Coins Scattered Everywhere! (an ode to Payday)

We all hate our jobs, say you don't, you're a liar
but there's one day that always gets me inspired
that day when the compensation's aquired
for me working hard enough not to get fired
It's payday, it's payday! Now run my check bitches!
Been broke for a week, the recession is vicious
roman noodles and all other bachelor dishes
supplanted by actual groceries...delicious.


Inventions Nobody Fuckin' Asked For: the Kyocera Echo (and all future copycats)

Aight...so before I type any of what I have to type, let me preface by saying that I'm an avid user of mobile technology. Not only am I proudly addicted to my lifestyle device to the point of poetry (hell, this post you're reading is being typed on it), I've defended my near-constant use of it as beneficial to my life and dead-seriously hailed it as one of the greatest advances in modern times...you know, cuz it is. Don't even form an argument about it with me, odds are I have an app to win. In short, there's nothing inherently wrong with our cool future-type shit or responsibly using it for all it's worth.

However, with any concept comes a point of diminishing returns. No matter how great something may seem, too much is too fuckin' much...or I guess in this case, two fuckin' much. You see, last night while laying on my couch drinking myself to sleep, I saw a commercial for this thing, the Kyocera Echo. I seriously thought it was some kind of joke...sounds like some bullshit I would make up as a throwaway gag in one of these posts. Apparently, some geektard product designer somewhere decided that just one screen for all that we now do from the palms of our hands wasn't enough...no, the world needed a second screen!


Formsprung- Season 2

What it is, umf'ers...it's (a non-420) Wednesday once again, and that means it's time for our regularly scheduled "Formsprung"...those of you who waited 2 weeks for an answer, thanks! Aight, let's get right to this.

can I have a brownie?!
haha...depending on how serious you are, hit me up and we can work something out I guess...I also make cakes and shit, so if you have a party coming up...lol...


Wedding Plans: a letter to my future wife

fittedwearer's note: If you're wondering what brought this on, don't worry, I don't have any major life announcements of any kind and don't plan to for quite some time. It's just all this coverage of the royal wedding (not tracking it on purpose, it's just all over TV for no good reason. Why do I care again? I'm American, dammit...just a couple hundred years ago we had beef over this king and queen shit...now it's the lead story for a month leading up to it? Especially now when everyone's broke, who wants to see a glorious golden display of riches and opulence on some "let them eat cake" shit? I wonder if the Brits even care enough to justify this level of coverage...that's off topic tho...) got me thinking...so I'm gonna go ahead and cover my ass early with this letter. It'll be printed out and tucked into the bottom of the engagement ring box given to the lady in my life to be named later. This is for you, my future queen (but don't expect 5 horse-drawn carriages).


She Got Kids (but I dont!)

Okay, I have a confession to make. It might lose me some friends, might lose me some readers, and will definitely lose me a skirt or 2...but...hey, fuckit, you know? Ready? Here it is...I don't date chicks with kids. I don't. Well, to put it more accurately, it's a gigantic asterisk on whatever total package the woman in question presents...not a automatic deal-breaker, but she's starting the game down 10 points, to put it in football terms. (Kind of like that thing on a job application that asks if you have any felonies but is very careful to make clear they don't discriminate against those with records...for legal purposes. Realistically, most employers will line the birdcage of the company mascot with such applications.)


Bachelor Kitchen: Psychedelic Explosion Brownies

Tell me that doesn't look good, high or sober. What you see here is a marvel of culinary innovation previously unmatched by mortal humans, carefully crafted in observation of a beloved holiday. Okay, it's just a tray of fancy ass weed brownies, but I can pretty much guarantee these devil's food caramel filled brownies packed with M&Ms are some of the best weed brownies in their class. The secret, of course, is the cannabis-infused butter (if you insist, you can use regular square butter...they're pretty awesome as normal munchies too), which can be made quite easily:


What you will need:
a small pan
a large pan
a paid electric/gas bill
canna (finely ground)
butter (2 sticks for every quarter-ounce of marijuana you use)

Follow me closely, I know if you really want to make this stuff and have the means to, you're probably pretty high right now. It's cool, I'll keep this part short. Take the large pan, fill it a quarter of the way with water, and bring it to a boil (on the stove, genius). When it's boiling, take the butter, place it in the small pan, and place it in...yes, in...the large pan. This forms a crude double boiler, which you want to use to not have a bunch of burnt butter and weed on the bottom of a pan...it won't even get you high any more if that happens. (I know that's enough to scare you into following instructions.)

Once the butter melts, dump your finely ground herbs into the butter and stir. The melted butter will turn vaguely green...if that happens, you haven't fucked up yet. Keep the entire rig-up at a low boil for about one and a half episodes of "Cheaters", stirring occasionally. Eventually, all the butter will have turned green, and that's your signal that all the fat-soluble THC (if you don't know what that is, you don't need to be smoking) has been absorbed by the butter. Congratulations, you just made a batch of cannabutter!

Strain the now-useless herb out of the butter and pour it into a container. (You can't smoke it any more, don't try it!) It's butter, and can be used for all butter purposes...let your imagination run wild. We're using it to make these brownies today, so keep it handy...but if you want, you can keep it for up to 2 weeks in the fridge. Got it? Cool. Let's start this brownie recipe...

Psychedelic Explosion Brownies

What you will need:
1 (14 ounce) package individually wrapped caramels (and enough weed to make unwrapping the little fuckers tolerable)
2/3 cup evaporated milk
1 package chocolate cake mix
That butter we made (3/4 cup)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 packs of M&Ms (or whatever small candies you like...I picked preztel M&Ms, but any work...hell, throw marshmallows and mocha Pop Rocks in there for all I care)
more weed, of course

1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees (Fahrenheit, I'm American, get over it.) Since ingestion of cannabis has a longer onset period than combustion--stop looking at me like that! *sigh* Fine, since it takes longer to get high eating weed than smoking it (but it lasts way longer), feel free to bridge the gap and kill time waiting for the oven to heat up with a fine smokable.

2) Grease (or butter, or Pam, or...whatever...) one 9x13 inch baking dish. You know you don't feel like cleaning up or washing shit, so spend a dollar and buy an aluminum one.

3) Take your unwrapped caramels (if you can get them out of the arthritis claw you get from half an hour unwrapping caramels) and put them in a pot with half of your evaporated milk on very low heat, stirring occasionally until smooth...which takes a long ass time. Feel free to take a bong hit or 2.

4) In a bowl, combine everything but the caramel mixture. Mix well and spread about 1/2 of the batter into the prepared pan. This recipe does not contain eggs, so if you get the munchies you can snack on a couple spoonfuls of batter...but don't eat it all, then you won't have brownies...duh.

5) Bake for 5 minutes. Then go back into the kitchen and place the brownie batter into the preheated oven for 8.

6) Spoon the smooth caramel mixture over the top, and with a teaspoon drop the remaining 1/2 of the batter evenly over the caramel. As you can see, neatness does not count. Put your brownies back in for 20 minutes.

7) Roll up. Smoke out. Update your Facebook status. By then, 20 minutes should have passed. Take the brownies out of the oven and let cool for...as long as you can balance the equation between time without brownies and the risk of a burnt mouth. That's it, you're done! Celebrate with a victory cigar...split in half, spiced up, and repurposed, naturally.

There you have it, the Psychedelic Explosion. These things are...well, mind-blowing. Try not to eat them all in one day, and if you make the mistake of telling people on Facebook you made them, be sure to put an asterisk on any promises you may make to give them to people if you won't see them for a while...say, until Monday...lol... Happy baking, umf!


Formsprung Special Edition: "Ask a Stoner"

What's good with y'all this Wednesday? As those who have been here all week know, this here is a festive little edition of fan Q and A I'm calling "Ask a Stoner", where y'all asked me some occasion appropriate questions and I'm gonna do my best to answer. (If you're not sure why today is special, check out my video on the subject posted at 4:20 this morning when probably only those it was aimed at were up.) Hope y'all can hear me from all the way u there...let's go!

what are the munchies like?
Kind of like an endless waterfall of snacks down one's throat...you feel yourself eating, yet you don't get full...plus you get the most amazing ideas for food...are you gonna tell me loaded baked potatoes were invented by a sober person?

