Batman vs. Superman Thoughts Sunday, Mar 27 2016 

I just saw Batman vs. Superman and HOLY BUTTCHEEK
I kinda really liked it!
I was prepared to hate it… To sit there in the theater and bask in the assness. But I found myself doing the complete opposite. I took notes throughout the whole movie, because they were so many IMPORTANT THINGS HAPPENING THAT I WANTED TO REMEMBER.
Now, I’ll say again… Spoilers abound. HUGE fuckin’ spoilers. So please turn away if you haven’t seen BvS yet. (Unless you don’t plan to, which is kind of a mistake).
Now, like I said, I was taking notes on my phone during the movie, and typos and autocorrect made them a bit of a mess.
What I wrote: Why wrentvtheyvputv g the building sooner
What I meant: Why weren’t they out of the building sooner?
Near the beginning of the movie, we see Bruce Wayne calling some dude named Jack in one of his buildings in Metropolis. All the employees are there, just working away, while FUCKING SUPERMAN AND ZOD TEAR UP THE CITY MERE YARDS AWAY
Why are they still there?! Why have they not evacuated? Were they waiting for the okay from Wayne? What kind of slavish devotion is that? Fuck that shit.

What I wrote: Broke a car window but everyone is cool
What I meant: Broke a car window but everyone is cool
At one point during the flashback to Metropolis and the big fight between Superman and Zod, one of them does some sonic boom shit, which blows out the windows of a car, but doesn’t knock anyone over. Okay.

What I wrote: I ship Alfred and batman
What I meant: I ship Alfred and Batman
They were meant for each other! I really don’t understand why they don’t fuck.

What I wrote: I like pec lithos
What I meant: I like Lex Luthor
Lex Luthor definitely grew on me. From the trailers, I was like, “This shit is dumb.” I’m not a fan of Jesse Eisenberg, but you know what. I fucking liked Lex Luthor. I said it.

What I wrote: Rob costume is haunting
What I meant: Robin’s costume is haunting
Holy balls. I know we already saw it in the trailers, but it’s really something, isn’t it?

What I wrote: No security at this library
What I meant: No security at this library
Batman just waltzes downstairs and starts downloading files and shit without a problem. (Mercy does not count as a problem because she does fucking dick to stop him).

What I wrote: Why batman has the most ducked up dreams
What I meant: Why Batman has the most fucked up dreams
Batman’s dreams are a doozy! My reactions to them:
1. Flying up into the bats: Retarded
2. Bat monster coming out the grave: FUCKING TERRIFYING
3. Batman vs. Superman: Fucking weird. There was so much weird shit going on. The Super soldiers, Batman using a gun, THE WORLD IS A DESERT, Superman being a penis, THOSE FUCKING BAT DEMON THINGS and then…

What I wrote: THE FLASH
What I meant: THE FLASH
I will admit, it took me about halfway into this scene to realize who the Flash was. I was like, “Who the fuck– Is that Robin? Why does he look like an asshole? Who is this asshole?” And then I saw the lightning and it all came together and it was amazing.

What I wrote: Lo
What I meant: Lo
If I’m not mistaken, Superman calls Lois Lane, “Lo,” at one point, which is a cute and perfect nickname.

What I wrote: Big ass scar on batman D chest
What I meant: Big ass scar on Batman’s chest?
Batman’s got a big ass scar on the left side of his chest. I wanna know how it got there. It looks gnarly.

What I wrote: Wonder woman, flash, aqua man, cyborg
What I meant: Wonder Woman, Flash, Aquaman, Cyborg
I wrote this note when they first show the symbols in Lex’s files. I thought it was an Easter egg, so I was excite and feeling proud of myself…

What I wrote: Lemme see that super dong
What I meant: Lemme see that super dong
We see tons of naked General Zod, but zero super dong. That’s an issue.

KEVIN FUCKING COSTNER! This scene was crazy but perfect.

What I wrote: Loud an led lol like brother and sister
What I meant: Lois and Lex look like brother and sister
They really do!

What I wrote: Wise words on god all powerful cannot be all good
What I meant: Wise words on god: Something all powerful can’t be all good, and something all good can’t be all powerful
I just really liked that sentiment. Very compelling, Lex!

What I wrote: Did lex intercept the chicks
What I meant: Did Lex intercept the checks?
This is kind of hilarious. This means that the money was never getting to wheelchair guy, but he was still telling people he worked for Bruce Wayne. Best of all, Bruce Wayne never even saw the rude messages on the checks until the umpteenth hour.

