Poor, poor white kids.

Facebook; It should be used for what it was intended:

a) Stalking “friends” who don’t know you exist.

b) Making fun of people from behind the computer screen.

c) Uploading pictures to make your life look cooler than it really is.

And not used for: 

a) Religious opinions. 

b) Political debates. 

c) “Modeling portfolio.” 

Facebook indicates that over a decades worth of education has fallen on deaf ears; The deafest being young white people. 

More than a few of my unnamed Facebook “friends” have begun using Facebook as a medium to relay their political and racial beliefs. 

Week after week I see privileged white people complain about something they refer to as, “Reverse Racism.” 

“BLACK PEOPLE HAVE B.E.T, WHY CAN’T WE HAVE A WHITE ENTERTAINMENT NETWORK. BLACK PEOPLE ARE RACIST.” 

Years of history classes and inborn common sense would deter even a stupid person from this kind of thinking. But maybe I’m too quick to judge these poor white people targeted by BET and America’s heavy duty storm of reverse racism. Maybe these kids were absent during the days when we learned about racial things. Things like:

White Americans enslaving black people for hundreds of years.

or black people being considered only 3/5ths a person.

or Jim Crowe Laws. 

or the Civil Rights Movement. 

or people getting sprayed with fire houses and attacked by dogs in the fight for equality. 

or Rosa Parks. 

or lynchings. 

or the word nigger. 

I’m just assuming that no one in their right mind would want to watch the hypothetical “White Entertainment Television.” We don't need W.E.T for the same reason we don’t need a heterosexual alliance. 

What would that network even consist of?

-A brief history in time of our founding fathers?

-Documentaries of hairy faces and bear bellies toting guns out into the woods to kill and eat squirrels. 

-The offensive nature of the word “Cracker.” 

-QVC-esk broadcasts that sell Toms toothpaste and Barry Manilow CD’s. 

-Laguna Beach re-runs 

It’s human nature to want attention from any endured suffering. As people, there is an always-there desire for recognition. Unfortunately, Facebook tells me that there are a number of white people who can’t quite accept that, “Caucasian” is not yet a race worthy of recognition. That's not to say that white individuals are not worthy of recognition. Getting an A on your paper, helping an old lady cross the street, starting your own organization against racism or shaving your vagina without awakening a fury of red bumps. These things all deserve some kind of high five or pat on the back. But like the past of yourself, the past of your race can bind you with a bad reputation. 

            The white race is kind of like a girl who started giving blow jobs in 7th grade, moved onto anal in 8th and earned herself a pretty well-deserved reputation as a whore by the time high school rolled around. The whore has to learn some lessons, slow down on the road head and wait a number of years until she can even begin to earn a new reputation. 

            If black pride apparel, bumper stickers or one entertainment network is all that these Facebook people can scrounge up and rename as racism, they should consider themselves extremely lucky. After this reconsidering, these people should then delete their Facebook’s, and then delete themselves in general. The world won’t be missing too much. I’m able to say this with some confidence after I realized that most of these “victims of reverse racism” are also young know-nothings who have adopted the ill-made opinions of their parents. 
            They are the self-proclaimed heros working dead end jobs and forming dead end opinions as they deliver a plate of sliders to a table of black people with a smile and then later refer to them a bunch of niggers. They are the most useless freedom fighters that have ever existed, for what freedoms are they fighting for that haven't already been handed to them on a silver platter? 

Can You Guess The Breed?

An interesting breed of human has emerged. Though their origin is not yet confirmed, social scientists believe the breed came from an assortment of highly taxed suburbs. Social observation has shown that the humans are extremely primative and lacking in speech development. 

Chest bumps, high fives, grunts and loud bursts of unnecessary laughter seem to be their only means of communicating. Body language experts are being brought in to try and assign meaning to these apparently meaningless behaviors. 

Although national security has deemed the breed too undeveloped to pose any real danger, they are urging citizens to beware of their weapons. Doctors originally assumed that the specimens were born with sticks attached to their hands, but further research has disproved this theory. Doctors discovered that the breed voluntarily carries around large sticks with small butterfly nets attached to the ends. Interestingly, observers have yet to see them do anything except walk around with the stick and occasionally deep-throat it. 

They appear only to have 2 skills: They can throw a small ball with some accuracy and manufacture their own Roofalin. The breeds minimal skill level has done nothing to hurt their self-esteem. Although these stick carriers appear primitive, hunch-backed and monkey-like, they have insane amounts of confidence and believe all women are attracted to them. It has been observed that if denied by a woman, they will resort to date-rape and tea-bagging. After such sexual victories, the breed high fives their sticks and makes gay jokes. Their odd treatment of women, constant gay bashing and contradictory homoerotic behavior led psychologists to a conclusion: This is an all gay breed.  

