Never shoplifted as a teenager. Didn’t get drunk and vomit all over my parents while they were sleeping. Wasn’t courageous enough to light up a square in the high school bathroom.

Ooh, just remembered. Once as a freshman nature during my civics class. I was having stomach problems and needed to do very bad things. Excused to the bathroom I commenced to do what I do when I do how I do. Also, I’d like to mention that the sick screwballs at my private, Catholic high school didn’t bother to put doors on the stalls. There’s no way that would be allowed today what will all that religion’s shenanigans.

So, anyway, I’m doing what I do worst and the goddamned fire alarm goes off. Fine, except I’m only a third of the way through this movie. I hear the students run down the halls and outside onto the lawn. I was stuck. Since I’m not a pussy it never occurred to me to be afraid of a fire. No, I was afraid of being caught by a fireman and then marched outside in from of the student body. That would be more humiliated than I already was on a regular basis.

It’s not like I could do that super cool move where you pick up your feet and put them on the bowl so that nobody sees you during a routine sweep. I’m still shocked that we didn’t have doors. I’m not sure I can write that sentence enough times without it blowing my mind.

Okay, so I’d finish up and join the other frosh out on the quad. No, can’t do that. Same outcome. They’d think I either started the fire or something. Either way I’d have to answer for my deeds. Plus, I wasn’t done yet. Wait – couldn’t I just complete my business and go back to class after the  fire drill was over? No – then all the students would know I was in the bathroom dropping toads and missed the big to-do. The objective was to draw the least amount of attention to myself as possible.

Shockingly nobody checked the boys’ bathroom. This is amazing because there were only two bathrooms in the whole school. And again, no doors on the stalls. Would have taken only three seconds.

Now I was starting to sweat. I wasn’t done. They’d be filing back in soon after realizing this was some junior’s prank. Dammit, this had to be timed just perfectly. I needed to be coming out of the bathroom at just the same time as people were filing in.

Well, not unlike a Joffrey dancer, I landed right on point. The only wrinkle was that I still had the bathroom hall pass. I stuffed it into my Dockers until the end of class and then casually dropped it off on the chalkboard. Nobody knew nothing.

Coda – it’s not like I was able to run off with the homecoming queen since I averted this embarrassment. I’m not sure why I gave a shit. Pun intended.

Wait, wasn’t this post supposed to be about how I’m a rebel in certain ways? I totally lost my train of thought there. Oh well. There’s always tomorrow.

Well, except your undying affection, validation, and readership. I expect that you check my blog daily, having already added it to your RSS reader (you read it there and by visiting the site). You follow me on Twitter and Facebook and laugh heartily at my every  witticism. When I’m a little down (like today) you already know this and send me that personal email telling me how touched your were that I wrote that one post about something.

When I eat too much you stroke my hair as I pass out. At the grocery store you tell me it’s okay to get the big bag of regular Lay’s potato chips even though I haven’t in five years but they’re two for three dollars for shit’s sake. When I drive you ride shotgun staring, not out the window, but at me with eager  anticipation  of my next sentence, which surely will be hilarious.

This is your role. You do it well. I bow in appreciation.

Now, I need more. Not a lot more. But more.

Here’s the skinny. Actually, maybe this is more fat. Okay, here’s the fat. About a year ago a very nice company sent me a big package of their stuff. They wanted me to give it away in a contest. Well, actually they wanted me to use it and blog about it. But I really didn’t want to do that, so I decided to give it away in a contest. Then I put the package in a drawer at work and never did anything with it.

I have a policy of almost never accepting giveaways from companies. The problem is they want you to blog about their product. I’m not against the idea for other bloggers, but it doesn’t really feel like what would work on the blog. Plus, my self-esteem isn’t high enough to accept swag. Back when I getting a lot of these emails from companies the one idea I did have was to pretend that my dog and cat tried them out and write a review from their perspective. But, ultimately I just decided to not do promotional posts.

It’s still my policy. However…

I have this big thing from that company I need to give away. And I have no problems with contests. I just never held one. So, I reached out to the company and apologized profusely for taking their stuff and not doing anything with it. This is a $150 item.

So, we’re going to do a contest!!!

I’ve got it all worked out and it’s going to be fun. However, I need you to participate. Details are coming soon and I think you’ll dig it. It’s going to be on Facebook because it’s easiest to run there. So, if you haven’t liked my page there, please do so  and you will see the contest.

What I need from you is, when it goes live, to please shoot it out to your friends. Not because I care so much what this company thinks or to stroke my ego. But I already have another company lined up to do the next one.

Nothing is more awesome than giveaways and both companies are letting me do whatever I want. They’re just supplying the prize. Ideally, I’d like to do these every month, if possible.

So, I beg of you, when this thing goes live, participate (it will be easy) and tell your friends. That’s it.

Okay, go do something fun like put Saran-Wrap across the bottom part of the toilet. Then wait. All you have to do is wait.

If you live by yourself, this will be an ineffective prank. I hope.

photo credit: OrangeCounty_Girl via photopin cc

I was at work and stressed and she IMd me. Here’s a reenactment of our conversation.

Hey, what are you doing tonight?

Nothing. Just eating pizza until I pass out.

