have a woman we love" and other shit girls say when they let a story slip about how they bra-beat some poor whipped sap into doing something horrid through the power of their femininity and every guy who hears it goes "damn...couldn't have been me..."

We went back and forth for a good 15 minutes, and then she said something that caused this post: "I bet you'll do it to your wife..." I told her it was a sucker bet (maybe not the best choice of words given the circumstances) and wagered my next 5 paychecks on the matter. She said she wanted it in writing...well, here ya go!

I, AJ, do solemnly swear on a stack of assorted religious books, my future children's lives, and Cowboys' QB Tony Romo's right arm that I will not purposefully or willfully place my mouth anywhere near a bleeding or spotting orifice for the sexual pleasure of any party involved for the next 20 years (that really translates to "ever in my fucking life" but there has to be a time limit here fot the purposes of the bet) be it on a wife, girlfriend, fuck buddy, bussit baby, or a total stranger, barring my death before such time, in which event this bet will be dissolved. Complete and total batshit insanity will also result in the dissolution of the bet, but must be proven by institutional commitment papers brought forth less than 6 months from the day of violation or be treated as a loss of the bet.

I understand that violation of this statement will result in the forfeiture of my next 5 paychecks, or an equivalent amount (about $4,000) should the violation occur after I don't work here anymore. I understand that alcoholic intoxication or the influence of any substance, controlled or uncontrolled, is not a valid excuse for violation and accept that any actions that may be construed as a violation will result in the loss of the bet. (Tripping and falling is also an invalid excuse.) After the date of July 26, twentythirty, if no violations have occured, the same amount shall be rendered unto me in cash within a year, and at that time I reserve the right to dance happily around you and shout "Told ya so!" while freely showering myself with your money, which you or no representative of yours must attempt to reclaim at any time. This is a legally binding document witnessed by Facebook and all readers of umf, and these terms and conditions are in effect retroactive to July 26, twentyten.

____________________ (signature, date)

There...that serves as both a permanent answer to that particular question and an actual contract, should she "man up" and sign it. Well, what's it gonna be, Shenicole? I can print this out if you want. Hey, you could win 4 grand...but honestly, it's not bloody likely...


The Other Other Guys

*fittedwearer's note: lol

Sometimes, you don't have to say "fuck the police"...at times, they do a good enough job of fucking themselves. Case in point, 2 unnamed Philadelphia Police officers are on desk duty (that's cop talk for "receptionist with a badge") after being implicated in one of the dumbest robbery attempts I've ever heard of. You thought those Drexel assholes from earlier this week were bad? They look like valedictorians compared to these two. In fact, I dare say that these are two of the least intelligent law enforcement officials in Philly, and that's really saying something.

Late Tuesday night, 2 cops responded to a tripped burgular alarm at a Northeast Philly bar called Pat's Cafe. (Philadelphians, if you've heard that name before on the news, it's because some other officer was shot and killed on duty there in 2006...there's a plaque there and everything...way to pay tribute, guys!) It turned out to be a false alarm...probably just an alley cat or an Eagles fan enjoying a late dinner from a dumpster behind the restaurant...but these 2 members of Philly's Finest decided that their duty did not end here.

After breaking into the restaurant, (I'm sure it was just to see if the alarm was really working or not) they sat down, flipped on the tube, and got a few drinks on the house. Now normally that's a relaxing evening, but the rules change slightly when you're a police officer on active duty in full uniform. Instead of protecting and serving the Philadelphians they had sworn to, they were just serving themselves...over and over. After a while on bar duty, one of the bacon boys hatched a genius scheme: since we're breaking about 17 laws already, why not walk into the basement and lighten the safe a little? (You get the feeling that these 2 went to the Alonzo Harris school of cop work: "We the police, we can do whatever the fuck we want...")

At that point, I guess they decided that they had a good enough story to tell back at the precinct and took their leave and a total of about $1100...with one small problem: the dozen or so cameras trained on the outside of the building and all up and down the street. (See, not so nice when it works against y'all, is it?!) In the morning, the employees walked in and saw that the place had clearly been robbed and called the police like they tell us to do. How could they have known that the cops they were calling had just switched shifts with the ham hocks responsible? (It reminds me of an old cop joke: how do you reach a crooked cop? Dial 911...doesn't really matter who picks up...)

Of course, once the footage was reviewed and the truth of the matter came out, the officers were arrested and sent to prison like any other citizen who had broken the law in an extremely retarded manner. Oh wait, didn't I say before they were just removed from active duty and given a job at (or as) a desk? Yeah, that's what I meant...I was just fuckin with you. Amazingly, they are still collecting paychecks from the city despite robbing it of time, security, and actual money, but its only a matter of time until they end up behind bars instead of in one. (Hey...at least they got caught before they could make up "unidentified black suspects" like my other cop homie Robert Ralston.) Crooked cops are nothing new in this city...it just warms my heart when some dirty little piggies are sent crying "wee, wee, wee" all the way to jail...so yeah, once again...lol...



Well, for the new folk and...uh...guests..."Formsprung" is the weekly reader hot seat where the folk who read this ask me anything that crosses their mind and I answer honestly...it's actually more fun than it sounds like...to wit:

Give us an update on your comedy Tour de Philadelphia
lol I didn't forget or bitch up...I just called the place the other day and found out they're not doing the open mic thing again until mid-August...I was actually disappointed, I had a whole routine ready to go...it's definitely still a go though :)

so if a chick let you hit it the 1st night she's automatically out of the wifey pool?
Not out of the pool, but definitely at the shallow end. (I like that, works on a few levels lol)

Are you at all into fighting? Like boxing, mma, martial arts, anything like that?
Who doesn't like to see a mafucka get his ass beat? I love a fight...boxing has fallen off hard, there's only maybe 3 fights a year worth watching, but I'm into UFC and actually have some training in Tang Soo Do (Korean karate) so you definitely could say I am...I also enjoy streetfights, which is where that whole "Special Moves" section comes from...

What is your favorite way to get around? Do you drive?
Anybody who works in this city knows that driving down here is somewhere between counterproductive and suicidal, what with the random one-way streets, exorbitant parking costs (really, a dollar per 20min?), kamikaze meter nazis ('Parking Wars', anyone?), crazy delivery cyclists and cabs drivers with no regard for non fare-paying human life. I like taking the train...I actually get most places faster and I get a fuckload of umf material...and some Greenpeace guy told me it was good for the environment or something, so...yeah, sure, that works too.

Is crappy weed a problem for you, or do you always get really good stuff? What do you consider adequate?
Nope, actually...I assume you're talking about regs, because if you get crappy exotic, you need to find the shyster who peddled it to you and make him suffer...but no, its not really a problem, since I mostly get it in semi-bulk...the weed around here tends to be pretty good on average, but you will catch the odd bad batch every once in a while....I assume that's everywhere though. Oh, I consider adequate good enough to make me come up with something to post here :)

7 best things that have happened to you?
hmm...off the top of my head, in no particular order...

1) the day I discovered you could put real meat in roman noodles...

2) the Treehouse

3) Christmas 1996 when I got a Nintendo 64 (that I still own to this day!)

4) The day I graduated high school (the last day I was ever required by law to attend anything)

5) umf

6) the realization that being funny could attract females

7) Marijuana/Alcohol

As you can see, I'm easily pleased...lol...

why cant u do a review of plastic bottle vodka? wtf is wrong with it lol
hahahah my fault I just thought my readers had a little more class...I should have known better, since they read the things I write for fun...aight, you know what, I got you...stay tuned.

what do you sleep in?
A random (usually blue) t-shirt, basketball shorts and my fitted if I pass out with it on (often)...pretty standard male sleepsuit...

What is the worse thing a woman asked you to do for her?
there's 3 answers for this one:

the quip- "Listen to her talk..."

the he-man answer- "Anything besides lift wings and swill beer while the Cowboys are on..."

and the sexual one- "Lick all up on her chocolate starfish..."

All are true....pick out the one that works for you...

do you like kids?
Love 'em...(and they love me back for some reason) long as I can return them to their parents when they're done being cute...

If a girl asked you to give her some business in her area during her time of the month?
Give her business? Yeah, I'm fine with walking over to a girl's house to buy some weed from her...why would it matter if she was on her--ohgod! You're talking about...ewww! You mean stick my tongue in...while she's...ohgod...

