Upgrade U: hanging up my G1

*fittedwearer's note: There comes a time in all relationships when one partner passes on, leaving its other half to grieve its loss..and the time has come in one of mine. You see, I and my trusty mobile lifestyle device have been together about 3 years, and as anyone who has ever owned one knows, every month in cell phone ownership time is equal to about 2 years in human aging time...making my phone around 90. It's just time. The cruel fact is that the circle of life spares no man...or machine...and I feel that my old sidekick's life deserves some recognition at its end. This is kind of a big moment for me..please just let me have it...show some respect. (Hey, if people can be all sad when their pets die, I can be sad about this...let's see your dog take pictures, your lizard help you write or your parakeet get on the internet...I'll wait...)

What can be said about a good cell phone that cannot be said in polite company about a romantic partner? You enriched my life, kept some of my deepest secrets (in the Notes app...they usually become umf posts), stayed with me through good and bad times, taught me plenty through the omnipotent Google and Wikipedia, shared both my head and my bed (yeah, I sleep with my phone, what of it?) and if all that weren't enough, you weren't even jealous about it, keeping some of my relationships with human beings afloat through text messages and Facebook. Truly, the impact you had on my life will not be soon forgotten.

In your twilight years, you lost some of the speed, power, and stability that made you so essential to my life, but what I'll always treasure are the memories (and not having to charge you 15 hours a fucking day). I remember when you first came into my life...it was May '08 (damn!) and you were the first of your kind. Your Android operating system differentiated you from all those bitch-ass iPhones..and more than that, made you better.

 I remember when I first saw you, clean and glowing white, swaddled in your white T-Mobile box, tucked away safely like a smartphone nativity scene. (I also remember when I first fielded a question about having a white phone...answer: because everyone else had a black one.) I remember my first instinct was to protect you, spending $30 for a protective case that worked very well...but that didn't stop me from having half a coronary whenever my hands weren't between you and the earth's gravitational pull.

Shortly after that, I remember quickly (and proudly) becoming addicted to you. I remember the laughs we used to share as I sat at work typing entire posts undetected. I remember our late night infotrysts, where I would wake up for no apparent reason, write some 3-word bit down, and have it grow into a whole concept as I slept. I also remember that time you helped me find a sports bar within 10 minutes of a Cowboys game...that's the kind of friendship you only get a few times a lifetime. Sure, you had that weird little chin thingy towards the bottom which still hasn't been explained by HTC, T-Mobile, or any of their affiliates...but it only added to your unique, lovable charm.

I loved the way you used to play the Power Ranger communicator sound every time I got a text message. I loved the way your face used to light up whenever I got an email telling me I had a new umf comment or Facebook notification (or that I won some weird foreign lottery I never bought a ticket for). I loved the way I could customize my entire life one free app at a time, something unheard of at the time. I loved the way you let me silently take pics of weirdos in the streets...and there were plenty. I loved the way you had a "send straight to voicemail" feature, for pesky bill collectors or chicks that just wouldn't take a hint and a half.

Most of all, I love how with the new phone I chose, I can just slide my memory card and sim card into it and have it do all those things inside 10 minutes...your spirit will live on forever (or until I get a non-Android phone). Secretary, sidekick, personal assistant, confidante, conduit, teacher...friend. These are some of the words which describe my feelings for you and the voids that will be left in my life (until Fridayish) with your departure.

You were a valued member of my life and I'll be sad to see you go (but at least I got a pretty sweet deal on your successor, the Galaxy S). For 3 years, you were by my side as my life passed me by, and you never led me astray (or into a fountain)...now it's time to let you go. G1, while our time together may be over, I want you to know that I can upgrade as many times as I want...but I'll never be able to replace you (with the same model...they discontinued it). I'll never forget you...

*chokes up, breaks into tears, checks order status on new phone*

Incarcerelationship: a kite to my (theoretical) imprisoned girlfriend

*fittedwearer's note: So yesterday during the weekly Q and A session I was anonymously asked the following:

"If you had a girl who was locked down what would you say in your first letter?"

