tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14805486586874797472024-03-05T02:53:12.599-05:00The Random FuckularityThe randomness of my life... my fucked up views on politics, religion, life, beer, political correctness and things that piss me off.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-79372514503168387322010-02-14T22:51:00.000-05:002010-02-14T22:52:25.545-05:00Actual Letter to FuddruckersDear Fuddruckers Management and Chef Staff,<br /><br />I was at your store yesterday and noticed that you talk a lot about the quality of your hamburger meat. I saw mention of fresh ground and fresh patties made every day, and even a little table talker about how you only use hand-picked cows from select farms.<br /><br />The impression you give is that you really care about the beef, and that it is top notch.<br /><br />So why the fuck do you insist on using low grade, paper-thin, pre-cooked ass bacon? Seriously. I know it saves you money, but nobody in your entire organization can take a bite of that hideous garbage and say, "Mmmmm, this is really good bacon."<br /><br />Sure you save money because you don't have to cook it. No cleanup either, and hey, you don't have to worry about employees grazing these paper thin pre-processed turds that you put on top of select burgers.<br /><br />Please pass this note on to the executive level tie-wearing retards who spend all day thinking about golf and spent 2 seconds approving this bacon. The following portion of this email is for them.<br /><br />Ok Assclowns, imagine you are at a car lot buying a new BMW to show off in. It has been lovingly designed and crafted to be the best handling, best looking and best performing car on the lot. You like the car with the sport package don't you? Yeah you do. You'll never drive faster than 60, but fuck it, you want to pretend that some day you might.<br /><br />You sign on the dotted line and they bring you your car, and then and only then do you notice that instead of modern cushions, that they have filled the all-leather seats with human feces.<br /><br />THAT IS WHAT YOUR BACON TOPPED BURGERS ARE - HIGH QUALITY RUINED BY SHIT.<br /><br />Seriously guys, Wendy's has better bacon than you do. Don't you feel even a little bad about that?Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-74821571419538371292010-02-12T12:43:00.001-05:002010-02-12T12:44:52.956-05:0050 Cent Cigarettes????<div class="UIComposer_InputArea_Base UIComposer_InputArea"><div class="UIComposer_InputShadow "><div style="width: 508px;" class="Mentions_Input" id="c4b759099f302749ce7117_input" contenteditable="true">I signed up for NewspaperArchive.org just now, and this is the second article I found in my old local newspaper... (1970)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> The cost of smoking is already up</span><br /><br />You've heard the story.<br /><br />It's the one about the guy who made a New Year's<br />resolution to quit buying cigarettes. He didn't give<br />up smoking, just paying for the cigarettes<br />That idea may become a reality for cigarette<br />smokers in the mid-Mon Valley area when the price<br />of cigarettes officially goes up at one minute after<br />midnight tonight.<br /><br />Legislation boosting the state levy from 13 cents<br />per pack to 18 cents — highest in the nation — was<br />sent to Gov. Raymond Shafer last week when the<br />Senate gave final legislative approval by a 41-1 vote.<br />'Making the change'<br /><br />Because the measure calls for it to become effective<br />immediately upon Shafer's signature, the governor<br />will not sign it until midnight — to give wholesalers<br />and dealers time to make necessary adjustments.<br />"We've been making the change on our machines,"<br />said Bill Sapone of Monessen, a cigarette<br />machine distributor. "The process isn't difficult with<br />our newer machines, but it can be quite a job with<br />the older ones."<br /><br />The newer machines, which can be adjusted for<br />the new 50 cents per pack...<br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div></div>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-81450819656483664262009-02-24T14:27:00.002-05:002009-02-24T15:06:09.147-05:00An Open Letter To Popular ScienceDear PopSci,<br /><br />Why do you allow scam artists to advertise in your magazine? Are you really so hard up for money that you need to allow these people to share space with you just to survive?<br /><br />You have published articles about how bad science does bad things for people, and then right at the end of the magazine you allow a scammer to purchase a full page ad telling people how they are drinking filth and how the only pure water they can count on comes through them.<br /><br />Your sister magazine, last month, did multi-page piece on which "As Seen On TV" products were bullshit and yet at the end of the magazine there are ads for penis growth pills and fake natural cures. Why don't you go after your own advertisers if you want to pretend to care about your readers getting scammed?<br /><br />I remember back in 8th grade It used to be amusing to flip to the back of your magazine and see what crap idiots were being scammed into spending money on. Over the past couple of decades you have become more than a magazine of "possible future cars" and you have started publishing articles on real science, real trends, real inventions and real science.<br /><br />I don't expect you to do the Good Housekeeping thing. You don't have to verify and give a thumbs up to every product you have an ad for in your magazine, but when you put your sights on real science and allow ads for "Magic Sex Pheromones" - you come off looking like douchebags.<br /><br />The worst part is that you will break up your major articles so that people are forced into the quack medical ads, or scientific conspiracy theory ads, if they want to read the rest of a really good story on global climate change.<br /><br />Yes I know this helps you sell ads. But maybe you'd sell ads to the right people if they didn't have to associate themselves with worthless coins collections, crappy watches, penis growers, water purifiers and miracle heaters that must break the laws of physics to do 1/2 of what the ad claims.<br /><br />Get your act together.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-86549230421120933602009-02-12T10:38:00.004-05:002009-02-12T12:16:32.856-05:00Stepping Out (a nostalgic ramble)Yesterday was just one of those days.<br /><br />It's hard to even put into words how everything can come together on certain days to bring you right back to where you were when you were a kid. Just driving up the road to get some lunch I found myself remembering the first warm days of the year when I was in Jr. High. I remember jumping off of the bus, on to my bike, and riding it down to my friends house making sure to leave my jacket at home because I would not bow down to the cold that would come after dusk. That would mean admitting defeat. It would mean admitting that it wasn't yet summer.<br /><br />I was once called an idiot for being nostalgic, for holding on to the past the way that I do.<br /><br />At the time, I was shocked to hear it. Not because I agreed with the statement but because people could actually think that way. The past should somehow be shoveled into a garbage bag and put out on to the street instead of having it's place in your life? I always felt that they should be treasured. Especially the good moments. Especially the events and people who changed your life. Especially the moments where you felt alive - physically or mentally.<br /><br />But of course, you can't tell me something like that without it sticking in my brain. When I stepped outside yesterday it was also a cause for me to step outside myself to think about what made me who I am, and it kind of hit me finally. Why am I generally more nostalgic than everyone else?<br /><br />For example, I have an old video game collection that includes Atari 2600 games, Intellivision, and Colecovision. I collect those little LED Football games from the late 70's. I have a giant plastic tub full of Transformers, and another one full of Legos. I have two different boxes of papers, notes, pictures, fliers and random crap from me teenage years. I have two video tapes of my friends and me hanging out and drinking beer. I even have a Star Wars coin-op in my basement because, when I was a kid, it was my favorite arcade game.<br /><br />I like finding old friends, saying hi just to see how they are doing. I've recently found a lot of old friends and I genuinely enjoy catching up, either through email or through a few empty beer bottles down at Jacks. Hell, I'm flying to Vegas in March to hang out with some old friends who live there.<br /><br />Most people aren't like me. I accept that. But why am I like this? Like I said earlier - I think I figured it out. It has to do with where I grew up. Monongahela, Pennsylvania, population 1700. The part of Monongahela I grew up in, the number was closer to 50.<br /><br />That means that while everyone else in my graduating class of 400+ kids had an entire community of kids to hang out with - I had something like 4.<br /><br />Of those 4 only one of them was in my grade. Only one other Senior was on the school bus with me during my Sr. Year. (He wouldn't have been in my graduating class if his mother didn't force him to repeat 2nd grade!)