Random Thoughts 47- The Gnashing of Tweets

*fittedwearer's note: I still do not have or want a Twitter account, but I saw this on ESPN and thought it was hilarious...so there ya go. Anyways...

So there seems to be a lot of talk about Buffalo Bills WR Stevie Johnson lately. If you don't know who that is, don't feel bad...neither did I before like yesterday and I almost literally breathe football...so why is this relatively obscure player from a team nobody outside upstate New York cares about (always thought that was kind of a shame that they don't have more fans considering they're technically the only team in the state of New York...the "New York" Jets and Giants share their electrically unsound little palace of jank across the bridge in Joisey...an acceptable explanation for this has never been offered, but I will admit if I lived in New Jersey I wouldn't be too proud of that either...) the hot topic today? Well, that picture up there is of him dropping the sure winning TD pass in overtime for Buffalo in Sunday's game against the heavily favored Pittsburgh Steelers. Buffalo went on to lose. After his immaculate incompletion blew the game for his team, he had this to tweet:


The predictable uproar ensued. People accused Johnson of blasphemy and demanded he make apology for daring to challenge the Almighty on Twitter. They wondered aloud how he could have the audacity to "blame God" for his case of the stonefingers. Okay...I'm not what you'd call religious (or somebody that even gave a damn until people decided to take something written in allcaps on Twitter bible-serious...when did that start?), but I can kinda see where people would be upset...I just wonder a few things...

For one, are we even sure he was talking about God? If you read the tweet carefully (*sigh* never thought I'd see the day where I'd have to type that...) he never actually mentions anyone by name. He could have been talking about the Buffalo faithful. I'm sure he praises them for coming out and supporting him, and I'm even more sure that the entire stadium and all 53 Bills fans around the world screamed something like "GAAAH FUCK YOU, STEVIE JOHNSON!!!" at the moment of the event. He may have heard this and been so disgusted that the only people who see him play on a regular basis (NFL fans know the Bills are only shown on national TV when they will be beaten by more popular teams like the Patriots or Steelers) now vilified him that he signed in and lashed out.

Okay...maybe not. That's a stretch even for my creative powers of interpretation. But what if he was kidding? I mean...it was kind of over the top, and if you come here often you know that I'm into that type of thing. The hyperdramaticism of the posting brings to mind the image of an overacting hack in the pouring rain dropping to his knee with one clawed hand in the air screaming "CURSE YOU, CRUEL FATES!" in some horrible-ass drama movie. (The "thx tho" at the end kind of also chips away at the serious factor...I mean, come on, does something HAVE to say "lol" to be a joke?) I personally think this was his way of venting in a humorous manner...kind of like me writing about slapping Jerry Jones in a cheesesteak shop over a Drew Bledsoe jersey. (In real life, I would have punched him for offering me that rag.) I thought it was funny...but maybe some people didn't get it.

Okay, fine. Let's say he did mean it. Let's say for argument's sake that dude was so distraught over letting his teammates and fans down that he decided to lament his beef with the big guy on Twitter with a straight face. Let's even skip the joke about how God already cursed young Stevie by having him play for Buffalo.(You know how you know your team ain't so hot? When Cowboys fans can make fun of it as of 11/30/twentyten...still 5 games left tho ;) ) I wonder...what if the man was actually upset to the point that he felt that he and his God needed to have a tweet about his situation? (Religious folk should give their deities more credit...why would an omnipotent being be offended by something somebody wrote on a finite human social networking resource like Twitter? I wouldn't wanna worship somebody like that anyway...)

Aight cool...you can feel whatever way you want about that...but who hasn't done it? ("Judge not, lest ye be judged"...could swear I heard that somewhere before...let he without sin cast the first tweet...) Who hasn't had a bad day at work and started the horror story with "Oh my God..." God isn't the one who made you stay late to collate blank sheets of paper, your boss is. Where is everyone who says "fuck my life" whenever they do so much as drop some food on their clothes? Doesn't the Bible say life is sacred? If there is one, I don't think God would like you saying that too much. What about every devout Christian out there who has accidentally hit their thumb with a hammer and shouted at Jesus like it was his fault? So...how is this any different? Why so srs? I wonder...


10 Things I Hate about Yule

Well now that Thanksgiving is over and we've all eaten about 3 bread loaves worth of turkey sandwiches and almost broken our phones against the wall as a result of firing it in anger after witnessing a certain NFL team wrestle cold, bitter defeat from the mouth of victory, (okay, maybe that part was just me...Roy Williams turning that ball loose to literally hand the world champs a win was an infuriating experience...in hindsight, I'm glad I elected to watch it at home because I could just finish my beer and pass out...it was safer for everybody, trust me.) it's about time for the time of year everybody either loves or hates but has to pretend to love so people won't call them names: the holiday season....or it's politically correct term "the secular but spiritually overtoned retail-boosting grand finale event season". (Season's greetings!)

People often think of the holidays as a time of family and togetherness and appreciation of the good nature of our fellow man and family and...you know, all that shit. However, over time I've come to notice that this time brings out the inner dickhead in many folk (well, for some it's not buried too deep anyway, but it definitely comes out) and my already lukewarm position toward this time of year is especially chilly this go 'round. Before you go calling me a scrooge or a grinch or a fastizio (what?!) or something, let me give you a few reasons why this season has less reason for me than any before it.

1) Black Friday- I mean, I already covered this and used most of my good jokes in the process...but seeing people literally get trampled trying to get the last $75 Kindle (that you could have waited until today to get online at the same price and NOT risked your life) is a crying shame.

See, this video brought me to tears...of laughter. Hard to feel sorry for the guy...he made himself a target (or is it tar-zhay?) by putting himself in that position.

2) It starts earlier and earlier every year- In my day (lol) the whole seasonal thing started around this time. Now they're putting the "holiday trees" out with the pumpkins on Halloween. What the fuck sense does that make outside of "Nightmare before Christmas?" Pretty soon, they're just gonna say fuckit and make like that one guy on your street and leave the damn decorations up all 365. Least they won't have to untangle those damn lights this year.

3) It makes people irresponsible- 2 weeks ago everybody was crying poverty...now, all of a sudden, everybody has thousands of dollars to spend on the holidays. Why? Well, likely they're way overspending their budget and putting themselves into debt until Labor Day twentyleven...all to finance that one day/week. How can you claim you're broke all the time while driving home with half a Radio Shack and enough toys to keep a villiage of small children entertained til kingdom come? (Well...until the batteries run out...) It just doesn't make sense...hell, that's how everybody got broke in the first place! If you have empty pockets and a full shopping cart at Best Buy in December, you should re-evaluate your methods. If you're on welfare but spent a year's salary on the holidays, a good fiscal decision would be to kill yourself. I hear funerals are cheaper this time of year.

4) You're expected to spend it with family- Whether you like it or not. It's never just the ones you like either, it's always Uncle Herman who starts the same argument every year, Aunt Glenda who's mean as a junkyard dog with hemmoroids and smells like IcyHot at all times, or your really weird cousin who gets just a little too touchy after a glass of wine or 2, it's assumed that you will use some of the only leisure time some people's jobs give them to willfully be around that shit. My holiday gift should be to avoid these people (guilt-free).

5) That damn music- Maybe you can call me a humbugger here, but screw it...I can't stand it. Rudolph can lead Santa's sleigh into the fiery pits of hell for all I care. It wasn't so bad when it didn't start as soon as summer was over (see #2) but now every time I hear carolers I want to lob a grenade out of my window and make it a real silent night. If you're going to play the damn songs for 3 months, at least let's have more than 5...when's the last time somebody wrote a new one? Get on that, somebody...

6) It makes people fake- Again, I already covered this, but there's something about this time of year that fills certain people with the strange idea that I like them and that they should go against all prior behavior and be all "holiday spirit" with me. No, bitch...it's still "fuck you"...just like the other 11 months. Maybe "fuck you and turn that damn music off", but still definitely "fuck you".

7) It brings out the worst in people- Seems like folk will do anything to make sure their tree is trimmed...even at the expense of other folks'. Besides the standard and sure robbery of anybody who walks out of a Wal-Mart with like 8 Xbox Kinects, over the weekend around here a Toys for Tots bin at a Toys R'Us store was ransacked after hours (sure, don't steal the Toys R'Us owned toys that can be written off and replaced, steal the donated toys so poor kids all over the city can't even get a free game of "Operation"...you bastards...) and a Chuck E. Cheese was robbed at gunpoint by masked men (likely so they could give the tokens to kids in the family as gifts...can't feel right to buy anything with that money: "Say, Junior, how do you like your new toys? You better...Daddy had to empty out a Whac-A-Mole machine to get it for you...") I'm not making this up...come on, humanity...