I thought it was a great question...so that person won a post! (See, that's why it pays to ask questions haha) In this post, I'm going under the assumption that she's in for over a year for a felony and actually did whatever she's going for...otherwise, she could stay in county jail and she'd probably still have a Facebook account and we could talk there. That said, here it is, my letter to my somehow locked up sweetheart...:

Dear inmate #62358945-omega-B124.5,

Formsprung- Season 2

What's good with y'all today? It's Wednesday, and that means it's time to answer all your questions for the week..."Formsprung" is imminent! Thanks to everybody who asked a question this week...let's get right to this, shall we?

if I go to that slut walk, does it make me a slut?
Well, I won't DEFINITELY say yes, I mean you could just be a tourist...but I'll put it this way, I attended a different march last Saturday called the Global Cannabis March (check out 1:00 to about 1:10 on this vid!) I even went last year and wrote a post on the experience...can I convince you that I don't inhale? Just sayin'...uh....not that there's anything wrong with that...lol...

Lies they Tell the Chirrens: We're all Winners!

You know, I've always felt it was such a disservice to kids nowadays that we tell them that everybody wins. Of course, not everything in life is a contest (just all the important shit), but I'm talking about this new age feel good nonsense in youth sports and other competitive activities where "we don't keep score" and "everybody makes the team" and "there are no losers" and at the end of the day, everyone walks home with the exact same trophy because, hey...we're ALL the winner, right? There's no such thing as losing...as long as you tried, you're a winner just like everybody else...right?

Whose Line is it, Anyway? (for anybody confused about umf)

* fittedwearer's note: after further review, I've decided that there was serious misinformation contained in my infamous SlutWalk post and would like to print something of a retraction. I got a lot of feedback on it, and after careful consideration and a bit of research, I determined I was dead wrong for my misjugdement and misinterpretation of the facts, and I would be remiss if I didn't correct my error...so here it is: the Philly SlutWalk is on June 18th, not the 17th as I said in the post. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused...lol...anyways...

I've had an interesting last couple weeks of writings, and accordingly, I'm often asked where "my line" is. I go pretty hard in a lot of my posts (um...just about all of them) and I tend not to apologize for anything I write. In the last couple weeks, I've taken on fleeing the police, underage girls, censorship, sluts and their walking, and even the proposed Almighty (who can feel free to keep a copy of my letter on file in case of some other doomsday).

Suffice it to say that I'm not scared of much, journalistically speaking. I mean, what the hell is there to fear, I'm safe here behind my computer screen free to spray my opinions out and up for anybody willing to run through the sprinkler (or anybody who stands too close).

That said, the question often comes up...why be this way? Why throw in your 2 cents on EVERYTHING? I'll answer that, for the benefit of those who haven't been here long...it's because I would say (and likely have said) the same in real life. I'm not scared of much, realistically speaking.

I've always felt that the average person has 2 sets of opinions, one for "polite" company (i.e.- people they don't feel comfortable enough with to tell the truth) and the real one, the one they share with friends and family...I just chose to erase the line between them. umf AJ and regular AJ are the same guy. It ain't always PC, but it's real, and I'm proud of that.

Sometimes, I'm the only person willing to be himself where people can see him...it's cool, I'll be that...that's where umf comes in.

umf is pretty much a simulation of knowing me as a person, and everything you read on here is the rough, rugged and raw truth through my eyes (which explains the name...get it, under my fitted? hahaha? Yeah, I know, not that clever...I just went with what came up first.)

What you read on umf is what goes on in my head, and if it's bad enough to make you type in allcaps here, it's probably bad enough to make you want to make you want to punch me in the face in the matrix...and in that case, take a fuckin' number (or come find me and we can fight, I guess...lol...).

I'll always have respect for someone who's willing to share their unfiltered opinion over someone who will feed you the right-sounding bullshit, smile in your face and cut you to ribbons behind your back, and I provide people that same courtesy. I don't pretend to be or feel anything I don't...agree, disagree...don't matter, it's still me.

Anyway, I guess this post is as much to remind me what umf is for as to remind you. I think it, I say it, I write it, I mean it...you read it (if you want).