They went in on Superman’s mom! She’s an old fuckin’ lady! Have some respect! Those photos were frightening.

What I wrote: … How did lex find out who he is
What I meant: … How did Lex find out who he is?
How the fuck did Lex Luthor identify Superman? I mean, the obvious answer is that it’s mad obvious who he is; anybody could figure it out.
But if anybody could figure it out… Why hasn’t anyone until Lex? IT DON’T MAKE NO SENSE.

What I wrote: Aqua man looks retarded
What I meant: Aquaman looks retarded
Aquaman’s little video was awful. He should’ve just destroyed the camera real quick instead of acting like he was doing a fucking photo shoot just floating underwater like that.

This shit was so cool! I’m so excite. These scenes would’ve made really awesome stingers, though.

What I wrote: why is nobody evacuating
What I meant: Why is nobody evacuating?!
Again, what’s up with these people and not wanting to go the fuck home while horrible shit is going down?! The employees of the Daily Planet keep peering out the window like, “Wow, the alien ship a few blocks away is really wigging out! Let’s keep working!” Fuuuuck that shit.

What I wrote: You’re not brace. Men are brave
What I meant: You’re not brave. Men are brave.
A nice bit of dialogue from Batman to Superman.

What I wrote: I’m not sure their friendship can come back from this
What I meant: I’m not sure their friendship can come back from this
Batman was really fucking Superman up. I really don’t think I could be friends with someone who beat me like that.

I swear I never realized this before.

What I wrote: Every time we say goodbye you die a little
What I meant: Every time we say goodbye you die a little
The henchman about to burn Martha Kent was saying this to her, (or something like this), before Batman burst in and interrupted. What the fuck did he mean? Was he just dropping some impromptu poetry on his captive audience?

What I wrote: Why just leaf that spear here
What I meant: Why just leave that spear there?

What I wrote: Doomsday holy shit
What I meant: Doomsday holy shit
At this point of the movie, I had completely forgotten Doomsday was supposed to be in it. So that was a fun little surprise.

What I wrote: He looks like the troll from lotr
What I meant: He looks like the troll from LOTR
… Even if Doomsday looked the troll from the Lord of the Rings.

What I wrote: ROAST IT
What I meant: ROAST IT
When fighting Doomsday, the first thing Superman does is start punching him. If I was Superman, my very first move would be to break out the eye beams, but he doesn’t even try that until deep into the fight :/

What I wrote: Second form is cool
What I meant: Second form is cool
When Doomsday starts peeling off his skin and looks more like he does in the comics… That was pretty cool.

What I wrote: Batman is so human I love I
What I meant: Batman is so human I love it
Seeing Batman run around the final battlefield completely out of his element was pretty great. It’s nice to be reminded that he’s not really a ‘superhero.’ Or a, ‘metahuman.’ #Whatever.

What I wrote: WW kicking the most ass of anybody
What I meant: Wonder Woman is kicking the most ass of anybody
Wonder Woman kicked a lot of ass in that final battle! They really should’ve gave her the spear and let her handle shit. She was obviously capable.

What I wrote: IMPALED jfc
What I meant: IMPALED jfc
Superman really caught it! Ouch.

What I wrote: How excavator did they gaggle the two funerals
What I meant: How exactly did they manage two funerals?
I really want to know the logistics of Superman and Clark Kent’s funerals. He was buried in Kansas, but… The government was just cool with not having a body? Did they think he just dissolved? I dunno, man.

What I wrote: Thus birch has the pest hairdos
What I meant: This bitch has the worst hairdos
When not in her Wonder Woman outfit, Wonder Woman has some really awful hairdos. Diana Prince needs a new hairstylist.

What I wrote: Darks rid??
What I meant: Darkseid??
This movie is building up to Darkseid? Ignoring for a moment the fact that I think that character is ass, how many big blue/grey super powerful villains can we have in these damn superhero movies?

Complaints aside, I really freaking enjoyed this movie. It’s a great time to be alive.

P.S. Patrick Wilson played the President! (In a voice over role). I love Patrick Wilson!

OCTOBER BOOK FEST Monday, Sep 8 2014 

I, like many others, don’t have much time to read nowadays, but this year I made a resolution to read at least 12 books. I’m not doing great with it, but the resolution has motivated me to read way more than I would have normally. Here’s the list of what I’ve read so far:

  1. A Lion’s Tale by Chris Jericho
  2. Undisputed: How to Become World Champion in 1,372 Easy Steps by Chris Jericho
  3. We Were Liars by E. Lockhart
  4. The Hellbound Heart by Clive Barker
  5. American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis

There’s so many great books out there, and so little time, and now October will soon be upon us, bringing with it three new books I totally want to read.

