Monthly Archives: February 2009

To the Window to the Crawl

Oh. My. Batman.

After doing a post on the giant-sized-chastity-belt that is ‘The Snuggie”, I feel inclined to share my Snuggie-story. For my birthday last week a couple of asshats friends brought a Snuggie to the party.

There in front of a small group of my closest friends (including Salma Hayek, Kanye West and that lady from the ‘Head-On’ commercials) I was made to try it on.

I was convinced that the Snuggie would be ridiculous-looking in person and uncomfortable to wear as well.

Well to my welcome surprise it was actually worse.

First of all, the Snuggie is HUGE. This cannot be under-stated. It is massive.


For my birthday, I broke the Snuggie color barrier.

It was like I’d just ceremonially received the skin of a Flying Purple People Eater to hang on the wall next to my unicorn’s head and minotaur hoof.

Once I put it on, I was flush with heat. It was as if the Snuggie was stealing my very life essence, like that little troll did to Drew Barrymore in Cat’s Eye.

So there I was, my brown ass draped in this hot-red Snuggie. I basically looked like Fat Albert after overdosing on Hydroxycut.

I am sure that I’m the first person of color to don a Snuggie, thus making me the Jackie Robinson of Snuggies.

But that’s not why we’re here.

A Snuggie bar crawl.


A group of Teletubbies sit and enjoy a drink before bookclub.

That’s right, a mother-Snuggie bar crawl is being held.


I’ll say it again: balderdash.

Can you imagine being out with your friends, shooting the shit at a bar when the door suddenly swings open and in walks in a flock of Snuggies. You’d be like, “oh shit, Opus Dei is having a night out”, right?

I don’t know how they’d even manage to walk around town in those things.

I mean, I’m admittedly a small guy, but still, the Snuggie ran well past my feet and pooled itself on the floor like a wedding dress.

At one point I had to pee, but with the voluminous amount of material to lift and without anyone present that had been certified in Snuggie-bustling, I was forced to urinate on myself.

At my own party.

They say that they provide you with a complimentary booklight for reading (riiight), but I think it’s really used to help the Snuggie demographic find their genitals at night and raiding pic-a-nic baskets without waking Ranger Rick.

Plus I imagine that if you fell asleep and woke up still wearing your Snuggie, you’d start freaking-the-fugg out so much that someone would have to use the booklight in order to calm your synapses or something.

So imagine not only walking around town like that, but with an entire group of multi-colored idiots dressed just like you, as if you’re re-enacting The Fall of the Pacman Ghosts.pac-man_ghosts_blinky_inky

Seriously? I’d rather do an “elephant walk” down Broad Street with 5 other guys or be the Grand Marshall for a Klan parade on MLK Day than be in a Snuggie-walk.

I guess the good thing is if you lose someone in the group during the course of the night, it’d be easy enough to ask after them:

  • “Hey, have you seen a guy about yay tall, dressed like Orko?”
  • or, “Have you seen a flurgle (please note: a group of Snuggies will now be referred to as a “flurgle”) of people dressed like Fanta cultists?”.


    Too drunk to know better, Orko tries to take a dump without removing his Snuggie first. He was later banished from Castle Grayskull.

Can you imagine that? I picture a series of booklights snapping on whipping left and right down the bar strip and the group calling out to their lost Snuggie in some weird Elven tongue:

” Aroo.arooooarooooo…”


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Ugg; it’s time for a Style Quiz!


Uggs with Sweats= Constant look of "mud butt"

I personally understand the need and desire to find the perfect balance of comfort and style whenever, wherever possible. There are many times at work where I look around and see everyone all uptight and shit in their “suits” and “clean clothes” and I can’t help think, “goddamn I want some diapers and Nike Cortez’s”.

But alas; HR informed me that such attire was “unprofessional”, “lewd” and “ill-fitting due to extreme open-air sack exposure”. An obviously conservative office.

But I do think there’s a limit to such creature comforts in the everyday world, and sadly, some of you ladies are vaulting yourselves over the line.

Don’t believe me? Well then, a quiz is in order. A style quiz, that is, The Kids…style!

Please read the following items closely. Answer each question to the best of your ability.

1. The best way to wear my Ugg boots are:

a. butt-naked

b. with a skirt, you ass

c. with jeans, silly

d. “why with whatever I’m wearing–they’re multi-purpose boots!”