Put it this way, I want to slap the hellfire out of you for asking me about asking me, how do you think I would respond to actually asking me lol...

What's stopping the Cowboys from going to the Superbowl this year?
Why did you do this to me lol...you KNOW football season isn't for another month and a half, why would you tantalize me?!

To answer the question, the only thing stopping it is the fact that it's not February yet...top to bottom the 'Boys have have one of the more talented teams in the NFC, and barring some unforseen developments (*knock knock*), I fully expect to see a deep playoff run and a possible Super Bowl home game down in the Death Star...we'll see...

(You know what, thanks for that...I haven't talked football in a long time...)

Where is a decent place to take a pretty lady friend?
A pretty one? A nice bar or an observation walk in one of the safezones of Philly...maybe a restaurant without a dollar menu...places where people can see us...it makes me pretty by association lol...

Females who suck dick don't deserve respect...he means all...even those in relationships...how you feel about that? homie on twitter said he doesn't want it at all...
I feel like that is a fallacious fellatious statement and your homie should tweet the fuck up. Who says some stupid shit like that?! The hell is your problem, you tryna fuck it up for all of us? You sure he's straight? He could be implying that males who do it are more worthy of kudos...might wanna peep that angle. *DMX* that's ya mans...that's YOUR mans..." */DMX*

Yeah, that's about how it goes every week...a little football, a little sex, a little weed talk, a lot of random...I love Wednesdays...that about wraps it for this week, but if you have a question about umf, a random query, or just a burning desire to make me really uncomfortable anonymously, check out that little blue box >over there> to get answered next week, of if you just loooove clicking on links:



I don't know about you, but I like imagining...it's fun for me. Since you're here, you might as well play too...indulge me for a few minutes. Imagine that you are a starter for a Division 1 college basketball team. You're on a full scholarship, your meals, books, room and board cost a combined 0 dollars a year, you get all the other perks associated with being a student-athlete at pretty much any level (read: bitches), and you may well be on the road to an NBA career making millions of dollars to do what you've been doing for fun since you could hold a ball and walk at the same time. Your life is pretty good, right?

Well, it's apparently not all it's talked up to be...you see, here in Philly at our own Drexel University, two real-life people lived that exact scenario and decided it wasn't good enough. Jamie Harris and Kevin Phillip, juniors at the school, were arrested after turning themselves in on armed robbery charges. They and an accomplice (a friend of the victim) ran a triangle offense inside the apartment of a fellow student, breaking in, brandishing guns and getting away with...drumroll, please...an iPhone! Awesome job, you criminal masterminds, you...now instead of careers in pro basketball, you get to be first pick in the prison basketball game every time...what an honor!

It was said by the late philosopher Christopher Wallace that the 2 ways to make it were to "slang crack rock or have a wicked jump shot"...it seems these guys wanted the worst of both worlds. I mean, let's be serious, all jokes aside...what the fuck!? Just when I thought I had seen the summit of human stupidity, something like this comes along. (It's almost like the sons of active NFL coach getting arrested on drug distribution charges or something...oh wait...shoutout to the Reid family!) Why in the world would somebody with so much to lose risk everything for a phone that doesn't even have Flash? There are people who would risk going to jail to GET a scholarship to a major university...these hoop geniuses are not only forfeiting them, but going to jail anyway. I don't care how you score that one, that's a loss.

They caught all of them on tape entering and exiting the building in the process of their flagrant foul, so they were shit out of luck anyway, but it didn't even have to get that far. I know if I had been in their Nikes, the only shots I would have been taking would have been at practice and parties...not in the streets trying to play gangster with some dickhead who was gonna get us all caught anyway. Oh, I didn't mention that part? Yeah, the accomplice, who orchestrated the robbery, gave police a key piece of evidence when he stopped for a slice of pizza at the shop next door immediately afterwards and paid with his FUCKING DEBIT CARD! (No, they can't track that at all...not with your account number and address and shit...no way. I thought these people were in college...that's a Drexel education hard at work...) Of course, he snitched before they could even get the cuffs on him.

You know what...fuck the "why"...I don't think we'll ever know that one. My new question is "who?" Who did this benefit? The players? *pssh*...it's pretty clear that their lives failed like their team in last year's Tournament (Hey, Ci!) and they'll be taking a 5-10 year timeout. The student who engineered this epic failure? Well, he did get a slice of pizza and an iPhone out of the deal, but he's gonna pay for it with years of fruit cups and monitored phone calls. Drexel? Nope...this kind of thing is like an anti-commercial for the place...3 years of their schooling bounced off these assholes like a ball off hardwood. Nope, looks like the only person who reaped any kind of benefit is the folk like me who get to point and laugh at them...which, honestly, is a slam dunk for me. (lol sorry...)


Swilla #10- Three Olives Rangtang

*fittedwearer's note: It's been a long time since I did one of these, but trust me, I've been drinking plenty...the bottle budget is just kinda low right now and I just don't think anybody is dying for a review of plastic bottle vodka or Colt 45...lol...anyway, here we go...

I had just gotten off and was going to the liquor store under the guise of walking my lovely coworker Shenicole (that's not her real name, don't worry...I hope nobody I know's parents did anything like that to them...it's just a mashed up nickname) to the train station. I had picked up the Nikolai and boxed wine (toldya) I had come for, but had a few extra dollars to spend in there. I stood with one foot planted on a case of Captain Morgan that was on the floor and considered buying another bottle. Shenicole told me I had enough liquor in my hands already, and that sealed it...my defiant nature and desire to get smacked enough to drunktext her later both dictated that I needed more.

I wandered around the store considering the options...that's when a big, colorful display of Three Olives vodka seemingly rose out of the floor. If you're not familiar with Three Olives, it comes in more flavors than Baskin-Robbins (vodka flavored, cherry, pomegranate, chocolate, bubblegum and root beer, to name a few) but the one that hadn't visited any of my shot glasses so far was called Rangtang. It's not monkey booze like it sounds like, which would have been cool, but it is bright ass orange (it's a color in the 128 pack of Crayolas, trust me) and that made it stand out...so I picked it up. What can I say, I'm a sucker for visual appeal...

After getting the bottle home and managing not to take any curious sips on the way, I took it from the bag and inspected it...to my knowledge, it's the 1st orange beverage for young adults (Metamucil doesn't count) ever produced, and predictably, it was orange flavored. (Even though I've always wanted to fuck with people's heads by making like, a bright green drink that tastes like cherries or a blue one that tastes just like apple...some drunken Willy Wonka shit...what color would snozzberry vodka be? Ah, screw it...let's continue) I poured a shotful and tossed it back...it's not bad, it tastes like the oranges in the bottom of a batch of college party punch, and that's a compliment.

It's pretty okay solo, but I can't really see drinking it on the rocks or something...clearly, it's intended as a mixer. The problem came in when I saw that I hadn't been shopping yet (ah, the priorities of a bachelor...) and the only nonalcoholic liquids in the fridge were half a carton of orange juice and like 2 shots of leftover sour mix. After some deliberation, I said "fuck it, that'll work" and came up with the Orange Crush Screwdriver:

3 ounces Three Olives Rangtang
5 ounces orange juice
Like 2 shots of leftover sour mix

Pour into a shaker, shake, serve...or just drink it out of the shaker if you don't feel like doing dishes. Serves 2, or more likely, you twice.

Overall, I'm satisfied with it. It's strong enough, tasty, and bitches will drink it. At $16, it's not that expensive and can make an interesting changeup from Cisco or MD 20/20 just in case you want people to think you're classy or something. (The bottle is pretty too, just not quite as attractive as when full...still made a nice addition to my alcohol bottle memorial wall, the Graveyard at Barlington...) It even got me to drunktext Shenicole, which was the point of the exercise. It's good shit...pick up a bottle...today, dammit...it's Friday, why aren't you drinking yet!?


Lies They Tell the Chirrens: The Stork

One of the most peculiar lies they insist on telling the chirrens involves the stork. Kids are curious little bastards (not knocking it, I was a curious little bastard and still am, just much taller and with a beard), and inevitably amid the thousands of questions they plague their parents with the big one pops up: "where do babies come from?" Some parents, rather than tell their kids the truth (like on Daddy's birthday a few years ago, Mommy didn't make Daddy wear a love raincoat and Daddy wasn't quick enough on the draw and let his sailors out to sea by accident") simply tell them they came from the stork.