<br /><br />So imagine my early teen years - being isolated meant that you kind of had to hold on to your friends. If Kirk pissed me off there was no walking away and hanging out with someone else. We had to figure out our differences and deal with it. (Or walk another 5 miles to find someone else to play army with.) When he got his first girlfriend and disappeared for a few months, I didn't just hang up on him when he called and wanted to hang out again, I came down and we picked up where we left off.<br /><br />Yeah sure over the years he and I drifted pretty far and now days we barely see each other, but when he called me last year and asked me to come camping with him, there was no doubt in my mind we should hang out, yet again.<br /><br />That is kind of like how I've treated my entire life. Old friends are still friends. Old memories are still a part of me.<br /><br />These things made me who I am, and if a warm day in the middle of winter makes me think about jumping on my bike to hang out with a friend - I have no problem being a nostalgic idiot.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-89406103481991054722009-02-02T13:15:00.004-05:002009-02-02T13:29:33.501-05:00The Ruining Of The National AnthemAm I the only person who is tired of seeing R&B singers fuck up the National Anthem?<br /><br />I don't know when it started, sometime in the 80's I suspect, but it became popular for R&B artists to fuck up the national anthem. Some of you may not have noticed, but the word land should take less than 15 seconds to sing and should contain 45 different notes.<br /><br />"...And the LAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaAAAAAANnnnnnnnnnnnnnNNNNnnnNNnNnnnnNNnnnddd"<br /><br />I can't argue that most of these performers have fantastic singing voices. Some are even phenomenal artists who write their own music. I'm not saying that these are talentless attempts to sing, I'm saying that I don't want to hear someone trying to 1-up Mariah Cary's 40 second vibrato of the word "free" by doing their own 45 second version, with twice as many pitch changes.<br /><br />So they have changed the notes, changed the tune, changed the timing... may as well complete the cycle and change the words too...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Oh, say, can ya see, by the sun's big bright light,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> What so proudly we saw at the twilight's gleam-gleaming?</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Whose broad stripes and bright stars, we put up a hell of a fight.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> For the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly ga-gleaming?</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> And the rockets' red glare, big ass bombs bursting in air,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Gave proof in the night that our flag was still there.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">UH HUH UH HUH!</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> O shit, does that star-spangled banner yet wave</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> For the land of the free and the home of my homies?</span>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-14990355574870504832009-01-28T16:49:00.004-05:002009-01-29T13:29:00.896-05:00F You Tom!Myspace has always had a love/hate relationship with it's users. People liked to use the site because it allowed them to connect, or stay in touch with, friends from all over the glob, but Mypace has never quite delivered on the promise of being a decent place to spend your time.<br /><br />Let's look at some of their failures up close:<br /><br /><ul><li>Blogs - I was always convinced that Myspace tossed in the blog tool simply because they read about it being a cool new tool that all the kids were using. They never put any time into actually making the tool useful. Or stable. When it wasn't "down for maintenance" they were making ridiculous changes that would ban you from trying to insert perfectly valid links to sites that you wanted people to see. No RSS feeds, no networks, not useful.<br /></li><li>SPAM - I have always felt that the SPAM problem on Myspace wasn't really that big of an issue to the people who run the site. Would anyone really be surprised if they found out that Myspace was making money off of the very same spammers they were pretending to stop? Sure you may read how Myspace sued a few spammers, but I wonder if they just went after the spammers who weren't giving them 10% of the cut.</li><li>Ads - Even their legitimate advertisers were an annoyance. Between the ads that made noises, forcing you to hit your mute button while at work, and the constant deluge of singles ads that insulted your intelligence - I was almost happy to see the BRIGHT BLINKY ANNOYING CLICK ME NOW ads!</li><li>Names - When I created my first account on Myspace 5 years ago I was really disappointed by their lack of maiden name support. How could I find an old friend of mine if she got married and changed her last name? I wrote to support and suggested this feature. I'm sure I wasn't the first to do so either. Yesterday, January 27th 2009, I got an email from Tom telling me that they finally have maiden name support. Wow that must have been a lot of work to put an extra freaking name field into the database and to toss the extra line of code into the profile editor. This is a perfect example of why Facebook is now kicking Myspace's ass.</li><li>Accessability - Unless you have a fairly new computer with a fairly decent connection, forget about Myspace. Their phone/portable version of the site is sloppy, poorly featured, and buggier than a homeless guy's groin. On slower computers their ads (see above) can slow you down to a standstill. (This is because they accept/use ads that use what is called "Alpha Channel" in their animations. Alpha'd stuff takes a BIG hit on your CPU.)<br /></li><li>Community - The biggest failure, in my book, was their total inability to help grow individual communities within the site itself. Say you wanted to talk to people from Tampa to find out some info about the town before you fly in for the Superbowl. Your only real choice is to find a group with the word "Tampa" in it and hope to find someone who actually reads their poorly designed groups. Then you could try to get some answer from them. Most people have given up on the groups, because again, they are poorly managed and nearly impossible to use.</li><li>Bands - I feel bad for the bands who try and use this shitty site to promote themselves. I mean yeah it's a great place to slap your music up, but have you ever seen what these poor bastards have to do to reach their fucking audience? They can't send a message to all of their friends. Nope. They can't invite more than 200 people to an event - and even that is painful. They can't count on anyone actually using the MySpace calendar because Myspace no longer cares about events or helping people find them. (If anyone disagrees with me here, please tell me the last time you used their calender to find something to do!)</li><li>Fuck Tom - Seriously. Change your goddamn picture. Stop sending me messages as if you are a real dude and not some poorly paid shift worker who was told to spam out a message to the users. Just dump the lie and fess up to being a 300 person company who spends most of your time sorta trying to fix the broken shit and ZERO percent of your time trying to make good tools.</li></ul>Thankfully, I'm not the only person who is done with Myspace. I started this blog a short while ago because I was fed up with their garbage. I'm using Facebook more and more because it's always up, because they have working tools that make sense. Because this blog can be RSS fed direclty into my Facebook profile as a note - and networked via their Blog Networker.<br /><br />Yeah sure I'll keep my Myspace page around. I still have my Friendster page up afterall.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-3135002951987098342009-01-26T11:47:00.006-05:002009-01-26T18:29:10.971-05:00Mythbust This...Dear Jamie & Adam,<br /><br />I have noticed that, in the past two seasons of Mythbusters, that you haven't really busted any myths.<br /><br />Let's be fair here, your James Bond specials were entertaining, but what you recreated at your M5 Studio wasn't really a myth, was it? I mean nobody seriously believed that most of the gadgets that Bond used were real. What's next? Are you going to bust Star Wars and tell us that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lightsabers</span> don't exist or that there is no way that two swinging logs could crush the head of a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ATST</span>.<br /><br />There have been a few episodes where you have built a gadget to see if it would really work, but that's not really a myth now is it? Like those anti-gravity devices - even the one that worked was clearly documented as an air-pusher years before you put it near the gravity field detector. Or the water stun gun? It wasn't a myth, it's a gadget that someone once tried to get working. You didn't really get it working either. Not a myth, sorry.<br /><br />Nor is it a myth when you find an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">internet</span> video and prove it real or fake. You once did an entire show on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">the Mentos</span>/Coke thing and yet any kid with $2.00 and a nearby grocery store could have told you that it wasn't a myth. Fine, you spun it to look like you were trying to show which chemicals were responsible for the reaction, but really, that's better suited for an episode of Good Eats than an episode of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Mythbusters</span>.<br /><br />So fine, we have established that you aren't really busting myths anymore...