You're a fucking druggie arent you?
haha all that though? I should certainly say not...didn't you peep the vid?

how many blunts would I have to smoke to get hooked on nicotine?
Wow...I have no idea...although I'd have to say "at least one more than I have", since I went through a quadrillion of 'em the first few years of my career...then I discovered the bong. It changed my life...and I still barely smoke cigs. So...yeah, about 3.5 fuckloads.

Any weed rules you forgot?
Let's see...oh, there's fellating the blunt...you know that wet ass end when somebody hasn't developed lip moisture control for shared smoking vehicles. Come on man, nobody likes that guy either. Also, there's the matter of asking for seconds on a free smokeout...wouldn't you be upset if somebody asked for a dollar in the street then asked for aother once you gave it to him? It's just not good form...gotta wait for the hospitality, y'all...

What happens when someone breaks the rules?
They won't be invited to future events...same way it works in every other social circle.

What's the craziest place you ever smoked?
Hmm...actually, I dont make a habit out of smoking in weird and risky places, that's how folk like me end up with silver bracelets...but I do remember the day after the Phillies won the '08 World Series there was all kinds of smoke being passed around freely right outside City Hall, there was a fun night of social networking with me, 2 friends, and about 8 other future friends in the common area of a major Maryland-area university...oh, and there was that weed march down South St. as the cops just stood by and fanned smoke out of their faces...I still treasure that memory haha

how much weed do you smoke in a week?
Depending on my funds for it (ain't like the shit grows on trees...legally -_-) around a quarter...I'm actually not that heavy a volume smoker, I just seem to be high all the time lol

Does weed really make you more creative?
I don't know about that as a blanket statement for everyone, but I can honestly say personally, it helps...I've always been a goofball since I was a kid, but I think it can take whatever's already in there and kinda unlock it...hey, works for me.

When's the last time you went a whole day without smoking?
According to this post about that unfortunate experience, July 19th 2010. You know what, thinking about it, I guess about 16% of that's why I do this umf stuff...make sure I recall details of my own life lol...

That totally blew my mind maaaaan...hahaha lemme stop. Just wann thank everybody for the green questions for this week...I know some of y'all asked non-cannabis questions, I got and appreciate those too,, they'll be answered and posted on next week's chunk of umf fanimadversion (although weed-related questions are welcome any Wednesday of the year lol)...so if you want yours answered too, hit the question box >over there>, or if you cant stand clicking the one thing that's still blue this week:

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

Happy 4/20, umf!

Just say no!

Living above the influence of "Above the Influence"...tell your children!
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5


Puff, Puff, Give- A Field Guide to Smoker Decorum

People like me, with certain recreational habits are said to be part of the cannabis subculture. It is, by necessity, a somewhat tightlly knit group, bound together by the rejection of polite society. In every culture and subculture, there is an understood code of conduct, a decorum, which must be adhered to in order to maintain good standing within one's circle...and smoking circles are no different. A smoking circle, also known as a "session", a "rotation", a "potluck", a "cypher" and a "smokeout", among countless regional variants, is the scene for a communal cannabis ingestion.

Ideally, it should involve a small group of friendly people gathering together with pooled materials and a common goal...blazing. Within this group, as long as the proper decorum is followed, there are good times to be had by all involved. However, it has become increasingly apparent to me that this ettiquette is either poorly understood, undefined, unheard of by many those it governs. Other than the titular rule, which even nonsmokers are familiar with, I see many cardinal rules of cypher conduct wontonly flouted on a daily basis. On the eve of what I believe is the biggest international smokers' holiday, I feel it's unacceptable for things to remain this way. For that reason, I bring you "Puff, Puff, Give: a Field Guide to Smoker Decorum."

I- Puff, Puff, Give
There's a reason this one is first...it's one of the most fundamental rules in all of smokerdom. It refers to the number of pulls permitted on a rolled smokable before one must pass the cannabis conduit to his right (or to his left on the other side of the equator). Failure to follow this rule is referred to as "Hoovering", is regarded as an egregious faux pas, and can result in ejection from the circle or even permanent blackballing from all circles. An interesting note here is that the purchaser of the weed may take as many consecutive puffs as he desires if he also owns the medium used to ingest it, however, this clause is rarely invoked due to it being seen as anti-social and kind of a dick move.

II- Passing Motions

One of the most underfollowed rules of smokerdom involves the making of clear passing motions. You see, an inherent effect of heavy cannabis use like the kind common in smoking circles is temporarily decreased motor skills (or more likely, the temporarily decreased inclination to use them). This leads to, among other laziness, weak passing motions. These often go unnoticed by the recipient, and can leave a smokable in limbo between smokers for as long as 2 minutes, wasting valuable weed in the process. Therefore, all passing motions should be clear in intent to the point of being demonstrative if necessary, and also be accompanied by a verbal alert to minimize wasted smoke. Passes should go without incident, but in some areas, in the event one or the other drops the conduit, he forfeits one turn with it.

III- Smoke OR Talk
Never both. Narration and postulation while high are very involved processes which involve intense cerebration and mental resources as well as the use of one's mouth. This, in most cases, leaves a smokable hanging in the balance, evaporating into thin air as the holder of it pontificates on something important, like the best flavor of Doritos. While it may be pertinent, someone else could be smoking while the speaker is speaking...so they should. Esteemed weed philosopher Smokey from Friday summed it up thusly: "Either be smoking, or be passing."

IV- Ash before you Pass
Every smoker who has smoked over zero times has dropped ash on his or her clothing. We've all seen that long clump of what I imagine snow looks like in hell precariously dangling off the end of a lit item, waiting to fall on something. It somehow stains any color fabric, and can even contain embers that can burn cloth or skin. Ash is a natural byproduct of combustion, and smoking a blunt falls into that category...ash is there, and there's nothing you can do about it...well, besides keep it in an ashtray. Ashtrays, properly used, minimize the risk of ash-related difficulties inherent to blazing...as such, they should be utilized at every available opportunity. A good way to remember this important step in the smoking process is to ash the smokable before you pass it to someone else.

V- Match Up
Whenever possible, one should bring a fair share of weed with them to any smokeout. This weed should be both of adequate amount and potency that no party involved should experience a decline in their quality of smoking based on the fact that they decided to invite someone else. It is understood in the smoker community that it may not always be attainable due to it's murky legal status and wildly varying potency, however an effort should always be made to do so. If you absolutely cannot obtain any, but have the funds to do so if you could, a small donation to your friend is seen as classy.

VI- Bring Something
As said before, it's not the end of the world if you can't find anything to match up with. If it indeed becomes impossible to show up with your share of the good stuff, there are other materials required during the course of a session that you may be able to provide. Examples of these include dutches, papers, wraps (referred to collectively as "wrapping papers"), pipe screens for those who use bowls, bongs and the like, food for the munchies, cigarettes for those who use them to accentuate their high, or even just decent conversation. Showing up empty handed every time is a great way not to be invited to show up any more.

VII- Repay all Free Smokeouts
Commonly, smokers encounter situations when they do not have weed and a friend does. This may even go on for an extended period. In close company, this is usually seen as immaterial, but is always met with the expectation that the favor will be returned if the roles are reversed. It is seen as grave disrespect to smoke up a friend's stash, yet be nowhere to be found when you get yours. It is the responsiblity of the repayer to notify the repayee of his ability to repay as his earliest convenience. Failure to follow this guideline will result in you burning bridges instead of bud. Seriously, don't be that guy.

Well, that's about all I got...hopefully, after reading this guide, the people that have use for this information will not only put it to good use, but spread it for the benefit of the cannabis subculture as a whole. Now, if you'll excuse me...I've gotta go do some more research...for umf, I'm AJ. Thank you and good flight...


Green Week! (a umf event)

fittedwearer's note: Okay, confession...this whole thing was mostly inspired by me cheating and looking at "Formsprung" early...that's where I found the question one of y'all asked me anonymously, which read "What's so great about pot"? I was just going to give some smart ass answer like "if you like my writing at all, you know already" or something...but then I realized due to the timing, I could take this and run with it! So, in lieu of a regular "Formsprung" answer, I bring you this...thanks for that, whoever you are (and feel free to ask a replacement question lol).