There are 3 traditional stories surrounding this famous delivery bird...one is that he owns a cabbage patch in China behind a sweatshop that is ironically run by more babies. The stork walks up and down the infant fields with a Hustler magazine manually spreading his seed, and after a while a fresh crop of babies grows and is distributed to expectant families (and Maury guests). The second is that the stork goes around in drugstores with a needle poking holes in boxes of condoms. The third goes that the fertile stork simply grabs a bottle of Cuervo and a R.Kelly CD, goes over future Mommy's house, and simply makes the baby from scratch.

All of these, are of course, implausible to anybody over the age of 5...everybody knows where babies actually do come from...they come from open bars, open legs, and closed doors. However, we can't just go around telling kids that they were concieved in the neighbor's yard, on the subway home that one night, or by 3 different men at the same time...but these kinds of things do happen, and so the stork lives on. It's kind of a necessary evil, but it's still just a lie they tell the chirrens. (Unless there's cable or a computer in the house, of course...then the kids know anyway...)



lol nothing like a good week of "Formsprung to remind me why I love my readers...

do you like cheese ?
Lots and lots of cheese...lol..

so ur skipping fridays now?
lol no...I've been taking off of work some Fridays recently and I get kinda busy doing nothing so it slips my mind sometimes...I got you this Friday though...

do you sell weed?
Not over the internet lol

why captain aj lol
In tribute to all the great captains that came before me...Captain Morgan, Captain America, Captain Planet, Captain Jack Sparrow, Captain Falcon...all great men lol

is smoking weed all u do?!
No, I also drink, play with Facebook, watch tv, work, send text messages, try to have sex every so often, write and smoke weed...wait, scratch the last one, you said that...but I have a very fulfilling life, thxmuch...

Are you homophobic?
No, I'm heterophilic, look it up, there's a difference...

What do you feel is a good age to have children?
I wish I woulda had some at 15...might have gotten a TV show out of it...seriously, around 27 is a good age to start, I feel like I should be close enough to being stable (and maybe even maturish...*pssh* imagine that...) to actually support another human being....right now I'm still busy spending money and time on my damn self....that's the joy of not having kids :)

lololol wtf is a weedsman?!
hahah...yay I get to say this again: look it up!

What if your mother saw umf?
lol omg...she would find out a looooot about me I guess hahaha...my mommy still thinks I'm her special little innocent angel, and I would like to keep it that way...I do think she would like the poem I wrote her for mother's day that she never saw, but I still might get sent to my room for...everything else... (which is fine since it's not in her house lol)

Can I touch ur beard?
If you don't have man hands, I guess you can tousle it real quick... (If you're really cute maybe you can touch it with your thighs...yeah I can make sex jokes on Wednesdays too...)

Exactly how high is Willy Wonka's blood sugar? ?
The dude owns a chocolate factory and seems pretty hopped up in general, so pretty high, I'd say...almost as high as me after lunch... (how's that for circular logic?)

If you were freezing to death and your straight male friend wanted to cuddle for warmth, what would you do?
Tell that man to take a drink...that'll warm you up...I will be no man's snuggle bunny...

Have you ever taken anyone's virginity?
Nope...there's a lot of things that go along with that, and I just can't knowingly put myself in that positon...besides, what are the chances I'll meet one of the 3 virgins over 18 in Philly? (And if I do, there's probably a very good reason why she is one, like nobody being able to look at her face and maintain an erection at the same time...)

say there's a girl, you meet her, really like her, she's everything you want, but you find out she went through a smut phase...could you still fuck with her? It's all in the past, right?
uh, na? You don't go through 'smut phases', you go through clean phases in the process of being a lifelong smut...matter fact, I went over this in my "perfect girl" description somebody asked for before...I'll repost it now just for fun...

From a past episode of "Formsprung":
What is your 'perfect' girl like?
Well besides the pretty and all the obvious humps and bumps us men tend to prize (goes without saying, right?) I'm don't think I'm asking for a lot...a reasonably intelligent female (who was born a female) that can hold a convo, feed me, and do things with her tongue that prolly would have gotten her burned at the stake for witchcraft a few centuries ago.

I would like to be able to show her off to my mommy, and for her to not be an ex-dickholster. She should like football (or at least not draw on my life when the game's on) and ideally, be a Cowboys fan. I realize that this girl, if she ever existed, prolly died a long time ago so I'm willing to go without one or 2 of those in exchange for the rest (except the 'either watch the game with me or leave me alone' part...that's non-negotiable, u could get beat with a bag of grapefruits behind that...)

I think that covers that...

What is the best movie you've seen so far this year?
Kick-Ass! Loved it...and it was actually the last movie I paid to see... (yes, I also have it on bootleg lol)

Why don't you do movie reviews?
Have you seen movie prices lately? I don't be having 17 dollars for a ticket (63 if you're bringing a date) all the time...I buy bootlegs, all my DVDs are plain white discs, fuck that I got weed to buy lol

Who is the finest bitch you work with?
Rachel K from the 4th floor...she's...well...she just got a...damn, damn, damn...I'll put it this way: if I ever end up locked in a room with her and nothing but Snickers bars, Red Bulls, and a 2 pound family size box of condoms, umf wouldn't get updated for weeks...so yeah, her...

Who's the most annoying person you work with?
Oh, "Reddock", no doubt...from his annoying voice to his whole low-budget 'Jack Nicholson-in-the-Departed' looks to his fake ass "how's it going, my man/brother" bullshit...dude boils my blood...it takes everything in my not to muay thai kick that dude in the top lip...there was even a post dedicated to him...I have some USDA choice words for him when I'm finished working here...

does anybody at your job read the things you write?
Yeah I do actually have a couple on the job readers...big shoutout to Wayne and Soash (even he doesn't work here anymore) who continue to be loyal umf'ers literally since day one since they stood around and watched me set the site up at my desk...I also think I have a couple closet readers here, I get umf references here sometimes that I know I didn't put on Facebook or anything...so shoutout to all of y'all too! (Be nice if you could make yallselves known tho...oh, and Rachel, if you read this, I meant it...)

Who's ur squad in basket ball?
The Heat! I've been a Heat fan for years and years just like all the other new Heat fans lol

Seriously, I'm really not much of a basketball fan...I have players I like to watch, keep track of the season, and watch the playoffs like any responible male but it's too finesse for me...give me a sport where someone can get their helmet knocked off...my heart beats for football... (go Cowboys!)

Looks like that's it for this week...another round next Wednesday...come on, ask a question...you know you wanna...find the >box> or...you could click the funny colored letters under this...


Inventions Nobody Fuckin Asked For- Huggies Jean Diapers

So I was watching TV one day last week just thinking about how I hadn't seen anything really, really stupid being sold over the airwaves in a while (I did see Montel from "Montel" selling some kind of health blender on a talk show/infomercial-type format, but that's more funny than stupid...I can just see Maury brand at-home paternity tests or a Wendy Williams home makeover kit next...it makes way too much sense...) when the commercial for these Huggies denim diapers came on. 

My first impression, of course, was What. The. Fuck.

The commercial featured some suave ass infant baby man walking down the street in his j'diaper to the shock and awe of passerby. The baby's dung-arees apparently gave him tremendous swagger as he strolled down the street like he owned the place while grown women gawked at him like...whatever celebrity chicks think is sexy right now, I don't get into all that. (A little creepy if you ask me...let it have been a baby girl walking around in a jean diaper with grown men wolf whistling at her from a construction site or something instead and see how many ad execs would have ended up in jail.) 

The commercial finished by saying that wearing their product would be "the coolest you would ever look pooping your pants"...maybe they should make them for incontinent adults too, I mean if you're gonna shit your pants, you might as well look cool doing it...

Seriously, who came up with this and thought it was a good idea? First of all, they're not even pants...clearly they have no legs, so they can't be jeans at all...they're disposable Daisy Dukes. It looks like something you would see worn at a no-girls-allowed bar. Do you want your child to look like a gay construction worker? Number 2, it's designed to contain...well...number 2...do you have any idea what shitty denim smells like? (I don't, but I can't imagine it's good.) 