1. The Best in the World: At What I Have No Idea by Chris Jericho (October 14th, 2014)


As you can probably tell from the list above, I really dig Chris Jericho’s memoirs. For those of you not in the know, Chris Jericho is a professional wrestler, and an all around magnet for crazy situations. Here’s a tiny sampling:

  • Being robbed at gunpoint in Mexico
  • Getting into a fistfight with THIS guy:


  • Tripping and falling into THIS guy’s arms:


And like I said, that’s just a tiny sampling of the entertaining randomness Chris Jericho often finds himself caught up in. His books are breezy reads and hilarious. He also doesn’t beat around the bush and is very honest about the behind the scenes going-ons at WWE. I’m very much looking forward to devouring his next piece.

2. Prince Lestat by Anne Rice (October 28th, 2014)


-screams for ten complete minutes-

I STILL CANNOT BELIEVE THAT THIS IS A THING THAT IS HAPPENING and I probably won’t really believe it until I get to hold a copy in my grimy little hands. I’ve always loved The Vampire Chronicles, and the idea of a new one, eleven years after what was supposed to be the conclusion, excites me to no end, even though I have a really, really dirty secret:

I’ve never actually finished The Vampire Chronicles.


I’ve tried plenty of times! I’ve read Interview With the Vampire probably around ten times, (and it’s PHENOMENAL every time), but then I move on to The Vampire Lestat, and… I can’t finish it. It’s so freaking sad that I literally cannot bear it. Really. It bums me the fuck out and I always set it down in the same spot. I’VE TRIED THREE TIMES, NOW.

When I first heard about Prince Lestat in August of this year, I really wanted to try and burn through the chronicles to see if I could finish them in time for Prince Lestat, but I must’ve been smoking crack when I thought up that idea because it’s crazy talk. Still. I definitely need to finish this series already. Anne Rice is already planning a sequel to Prince Lestat, so maybe that can be my new deadline. 

3. As You Wish: Inconceivable Tales From the Making of The Princess Bride by Cary Elwes (October 14th, 2014)


As anyone else who has seen The Princess Bride, I flipping love it. It’s a fantastic movie, and an even better book. (Seriously. The book is amazing). My favorite edition of the book is the 30th Anniversary edition, which includes a lengthy introduction by William Goldman, in which he expounds upon the making of The Princess Bride movie. I always recommend this edition to friends, who without fail, always whine, “Do I have to read the introduction?” 

Okay, I kinda get it. The intro’s like 20 pages long alone. But it’s ALSO ONE OF THE BEST PARTS OF THE BOOK. 

Because of my fervent love of that introduction, I can only hope that As You Wish… will deliver more awesome behind the scene stories. And even if it’s just a retread, or not all that great, it’s still a book about the making of The Princess Bride. I mean, when you’re buying books like this,


you’re probably willing to give anything a try. (That book is actually pretty decent)!


So there you have it! The October books I’m most excited for… I better not die before I get to read them!

Are you excited for any October releases? Have any of these piqued your interest?  

Questions About South Korea, From My Lovely Facebook Friends Friday, Aug 29 2014 

While I was in South Korea this summer, I asked my Facebook friends to throw some questions about South Korea my way, and how shit goes down over there, (based on my observations).   

My Facebook friends delivered with some very insightful questions, and I’m going to answer them all to the best of my ability.


Belinda asked, “Food? How do I get my own personal kitty cafe? Weather?”

Answer(s): Regarding the food, it’s all generally pretty spicy. Even the stuff you don’t expect to be. I was pretty sick while I was over there with various stomach issues so I had to avoid a lot of the real spicy stuff, (a.k.a. everything). Luckily, there were a lot of American food chains around, with basically the same food they have stateside. We frequented Taco Bell and Hooters the most. Baskin Robbins and Dunkin Donuts, too. 

As for your own personal kitty cafe, Belinda, that’s probably going to have to wait until you get your own place. Acquire 5+ cats, and voila! Your own personal kitty cafe!

Lastly, South Korea has weather very similar to say, New Jersey. We both have real seasons and a variety of weather to keep us on our toes. While I was in South Korea, it was a little rainy the first two days, and then super duper hot the rest of our time there. Africa hot. HOT.