<br /><br />How about you do something interesting?<br /><br /><ul><li>Bigfoot! How about you settle this shit once and for all. Fake everything like you did with the moon landing special and then show us how easy or hard it would be to make up all of that evidence. Make comparisons between footprints from various periods and places and see if they are even close to being the same. Go out there and really nail this damn thing. Maybe blow up a Bigfoot suit at the end of the episode.</li><li><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Shamwow</span>, let's test this bastard out. What's it made of? Sheepskin like a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">chamois</span>? Synthetic fiber or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Bigfoot</span> fur? Does it really suck <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">orange</span> soda through carpeting and what applications would it have in the porno industry? Maybe get Kari involved in this during ratings sweeps week.<br /></li><li><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">UFO's</span> of course need looked at. Find some of those bastards who say that they have been abducted like, Whitley <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Streiber</span>, and hook them up to a lie detector. Maybe follow him around for a year so that when he writes, in his next book, about being abducted on July 15<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">th</span>, you can show the world your <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">spycam</span> footage of him bullshitting with his wife about how he's going to fake a good story for that night. Maybe put some lights up in the sky to see how many people say it's a UFO, and show people how easy it is to fake a UFO with, pretty much, anything that is round and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">throwable</span>.</li><li>Paris Hilton. Just why the fuck is she famous anyway? I don't know how you would test this but blowing her up at the end of the episode would be fucking brilliant!</li><li><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Mythbusters</span>! How about you expose some of the myths of the show itself. Like those scenes where you try something out in the field, then go back to M5, and then go back out in the field with something new - everyone is dressed the same. How about, on a show where you talk about the truth, you don't let your editors fuck with the timeline of how your week went? If Grant had his golfing machine out on the same day that they all drove balls manually- say so. Also those crappy little scripts that you invariably make <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Torri</span> read are unnecessary. Having him explain physics to us, as if he just thought that shit up himself, is an insult to our intelligence. Why not just use the announcer the way he was intended to be used?<br /></li><li><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Comcast</span>/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">FIOS</span>/Direct TV. The American people really need you to answer this debate once and for all. Who really does have the most <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">HD</span> channels? How much does <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Comcast</span> degrade their <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">HD</span> signal? Who has the most channels? Who has the best price? The winner gets to air parts of your episode as their <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">commerical</span>.</li><li>General <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Tso</span> - Where the hell do these people who own Chinese restaurants get trained to cook like that. The dishes that they cook up are NOT in any way related to what they would be cooking in China. Is there some big school for Chinese Restaurant Cooking where they can teach me how to count out exactly 5 shrimp per Triple Delight?</li><li>The Ghost Hunters - Wouldn't that just be the awesomeness? Adam and Jamie could go out and prove that The Ghost Hunters are full of shit. Maybe sit down and ask them, "If people see ghosts all of the time, why do you only film at night with the lights out? Is it because the loss of definition of a nightvision camera helps you make shit up?"<br /></li></ul>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-31354580670750102772009-01-21T15:42:00.005-05:002009-01-21T16:23:54.510-05:00It's Amazing I Ever Got Married (Stories 1 & 2)<span style="font-weight: bold;">STORY ONE</span><br /><br />Throughout high school I was known as a nerd. It was so bad that my long term girlfriend had to be from another school where nobody knew that I liked to play with computers. During one brief breakup I did date a girl from my school, but she was in Jr. High and had no idea about the intensity of disdain that most people viewed me with.<br /><br />So when I started hanging out at the mall or South Park it started to sink in as fact that as long as I talked to a girl who wasn't from Elizabeth Forward High School, I actually stood a chance at scoring a date with her. Because of the life-long ego-beating I was given, I never really set my sights too high and when I did I would invariably fuck things up.<br /><br />For instance there was Kelly.<br /><br />That's not her real name. I don't remember her real name.<br /><br />What happened was that one weekend while her parents were away I was invited to a party at her house with a few of my friends. We arrived and things were going well when drama strikes. I play the concerned guy, help to calm things down and Kelly hints that we should go out sometime. I jump on the chance without thinking things through. You see, if I had paused for a few minutes, I would have realized that she was way to hot for me.<br /><br />She was something along the lines of 5'4", beautiful face, great smile, wonderful tight 80's jeans and a rack that would make a moose jealous. Cheerleader, model, kind of intelligent too. I'm sure that right now, if I could remember her name and look her up, she's still freaking hot.<br /><br />Well my loser ass did not have a license, or a car, and she had to pick me up at my moms house. None of this turned her off, but she did ask that I drive back to the part of town where the movie theater is.<br /><br />About halfway to the theater, on a long and windy road, there stood a cocky groundhog on the white line of the road. Standing there - he looked right at me - our eyes connected and he didn't blink. Neither did I. I totally forglot about Kelly and the fact that we were on a date and that this is her car.<br /><br /> I plowed right over that mutherfucker.<br /><br />(As an aside, I'd like to say that killing things isn't cool. I was a retarded teenage kid then. I grew up being taught that the only good ground hog was the kind who used his body to feed the opossums. Now, I think it's stupid to kill something that you won't eat yourself.)<br /><br />Kelly screams, "Oh my god! You hit him on purpose didn't you?"<br /><br />At this point I still had an out. I could have said that I was trying to swerve or that I thought he was going to run to the left so I turned the wheel right. I could have lied...<br /><br />If you have read this far, you know I didn't. I told her the truth. She was upset and I tried dealing with it. We watched the movie and we drove home and she was ice cold to me. No kiss, no feel, no ever talking to her again. I went from uber geek loser in high school, to idiot redneck jerkwad with her circle of friends.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">STORY TWO</span><br /><br />I was living in Oakland at the time with someone who I'm sure would rather go unnamed. It was right before I got involved in my next long-term relationship and there wasn't much to do in the morning besides listen to crappy radio morning shows.<br /><br />The Rovolution (104.7) was having a Dating Game type of contest. I, having nothing better to do at that time of the morning, decided to call in. Asluck would have it I got on the show with my frist try.<br /><br />It was me, some other dude and a girl who had to pick between us. The prize was dinner, drinks and a limo ride all around Pittsburgh. I didn't care so much about the date, but the dinner and drinks sounded nice and what the heck maybe the girl would be cute.<br /><br />Well as the show goes on I'm stomping this guy's ass into the ground. His answers are boring and cliche. She laughed at all of my answers and asked me follow up questions. I had no doubt in my mind that this limo trip, and possibly the girl, were mine!<br /><br />That's when we went to commerical.<br /><br />We come back on the air and the DJ is hosting the "call in and help the girl pick" segment of the show. It goes pretty well with most of the girls picking me, that is until one girl gets on the phone and says something along these lines...<br /><br />"Oh my god. Nathaniel Beall? I went to school with him and he was such a nerd! He was all into computers and stuff. Dungeons and Dragons too I'm sure. Like the biggest nerd you could ever image. Revenge of the nerds type nerd. But with long nasty hair. Do not pick him, trust me!!!"<br /><br />I almost hung up right there.<br /><br />The DJ asked me if I had a response. I couldn't outright deny being a nerd. That would never play. The best I could do was be cool enough to cast doubt on this girl's version of reality.<br /><br />"I have no idea who that was, likely just another girl who I shot down."