Really, other than making a baby Village People outfit, what possible purpose would there be for denim booty shorts for kids? What's next, training high heels? Diapers with fishnet stockings attached to the leg? Children's lingerie? If there is any sense left to be made in new kids' products, shit like this has to stop....this is definitely an invention nobody fuckin asked for.


Delayed Flight

Its kind of funny how this smoker thing works sometimes. Although most of the time rollable relief is never more than a phone call and a few blocks away, (that's for us regulars...the occasional smoker takes a little longer, but even they usually have that one pothead friend who knows every street vendor in the city...it's never more than 3 degrees of separation...) every once in a while for 2 or 3 days the existence of marijuana is just an urban legend. This weekend was those 2 or 3 days.

You see, a couple times a year, all the weedsmen in a given city take a vacation. They never tell anybody when they're doing it...it's a closely guarded weedsman's union secret...but apparently they all just rent a bus together and go to Atlantic City or something. Now I think everybody deserves a day off...but that leaves their clientele, like me, in a delicate and vexing predicament. (Seriously, do you know what happens when you leave people like me unmedicated? How the hell am I supposed to deal with some of the assholes that populate this planet dead sober? I might have knocked somebody into death with my bare hands.)

It's way more frustrating than not having any weed money...I had money, there was just nobody to give it to...I couldn't help but remember all the times I was broke and people were chasing me down in the streets, popping out of alleys and rappelling down buildings to offer to sell me ganja...it's like that episode of "The Twilight Zone" where that book-loving but half-blind guy gets all the books in the world and all of time to read them in, but breaks his reading glasses...having weed money and no weed is what I imagine purgatory is like.

All weekend I inquired to no avail. I called all the usual people...checked all the usual spots like chinese stores and delis, (those places are undercover weed marketplaces, people are always prescribing away in there...many is the time I've strolled in for a cheesesteak on the late night and left with not only that, but motivation to eat it...not like I need any...) even conducted a few on-street interrogations:

*curtain goes up*
AJ: *sees person smoking on porch* Ay man, where can I get some of that?
Smoker: Oh, I know a guy...
AJ: Don't play coy with me...where the weed at?
S: "Play coy"? The hell that mean? You a cop?
AJ: *grabs by collar, slams against wall* DO I LOOK LIKE A COP!?
S: N-n-...no...hey, man...lemme go, you're blowing my high...
AJ: WHERE IS IT!? *punches wall near smoker's head*
S: You're crazy, man! Crazy! He's not even around right now! I couldn't call him if I wanted, this is my last blunt!
S: Yeah, but...but they're all with him! Look, he sent me a postcard! *pulls out postcard from Virginia Beach featuring every dealer in Philly happily laying on the sand captioned "Gankster's Paradise: Dealer Retreat 2010"*
AJ: Grr... *releases Smoker* I'm sorry, man...I haven't smoked in 3 days...
S: Yeah, been there...it's cool, my dude...wanna finish this?
AJ: You know it...
*end scene*

Convinced I would never smoke again, I woke up this morning, gathered the (surprisingly potent) THC powder from my grinder into my bowl as a resort after last technique, and sparked the very last of my supply. I wandered into work this morning wondering how the hell my lunch routine would work without a key component...then it started raining. (You can't make that up...) I sat at my desk in the pits of despair, dreading yet another smokeless and grounded day...that's when a bright angel appeared to light up my life. (Okay, it was one of my coworkers, but that's what it seemed like to me.)

They explained that they had been stuck with a considerable amount of the good stuff when one of their friends asked them to obtain it and then changed their mind after the money had already been put up. (Who does that?! There's no layaway on weed, what the fuck is going on with people?) Well, to be more accurate, they explained uninterrupted until the words "stuck with", at which point they were cut off by a powerhug. The laws of supply and demand took their course, they got reimbursed, I got my prescription refilled, and everybody was happy. It even stopped raining... (and of course, 10 minutes later I got a text from a friend: "Got that good green..." *sigh*)


CaptN's Log: Lunchin'

Somebody was nice enough (or bored, either one works for me, ask away) enough to ask me what I had for lunch yesterday, so as I often do, I'm gonna take that shit and run with it. I actually have a lunch routine now. Each day I maximize the benefit of the hour lunch break I get...it's like the halftime show to the game that is my everyday life. I'm actually kinda proud of it...took me about 2 weeks to get it right, but I can now do the whole damn thing in an hour(ish) ...peep my technique!

2:30- Take lunch break, assure supervisor I'll be back in exactly 60 minutes, accept nonbelieving eyeroll and knowing smirk as a 10 minute bonus.

2:33- Arrive at ground floor, leave building, head toward 15th St. station. Avoid 3 people giving out flyers and 2 bums asking for change, stiffarm Greenpeace worker trying to save trees. (Why must every block in Center City be filled with folk that want to slow you down? Mafucka, do I look like I have a minute!? I ain't tryna sign up for s h i t, MOVE!)

2:37- Board El towards West Philly, prepare to use train ride as observation time for writing this type of shit. (Can't make bricks without clay...)

2:49- Get off El at 60th street, walk down steps (slide down banister if nobody's looking, not only is it fun, I save 17 seconds...) walk across street to 46 stop.

2:50- Board 46, ride 2 blocks, hop off at Race. (Yes, the bus ride is necessary...surprisingly it takes about 30 seconds on the bus but a good 3 minutes to walk.) One time I had the following exchange:

AJ: *pulls stop string* Aight let me off here...
Driver: Really? You just got on at Market, you couldn't just walk those 2 blocks? You're too young to be that lazy.
AJ: I coulda, sure...but y'all raised prices just the other week and I'm getting my money's worth, fuck that...
Driver: *opens door, laughs, shakes head* You got it...have a good one...
AJ: *is already off bus and half a block away*

2:52- Arrive at door.

2:57- Get upstairs, throw shirt on chair. (Why does it take me 5 minutes to get up the damn stairs? Because I can't figure that stupid lock out...I've been there a month plus and it's still like trying to do a fuckin Rubik's cube every time I try to unlock that door...at least it makes me feel secure, if I have that kind of trouble WITH the key, imagine a mafucka without one? By the time he actually broke in the Treehouse, I could have not only slipped out the window to the gun store, but went through the 3 day waiting period to actually own the piece...but I'm off topic, anyway...)

2:59- Remove leftovers/Hot Pocket/sandwich made night before/can of Spaghetti-Os/whatever can be nuked and eaten quickly from fridge, throw into microwave.

2:59:34- Walk over to Blue Star Lounge, flop into lounge, turn on Maury.

2:59:59- Get food from microwave, (1 second before the timer goes off...I don't even know why I do that, but I'm sure I'm not the only one who does it...maybe we're scared that anything beeping could secretly be a bomb or something...especially with all the radiation and shit, its just safer to snatch it early...or something...) sit back on lounge, begin to eat and watch 1st segment of Maury. Chuckle at the unfortunate circumstances of other folks' lives, appreciate mine just a little bit more.

3:08- Commercial break! Toss paper plate in trash, get premade drank from freezer, pour glass, pack a bowl.

3:10- Show's back on! Grab lighter, spark up, take first sip, see who's the father of the next maybe baby.

3:17- Next commercial break...exit time, gotta at least kinda be back on time, right? Put (non weed smelling!) shirt back on, walk down stairs, touch logo above door, lock door, roll out.

3:19- Arrive at 46 stop, wait for 2 block lift.

3:20- 46 comes...reverse earlier route downtown.

3:38- Back at my desk (2 minutes early too...um, kinda...) for last 52 minutes of work, pat self on back for another lunch well done.

Well, asker...that's what I do during lunch. While normal folk sit and eat bags of chips from the vending machine at their desks while trying not to get caught looking at porn, I make the most of my hour's vacation from work. (Plus, I'm usually higher than Willy Wonka's blood sugar when I come back, which really helps the rest of the day go by...) Hopefully you enjoyed this look behind the scenes of my life...and aren't gonna tell on me...lol...thx for your question...



Aight, let's do this...

What role should a woman serve in society?
That's one hell of a question...and the thing is there's so few women left that it's hard to say. (Plenty of bitches tho...and a bitch's place is on her back or in the kitchen, everybody knows that...) I'm kinda old fashioned tho, my model for a woman is my mommy, and she works (makes herself useful), took care of me and my sis (handles her affairs), deals with my pop (is a good companion), and cooks (cooks)....I think that's good enough...