For pretty obvious reasons, I'm not for everybody, and if not, I can certainly dig it. I might find myself a douchebag from a 3rd party perspective. Difference is, the only one I have is this one, and from here, I'm almost always right. Guess that makes me like most people...I just embrace it. Besides, I'm fresh out of fucks and don't know when the next shipment's coming in, so I can't just be givin' em out to everybody who has a problem with me.

So to answer the question of "where's my line"...it's where I need it to be, because it's wherever I draw it that day (and, as a direct result, is the one that separates me from other folk). It's my fuckin' line, dammit!

Now that we've got that established, welcome to umf...get your line-stepping kicks out! (Trust me, it feels great!)

Covering my As(cension)- A letter to God (or whom it may concern)

Dear...um...I'm actually not sure what to call you...I'm sure in your infinite wisdom you can dig it,

Listen...I know a few of your devotees might be offended by some of the things I'm about to say, but I'm sure you're too big a person to get offended by anything an insignificant human being like me could say...hell, you're God! I'm really not sure I believe in you (and you can't blame me for that, you gave me the brainpower to ask questions but not to know the answers to them...especially since you know "have faith" is right below "because I said so" on my "reasons to believe things" list...) and I'm definitely not sure I believe in this  whole "end of the world" thing that's supposed to be happening tomorrow...in fact, I'm almost positive that's not going to happen, but I figured now was as good a time as any to have a quick chat with you since we don't talk much. I've heard a lot about you...some good, some bad, some completely nonsensical...and I just want to have it on record that I tried to get at you and find the truth for myself.

Fuck H*lf-C*ns*rsh*p!

Despite my foul mouth, (which is NOT a substitute for a decent vocabulary, as so many snobby little dumbfucks like to say) one thing I've always had a problem with is this s*** right here. What, you didn't see what was wrong with that? Here, lemme try that again. One thing I've always had a problem with was this shit right here. Wasn't much of a difference between those 2 sentences, was there? Well, that depends on who you ask...most people who take the time to sit and think about it realize that once you read and decode the sentence, they're exactly the same. Other, less cerebral folk will pass the fuck out because I just used a cuss word, and would have felt much better if I had said "pass the f$@! out" instead. For real, somebody tell me the point.

It's not as much a method for suppressing objectionable material as it is an adult game of "Wheel of Fortune". I mean, to even read whatever sentence contains the bad words, you have to translate it in your head...so if I say "if you seriously can read this f_____ sentence and really not know what the f___ I'm really saying, you must be either an a_____, a f______ idiot, or just bull___ing yourself", I'm pretty sure you know that the deleted words ain't "flower", "athiest", and "skim"....just like anybody else over the age of 7. That's why it kills me to death to see people on the internet type thinks like "f*** this!" or "suck my d***"! In that situation, not only are you actually saying whatever foul shit you meant to say, you're insulting people's intelligence by thinking they won't be able to beat your little game of Hangman. I can accept being cussed out, but I'm NOT gonna tolerate being called stupid...that's an ass whuppin'. Stop being a bitch...either cuss or don't.

Formsprung- Season 2

What's going on with y'all, umf'ers? It's Wednesday and that means it's our weekly anonymous Q and A day around here...but before we get to that, we need to talk. You see, yesterday's "Slut Walk" post apparently generated a lot of controversy and 5 questions for today. I was going to answer them all individually, but then I got a comment (from a guy, shockingly!) on it that kind of summed up all the concerns about the post...so instead of answering all those, I'm just going to publicly respond to that comment using things I said in the post so nobody can accuse me of backpedaling (only outfielders and cornerbacks do that...I wasn't either). First of all, let me thank Johann for his comment...I keep it real with y'all, please don't hesitate to do it with me. That said, let's break it down.

Normally I enjoy your posts, but you blew it this time. Your entire post reeks of slut-shaming and victim-blaming. No man has a right to rape a woman ever, and women have a right to dress and act as they please without getting raped. Or, have some man who will probably never have the experience of being raped ridicule them for making a statement.
Thanks for enjoying my posts, I'm glad you do and hope you continue to...but I DID go out of my way to say this:
"I'm not, repeat, not, one mo'ginn, NOT saying that women who choose to look like they cost $50 deserve to be attacked..."
Said it 3 times man...a crime is a crime is a crime, and in all cases the criminal is responsible. Nobody ever deserves that...there's no excuse, it can't be defended, and those who commit acts like this deserve the worst punishments the law can provide (and honestly, more).