8) You can't say "Have a great *insert specific holiday here*"- This is what really got me off the wagon last year. You tell a non-Christian person "Merry Christmas" nowadays and you're lucky if you don't get sued and then beaten up. Fuck that...how about I just tell you to put your dick in a Slap-Chop and die slow? Is that less offensive to your tender religious sensibilities?

9) Santa Claus-...fuckin' pervert...

10) I'm not even religious- Not that any of the holidays really are any more, but the 3 major holidays (and 30 minor ones) don't really mean much of anything to me. It mostly means the good episodes of Maury won't come on because they want to show holiday ones. Besides, the main holiday of Anthonism ain't til March...lol...

Don't let that stop y'all though... ;)



What it is, umf'ers? (See, Zobop Republic?) It's smack dab in the middle of the week for some suckers and Friday for the rest of us...sa-weeet... Whatever day it is, it's 7 days after the last "Formsprung" and ya know what that means?

Um...answer anytime...pretend this is "Dora the Explorer" and say it out loud...

No? Ah screw it, here's your questions...

if you were the green batman for halloween, does that make the regular batman the black batman? and if so, how can the black batman be a white guy? i'm so confused
You know, after watching the "BANG! ZAP! SPLORSH!" version of Batman and "The Dark Knight" back to back, I was confused too...especially since his original costume was gray with tiny ears and Robin (who apparently died sometime in the late 90s) wore fish-scale print panties, 2/3rds of a cape and medieval jester shoes. Seriously... But here...let me unconfuse you...



if you met a sexy ass girl, and before the drunken night was over, she starts giving you head in the alley, and in the middle of it you somehow find out she's a dude, what's your next move?
Um wow...my next move? A special one...the Spartan Kick (see post for details) ...then it's off to the Treehouse for a nice relaxing bath in boiling bleach...

lol what's a chirrens?
It's what you were when you were smaller and had better credit and an optimistic worldview...I use that "word" because it's singular and plural at the same time and I think that kind of shit is great...

(Remind me to define it in the next "High Definitions", k?)

Whatcha doin for thanksgiving?
No idea as of now, Wednesday 1:11 pm...I have 3 invites, one from the fam, one from some chick and one from my downstairs neighbor Mrs. Rogers (you may remember her cameo appearance during the Purple saga). I've yet to decide, but for all I care, long as I get fed and I get to watch the Cowboys win I'm fresh out of fucks to give about it...and will be thankful as all hell. Isn't that what the holiday is all about?

Were you bad touched as a child?
No, despite me attending Catholic school for 6 years...thanks for asking though :)

I sent you my email addy where's my jammie pic lmao
haha I did get your email...but I saved it for this Wednesday!


If you like 'em, thank my mommy...if not, go fuck yours... (Kidding of course, despite my search results I don't encourage incest...lol...)

what is that little extra thing in all ur fb status? how do u make those stars?
What, you mean like


Those are shoutouts to my 'Boys (thus the stars which I copied and pasted it from...somewhere, who fuckin knows...wonder if they'll show up on umf?) that I started doing about 3 years ago as support for a playoff run and kinda never stopped doing, even in the offseason. It's just kinda my thing to end my facebook thoughts that way...and why not, this edition of "Formsprung" too... (★wedat!★)

Well that was a relatively light mailbag, but contained all the fun of a normal one. I'm thankful for all of y'all...please believe me...and I'll be really thankful if you drop something in >that question box> or click this link to ask a question next week:

I may type to y'all tomorrow if I don't get sucked into football, food, family, or any effin thing else, but just in case I don't, happy Thanksgiving umf!


"Search Me..." I

*fittedwearer's note: all search terms are courtesy of some Google shit I was playing around with one day recently.

One thing I've learned in my time doing this is that there are a hell of a lot of exits on the internet superway...whether people are just going from site A to site B or taking long, winding drives on the byways of Google, people are traveling in every direction possible...and apparently some of those roads lead right to where you're sitting, umf. Yes, it seems that all kinds pass through here (a big difference from when this was only known about by like 6 and a half people) and they arrive in very interesting ways...in that spirit, I present a new thingy: "Search me...", which will give y'all an inside look at a few of the...interesting ways...people have stumbled upon this place this week. It's been cracking me up for a while, so maybe y'all will enjoy it too. Just for fun, I'll include the likelihood that they got what they needed from umf with that search (the Information Quotient) on a scale from 1-100...welp, here goes!

"mix with cherry pinnacle"
(and 3 variants)- This has to be from that Swilla I did on the stuff...I enjoy the shit and obvoiusly other folk do too, unlike...
*IQ: 95* (I think they got some ideas...)

"mix with cotton candy vodka" (and 4 variants)- this stuff. Besides me hating it in my review, it seems like a lot of the internet really couldn't figure out what the hell to do with sugar flavored sugar vodka. They didn't figure it out here, that's for sure. (Unless they took the suggestion from the post to just say fuckit and chase it with malt liquor...)
*IQ: 17* (I offered no mixing suggestions, but maybe my post told them to leave that shit on the shelf, and I think that's helpful too...)

"wendy's spicy chicken nuggets" (and 4 variants)- this one has been searched for pretty much every week since I wrote it. Even though my ETCAM review was on the spicy variety, which Wendy's has a on-again, off-again relationship with, this has been getting hits since I pushed the word "post". (and that was a long ass time ago...)
*IQ: 90* (I mean, what else can you get typing this in? I'm just surprised umf is so high in the results...)

"no shit mr holmes"- Well, since I never posted about Sherlock Holmes that I know about, it could have only come from that post that (I like to think) got ex-Cowboys coach Wade Phillips fired. Don't feel bad for him, he did some good things, but it wasn't enough this week, he'll take a look at what he may have done wrong as a coach and try to be better next time... (only 'Boys fans would catch that one haha)
IQ: 59 (maybe he was searching for an autobiography of Holmes' life, but it's likely he was looking for sarcasm...I lean towards the 2nd...)

"black ass blogspot" (2x)- Not entirely sure what to make out of this one. I do use the phrase "my black ass" as much as anyone else with brown buttocks, but I wouldn't call this a "black ass blogspot"...for one it's blue, and number B, I've never even typed the last word of that search term before the middle of this run-on sentence...that being typed, this is probably exactly what they had in mind.
IQ: 87 (cuz I'm black y'all, and I'm black y'all, and I'm blackity black, cuz I'm black y'all...)

pshchology of hoodrat (3x)- It seems like I get one of these every day too...of course, it's from that infamous hoodrat manual I wrote but I had no idea at the time people were so interested in what makes hoodrats tick. Now I do.
IQ: 100.5 (I took great care to make that post a compendium of hoodrat knowledge...I'm sure all 3 of them learned all they wanted to know...)

"amateur hoodrats"- would have normally gone in the variants section of the one before this, but I wanted to know...is there such a thing as a professional hoodrat? (Oh, wait...there's that Bad Girls Club show and that Nicki Minaj chick too...never mind) Maybe this person aspires to be a hoodrat and wants to know what the career path is...but the thing is once you're on a career path, you can't really be a great hoodrat...the conundrums of life...
IQ: 78 (at least I let them know how to be a hoodrat properly, if they really want to do that with their lives)

"thanksgiving facts"- Not sure how this one led here...I don't have too many facts here, just jokes of varying comic value, drug use, and silly pictures. I did have a Thanksgiving post last year shouting out everything I was thankful for and my readers at the time (all 10 lol...maybe I should do another this year) but no objective facts at all. After all, I don't have to be objective, it's my fitted and I'm under it!
IQ: 0 (You're way more likely to find Miles Austin than Miles Standish on umf...)

"facebook status truth is why wassup rate me any thing like that"- This clearly...well, kinda clearly...relates to Facebook (one of my areas of expertise) and the little status games folk like to play every so often, which I posted about. The tone of the search term can be interpreted as inquisitive, like they were just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. Either that or they wanted to learn the rules so they could play and proliferate the games themselves. Tough call...
IQ: 50 (depends whether they were for or against Facebook and the games thereof)

and that brings me to my personal favorite of the week:

"grampa eat my pussy"- While I can assure you with utter conviction that I've never written a post anything like this and wouldn't recommend you Google that without your safesearch on, I can't help but find it hilarious that some alternafreak ass person typed this into their browser and found umf. What has search overload done to us? lol...
IQ: 1 (there's a very outside chance they were looking for my post about the Morgan Freeman fiasco...*rimshot*)

Aight, boys and girls, that's just a few of the ways you can end up under here with me. I didn't know I had that much of an impact on the internet (and still wonder who Googles some of this shit), but screw it...the bigger the footprint I leave on the web, the harder my shoes are to fill. I'll probably do this again on every 4th Tuesday of the month...or whenever I remember...or something, whatever, you'll see it again at some point. Until then, remember...for the number one authority in flavored vodka, fast food, hoodrats, deceptively titled posts, blackness and a tiny pinch of incest (apparently), trust umf...fucking up your Google searches since 2009!