Until further research has been conducted, Professionals are urging citizens to stay away from the breed. Watch for large packs of men carrying sticks, sporting tiny boners and screaming FAGGOT. To avoid the breed, stay away from freshly mowed fields and frat parties. 

Scientists predict that the new breed will eventually beat each other to death with their sticks. Extinction is near and people are looking forward to it. For now, professionals are referring to the temporary breed as case #1002398374856 or, "The Lax Bros."

One More Minute.

If it takes you an hour to get ready for your boyfriend, it's taking him 55 minutes less than that for him to get ready for you. From curling your eyelashes to getting rid of your secret mustache, girls seem to be stuck in a constant state of "getting ready." But what are we getting ready for? Women in denial would say that to look good is to feel good even if no one's watching. Logical people would argue that we do all this 'getting ready' stuff for the benefit of everyone but ourselves. We do it for people. But more specifically than just people, we do it for men. And even more specific than men, we do it to create and sustain their boners. 
So what exactly do women do to get ready for men 

and what exactly do men do to get ready for women? 

Showering

Women- There was a time when I shaved everything except my eyebrows. Any non-albino woman can empathize with me on this hairy situation. Men would be horrified to see what women shave and the contorting positions that allow them to do so.
Men- Jerks off after shampooing and forgets to wash anything else. He may or may not shave his face. 

Moisturizing 

Women- Puts lotion on every body part even though men are only interested in touching a few of them, (a couple of which should not be moisturized.)

Men- Nothing.

Nails

Women- Clip, file, polish and do whatever it takes to make toenails attractive.

Men- Will trim if completely necessary. Nails will be clipped into jagged points resembling tiny weapons.

Hair

Women- Untangle blowdryer and straightener from 17 cords belonging to appliances you don't use. Blow hot air at scalp while standing naked in a steamy bathroom that's now reached 110 degrees because of your incredibly long shower. Fuse blows. Need to kill someone. Finish blowdrying hair once the fuse is fixed and end up looking like you just survived the electric chair. Plug in straightener to calm down the craziness and kill hair in the process by cramming it into a 450 degree steel trap. Finally, you start to look human. 

Men- Rub hand or towel over head 4 times. Hair looks fine. 

Make-up

Women- Use the following to create your everyday mask: foundation, concealer, bronzer, blush, eye-shadow, eye-liner, mascara, eyelash curler, eye-brow filler, lip gloss from 6th grade and for the sluttier ones, glitter. 

Men- Nothing.

Clothes

Women- If you're anything like me, you're still running from room to room like a naked James Bond trying to dodge anyone in your house who shouldn't see you naked. Try on 12 outfits. Hate all of them. Pick the one you hate the least and then search for slutty underwear. Make sure the bra is padded enough to add 2 cup sizes. NOTE: Upon removing your bra, he will be extremely disappointed to watch your 2 D's deflate to 1 large A-cup and 1 funny looking B.

Men- Walk around room until they find a random shirt to match with a random pair of pants. Specifically pick out underwear with a hole in them.  

Finishing up

Women- Spray perfume and then twirl around in the mist. Look at yourself in the mirror and wonder if your shirt makes you look fat. Change outfits. Look at yourself again before grabbing a purse containing lip gloss, phone, birth control and plan B. 

Men- Possibly spray cologne. Pat pants pockets to make sure they have their phone, keys, condoms and wallet. Somehow this pat is enough to tell them everything.

The women of the world still stuck in the bathroom even after their date has arrived have to wonder if the minimal amount of time a man takes to get ready is symbolic of their minimal interest in her. And although I don't believe there is a correlation between the time it takes a boy to get ready and the amount he likes you, the hole in the underwear keeps my mind in a constant state of wonderment. 

There Was A Time,

I Wanted To Paint Blood

And Flesh P e  e   l   i   n   g Back From Bone

All I Wanted Was A Zombie 

That I Could Call My Own. 

I Guess It Wouldn't Be A Zombie 

Because D

               e

                e

                  p Down Underneath 

It Would Be A Girl Like You And Me

Brown Hair/Pink Lips And Shiny White Teeth 

I Wanted To Make Horrible Masks 

And Use My Day To Turn People Into Strangers 

And Make Movie Characters For Horror Films

These Same Hopes fall Loose From Black Hangers.

There Was A Time When I Wanted To Talk 

With People From Earths Corners Who'd Leave With No Trace

I'd Try Not To Stare At Their Needle P      t  Arms

                                                       o   n

                                                          i  

And Be Desperate To See Past Their Hair/Nails And Face.

I Had Wanted To Help The Worst Of The Addicts 

Free Them Of A Substance With Unyielding [Control]

And Feel The Rewards That Money Fails To Bring Forth

Clock Hands Pushed Plans To Shrink back And Grow Old. 