If you spend a lot of time here, or even just happened to visit on 2 different days, you know we cover a l o t of ground around here...a quick selection of recent topics include stalkers, deceitful padding for the female body, an instructional guide to cheating in a relationship (for entertainment purposes only, to be used at your own risk), almost every word I ever made up, and a contract that legally removes the power of a significant other to bother a sports fan during the game, so it's kind of random around here...well, to the untrained eye. Anybody that reads the things I write knows the common thread that would probably have to be present for a person to sit and ponder these kinds of things on their free time while using their work time to say the smartest things he knows in the silliest way possible...lots and lots of marijuana.

It's true...if you've ever laughed at an especially nonsensical joke of mine or considered one of my highly unorthodox contentions on the nature of life, you just appreciated the effects of THC on my body and mind in action. It's no big secret...I do talk about it from time to time...you can find my whole legalization e-thesis, a post (and YouTube video kindacameo) about a support march I went to for the cause, and other weed related items of interest scattered here somewhere. However, I don't as much as I'd like because I always thought...y'know...who wants to hear some stoner write about how great being stoned is?

They want to hear about relationship problems and race relations and quantum Facebook theory and other important shit...that was until I got the question I mentioned earlier and thought "oh, whoever that is does". Combined with the fact that I'm off (and therefore have a lot of time for relevant research) for the week starting Wednesday, aka the biggest counterculture holiday of the year...well, it was just the perfect storm...so for that reason, I hereby announce Green Week here at umf!

Yup, that's right, this week only, it's all tree, all the time. I know you're probably used to all kinds of grand intellectualish urban-spiced observations about life, love, and all that good shit, and I also realize this week's topic may not be for everyone...and if that's the case, I'll see ya next week with fresh ones on both counts, no hard feelings (although you really should mellow out some). However, this week...if you're under here with me, screw it, we're getting lifted. If you don't like secondhand smoke, you should consider leaving the room...but those who can get something out of it, you should really like it. I have a few things up my sleeve this week (ironic enough for you that the one set of posts for a week I'm planning in advance is in honor of a substance that's supposed to affect your planning skills and thought process?):

Tuesday: The Field Guide to Social Smoking...are you the friend that always gets cut out of the sessions? Do you wonder why more and more, you get invited to peace pipe parties when they're either winding down or over? New to the lifestyle and don't know the ins and outs of inhaling and exhaling for fun and leisure? Not sure whether your smoker ettiquette needs work? Are you a 4/20 tourist smoker and want to make sure you don't commit some fucked up faux pas? This is the post for you.

Wednesday: In place of our standard "Formsprung", we'll have a one-week thing called "Ask a Stoner", where you...well, if you can't figure that out, I'm not sure I'm the high one. This is the place to get every question you've ever had about marijuana and the use thereof answered to the best of the ability of some guy who's likely high as a kite at the time. (All other regular "Formsprung" questions will be answered next week.)

Thursday: A special episode of "Bachelor Kitchen", where you know we're cooking up with cannabis. What's the recipe? Click in Thursday and find out...duh...

Friday...I won't have no job (to go to that day) and I won't have shit to do! Ima get me high that day...lol... Seriously, I'm probably taking Friday off...so then is a good time to apply all you will have learned by then. ("You, Me, and Friday" will probably still drop, although I will say if it does, the 7 Standout Statuses/Camera Phone Ninja of the week will get bonuses for keeping with this week's theme...wink wink...)

...and there you have it, the plan for this week. Of course, there's a couple surprises in store...but what fun would it be if I told you now? Aight, that's about all the announcing I came to do. (Oh, and thanks again, anonymous question asker...that's what happens when you drop seeds in a fertile mind...expecially weed seeds.) Hope y'all enjoy Green Week!


Random Thoughts 50- 2 Sides to Every Status?

I, like most other cool people in the future, have a Facebook account. (I don't have one for #theothersite, but I guess I'm talking about that one too...so Twits, feel free to translate what I'm saying into birdspeech or whatever...even though what's in these parentheses is more than 140 characters, which is a lot of the reason I don't even try it. Wait, where was I?) As a result, I see a lot of what goes on in people's day-to-day lives...what they're doing, who they're doing it with, why they're doing it, what happened when they did it, how it made them feel, that kind of thing...and they see mine. Now, depending on what species of Facebooker they are, there's probably nothing wrong with that...but what I do wonder is...what's on the other side of that status? They say there are 2 sides to every story, and I assume 420-letter miniseries installments are no different.

Think about this with me for a second. Just the other day, I saw someone's status that said something like "This dude on the bus is a weirdo, he kept looking at me like he knew me...he started to speak and I told his ass not to waste his breath or his time! #pow #shutdown #flyshit #blahblah" I couldn't help but to find myself wondering if somewhere else in Philly, some guy was writing a status right now to the effect of "I don't know what's going on with stuck up bitches nowadays...I thought I knew this girl from high school and was gonna say something but she snapped on me before I said word one...I'm convinced man, something really wrong with these hoes..." I always wish I could see stuff like that.

How about those e-breakups? It's a serious breach of Facebook Ettiquette as well as real-life actual breakup ettiquette, but they happen every day. For every "SO DONE WITH THIS CHICK, SHE CRAZY AS SHIT, ASK TOO MANY DAMN QUESTIONS, IT'S JUST NOT WORTH IT, HAVE A GREAT LIFE BITCH!!!" there has to be a "I just can't deal with a guy that can't be honest all the time...how had it is to answer a simple question? I'm tired of little boys, I need a real man!" (I've personally seen a"Me and my girlfriend broke up."/"Me and my boyfriend broke up?!" combo kind of thing...I know it happens in some form.) I think if I'm going to be subjected to relationship troubles constantly, the least I deserve is enough background on it to be entertained...hell, that's why I watch "Cheaters".

I mean, every so often the stars align and one person I'm friends with will post something and a mutual friend will decide they love or (usually) hate things like that being posted and create their own status vaguely aimed at the person and I'll be like..."oh, that's where that came from...heh." What I want to see though is some real cause and effect shit...some "smh dropped my ice cream right after I bought it, fuck my life lol" with a side of "Can you believe this dumbass at the ice cream stand dropped their ice cream on my new kicks? Fuck your life!" or maybe some "I can't BELIEVE I left my new phone at the bar last night...$350 wasted, damn...hit me on here if you need me" accompainied by "Found a new Blackberry in the bar last night...finders keepers! #comeup" I think it would be entertaining to see.

Sometimes, I even think about my own Facebookings...when I decide to let off at my chosen target of the day, do people make statuses wishing people like me would shut the fuck up and sit down somewhere? Obviously, not that anything would change because of it, just curious. When I take pictures of random street weirdos for all my friends to see...somewhere, is one of my victims online "wondering if that big guy with the hat with the suppressed smirk on his face really was sending a text message underground or if he was actually taking a picture of my oddball ass for all his friends to see"? Hell...have I ever been a victim of my own Camera Phone Ninja style? Not bloody likely, (I take special steps to ensure there is no probable cause for that...) but I always wonder...


Over "the Line": An Interview with a Stalking Victim

*fittedwearer's note; Here at umf, we...wait, I (gotta stop doing that lol) ...take pride in having viewpoints on a variety of subjects. Among them is the subject of romantic interest, namely the appropriate amount to show to someone without scaring the living fuck out of them. I shared my theories on the subject in a post titled "Are they that into YOU?: The Thin Line Between Creepy and Cute", and while they were pretty funny, that's all they were...theories.

I felt my evaluation of this apparently understudied facet of boy/girl bullshit would be lacking, if not wholly irrelevant, without some real-life anecdotal evidence...to that end, I managed to convince an actual stalking victim who is also a reader of mine (codename: SuperLawyer, for her privacy's sake) to sit and have a few words with umf, to see if her experiences would lend my theories credence as well as emphasize to the reader just how thin that line can be from a female perspective. I present this interview to you as "Over the Line: Interview with a Stalking Victim.

umf: Hey, *******, thanks for taking a few minutes out of your day for me and my research.

SuperLawyer: No problem. *smiles*

umf: Aight, let's get to this...without giving any potential stalkers any ammo, can you tell us a little about yourself?

SL: Yeah sure...I'm a fabulous single white female in her early 30s who lives in Philly.

umf: That's good enough. So you're a reader of umf, right?

SL: Yup, sure am...been reading for a while now.

umf: Did you see the post on the thin line between cuteness and creepiness?

SL: Yeah, I remember the discussion we had that led to it. *smirks*

umf: Yeah, that was you. In your opinion, was there any truth to the post?