*waits for hate mail*

Why don't you date fat girls? They give the best head!!!
You know what, I think more dudes than you think do...it's just that it's underreported...I've heard it said that they're something like mopeds, fun to ride until your friends see you...lol...

(P.S.- That second part of your question is true in most cases...I think it has something to do with overactive salivation glands leading to increased lubrication...just a theory of mine...)

Alicia Keys or Beyonce? Choose one.
Alicia Keys, no contest...

If God turned you into a sexy woman right now, would you come up on selling your body?
Hell, some bitches is hoes for free...but if I was a woman I'd be a les anyway, I can't see myself enjoying dick in any scenario...so yeah, I'd sell myself to other chicks...

Purple or Patrice, pick one.
If you could somehow promise I would never see her again in this or any other life, Purple...I would off myself most expediently if I ever woke up next to Patrice...

hahaha are all your bachelor kitchen thingys gonna have weed?
hahahah no...I just started out that way, I don't eat weed all the time, I wish I had that type of money...

If you met a fly bitch and had to convert to her religion to get in them draws, would you?
Nope...I wouldn't change my mind to impress some random bitch, let alone my religion...I'm an Anthonist for life...

What would you do if a man at the bar kept buying you drinks? At the end of the night he asked for your number just for networkin, would you give it to him?
I would accept the drinks, but I would make sure to tell dude after drink #3 that wasn't no lavender midnight swordfights goin on between us ever in life...buying a dude you don't know one drink is a nice gesture, 2 is an offer of friendship, 3 is a come-on...and I wouldn't give him my number, but I would befriend him on Facebook...that way I can find out more about him than he could ever tell me (plus it's way easier to delete them that way if it is some funny shit...)

lol is Philly A&T a real college?
lol sure...Philly Agricultural and Technical Institute is a fine school...it's not accredited yet and only has one student who is also the head professor, dean, and director of student life, but we're taking applications...plus our horticulture program is pretty stimulating lol

Would you say that smoking weed is un lady like ?
Not at all...in fact sharing a smoke with a ladyfriend can be a very mentally and physically intimate event...now not sharing weed...that's unladylike..

what's the highest you've ever been?
One time in college I got so lifted that I forgot how zippers work and had to take my track jacket off as a pullover...I had to be standing in front of that mirror for a good 15 minutes just laughing my ass off...that was a fun night....

What made you start this blog?
Boredom, honestly...well, that and the fact that a couple people had been telling me I should start one of these since Ive been scribbling random dumb shit in different spots (NT, gtalk, gmob, AIM, Facebook, MySpace back when it was alive) for as long as the internet's been out and that it should all be in one place...and here you see the results....

Are Philly girls hotter than Dallas girls?
Are Philly girls hot? Maybe 10% of em...Purple turned me off of Philly girls for a long time lol...besides, Dallas girls are way more likely to be Cowboys fans, so they win by default..

How'd you like the new Twilight movie?
I never really understood the new fascination with vampires in pop culture period, let alone shirtless male ones...if they make a topless female bloodsucker flick ("Headlights"?) I'll be more interested...but until then, this is not the blog you're looking for lol...

where did u learn all ur advanced camera phone techniques hahah
years and years studying the candid photo arts...the key for the simpler moves like the "blatant but quick flick" is speed and reaction time, but the subtler ones like the "phone-in-lap shot" require creativity and finesse...it's challenging, but rewarding...

what did u eat for lunch today??
You know what, I'll tell you later...thanks for that!

If you ever hit a 250 million dollar jackpot, what would do with the money?
Love the ones where I can just copy and paste...
From "Before I Die.."

4) Get rich. I know that's on everybody's list, but I wanna be unsightly rich. The type of rich where I can just give $5,000 to a total stranger. I would change people's lives, man...let it be known here and now that if I ever hit the lottery for some ungodly amount of money, fuck it...all you guys get $10,000 each. (*subject to approval*) There it is, in writing. That's not to say I wouldn't spend any doin foolish rich-guy shit. I would get pipes in my crib that put out formula 50 vitaminwater, buy a share of the Dallas Cowboys, build me an Iron Man suit (which takes care of #1 too) and ride down Broad Street butt-ass nekkid on a gold-plated Segway throwin out Sacagewea dollar coins. (Savor that image lol) Oh yes, it beez like that.

I meant every word...and yes, 250 mil is an "ungodly amount of money", so that promise still holds...cross your fingers for me lol

I love you guys...thanks for making Wednesday a day I can actually look forward to...same time next week, people...if you haven't gotten in on the fun yet, now's the time...or then is the time...whatever, just ask a damn question...quickbox is right >over yonder> but if you like the scenic route better:


Camera Phone Ninja Vol. 30- Ass'd out

Like once a month I actually get up from this chair I'm typing in and walk 4 blocks (now that I've done physical labor, I feel justified in taking the rest of the day off while still in the office) to make deliveries from the office I work in over to the courts we power when the dickhead attorneys I work around forget their case files. (How a lawyer goes to court without case files is beyond me...you kinda need that...it's like a cop forgetting his gun on the dining room table or LeBron James showing up for his 1st practice with Miami in dress shoes..."Oh damn, sorry guys, left my sneakers in Ohio, but I can still play in these penny loafers tho, right?") It's not really my job, but I figure small favors to the workplace are a fair trade for my late arrivals, early exits, long breaks, and hour and a half lunches.

Anyway, on the way back from one of these, there I was walking and texting away when in my owl-like peripherals I saw a bald...um...woman? His/her head glistened in the sun like a cultured brown pearl produced by a transsexual clam, and the glint from its reflective dome pulled my eye away from my phone...that's when I saw that either its wardrobe was malfuctioning, its skirt was running away from its dick, or she had on a really bad Last Airbender costume...either way the entire left asscheek was exposed for all of downtown Philly to see. I knew then it was ninja time.

I walked calmly past it, pretending not to notice but already unsheathing my camera app. I had to use all of my not inconsiderable camera phone ninja experience...taking pics on the sly requires stealth and strategy...but what technique should I use? The no-look underhand palm shot? The "you think I'm using my phone as a mirror but taking your picture right in front of your face" move? The over-the-shoulder flick? No...this was a job for the text-message fakeout...

I spun into a lean on a light post, pulled my hat down low over my eyes, held my phone in both hands while flailing my thumbs around and slowly leveling my lens and waited for the moment...my finger quivered on the trigger of my camera like a sniper as I waited for an opening. I was almost distracted by some chick who must also be a camera phone ninja when she walked by and gave me a knowing glance before she smiled and moved on...but I was able to steel my mind and keep my focus on that shemale's buttcheek. (I really never thought I would type that sentence.) All of a sudden, there it was! I pressed the shutter button and disappeared in a puff of cigarette smoke blown by a passerby. From a block away, I saw it finally fix the problem...but the damage was done.She was now the butt of my jokes...and that is the great honor in being a camera phone ninja...watch out, Philly...lol...


Highs and Lows

The Straight Dope (Article)

This right here...this that bullshit I be talkin' about. According to this article, scientists at some smart guy academy somewhere studied 50,000 adults and think they have found out a link between early marijuana use and later depression. (Never mind that if you get dismissed from your 3rd grade class every afternoon and go right over behind the jungle gym and blaze up, you have bigger problems than adult onset depression spells...wait until junior year of high school like a normal person, jeez...) Yeah, yeah...we know...weed is a dangerous, mind-destroying drug...just ask anybody who never tried it.

It's like...really, depression? Nobody smokes a bunch of weed then commits suicide...number one, it's a waste of green and number two you'll probably forget that you got high for that reason and just go see what's on TV/what you have to eat. If anything it's the cure for depression...it's hard as hell to frown with a joint between your lips. I mean, let's be honest here...when's the last time you saw somebody get high and start crying? It's bullshit...they even admit as much in the article: "the link weakened when scientists factored in other variables such as school attendance, abuse of other 'drugs', and childhood conduct problems". Well, of course you're depressed, you're a 10th grade dropout crack fiend with a rap sheet giving handjobs behind Pathmark for loose change...that has nothing to do with weed, I'd be a bit down too.

It seems if you can string together enough half-truths and leaps of faith, you have scientific theory...aight fine. Scientists at Philly A&T have discovered a link between the wearing of fitted hats and reduced bear maulings. One subject has worn a fitted every day since the beginning of 8th grade and July 12, twentyten and has not been mauled by a bear in that time. Scientists have admitted the link weakens when factors such as rare bear encounters and urban environments are considered, but the link seems strong nonetheless. See how stupid (and how much like a high person wrote it) that sounds?