Lies they Tell the Chirrens: Bad Touches

This is one we all heard as kids and that up until recently, I believed pretty strongly. You see, as chirrens the adults tell us that we should never let a stranger see or touch your private parts (aka "no-no zone", "areas a bathing suit would cover" or "that place on this doll where Uncle Leroy touched one of your cousins which is why he's not allowed at Thanksgiving dinner anymore") and for their own protection, that is great advice.

However, discarding the ironic fact that we spend a big chunk of our adult lives trying to exchange just these kinds of touches with other consenting folk, (we learn that it's okay as long as you ask nicely...) that seems to have been turned into a lie...at least if you're planning on flying. You see, new regulations at airports nationwide now require that you either get scanned (which renders the kind of image seen at the top...very detailed, right? There are grainy black and white nipples and some kind of shadowy ghost dick. It's like a pornographic version of the tape they found in "The Ring") or submit to a patdown, which is more like a standing public erotic massage, as a condition of boarding a plane.

Now far be it from me to discourage attempts at keeping planes from blowing up or crashing into highrises and shit...I mean, that stuff is pretty important. Even the chirrens know that. I'm just saying this new procedure goes against stuff that a lot of people's mommies and daddies taught them...you mean to board a plane now I have to either step through some kind of nudity portal that shows me (and whatever horny ass TSA agent is at the monitor) what I would look like as Dr. Manhattan from "Watchmen" or let some creep in a rent-a-cop suit get halfway to 3rd base without even friending me on Facebook first? (Seriously, I've seen the procedure...if I tried some of that stuff on the street, crying "national security" won't slow down the tazing and imminent arrest sure to come.)

Um...okay, I guess... It'll take some getting used to, but I'll eventually come to terms with it. (My personal terms are "I'm staying my black ass on the ground until they find a better way to do this shit, fuck that".) That old guy on the money I don't have once said those who will choose security over liberty deserve neither, but he was mostly just some old weirdo who liked to play outside during electrical storms...nobody listens to him any more. Point is, we were all told to keep our private parts private as kids...but if you want to get on a plane, guess what? That's just another lie they tell the chirrens... (So make sure you wear clean underwear like your mother always told you...that's NOT a lie...lol...)


In Loko Parentis

Well, this Friday marks a dark day in the world of college students and other budget alcohobbyists everywhere...in case you hadn't heard, they're all set to ban the knockout punch known as 4 Loko from shelves everywhere in an attempt by our government to protect the American people from themselves. The FDA has demanded that all of the stuff be removed from shelves altogether in the next 15 days. umf'er/fellow e-soapboxer Justus Steel has plenty of really funny shit to say about this already, which kinda makes it hard to do an original post since the guy's pretty much MTV to my BET...except neither of us suck...but I'm gonna go ahead and throw my two cents in (it's my change from buying my last 4Loko...I do drink it occasionally and I'm still alive and typing...even wrote a review). You just know I have all kinds of problems with this.

The first reason they give for telling us we can't drink this stuff any more is that the FDA has determined that caffeine is an unsafe and deadly addition to an alcoholic beverage. I say tell that to my 10th grade gym teacher who put cream, sugar and Makers' Mark in his coffee before class...Mr. Sweeney is still alive and well as far as I know. (I don't even think his curvy, bouncing trick kickball pitch has suffered as a result. Looking back, it may have even helped...shit, off topic already...come on AJ...) I've had more *insert energy drink here* and vodkas than I can count, and I haven't died once...sounds like a crock of bullshit to me, and bullshit can be a more deadly additive than caffeine can ever be.

The second thing usually brought up is it's high alcoholic content. It's true...4Loko's powers of rapid intoxication are the stuff of legend. At 23.5 ounces of 12% alcohol that tastes like a Jolly Rancher soaked in beer and vodka, 4Loko can get you fucked up fast and if you drink too much of it...indeed, you will die. However, here's the thing about that...you can die from drinking too much of anything, dumbass! If you drink too much Everclear (or even much at all) you will die. If you take too many turns on the beer bong, you will die. If you take down enough bottles (or boxes) of wine, you will die. Hell, even water, which comes in at 0 proof, will kill you dead as shit if you put too much of it in yourself...the responsibility lies with the drinker...I think that's what that whole "drink responsibly" thing came from. (At first, I thought it was a toast indicating that the responsible thing to do was finish my drink...silly me...)

Then there's my favorite, that 4Loko attracts underage drinkers with it's 2.50 price point (which attracts adults too...hell, times is hard, sometimes you just want to get fucked up for 3 bucks), colorful can/liquid and similarity to other canned beverages like Arizona iced teas...you know, except for the inch high letters bellowing "CONTAINS ALCOHOL, REQUIRES ID, OVER 21 ONLY, DON'T GIVE THIS SHIT TO KIDS!" and everything. That's another very valid point...but before they ban this, they should take products like Boone's Farm and Smirnoff Ice off the shelves...that's beginner booze and everybody knows it. Have you ever seen anybody legal drink any of that shit? (They can recall that Verde Spumanti shit too...nothing to do with the post, it's just that nobody ever buys it and I'm sick of seeing it in the stores...it's depressing!) Oh yeah, and isn't it the store's responsibility to check ID to make sure nobody under 21 buys ANYTHING alcoholic or is that just me?

What all this is is a textbook overreaction to a few people being fuckin dickheads (have you seen these videos online where people drink 3 or 4 and then get shitfaced and sick over the course of like an hour? Well big surprise there, you drunk the equivalent of half a bottle of hard drank in the time it took to shoot a YouTube video...shocking, I had no idea people would experience adverse effects from something like that.) and ruining it for everybody. Well...everybody but 4Loko...the controversy as always pushed sales when news of its imminent banning surfaced and people ran out to beat Loko Prohibition and staggered home with pallets of Loko while enjoying one on the walk...can you say "backfire"? I'm just waiting for the first black market Loko hustleman to walk up to me on 60th street and open his trenchcoat to reveal cans of the shit hanging off. ("Psst...yo...got that Loko Ono out...this right here is pure shit, not cut with grape juice and light beer like those dudes down the street. First one was free til I saw that was all people need...I got you on a 3 for 10 though, what's up?")

I'm not a huge Loko drinker, but I can honestly say I can decide what to drink for my damn self, and if that's a fruit flavored malt liqour 5 hour energy drink (that just sounds bad doesn't it? Exactly my point...if you look past the description and drink it anyway, you've made your choice.) then let me do it. It's not the government's job to come to your house and put plug blockers in all the outlets to keep you from sticking a fork in it, it's not the government's job to cordon off bus stops to make sure you don't wait for a bus in the middle of the street, it's not the government's responsibility to roll a condom over your dick before sex so you don't come up with an excuse to use Valtrex, and it's not the government's job to ban adult beverages so adults can't decide, as an adult, to drink enough to kill their dumb asses.

Hell...I say if people want to be stupid, let 'em...it decreases the population, maybe Social Security will last a bit longer. My mommy lets me drink 4Loko, why the fuck can't the government? (Besides, what are they gonna do with all the 4Loko "tainted" with caffeine? Dump it in a river? Sell it in Mexico? Have a giant homeless birthday party? Just fathoming how much alcohol is about to be wasted makes me misty eyed.) The old adage stands...4Loko doesn't kill people, smartlessness does. Well, that's the way I see it...anyway, happy Friday umf! Have a great weekend...or don't. (I'm not gonna tell you what to do, that's the government's job lol...)


Too Late to 'Pologize? (a letter to anybody offended by the Q and A post)

*fittedwearer's note: Well, apparently my thoughts on misuses of elements of Facebook hold more weight than I thought...you see, Tuesday's post was appreciated by more people than I expected (thanks again for sitting through that, people...I know I test your attention span lol) but it came at an unforseen cost: 5 friends on Facebook were so appalled by my final A to all the Q's that they deleted me. That's 5 high school classmates/ex-coworkers/"that one chick I know from around" I will probably never talk to again...which might not sound like a lot, but when you only have what hovers around 100, that's like 5 percent...or something, whatever. After that, it crossed my mind...gee, maybe I have gone too far this time. Maybe, just maybe...this one is on me. As a result, this letter is an apology to those folk and anybody that has ever been offended by anything I write...I know they're not speaking to me, so I'd appreciate somebody posting this on their walls for me...it's sincere, trust me.