Geico Cavewoman explores big city, though fears a world "without Mastodons"

End of quiz. It was a trick quiz really, because if you were able to answer #1 at all, it means you’re in possession of Ugg boots and therefore you need to be addressed ASAP.

First of all, please remove your Uggs if you’re wearing them now; deputized The Kids…authorities are headed to your place to burn them. Please do not put up a fight as they are authorized to also burn you.

Now, let’s talk for a moment, face-to-face. I want to know you, Ugg-woman. I want to see into your soul. It’s just you and me now, in a room, facing each other like Coolio and Michelle Pfieffer.

I’m worried about you, Ugg-woman. You seem to wear your Uggs around the year with any outfit.

They’re not meant for that.

No, shh, no stop, just listen, please, just hear me out.

I’ve looked this up. I have. Here at The Kids…HQ we have an extensive, cutting-edge, experimental Google system that allows us to see things any and everywhere with just a click of a button.

We call this system “Giggle”.


"Look, tracers....!"

And through Giggle we were able to identify the person(s) that are socially allowed to sport Uggs and Uggs-like shoeware. We’ve crunched all the data after spending hours Giggling and we’ve concluded the following:

Giggling Data Results:

According to Giggle, the following persons are the only ones ok’ed to wear Uggs around-the-clock:

  • Xena, Warrior Princess


    Xena's after all of you Lawless Ugg-wearers. Also, she has phallic fantasies.

  • Rainbow Brite
  • Ut-Muk, an Eskimo tribal woman

What does this teach us, then? That Uggs are totally fine to wear if you’re a lesbian barbarian, a pre-adolescent Shasta girl or headed into the “main town” to trade whale fat and “adult Eskimo kisses” in exchange for matches and blankets.

Does that really fit you?

You know what constantly wearing Uggs tells the world? Some other possibilities/scenarios:

  • “Hello I am from the forests of Endor”.
  • “I live under a bridge and collect shiny things.”
  • “I enjoy hiding from Gargamel.”
  • “How do you make this ‘fire’ you speak of?”
  • “I forage for raccoon meat and pine nuts.”
  • “I lay with dirty people.”

It also means that you don’t mind that when you take your Uggs off people commonly remark, “did someone just make a hot plate of saurerkraut and fish chips?”.

So it’s time to throw out your foot furs and let them dogs breathe ladies.

So stop making your feet/legs so f-Ugg-ly!

You know, try and get on the good foot.


Filed under Style Quiz!

Head in the Class

Some of my favorite news stories are those teacher-student relationship scandals that always seem ripe for a Lifetime movie. Or Cinemax.notes-scandal

As someone who taught, I can’t imagine how this stuff happens. This ranks right up there with Yahoo!‘s Most-Searched Internet Questions as seen below:

  1. “why is Jamie Foxx still getting work?”
  2. “Cowboy Troy black, white?”
  3. “how many STD’s does Courtney Love have, give?”
  4. “how to get my 5th period Chem student to love me? pref naked”
  5. “donkey punch, how to”

Confounding isn’t it?

When I was a teacher in Houston, the conversations I had with kids usually consisted of one of the following:

1. grades (i.e. “what they are”; “…of cocaine”)

2. where my car keys were

3. which “Jose Vasquez” I was talking to


While Mr. Moore preferred cherries, but he'd still give students his banana from time to time.

4. “….seriously guys, where are my car keys?”

5. “whose baby is this?”

So suffice it to say, by the end of a typical day, I was definitely heated but not necessarily “in heat”, and if I was, it definitely wasn’t for any of the students.

So I don’t get this. I don’t even get how this happens.

It’s not like most teachers are even hot. I mean, think back to when you were in school before you dropped out.

I’ll guide you through it via a memory exercise. Hop into your mental DeLorean, check the flux capacitor, and let’s do this.

sexyteacher1Ok, lean back…..relax your muscles…..shut out the ambient noises around you: your baby needs to learn how to feed itself by now anyway……close your eyes……don’t worry; The Kids…is doing all of this with you, too… touch yourself……now her… it again…….ok kidding, stop…..STOP…….Now, I’m going to say a word…… The word is “teacher”…………….What do you see?……Great, ok …… touch me.

Kidding!–open eyes.