SL: Oh yeah...

umf: Let's go through some of the things we went over in it then...what was the worst pickup line you've ever heard?

SL: Hmm...I don't get a lot of lines.

umf: Come on, you know guys try talking that stupid shit to you...your self-description was true.

SL: I guess I don't remember a lot of them...oh yeah, recently this guy kind of sidles up behind me, looks at my butt and goes *puts on raspy creep voice* "Nice jeans..."


SL: It was his way of telling me I had a nice ass, I guess.

umf: Yeah, true but...nice jeans, though? That's it? That's...yeah.

SL: Yeah, that was it...not too original.

umf: Maybe he was saying nice genes...as in you have superior genetics and are a great candidate to bear healthy and attractive kids.

SL: *scoffs, rolls eyes* Right...this guy was no scientist.

umf: Yeah, fair enough, that was a stretch...okay, moving on, what was your worst first date?

SL: Oh, one time I met this guy at a local bar...I could feel him kind of just lurking around me working up the nerve to come talk to me...

(See? SEE?! It's the first thing I said in the damn post! That short range recon/focus energy period is not cute...who wants to be openly leered at from across a room? At least use your peripherals. Oh wait, I was in the middle of an interview here...)

SL: ...so eventually he comes over, kinda talks me into going on a date with him, I figure whatever.

umf: So what happened?

SL: I met him for lunch after that and pretty much knew within 5 minutes I never wanted to see him again. It was painfully, painfully obvious. I had set up a rescue call with a friend in case the date was a disaster, which it was, but guess what...the friend never calls!

(There's an app for that now people...I won't say the name of it because some people reading this may be using it against others who are, and I don't want to accidentally blow up anybody's spot. It's out there. Google it. Continuing with interview...)

umf: *laughs* Oh, hell no...

SL: Yup...but the date was just so horrible that I HAD to get out of there. I just picked up my phone which clearly didn't ring, had a short fake phone conversation, and excused myself...he knew it was bullshit and everything, but I didn't even care at that point, I just had to get out of there...it was soooo awkward.

umf: hahaha I bet...wow...okay, on to another part of the post, tokens and gifts. What's the weirdest token you've ever received?

SL: Well, there was this one guy...he was driving me home and all of a sudden pulled over. Then he gets out and goes to the trunk. I'm wondering what this guy is doing, then he comes back with a gun. He showed it to me, talked about it a little, then put it back. We get going again for a few blocks, then he pulls over again, but this time he doesn't get out. I stare out the window for a little while wondering just what the hell this weirdo is up to, but then I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I look up and the creep is masturbating!

umf: *cocks eyebrow* ...oh wow.

SL: Right? Needless to say, that was the end of me knowing him...what a weirdo.

umf: Yeah, sounds like it...not sure how he thought that was a cute gesture, but..damn...I don't even know what to say to that. Crazy shit. I guess some people are truly creepy. Slightly lighter note, in another part of the post I talked about things men do that we think are cute gestures and women don't. Is there anything that men commonly do that fits that description?

SL: Yeah...that whole indecisive thing you guys do when we ask what you want to do. "Whatever you want to do" isn't a cute answer...I mean, I want a man's man...take charge, make a decision, jeez!

umf: This is a bit off topic, but why not...see, we do that because we actually don't care what we do when we go out with y'all. We're not interested in what happens during the date, we're interested in what goes on after. Besides, the few times we do pick something, y'all call it "stupid" or cop a tude...so we've learned to just roll with whatever makes you ladies happy. Who cares whether we see the action flick or the rom-com? I just want to know if there's a movie being made later...

SL: Really?

umf: Yeah...that might be why most date movies are only an hour+ long, so we can get the fuck outta there.

SL: I could see that...but the point is, you guys need to man up. You think all a woman wants is to make the decisions, but step up sometimes, damn! Men are such pussies nowadays.

umf: By and large, yeah...but that's y'all fault! *laughs*

SL: Yeah, the movement may have backfired a little on us... *smirks*

umf: *pssh* ('Nother post, 'nother time lol) Anything else?

SL: Yeah, hard fuckin. Just blatantly hard piledriving. It's uncalled for.

umf: Really? We always see it in movies and shit, you can't really blame us.

SL: Yeah...that's the problem. Guys, that does not feel good.

umf: You know what, I could see how being struck with a blunt object at a high velocity again and again and again for an extended period would be...uncomfortable.

SL: Uh, yeah. Last time that happened, I sent the guy a text afterwards saying "Why do you want to hurt me?" That shit has to stop.

umf: *has a near-death laughter experience* Whoo...okay, I'll make sure to tell everybody. (Be told, everybody.) So, have you actually been stalked?

SL: Oh, a few times! There was this one guy...we had a one-night stand or whatever, but then he just wouldn't leave me alone!

umf: Wouldn't leave you alone?

SL: Yeah! He's showing up to my house, ringing my doorbell, calling, texting...finally I had to scream at him like "Dude, quit...we fucked, it was bad, whatever, go away!" He left me alone after that.

Yup, that's a stalker...

SL: I just got rid of one! I met him briefly at some party. He was calling my job, leaving odd messages with my colleagues...mind you, I never actually gave him my number, I'm not sure how he got it.


SL: Uh, yeah! Eventually I just had to send him a nice email clearly and calmly indicating my disinterest in contacting him in any way.

umf: Yeah, that's pretty clear...so what would you consider your worst?

SL: Oh...I definitely remember that. It was like a year and a half ago, I was out late and it was snowing, almost a foot. I met this amazing guy, he was funny and confident and sexy...really the total package. I actually liked him for a while...he even took a long walk home with me in the snow.

umf: Damn...so what happened?

SL: After a couple weeks of talking things got weird. He would call and text at these impossibly weird hours, like 2 or 3am...and then they'd be these long, angry, ranting texts like "You think you're so pretty but you're not! You're such a blahblahblah"...but then he would text again a couple minutes later like "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that"...but then he'd do it again the next night!

Yeah, that's normal.

SL: Oh, that's nothing...I never saw any of his friends, but he would also always hang out in this bar. He said his friend was the DJ there and that's why he was always there. That was cool or whatever, but I found out later during a conversation with the DJ when his name came up that the guy was batshit crazy and would follow him around from club to club too. He didn't know the guy at all.

Wow...so his one "friend"/character witness was another stalking victim?! Jeez...what happened after that?

SL: At that point I'd had enough, but not him. He would call yelling about how i'd broken promises to him and i'd be all like "I don't fuckin know you!" Finally it got so bad that I had to talk to one of my legal associates to see about an expedited warrant for his arrest. He calmed down after that.

: I'm mad it took him all that to get the hint...

SL: Yeah, that's how it goes sometimes.

umf: You can really pick 'em, *******. So, one last question...how thin is the line between cute and creepy, and is it the catchworthiness that makes someone not creepy or the noncreepiness that makes someone catchworthy?

SL: Very thin, and it's the catchworthiness...if I'm into you, you'll have a lot more leeway for that kind of thing than if I'm not, in which case everything you do is gonna be creepy.

So if your dream guy shows up at your crib at 3am with a boombox over his head...

SL: I...don't know about all that. *laughs* There is a limit.

umf: That makes sense. Aight, that's about all the type we have for today, any final thoughts?

SL: Make sure and underline "Men are pussies".

Gotcha. Well, I wanna thank you first for reading umf, and also for your time, insight, and courage as it relates to this matter. Hopefully we all learned something today.

SL: Oh, anytime.

umf: Cool...well, I got more work to pretend to do...later!


Formsprung- Season 2

*fittedwearer's note: If you were on the fanpage this morning, you heard me talk about...well, some dummy on Facebook...but also a semi-special announcement, and here it is. From now on, every Wednesday (aka question day around here) I'm gonna see how YOU like being asked questions...that's right, it's "Formsprung Strikes Back", and it's only on the umf fanpage! First question goes up right after I post this, join team umf-Facebook division today to tell me what you think! Aight, on to what you clicked that link for...