To whom it may concern,

Hi, I'm AJ. I know you may be aware that that's my name already, but I felt the need to reintroduce myself because clearly you don't know me. You, who claim to fuck with me for my candid, only-flitered-as-much-as-the-law-requires observations, who read my Facebook notes ripping into just about everybody, who *liked* my ignant ass statuses and were only too happy to comment with glee when I shared my random street photos with you, finally showed your disapproval of my personality when you deleted me as a friend as a direct result of the Q and A post. It hurt (until I realized that besides one chick who I saw was gone when I didn't see every single thing that had occurred in her life on my page, I wasn't even sure who deleted me, only noticed that "friends" went from 116 to 111 in 3 hours after the post).

What we obviously have here is a failure to communicate...it's probably just a bad coverage zone. You should know that Facebook doesn't (or "shouldn't", rather...lot of fakes on the 'Book) change who you are, and also should have anticipated that the very reason you like me may one day lead to me saying something less than diplomatic about your online doings. However, I should have known that Facebook is srs, srs business. I now realize that I posted my opinion without you asking, and even though you read it without me asking, I was wrong for expressing myself in a way that didn't agree with you. I should have just tolerated it in an annoyed but silent manner like everyone who agreed with me. Sure, you could have just not read it if you had that big of a problem with it...but you shouldn't have to go through that...or not go through that...whatever, it was inexcusable.

I apologize from the bottom of my hard drive. I want to express sincere regret if I hurt anybody's punk ass feelings with my post about your retarded little monkeyshines. It's just not my place to randomly tell people what's on my mind unsolicited...that's your job. I was very inconsiderate when I posted something like that on your news feed. Nobody wants to hear that...they want to hear more about how wet you get or whether you would have had sex with them 15 years ago or why you are single. They want to see people ask you to rate them on a scale of 1-10 and wonder when y'all can finally date...you can't do that in real life or anything, so I understand. I just didn't even consider that one's right to be a exhibitionist/attention whore/regular whore/lovestruck sap/insecure little fuckface cretin on Facebook unchallenged was such a central theme in your lives. It's my fault, and I feel it's only right that I show my contrition here.

I'm sorry I ever wrote that note. I'm sorry I infringed upon your right to make sure people are paying attention to you at all times. I'm sorry I discouraged using Facebook as an online escort service. I'm sorry I pointed out that the questions weren't anonymous and so it was pointless to ask anything you wouldn't ask in the matrix unless you were a yellow-bellied baby back bitch. I'm very sorry that you take a Facebook status game more seriously than whatever relationship that I had with you. I'm sorry I made the mistake of suggesting that you were wrong for statusing something besides Nicki Minaj lyrics, a constant stream of bitching about your love life and "I'm bored"...while those are vital pieces of info that I was devastated that I couldn't get any of, I was selfish for being upset that you posted Q and A instead. I'm sorry that my opinion was just too strong this time...people want to be told what they want to hear, and I didn't even consider that before I posted. Most of all, I'm sorry I told you that if you don't like what I have to say, you can eat a sick dick on an artisan ciabatta roll.

Oh, wait...I didn't say that yet?

Oh...sorry (that I'm not sorry) about that anyway.





Hey, what's going on umf'ers? It's Wednesday yet again and that means it's time for another rousing round of the REAL Q and A, "Formsprung"! We have a pretty heavy mailbag today, so without too much further introbation, let's dive right in...

omg your posts are hysterical, how the hell do you only have 37 followers?
Wow, thanks! (Even though it's 38, thxmuch...grr...) Um...I'm not sure, maybe it's because I refuse to be that guy who skeets his url all over the internet at every available opportunity...I find that guy to be a lot like the guy standing in the middle of a city sidewalk handing out flyers as a trashcan 5 feet behind him slowly fills with them. I figure if I write it, they will come... (if you like me that much you could maybe make me a Facebook fan page :p)

PS- Along with the 38 registered umf"ers are many ghostreaders who just choose to float through here every so often without leaving a mark...like a certain Morgan Stater I just found out read this shit yesterday. (Hi Roni!) Official subscribers or not, I have a lot of love for anyone who wastes time 'round these parts...but feel free to bring friends :)

wuts up with this new q and a thing on facebook? they took ur formsprung thing, u should be mad!
Oh, I am... (Thanks for this question by the way, I saw it in the inbox Monday and it along with my natural urge to write Facebook wrongs inspired the post...yeah, I'm not supposed to look at these til Wednesday, but who are you gonna report me to, myself?)

Is that bottle of sugar vodka gone yet lol

Do you know how much you are crazy :), apps.facebook.com/crazypercentageapp/?
I do now...

Interesting...I'm gonna go ahead and delete that app now before it steals my credit card info or tells me I won some kind of lottery in Uzbekistan.

So where were those Cowboys the first 8 games?
*sigh* I couldn't tell you with a gun to my head. I just hope JG can have that version show up for the last 8 weeks...who knows, maybe with Garrett Top around there are brighter days (directly) ahead...

Rate your writing on a scale from 1-10.
um...okay, so if I say 10 I'll be too cocky, but If I say like 6 I'll be lying...I guess anywhere from a 7 on average to a 9 in full inspiration mode.

Why do guys keep their pants around their ankles when they have sex? Just once I wish a guy would take them all the way off...
Oh boy...I could get in trouble with the man union for telling you this, but the credibility of "Formsprung" through truthful answers is paramount here...

Okay, we keep our pants on-ish so we can make a quick exit if need be. It's mostly something done with chicks who we...uh...only have short term ambitions about. Damn, all your gentleman callers hit you with the "jumpoff half-mast"? Yeesh...you might wanna re-evaluate who you're dealing with...

Did you hear about that woman who sent naked pictures to herself to her son's friends on Facebook?

hahah yeah I saw it on the news last night. You can't tell me it's the first time that's happened nor will it be the last...in fact, I think it's going to be the new hot thing to be a milfr (mother I'd like to friend request lol) in twentyleven...it'll be like a "cougar" now...

Do you eat ass?
No, donkey meat is tough and doesn't go well on nachos...

Oh, you mean...eww...no. Hell no. Hellfuckinno.

How do you sleep? I picture you as a back sleeper, even though I know it's a little creepy that I picture you sleeping.
I sleep on my stomach, actually... and no, picturing me sleeping isn't creepy, it would be way creepier if you actually KNEW what I slept like and didn't even have to ask lol

How much of your posting come from reader suggestion?
A good amount...I take requests if I can do something with them...might not be the day after you told me, but expect to see something involving your idea at some point...

lololol you know I'm not letting you off without a picture of those jammies you mentioned, right?
hahaha that's fine...I feel dynamic, confident and a little sleepy in them anyway...you want me to send you one or post it? Either way, email me...

Where do you get time to write all this?!?!1
Anytime...but mostly at work (during breaks and lunch of course, being the diligent city employee I am...) and on rides from point A to point B...I get some of my best observations on the train...

If I requested you on FB would you accept me?
Sure why not...I'm open to friend requests from any of my readers...I do consider y'all friends. Besides, you can take the slot of one of the 5 "friends" that deleted me because of yesterday's post, which was also a Facebook note. (butthurt, hypersensitive little twerps...oh, did I say that out loud?)

You still call your mom mommy?
I damn sure do...wanna fight about it?

Dear Intellectual Chocolate: My penis is so big that it stretches, and sometimes rips, my woman's love glove. And my question is: does your mother read the nonsense you write? Sorry, about the penis thing. I just like to brag.
Um...jinkies...uh...good luck with that?

Anyfuckinway, no she does not. There are a couple posts about her, but hopefully she'll never even know umf exists....cant have my mommy thinking her little bearded angel is a pothead alcohobbyist foul-mouth degenerate internet humor guy...

Well, that was fun as usual umf...join me next week for more questionable activity fueled by you, the reader...or stalker...if you want to get in on this shit, hit the question box >over there> or if you want to be great today and go forward (to the actual inbox site):


Emergency PSA: Q and A-holes

What's good umf/FB nation...ima keep this relatively short because I need to keep your attention long enough to get my point across, but please believe I'm cutting no corners on my feelings about this. (Okay, I probably kinda lied about the short part, but you're at work/school right now so stop complaining and read.) This is an issue that needs to be addressed thoroughly, comprehensively, and most importantly, now (well, actually it should have been addressed last night but I was watching the game...fuckin sue me). Yes, I'm talking about this Q and A thing.