Mrs. Garrett works on Blair's 'witch' just barely off-camera

Ok, so I don’t know about you, but just now, these are the images that came to mind when I pictured the word “teacher”:

  • Mr. Morris in Head of the Class
  • Mrs. Garrett from The Facts of Life, watching Tootie shower
  • Me in class, crying. The kids pointing, laughing and dry-humping.
  • Michelle Pfieffer in a Catwoman suit whipping Coolio
  • Helen Keller in a tree yelling “teacher”
  • Mrs. Garrett and Catwoman showering.

Jennifer gets a little after-school help in 'chemistry' from Mr. Walls, and later, learns of "the beast with two backs".

I’m sure you had similar reactions, right? I mean, most of my actual teachers were a concentrated assortment of hump backs, poofy-hairdos, snaggled smiles and bulbous noses. It was like they all stumbled out of Labyrinth. And those were the doable ones.

So I don’t get who these teachers are. Any really hot person that’s posing as a teacher usually loses their clothes within 5mins and there’s a “fluffer” around the premises.

That’s not opinion folks, that’s science.

I mean, the only time I can remember something like that even remotely happening was when I was in high school marching band and the band instructor made a pass at me late after-school one day and I only  remember that because I remember I was sleeping with my English and Math teachers at the time.

Wait, what.

Anyway, a lot of times these teachers are fired and expelled from the District, forced to turn in their gradebook and condoms promptly at the office, never to be seen in Howard County, MD again.

Anyway, I always wonder how these people get new jobs.

So I did some digging and found the one place that’ll take anyone so long as they’re willing to stand in front of students without fear of being shanked. Here’s a section of their application:

School District of Philadelphia Human Resources Application for New Teachers

Please answer the following questions as honestly as you care to. We need teachers so we most likely won’t read this anyway.

  1. First Name: Declined for legal reasons Last Name: Declined for legal reasons
  2. Address: Heartbreak Hotel 😦 and currently, parent’s house
  3. Years teaching: 2 ½
  4. Subjects taught: Math, Geometry, Calculus, sex
  5. Education Background: Oh god, I’ve learned A LOT these last two years. Things like love and ages of consent.
  6. Criminal background: Please describe/detail any prior arrests: I’d rather not; I mean, is it wrong to love someone and be loved and make them miss gym, art, or English class occasionally because of that? No court can judge that. None.
  7. Technology skills:; chat rooms; webcams
  8. Reason for leaving last job: it’s totally complicated. Basically we were just headed in different directions; college, possible jail-time


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The Kids….is all a’Twitter

Twitter is a social-texting site that allows people to give constant real-time updates about what’s going on in their lives at every. given. moment.

You know those idiotic, mundane status updates you see on Facebook all the time? With Twitter, you can tell your friends, “Going to eat soup now”…..”Pee still burning”…..”Just watched ‘Judge Judy'”……”Think I either have the clap or I’m pregnant. Let’s clap if I’ve got the clap”…..”meeting with parole officer, then lunch with mom” all the time, any time during the day.

So needless to say, I’ve avoided this latest trend. To be honest, gleefully including myself on this list, most people just aren’t that interesting. I hate to break it to some of you, but you aren’t. Not enough to warrant constant streaming of your thoughts and activities.

It’s the same reason why I’d never do one myself (though I had the idea of using Twitter to do a special The Kids….real-time report on The Oscars…), because it’d more than likely look like this:

  • 8:15am taking a dump, reading Calvin and Hobbes
  • 8:35am still taking a dump, reading X-Men
  • 9:17am just got into work, punched a baby on subway on my way out of frustration
  • 9:21am just been fired going to dl some porn on work computer then going home to watch episodes of Bosom Buddies maybe cry a little

So, when I finally did go to the website, I sought out the only persons that I thought made sense to check-in on: celebrities. And so, over the course of the next few weeks, The Kids…will be sharing the transcripts of celebrity Twitter posts/conversations.

Our first celeb-Twit? Angelina Jolie.