The fact is that bullshit like this does nothing more than scare people into not seeking the truth for themselves. One might say even the most farfetched scientific conclusions are rooted in some type of truth (after all,we once believed that the earth was 2-dimensional...and if you look around at the planet you're sitting on, it's true that it looks more flat than like the blue space marble we all know and love...) and I guess that is a valid point. Marijuana does cause depression...just very indirectly.

Smoking weed could lead to arrest and prosecution by an overaggressive legal system that takes weed way too seriously and cause depression. Smoking weed could lead to the munchies and cause up to a 17% increase in one's grocery bill and cause depression (but only on non payweeks). Most of all, smoking weed could lead to running out of weed and cause depression...and that's just not a chance I'm willing to take, so I'm calling my local pharmacist right now...lol...


Bachelor Kitchen: Chili Cheese Cannaburger

*fittedwearer's note: Welcome to Kitchen Stadium for the premiere of "Bachelor Kitchen", where I show you how not to starve just because you don't know how to cook or are single/broke, because let'sbe real...times are rough, and nobody has money to be ordering food every night. (How I missed home cooking before I began...improvising...now I'm just as fat as before and twice as happy, all thanks to me!) Now, the items presented in this section may require some light prep work such as chopping and shit, and in the most extreme scenario there might be some whisking, but nothing too strenuous. (I am a stoner, after all...jeez...) Also, feel free to tweak my recipes to your taste...I'm not here to judge you, just feed you.

What you see here may look like an ordinary chili cheeseburger, but is really an excuse for me to go off on an unnecessarily dramatic tangent. Since the dawn of time, man has pondered important questions: "What's the meaning of life?", "What happens after we die?", "What came first, the chicken or the egg?" (The egg, obviously...dinosaur eggs were around way before chickens, duh...never said what kind of egg...) Of course, many of the people who spend large amounts of time as intronauts drifting through the docile sea of thought we call our minds (or splashing around in the shallow puddle in some cases) use life enhancers like marijuana to paddle their vessels...accordingly, man has pondered one otherquestion for a while too: is it possible to get the munchies while curing them? Well, the answer to that is "yes", and one of the many ways to do it is with this creation, the Chili Cheese Cannaburger.

What you will need:
-1 lb ground beef (thawed, genius...)
-a can of chili (if you really wanna be fancy, you can make it yourself...and since you know everyfuckinthing, you don't need instructions on that, do you?!)
-2 slices of cheese (or however many you want, fuckit...)
-buns (I hadn't been shopping at the time, sue me lol...toasted potato bread worked just fine)
- some weed (1 gram for every 4 ounces of meat. If you don't know what a gram is, you shouldn't be smoking, you should be studying.)

1) Get your crops and grind them as finely as you can. (Resist the urge to smoke any, you'll be high enough in about 20 minutes.) An interesting fact about the active ingredient in weed is that it's fat-soluble, which means it absorbs into butter, lard, and in this case, animal fat if it's heated to cooking temperatures. The finer the green is ground, the better it will ultimately absorb...so use a grinder or something. (I guess you can use a cheese grater if you ain't got one...but why the hell don't you?)

2) Sprinkle the ground herbs onto the meat and knead it all together. Really get your hands in there. (The fuck you mean I didn't tell you to wash your hands?! If that doesn't go without saying, you may not have been raised right...) When it looks evenly distributed throughout the meat, you're good.

3) Grab your meat (heehee) and separate it into equal portions. I did 1/3 pounders, but in case you lack mathleticism, 4 gives you quarter pounders, 3 gives you third pounders, and if for some odd reason you want a full pound burger, don't divide it at all. (Do, however, update your life insurance information.) Form them into round, flat meat coasters. Make sure you smash it down just a little more than probably makes sense to you, undersmashed burgers have a bad habit of meatballing up on you.

4) Get a pan, oil it up (butter works in a pinch) and get it hot. I have no idea what temperature, but just turn that shit all the way up and stand back. When the oil begins to sizzle, toss your 1st burger on. After a few minutes, your kitchen may get a bit hazy and will begin to smell like weed. This is the desired effect, and you can even get a early boarding pass for your later flight by standing close to the pan while it's frying. Might as well get your money's worth.

5) After 4-7 minutes, (depending on the size of burger and desired done-ness) flip the burger. This cooks it on the other side...duh. Whenever it looks done, snatch the thing out of the pan and put it off to the side. Grab the next raw beef disc and repeat steps 4 and 5 until all patties are cooked.

6) Arrange a patty (2 if you must), cheese and chili on the bun. Everybody has their own special order in which the ingredients of a sandwich should be applied. I won't impose mine you, figure it out.

7) (I really have to tell you to eat it? *sigh* Fine...) Enjoy! It serves the roughly same number of people as there are patties, less if somebody feels like being fat. Wait 30 minutes, then try to get up off the couch. Oh, you can't? Great job! Now turn on some music or write a poem or make a clever Facebook status or something...you should be good and inspired to do anything that doesn't involve moving...lol...

Hopefully you enjoyed this edition of "Bachelor Kitchen". Join me next time as I experiment with different foods to make sure I don't go hungry. (and so I have shit to write about) Remember, a kitchen is just as much a laboratory as a place to cook...so have fun with it. I'm gonna go look busy for the rest of the workday now...happy Friday umf!


Cheating: An Interview

Cheating is one of the most controversial topics in relationships. It causes heartbreak, regret, hilarious daytime TV shows, and egregious alimony settlements. (Must...not...make...Tiger...joke...) Whether the parties involved admit it or not, about 74% of relationships have at least one cheating partner. (Hi, Tamieka! ...bitch...) The fact is, a lot of people cheat...but is it ever justified? I'm not involved right now, so I can't provide a timely answer for that since I can't cheat...but I happen to know an authority on cheating: a philandering Philadelphian we call Blaze around these parts (who should hope whoever he's dealing with now don't read umf). Hopefully he can shed some light on what's done in the dark.

umf: What's the good word, bruh?

Blaze: Can't call it like I ain't pay my phone bill...what's goin on with you?

umf: Being broke because I did pay mine...hot enough for ya?

B: The fuck kind of question is that? Nigga don't you watch the news it's been 100 degrees all week!

umf: It's a figure of speech, a pleasantry...damn...

B: I figure it would be pleasant if you didn't make speeches about that type bullshit. It's already hotter than pregnant pussy without you blowing all your hot air around...making the back of my neck sweat and shit, shut the fuck up with that...

umf: Hot flashes? Somebody's on their cycle...I hear cranberry juice helps. Anyway, yeah...I wanted to talk to you about cheating today.

B: *looks off into space, smiles*

umf: Yo!

B: *snaps back to reality* Oh, my fault...I got caught up in a daydream about that...actually I've been making up with my baby moms lately, I ain't been on the prowl lately...

umf: You ah a lyah...

B: *laughs* Nah, man for real...we have something special this time. It's good, I'm happy for real.

umf: That's what you said the last 6 times...then after she bleached her name into all your shirts you said you were done, remember?

B: That's just love...

umf: Whatever...y'all both crazy, y'all belong together...anyway, you've cheated on her before...many, many times...I know for a fact, I was your alibi sometimes...so why did you do it?

B: I had reasons.

umf: Go on...and you can leave out "'Hey, I'm just a man", it's true to an extent but you can't put that where females can read it.

B: Damn, that was answers 1 and 2...ain't my fault bitches is hoes, some even knew about my girl and ain't care.

umf: No, it's not, true...but you should keep Blaze South under control.

B: He's "Southern Smoke", thxmuch...

umf: Didn't need to know the pet name for your pipe, but whatever...moving on, I guess the point is have you ever felt justified in cheating?

B: You know what, it always feels kinda wrong...

umf: Wow, you do have a soul!

B: ...but then I slide up in her and it feel much better.

umf: Tragic. *laughs* Aight, so you always know you're wrong for cheating, you just do it anyway?

B: Not always...sometimes she bring it on her ownself.

umf: How's that work?

B: She could cheat on you first...

umf: Goes without saying...couldn't really hold that against you.