Right on the heels of the "why, wassup" virus (why do you have to remind people what you know about them? If you have to explain your friendship to a person you're friends with, you probably don't have a friendship to explain.) the Q and A phenomenon started about 3 days ago and spread like crack in the 80's with a lot of the same effects. At first it was kind of funny...I can't sit here and lie through my screen, I see the appeal of answering random questions...hell, I do it every week...but the Facebook version is getting out of pocket faster than Mike Vick, and they both must be stopped soon. Why am I bothered by this? Well, if you must ask:

A: Because the shit is sad. Really, some of y'all have to be fucking kidding me. "Why didn't we work out?", "Do you still think about me?", "how do you really feel about me"? I'm gonna throw up if I read one more sappy "i hope you miss me" query from a pining ex...this is not some stupid ass romantic comedy where you can win your old flame back with a timely wall post. Seriously, if you have to ask a question like that on Facebook, you have your answer already, ya jackwagon.

A: Because nobody needs to know that much about your sex life. I'm real serious...listen ever so carefully to what I say here. NOBODY needs to know what you do with your freak ass time but you and the person or people your doing the hokey poke me with. Some of the mental images I've seen in the last couple days I can never, ever un-see.

I don't care that your favorite position is the Mexican Springboard. I don't care that people tell you your love compartment tastes like Zebra Cakes. (You're lying anyway...you taste like skin like everyfuckinbody else.) I don't care that your craziest sexual experience involved strawberry jam, a muffler, and the entire Tuesday lineup at a back alley strip club. I'm not sure your family and friends care either. Shut all the fucks up.

A: Because there are better ways to get ass. I can literally think of no worse way than sending somebody a Facebook message that says "when you gonna let me suck that thang dry?", "when you gonna let me churn up inside you?" or "would you let me put my pussy on your sideburns?" Really, your best method of seriously trying to attract the opposite sex involves wordraping people you know online? You can go ahead and stop wondering why you haven't hit yet now...oh, and if that shit by some unholy miracle does work, what the fuck does that say about the person it worked on? Yeah, that's right...it says you may be having crabs for dinner.

A: Because it's killing my news feed. I'm not even gonna go in too much on that one...I covered that in a different post. But suffice it to say that I hate when even one person jams up my front page with constant irrelevant bullshit...so imagine how much I hate half my friendslist doing it? I'll tell you how much...right now I have 116 friends and counting (downwards) on Facebook...since half my friends are pissing me off instead of the 2 or 3 usuals (I keep them around for research when I write stuff like this) I hate it anywhere between 24 to 57 times as much. I hate it enough that I actually did math. That's serious shit...this has to stop.

A: Because the wrong questions are being asked. I could even maybe get down with this whole thing if it was about things besides unrequited love and one-way sexual attractions...but the thing is it's not. Some of these people should be the last to be asked about these things.

More appropriately, they should be asking questions like "Bitch, do you ever stay home and take care of your kids or do you just get your mail forwarded to the club?", "Are you really illiterate or do you just write that way?" or "Why do you update your status every 5 minutes? Do you have a life?" or "Why the fuck do you stay lying on here like everybody doesn't know you?" Just a suggestion.

A: Because it "gets people in trouble". The crazy part about this whole thing is that people, having willfully exposed intimate details about their life to everyone they know for no really good reason, will then turn around and say somebody "snitched" on them because the wrong answer caught the wrong eye. (Again, there's an entire post on that concept, check that out if you want to hear more.) Let me ask you something...if you're planning rob a bank, do you call ahead?

If you're selling bootlegs, do you go door-to-door and start at the police station? So why, if you have your gf/bf on your page, would you answer a question about wanting to fuck somebody else and then get mad when they find out through somebody else? YOU put that shit up there, genius! That's not being snitched on, that's stupidity...if you don't want anybody to know what you do, don't tell them...a-duh! Since these people can't figure that out for themselves, let's just dead the whole thing before somebody gets killed.

A: BECAUSE YOU FUCKING KNOW THESE PEOPLE! I mean, this is Facebook...you're supposed to know at least most of your friends unless you're famous...and you ain't. (Again, I ask, what real person who has 2,925 friends?) If you can't ask it in real life, what gives you the e-balls to ask it online? How do you inbox somebody who you actually know "What kind of girls/guys do you like?" I'll tell you what kind of girl/guy a lot of people like...the kind that can man or wo-man up and ask a question face to face (distance permitting).

It's not like it's anonymous or anything...it's directly from one person to another. If I asked a random female coworker "yo have you ever thought about smoking my pole?" online, she's going to have damn near the same reaction as if I slid up to her desk and did it...so why ask on the internet? Oh right...because you're a punk bitch and are afraid of the live 3D consequences. It's cool, I understand...many people are that way...oh, you're not? Then what the fuck else is the point?

I could seriously go on for about an hour with the tomfuckery I've seen for the past few days, but I think you get it. The Q and A game, while completely innocent and fun in the beginning, has been ruined by below average people (which if you think about it, is a little less than half the folk anybody knows) and the fact is Facebook just ain't ready for it. I'm sick of the shit, and somebody just had to say something...as usual, it's the guy whose words you're reading. This ends now. It's finito, kaput, over. By the juice vested in me by everybody reading this, I hereby declare this Q and A shit quashed and abated. You may now kiss my ass.

Any questions?

*brandishes mic defiantly*


All I Do is Win...

Well, this weekend anyway. You see, sometimes a situation can start off looking like a total failure, but end up being pretty sweet at the end. My weekend was emblematic of just that concept. Usually my response to "How was your weekend?" at work goes either "eh", "not bad", or something jokingly sarcastic like "over". ("I sat on my couch, got fucked up and watched the fuckin' Cowboys lose again", though accurate over the past 2 months, isn't a great elevator line. Last thing I need is to be asked to piss in a cup just from trying to make conversation.)

It's not like people at work really care anyway, folk just ask these questions to hear their own voices. You, on the other hand, didn't ask me shit...but I'm going to just tell you how mine went because it's my site and I'll do what I want. It started out kind of...well, suckish actually. I was off starting Wednesday at 4:30, but since I wasn't to be paid until Monday, I couldn't weekend properly. As y'all who know me may be aware, I enjoy certain extracurricular activities on weekends (well, all the time, but escpecially then). These party favors are not free, but due to the dumb ass payment schedule of my place of employ, I get paid twice a month. (Not every 2 weeks, twice a month. Big difference, trust me.)

That meant not only did I have to endure the strange cashflow limbo that plagues lower middle class Americans starting a couple days before payday, but do so on a long weekend. This added up to 4 days at home bored, broke and sober (or "purgatory" as the Catholics call it). The only bright spot in my weekend was to be a Saturday afternoon family dinner with my parents and sister/punching bag Amber for her birthday. (There was a post about her for her last birthday...it both explains some more about my beloved punching bag...uh, sibling and reminds me how long I've been doing this for...damn! Get well soon, Amber. I love you.)

However, before then, there was just Thursday and Friday. Acres and acres of raw, blank, plan-less, unsponsored leisure time. It stretched for what seemed like forever, but my supplies did not. Every packed bowl, every sip of adult beverage brought me closer to the end of my rations. (At one point, I actually tried to figure out how to make one shot last 48 hours until I just said fuck it and took it.) After the uneventful first half of my weekend, I rolled out of bed on Saturday, dipped into the last of my reserves, went to reach for my phone to check my overnight texts/notifications/emails from y'all (thx!) and...

...wait, what the fuck?

My phone didn't work! It wouldn't turn on, not even a little bit. If you know me at all, you know that my smartphone is a central part of my life...after all, I wrote a poem about it and a thesis on why it's one of the greatest inventions of mankind. It's my house phone/txter/computer/life assistance device/electronic Watson to my Sherlock Homeboy...to deprive me of it puts me at a serious handicap. Luckily, I had the replacement shipped to my mommy's house (she has a mailbox and I don't...last thing I need is some glass sucking piper to see a T-mobile box sitting on my front stairs and abscond with my newish phone to sell the shit for $12) and I would have it later...but "later" wasn't "now"...I still had to endure hours living without a smartphone like some kind of animal.

5 endless hours, 4 pumpfakes for my dead phone to write down this or that umf-worthy observation (yes, that's how I come up with this shit...see why my phone is so important? I don't even have a pen in the Treehouse lol), 3 out loud lamentations about the temporary loss of my digital sidekick, 2 quarters of college football, and a very last refill of my pipe with tree (last final last...I was fresh out after that...), it was time to go off to my mommy's house for Amber's birthday dinner at Famous Dave's. Since I had no idea of the transit schedule or any way to call and announce my imminent arrival, I had to fly out blind for my 20 minute journey. (Seriously, how do people without lifestyle devices do it?!) An hour later, I walked up the steps to the house and rung the doorbell...

To find nobody home. Since I hadn't talked to anybody since Friday night and I arrived after the time we had discussed leaving for dinner, I thought for a few minutes they had assumed I was hung over and went off to enjoy slightly-above-average chain restaurant barbeque without me. Then I remembered I still had my key for some reason and let myself in and used the house phone to call my mom and demand an explanation. She explained that she had taken my dad and Amber out to...well, I stopped listening for a while right then...but she mentioned that they would be back shortly and my newish device was on the dining room table. I cast the now unimportant house phone (Sorry mommy...) away and sprinted towards the table.