It's Wednesday again, and that means it's time for "Formsprung"! Without too much extra introbation, here are your questions for this week! (Thanks again, y'all!)

tupac back?
lol "back"? He never died...I saw dude selling B.I.G. t-shirts under the El the other week, he said he hates that song.

are you sure you don't know who asks these?
Nope, no idea unless you give yourself away by asking something only you would ask me...that's half the fun!

have u ever been stalked?
Hmm...as far as "follow me home, call my house and hang up at 2am for a month, watching me smoke in the shower every morning" stalking, not that I know of... but I have had a picture of me stolen at work by a girl "named" Patrice and came close to being stalked by some chick named Purple (her introduction!) last summer...but no real stalking. I consider myself lucky, I guess.

My sister (19) loves 'em, but I can't say I've heard much for myself...must be what the kids are bumpin lol

I'm still waitn on u to send me a plane ticket so I can come visit u...what's takin u sooo long?
You want me to send you a plane ticket? You don't watch the news, do you? Planes ripping apart like aluminum foil midair, crashing into each other on runways and shit...I'm looking out for your safety! Damn, ungrateful...

I clicked a link out of boredome and it brought me here. I don't regret it, but one question; what kind of blog would you say this is?
First of all, I wouldn't say the word...you said...I hate that word. Second, welcome to umf! To be honest, I don't know what the hell this is...it's more a simulation of knowing me than any hard genre, it's whatever's going through my mind on a given day (hence the name). Glad you don't regret it tho :)

What's there to do in minnesota?
lol...you could always purify yourself in the waters of Lake Minnetonka...

What does it mean if a guy says: "if I told u I loved u u wudnt believe me, ud wanna see prove" (duh) "Its like I be sittn back thinkin I think I love this girl"??
Um...I'd tell you if I understood the question, I don't think I speak that...I do want to answer though, maybe you should give it another shot next week.

you expect females to sign that contract?!
Oh my, yes...I certainly do...

So if you ask your wife to sign that sports contract, and she won't, you gonna divorce her?
"Wife"? If you read closely, I never said the word "wife" once in that post...a smart man has that signed as soon as the word "girlfriend" gets bandied about...that way if she DOES refuse, you know she's not marriage material.

If you could have dinner with 5 people, all living, none of whom you were trying to sleep with, who would it be, and why?
Ooh...good one. Well, let's see here...first, since I'm not trying to sleep with any of them, we can skip dinner and do more of a house party/chill session thing, red plastic cups and all. With that little amendment (and in no particular order):

1) Michael Irvin (+1)
Reason: Do I really need to explain this? Hell, I wrote a post on the guy for Black History Month last year! I suggest his +1 be Jimmy Johnson so I can pick his brain about the glory days, ask him if he thinks Tony Romo will ever win one, and...yeah, ask him to say "How bout them Cowboys!" just once.

2) Hugh Hefner (+ as many bitches as he wants)
Reason: With the godfather of modern porn around, you can bet it wouldn't be a sausage fest.

3) Snoop Dogg (+ 1)
Reason: He's always seemed like a cool guy to me...plus, I know he knows where the stickiest of the icky is.

4) Dave Chappelle (+1)

Reason: Beacuse you said "living" and Bernie Mac is dead...Chappelle will do.

5) Nicki Minaj (+none)

Reason: So I can bust a bottle of boysenberry syrup all over the back of that preposterous bitch's head during the afterparty @ IHOP!

Special Guest Bartender: Stone Cold Steve Austin

Reason: He was my hero for many of my childhood years and could help me work on my Stunner technique...plus I know he'd bring plenty of beer for everybody. Aww hell yeah!

hahaha thanks for making my Wednesdays entertaining...hope I do the same for y'all. Well, that's about all we have time for this week, but if you wanna throw something in for next week, it's easy...just hit the blue question box >over there> or if you wanna go direct to the source:

Oh, and look out for MY weekly question on the fanpage! Later umf'ers!


"Search Me..." V

The internet is a strange place...anybody who's ever run a Google search can testify to the fact that you don't always find what you're looking for...and sometimes, that's best. You see, folk are willing to type some crazy, nonsensical, and otherwise off-brand shit into their search bars in their quest for information...luckily, through the magic of cookies and other e-magic, it gets recorded for future hilarity. (I wonder what it's like for all the people whose actual job it is to review search terms and results to improve search engine performance and shit...it's probably one of the funniest jobs in the world.) umf, with it's...uh...eclectic...subject matter...attracts plenty of wild-ass searches for some reason...this is where I share 'em with y'all. As before, I'll include the Information Quotient, which is my kinda obnoxious way of guessing how likely it is on a scale from 1-100 that the searcher left umf fully infotained.

"I am diabetic and drank pinnacle cotton candy vodka" (and 23 variants)- Led to my review of the spirit in the search term, which I only ever had in my possession as a prize from a Halloween costume contest...hey, I wore kelly green spandex, I earned it!
IQ: 73 Hopefully, they learned that that syrupy bullshit is sweeter than sugar fried Pixy Stix and that ingestion by a diabetic counts as a legitimate suicide attempt with most life insurance providers.

screw you wendys for raising the price of your 99 cent chickn- damn right! I remember writing this post...I'm even still keeping up with my boycott of the chain in protest. Keep hope alive, fellow broke person...
IQ: 93
We're not gonna take it!

cheap shit inventions (and 3 variants)- Led to my series of perfectly justified rants on popular but unnecessary items, aptly named "Inventions Nobody Fuckin' Asked For". Good to see one good cuss word deserves another.
IQ: 88 Plenty of cheap shit inventions to riff on around here...you came to the right place, random foulmoused Googler...

college dropout blogspot (4x)- Took the searchers to my post about the pain, the suffering, the mind-bending...indifference...of being a college dropout. I guess my failed college career had one benefit...a pretty popular post.
IQ: 91 Fuck it, who needs college?

sound cool on Facebook (14x)- People just refuse to stop with this shit...I say time and time again, if you have to ask how to sound cool online, you're probably pretty uncool both on and off.
IQ: 15 Maybe if I keep saying it...

umf broadcast- Apparently somebody wanted to see me play my blue guitar...
IQ: 100 Anything for anonymous strangers!

philly's finest porno- umm...I have posts about "Philly's Finest", but those are all about bad bacon boys...with all their clothes on. We don't do cop cock here at umf.
IQ: 0 Again, we don't protect or serve that here...

ways to tell you in the hood- the closest reason I can think of for this to lead here is the first part of "The Black Xperience" series, where I kind of painted a picture of an urban environment...I guess it could double as "ways to tell you in the hood" though.
IQ: 74 You can tell you in the hood when nobody asks questions like that...I never knew people were so curious about how the other half lives...

what's it like to be black? (8x)- the entire purpose of TBX was to answer that question...glad people are still getting use out of it.
IQ: 107 See?

formsprung (3x)- Wow...the weekly umf question and answer segment has really taken a life of its own...
IQ: 96 The one and only place to get it...probably. Accept no imitations! Oh, and:

"about to break up with me?" (19x)- and they said writing a field guide to breaking up was a bad idea...
IQ: 89 You know what they say...if you have to ask Google...

cold fuck- I have no idea what this led to, but it definitely sounds like one of my colorful adjective-profanity pairs. If they like that kind of language, they'll like it here.
IQ: 67 They probably left here with some made up oath to take with 'em, fuckdammit!

neon white human weave- This search was either run by someone looking to identify a common hoodrat crest or an actual hoodrat looking for an online purveyor of oddly-colored false coiffures. I can't decide.
IQ: 50 Flip a coin...

what is probationary acceptance? (and 5 variants)- It's the fine art of screening potential friends on social networks. For more on the concept, see here.
IQ: 95 You've got questions, I've got answers.

timethief bitch- One of my readers (hey TT!) goes by the first part of that search term in the e-streets, but I gotta say the second part is untrue, at least in my experience.
IQ: ? I can only hope the searcher was able to read her eloquent comments on my stuff and see the invalid server 403 proxy error of their ways.

boy who body slammed his bully "bullying fail" peaks! (and 2 variants)- Led the searchers to my suggestions for the prevention of bullying (it involves self-offense) and likely the speech I made to a San Diego area junior high school (in my head and here).
IQ: 76 If nothing else, they got to see the video they were looking for...

be grateful you have a damn job (and 4 variants)- this person was looking for my "Tips to Surviving Work" post...I know that because this search term is tip #5, verbatim.
IQ: 97 I still have to read that post for myself sometimes to remind me to practice what I preach...

crab fries (5x)- With the advent of baseball season, this local ballpark favorite is becoming popular again...glad I wrote that review forever ago, I guess...
IQ: 68 The biggest thing they probably learned is that the things contain NO crab...which didn't stop me from eating a whole basket last time.

status shuffle wack- Why, yes...
IQ: 99 Yes, it is.

undermyfitted + philadelphia (and 30+ variants)- not only are people trying to find umf on purpose nowadays, (that's thanks to y'all!) they even know where I live for now...that's a good thing...I think.
IQ: n/a Sounds like they know plenty already...