B: And you know how some chicks like to play that game where they cut you off for some shityou did? Felicia love doing that shit...she always talkin bout "you ain't gettin none tonight" whenever she get mad.

umf: Haaaaaa...you gotta sleep on the couch...

B: *scoff* Shiiiiiiit, I wish the fuck I would...I pay the rent in that mafucka, if the bitch can pick me up and carry my black ass to the couch, she got it... Otherwise, if the problem that deep, you can get the fuck out.

umf: I see...you were saying about "not getting none tonight?"

B: Yeah...she like to pull that bullshit...know what I say to that? "Not from you..."

umf: Damn, straight like that though?

B: Straight LIKE that...think about it this way: If I ain't gettin fed at home, I'm gonna go get some takeout. Same shit. Fuck it, if you can't work with me, I go play somewhere else.

umf: Wow that's crazy...

B: Is it? Imagine, you got a girlfriend...

umf: Imagine that.

B: Word...and she decide she can get some lovin' whenever she want, to the point where she wake your ass up when you're all tired from doing whatever it is you do all day so y'all can get it in...but it's not a 2-way street, she can just shut you down if she want. Now, imagine she say no for a week straight. 2, even.

umf: Well, yeah I'd feel some type of way, but I would probably want to talk about it and see what the problem wa--

B: Shut the fuck up, damn! You always gotta be Dr. Philly?! Everything with the talking and emotions and shit...tell me this, blogger boy...how's your sensitive bullshit working with the ladies?

umf: *rolls eyes, sighs, pulls down on fitted*

B: Say no more. I know you ain't gettin none...so based on that, who would you say is doin' it wrong?

umf: Man, I'm this close to ending my drought by fuckin..your dumb ass up...can I finish, please? I was gonna say I would want to talk to her and find out what the problem was, but if she really wasn't willing to at least talk about it, I'd have to consider it to be honest. I mean, your arms do get a little tired after a couple weeks.

B: *laughs* You would know, right? Anyway, yeah...if I can get a "maybe" out of you as a dude, think about what another female besides your main can get out of you during a dry spell if she determined to get it.

umf: hmm...

B: Shit, a lot of bitches throw it at you nowadays, they don't give not one fuck. It's harder NOT to cheat if your girl is denying you. I mean, if we ain't fuckin', for all that we can just be friends. I feel like people in a relationship have a responsibility to make sure their partner is satisfied, or risk losing them...whether that's permanently or long enough to "go get milk and eggs" at 2am.

umf: Interesting perspective...you have a way of making the most fucked up things sound almost acceptable. In a different life, you would have made an excellent lawyer.

B: And you woulda made an excellent writer.

umf: *laughs* Fuck you dude...remember that next time you want me to write a makeup poem to Felicia for you, dickhead.

B: Why it gotta be that?

umf: Aight then, watch your mouth...that's about all the type we have for today, any final thoughts?

B: You ain't have to put my makeup poem trick out there... Good thing Felicia don't do shit on the internet but Twitter. We done here? I'm supposed to meet my jumpoff at the movies. I'm taking her to the matinee so nobody important see us...smart, right?

umf: I thought you wasn't--never mind...aight man, til next time...



Happy Wednesday umf'ers, both openly reading and closet fans...that's right, the anonymous "Mad Hater" has returned!

Did u drunktext purple yet lol
Nope...AJ North won't allow it, and since AJ South can't type...

where did u get all ur comprehensive hoodrat info lmao
Independent observation as well as classes at Philly A&T where I achieved my Master's in Hoodrat studies...my credentials speak for themselves lol

u actually saw a bitch feed shrimp fried rice to a baby?
Yup...I wanted to call DHS on her, she was doing the "mama bird" thing where they chew the food up and spit it into the baby's mouth, but I still don't think soy sauce is meant for children under 1yr...

No 4th of July post? I'm disapponted I thought you did every holiday smh
Eh...a bunch of slaveowners decided that they weren't free enough and started a war...whatever...pass me another beer...

I read that dumbass cookout crasher post hahaha...u bust into any this weekend?
Nope hahaha...it was hot enough to make Satan sweat all weekend, so I stayed my ass in my air conditioned crib, made Foreman burgers and watched the fireworks out the window just like our forefathers (wish they could have)...

I heard that hoodrats can be attracted by certain scents...any theories?
Besides the scent of money, free food will also trigger a mating response in a Hoodrat...like any pest, if you feed them they'll never leave...

Did u have a colorful holiday lol
yeah, red white and blue...which interestingly enough, make purple when all mixed up...makes sense tho, that girl was as mixed up as they come...

Is hunting hoodrats for sport acceptable in your eyes?
Absolutely...as long as it's catch and release...lol...

lol ur a man who knows his hoodrats..personal experience?
years andyears spent in the concrete jungles they call home...I even was involved with one for a while (research purposes, purely scientific...)

why didn't u post about the bk ribs yet lol
You know, it's the damndest thing...I went in there the other day to get some and they just looked at me like I tried to order a blowjob with cheese...I'm pretty sure they took them off the menu, and since it only took maybe 3 weeks for it to happen I think that's your review right there lol...

so what's ur stage name gonna be?
lol I think I'm gonna just be AJ since I can't come up with one I wouldn't get sick of hearing in like a month....if you have an idea for me I'll take it tho...

did you hear about the anti-rape condom?
Yup...it's kind of a shame we live in a world where devices like that are necessary, but it's a good thing I guess...nothing kills the mood like plastic spikes in your dick...my only concern is for a forgetful chick's boyfriend....

When are you taking this show on the road?
2 weeks from now....I'm doin it after payday because I know ima need a drink beforehand...

your real funny "aj" or w.e your real name is...my spelling and grammar may not be best butt @ least I'm not a misssoginist woman hater like u that hoodrat post was disgusting btw u don't have to worry about me anymore but thx 4 the shoutout ASSHOLE...
Lookit, you're back! You want another list right? Fine...I can't say no to you...

1) Thx again for reading umf! I'm glad my site interests you enough to not only come back, but participate in "Formsprung" 2 weeks straight...not even all of my readers do that, I'm flattered...

2) AJ is my real name....trust me...

3) I am not a m-y-s-o-g-y-n-i-s-t....I love bitches!

4) It wasn't disgusting...it was informative...science is not always pretty...and neither are Hoodrats.

5) Here's a first..I'm gonna ask you a question: are you yourself a Hoodrat? I have a hunch you are...they seem to be the only ones with a problem with what I typed...it's aight, I'm not even mad....just happy to see Hoodrats can actually read things besides Zane books, what a groundbreaking discovery!

6) Again with the name calling...you're so insensitive, I'm not an asshole on purpose, dont you know I have CSD? (I even linked it so you can read what it is and tell me how much that post sucks too...)

7) See you next week lol

I hope that bitch comes back every week...it's like having an online punching bag lol...anyway, another fun week of "Formsprung", if you wanna get in on the fun, the blue box >over there> is your friend...or if u wanna do it the long way:

any question you want...go 'head, fire away...fuckit, I'll answer...


Random Thoughts 44- waistline punchlines on Nightline...

I was watching the news the other day (I haven't done it in a while...sober it's depressing, but when you watch the news at cruising altitude it becomes a reality TV variety show...seriously,try it one day!) and they were doing one of those reports on obesity in America. They threw out all kinds of stats like 80% of Americans are unfit for military service (awesome...more reason to eat more...you think the draft's never coming back? Riiiiiight...is that why all males over 18 are supposed to be registered in the"selective service" by law? Ima show up to the physical with a Hot Pocket in one hand and a beer in the other..."Oh, damn...guess you can't draft me, look how unfit I am...*overly disappointed sigh*") and that America was the fattest country in the world by average weight. (Ooh, big surprise...any country where the national independence day is celebrated with fireworks, beer and infinite fried foods is bound to be a little heavyset...not that I have a problem with that...) America is a chunky country...even girls named America have to be over a certain weight.

However, that's not the part that got my wheels turning. You see, every time they do one of these heavy stories, they always have accompanying images of fat folk waddling in the streets, to illustrate just how big-boned some of the citizens of the United States are. These shots are obviously taken on the sneak tip (Being a camera phone ninja, I know a "candid" angle when I see one...I always picture a cameraman casually holding a 30lb news camera under his arm pretending not to tape anything but obsessively capturing every single roll that bounces down the street.) and are always from the neck down.That's when I wondered: how embarrassing would it be to recognize your own lumpy, quivering ass on TV?