There Was A Time When I Wanted To Stand 

Beside A Cold Corpse Needing To Be Preserved

I'd Take Out The Organs And Do Up The Hair 

I'd Brush On Some Blush And Not Once Feel Unnerved. 

Now I'm On My Way To Doing None Of These Things

Dreams Of Odd Jobs Clipped So [Short] At The Wire 

1,000,000 Little Careers Living Only In My Head 

I've Barely Begun But I've Already Retired.

Blame it on the alcohol

Girls take a lot of shit for getting drunk. Whether it's the ugly scrunched up war-heads face we make post-shot, or the odd things we do after drinking, girls are faced with opposition from men, parents and innocent bystanders.
When a guy gets drunk, usually 1 of 3 things happen. 
1) He will get angry for no reason and punch something/someone. 
2) He will laugh and be merry and play games and have sex.
3) Nothing. He will be wasted but still seem sober. Amazing.
When women get drunk, they usually display a more complex set of emotions, dance moves and bodily fluids. 
 
Similar to the way that drug tests expose the narcotics in a persons system, alcohol is a test that can be used to expose the many personalities hiding in a woman. 
A series of unfortunate and embarrassing events have plagued my amateur weekend drinking career since it began in 10th grade. 
As a drunken gender, we are a dice tumbling off the edge of a table and onto the floor. We spin before landing and people gather around to see which face will appear 

Faces of the dice (many of my own faces)
You roll #1 and land on: The Sex Savage   
Pictures of dad, grandma and jesus christ are turned to face the wall as you participate in unspeakable acts of sluttiness. This girl is drunk and on the prowl. She may dry hump you against a wall in a room full of people. She may pop out of the shower curtain naked while you're peeing. This is one side of a girl that no blood relative should know exists. 
You roll #2 and land on: The Cryer. 
There's only one thing that can make a girl cry harder than The Notebook: too many drinks. For no apparent reason, the girl starts to feel overwhelmed and begins to think that the appropriate response to breaking her flip flop is to weep. She'll warrant lots of sympathy and back pats from other drunk girls who are also crying over broken thong sandals. 
You roll #3 and land on: The Over-Sharer 
One to many drinks and everyone at the party becomes this girls extremely under-payed therapist. She will use poor transitional methods to turn any conversation around till it becomes about her and all the horrible things that have ever happened to her. Things will get intense and there will be no memory left untouched. 
You roll #4 and land on: The Mohammad Ali 
Usually induced by tequila shots, this girl becomes a fighter. Depending on how much she's drank, she may just try to fight any girl, guy, bum, cop, hells angel or grandparent who she swears gave her a dirty look.

You roll #5 and land on: The memory bank 
One of the most annoying sides of a girl. She may appear to have a high-functioning form of autism which allows her to recall the date and time of anything you have ever done wrong. She drunkenly and confidently tells you that it really wasn't fucking cool of you to not text her back with plans that one saturday two months ago. The vicim, unprepared for this untimely ambush of useless information, will be left defenseless. 

You roll #6 and land on: The prized pig
You've won. She's happy and silly and fun and above all she's great at drinking games. She's a real social butterfly. 
Just kidding. No such girl exists.  
#6 is the most common side that appears when a girl gets drunk, "The sloppy one."
An hour after she loudly declares herself  "the life of the party" she will throw up into her hands, pee her pants, cry, tell her best friend to go fuck herself and then pass out naked next to the token creepy party guy who graduated 3 years ago but still talks to girls in high school. 


This rolling of dice and game of charades we play with only ourselves probably won't stop us from getting drunk. The dice will continue to crash and burn into the floor. In the end we will be the losers, because everyone knows that the house always wins. But because the gamble of rolling the dice and hoping the whole time it'll land on the right number is where the real fun was the whole time, we won't ever feel as bad as we should

Why can't we be friends?

Not a big fan of sororities or fraternities. Never have been. I'm not denying that the basis of these Greek life organizations had good intentions and strong foundations.
They did. 

But when good intentions are met with bad people,The bad guys win. And that's when people get sodomized with hot dogs. And it will never make sense to me that fraternities seem like a safe haven for all homophobic gay bashing men. 

yet...while in a fraternity these same men end up taking homoeroticism to whole new levels of gay. Now, this is probably a poem of exaggerated events, but I'm sure that some of these things happened to some people at some point in time somewhere. 

Bend over

Touch your toes 

Shut your eyes

Now keep them closed. 

One paddle two paddle

Eight paddle nine 

Skin is raw and red

This pledge is nothing but a swine.

Fatty flab hanging 

Circled with a marker 

Small tits and cellulite

My sisters make me stronger.

Sex with lots of losers

Their stomachs full of beer

Egos full and bursting

He hasn’t come yet but he’s near.

Knowing what to expect

The pledge is just a runt 

Branded an ugly little bitch

A fag a loser and a cunt. 

