nerd research finds hot (yet troubled) chicks are into:

the misfits.
like, a shitload. baffles the fucking mind. good songs, no doubt about it, fuckin-a great songs, but good luck getting a cute girl worth a shit that worked up over the dictators. it happens.




100% cotton, sure to not send mixed signals in mosh pit

history of stuff, pt. 1

over 4,143 blowjobs take place around the world every single night. that's incredible! but did you know that blowjobs were once known as "spitties"?

the term was coined by the infamous kilatumsah, north dakota harlot nan "the pan" abbott way back in 1872! apparently nan was inspired by how much her patrons were using the stoons in her saloon/brothel, so much so that she started to keep a stoon up in her "personal" quarters next to her bed. only she didn't spit tobacco juice into it, if you catch my drift. nan's idea caught fire like a bad flare up of the herp, and soon whorehouses everywhere were offering "spitties" from bismarck to baton rouge.



"Say, honey, how much for a spitty?"

vokeebulary, pt. 1

\tombstone (v.) - to adamantly stand behind your girlfriend/wifey at rock show as if somebody's gonna come and take her away. see also "never-ending hug from behind".

c'mon now, you're in public. take your fucking hands out of her front pockets and let the booty breathe. I know you guys are in love, that's great. I know cusack did it at the end of high fidelity. but just hug her and move it back an inch or hold hands or something.

nothing is worse than fighting for a spot in a crowd, and then getting stuck next to some baboon ogling his lady friend like a pile of bananas. the worst tombstoning is when they start grinding and getting in on some over-the-shoulder frenching. no forgiveness.

a sage contemporary pop solo artist once said "if you love someone, set them free". this also could have been public recourse to his previous stalker mantra of watching "every breath" somebody takes, but hey.

Stuff You Don't (and rightfully shouldn't) Think About, Pt. 1

watched total recall before I went out to the bar last night. fucking michael ironside. fucking ronny cox. fucking dude-with-buggy-glasses guy. this is my generation's north by northwest. which is scary.

as I sifted through some yellow beer it occurred to me that the premise is basically the same as eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, but if you say that to half of portland, you'd probably get some granola thrown at you. seriously. both movies are about erasing/implanting shit in your brain, and living through it. now if we can just get elijah wood to say "you ever fuck a mutant?"

and it bugs me that the inherent industrial plight (fighting for fresh air in the future) is the same as spaceballs and an inconvenient truth.


now get your ass to mars.