Okah – you HAVE to see this movie. Immediately!

What movie?

Look, before I tell you I want you to promise that you’ll see it. I know you look everything up on RottenTomatoes. I want you to ignore their ratings because you won’t want to see it.

Yeah, but RottenTomatoes is usually right.

Promise me you’ll just watch it.

Okay. It’s that good?

It really is. I can see why some critics didn’t like it, but it’s sort of a cult classic. Very misunderstood. But good.

What’s the name?

Beastly. Best that you don’t read anything about it so certain plot points don’t get ruined. Ever heard of it?

No. Wait a minute… This movie has a 20% on RottenTomatoes! You’re saying this is not a gigantic piece of shit?

No – it’s good. I have great taste in movies. You know this. Trust me.

73/90 critics gave this movie a thumbs-down. C’mon, you’re pulling me over on me.

D.J., I’m not. And I’m tried of talking about it. Watch it or don’t.

Well, I did look at the rating but you know my policy – if I don’t know anything about the movie, I don’t read any reviews. I’ve never seen a 20% movie I liked, but I’m willing to trust me on this one.

Great. I hope you’re excited.

–Fin–

I was really excited. First, my friend Suzanne has amazing taste in movies. Her last recommendation, The Snowtown Murders, was easily one of the strongest movies I’ve seen in years. Also, one of the hardest movies to watch, but brilliant. Her batting average on recommendations is a perfect 1.000.

I’m one of those guys that heads to a movie without knowing anything about it. I went opening night to see The Artist by myself without even knowing it was in black and white or silent. I just saw the RottenTomatoes ranking that day and knew it had to be a must-see. I tell people all the time to just go and be totally surprised. Odds are if the movie has a 90% or better, you’re going to like it unless you’re one of those a-holes who goes, “I don’t care what the critics say! They don’t know nuthin’!”

First, yes they do know something. Second, if a movie has a 18% and you thought it was awesome, your taste in movies sucks. Hey, I’m no better than you. Well, with movies I am. But I will largely proclaim to the heavens that Dominos pizza is damned good, and I live in Chicago with the best pizza on the planet.

When I got home from work that night I was exhausted. Long, hard day. I grabbed dinner and downloaded Beastly. I could not have been more excited to rip into this movie. Again, I knew nothing about the film.

I made it seven minutes.

That son of a bitch Suzanne f’ed me.

This was easily one of the biggest pieces of shit I had seen. I’m not someone that storms out of a bad movie or doesn’t eat the Taco Bell enchilada because they put sour cream in by accident. I suffer through it like a champ.

I just couldn’t do this one. It was that bad. Plus, I was beyond pissed off. I had built this up in my head to be some hidden masterpiece. It was not. Even worse my friend was unavailable that evening so I couldn’t even yell at her. I sent her three text messages that were not complimentary. Well, not unless you consider the c-word complimentary.

Today I sent her a message congratulating the prank. It was perfectly executed. She got me.

I suggest you Beastly (now I use as a verb) one of your friends. They will hate you, especially if they grabbed it at Redbox in the grocery. Plus, 90% of people over 30 have never heard of it. If I fell for it, your friends will too. Go ahead, ruin their Friday night. It’s worth it.

Handerpants

My Review – As Seen On Amazon.com

Perfect If Your Coworkers Grafted a Dick On Your Hand!

As a genetic bio-engineer, I am working on architecting the growth of organs and appendages via biological induction grafting. For you dummies, that means I do things like grow human ears on mice. It's super cool.

One day I fell asleep at work, in the lab, and a couple of the office knuckleheads decided to prank yours truly. Here's what went down. See, we had this dick in the freezer – some Japanese guy kicked off and donated it to us. It's in his will and everything. Pretty wild, right?

So, other than occasionally pulling it out of the fridge and sticking it in Benny's ear for a goof, it doesn't get much action.

Currently we're working on growing a thumb – it's pretty great because all the mice look like they're doing the Fonz's “Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy” as they have a big thumb sticking up on their backs.

Because we're so tied up with the thumb, we have no time to mess around with the freezer dick. Eventually we'll learn how to grow dicks, although more people need new thumbs than dicks, you know?

But, back to my story.

I passed out around noon after a particularly heavy Arby's beef and cheddar lunch. It was one of those five-for-five deals, and I put down the sandwiches in about seven minutes.

When I woke up, Carl was pointing at my hand and laughing. Those bozos has grafted the Japanese dick to my right palm!

Well, two weeks later and the dick's still attached. Apparently my body has “accepted” the dick, and if I have it removed, it'll die or something.

I know – totally bummed.

I reported Carl to HR – although, I did have to admit it was a pretty solid gag. But, walking around with a dick on my hand is a little inconvenient. Plus, it's embarrassing.

Most people don't like seeing dicks in public – there's actually a lot of trouble you can get in showing your dick around town. It's a big deal to the law.

I found the Handerpants on Amazon. It sucks to type with a dick on your hand, as I'm always hitting the “/” key accidentally.

I can now go out into public with ALL of me. My real dick and my palm-dick are both out of sight. And the gloves are fingerless, so I have a little hipster fashion thing going on.

Thank you Handerpants!

Attention public – if you see me walking around, do NOT give me a high five. That really hurts!