<br /><br />(Ohhh smooth huh? I'm not sure what's worse. Running over an innocent little animal, on purpose, while on a first date with a hottie, or uttering the typically stupid "She's just mad because she can't have my dick" comeback.)<br /><br />I was sunk. 15 seconds later she picked the other guy and yet again my loserdom was exposed to the world - only this time it's not a small circle of friends. It's the entire listening area of The Revolution radio station.<br /><br />I take solace in knowing that the girl from my HS, whoever she is, is likely on Facebook or Myspace now being the nerd she accused me of being.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-45596493276691147072009-01-20T18:56:00.002-05:002009-01-20T19:17:50.962-05:00I'm glad it's finally over...That's right folks - Bush is gone!!!<br /><br />I hope this means that people will stop being idiots because I am just really tired of seeing everyone get in their last shots on the man. It's like one big boring joke, spread across every user accessible site on the internet and the biggest problem is, the joke isn't new, original or very funny.<br /><br />Seriously, people have had 8 years to come up with good jokes or points about his leadership and the best I'm reading is something along the lines of "HE SUCKED SO BAD!!!"<br /><br />Yeah and Bush is the guy who can't speak in public very well.<br /><br />When I found out he got booed today at the Obama inauguration, I kind of felt sad for America. Have we really sunk so low as to boo a guy who is on his way out the door? I mean sure, disagree with every single policy he has come up with, from foreign to financial, but booing? BOOING?<br /><br />Then I heard people were singing, "Hey Hey Hey Goodbye"...<br /><br />*hangs head*<br /><br />Really? This is how you want to celebrate a victory? You want to act like a total unoriginal idiot who worshiped MTV's "Remote Control" in front of all the children who were brought to the nations Capital to see what it means to be an American?<br /><br />I'm not a fan of the guy. Never was. I'm glad he's gone and I'm very willing to give Obama a chance to really turn things around if he can.<br /><br />But wow can we, as a people, suck. I don't care who he or she is, I don't care if they vote and push for the one issue I have the strongest opinions about. I will respect the President of the United States of America and you can damn well bet I'll act that way in front of children too.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-7771483258130781592009-01-14T12:02:00.002-05:002009-01-14T12:14:38.595-05:00Luke Steelerstahl - IdiotSo Mayor Luke Ravenstahl is making an idiot of himself. Again.<br /><br />He is spreading around rumors that he is going to take the "Raven" out of his name and replace it with "Steeler" - for at least the next week or so. Luke Steelerstahl. Can't he just get to the point and change it to Luke Screwedpittsburghup.<br /><br />First, I'm embarrassed by anyone who would be ashamed of their own last name. I'm not sure what the Ravenstahl family has done, but I doubt that they were all douchebags that need to be remembered this way - by having a failure of a mayor, a successful pupput to Dan Onorato - slam his family heritage simply because it contains some of the same letters of a fairly good NFL team that the Steelers have already beaten twice.<br /><br />Second - fuck him. The Steelers don't need him to win on Sunday. In fact connecting his shitty mayoral record to their good name will only hurt. I mean how can anyone on that team play with pride when they are constantly being reminded that they are somehow tied, even if in name only, to someone who could have done good things with the city and utterly failed to change a single goddamn thing.<br /><br />Finally this rumor business... just change your name or not. Stop feeling out the media or the Steeler nation. I'm positive that if more people dump on this lame attempt to gain some popularity before his next election run, Luke is going to say that no, in fact, he isn't going to change his name and that it was all a rumor started by, well, someone mysterious who has contacts to all of the local news networks.<br /><br />Eat a dick Luke.<br /><br />For the actual article: <a href="http://kdka.com/steelers/Mayor.Ravenstahl.Steelerstahl.2.907975.html"><span style="font-style: italic;">http://kdka.com/steelers/Mayor.Ravenstahl.Steelerstahl.2.907975.html</span></a>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-48331419589438985472009-01-12T15:20:00.006-05:002009-01-13T16:28:54.207-05:00You Are Not Very ImportantI don't mean to insult any of you with the title of this post. In fact I am sure that there are several people in the world who think that you are very important, if not the most important, person in the world. I'm just saying that in the grand scheme of things you don't mean all that much.<br /><br />Which is why I am pretty sure that some of the bar owners (and managers) in Pittsburgh are dumber than a box of rocks, even if you add in the IQ of the box that the rocks came in.<br /><br />You see, all over Pittsburgh, on almost every night of the week, these idiots are holding VIP parties.<br /><br />I'm not sure that they know what a VIP is. It seems that if you can find, and read, their grammatically incorrect posts on Facebook or MySpace, that you too can become a VIP and be treated just like - well - everyone else who shows up on that particular night and pays the cover. Back when I started drinking that was what we called "being a customer."<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAWjHozjid_QG0DPF2Dfrjx-BQq9xWQCx0NRA_w189v2eE54L16oKAClLw_WvOMjPCN9IZnEe7vHvmhr1t3fuf3kJBSmJBKGq3Um6XIKeiO8UqJ1_2fI2_TUdTbTAFOGYrVlRIGfRGW8/s1600-h/r4thumb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAWjHozjid_QG0DPF2Dfrjx-BQq9xWQCx0NRA_w189v2eE54L16oKAClLw_WvOMjPCN9IZnEe7vHvmhr1t3fuf3kJBSmJBKGq3Um6XIKeiO8UqJ1_2fI2_TUdTbTAFOGYrVlRIGfRGW8/s320/r4thumb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290511694137600594" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I can only imagine what it would be like to be a real VIP. I mean sure I own a Nightlife / Community website that generated over 8.5 million page views last year (we beat wpxi.com) and I get treated pretty well almost everywhere I go. No cover, free drinks, all-access... But I am pretty damn positive that whenever a minor celebrity like Rumor Willis walks into a bar, that she (and her freaky mutant Rocky Dennis head) get actual VIP treatment.<br /><br />I can picture it now. Rumor shuffles in, dragging her foot behind her. She sees the candles set out on the bar and starts screaming, "Gahhhhhh!" Three Jr. Assistant Shift Leaders run out and blow out every candle in the bar for her. Frankenstein's Monster is placated and orders her first drink. If she ordered braised puppy with fart sauce they would kill the dog, eat some beans and make it for her. She's not even a real celebrity! She's the product of Bruce Willis and that fake tittied girl who killed her career in the movie "Striptease."<br /><br />So listen up Pittsburgh. Reading an invite on the internet, even if it was emailed directly to you via a bulk email list, does not make you a VIP. VIPs, even the lumpy headed Hulk Hogan lookalike above, get treated much better than you or I do. They don't pay for drinksm ever. They don't wait in line. They don't have to worry about the dress code. They don't have to do the fake-lesbian dance to get attention from the everyone in the bar.<br /><br />"Hey, look over there!!!"<br />"What, beyond the two Mon-valley girls making out to try and get free drinks - say isn't that RUMOR WILLIS???"<br /><br />I don't care if you paid $300 for a $40 bottle of vodka and have your own table. First off you can't buy VIP status. Second, you can buy bottle service, but you can't make yourself important. In fact I know for a fact that Ben Roethlisberger rarely pays for drinks, let alone $300 for some stinkin Rain Vodka.<br /><br />So please Pittsburgh - patrons and owners - stop the stupidy.<br /><br />You look dumber than Rumor Willis.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-54612910791328348562009-01-12T12:21:00.003-05:002009-01-12T12:48:20.986-05:00Delete Your Friends And Get FatAs an individual who works in the advertising/marketing field I actually enjoy a good commerical. The company that came up with the songs for freecreditreport.com may have annoyed the hell out of you, but they really put the product out there in a very big way.<br /><br />One company that has always had the wow factor going for them is Burger King.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Z6xYRPQhl6NDPkddgdNy98Lt5jozCqMl2txRFNKYu0h0K2TcHLmQBREBW6eoNg1Oq8Pb57KJNYNdtYpldgdJ5Du5RC5Jrpl8wQZLh2MgPR85a9EBwJmrecoNReRNeo8b2CFzFNrH218/s1600-h/burger-king.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 118px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Z6xYRPQhl6NDPkddgdNy98Lt5jozCqMl2txRFNKYu0h0K2TcHLmQBREBW6eoNg1Oq8Pb57KJNYNdtYpldgdJ5Du5RC5Jrpl8wQZLh2MgPR85a9EBwJmrecoNReRNeo8b2CFzFNrH218/s320/burger-king.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290464300574749938" border="0" /></a>They are the people who brought you the <a href="http://www.subservientchicken.com/">Subservient Chicken</a>. They took their mascot and transformed him into a creepy plastic headed freak. Maybe that never struck you as a brave thing to do, but just think about it for a minute. Think about Wendy's taking their cute little redhead mascot and turning her into a evil undead zombie. "Where's the brains....."