Amberlyn asked, “Have you seen any weird things like cursed dolls? Have you heard any urban legends?”

Answer(s): Regarding the cursed dolls question, these… things… are about as close as I got:


They were just chilling on a bench in the middle of a market in Hongdae. Creepy. 

I didn’t really hear any urban legends while I was there, but I do know of one South Korean urban legend that I think is pretty weird. Apparently, a lot of people in South Korea think that if you sleep with a fan on in your room, you’ll die because the fan will suck out all the breathable air, or cause hypothermia, (or both in what I assume is a worst case scenario). They call it Fan Death. It probably seems pretty silly to us, but they even sell fans in South Korea with adjustable timers so that they won’t run all night and kill you.

Chelsea asked, “Where does Lee Min Ho live, and what are his weaknesses?”

Answer(s): I’m sorry to report that while my grandmother and I were very dedicated to finding the answers to these questions, we came up empty handed. At one point we were chatting with the staff in our hotel about him, (two girls who were also ardent fans of Lee Min Ho). My grandmother joked, “I don’t even see Lee Min Ho on any ads around here! What do I have to do to see him?” 

One of the girls leaned over her computer and started typing away, turning her monitor to us after a few seconds. She had done a Naver image search of Lee Min Ho and pulled up a bunch of pictures of him. That was basically about as close as we got.

Jessie asked, “I would like to know how many non-Korean people you’ve seen. Also, how attractive is the general population? Like should I move to South Korea now or just stick to watching k-pop videos? Also, do Koreans view cat cafes and the Hello Kitty cafe as weird tourist traps, or is it normal to them? And one more thing. Can you try some orange juice and give it a full critique?”

Answer(s): I didn’t see very many non-Korean people. At any point my family and I could be on the subway or on the street and be the only non-Korean people there.

This led to lots and lots of stares from all the Korean people we saw. Mean-mugging. Glaring. Trying to bore holes into you using the power of their gaze. I don’t know how else to describe it. People looked you up and down, regardless of whether you noticed or whether they were driving and about to crash. If you stared back they would eventually stop but it took them a good minute. 

The only time I ever saw a good amount of foreigners was when we were at the palaces. Those are huge tourist attractions, so they got a good mix of people. I made the mistake of mentioning Cambodia in a conversation with my grandmother while we were at Changdeokgung, (second biggest palace), and a group of Korean girls started pointing at us and going, “Cambodia,” while nodding, as if they had been trying to figure out where we were from. 

Luckily, however, the general population is pretty easy on the eyes. The good part about all the staring was that I got to have a pretty nice amount of eye flirtations with cute boys on the subway.

Regarding the cat cafes and Hello Kitty cafes, when we went, my family and I were the only foreigners inside. Upon returning to the hotel after the cafes, I showed pictures to the girls at the front desk.

Me: Look! We went to the Hello Kitty cafe!

Bonnie: (one of the front desk girls): Oh wow! It’s so cute! I should go some day!

Me: Yeah! We went to a cat cafe too! (shows pictures)

Bonnie: (gapes at the photo) Are those cats… real?

Me: Yeah, of course they are!

Bonnie: (still shocked) Do you have those in America?

I was pretty surprised to learn that Bonnie had never been to a Hello Kitty cafe or a cat cafe. But as the week went on I started to suspect that Bonnie had never been anywhere, because she seemed to treat every experience I told her about with the same wide-eyed wonder as the last. When she mentioned to me that she only got 4 days off a year, it all kind of made sense. 

And last but not least… 


I had orange juice frequently in the hotel, and it was nothing to write home about. Orangey, a little watery, probably made from concentrate. I did, however, also try a tangerine slushie with tangerines from Jeju Island and that was pretty good. Overly sweet, like I find most tangerine juice products to be, but tasty nevertheless.


And that about wraps things up! Thanks to my friends for the questions! I hope these answers satisfy you!

Typical Classroom Assholes Friday, Oct 4 2013 

Every classroom has at least one asshole in it, but there are probably several. Some assholes are insidious– you never quite figure out that they’re an asshole, because they keep it to themselves during class, and then go home and set their family on fire and shit like that.

That would be an assholish thing to do, right?

That would be an assholish thing to do, right?

But some classroom assholes are easy to spot. These assholes seem to think it is their job to make it known to the world that they are an annoying asshole; as if they get paid every time someone fantasizes about ripping out their eyeballs and shoving them down their throat. While these people are horrible human beings, they can also be easily categorized. Here are two of my least favorite classroom assholes.