"Hell...a red shirt could get you shot in the wrong hood..."
Which is not a justification for the shooter, just a reality of life in some areas. We can debate how wrong that is until next Wednesday, but it won't get the guy in the red shirt any less shot when some banger comes and asks where he's from. At the end of the day, it's just best to know your environment for your own safety. Okay, on to the next part...

The slut walks are aimed at men like you who think sluttiness is some kind of fault and that if sluts were a little more careful they wouldn't need to worry about rape. Women have a right to their sexuality just as you do. To equate a sexually liberated woman with a $50 prostitute is shameful.
We have to agree to disagree on sluttiness as a form of merit, I don't personally find it cute, and I do think some women look like $50 whores because they shop at some of the same stores...can't really blame me for that...but then again:
"...who gives a damn what I think..."

and as far as the whole right to be a proud slut, I had this to say:
"the Slut Walk will be in Philadelphia on June 17, and I'm sure there will be a very heavy turnout (if only to self-identify). People will wear whatever they want, and that's cool with me...hell, I'm definitely not gonna sit here and say women should wear those black ghost costumes some Muslim women wear or anything, but realize there are certain inherent risks to wearing any controversial clothing." 


I think I said what I had to say about that...moving on...


Even more disappointing are the three previous comments by women who agree with you. How about some solidarity, ladies? It is up to you to straighten AJ out, not cheer him on.
That looked like solidarity to me, just on the opposite end than you may have expected. (I'll be honest, it kinda surprised me too.) 4 out of 4 women who commented agreed...I guess, like me, they saw this as a parody of a women's rights struggle and female sexuality in general. There are far, far more important things to worry about for the woman of today. I didn't have the audacity to tell women what they wanted or how they should feel about this, I let them speak for themselves...but then again, I don't think umf's slut readership is that high, so the stats may be skewed.


and as for this part: If you don't mind, I would like to repost this in its entirety. It's a post that begs to be ripped apart sentence by sentence. I can answer that on the fly...go for it, brohann...just cite your sources ;)

aaaaaaall right....now that we're done with that for now, let's get to the rest of what you came here for...

Which would you prefer: Putting it in a Dallas Cheerleader's rear end or getting a bj from Jennifer Lopez?
Well, since I would hate to disrespect authentic Cowboys apparel by getting blood, shit, sperm or any other kind of bodily fluids on it (or...me), I'll take the BJLo package for 1000, Alex....

so when did you discover you could write?
Actually, I was thinking about this in the shower this morning (this question was asked the other day) and I discovered I'd been writing all my life. I wrote stuff for my mommy as a youngin, dumb little stories for class, kept a journal from time to time (I still do, but y'all can see it...it's called umf) and even wrote a 15 page paper on the history of the Dallas Cowboys on about half an hour of research as my senior project (and yes, I got an A, bitch!)

Post high school, I had MySpace (remember that?) and made many attempts at being clever there, had some "thought of the day"-type AIM away messages, started writing a few Facebook notes which people liked, and eventually started this shit at the behest of a couple people. I never thought I'd still be doing it almost 2 years from then, but like I just realized today...hey, I'm a fuckin' writer. It's what I do. SO to answer your question...right after I started reading (2) I guess...

I'm 19 and my gf is 17. After reading your post on underage girls I see that she has 6 of those trait, she's only missing the loudness. My question to you is am I wrong for dating her? ps- yes, we have sex
Wow, your girlfriend types LyKk Dy$$t? How the fuck do you deal with that?! You're a better man than me...but you asked a question, right?

Hmm...my thought is "no", she's old enough to know what she's doing...however, as for the actual legalityyou might wanna check your state's law, but here in PA I believe the statutory rape gap is 3 years removed from a minor, so using that as a guideline, you SHOULD be good.

so when's the graduation party?
That's the best part about graduating the way I did...the party is every day!