<br /><br />I think that they do all of this in an effort to make you forget that there is no such thing as a clean looking Burger King. I've been in BK's all over this great nation and have yet to find a table that wasn't stickier than Traci Lords in the 80's.<br /><br />Anyway - now BK has done it again with one of the most original marketing campaigns I've seen all year! Yes I am aware that it is only January...<br /><a href="http://www.whoppersacrifice.com/"><br />http://www.whoppersacrifice.com/</a><br /><br />Click this link, install the app, and delete 10 of your friends. Ta-Da! Free Whopper!<br /><br />Think about it - all of the sudden your ex-boyfriend who added you on MySpace and then followed you to Facebook can finally have a use. That dude who used to work with you that keeps asking how things are going and telling you that you are stupid for staying can now have a pay off. That one night when you were drunk and thought it would be funny to add <a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/s.php?q=donavan%20freberg">that annoying kid from the Encyclopedia Britannica Commericals</a>... well, that's just fucked up, but you can delete his nerdy ass and get some free points towards your next cardiac arrest!Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-84674028001435833192009-01-07T11:58:00.002-05:002009-01-07T14:44:50.639-05:00Porno...Located on the border of New Eagle and Monongahela, Videos Unlimited, was the best video store in the entire Mon Valley. They always had the newest titles, they would often forget about late charges, the owner was a really nice guy and they had one hell of a good porno section!<br /><br />I don't remember the title of the first porn I ever rented, but what I do remember is not having to worry about what I was about to watch. All I wanted, and all I saw, was good old American fucking.<br /><br />I wasn't a regular but I'm sure I rented a good 20 titles during my Monongahela years. Every single video had a weak plot, too much oral, and some average looking sex acts. Nothing over the top, except perhaps an anal scene, and that was that.<br /><br />Now I find it practically impossible to rent a porn - and here is why:<br /><br /><ul><li>Spitting - Every single porn you rent these days will have a scene with someone spitting on someone else's genitals. I even saw one porn where a girl spit on her own junk. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind a little saliva here and there, but these people are spitting up several ouces of throat-juice and hocking them at perfectly nice reproductive organs.<br /></li><li>Editing - I understand that porn is a fairly low-budget thing, but I get bored quickly while looking at the same scene for 20 minutes. It's like they have only one guy with one camera and no ability to edit out the boring stuff. Granted, this wasn't too different in the 80's, but now that they can edit the entire movie on a $500 Mac Mini there is no excuse.<br /></li><li>Slappy Slappy - I've been with my fair share of women and I have yet to see a girl, in real life, slap herself on the clit in an attempt to make herself, or me, hot. Just - just - OUCH! Stop it. I don't care if the "actress" is numb down there from years of cock pounding abuse. This is about the customer, not her. She can go bash herself in the cookie with a frying pan after the filming stops.<br /></li><li>Plot & Acting - Back in the 80's the plot usually consisted of 3 sentences before the fucking got started. Now they actually take 10 minute breaks between the sex scenes - which is fine. Just stop giving these types of jobs to "actors" who can't act. One non-sex scene involved an actressing talking about the philosophy of love and I couldn't help but think what idiot was behind the camera thinking, "Oh yes, very good!"<br /></li><li>Shutup - Shutup - Shutup - Hearing a girl moan the same thing over and over again 3000 times is not hot. Actually hearing a girl moan during an entire sex act is annoying. The last movie I watched had a girl make a hungry growing noise when she went down on a guy. Hey cool... but she did it the entire time she was on him. SHUT UP. (Worse is when they overdub the moaning so it's twice as loud, and the audio doesn't come close to matching the video.)</li><li>Music - Again, back in the 80's there was some sort of excuse for horrible music but at least they didn't play the same 20 second loop over and over again. This is 2009 and we have an entire MySpace full of bands who would love to get paid $100 to have their music used in a porno.</li><li>Licking The Toys - If a girl is using a toy on herself or on someone else she must lick it. Before, during and after. She does this as if the toy is a real penis and she is giving it pleasure. To me it comes off as mentally defective. "Mmm toy, must lick rubber toy.... yum!!"</li></ul>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-3299593588857580112008-12-26T12:51:00.002-05:002008-12-26T15:25:36.751-05:00My Predictions For 2009<ol><li>Jesus will not show up, again, in 2009. However his cousin Ernie will come to Earth and give to mankind the gift of an all new type of french fry. Christianity will be safe from nay-sayers for another thousand years.<br /> </li><li>Aliens will finally make themselves known. At first we will greet them with open arms, but by the end of the year they will reveal themselves to be more annoying than our one uncle at the xmas party this year who kept talking about his new job and how much more money he makes now. In December we will pretend that we forgot to text our alien "friends" before going to the bar with everyone else.</li><li>Being forced to ditch his Blackberry, Barack Obama will have a device created especially for him. It will historically known as the first half-blackberry in the White House. </li><li>Amy Winehouse will overdose on drugs and die. The media will take, and publish, photos of her corpse for weeks before anyone notices that she is dead.</li><li>There will be some big storms that will kill people who do not leave when the police order them to evacuate. The news will report on a saddened nation, when in reality, the nation is pretty happy to be rid of it's genetic drift.</li><li>Your toothbrush will be obsolete. There will be a new toothbrush with a bit of plastic on it that does something your old brush could never have done. Holy shit were you dumb for buying that piece of crap. You should buy this new toothbrush. It's the best ever!!!</li><li>KISS vocalist Paul Stanley will come out of the closet and admit that he is gay. KISS fans everywhere will be shocked. Elton John will remind the world he was once married to a woman too.<br /> </li><li>The world will rise up as a united people and track down, and hen kill, the handful of people who actually buy hard-on pills because a SPAM email message told them to do so. </li><li>Apple will release a new phone called the f-uPhone. It will work just like a regular iPhone only it will be able to detect whenever someone calls you from a non-Apple phone and instead of putting them through to you it will berate them for being second-class citizens.<br /> </li><li>The most popular diet craze of 2009 will be having your jaw broken every time you mention that you need to go on a diet. So, on January 1st, when you have convincingly lied to yourself about getting in shape, the first person you mention this fact to will punch you so hard in the face that you will have to eat Jell-o through a straw. Right around the time you get you jaw unwired it will be time to trim up for swimsuit season, earning you another broken jaw, which should carry you right through to Thanksgiving. <br /> </li></ol>Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-30274203313127589842008-12-15T12:13:00.003-05:002008-12-16T16:21:09.847-05:00Mr. McFeelySix months ago I was trying to figure out what I wanted to be for Halloween this year. Over the years I have not had very many stand-out costumes, so this year I really wanted to wear something that nobody else would think of, and I also wanted to be someone that everyone at the party would recognize. I had several ideas, some I may even use some day, but late one night while falling asleep it hit me, Mr. McFeely.<br /><br /><br />I mean think about it - not only could I pull that off, but it would be comfortable, people would recognize me and as a bonus the name "McFeely" opened me up for a few perverted jokes right?<br /><br />The costume was a hit. Almost everyone seemed to love the it. A few were too young perhaps to really identify with the character the way I could, but it didn't matter. McFeely was a winner!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1gUY6MXtgNGncPtsmUkHpkK0JW29w6WBMzFUUqJAaiwwW2HctGVl28MDErVZ83PJYI1gOb4v0dq5ctDUJ5O749l2PR_8-ZlljdzKvH2JJJ70CKp0bxkqTdbtGUXVDNBs0IWqmRBvY0ok/s1600-h/MeMcFeely.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 162px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1gUY6MXtgNGncPtsmUkHpkK0JW29w6WBMzFUUqJAaiwwW2HctGVl28MDErVZ83PJYI1gOb4v0dq5ctDUJ5O749l2PR_8-ZlljdzKvH2JJJ70CKp0bxkqTdbtGUXVDNBs0IWqmRBvY0ok/s320/MeMcFeely.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280076034409998594" border="0" /></a>Flash forward to this past Saturday... I was out Christmas shopping with the wife. As we walked past the bookstore I saw a sign up for some local sports writer selling yet-another-Pittsburgh-sports-book. (One of my favorite things to see are these guys out for a book signing only to find out that next to nobody cares to meet them or have them sign a book.) So, when I noticed there were a few people crowded around the table I was a little confused... that was until my wife said, "Look, it's Mr. McFeely."