I like to drink but not this much

My mind is spinning in pirouettes 

One more shot forced down my throat

They’re burning my arms with cigarettes.

Eat the uneatable slop they feed me

I’d love to clean the throw-up of others 

I'll take the pain of whatever they give me

As long as I'm one of the sisters or brothers.

Please put that object up my ass

Sodomy is a test of my strength

Let me get naked for that sweaty frat pig

can I compliment him on his cocks length?

Pledge leader! pledge leader!

Please take my money 

If you don’t ill go crazy

I'll cook this bunny. 

The marker will fade and the wounds will heal

I'll no longer be the scum a top your pond

Once I wash this semen from my braid 

I'll have the honor of the Greek life bond.

                                                                     hmm..

Every action has an equal and opposite (in)action.

December 25th 1998, I boycotted Christmas because I didn't want to wake up for presents as early as the rest of my family. My mom said I was always grumpy as a kid. As an 8 year old, I would glare at my brother over a bowl of Captain Crunch every morning before going to school wondering what he was so damn happy about. I think my pessimism was something my parents thought of as a phase. "It'll pass" was muttered a lot. Time would only prove them wrong. Phases don't last nineteen years. Any odd behavior lasting more than a year or two should stop being referred to by naive parents as "a phase" and start being referred to by its actual term, "a lifestyle." Bart and Chris Turek were just going to have to live with the fact that their daughter was...kind of an asshole..and liked to argue about things even when she didn't have all the facts..and had a big mouth...and a short fuse..and a peculiar fetish for fake plastic food. But moreover, they had to accept my pet peeves. They had to know that the ratio in my head comparing the things I hated versus the things I didn't was insanely uneven and would result in endless bitching, complaining and overall lack of action taken.

So while I'm on the subject, 
I could really do without some things. 

1) Girls over the age of 8 referring to hanging out as "playing." OMG LETS PLAYYY! PLAY DATE SOON. It's clear to everyone that there won't be much playing going on. Playing is reserved for things like hide and seek, tag and easy bake ovens. Probably not a word that can be used to descibe the things you'll actually be doing such as gossiping, watching t.v and going to crossgates. It sounds creepy and wrong and makes me think that Chris Hanson of Dateline NBC's "To Catch a Predator" should be sitting in to make sure no one gets molested.
2) Girls who replace the TH sound with an F sound. I'm not sure when it became cool or desirable to sound like you have a speech impediment, but its a trend I'm most likely not going to follow. COME PLAY WIFFF ME SOON! OH! AND HAPPY BIRFFDAYY!

3) When people find out that you haven't eaten, seen, heard, smelt or touched something that they have and say "OH YOU HAVEN'T LIVED" or "WHAT. ARE YOU KIDDING? WERE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE." Usually if you're lucky enough, they'll follow through with that second one. I haven't had pizza from Long Island, watched the Jersey Shore, eaten an eclair or seen the Godfather but somehow by the grace of god, I am still alive.
4) When you're in a group project and you tell the group the right answer to a question but no one acknowledges you because they don't think you're smart enough to contribute. They later find out that you were right but still.. no acknowledgement.
5) People who post pictures of themselves from photobooth AND proceed to talk about how ugly they look. "No make-up, sweatpants, just woke up...ugh. I look like shit" If you actually thought you looked like shit, you would erase the picture, feel bad about yourself and then take a few more to see if it's even possible for you to look any better. Or you can do what most girls do, which is... keep it, upload it to facebook, tag themselves, make it their profile picture and pray to receive the compliments they were fishing for.
6) My mom talking on her cell phone. I understand that people born in the 60's didn't grow up with cell phones, but you'd think after almost ten years of having one, my mom would stop talking into the phone as if everyone she knew was almost or completely deaf.
7) The morning after I sleep over at my dads apartment. Like clockwork, he gets up at 5am every morning, puts on his cowboy boots and paces the hardwood floors. Sometimes he'll jingle keys, turn on Rambo at full volume and talk to me about the legend that is Sylvester Stalone.
8) hugging people

9) Once again, the childish speech impediment. LOVESSSS YOU/IT/HIM/HER/THEM. Perhaps I'm being to harsh. Maybe these girls had suffered some tragedy as a kid that forced them back into a state of childlike dependency, making them to talk like babies and set up play dates at the age of NINETEEN. It seems more likely that these girls are just suffering from being idiots.  
10) a day where nothing goes right. Drop everything. spill anything. hit your head on all surfaces. bang your elbow into every door. remember nothing that you needed to.
11) Dumb experts. People who think they know everything but really don't. I had a boy who works under the hoods of cars all day tell me that taking plan B was the same thing as having an abortion. As tempting as it was to take this medical advice about my uterus from a non-girl non-doctor, I somehow resisted to take this information seriously. 
12) Skim milk. Might as well be water. I like my milk thick and fatty and straight from the udder.