Aliens land in your backyard. They ask you to come with them. Do you?
As long as they agree not to kill, probe, impregnate, permanently kidnap, or add or subtract anything from my physical form without my approval, why not? It'd make a hell of a post...lol...

did you hear about the couple who named their baby "Like"? as in FB "like"?

ugh...unfortunately...I guess they got past the fact that their poor child will suffer ridicule the moment she speaks her name for the rest of her life. I think that's borderline child abuse, but since we're at that point as human beings now, fuckit...allow me to suggest a few more 21st century bullshit names...

"Poke"- I wouldn't recommend it for a girl, but it's almost kinda cute, right?

"Tweet"- It was a singer's stage name back before people ever hit #thisbutton on purpose...maybe it can take the next step!

"FarmVille"- Ideal for the worldly Amish family looking for a new twist.

"Friendster"- you want an approachable sounding name (even if they're just appoaching you to give you a wedgie)? Can't top this...

"TwitPic"- Well, I guess that's more of a stripper name...but people gave their kids those last century, so whatever.

"Google"- but that better be one smart baby!

and, for my tech savvy hoodrat friends:

d'Internet- people sometimes name their kids after the place they met, right?

Seriously...can we stop the madness, humanity?

Aight, that's about it for this week...I want to thank everybody who shared their consciousness with me today...for real, no sarcasm...agree or disagree, at least I ain't irrelevant. If you wanna ask a question (or chastise the fuck outta me) for next week, find the blue question box >over there> or as always, the link is under this:

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

Slut Walk!

Some things are just so ripe for parody they barely require jokes, which is why this post lacks even a clever title. (I mean, how the fuck am I supposed to top that phrase for eye-catchability?) Nope, the title of this post refers not to a promisucous method of locomotion nor some website where one can Google the fastest and least conspicuous walk-of-shame route home, (hmm, slutwalk.com ...I could totally see that...options for routes that take you past places you can get breakfast, streets where one can hail cabs or clothing stores to buy an outer layer of clothing so everyone doesn't know you're wearing the same clothes from yesterday...is that taken yet? If not, it's mine, bitch!) but an international event, coming soon to a city near you!

Where in the hell could one possibly get an idea like this and for what purpose? Well, for starters, we actually can blame Canada. This thing got and spread its legs in Toronto a few weeks ago when a police officer told a personal security class that they could "avoid being victimized by not dressing like a slut". Make of that sentence what you will, but what a group of women in Toronto made of it was a 1,000 woman march of scantily clad women defending and demanding their right to...um...dress like sluts. They were outraged at the suggestion that being dressed like something out of the back of an independent newspaper would garner negative attention. Of course, a thousand women deep, no one was victimized, the march passed without incident, a tour of North America was planned, and the entire incident was cheered as a victory for women's rights...or...something. Of course, the question here is...what the fuck?

Since when did sluttiness become a positive attribute? Why are women out there marching for their right to resemble dickholsters? With all the problems out there facing women today...domestic violence, breast cancer, workplace discrimination, no more Oprah episode...you pick THIS cause to get riled up for? Really? A slut walk? It's not even like it's a word with colloquial connotations that can be reclaimed. It's just a foul-ass word. I mean, I can get away with calling bitches bitches, the bitches call other bitches that all the time and don't seem to particularly mind me doing so, as long as it's in the correct context...but let me call a bitch a slut without wearing an athletic cup and the only person who will regret it more than me are my kids who will never be born. Why would anybody want to be labeled a slut? Susan B. Anthony risked being tarred and feathered so women could vote, in twentyleven we're struggling over the right to wear a bra as clothing or a negligee to the supermarket. Where the fuck are we at as a society?

(I need you to read this next paragraph v e r y carefully...don't comment with no bullshit, please.)

Not only that, but...it's not like Officer Maple Leaf didn't have a point. I don't have any statistics to back me up, so honestly I'm quite fucked if you call me on that...but it would certainly stand to reason that people who lock their doors are less likely to be a target for home invasion. It would also make sense that a locked car is less likely to be stolen, that carefully watched children are less likely to get snatched, that money kept hidden from others is less likely to be hidden from you later, or that your girlfriend is far less likely to find all those nekkid pics in your phone if you keep that secure too. See where I'm going with this? I'm not, repeat, not, one mo'ginn, NOT saying that women who choose to look like they cost $50 deserve to be attacked...just saying there are certain steps one can take to decrease the likelihood of being targeted, and keeping one's nipples on the inside when you're on the outside is one of those steps.