<br /><br />I felt like a dork but I had to stand in line. I dressed up as this guy for Halloween and god dammit I was gonna shake his hand and tell him that he was a hit at my party. When my turn came he looked up at me and. I don't know if it was him, or if it were all the memories pouring back in my head, but I swear to god I felt like a little kid again.<br /><br />He seemed geniunely happy to meet me. He loved hearing about how I chose to be him this year and insisted we take a picture of the two of us together. He looked at the picture on my iPhone, said we needed a better one and Jamie took a second picture. He asked me to email him pictures of me in my Mr. McFeely costume. He was just one of the warmest, coolest guys you could ever imagine. He didn't even really ask me to buy his children's book, but I did and he signed it for me. I walked into the bookstore, allowing the people behind me to have their time alone with a legend.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXV-VfHY2M4DjmAbbTtLYqpZYcK3QOt-6gmiSPQM9UiK24_R7pOa3DKBs27q7TXvu6O_h7s2el3A7jdZv248eLFaLQeO41PmkFXK8BExk1SDvfX4oi6U8D8pATdxO9_-OtPOH8GWdDDWo/s1600-h/me&mcfeely.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXV-VfHY2M4DjmAbbTtLYqpZYcK3QOt-6gmiSPQM9UiK24_R7pOa3DKBs27q7TXvu6O_h7s2el3A7jdZv248eLFaLQeO41PmkFXK8BExk1SDvfX4oi6U8D8pATdxO9_-OtPOH8GWdDDWo/s320/me&mcfeely.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280075329694026594" border="0" /></a>But it didn't end there. I was listening to people all over the bookstore talking about this moment in their lives, their voices just filled with excitment. Couples were exchanging childhood memories, and parents were talling their children how this old guy was cooler than Bratz and Ben 10.<br /><br />I couldn't help but think that Santa Claus was downstairs for the little kids and Mr. McFeely was up here for the adults who did not always remember that they were still children to somebody.<br /><br />Yes, Nathaniel, there really is a Mr. McFeely.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-29316461953976586012008-11-19T16:31:00.001-05:002008-11-19T16:31:26.313-05:00Outing Pittgirl - Full Name and PicturesAs many of you know, Pittgirl quit posting her amazingly popular blog, The Burgh Blog. Why? Because she found out that if someone searched hard enough that they could piece together enough clues and find out who she was - which could then endanger her job, and likely force her to water down her articles into the low-end pablum you see in print media today. (Oh my god you can really save money with coupons? Do we need to see that fucking story again???)<br /><br />Then I thought to myself, "She quit so what do we have to lose?" In thinking further I also remembered that she never bought me a single beer, so fuck it. Since I like a good puzzle I thought I would put on my Sherlock Cap and sleuth out the info before City Paper decided to turn it into another shitty cover story with a lame pun inspired headline. "Cyberspaced! We ID The Anonymous Blogger"<br /><br />I knew the first thing that I had to do was to go through her entire archive of posts and to pick apart every detail on her personal life that I could find. Unfortunately, she took down every post on the site... so I have to go with what the genius "legit" press is saying about her. Reading every article that I could find, I managed to dig up some key facts. 1 - Pittgirl is a she. 2 - Pittgirl hates pidgeons. 3 - Pittgirl loves Pittsburgh. 4 - Pittgirl wrote blogs about stuff and then quit. 5 - Pittgirl had a more fans than Bubba's Shitty Morning Show on B94 (tm). Really, who the fuck listens to that moron?<br /><br />Ok - Let's stick with facts 1. Pittgirl is a female. Being female I can deduce that her name is unlikely to be Bruce, Timmy or Arthur. Applying some higher thinking than most men, and applying Occam's Razor, I have come to the conclusion that her first name is Rachel. Why Rachel you may ask? Because Friend's was a really popular show and most chicks I know want to be, if they had a choice of the 3 females on that show, Rachel.<br /><br />Now I need to worry about the last name... Pittgirl lives in Pittsburgh. That rules out nice sounding last names like McDermot, Jeremy and Obama. No, if she's a true Pittsburgher her last name has to be something fucked up like Wizenjowski. In fact, after a solid 5 minutes of medatation and consulting my Magic 8 Ball - I'm positive her last name really is Wizenjowski.<br /><br />Rachel Ray Wizenjowski.<br /><br />I don't need any more of the facts now do I?<br /><br />What I do need, however, is a picture!<br /><br />Thank you google image search. One quick search, letting google correct my spelling, and scolling down 1/2 a page, I found the face of Pittgirl!!!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidLYqFj8sydn6toR5oS2Y4AlYAOEnRGmo5GdIJXuCCRge7x42Ybzhnd3OIRgVzhaUVYKi7Xr0HUS_Xv0jPQVb_hC8VsX6fBLEgDeIQelmVJLQcZq8wg11Dj_K8YTVATEqTkwSbQgWuMYk/s1600-h/CRISISa-carvillecu-thumbnail.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 216px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidLYqFj8sydn6toR5oS2Y4AlYAOEnRGmo5GdIJXuCCRge7x42Ybzhnd3OIRgVzhaUVYKi7Xr0HUS_Xv0jPQVb_hC8VsX6fBLEgDeIQelmVJLQcZq8wg11Dj_K8YTVATEqTkwSbQgWuMYk/s320/CRISISa-carvillecu-thumbnail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270451863516625602" border="0" /></a><br />Not the pretties girl, I admit, but what did you expect of a nerd girl yinzer? Cummon, look at that face! Can't you see it grinning evilly as it directs a foot towards a pidgeon? I can. It's pretty fucking scary actually.<br /><br />Ok, seriously, I mostly wrote this blog to fuck with the idiots out there who are actually going to search for info that they now lknow is out there. With any luck I just entertained a few friends and fucked with a bunch of retards that needed fucking with. You shitmules should be ashamed of yourselves.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-61471657091965683932008-10-28T16:47:00.005-04:002008-10-28T17:43:45.386-04:00I hates me the winter...My good friend Art recently posted a blog... <a href="http://pheh.wordpress.com/2008/10/28/the-weather-may-be-frightful"> http://pheh.wordpress.com/2008/10/28/the-weather-may-be-frightful</a> that got my brain ticking.<br /><br />I fucking hate winter. I hate the cold. I hate cold fingers, cold ears, a cold nose and shivering. I really fucking hate fucking shivering. I hate going to bed at night in my chilly little bedroom and taking my cloths off and shivering for 5 minutes under the covers to pay for the 3 seconds I spent naked without clothes or blankets.<br /><br />I hate shoveling my walk. I hate digging my car out from the snow. I really hate digging my car out from the snow that the plow guy humorously piled up over top of my hood. HE HE YOU FUCKING PRICK!<br /><br />I hate those ugly grey days when everything, and I mean everything, is grey and shitty and bland and boring.<br /><br />But Art reminded me that as a kid winter was something else, wasn't it?<br /><br />I mean first off, when I was a kid I'd pray for snow. I wasn't even picky about the god I'd pray too either. I'm sure I made up a snow god and prayed to him and offered him human sacrifice if only he could make it snow long enough so that a) school would get canceled and b) I could build snow tunnels all over the neighborhood like some secret underground military base.<br /><br />The first prayer was sometimes answered! Not often enough for me, but on occasion we could get a 5 day weekend. What did we do with our 5 days off? We played out in the snow... all day, every day. If we weren't sledding down Sullivan's back yard, we were building snow forts and planning snow battles.<br /><br />I remember one winter I was determined to build an igloo. Of course the snow wasn't good enough for the kind of igloo you see on TV, but it was good enough to roll up 4 massive snowman-base sized balls, push them near each other and then pack in the empty space until it looked like an igloo. The rest of the day was spent hollowing out the giant snow dome... and you know, once it was done, it was actually pretty damn warm in side. (So warm in fact, I made another one a few years later and my GF at the time (you read about her) and I can now say we had sex in an igloo.)<br /><br />However I still remember there was something about the snow in my childhood that I really hated...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTASTMj8jPyPoKnYvvJxNY-bDTKIqa_xky88nkoKobRZsfS1ZR3TNkCCBG3RA-rJn2J6jYWOP6TeXn_uO7oCqhjqro0LEE0GE2QjhYI_RAkj_fKyKKqGKCuuHEBtrOF0LEaiw5PxNkv4/s1600-h/Sorel-Mens-1964-Pac-T-Snow-Boot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTASTMj8jPyPoKnYvvJxNY-bDTKIqa_xky88nkoKobRZsfS1ZR3TNkCCBG3RA-rJn2J6jYWOP6TeXn_uO7oCqhjqro0LEE0GE2QjhYI_RAkj_fKyKKqGKCuuHEBtrOF0LEaiw5PxNkv4/s320/Sorel-Mens-1964-Pac-T-Snow-Boot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262319179828397666" border="0" /></a>It was this particular brand of snow boot that looked a lot like the one above, only there were no laces - just this weird metal clasps that rarely stayed closed. The insulation wasn't furry looking, in fact, it looked a lot like old carpet padding. They weren't really waterproof either, so I had to first put my feet into bread bags and then into the boot.<br /><br />Those things sucked sooo bad that when moon boots came out, I thought they were a gift from the Snow God. "You have suffered long enough Young Nathaniel, here - Moon Boots!"<br /><br />But even with the sucky boots - it was a good time.... just a blur of memories.