On the table, as promised, was my replacement Android helper...I eagerly collected it, configured it, and charged it. After that, I decided all that hard work had made me hungry and raided the fridge for old times sake...I found a sandwich marked "AJ". (It's like they knew I would come over with the munchies!) My winning streak had begun. I spent the rest of the time before my family came back reinstalling all the shit that makes my phone unmistakably mine...a process that anybody who has ever needed a new phone knows is a time consuming but necessary operation. (Can't win without some hard work though...)

Eventually my family came back. Apparently they had been to some kind of clothing store and my mommy had, for no apparent reason brought me some pajamas that look like a kung fu uniform and sleepwear had crossed paths. (See why I love her?) It was ideal for doing karate in my sleep...I liked them...another win for me. We left for Famous Dave's shortly thereafter. Somehow, my dad assumed we could just skip in there at 7 on a Saturday night and be whisked off to a table. As anyone who has worked at or even been to a restaurant knows, that's...somewhat inaccurate.

We were given some kind of light-up vibrator and told to go away until it went off about an hour from now. Initially, I was not in favor of waiting (I don't do well with patience...) but it was my sister's birthday, so I really didn't have much choice in the matter. My mommy was cold and went back to the car. My dad wanted to have a smoke. To kill time, my pop suggested that I take Amber into a nearby Target and let her walk around and look at shit or something. This was a decision that changed the course of the night in ways that no one could have predicted.

I walked into the store with my sis, and she ran a 9 route to the girls' department while I listlessly trailed along reuniting with my phone. Amber is a 19 year old girl, which means she has way more clothes than she needs (to the point where my old room is one of her closets now) and never misses an opportunity to get more. It wasn't long until she spotted something she wanted: a $20 jean jacket. She asked me to get it for her, but unless she wanted me to self-discount it, I couldn't help her. Then she asked me to go get one of our parents so she could badger one of them into buying it for her. I told her something I hoped she wouldn't repeat to our parents that amounted to "go get them yourself, little girl", like any responsible older brother would. She did. We turned around and went back to the car.

When we got back, Amber raved and gushed about how much she loved the item of clothing she had just seen 5 minutes ago and wouldn't wear more than once after she bought it. After some prodding, my mom agreed to go see it with her...key word being "see". There was nothing for me in Target, so I elected to stay outside and chat with dear old dad. (I like talking to my dad as an "adult"...I get to hear stories and parts of stories I didn't hear as a kid over and over and over. It's like getting a DVD of your parents' life with extended features and deleted scenes.)

A while later, mommy and Amber returned...but something was wrong. Instead of carrying a Target bag, Amber was carrying an armload of visible anger. She had a red Sho'nuff aura which glowed with rage. My mom on the other hand, accessorized with a weary, annoyed look. Amber got in the car with a slam of the door while my mom explained to the 2 lost men what had happened. My mommy, damn near pushed "Hoarders"-style into certain corners of the house by Amber's extensive wardrobe, had drawn the line in the sand at that particular jacket. Amber, predictably, did not take this well...she flew into a rage and stormed out of the store. It was at this point in the story that the come'ngetit buzzer went off, signaling that there was a table available. We made Amber aware of this...there was no response.

The buzzer continued to vibrate as my parents tried to coax her out of the car. No dice. They told her if we didn't go now, we would lose our place in line...she turned up her iPod. I suggested we leave and go eat without her. My parents were against it. I decided to give it a shot myself. I got in, shut the door, and asked her nicely to stop fuckin around and bring her ass on because I was hungry as shit. That didn't work either. 10 minutes passed and the thing stopped shaking. (I half-expected it to say "well, screw you guys then!" in a robotic voice) My mom realized there was no arguing with the little b...lessing...and simply returned the food pager to its owners. Dinner canceled. All was lost.

Or was it? No, not at all...see, now I was the good child! I could still extract win from this...it was just mine for the asking. As we pulled out of the parking lot on the way home, I commented that I was still hungry. My dad offered to stop at Burger King, and since my alternative was roman noodles at the crib, I accepted. I felt since I had been cheated out of dinner, I had the right to go crazy on the dollar menu. I did, and ended up with immediate dinner, a later munchie, and a midnight snack. Wins. A bit up the road, we made a surprise stop. Apparently, that evening's events took a heavy toll on my parents' psyche...they both needed a drink, so they sent me into the liqour store for a bottle of Seagram's (dad) and some wine (mommy).

These items cost $15 at best, but I was given $40 to go in with. I assumed this meant I could get something for my personal use. Win. I came out with the 3 bottles and tried to offer change, which was refused. That's right...I got to keep the change! I didn't ask for it, but I'll be damned if I wouldn't take it. All of a sudden, just like that, I had a new, working phone, $26, alcohol, a free meal...and new pajamas. It was about a months worth of wins in the span of 8 hours...and my team won too (for the 1st time in a month wtf), it made the whole weekend a decisive victory. So remember, umf'ers...the situation may look bad...but you never know when things might turn waaaaay around. (Again, I reference the Cowboys...lol...)


Random Thoughts 47- a Question of Writin' Wrong...

fittedwearer's note: please, please, PLEASE read this carefully before you comment...

So apparently the big shit in the news today is how up to a few hours ago, Amazon.com apparently stocked an e-book titled "A Pedophile's Guide to Love and Pleasure." I shouldn't have to tell you I personally don't dabble in kids (I just don't find them sexy), so I've never read the thing...but I assume it's written by a pretty sick, fucked up person. Whoever actually set pen to paper in an effort to advise boy-lovers everywhere to keep plently of popsicles in their basement or just dance in the street until small children are lured to his vehicle like that weirdo Six Flags guy needs some serious, serious help for whatever issues caused them to be privy to that kind of knowledge. That part can't be argued and I wouldn't wanna if I could, so I won't even attempt it.

However, that being typed, I do wonder about something. You see, in the instant news world of twentyten every halfway noteworthy event hits the public consciousness damn near before it happens, and the whole thing popped up as "Amazon sells copies of The Child-Hungry Cookbook", and somewhat understandably, a public outcry ensued. Folk questioned Amazon's motives amid a twitterstorm of criticism. Threats of boycotts were made, and Amazon issued a statement that more or less amounted to "Hey now, we don't fucks with all that...we're just the middleman...talk to Major Scumbag about it."

Predictably, that wasn't good enough for most folk. They continued to insinuate that Amazon was run by a bunch of trenchcoat-rocking playground watchers, and this of course led Amazon to yank the book from their servers. (I really wonder what's in the "people who bought this also bought..." column when people added it to their cart? Depending on what else you checkout with, you might and should end up on a watchlist...) This is good PR given the circumstances, but it brings me to my question: Where does a retailer draw the line with controversial products? How much is a seller responsible for the items it sells? How do you tell whether the buyer is a social worker doing research or some slimeball freak who gets the vapors watching Hannah Montana?

I'm not at all saying it's cool for the book to exist at all, it's a damn shame that this is topic enough to write a book about...but think about this. The book was written by some creep. There was a market for the book, and Amazon, being in the business of selling books, makes the books available to other creeps. True, it looks bad...but Amazon will happily sell you a copy of Hitler's "Mein Kampf" and I'd wager they employ a fair number of Jewish people and weren't a major supporter of the Holocaust. I'm sure if I asked nicely, Amazon would give me the opportunity to purchase all kinds of Klan books and have them sent right to my home...does that mean a rep from the site will deliver it wearing a pointed white hood and carrying a giant flaming clipboard for me to sign? (I won't take my chances either way...lol...)

The point is, although it's horrible that a Chicken Soup for the Pedo Soul book actually was written, it's not Amazon's fault that there are sick fucks out there who will buy it. (I wonder how the first person to see it even found it...who googles "how to be a better pedophile?!") Instead of getting pissed at Amazon, how about we get mad at the people who are buying it and giving it an audience? Let's be a little pissed at ourselves for indirectly promoting it...after all, I'm sure when it first came out only the author and a few of his fucked up friends knew it dropped...24 hours later the whole world is shouting about it and sales skyrocketed because every Pez-dispensing sicko on Earth knows that they have a holy book now...sales skyrocketed. (They say any press is good press...can't get any worse with a book like that...)