Well, I hope you enjoyed this little look at what exits on the Information Superhighway will somehow let you out at umf. I don't know how anything I wrote got mixed up with half this shit, but hey...at least I'm impacting the internet... Until next time, remember...be careful what you search for, you just might find it...or worse, find me...lol


Love in the Club?

I was doing some light Ghostbooking over the weekend when I noticed a lot of people talking in their statuses about their club exploits. Now, that's not really anything spectacular, if you read my Guide to Facebook Species, you know that certain kinds of people claim to spend a lot of time in those places (enough to push the boundaries of feasibility in some cases...where do some of these people get the time and money to spend every waking moonlit hour in some place with a one-word name buying $17 drinks?) but one in particular stood out to me. I won't name any names, since the reliability of my Facebook Studies depends on the ability to observe and report folks' online tomfuckery without alerting them in any way, but it was something to the effect of "I can't find a man waa waa waa, maybe I'll have better luck at the club tonight!"

It was something I almost "Status Whoa'd" (it's a umf fanpage thing...) until I gave it a few seconds of thought and realized a lot of people don't even know what's wrong with that statement. Some folk are staring at their monitors confused, waiting for me to deliver the punchline. I'll end the suspense. There ain't one. I just figure I'll let y'all in on a little something: there's no love in the club. By now, half of you are really wondering where I'm going with this, a little over a third just stopped reading, half can't wait to read the next sentence, a quarter of y'all know this already, and the rest see I'm pretty bad at math...but if there's anything (besides me) that just doesn't add up, it's the theory that one can find a serious partner in that kind of a situation.

Now, before I type any of this, I want everybody to know I'm perfectly aware that many people go there just to have a good time with no plans for the experience beyond that night. I just think it's a little overrated to start with. The club experience's sizzle, what it's usually sold as, is an exotic locale that's just full of attractive people just waiting for you to come make a connection. The steak is usually more like a very familiar bar with a dance floor (ever notice that the same people seem to be in the club every week? After a while, it's like a weekly family reunion except with paid admission.) that's just full of people tucked, trimmed and tailored to resemble attractive people just waiting for you to come buy them a drink and get the fuck out of their face...all for the low, low cost of $25 plus drinks. Oh well, at least ladies are free before 11 (you know, when nobody's there yet) so there will eventually be a large variety of women to get shot down by.

All that being said, that's what it's more or less for...it's a meatingplace (no typo) for young singles (or people who want to pretend to be young singles even though they may lack the adjective, the noun, or both to have that phrase describe them) to mingle up and...well, I don't have to explain all that, we're all grown here...and for that purpose, it can be very effective. However, if you're looking for anything but that there, you're definitely in the wrong department. Let's take the average club scene, for example. You have a line of people outside of a buliding probably designed to hold half that many people guarded by a large, heavyset gentleman whose job is to decide at a glance whether you're attractive or influential (read: rich) enough to be granted entry.

Actually, swap out the bouncer for a member of whatever sex you're interested in, and you have a pretty good simulation of getting to know anybody you'll meet inside there. You see, between the loud music, dim lights, constant bumping from surrounding clubgoers (and heaven forbid, stepping on of footwear), and generally frenetic atmosphere, there's no chance to find out anything about anybody besides a general idea of they look like, how much they look like they make, and whether they're drunk enough to fuck you that night...not really the stuff from which lasting bonds are built, I gotta say.

Oh, wait...what's that? You say you can get around that by being in the VIP? *chuckles* Ah yes, the VIP...where a preset (but always exorbitant) reservation fee gains you a table, the ability to order bottles of liquor priced 50 to 100 times retail value to show the kind of lifestyle double shifts at Borders can afford you, all the inherent importance a red velvet rope can bring to your life and the company of folk who probably wouldn't look in your direction if you were on the other side of said rope. All the best kinds of people sit there...and they're usually pretty personable towards their own kind. Maybe you're right and you can find something special in the VIP...I just hope they make a cream for it.

In all seriousness, think about all the times you (or "a friend") came home with some random guy from the club who you really liked who never called again after he left. You know why he never called again? You're just some random girl from the club who "totally let him hit, dude!" Think about every cute couples' meeting story you've ever heard...does even one take place in a club? (I've heard couples make up origin stories to avoid the fact that they met in the club.) Consider the fact that the freaks do, indeed, come out at night...so maybe you want to look for a good guy in the daytime. As far as a hookup point, a social net for social butterflies, or a place to unwind after a long week at work, I can see where they have their merits...but if you're looking for anything beyond a casual relationship, I can promise you: there's no love in the club.


Formsprung- Season 2

What it is, umf? It's Wednesday again, and that means it's time to answer all the anonymous questions thrown at me by my readers...it's a little something I refer to as "Formsprung" and I get a kick out of it...maybe you will too, check it out:

why you change the color?
Just felt like time, I switch it up every few months...plus people kept complaining about it being too dark in here...what, you fucks not with it?

had no idea you were only 23...i def. thought you were 24-25
Really? Is it the beard? hahaha...nope, I'm only 23 as of about 2 weeks ago...it about averages out, anybody that knows me knows I can act anywhere from mid-teens to late 20s when I want...but yeah, I'm somewhat of a youngin...

Why don't you learn to play that guitar? You look kinda sexy with it.
heh...thankyaverymuch haha...wait, fuck you mean "learn to play"?! You ain't hear the first like 6 notes of "Happy Birthday" I played in my vid?!

Okay I'll stop, I know I suck...

I was gonna learn the guitar...but then I got high...oooooooh...lol seriously, I intend to...

Can I steal all these words? HOLLAGRAM THOU!!!! *dies*
lol yes, yes you can...each and every word in both editions of "High Definitions" is now part of the public lexicon as far as I care...steal away! Hell, I wanna see how far some of them get...I'll feel like a success the first time I hear one of my words in a conversation I'm not involved in haha

Wiz Khalifa Curren$Y YAY or NAY?
Not really my thing, I didn't get on the bandwagon with everybody else, but I've heard worse...haven't heard the album yet, I'll reserve judgement for when I've heard more...so to answer your question, may...

Video games Yay Or Nay?
Oh, yay...I'm not a hardcore, 16 hour a day "Black Ops" specialist but I enjoy a good game...I'm into fighters of all kinds, racing games, shooters, sports...and I'll kick your ass in Super Smash Bros (show me your moves!)...lol...

1st time trying alcohol what should i drink?
hmm...first EVER? And you're asking me...damn, I feel honored...um, I started out with a simple screwdriver (vodka+oj) and we've been pretty close ever since...I think that's a good place to start. If you're a guy, you should develop a taste for beer too...nobody wants to be THAT GUY with an umbrella in his passion pink, 9 ingredient, $18 drink on a night out with the homies...

This cheating post seems very personal. Do you give away your own secrets in your posts?
lol...it's no secret that if you all of a sudden change the whole way you act towards a person you've known for a while, they're gonna think something's up...the rest is theories and jokes...

You seem to be a cheating expert.
Not personally...I actually don't have much firsthand experience, all the info in the "Guide to Cheating" came from 3rd party trial and error (aka the opposite of other folks' fuckups), common sense, movies...and great reverse-engineered intel from many, many episodes of "Cheaters".

Listen to Drake I get Lonely Too.
Um...aight, I'll put it on my to-do list as long as he promises not to sing...you do know that's not a question though, right?

What browser do you use?
Standard Android browser on my smartphone, where I do most of my internetting, Google Chrome at work, where I do the rest of it...

So where do heels fall on your female deception chart?

Nowhere...heels aren't deceptive, everybody can see you have a solid spike of whatever heels are made of jutting out of your heel, and therefore they are not part of your design. That's different...in fact, I praised the wearing of heels in a different letter. All that padded bullshit is another story...nobody knows you don't (or do) have certain stuff until it's too late...FUCKthat.