<br /><br />The neighbors small pond freezing over, 3 of us barely fitting on it to "skate" in our sneakers, until Brian Stoddard pushed me and I broke the ice with my face. Which was fine because when I got home Buck Rogers had a new episode on that night anyway.<br /><br />Coming home at like 10:00 at night and noticing the absolute silence. No birds. No cars anywhere. No kids out playing and screaming. Nobody in the world but me.<br /><br />My brothers and I helping to push cars up Riverhill Rd where a fire hydrant was leaking and freezing out on to the road. When my brother started to collect tips from the people we helped, I remembered his grabbing the monkey wrench from my dads tools earlier in the evening.<br /><br />Leaving the first foot print somewhere... or better yet leaving tracks that would confuse people by walking backwards in my own tracks, or jumping back into an area where there was no snow to leave tracks in.<br /><br />That smell... sometimes the smell of nothing. Sometimes the smell of wood fireplaces, sometimes the smell of coal. Ya know, this is something most people don't even know they miss, but coming home the other day someone must have had a coal fired stove and I caught a whiff and remember that's how ALL winters used to smell before they closed up every factory in the Mon Valley.<br /><br />But hey - we get older don't we? Soon the snow becomes a reason your parents won't take you to the mall to hang out with your buddies, or the threat of snow becomes the reason you can't borrow the car. Snow becomes a hindrance and more and more of your friends would rather stay in alone rather than get together and play a game of AD&D over some hot chocolate. <br /><br />Maybe I don't hate winter as much as I hate being an adult.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-46237263489864106342008-10-27T16:32:00.002-04:002008-10-27T16:46:53.744-04:00Dead FriendsOddly enough I'd thought about my dead friends on three different occasions today and for totally different reasons. I'm talking about the really dead friends and not the people who only show up in your life when it's not too hard on them... Listed in no particular order.<br /><br />Chuck - He was really one of the good ones - just a great guy to be around, talk to and joke with. He was, I think, the first friend I had who faced the unknown. It hit me fairly hard because Chuck wasn't much older than me.<br /><br />Mike AKA Fast Fingers - I used to talk to this guy all the time on the phone back when I was exploring phone systems and hacking. He was really a smart guy who taught me what it was to live with a handicap. Mike was blind and in no way did it ever change who he was... well not until Diabetes took him.<br /><br />Ron - What can I say about Ron. Ron is the reason I can never be a racist. Ron is the reason I look for the best in everyone. Ron also is a fairly often inspiration to not talk in a negative way about anyone - even when they deserve it. Rob was an amazing influence on my life for as little as we actually saw each other.<br /><br />Amy - Amy was a funeral home director who paled around with us local nerds. She showed us her home and she showed us the business and she and I got close for a while... when my dad died I went to her to find out what to expect and see if we should trust our local funeral home people. She made it a lot easier on me... she died herself not even 10 years after she started her business.<br /><br />Rat - Like Mike, I knew Rat well but never actually met him. He is the reason I bothered to read Abbie Hoffman, he's a big reason I try to think of things in fun-value, and he is the reason I know it's ok to try and stay young. Rat and I talked several times after he found out he had cancer and then one day I realized I hadn't heard from him in a while. I did some research and finally found friends of his on MySpace who told me how amazingly well he went out. Until the very end he made plans for the next day.<br /><br />I just wanted to step back and thank those who have been with me all this time, even if not in body and maybe get you to think about your dead friends as well.Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-48246789225361543092008-10-24T11:35:00.001-04:002008-10-24T12:04:19.197-04:00Are You Hot?<span style="font-size:130%;"><br />I found this ad on Myspace today... </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn0A20jZ-DqeJwl2sJ4QrGJSsxk-lCYe-5pVLu6SOfZybRnSw_nT57_Od3txZMRB6TvvaXphpvSvmrd0zXGmk5nAbuW7kbkGelpj2eOUb4qJi1aNv4C-IQTrcoxtPi6ZhbFJDGfUIJIkc/s1600-h/bbda4327842d0d62d73f7ef7d742f99e_final.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn0A20jZ-DqeJwl2sJ4QrGJSsxk-lCYe-5pVLu6SOfZybRnSw_nT57_Od3txZMRB6TvvaXphpvSvmrd0zXGmk5nAbuW7kbkGelpj2eOUb4qJi1aNv4C-IQTrcoxtPi6ZhbFJDGfUIJIkc/s320/bbda4327842d0d62d73f7ef7d742f99e_final.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260744544048534690" border="0" /></a><br />I am not hot. In fact I think guys who say that they are hot are actually using some sort of gay code for closeted individuals to secretly identify themselves to other potential homosexuals. <span style="font-style: italic;">[[standard 'not that there is anything wrong with that' disclaimer]]</span><br /><br />But here is the thing. Suppose I was a fairly good looking single male interested in meeting real people. I've met some fake people and I have to tell you that, unlike fake boobs, the novelty of hanging out with fake people wears thin after a few weeks. You're like, "Hey, pass me the sports section" and they are like, well, they are like - not there. They aren't real. If you ask them to pitch in on a keg of beer, you get zero dollars. Fake people suck.<br /><br />Right there - the ad has me. I prefer real people.<br /><br />But there is more, I can also meet people near me. That's just awesome because people who aren't near me are harder to meet. I mean yeah I could possibly make semi-regular trips Toronto to hang out with my new real person but I would be far less likely to go to Lichtenstein every weekend.<br /><br />So hey this site seems pretty cool. Meeting real-unfake people that are near-not far away.<br /><br />And yet, even pretending I'm single I don't want to click on the ad.<br /><br />What could it be? What is stopping me from clickely clicking that innocent, simply worded, advertisement that promises so very much?<br /><br />Oh there it is - THAT CHICK IS FUCKING ULGY.<br /><br />"Hi my name is Tammy, and I prefer white trailer homes to brown trailer homes. I wear hoop earings so I have a place to rest my feet shild servicing the local pool hall player who can afford to buy me the most drinks. Budweiser only. I play pool too and can shoot an entire game without every taking the cigarette out of my mouth. I like walks on the beach and mowing the lawn in a tube top. I was once told I was hot by a guy with a camera and he convinced me to model. I think I should have shaved my puss-puss a little more carefully that day but I like the pictures anyway. Too bad the bruises on my legs and back show up in all of them. I like that Earl show because it's sooo true!"<br /><br />Is that really the kind of girl you want to represent your dating site? Maybe. I suppose. Maybe the typical myspacian is into crabs, warts and herpes. I don't know. What I do know is that if I ever find myself single and looking for a real nearby friend, I'm not clicking on any ads that look like that.<br /><br />(P.S. Bravo to the guy who made the ad. He must have spent minutes with MS Paint to do something of that quality!)Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-83315423934525919672008-10-23T17:17:00.004-04:002008-12-16T16:19:59.457-05:00My First Sex ActsThis one is a bit, umm personal... I like <a href="http://www.tuckermax.com/">Tucker Max</a> stories, and while I can't say this is influenced by him I like to read his stuff because it reminds me of myself when I was young... take this story for instance:<br /><br />Believe it or not I was not always married. In fact I was not always in my 30's either... in fact there was a point in my life was I was 15 years old and beginning the first of my long term relationships.<br /><br />She was an awesome girlfriend. She put up with so much crap over the nearly 4 years we were together that if I could go back in time to 1986, and shoe myself right in the taint for all the shit I was about to put her through, I would. You betcha.<br /><br />We met in front of McDonald's, exchanged numbers at Sheetz and a few hours later we were making out in front of a used car lot that has closed, and opened and closed again several times over. I'm not sure which one of those items is a metaphor for our relationship, but I'd like to think that the term "Special Sauce" is in there somewhere. (Keep Reading...)<br /><br />After 2 days of seeing each other I finally convinced her to take her pants off for me. She was playing the typical teenage hard-to-get game and even with my limited experience, I was able to outsmart her.<br /><br />ME: "Hey can I ummm see your bush?" (Classy guy right?)<br />HER: "What? No. I'm not that kind of girl."<br />ME: "No no, I know you aren't, but you are my girlfriend and I've always wondered what blonde public hair looks like."<br />HER: "Well... ok. But you can't touch."<br />ME: "I promise."<br /><br />Here is my advice to all teenage lovers out there. Guys, when a girl takes her pants off in front of you, you can always do more than just look. Gals, if a guy says "I promise" remember that the phrase you just heard is actually an incomplete sentence and you have no idea what you were just promised.