If Mother Theresa was real she'd look like me

If Mother Theresa was real she'd look like me


The Kids Don’t Get It Presents: Angelina Jolie’s Twitter at The Oscars: (all times are EST; pictures supplied by Angelina)

February 22, 2009

7:45pm brad and i are in limo on way to oscars. made brad wear “jennifer” mask whilst we may love

7:55pm lil maddox just learned to cut his first lines of coke for mommy! he’s also driving the limo. to some he may be a 3rd world baby, but to us, he’s a 1st rate servant

8:10pm blacked out lost track of time because of coke  now apparently walking red carpet with brad about to check coats

8:22pm just realized this is not brad; hillary swank

8:23pm also just realized that i handed coat to penelope cruz, oscars dont have a coat check 2nite because of economy

8:24pm not penel cruz, don cheadle, i am so coked up

8:35pm in ladies’ room applying self-righteous lotion to my neck, balls. lotion made from maddox’s birth-mother’s tears. also injected heroin into belly button so i can stay awake during this grammy’s show

8:38pm seated now, giving brad handjob

8:55pm just rec email confirming we’ve officially adopted queen latifah, now re-named “stacy”. please welcome stacy jolie-pitt to our family

9:00pm show is so boring guys! omg, here comes jen-jen to present with jack fatback black to present animation aka apparently what jenn is not when she f-cks

Every tattoo's a "tramp-stamp" when you're me!

Every tattoo's a "tramp-stamp" when you're me!

9:01pm just yelled “c*nt” to jennifer anus-ton once applause died down. i hate her i HATE HER squeezing brad’s balls to remind him who owns him

9:02pm just yelled c-bomb again; everyone is looking at mickey rourke :)–except anus-ton who is looking at me

John Mayer and his mother, Cow Mayer at the Oscars

John Mayer and his mother, Cow Mayer at the Oscars

9:03 just flicked tongue at anus-ton, made graphic “bj” motion with mouth hands pointing at brad

9:17pm just took sip of billy bob’s career lifeblood from vial to calm nerves maintain vampire powers manage gonorrhea rashes

9:20pm just remembered to give a sip of vial to jamie foxx to help him maintain cultural relevance despite lack of talent

9:25pm sending naked pics of me to john mayer

10:19pm adrian brody just whispered ‘good luck tonight’–holy fuck i’m nominated tonight??? for ‘changeling’? wtf? i was really trying to get that baby that was not a movie

10:24pm bored carving stacy jolie-pitts name between breasts brad looks embarrassed GO BACK TO JENN THEN WHORE

10:45pm announcing lead actress noms……rachel hathaway –f*cked her….melissa leo –f*cked her….meryl streep –too many x’s to count….kate winslet–man. i should easily win

11:00pm award went to winslet, i just f-cked her hubby backstage for upstaging me. made him wear “jennifer” mask

11:30pm braddy-daddy and i are adopting the cast crew of slumdog mill…maybe mumbai too…must go now…mayer texting me pics of his junk wants pics of brad, & a ride home with us

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The Corpse Bride

I’m an admitted fan of American Idol. I’m not ashamed of that, especially considering the assortment of shit that I know my peers watch like:

  • Gossip Girls
  • CSI
  • Law & Order
  • porn

Anyway, yeah, every season I tune in to watch about 3/4 of Idol. After awhile, the scripted-ness and the vanilla-singing totally overloads my system so I usually resort to watching something like How to Date A Millionaire.

Anyway, every season Idol picks a contestant or two that has a compelling story, usually along the lines of something like, “American Idol is my one chance to have enough money to finish my sex change operation” or, “If I don’t win this, I swear I’ll just start turning tricks. Actually, I’ll turn tricks to win this.”

You're going to hear about Ghost Gokey roughly the same number of times this season.

You're going to hear about Ghost Gokey roughly the same number of times this season.

So this season, the show has picked Danny Gokey, a guy with one of those “soulful” voices that the show eats up. Danny’s story, which we learn from his first audition and is then repeated ad nauseum a la “A Mili”, is that he’s recently tragically lost his young wife–I don’t think the show every specifies how, so I am assuming werewolf attack.


"Go get'em, Danny!"

Anyway, neither he nor the show are going to let this story drop. Everytime this dude sings, appears, talks and farts on the show, there’s reference to his dead wife. It’s totally, totally manipulative.

He’s even taken to subliminally re-arranging song lyrics to get into the voters’ and the judges’ minds. For example, the other night he sang Aretha’s “RESPECT”, saying:

“D-E-A-C-E-A-S-E/that’s what my ghost wife means to me/D-E-A-C-E-A-S-E/take out the a-d-e — and she’s still dead”

During the performance, he paused as–‘surprise!’–her body was sitting in the audience, cheering him on.