Are you anywhere near this funny in real life?
Hmm...I don't know, actually. I've never been able to tell a courtesy laugh and a real one apart, so I'm not sure if I'm "funny guy in the office" funny or legit funny...I do make a lot of jokes in real life and umf is a pretty damn good approximation of knowing me, so...possibly...I do intend to find out though...

what's a treehouse?
It's where I live...my nickname for my apartment (because of its elevated 2nd story location and...other reasons...) If you're curious about where a person like me would live, I kinda did a "Cribs" post a while back so everybody can see how I'm livin'...lol...

I can't stop thinking about my ex! =(
Damn...yeah, I think we've all been there...every song reminds you of them, all the things you did together play in your head, and you just plain old wonder what they're doing right now...it fuckin' sucks. A real connection is a tough thing to break, and I wish I had some magical little thing to say to help you out with what you're going through...a bunch of intoxication (the kinds found in booze, bud, and babes) helped me, but honestly nothing's gonna cure you but time.

It also helps to remember things you didn't like about the person (the "good riddance" approach) so at least you don't build them up as some shining golden angel in your head and make it worse. Eventually, sooner than you think, you'll realize that living without them has become the habit that living with them was, and it wont be so bad...

Are black dudes really well-endowed in the shorts area, or is that just propoganda?
Yeah, we do tend to wear bigger shorts...just look at the NBA pre- and post- Jordan, those dudes in the 70s and 80s wore team color bikini bottoms...even now I see white guys balling in little ass shorts, what's good with that?

heh...lemme stop, I think I know what you meant...

Um...since I've only seen about 3 in my whole life that aren't attached to me (and even then only quickly and by accident...used to play football, lot of nekkid dudes in a locker room...) I gotta tell you I'm no expert on dick of any color. Perhaps that's a question better posed to a female or a less-straight guy.

If you're asking about me, I'm no porn star with half a baseball bat, but I haven't gotten any bad reviews lately...I'd say medium-well...lol...

That was...interesting...just another Wednesday around here I guess. Thanks for all the questions (even that one, somehow)! That's about all we have time for this week, but if you want your question to appear here next week, it's way simpler than cheating...just hit the blue question box >thataway> or if you really don't like the umf paintjob and need something else to look at:


Are they that into YOU? (the Thin Line Between Cute and Creepy)

Showing somebody you're interested can be a tricky thing. After all, there are so many different kinds of people in the world that no matter what you've seen in some chick flick, one technique can't possibly work on everybody. What some people call "sweet", other people call "stalking", and it's very easy to err on either side. Show too much interest, and you're setting yourself up for the withdrawal of the object of your affections...show too little and the person you're checking for will bounce anyway. Either way, it's easy to fuck up. The whole thing is pretty subjective, but I think we can all agree on some basics:

Random Pickup Attempt- It all starts here...
Too Little: Just kind of standing in the general area of a person you find attractive, hoping that they will randomly decide to find you intriguing enough to strike up a relationship. Unless the person is telepathic, they'll never have any idea you ever liked them...and if they are telepathic, they'll be able to sense you standing there thinking creepy thoughts and not like you anyway.

Too Much: Walking up to a complete stranger and saying some nonsensical bullshit you wouldn't even say in the mirror with a straight face before proceeding to get offended that the person wants no more words with you...or worse, following them around trying to make your case way after the verdict has been handed down...which is a lot like trying to wash spilled spaghetti sauce out of a shirt by rubbing it with charcoal. Take it down a notch.

Meet and Greet- Advertise yourself!
Too Little- Mumbling your name and about 3 one-syllable answers before silently lamenting the person's lack of conversation skills. I know you're nervous, but it seems unresponsive and cold.

Too Much: Never shutting the fuck up. Starting every sentence with the same letter. Going on and on and on about your life, job, posessions and aspirations while showing little or no interest in those of the person you're trying to get to know...or more accurately, trying to get to know you (likely against their will now). There's being open and then there's being a huge, gaping asshole...this paints you as the latter.

With the Digits-
That is, if you don't text like everybody else here in the future...
Too Little: Calling once a week later, not getting an answer, assuming all hope is lost, deleting the number so you don't recognize it (and thus do not answer it if you're smart) and never speaking to them again.

Too Much: Calling somebody's phone 3 times the same day, leaving progressively more...intense...messages each time, calling somebody at work multiple times, leaving messages with their co-workers, calling AT ALL when you didn't receive the number from the person and there was no clear indication that they wanted you to have it (eg- looking at discarded documents or intentionally picking a distant, clueless friend of theirs to hit up for the number). Seriously, put the cell phone down and take a step back before they make it so the law mandates that you take at least 500 steps back.

Office Crush- Hey, it happens sometimes...
Too Little: The same "hi" and "bye" you give everyone else you are civil towards or showing up at their desk with fresh Post-Its from the supply closet every once in a while...you hopeless romantic, you...

Too Much: Constantly calling them a sweet little nickname over the loudspeaker after they've asked you to stop (even with a smile it still means stop), showing up at their desk when they're eating lunch and trying to carry on a one-sided conversation just because you know they won't be moving for the next 30 minutes, sending a bouquet of flowers to the desk next to you, pressing extra buttons when you're on the elevator together so you can spend a few more seconds with them, cutting paperwork into paper heart chains, stealing a picture of them off their desk, and fabricating obviously nonexistent job duties that take you past their desk 10 times a day. If your job was to make whoever you like feel uncomfortable, you would deserve a raise, a promotion, and stock options for what you're doing.

First Date- Got this far, eh?
Too Little: Showing up 15 minutes late in an attempt to appear cool and make your date swoon with how your utter awesomeness and busy contributions to society arent subject to the confines of a schedule. It works at parties, but in a one-on-one setting like a lunch date, your date's time is valuable and every minute you don't show up is one that he/she is sitting wherever you chose to meet looking at the door every 30 seconds like they're casing the joint.

Too Much: Showing up half an hour early in a tux with a dozen roses and arranging all the sugar packets into your names in a heart. Your date will see this and likely about-face because they thinks you will eventually kill and skin them...and if they don't run and you weren't planning to, you better get YOUR ass out of there before it happens to you.

Cute Gestures- Just to let 'em know you care...
Too Little: People like to say they appreciate the "little things", and there's a lot of room for context, interpretation, and intent, so for the sake of argument we'll say no direct and authentic gesture is too small (but use your common sense, a coupon for 50 cents off a 20-piece nugget at McDonalds probably won't get you laid very often).

Too Much: Most disproportionately expensive items (we all know what's expensive, it's the shit we don't have a lot of because we're broke) will likely 1) scare them a tiny bit and 2) make them feel like you're trying to buy them...or worse, 3) get them to see you as an ATM. Shrines of any kind and material makeup are strongly discouraged.

Rekindling- So, you fucked up, huh?
Too Little: Just waiting for the person to get over it with no acknowlegement that you fucked up just because "they should" or "if they really liked you they would" or "it was in the past" or...you know, whatever bullshit takes your mind off the fact that you have an unresolved fuckup between you...but odds are, if it was that serious it won't happen, so get over yourself and apologize, prick.

Too Much: Showing up at their home uninvited, at their job unannounced, at places they frequent with no warning (that includes "just happening" to be in the supermarket/post office/DMV at exactly 2:50 PM on Tuesdays), at a mutual friend's house without anyone's knowledge, in a public place with an egregious display of unrequited love, or anywhere at all with a boombox blasting "your song" into the streets. It might work in the movies, but in real life all that shit is highly irritating and/or embarrassing...figure something else out, loverboy...

There's a razor thin line between cute and creepy, and hopefully we all have a little better understanding of just how easy it is to step over that line (and get yourself cut off) in either direction. You may be really into somebody, but often the only difference between cute and creepy is...are they that into you?


Trapped in the Tunnel (or why alcohol can make a 15 minute train ride that takes an hour seem like 5 minutes)

What it is, umf'ers? How was your weekend? (*"Dora the Explorer"-like pause for audience input*) I liked that part too! Mine was pretty uneventful, actually...sat around, watched some Roku-vision, got intoxicated, had some light sexual activity, Facebooked a bit, and unfortunately managed to buy what looked like a piece of original parchment paper used to practice writing the Constitution (what, you think they got it perfect the first time in pen?) disguised as a vanilla blunt wrap from a local corner store which crumbled into sand upon being unwrapped, almost ruining my wake and bake and setting into motion a far-reaching chain of events that could have put the entire space-time continuum in jeopardy...maybe...but more or less, I did nothing of much real interest. Mostly, I chilled in the Treehouse...but what was kind of interesting was my ride home Friday.