1. The Story Teller

It can be nice to hear from your classmates every once in awhile. Odds are your teacher speaks in a soul crushing monotone, or at least it sounds that way to your boredom-numbed mind.

"You call it Calculus, I call it nap time."

“You call it Calculus, I call it nap time.”

However, there is one classmate whose open mouth signals an oncoming nightmare. This classmate is the Storyteller, and for every sentence your teacher gets out, the Storyteller has a long, ass, boring story that they just HAVE to share with everyone.

The Storyteller at work:

Teacher: In conclusion, 2+2=4.

Storyteller: That’s just like this one time my family and I were going on a road trip to Ohio; we were gonna go to Washington but then we found out how bad the weather was gonna be that week, so we settled on Ohio, instead. It was me, my mom, my dad, and my brother. My other brother was going to come but he died of cancer the week before. Lung cancer. He was in the hospital for like a year before he finally passed on. But anyway, we were going to Ohio to spread his ashes. Which I thought was kind of gross because why do people even do that? Just spread ashes everywhere? It doesn’t make any sense to me but it said in his will that he wanted us to do that. I think I read about that sort of thing in a book one time. Like why people spread their ashes. But I don’t remember what else the book was about or what it said about it. So we went to Ohio and my mom and dad sat in the front, and my brother and I sat in the back, just like the equation!

Everyone else in the classroom: SHUT THE FUCK UP

2. The “What If”-er

The What-If-er is the Storyteller’s equally assholish cousin. Instead of telling stupid stories no one wants to hear, the What If-er asks the most asinine questions that have no bearing on anybody’s life ever, dooming the teacher to blankly stare at them and try their best not to curse them out for asking such a stupid fucking question. The What If-er’s motto is, “There’s no such thing as a stupid question,” except whoever first said that wasn’t thinking of the What If-er’s. Because they are assholes.

The What If-er at work:

Teacher: In conclusion, 2+2=4.

What If-er: But what if 2 really equaled 6 all this time and nobody knew because a few ancient texts got translated wrong?

"I'm not paid enough to put up with your bullshit."

“I’m not paid enough to put up with your bullshit.”

Keep an eye out for these assholes in one of your next classes!

An Ode to Wrestling Thursday, Sep 26 2013 

You probably have a cursory knowledge of wrestling. Like if I held a gun to your head and asked you to name three professional wrestlers, you could probably do it.

I have faith in you.

I have faith in you.

But could you tell me why wrestling is the best thing ever? Why you should devote your life to it and abandon everything else you hold dear? If not, don’t worry. I’m about to give you a primer on why watching wrestling should be your new favorite hobby.

(This primer is very WWE-centric).


Maybe it’s unfair, but you generally don’t get to be a famous wrestler if you’re ugly.

But sometimes it happens anyway.

But sometimes it happens anyway.

And even the ones that aren’t all that great looking in the face generally have rockin’ bods.

Exhibit A.

Exhibit A

And don’t worry, there’s plenty of fine looking chicks, too.

Exhibit B

Exhibit B

So even if you have no idea what the hell is going on, it’ll still be aesthetically pleasing.


But if you DO know what’s going on, your enjoyment of the product will shoot up into the sky, past space, and into some alien’s goddamn lap. Everyone knows wrestling storylines can get pretty crazy, and hella complicated.

For instance, a storyline that recently pulled at my heartstrings was the breakup of Team Rhodes Scholars, a tag team who had been competing together on and off for about a year.


They finally broke up at the Money in the Bank pay per view, when Damian Sandow, (the guy on the left), betrayed Cody Rhodes, (the other guy), by stealing a win from him in one of the most important matches of the night, where they were battling over a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship.

You, the unassuming non-wrestling fan, might have been like, “Oh, that’s messed up. He stole his win.”

Me, the wrestling fan, THE TEAM RHODES SCHOLARS FAN, who had watched them go from


to trying to beat the shit out of each other, was heartbroken. Absolutely devastated for the rest of the week night. But having only watched wrestling since April, you may be wondering how I was able to form such a connection. Well…


Like really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, gay.

But still not quite as gay as gay porn.

But still not quite as gay as gay porn.

This really surprised me when I first started watching wrestling because I always thought of it as really macho and assumed the main audience was young, heterosexual men… But then I started really watching wrestling and


it just gets gayer and gayer


the more I watch.


Rated RKO.

Rated RKO.