Picture sitting on the couch watching the news and seeing the pants you wore on Tuesday filled with an HD shot of your level 5 cellulite or seeing that you really, really should have worn a one-piece at the pool that day a mysterious cameraman showed up for no particular reason...that can't be a good feeling. (Maybe that's the solution to this big girl/little clothes thing...make them watch a slow motion vid of themselves lumbering down a street in a tube top that's crying to be put out of its misery...show them the very horrors they afflict the eyes of society with...) Has anybody ever been stopped on the street like "Hey, I saw your back titties on channel 6 last night...can I get your autograph?" Has anybody been on there more than once? Do they keep a bunch of Preciouses around just so they can tape them walking around whenever they want to do this story? Who has the most often filmed love handles/flesh fannypack on broadcast TV? Hmm...I wonder...

Stand Up Guy

*fittedwearer's note: This post is both an announcement and insurance for myself that I don't bitch out...

It's always been one of my life goals to stand in front of a room full of people I don't know and at least attempt to make them laugh. (Yes, it is mostly for the bitches...I can't sing worth shit and so do not think I can dance, so that's pretty much my only shot at getting groupies...) A few days ago, I ran across an ad for an open-mic night at a local comedy club that I'll give the name of after my 1st try there in a couple weeks in case I completely flame out for some reason. (Withholding it for now makes it easier to completely deny that such an event happened since nobody I know saw it...) It was like a sign...

Being a comedian is pretty simple if you think about it...give out giggles and make sure you don't trip or anything unless it's part of your act. However, in that simplicity is the most dangerous part...you have to actually get people to laugh, and not just your friends that you might be the funny one out of,but folk you have never seen before, folk you will never see again, folk that may not feel like laughing, folk that might not like your face...but you gotta make them laugh anyway. Before I even attempted to mount that stage (a very symbolic act...it's a form of bragging actually, when you step foot on that stage, you're announcing that you're a funny mafucka. If you're not, it's false advertisement and you deserve whatever happens to you.) I had to be ready...but am I? The seeds of doubt crept into my mind...there I was, at home on my couch with the B-Rabbit stuckface on, choking before I ever got under the lights.

That's when I sat and thought about all the people who are famous for being funny but are nowhere close (*cough*CarlosMencia*coughsneezesniffle*) and thought if mafuckas like that could manage to get TV shows for their brand of...ahem..."humor"...that I could get through a 3 minute set without making anybody want to walk out on me (I actually hope somebody tries so I can lay them out real quick...everybody knows mean spirited jokes are the funniest...) or hurl rotten produce at me. Suddenly, I had all the confidence in the world...I touched metaphorical pen to metaphorical pad (opened the same app on my phone I use to write umf) and began to scribble some material...my career in stand-up had begun. Wish me luck, y'all... (and if you wanna give me some material ideas, that's cool too...lol...)


Hoodrats: A Field Guide

*fittedwearer's note: It was requested of me that I do a field guide on how to properly identify a hoodrat (hi Sheena!) and so...here it is!

The hoodrat (homo birdius) is a fascinating creature. It is commonly known as the "Chickenhead", among other regionally specific terms. Although closely resembling a human in many ways, the distiguishing factor is a completely different brain wave pattern, and thus behaviors and thought process, than our own species.

It is mostly found in urban areas throughout North America, and can be readily observed in its natural habitats, although some migrate to other areas after finding a mate. This makes life especially hard for those areas in which the hoodrat does not naturally live, as they are not accustomed to their strange and mysterious ways. In an effort to provide more knowledge about this understudied beast, I have compiled the following information.

Height/Weight: Hoodrats come in many vastly different shapes and sizes, varying by breed. A miniature Chickenhead can be as small as 5 feet, but a full grown Hoodrat can weigh up to 400 pounds and beyond in extreme cases. (Oddly, the larger cows often opt to wear clothing intended for much smaller females, or even intended for their young, in a bizarre attempt to attract males. This is just one example of the altered brain waves that make the difference between hoodrats and humans.)

Calls: Asmentioned before, Hoodrats resemble humans and can sometimes move amongst us undetected...until they open their mouths. Aside from their signature gum popping and piercing cackle, Hoodrats have a language all their own, which as far as my research indicates, is English's third cousin.

It is much faster, louder, and far more simplified than the language you're reading right now. To some ears, it is extremely annoying and may result in homicidal thoughts or the general urge to be vulgar. However, one must choose this path with great care. Any aggressive interaction will cause it to utilize a series of shrieks and squawks to draw attention to itself. This vocalization, called a "spaz", is known to drive humans to insanity, murder, and alternate lifestyles.

It is a rallying cry amongst the hoodrat, and is seen as a honorable method of conflict resolution. One grave mistake to make is underestimating a smaller Hoodrat's call. What it lacks in size it often makes up for in volume, which can cause a human being intense discomfort in a social situation...the hoodrat is impervious to this type of embarrassment, and will use its language to any benefit it sees until whatever percieved situation is resolved in its eyes.

You must determine whether you are prepared to face a Hoodrat's full wrath before any attempt to modify its behavior.

Coloring/Markings: Hoodrats come in a variety of colors. Although the most common example is brown, hoodrats also come in shades of tan, pink, olive, and yellow. Most Hoodrats, along with their naturally occurring brown, blonde or black hair, choose to adorn their heads with artificial crests known as "weaves".

These weaves come in a spectacular array of colors, including blue, orange, purple, electric mint green and neon white. (You heard me.)

Many Hoodrats also have identifying markers known as "tats". Although this phenomenon is not limited to the Hoodrat, as many normal humans (including the author) have them, Hoodrat tattoos are often done at special ceremonies known as "tattoo parties", and depict things such as dripping cherries, phrases like "baddest bitch" or "queen diva super freak", and the names of mate after mate after mate. A popular location for these tats is directly above the split in the buttock. When placed here, it is called a "tramp stamp" and makes good target practice. (lol)

Dress: The hoodrat employs many styles of dress, but the most clear identifiers are clothes which are overly ventilated, insufficiently decent, or just plain retarded. An example of the last is tights printed to look like jeans, with pockets and all.

The purpose of having a picture of a pocket on an item of clothing is known only to the Hoodrat.

Also popular are extremely shiny clothing, snug yet wrinkled shirts, and clothing that says "baby girl", despite the fact that it is, in a favorite hoodrat expression, "a grown ass woman."

Habitat: Hoodrats can predictably be seen all over the hood, and even in other areas. They can be spotted in Foot Lockers buying Jordans with an Access Card, in corner Chinese stores buying shimp fried rice to feed their infants, in beauty salons spending their rent money to get their hair styled, and even adorned in their finest clothing to walk up and down the street all day.

Hoodrats are also commonly seen in bars. This is a dangerous scenario, as alcohol consumption and interaction with Hoodrats often leads to risky behavior. A Hoodrat can be a carrier of many diseases harmful to humans, including one of the most crippling, "baby mama drama", which is incurable.

Mannerisms: The hoodrat has many signature movements which distinguish it from normal humans. They include carrying a handbag slung back over the shoulder in an upturned palm, a strange method of locomotion called the "stank walk", the overhead snap, and random dancing in highly inappropriate situations.

They also lay claim to one of the oddest motions in the animal kingdom, the "neck roll". This strange movement of the neck looks something like a fire hose turned on full blast and left to flail around on the ground, and is usually done as it is in mid-spaz.

Hoodrats usually travel in packs, and can be seen loudly screeching loud enough to be heard in the next zip code despite the fact that they're 12 fucking inches away from each other. (They are well noted for their lack of the "inside voice" possessed by humans.) When they're not quacking into their cell phones, they enjoy blasting poor quality audio from them in public areas. Any attempt to interrupt this behavior, even for one's own sanity, are taken as the gravest of insults by the Hoodrat, and will lead to a spaz.

Again, this may give the average human the urge to smack its face onto the back of its head, but be warned: the cops for some reason can't tell women and Hoodrats apart, and smacking bitches is illegal in 37 states, so proceed with extreme caution.

That's all the data I have for now, but I will continue my studies. Hopefully you, armed with this knowledge, can make your next interaction with a Hoodrat an informed one. For umf, I'm AJ...thank you, and good night.