After a Friday afternoon of pre-weekend party punch that one of my co-workers was kind enough to provide, I felt kind of nice as I left my job. The combination of the moderate-to-high strength workbuzz I had from the one-and-a-half-times-emptied bottle of "Vitamin Water" (a great choice of bottle for disguising a good time...the shit comes in eleventeen different colors and flavors, so nobody gets to ask why that bottle of Sprite has orange juice and its best friend in it) and the imminent weekend made things just dandy. I strolled happily to the train station at 15th Street and waited for my train to freedom, located about 45 blocks, 15 minutes and 6 stops away. As the train pulled off from 34th Street and sped through the tunnel towards 40th, I found myself planning out my weekend (I described the outline earlier...all went according to plan, my weekend was uneventful by design) and savoring the fact that I would be waist-deep in chill about 7 minutes from then...and that's when the train stopped midway between stations.

For the first 5 minutes, I chalked it up to a regular, everyday SEPTA problem...a train directly in front of your train, signal difficulties, severe and sudden budget cuts leading to the electricity on all city vehicles only being used 45 minutes per hour, a 9-foot mutant rat with horns and a scorpion tail...but after 10 more, I became so unnerved I forgot I had a drink in my hand, and that's when my mind started to wander:

"Why me?"

"Really, on Friday though?"

"How long have we been sitting here?"

"I wonder what's going on?"

"Maybe this is happening for a reason...if a nuke were to go off in Philly right now, I and the rest of these people would survive..."

"That means we'd have to repopulate the city, right?"

"If I had to pick a girl on here to repopulate Philly with, who would it be?"

"Hmm...the pretty ratio on public transporation seems far lower than normal...are all the cute ones getting rides?"

"I'm on here too though...am I not that attractive either?"

"Well, I'm not the worst looking guy on the train...that guy over there is pretty rough, but he's a bum."

"Why me on a Friday?"

"Didn't I already think that?"

"Wait, is that bum coming over here?"

He was, and did. He smelled like a wino, and that reminded me I had a drink in my hand. I sipped it, and that ended the part of this post where I talk to myself. As he shuffled past, he mumbled something about spraying the Chinese...or some shit. (If you're gonna ask for spare change from a stranger, one would think you would at least enunciate when you do so.) I didn't have any and told him so. He asked some nearby folk and they told him the same. Dissatisfied, the hobo dragged himself to a different train car, leaving the riders he harassed to exchange confused looks.

Eventually we all ran out of awkward faces to make. 20 agonizing minutes had passed since the train stopped, and forcing random people to be together for unplanned lengths of time does a funny thing...it makes them talk to each other. An older lady turned to me and mentioned her hate of panhandling for no real reason. Some guy contributed that the bum didn't deserve money because he was probably an addict looking to raise an extra few dollars so he could shoot heroin into the tip of his dick or something.

I don't know what made them pick me to talk to...but before long, I was the drink-sipping center of attention in the middle of an apperently enteratining bit about why bums pick the places with the brokest people to beg at and why the bum in question had wasted 2 dollars he could have eaten with to get on the train. 2 minutes ago, I didn't even know these people. Now, encouraged by a captive audience and fueled by liquid fun, somehow I was a sit-down comedian. I can't lie, it felt good...but as quickly as it had began, it ended.

About 2 minutes into my impromptu roast of SEPTA vagabonds, the train began to move. Only a few minutes ago, I had wanted nothing more than to get the fuck off this train and go home...now I was sad to see it move. With the bum gone and my audience's time just about up, my performance had lost all its magic for me. Not wanting to end up like Charlie Sheen (it's one thing to get booed off stage in Detroit, quite another to get booed off a moving train in Philly), I finished the joke I was on, accepted the lulz, and ended my turn. After that, another strange thing happened...after a few more amused glances in my direction and spastic chuckles at repeated lines, we went right back to not knowing each other. A couple minutes later, I stepped onto the platform at 60th and began my 2 block walk home (and it seems like a couple more minutes later, I showed up back here at work on Monday). That day, I learned that the best can be made of any situation...with alcohol...lol...


Lyin' Lady Lumps: A letter to the otherside

Dear womenfolk,

I want y'all to know that I, as a 22...uh, 23 year old fully heterosexual male, that I love the female body. Love it. The softly molded curves and scallops of females have been discussed and celebrated by pretty much everybody with a dick and the ability to read and write, and I don't really have (or care to come up with) any new flowery euphemisms for titties and such, so I'll keep the horny ass prose to a minimum. In short, in its best forms, it's a perfectly balanced and almost infeffably (almost...I can eff 'em just fine if they like :p ) beautiful work of art that has never since been equaled by man.

Of course, in its common form, it's somewhat less...ideal...but plenty appreciated nonetheless in most cases. However, I just have to say something that's been bothering me for the longest, and I feel there is no better day than April Fool's to bring this up: ladies, the lies have got to stop and they've got to stop soon. You know the ones I'm talking about...the ones you can wear. Wonderbras that give a woman with the body of a 7th grade boy cleavage up to her neck, panties with pads in the butt to turn a longback into a fullback, space-age spandex polymer bodysuits that can turn 250 amorphous pounds into something that looks like a Playboy centerfold (with their clothes on) in under 30 seconds...it's all just a bunch of false advertisement. Blatant, irresoponsible deceit on the level of a bad used car salesman. It's tantamount to fraud...we think we're getting juicy melons, but really we're just getting sold lemons. Why is that okay?

I know, I know..."Well maybe if men weren't so shallow, we wouldn't have to do things like that". Uh-huh...save the sob story, sister. If anything, you're an enabler for feeding into the madness. I'm just so sure you're attracting the right kind of attention by artificially playing up physical attributes you don't actually have too...doesn't really matter if we're shallow or deep since all those airbags function as a flotation device anyway. I mean, honestly think about it. I get that people want to feel confident and sexy and blah blah blah...I so understand it. Here's the thing though...tough shit. We don't always get what we want, otherwise I'd be able to fly and walk through walls and all that. Some women have model bodies and some...have...bodies. That's life. If you ain't got it, you ain't got it...and lying about it won't change a damn thing.

Still not convinced? Fine, let's flip the script. Ladies, you're at the gym. You see some glistening, tattooed and muscular man doing whatever workout that gives you the best ogling angles. Wow, he must have been working on that body a long time...that kind of dedication is pretty sexy, and the fact that he's sculpted like a Greek god doesn't hurt either, right? Just as he finishes his set, throws his towel over his shoulder, and walks toward the locker room to change, you notice the zipper at the back of the neck of his amazingly realistic silicone "Male Beefcake Gladiator Power Training Jumpsuit" and are crushed with disappointment. What kind of douche would stoop that low just to LOOK like the cover of "Playgirl"? Hmm...

Not hitting close enough to home yet? Okay, let's say you're in the club on a girl's night out and you meet this amazing guy. (This is my last example, this is getting weird for me fast lol) He's funny, smooth, attractive...and also happens to have a large, mysterious bulge in the front of his pants. Curious about it and swayed by his charm, you end up back at one of your places ready for some one-on-one time. You both start to undress, you undo his belt and slide your hand down to see just how much extra meat came with your order...and get a handful of foam rubber...it's the "Mandingo Low-Swinger Crotch Pad for Men"! You find out the hard way (heh) that Mr. Amazing packed very light for this little sleepover...April Fools'! What a loser, what a creep, what an insecure little man, right? Mirror time!

I don't know...I just can't take it any more. I'm sick of it all...the magic "instant pin-up" girdles, the overstuffed bras that could double as kneepads for an amateur wrestler and can lift a pair of nipples from either side of one's belt buckle into their proper place somewhere between collarbone and solar plexus...it's just too much. The lies have to end. Besides, all the enhancement armor has to come off at some point, and I swear if I ever take some fine, curvacious woman home and her shape comes off with her clothes, I'm reporting her to the Better Bitches Bureau immediately. Listen, physical traits aren't everything. There's a lot to be said about personality...it just isn't as funny. We know very few women have "the perfect body"...but we damn sure know you can't buy it for 3 easy payments of $19.95. I feel y'all should too. We still cool though, right?