Of course, who gives a damn what I think...the Slut Walk will be in Philadelphia on June 17, and I'm sure there will be a very heavy turnout (if only to self-identify). People will wear whatever they want, and that's cool with me...hell, I'm definitely not gonna sit here and say women should wear those black ghost costumes some Muslim women wear or anything, but realize there are certain inherent risks to wearing any controversial clothing. An "I (heart) the KKK" t-shirt, while perfectly legal to wear, might get your face stomped down your throat if worn in the wrong area. A Speedo worn to Wal-Mart technically falls within the limits of the law, but will get you put on somebody's Facebook wall as a funny picture (I know that because I would be the guy to do it).

Hell...a red shirt could get you shot in the wrong hood...so why are we surprised that people who dress like hoes are often mistaken for them? Who knows...all I know is I'm strongly debating renting an electric blue leisure suit, feathered hat and a bejeweled cane and standing near the Slut Walk when it comes handing out fake job applications just for fun. Hey...that's what sluts are good for, right? Now get out there and get me my mon-aaaaay....lol...

The Graduate

Over the weekend I noticed that a few of my friends were all abuzz about graduating from college and to the next stage of their lives. (To the class of twentyleven:  this ain't a hate piece, congrats y'all!) While I felt happiness for them, it reminded me of my own aborted college career, ended by my choice. You see, this would have likely been my graduation year had I stayed in school (well, technically, I was out of high school in '05, but everybody knows nobody finishes college in 4 years) and the event forced me to take a little stock of my life since the graduation that apparently doesn't count.

In other words, just what the fuck have I been doing with my time the past few years besides ingesting mind-altering substances, watching TV, and writing this bullshit?

Looking at it from the outside, I could see how it looks like I'm headed for about 40 more years at this soul-crushing place followed by a small retirement party with a supermarket sheet cake and a surprise unveiling of a gold plaque over a urinal memorializing my contributions to the company, followed by a long slow death unfunded by either Social Security (yeah, I'm 23, I know that's fucked by the time I need it) or any kind of retirement savings, since I make about what a Chuck E. Cheese mascot makes with a couple hours of overtime.

She looked 18!: a Field Guide to Avoiding Underage Girls

As I mentioned the other day, young girls of a certain age (usually somewhere between 14 and 17) are increasingly difficult to distinguish from actual women that are legal to be attracted to. These grown-looking teenage girls are referred to as jalebait, and have been the downfall of many a man. You see, true to the old adage, 15 will indeed get you 20...and a 15 year old girl that claims she's 18 will get you that same 20. However, every day men everywhere throw caution to the wind, horndoggishly pursuing any female who looks over the age of 16...but in some cases, you can't even blame the guy, odds are she's more developed and worldly than his old high school girlfriend 15 years ago.

How did young girls get to be so womanish? Blame additives to our food, blame television, blame Nicki Minaj(seriously, it's fun!), blame Canada...they "why" doesn't matter as much as the "how", as in "how do I make sure I don't end up in the slammer trying to get with this chick?" Well, for one, you could check ID...but nobody does that, and unless you work at a liqour store or 7-11, it's kind of a weird thing to ask a person you just met. Sure, there are common sense identifiers for young girls like a Catholic schoolgirl dress not worn as a choice, missing teeth and the public consumption of Fun Dip, but in a world where you can get both adult acne products and children's lingerie, the lines can be very blurry.

Often teenage girls have traits usually (and sometimes by law) reserved for women over the age of 18...overexposed skin, multiple tattoos, cigarettes, children...the old "I'm at least 18!" markers are meaningless in the world of today, causing confusion and misunderstandings to arise. Sure, she looks 18, knows exactly what she's doing, probably came on to you AND by virtue of being a female, must make the final decision on whether the act takes place for it to be considered consensual...but a court of law will not see it that way. I think there should be some sort of guide to bring some hiclarity to this phenomenon...luckily I write shit like that, so here it is, "She looked 18!"- a field guide to avoiding underage girls...if the lady you're thinking about dealing with has 4 out of 7 of these traits, that's no lady...it's somebody's daughter! Aight, let's get immature:

Formsprung- Season 2

What's good with you today, umf'ers? It's Wednesday and you should know what that means by now...got a lot of great Q's from y'all for me to A this week, wanna take some time out to thank the folk that asked 'em! (*time out* 'preciate it... */time out*) Aight, let's get this week's session started.