Most of all, let's realize that Amazon, like any other business, is gonna sell whatever crazy twisted bullshit that the customers want to buy...but doesn't necessarily stand behind any of it. There's no way in hell I would justify anyone hurting a child in any way and am perfectly in favor of anybody who does so dying a slow, painful, horrible and embarrassing public death...but honestly, you can't really fault Amazon for playing the supply-and-demand game. People wanted it, they made it available like any other book on the site. If they didn't want to sell it, the right thing to do was to never let it go up for sale in the first place instead of waiting until people had a problem with it to take a moral stand...but where do you draw the line? I wonder...
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Hey y'all! It's another awesome Wednesday (it's awesome because I'm off from work for the week at 4:30...kinda a Frednesday...) and that means another set of awesome questions and...adequate answers...ladies and gentlemen of umf, I give you...Formsprung!

wow did you see that rocket thing this morning over in cali? they said it was a plane takiing off what do you think?

Hell yeah I did! In case there's a umf'er that hasn't:

That shit was crazy...and the wildest part is they expect us to believe it was an airplane taking off. I've seen a lot of airplanes take off and not one left a vapor trail or disappeared into the atmosphere. They might as well have told me it was a kite...get that bullshit out of here...I for one, am fascinated by developments with this...and if it turns into something, you're damn right I'll throw in my 2 cents on it...well...another couple pennies I guess, since I just did...

(PS- I don't believe for a fucking second that they don't know what it is...if they really don't a lot of people need to be fired.)

If you had a choice of keeping the same tax system we have currently where taxes fluxuates or having the government taxe you 75%, but your housing, utilities, and healthcare are taken care of; which would you chose?
I'm good as is...25% of my paycheck doesn't leave me with much beer money...I like the freedom to decide whether to pay my bills the 15th or the 30th lol

When is the best time to have a drink?
anytime...what did you expect me to say lol

you should do more holiday posts!!! I loved your halloween story...why don't you???
I actually did...they're tagged
"holiday"...I just covered most of them last/this year and it's kind of hard to come up with 2 seperate perspectives on Columbus Day, for example...maybe I'll write all new ones next year :p

have u ever considered a sex change?
WHAT?! I love this thing, why the deuce would I want to get rid of it?!

How's your mayoral campaign going?
Good, good...politicking on Facebook and such, I have a few supporters now lol...

Why do you hate Jason Garrett? I understand you hating Grandpa Wade (great poem by the way heheheh) but why JG?
I don't...you must be talking about the last sentence of
that post...no, I was just pissed off at everything wearing a star after that retarditude on Sunday night...said a couple things I didn't mean. I like JG and truthfully, Wade didn't bother me too much before this year (although that face always gave me fits...he made it a lot more the last 9 weeks, too). I just hope Garrett can do a bit more with that team...can't do much less *sigh*

Where do you come up with these words lolol "
tranimorph"= gold!
haha I make them up, I guess...I
wrote a post about it a long time ago, but haven't updated it with new words in a while...hmm, maybe I'll do a sequel...

So you read a lot of CityPaper, huh?
lol sure do...that and Philadelphia Weekly. They're free, interesting, contain cuss words (like all newspapers should) and have funny shit like "Savage Love" (weird folk ask some guy about all their freak ass sexual dilemmas..."How do I get my wife to lick my neighbor's balls while I snoutfuck the family pet?") and "I love you, I hate you" (people write letters about people and things they...uh...love or hate). Nothing better than anonymous folk being all eccentric and shit...it's why I do this every week...

Don't you have tomorrow off? You said you wear your jumpsuit on off days, I want my superjunk pic damn it!

hahaha omg...I am off and I guess you can have it if you want it...damn this has been on your mind
for 2 weeks?!

What's your cell phone ringtone?
My call ringtone is the Fox NFL Sunday theme (aka my high school football fight song, since we were too cheap to hire somebody to compose one), my texts are announced with the same beeps the Power Rangers' communicators make, and every email arrives with the "Mission Briefing" sound effect from GoldenEye 007...actually that says a lot about me, but then,
your ringtone always does...

since you are smart, witty, and black, why don't people refer to you as intelexual chocolate?
oh wow...hahaha I spit all over my phone, thanks a lot...

Um, to answer the question...I don't know, but they should start...I'm seriously considering a t-shirt lol...

Welp, that was good times as usual...I gotta say you crazy fuckers give me something to look forward to every Wednesday, and for a day that I have to come to work, that's saying something. Aight, if you feel like lighting up my life next Wednesday, hit the blue question box >on the sidelines> or if you just appreciate a good hyperlink:

AJ aka "Intelexual Chocolate", signing out...lol...


It is what it is...

It's always interesting to see what bullshit our politically correct society will get outraged about next...it seems everyone is offended by everything (apparently they missed the GAP assembly in middle school). The latest percieved misstep in the minefield of publicly mandated uberpoliteness involves the bizarre case of a tranimorph who is accused of giving one of hizer johns more than he ever paid for. The exact details of what went on after the unfortunate customer brought his bisexual built for 2 into the last hotel room he ever bought, but authorities believe the flexisexual hooker chickdude robbed the man, tranhandled him, and strangled him to death before setting the room on fire and leaving. (What is that like to be that guy's wife and get that call? It's gotta put somewhat of a hitch in your day to find all that out at one time.)

Made up as that story may sound, I can promise you that I'm not that good or that bad a writer to come up with some off the wall bullshit like that. Crazy part is what happened that day isn't important. (Tough to feel sorry for dude, that's the chance you take when you call that number in the back of CityPaper trolling for mysterious rough-looking boypussy in seedy motels...sounds like the start of an episode of "Law and Order: SVU".) What happened after that is. You see, in a writeup about the event, they referred to the prostitute in question, 22-year old Herman Burton, as "he" and "a man" repeatedly, causing a bunch of people to rise up in anger at the shame of being identified by one's biology.

I honestly didn't know this (mostly because I never thought about it) but apparently it is disrespectful to call a man a man if he wants to be called a woman, even in the news. That's something I just don't get. Surgery doesn't make you a different sex...it just gives you the appearance of being so. You still have the corresponding chromosomes, still have the appropriate skeleton for your gender, still are what you are. I can see how amongst friends, in the workplace, or in any other forum where everything involving sex, religion, or politics is off limits because "I'm ok,you're ok, it's ok, we're all ok, ok?" that that type of thing would be frowned upon, but come on...this is the real world, and you're still a guy, sorry. You're not any more a female after a couple surgeries than I was a superhero last Friday because of my jumpsuit. (Or maybe I am! I'm a superhero born in a human's body...hey, if they can use it I can too...)

I know I'm going to get angry responses about me being intolerant and ignorant and all that good shit, but fuck it, I don't care. Let's even just ignore the fact that this person probably did this and therefore should be worthy of way less consideration than folk are championing (kind of hard for any witnesses to screw up that suspect ID, you know? "Oh, it was a manish 300lb hooker? Dammit that could be anyone! We're gonna need more details, ma'am.") This shit has gone too far. When did we all become so damn careful? I'm not suggesting that we go around hurling hate speech at each other, that's a good way to get beat the fuck up, I'm just saying there's a certain point where respectful becomes ridiculous.

It's just way too much to keep track of..."fat" becomes "big", "disabled" becomes "differently abled", a sugared up little rugrat has "ADHD", "black" becomes any number of things (for the record, whitefolk, we don't mind being called that. Sometimes we just make it seem like we do just to fuck with you. In reality, some made up bullshit like "Proud, upstanding American who just happens to have familial roots in Africa and/or the West Indies and may or may not like menthol cigarettes" pisses us off even more. "Black" is fine...I've heard worse.) and a dude with a few nips and tucks must be referred to as a woman.

I mean, what happened to calling a spade a spade? We have to call it a hoe now because it says it is? Fuck that. It's stupid, and when he or she or it goes to jail, it'll be males-only...which should tell you everyhing you need to know about how much being extra polite about shit changes anything when it comes right down to it. The fact is, the guy who died is just as dead no matter what rigged up confusion is between his attacker's thighs. People concentrate on the wrong shit...instead of decrying the paper that printed the story, how about getting outraged that we can't even trust the sex workers of our city any more? All jokes aside, tolerance is something we should all strive for...but there's a fine line between PC and BS...just sayin'.


The Wadeing Game

Now this is the tale of a man they call Wade
son of Bum Phillps (they should really switch names)
head coach of the Cowboys, or is so in name
for now, but perhaps he has seen his last game
how did this become so? Where did this begin?
As I recall, it was two thousand seven
when Big Bill Parcells quit, abdicated, resigned
(following That Game that still haunts #9)
Parcells had it locked, Jerry wanted the keys!
"I must find a decoy, so they can't blame me!
I run shit, but there have to be 500 coaches
who can look the part, my team's great by osmosis!"
Jerry wondered "Who will be the next coach in line?
I need me a bitch, Phillips will be fine..."
They sold us that Wade was a defensive genius
but he's JJ's hand puppet, any asshole could see this
some success post-Jimmy led Jerry astray
he thought he could continue succeeding that way
pulling the strings from the box, puppetmaster
(not seeing the rope's on the fans' throats...you bastard...)