The following week, Danny sung, “End of the Road” by Boyz II Men, with a similar effect:


Live via satelite from Purgatory

“Although we’ve come/to the end of the road/still I have your bones/It’s unnatural/you belong to me/my wife is deeeaaad”

Later, when they asked about how he had the strength to continue on under such tragic circumstances, he said, “It’s all thanks to my honey-bunch–there she is now” and made his wife ‘wave’ at the camera while he yanked a string fastened around her wrist like Weekend at Bernie’s.

He then proceeded to sing, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin”.

I suppose you can’t beat a dead horse, but you can a dead wife.

But to be fair, Danny isn’t the first hopeful to make a career off the body of a loved one:


Let's Hear it for the Dead:Natalie poses in Nat King Cole's coffin.


"A corpse, a corpse, a NY Senate seat for a corpse!"

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Rising from the classes

When it was time for me to choose a college once I graduated from school, my list of options/pursuits looked like this:

  • University of Maryland (where I went)
  • California University (where I wanted to go, but it turns out it only existed on Saved By the Bell: The College Years)
  • Seton Hall University (where I would’ve been shanked)
  • Boston University (where I would’ve been shanked a la Paul Pierce and then lynched)
  • Rutgers University (where I would’ve impregnated a Puerto Rican and then moved to Newark and then been shot. They will then shank the body.)

All of those schools had great taglines and inspirational quotes about achievement, your future and the promise of panty raids–well not BU, who only mentioned raids, but never specified which kinds there’d be during my “Potential Minority Affirmative Action to Keep Good White Folks Out of College Weekend” (formerly known as “Freaknik”).

Anyway, they all offered something thrilling about the college experience. It made it hard to narrow the list down between all these places that could/would potentially change my life forever.

But there was one that always stood out for me:

Bring in 3 Frosted Flakes proofs of purchase and earn your 1st degree !”

Once Senior Year hit, we all had to go our separate ways.

Once Senior Year hit, we all had to go our separate ways.

Ladies and gentlemen, The University of Phoenix.

The University of Phoenix is a fascinating place that exists virtually which I think means it’s in the same zip code as The Shire.

I mean, really; I totally get that it’s sell is addressing the busy adult working world, but is education really the place you want to take short-cuts?

Where other institutions promise the rigor and challenge of an academic setting, the University of Phoenix offers, “free AOL start-up discs !”.

It seems like it’d be a tough sell to go anywhere else, doesn’t it?  As preparation for this blog entry, I went undercover as a student at U-‘nix (my nickname for the school) and once I submitted my application (which consisted of questions like, “What’s your highest score on Windows ‘Solitaire’ (‘Las Vegas’ setting?)” and, “Describe the last three cartoons you watched”) I received a course catalogue for me to choose from.

To the window to the Residence Hall!: Mom and I visit Boston U.

To the window to the Residence Hall!: Mom and I visit Boston U.

The majors were as follows:

  • House of Griffindor (our “Education” track)
  • House of Ravenclaw (our fast-track to an MBA or PhD in a field of your choosing!)
  • Electives (Stickball, Kickball and Dominos; “XBox” elective will be offered in Spring 2009)

And that was it, besides an envelope to mail in my Kellogg’s proofs of purchase clips and a “vial for a CLEAN urine sample to keep on file (note: does not need to be applicant’s urine.”).

You're 1/3 of the way to an MBA!

You're 1/3 of the way to an MBA!

Classes took place in the “Casual Encounters” section on Craigslist and after about a week, I’d had enough. On the premise that I wanted to transfer schools, I wrote to U-‘nix’s Admissions Department and requested a copy of my transcripts.

I recieved an official copy of my transcript via email with a note saying:

“Dear APPLICAN, Here is yuor report card. ofFicul. Please revuw before sending to new skool. if you fill any graydes are incorrec, change them. –Phoenix. P.S. per agreement, you wil only get 1 of 3 Frosted Flakes proofs back.”