What did you bring your momma for her day? Are there posts about her? She doesn't read any of this, does she?

lol that is definitely 3 questions...but sure, whatever:

1) I got her a card with a gift card in it, like everybody else who doesn't know what to get somebody... (what the hell gift am I supposed to give that competes with life?)

2) Yes, there are...I wrote a poem about her last mother's day, she made a couple cameos in posts (mostly involving my sister) and most of my posts on parenting are obviously based on things she did or didn't do to me when I was growing up since I don't have any rugrats of my own.

3) Hell fuckin' no hahaha

"Search Me..." VI

What's goin on umf? As you might be aware by now, the internet is a wealth of every drop of information you could ever want (and a torrential downpour of information you might not). umf, the site you're on right now, contains some of that information. The thing is, people often type some wild ass shit into their search bars, and Google, in all its infinite wisdom, sometimes drops them off here. Luckily for me, I can see exactly what people were looking for when they somehow found umf...and it ain't always what you would expect. This is where I share that with you. Oh, and just for fun, I'll throw in the Information Quotient, my unnecessarily esoteric way of describing the likelihood that whoever was on the other end of that search came away with what they were looking for on a 1-100 scale. Got it? Aight, make the kids go watch "Springer" for a few and let's get started:


7/11 closed osama joke (and like, a million variants) - had to lead to the Bin Laden death FAQ I put out last Monday...clearly it did have a purpose, as many people were indeed wondering "what now?", among many other, stupider questions. I'm glad I was able to serve my country...by telling them to calm the fuck down just a little bit.
IQ: 99 (I made it a point to inform the searcher that Osama jokes are very last week, possibly saving a chat at the office, first date, dinner party from serious joke brickage.)


aj lonely- hahah...am I? Only post that even vaguely fits is the Valentine's Day poem from last year...it's called "Captain AJ's Lonely Hearts Club", and it's refreshingly bitching-free for something by that title...lol...
IQ: 40 (It's 40% of the post name...)


"I want a man"- Probably led to one of my relationship posts, not sure which. There's advice for good girlfriending all over this place. Read 'em all, honey...you'll get one!
IQ: 50 (Hey...if it doesn't work out, there's a guide to breaking up, too!)

Leisure Flight

As a person who spends a lot of time in legal gray areas, I've always wondered just how illegal it was to run from the cops. I mean, there are charges in that family...if they see you doing something wrong and you decide to flee, they can pursue you for your wrongdoing until they catch you, at which point they're going to arrest you and charge you with whatever they chased you for AND for making them go a longer distance than necessary..."fleeing and eluding" or some such shit. Hey, it's your fault for getting caught breaking the law (next time don't get caught!).

Of course, once you're caught, resisting said arrest is....well, "resisting arrest." (Never got why that one was a charge...I mean, who's going to willingly walk into silver bracelets with a big ole smile on their face? Whatever your deeds, it's only human nature not to want to be placed in restraints, shoved into a vehicle, and taken away from one's natural habitat to be removed from general society for a predetermined length of time based on the nature and severity of your offense. I'm sure everybody wants to offer some resistance...is "repeated and incessant claims of innocence" a crime too?) But what about the running in and of itself? Is that against the law?

PSA: Mama vs. Baby Mama

*fittedwearer's note: the contents of this PSA assume any mothers mentioned are worthy of the term. Having pushed human tissue out the bottom of you does NOT automatically make you a mother...until you raise your kids properly or at the very least make a concerted effort to do so, you're simply a functioning uterus with a mouth. If that last sentence describes you, not only do you not deserve a damn thing for Mother's Day, you should kill yourself, stop reading this post, and kill yourself, in that order. Aight, let's get started...