To add onto the gayness, tag teams, a constant in wrestling since 1901, (says Wikipedia), are basically just gay couples who happen to fight together against other gay couples.

When they’re not fighting, they’re either being adorable,




“Alright, Chey, I’m not into this gay shit,” you may be saying, if you were dropped on your head as a baby. “Is there anything else that’s good about wrestling?”

Luckily for you, there is.


One of the reasons wrestling is looked down on is because they’re not really beating each other up,* as opposed to sports like MMA or boxing. But since wrestling is more about entertainment than trying to kill each other, there’s more space for moves like this:




All of that shit looks really cool, and you can enjoy it without the crippling guilt of wondering whether one of those guys will be able to walk tomorrow.


So, in conclusion, get off your ass and go start watching some wrestling right now or YOU WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOURSELF

*BUT wrestling is still one of the easiest ways to fuck yourself up forever. While the wrestlers try their best not to injure themselves and each other, injuries do occur, and ridiculous amounts of pain are par for the course. All you have to do is hear wrestlers and doctors describe getting slammed on the mat as enduring a “mini car-crash,” and you’ll understand why many wrestlers over the years have struggled with crippling drug and alcohol addictions.

That One Time I Gave Myself Chemical Burns Trying to Remove the Hair From my Body Thursday, Sep 5 2013 

So, even though


we are all, at times, compelled to remove hair from our collective bodies. Whether you’re trimming an unsightly and/or unruly beard, or trying to tame the wild hair that covers your arms in a sweater-like fashion, you are not alone in this practice.

You’re also not alone if you like to wallow in your body hair, convinced that, if it wasn’t meant to be there, GOD WOULDN’T HAVE PUT IT THERE.

I tend to lean towards that side, but a few weeks ago, I too was compelled to rip every single hair out of my legs. And by compelled, I mean, my dad was like, “Hey Bigfoot, we’re in the razor aisle, want to get on that shit?” (I might be paraphrasing).


By “shit,” he meant “razors.”

“Enh,” I replied. I honestly hadn’t touched my leg hair in like a year, (MAYBE MORE CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!?!), and while the hair wasn’t as impressive as I had thought it would get, (I was expecting, like, a majestic mane to run my fingers through and it was really more like a patchy one centimeter mess), I still didn’t miss bending over in my dark shower and cutting myself for like an hour while the hot water ran out.

I told my dad as much and he was like, “Why not get Veet or something like that?”

This. This is Veet.

This. This is Veet.

Veet is a cream that you put on your body, and, after a few minutes, scrape away. During the aforementioned minutes, some crazy science shit goes down that makes the hair fall out. Quick, relatively simple, and, (supposedly), painless. I had tried it when I was younger and I seemed to recall it working pretty well.

So it was settled.


Later that night, I prepared for my shower and grabbed the Veet, slathering it on my legs. The bottle said to leave it on for ten minutes, or like twelve if you had some seriously heinous hair issues.

I finished the first leg, even though I couldn’t help but wonder if I was putting on too much or too little. Besides that, things appeared to be fine. Until I started on my other leg.

As soon as I applied the cream, I knew there was something wrong. The burning sensation in my leg was a pretty big hint, but I was already this far into it– I couldn’t have one hairless leg! I WOULD LOOK FOOLISH! So I persisted. And the burning got worse.

It felt a lot like how this looks.

It felt a lot like how this looks.

I did my best to ignore it. I’m a toughie. But I couldn’t help the nonstop fantasies of tearing away my red, charred flesh as I tried to scrape the hair off. Finally, I gave in and began to scrape the cream away, praying that I wouldn’t end up in the emergency room.


The hair didn’t even come off! (Well, some of it did, but not all of it). I endured that burning for nothing! And the cream left a weird icky residue that felt like somebody rubbed smashed roaches all over my legs. Total bust. Fuck you, Veet. Fuck you.

Also now I have a big bottle of Veet and no idea what to do with it.

Work-Out Journal Monday, Jun 17 2013 

I think the title is pretty self-explanatory. I’ve started working out!

Now, if you’re picturing something like this,



STOP, because I am in awful shape right now and would die if I tried some shit like that.

But anyway, I do want to get some regular exercise in because that stuff is important, you know? Also, I need to bulk up if I’m ever going to become a professional wrestler.

Look at this guy. I look nothing like that.

Look at this guy. I look nothing like that.

So, because I can’t step out the door without having an adventure, I figured I’d chronicle my path to greatness here on this blog for you all to enjoy.