All that aside, the season began
and for just a while, Wade P was the man
It started so well, we were 13-3
then lost to the Giants way down in Big D
First round of the playoffs, divisonally
"It was just a fluke, like David Tyree
We'll kick ass in the new year, we're better than this!"
The fans were fanatic, Wade...lost and listless...
"The better team lost today", a statement abhorred...
Yo, the better team won, dick...check the scoreboard!
(I still fume and cuss about that, it's so damning...
knocked out first game by Eli fucking Manning!
You say it, not I....."Super Bowl MVP!"
it doesn't compute...maybe that's just me...)
13 Pro Bowlers, none in February
there's no fan vote for Big Silver Trophies
we rationalized and dismissed it as luck
on the Giants part, we did not see we were fucked.

Not yet, however, there would still be much teasing
of our fanhood souls between then and Wade's leaving
Short term, sure...we could still scream "Cowboys rock!
we'll grab one next year, check us out on Hard Knocks!"
'08 started great, then the wheels fell off...
first the Chargers, then B-More...that fucking Pitt loss
and then came the nadir, (that means lowest shit ever
or so we thought then, before that we'd never
seen such a disgrace and thought it absurd
we'd lose that game in such a way to those Birds)
Wade was asked for comment after that debacle
said "Welp...we did a bit worse that we ought to...
we'll check out some film and see where we went wrong,
we'll get better next time..." Same old bullshit song.
Truth be told, he should had his fat ass canned right then
(but Crisco came first...copyright infringement...)
but Jerry believed, enabled, endorsed
Wade could right the ship, set it back on course
In hindsight, an error, an egregious sin
(looking back's 20/20, here in twentyten)
but before we get to that colossal decline
I must tell the tale of 2009)

My Boys came renewed and vivified
their spirit refreshed, demons exorcised
This was the year we let go of TO
Miles Austin appeared, as did Felix Jones
"Goddammit Tony!" switched with "Go, Romo, go!"
the defense literally filled with All-Pros
the stars seemed to align, the season went well
2009 heaven to 2008's hell
What should we as 'Boys fans have seen as the death knell?
Wade Phillips and his inept ways came as well.
My football team teased me with flashes of brilliance,
got lucky bounces and showed such resiliance,
broke the trend of losing after November
that's right...my Cowboys did shine that December
they rolled up the Redskins and shut out the Eagles
and stomped them again, they were so enfeebled
(I got joy out of that, and had quite a time
writing "1996"...some more shit that rhymes)
then came that day up in Minnesota
where 'Boys fans remembered that there is a quota
on disappointment we must have each year
3 hours later, it was as we feared...
34-3, and it could have been worse
our quarterback damn near went home in a hearse.
but whither our Wade? What did he have to say?
"Dagnabbit...we sure didn't play well today..."
Well no shit, Mr. Holmes, get that all by yourself?
My god you're intelligent...a brain trust, a wealth
of invaluable insight and insider knowledge...
you're a bright football mind, should run coaching college!

Coaching up youngsters one dumb face at a time
Your greatness is more than I'll fit in this rhyme!
(In case you're retarded, this is a classic
example of bitterness turning sarcastic)
An inspiring figure, a leader of men...
aaaaand that leads us to this year, twentyten.
I can scarce find the words, the raw intimation
to capture the scope of the humiliation
I've had to endure since the season began
or even add up all the empty beer cans,
the air-filled booze bottles, the lighters burned out
I created since the Cowboys season turned south.
They say one man makes not a team alone,
but it seems the team's heart broke with a certain neck bone
I'm a stauch fan, never been a hater,
but that's the common factor? The denominator?
who deserves the door first? Might not have a job later?
look no further than our super motivator!

that's right, our boy Wade! Mr. Phillps himself!
The pass rushing guru! The wizard of blitzing (with no safety help)
the man with the plan, secretary of defense!
a coach both of mind and body immense!
A man whose confusion confuses his team
a man who thinks benching bums is just mean
a man who never gets down, shook, or deterred
he just makes stupid faces, forgets mistakes occurred
"Everything's fine!" is a sentence oft-heard
(and each time he says it, I flip him the bird)
Single patent-holder of the EZ-Pass D!
I can't take this no more...somebody shoot me.
Please fire this man, he looks broken, defeated
his will to live dwindled, his resolve depleted
is it only his fault that the 'Boys play this way?
Hell no...but he's causing my hair to go gray.

I can't watch him make one more stupid ass face
throw one more dumb challenge at the wrong time and place
run that same damn blitz with the 2 worst linebackers
leave Ball out in coverage with a "Run By Me" placard
oversights underwhelming, understanding overstated
He along with his team vastly overrated
I only hope Jerry has mercy this day
and gives Wade a pink slip in public display
It might not change shit, but this here is fail
an unstoppable train wreck, a season derailed
well I've typed everything that I care to say...
besides "Yo, jerry...fire Wade TODAY!"

(and don't promote Garrett either...fuckin idiot...)


Swilla #11- Pinnacle Cotton Candy Vodka

What's good umf'ers? It's another Friday (that insists on dragging itself out...why is it even in a week that flies by, Friday is still longer than a recession-fueled unemployment line? It's like the other days just combined to form Monday and 8 hours on Friday is the next 5 days, Saturday and Sunday being the 7th day...wait, what?) and I know tonight many of you will be having a drink or two...damn many. Accordingly, this is the spot where I tell folk what's worth a shot (heh) and what was probably better as whatever organic material it was made from.

Anyway, in case you couldn't tell from the picture that accompanied Monday's post (or were too busy staring at my "superjunk" like at least one of you people hahaha) I won a bottle of this stuff for my heroic Halloween costume at a party last Friday. As soon as I got my prize, I took a look at the Pinnacle vodka and noticed that it was cotton candy flavored. Obviously I was less than enamored to receive an adult beverage clearly intended for those with less Y chromosomes than myself, but hell...it's alcohol...why waste it? (Besides, the choice of liquor made it that much more evident that the bottle was meant to be won by a chick, which made the upset victory that much more satisfying...)

I got it home and didn't touch it for a couple days. (Which is a minor miracle in and of itself.) The highly estrogenic nature of the drank made me hesitant to make it my first choice...or my second....or third. Then Sunday happened, and around 5pm that day I just about ran out of beer. Payday not being until next Monday and state stores closed even if I had had bottle money, I was still in pretty desperate need of some alcohol. That's when I spied my hero hooch on top of the fridge where I had almost forgotten about it. Funny thing about needing a drink...it's the same as needing sex, when your options are decreased, your standards tend to follow suit (and both can lead to buying something cheap that will make you sick in the morning). Ironically, it was at this low point that I finally reached the Pinnacle.

I cracked the bottle and was immediately punched in the nose by the sickeningly sweet scent of cotton candy. It was like instead of using potatoes or grapes or grains...whatever grows into vodka nowadays...they fermented cotton candy itself into alcohol. However, after watching some football game earlier, I was in no mood to be picky. I poured a shot and took it so fast I forgot to note what it tasted like. Ditto for number 2 10 seconds later.

It took 3 before I noticed that my entire mouth tasted like I had gotten orally intimate with a woman made entirely of cotton candy...and since cotton candy is sugar flavored, it was pretty much like pouring sugar into vodka and drinking it. The shit was so damn sugary I had to wash my mouth out with my last swig of Steel Reserve. (I'm a classy guy, right? Nothing mixes better than carnival food flavored booze and malt liquor. I'm waiting for Pinnacle Funnel Cake vodka so I can take down a 40 of King Cobra with it lol) Seriously, even as my buzz set in, I found myself wondering if it was intoxication or diabetic shock. All that typed, it did do what alcohol was supposed to do, namely getcha drunk.

Would I ever buy it with my own money? No. Do I ever plan on drinking another drop of the stuff once the bottle is empty? No. Would I recommend it to you? Well if you're desperate because your favorite sports team is having a monthlong suckfest or you have a pseudosexual attraction to cotton candy, then absolutely. (Only one of those applies to me, and I wish it were the other...at least then life would be sweeter overall.) Anybody else...not so much. There seems to be a new flavor of vodka every day, and the law of averages dictates that some are gonna miss...this, in my opinion, is one of them. Pinnacle needs to go back to the drawing board on this one. (Which, again, won't stop me from finishing it...hey, I wore a spandex jumpsuit for this shit, you damn right I'm gonna kill the bottle! Oh, and thanks again for the free drank, costume judging committee...not your fault I have a dick.) Hey, at least they have the Cherry Lemonade flavor... Happy Friday umf!