*clears throat, taps mic*

This thing on? Okay...an interesting debate I've heard pop up recently concerns Mother's Day. The question was posed: who comes first on Mother's Day, the mother of one's children (wife, girlfriend, baby moms, that one chick who keeps threatening to call Maury on you) or one's own mother? There were heated opinions on both sides, some suggesting that once a woman bears a man's child, she should always come first. The other faction says that mom always comes first. Both sides presented reasonably valid points, but it kept my wheels turning long after the conversation ended.

Philadelphia: Birthplace of Free...Condoms.

So I was on the way home from work the other day when I saw a guy near the train stop handing out condoms like the one pictured. They're part of a Philly health department program that targets school-age kids to promote safe sex. (I personally think a lot of folk my age could use some safe sex training, but let me not digress...this early.) Students can either visit a web site and request one be mailed to them or just wander the streets until they encounter a jimmy hat fairy like I did...either way, it's a program that's one of the first of it's kind. But, like any most any other new program, it has detractors.

They contend that passing out prophylactics to 9th graders is an endorsement of underage casual sex and other related arguments. I, of course, think that's bullshit...all these TV shows about teens and their pregnancies is ample evidence that they'll slap their little stomachs together whether they have a condom or not. (Hell, I have plenty of anecdotal evidence too...more than half of my graduating class has school-age kids now...the class of '05 will almost directly produce the class of '20, assuming any of them graduate...ain't that some shit?)

Formsprung- Season 2

Aight, it's Wednesday and you know what it is...quick shoutout to everybody who decided to ask a question this week! Let's go...

Where were you when Osama died and what was your Facebook status?

haha...good one...

Your 2 part question has a 1 part answer...I was actually on Facebook at the time (yup, it's twentyleven...we get our news from social networking sites), and had this to type:

"1 high-caliber armor peircing bullet: $3. 1 fully automatic tactical grade special forces assault rifle: $1,500. United States Department of Defense budget in twentyleven: $548.9 BILLION. 10 years in a war costing over 3,000 American lives and countless on the other side: who the fuck knows?! One overreaction to the death of a terrorist figurehead by an uninformed America: mindless.

(★chargingstar★)"

its BASEDGod dummii u will respect da swaggin young boss

that's not a question, dick...you will respect the proper Formsprung format! Now go away kid, you bother me.

Ain't that a B? (or "my worst night in a long fuckin' time")

*fittedwearer's note: I swear I wasn't even gonna write a post about this...but after that night, I figured some free material was the least I deserved...so if you ever find this post, family...you always raised me to tell the truth, right?

Y'all know that I spend a lot of time writing made up bullshit...about 80 percent of umf is either theorized, facetious, or otherwise contain a diluted form of reality. However, there's another class of posts on umf, things that actually happened in my own 3D life. (Yes, I have one...lol...)

Crazy shit seems to happen to me sometimes...wine tastings gone awry, seeing overweight Latinas being beaten out of their clothes at rap concert, a spontaneous trip to Atlantic City while highly intoxicated (the only way to go to Jersey), being mistaken for people from summer camp and getting free food out of it (thanks again, "Helen!"), having my life and welfare placed in jeopardy by some chick named Purple...it all goes down. They say the best comedy comes from truth, and I guess it's true to an extent...you just can't make some of this shit up. They're tagged "adventures and misadventures"...this one is definitely the latter. It all started with a phone call...

So Osama bin Killed...What Now?

*fittedwearer's note: In the wake of recent events, there have been many questions raised, some legitimate, some stupid as fuck. We here at umf feel like the American people deserve answers...so here's a quick FAQ about the death of Osama Bin Laden and how it may affect you.

Bin Laden died?
Yes, he did. I don't know how you don't know that, seeing as there was near total domination on the story on all news outlets, including the Facebook News Network, (sign of the times that I actually found out there) which exploded like Jesus came back with the breaking of the story. I actually saw an advertisement for a "Bin Laden's dead!" afterparty for some local club, and fully expect to see low-intelligence T-shirts on the matter become available in a matter of hours. Once you see a guy under the El selling T-shirts commemorating something out of his trunk, you know it happened.