Day 1

I checked the weather the day before, and next to a big ass picture of a sun were the numbers, ’84.’ 84 flippin’ degrees. Just great.



But I figured, hey, the hotter the better. I’ll sweat away the laziness. I headed over to a big ass steep hill a few blocks away from my house. I started sweating just walking over there, which didn’t bode well.

I jogged up and down the massive hill three times, and then walked for another six blocks or so to the bank, (to get some banking done).  On my way back from the bank, I felt a few drops of rain, which of course turned into a fucking twenty-minute monsoon, most of which I spent huddled inside of a bodega, sheepishly avoiding eye contact with the guy at the counter.

I'd say this is a pretty accurate image of what it looked like outside.

I’d say this is a pretty accurate image of what it looked like outside.

After the rain finally let up, I ran my ass home. I had wanted to trek up the hill a few more times, but I didn’t want to get caught in the rain again.

When I got home, my dad welcomed me by asking, “Why don’t you just run on the treadmill?”

WHAT A FOOL HE IS. The treadmill is really scary. Running on it makes me feel like it’s gonna fall through the floor any second. Who needs that?

Secret death trap.

Secret death trap.

The Pepsi Conspiracy Thursday, May 24 2012 

Pepsi is pretty much the best soda in the history of ever.

In case you forgot what it looks like.

Now, you may be thinking one of four things:

  1. “Yes, Pepsi is amazing and delicious.”
  3. “Pssh, they both taste the same…”
  4. “Can we get to the conspiracy already?”

But no one cares about you and your thoughts. The real problem here is that, back in the day, it was really easy to get some Pepsi in my belly. Go to the store, buy a bottle, and enjoy.

But no more.

In the past two years, I’ve noticed that the Pepsi bottles have gotten increasingly impossible to open after closing them. And no, it’s not because I’m a weakling, because even my dad has trouble. So there.

And my dad looks like this.

You may not know this, but Pepsi does in fact have a hotline that you can call and use to bitch at them for whatever reason. I decided to take advantage of this fact earlier this month and see what they had to say about my problem.


I called the number and then immediately hung up, my phone-conversation-anxiety taking over. After a quick pep talk, (“Come on bitch, if you don’t make this call, you’re gonna have jack shit to write about in your blog post this week.”); I dialed again and waited until an operator answered.

“Hi, I’m [name redacted]. How can I help you today?” [Name redacted]’s voice held the tone of someone who wanted to go home right the fuck now, but still had a few more hours to go in their workday.

“Hi, [name redacted],” I said cheerily, trying to lighten things up. “I’ve been having some trouble lately.” I paused, allowing [name redacted] some time to go, “Oh, really?” or something else that would encourage me to continue. She said nothing.

“I’ve been drinking Pepsi for more than a decade now, but recently I noticed the bottles are getting harder to open. I don’t suppose if you know if the caps or the neck of the bottle have been redesigned lately?”

“Um…” [Name redacted] was stumped. “Actually, we don’t make the bottles ourselves. We buy them from a bottle distributor; they’re the ones who handle the bottles.”

“Oh,” I went. “That makes a lot of sense,” I continued, because it did.

“Well, why don’t you give me the bar code number of the bottles and I can report them for you?” [Name redacted] suggested.

“Yeah, okay,” I said sheepishly. I read the number to her and she asked for my address so she could send me some coupons.

So at least the call wasn’t a complete waste.

I hung up with mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was happy to have some coupons, but on the other hand, I hadn’t gotten any answers.

I turned to the internet next, which is probably where I should’ve gone in the first place, because it took me literally four minutes to find the culprit of my bottle woes.

Here it is folks… Are you ready?

Pepsi apparently changed the necks and caps of their bottles in an effort to conserve plastic, which has made them harder to open. Which I guess is better than those new Poland Spring bottles that, while easier to open than the new Pepsi bottles, have a tendency to spill water everywhere as you try to open said bottle. (Or is that just me?)

This is how I open bottles, by the way.

Anyway. The world now has it’s answers. Are you satisfied? Because I’m not. After all… My soda is still hard as fuck to open.

THE ADVENTURES OF KEYCASTLE1388 Thursday, May 17 2012 

I remember the frenzy that people were sent into when Pottermore first went live and you had to jump through a series of hoops involving having to insert all seven Harry Potter books up your butt and then see which page wouldn’t fit and enter that on the site or something like that.

A lot of people had to stop and go to the hospital around book five.