<br /><br />Example:<br /><br />Girlfriend: "Tell me that you will never cheat on me!"<br />Boyfriend: "I promise!"<br />Inside Voice of Boyfriend: "I promise to tell you that I will never cheat on you."<br /><br />That, was another conversation that my girlfriend and I had, but I'll save that for another day when I don't have anything topical to blog about.<br /><br />That was the first time we had oral sex. Or rather, that's the first time I gave her oral sex. Remember, she wasn't that kinda girl. It took me 2 full weeks to work my way all the way into her pants... Which is unfair to say because she wasn't wearing any pants that night. She was sleeping out on the back porch with her Liz - who just happened to be dating my friend Kirk. So what were we to do while Kirk and Liz were in the same double-wide sleeping bag as us having sex? Liz WAS that kind of girl... goddamn Kirk.<br /><br />An interesting thing about a guy is that when he first starts nailing a girl, he is just so happy to be getting some that he will go week or months before even hinting that maybe they should mix it up a little and try some new positions or non-standard sex acts.<br /><br />My first deviant suggestion was titty fuck.<br /><br />Why titty fuck? Because I saw it in a porno. It looked kinda fun, and so far I had not succeeded on getting my spooge anywhere near her mouth, face or hair. I figured that this was the perfect end-run since the old BJ was way too obvious a tactic.<br /><br />(Why do guys want to get spooge in those places? Because girl's who "aren't like that" don't want spooge anywhere near those areas. No other reason is necessary. They say no, we make it a target.)<br /><br />So with a little convincing my girlfriend agrees to go with the titty fuck. I think my line of logic was... "It'll feel really good and there is no way I can get you pregnant!"<br /><br />The only problem was that she was a small B cup.<br /><br /><img src="http://www.cosmeticsurgery.com/images/article_imgs/227/BreastLipoBefore.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(not her)</span><br />Not that there is anything wrong with B cups.<br /><br />I honestly did not know how hard it would be for her to push her boobs together close enough for there to be enough boob meat to touch my wiener. God bless her though, she tried. She even did the hand over top of of the wiener trick to keep it down in the valley of her non cleavage. About 2 minutes later we just gave up and I was monkey jerking it with the exit hole pointed right at her face.<br /><br />I made mime-like motions for her to open her mouth and she wasn't going for it. I don't know why I didn't just tell her, in words, to open up... maybe I thought that was just crude or something. I don't know. But an even shorter while later I was ruining what had to be one of the cutest blonde 80's feathered haircuts ever worn by a girl in the Mon Valley.<br /><br />She didn't even break up with me. I told you, she was awesome.<br /><br />So about a year later we have done all the fun sex things that teens do, except one. The dirty hole.<br /><br />I know what you are thinking. It was my idea. But I assure you that it was not. Or at least it wasn't my idea at the time that it actually happened. I was not the guy to bring it up. I'm positive I asked her several times if I could put my bologna in her turd cutter and I'm positive that each and every time I asked she said I could just fuck off and die instead.<br /><br />(After a year of dating me, kind and innocent girls tend to be a little more foul-mouthed.)<br /><br />We were laying in bed reading porn ads. (I used to steal them from my brother as it was hard to get your hands on real porn when you were 16 and the internet wasn't invented yet.) She was looking at the section of videos that specialized in anal sex. Each video tape had a little picture of a little woman getting a big dick shoved in her pooper. I guess that when she looked at those pictures, instead of seeing faces filled with pain, she saw girls having a great time!<br /><br />Take this picture for instance...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlBWv7v3WeCu3WBW5SgfYiwUPJXInrkwIjrRqmteVjoaKCa6eVDRwBWuJoz327eLc3UEWjDNbFkJ9hQ58TVoqnClGCQQcu4Ei1MYCXbQ5bekVOal2EP61oUBGj7tssMom4vxwcv8wEnc/s1600-h/MallMadness2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 195px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlBWv7v3WeCu3WBW5SgfYiwUPJXInrkwIjrRqmteVjoaKCa6eVDRwBWuJoz327eLc3UEWjDNbFkJ9hQ58TVoqnClGCQQcu4Ei1MYCXbQ5bekVOal2EP61oUBGj7tssMom4vxwcv8wEnc/s320/MallMadness2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280432214374102050" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Look at that girl's face. Looks like that girl is having fun doesn't it? Now imagine that exact same smile on a girl with a giant cock in her ass? Now it looks like she is biting down hard to fight back some quality horror movie style screaming doesn't it?<br /><br />(Another reason I bring up this board game is that Kirk and I worked at a toy store one winter and she was, by far, the hottest chick on a board game cover in that store. I think he once took the game into the bathroom during a break... Ok maybe that was me.)<br /><br />Back to the anal sex...<br /><br />My girlfriend paused in her porno perusing and looked up at me...<br /><br />HER: "Do you wanna, ummm..."<br />ME: "What-havesex-yes." (I didn't use commas when asked about having sex.)<br />HER: "Yeah, sorta, I mean like different?"<br />ME: "Like what are you talking about?"<br />HER: "You know..."<br />ME: "Huh?"<br /><br />It's amazing how stupid guys can sound when talking about sex with a girl... even if it's a girl that they have already drained gallons of cum in or on. I think the reason for this is that we don't want to spoil anything that she may have been offering! Like, what if we say the wrong thing (which we are good at) and she was just about to ask if she could invite her friend Allison over for a 3-some? Sorry but any real man will play dumb and let her spell it out when involved in conversations like this.<br /><br />HER: "Like that thing you want to do..."<br />ME: "I want to do lots of things."<br />HER: "In the umm ahh butt..."<br /><br />Natually I'm all for this? Why am I all for this? Because until that very day, she had banned me from putting my dong in her poop-basket and now it was more of a matter of pride than a matter of getting off. It's the same reason some douchbag risked his life to climb Mt. Everest. Nobody else had been there.<br /><br />So I strip down nude, get behind her, and she stops me...<br /><br />HER: "Do you have umm any lube?"<br />ME: "You have been having sex with me for over a year now. Have you ever seen any?"<br />HER: "No. Could we use butter?"<br />ME: "Hell yeah. If it's good enough for pankcakes, it's good enough for mudd flaps!"<br /><br />I run down the stairs, grab the butter out of the fridge and run back up to my bedroom with stick in hand... actually a stick in both hands, only one was butter and the other was my penis.<br /><br />I then proceeded to lube her asshole up with a stick of cold butter. I want you to read that sentence again because it's never been typed before and there is a reason why. Normal and sane people do not use butter on their asshole when they have sex. Being a teenager and not having any personal lubricant is no excuse either. But there I was - trying to melt butter onto her fart catcher so that I could violate it with less tearing.<br /><br />Being the nice guy that I was, I put a little on myself too.<br /><br />The next thing you know I'm trying to fit it in... I know it's not an easy thing for a girl to do and yes I was a bad boyfriend but I wasn't cruel. I was taking my time, just a little pressure at first, and then I hear her crying.<br /><br />Oh god. What have I done to this precious little girl who asked me to butter up her asshole and follow it up with a cock chaser?<br /><br />I ask her, "Are you ok baby? Why are you crying? Did I go too fast?"<br /><br />"No," she says, "I just can't believe I'm doing this."<br /><br />Did I mention that she was a blonde?Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1480548658687479747.post-19565621450619058982008-10-20T16:21:00.000-04:002008-10-20T16:32:39.363-04:00Fine... (a new start)I've fucking hated MySpace's blog ever since the first day I joined the site. I remember I was curious about all that MySpace had to offer and being disappointed that most of the people on the site could only offer badly worded quizes about how they like grape jelly. As I built up my friends the content got better but the blogging got worse. The fucker was always down, or worse it would go down after I typed up a 20 page rant, and figured that clicking "save" actually meant it would save my shit.<br /><br />No. It meant that, yet again, Tom is a moron.<br /><br />Then they started really fucking it up. You can't post links. You can't post pictures if they don't like em. If you wanted to reply you have to go through the most annoying captcha system on earth and if you don't type it fast enough, it could change. Nevermind that p kind of looks like a b or a d because it's all bent up with a line through it. 0? FUCK!!!#@<br /><br />So MySpace, you still have your uses. At least until all of my other friend migrate to Facebook or Blogger.<br /><br />I can't wait for the day that you are talked about in the same sentences as Lycos, pets.com and go.com... "Remember when... Oh yeah, hehe, what were we thinking anyway?"Nathanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07021998010788879099noreply@blogger.com0