For Your Eyes Only: My U-'nix "transcript"

For Your Eyes Only: My U-'nix "transcript"

As if this wasn’t bad enough, it turns out that my University of Phoenix credits didn’t transfer to other institutions quite so easily. As a matter of fact, the following were the only places that accepted my University credits:

  • $10 store credit at Gap Outlet
  • 20 pts on a Dave & Buster’s “Power Card”
  • Parking Meters
  • Quizno’s

So, I was f*cked. After making my way through 4/5 of their joint MBA-PhD program, I’d gambled that time away by trying to go somewhere else.

Worse 3 weeks of my life.

Buyer beware!


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The Kids…has got 25 things and a list ain’t one

As a member of Facebook, I’ve been “tagged” or “mentioned” or “queefed” to do the latest craze, the “25 Random Things About Me” list, or as I like to call it, the “SOMEONE PLEASE REALIZE I AM SPECIAL” list.

Not familiar with it? Well, imagine everyone was suddenly Ricky from My So-Called Life: totally lively, totally sincere, totally obnoxious and possibly gay. That’s the best way to describe what it’s like to read these lists.

Per Facebook etiquette, people put everything from random fears, herpes outbreaks, family relationships,  and people they’ve killed on these lists.

It’s crazy.

Well, instead of doing one on Facebook, I’m doing my list here instead, and so, I present the following:

The Kids…Presents: 25 Reasons To Please Make Me Feel Special List:

1. My favorite gay celebrities are Ellen DeGeneres, the Doogie Howser guy, and

2. When I am not blogging, I am rigorously training to be on The Real World.


Still on the loose.

3. Wednesday nights, I help O.J. find Nicole’s real killers. We’re getting close. OJ’s pretty convinced that it was Urkel-bot.

4. I bowl under the fearful, ethnic moniker “Chocolate Thunder”.

5. Sometimes when I’m eating pancakes and I pour syrup on them, the syrup runs along Mrs. Butterworth’s bottle-body. This in turn, turns me on, and I sweep my pancakes onto the floor and her and I make loooove.

6. ….on an un-related note, I’ve been kicked out of IHOP 4 times.

7. Sometimes when people aren’t looking, I go through their purses. And by “people” I mean “Mom” and by “aren’t looking”, I mean “at gunpoint”.

8. I created Batman. Batman is really a black man. I know this because he is called “the Dark Knight”.

9. I was mentored by Ann Coulter, and then we dated, and then one night after whoopy I drove a stake

Butter and our child, Jemima.

Butter and our child, Jemima.

through her heart. This can all be found in my series of memoirs, “Twilight”.

10. I hate when people say, “if I die, I want to come back as X celebrity” because chances are, when you’re dead they’ll be dead too, so it’s just easier to be honest and say, “I don’t want to die alone with my cats/mother”.

11. In high school, kids made fun of me for my dorky appearance, voice and general uncoolness. But I got the last laugh in the end. I killed them. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha (cleans knife).

12.rIghT know eye m dr9nk

13. I have a mathematical equation that can prove that the Care Bears’  “Care Bear Stare” inspired Mardi Gras’ beads tradition.



14.  I taped R. kelly. Toot-toot, beep-beep.

15. I once confused “grundle” with “Grendel”. Not good when you’re teaching English class, and even worse when you’re trying to impress other warriors in the meadhall about how you “stabbed grundle 14 times”.

16. I once got plastic surgery to raise my ears. No wait, my breasts.

17. Cree Summers and I had a baby. That baby was Justin Guarini.

18. Am I special to you yet? I want to be special. This list needs to be special.

19. I was the Super Bowl camerman that Springsteen tea-bagged live during his halftime show. I now know why they call him “The Boss”.

20. Sometimes I see a young woman selling herself on the street and I’m like, “Do you need help? You really need to do something with your life”. And other times I’m just like, “Mom, this is really embarrassing.”

21. I love looking for pornographic moments in Disney films and when they’re not there, imagining they are. Hello, Wall*E.

22. I love NPR. Naked Public Running.

23. I use Jay-Z’s lips to cool my soup.

If there's a Batman, I'll come back as Jessica Tandy

If there's a Batman, I'll come back as Jessica Tandy

24. In elementary school, I sold weed out of my Trapper Keeper. Nowadays, I still sell weed to elementary school kids, but now I use my iPhone to coordinate sales, distribution, profits and ass-beatings.

25. I’m writing this from IHOP and Butterworth’s  rubbing syrup on her apron and giving me that “get the full stack look”. Gotta go.


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