I remember thinking it was all very cute, and that perhaps I might join one day when you didn’t have to circle every fifth letter of each odd numbered book and unscramble it to make the Latin words for ‘YOU HAVE NO LIFE,’ and enter that into the site and pray for an invitation.


That day came like two weeks ago when I was bored and decided to type ‘pottermore’ into my search bar and begin a magical journey.


This is me. I don’t have any house points because fuck my house. Also I am a cat.


Day 1

The majority of Pottermore is unbearably boring. You wait a few minutes for an interactive picture to load and then you can click around and find treasures such as:

‘Send as gift,’ so that your friends can hate you.

As you can tell, I’m using the word ‘treasure’ very, very loosely. You can also discover some shit that J.K. Rowling wrote exclusively for Pottermore, and enjoy that. And by ‘enjoy,’ I of course mean ‘ignore.’

Eventually I got to do some interesting stuff, like buy shit and get a wand.

Which looks suspiciously like a turd.

I was sorted into a house eventually too. Gryffindor. Poking around the common room, I found that directly underneath the big ‘Gryffindor house,’ there was smaller text, that read: Bravery & Chivalry.

Would it have killed them to capitalize the ‘h’ in ‘house’? IT’S DRIVING ME INSANE.

That’s right, one of my house’s main tenets is sexism. GREAT.

Day 2

After that… Alarming discovery, I ignored Pottermore for like two weeks. But my friends were talking about it so I decided to hop back into the thick of things and start pottermore-ing it up.

I gained three new friends and discovered that you could give them nicknames, which is convenient for when I can’t be bothered to try and remember who the fuck ‘ShinyAirBubble666’ is. I somehow resisted the urge to give all my friends really ridiculous nicknames and just settled for their actual names.

I also found out that you get house points, although I’m not sure how. I briefly considered whoring myself out to other users for points, (and I don’t mean begging, I mean literally whoring). I figured it would definitely spice things up on this site clearly meant for children…

… Yeah, or not. I guess I’ll have to get points the old-fashioned way.

Whatever that is.

2 Dream Jobs That I Will Never Get Because of the Internet Friday, Oct 21 2011 

(Doesn’t this blog title just roll off the tongue?) /sarcasm/


1. Writer for a video game magazine

I am obsessed with video games. Creating my own, playing others, reading about them, thinking about them, talking with others about the industry as a whole… And also, I’m fairly okay at writing. So what’s the problem?

Also I don't look like this.

When I was younger, my parents had a subscription to Electronic Gaming Monthly. It was the best magazine ever, and we all devoured it every month.

That is, until EGM went out of business.*

And then, other magazines started going out of business too. You’ve probably noticed some of your favorite periodicals shutting down too. It’s practically an epidemic at this point– and I hope I don’t have to explain the cause to you. Because you’re literally looking it in the face.

Yes, with blogs and online articles and all that good shit, no one really needs to buy magazines anymore. Yes, magazines are awesome, but you can probably find the same information in them online, at multiple sites, and probably more quickly too.

So, while I would be awesome at it… There’s not much market for it.

*EGM actually managed to overcome its economic issues and is continuing to print issues. Don’t expect that to last too long, though…

2. Sex toy store employee, (or even owner or manager!)

The picture above is of Babeland, one of the recent, more legit sex toy shops to crop up in the last decade or so. I know, when most people think of sex toy shops, they think of something scuzzy looking, like this:

But thankfully, some very nice ladies who were into sex toys and feminism and helping chicks explore their sexuality decided to open some cool stores. I’m hip! I love talking about sex toys and sex in general, and educating people about it. Trust me, I’d be a shoo-in for the job. I had this book when I was four:

I’ve been training for this for pretty much my whole life.

But, again, there is the internet to consider… And dillish people.

First off, there are only four Babeland stores in existence. Three of them are in New York. Many states actually have laws against the selling and purchasing of sex toys, BECAUSE THOSE STATES ARE RUN BY FUCKING ASSHOLES.

I'm looking at you, Alabama.

So there’s that. But, perhaps even the most obvious reason is…

People generally don’t want to be seen walking into a sex toy shop. Or be seen buying a sex toy. Or be seen walking home with a sex toy. Or be seen using a sex toy. (Okay, that last one is understandable).

So of course, most people will turn to the internet for their needs. Meaning, unless I start sucking tons of dick at Babeland, or Early2Bed, (which won’t work because they’re all run by chicks), then I’m screwed.


But it’s not all gloom and doom. Fortunately, there are many other career paths I can take, and even many jobs that the internet has made possible.

I just can’t think of any.

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