The Life and Death of Dick Nibbler

THAT’S [insert your agenda here]-PHOBIC!!!!

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Unlike the evil munchkin handed orangutan colored President that is the result of the extreme leftists being too forceful with their opinions, I am not a bully.

So I want to give my condolences to the majority of my Facebook friends that are personally offended over the ruling of transgendered people no longer being allowed to volunteer to serve in the military. I know that most of the art and theatre majors that I went to school with either have purple hearts from being wounded in combat or maybe this ruling has crushed their lifelong dreams of possibly dying overseas to defend the very government that they constantly complain about as being evil, but I get it. Dreams are trampled on everyday and it sucks when those dreams are yours.

I know how it feels man, or woman, or they, or them. I have never been allowed to serve in the military because I was diagnosed with asthma as a child and then I got some boo-boos from a car wreck in high school. I workout vigorously with weights everyday, and it shows, it really shows, but that still isn’t enough to prove to our evil government that I am war mode ready. Despite my inability to remember the last time I had an asthma attack the government still won’t take the chance of having to spend the extra money on asthma medication or somehow having my condition compromise the lives of others. So I know what it’s like to be robbed of the opportunity of waking up everyday at 5:00AM to be yelled at by R. Lee Ermey while running obstacle courses to eventually end up in a foreign country where opposing soldiers will stop at nothing to kill me. Even if joining the military is a choice and not a requirement or a right, I feel for you.

It is understandable as to why the military would refuse to put a person as physically debilitated as me in as quarterback of the platoon because of the 1% chance of me needing to take a puff of albuterol during battle. But there is no reason that a person that requires weekly hormone injections and most likely needing a complicated gender reassignment surgery in the future should not be considered 100% trustworthy in battle and in no way would they be a financial liability. It is ridiculous to believe that the ruling would be anything other than a social insult against a minority that the hyper liberal media sources were swooping in on to boost their ratings and ‘likes’ on Facebook. Ratings and Facebook ‘likes’ lead to extra revenue but any high moral media that opposes the current government to maintain their faithful viewers would never do that, this is America.

Look, there are valid reasons for the government to not allow transgendered people into the military. The list of reasons that you cannot join the military is longer than you’d think, and things like having an excessive overbite are on that list. The now transgendered people that served in the military that are speaking out against it were not transitioning into the other gender while they were in the military, they are only speaking out against it because of social justice points and to get money from CNN and Huffington Post.

I also want to add that the military is not in place as a means of social experimentation or proving your point. It is there to defend the people that live in the United States. Boycotting Chick-Fil-A because some CEO made his remarks on gay marriage known and expressing your need for EVERYONE to be treated equal by allowing anyone into the military are two different things. ISIS and other military factions do not give a shit about your “proving them wrong” social justice by your partaking in the military without meeting the guidelines, that bullshit does not belong in the defense of a nation. If you hate super machismo douche bags that go to bars with the intention of fighting scrawny pussies because they scare you then do yourself and the rest of the country a favor, send those machismo douche bags to the army while you stay at home.

It is not a right to join the military, it is not mandatory to join the military, and you don’t even want to join the military anyway. Stop jumping on everything and blowing it up to be something that it isn’t. The liberals and left wingers are completely fucking nuts and have jumped the ship and are swimming in retard waters, and the only complaint they’d make about his sentence is that I used the word ‘retard’.

PS: I voted for Hilary.

The Housefly’s Fatwa on an American Man

Up until one and a half days ago, I have survived this sweaty summer with no air conditioning in my Builder’s Warehouse sized and themed apartment. I didn’t mind it either. My monthly utilities bills were nil, I drank more water, and the outdoorsy feeling of having all of my windows open was nice. According to my trusty atomic clock with a temperature gauge that I bought at a Sam’s Club in 2005, the average temp in my living room this summer was 86.5°, but I never believed that my clock was correct because it was a wet heat. But the air conditioner guy came along and fixed it and the current temperature is 71.2° and I’m not so sure that I like it, and now I have another problem on my hands that I’m being forced to deal with.

Anyway, are you old enough to remember those TV commercials that begged you to donate your money to starving people in Africa? Remember how they would show skeleton people living in mud huts and flies would land right on there face while they stared into the camera, and none of them would make any effort to shoo-shoo the fly away? These people would completely ignore a fly as it crawled across the full length of their face, nearly crawling into one of their eyes or their mouth. Now I’m only speaking from personal experience, there’s no scientific data here, but apparently a human’s lack of response to flies is directly correlated to the amount of heat that the human is living in. I say this because now that all of my windows are closed and the temperature of my surroundings is livable again, I am fully aware of the ridiculous amount of flies that are trapped inside of my apartment.

I know that these flies were buzzing around my apartment while my windows were open because they are flying around at increasingly slower speeds because they’re starving and low on energy, so they’ve been in here for some time and I just wasn’t noticing them. What’s worse is my discovery of flies having conscious thoughts because these flies obviously know that they are nearing death. They have now dedicated what few hours or single day that they have left of their lives to committing suicide in an effort to kill me.

It all began this morning around 9:00 AM. I was sipping my pre-workout of 20 ounces of cold coffee with two tablespoons of cacao powder and 15g of whey protein in it because the caffeine and theobromine will tune you in better than smoking a full bowl of crack and the lil’ nip of whey makes you buff as all shit. If your beanbag is big enough to drink a mixture like that then I hope you have a veterinarian on speed dial because your pythons are about to get SICK. So I’m sipping my poopy tasting pre-workout out of a shaker cup and I decide to take the lid off. I probably had maybe two sips of it and a fly lands directly in the middle of the liquid and it doesn’t even struggle, it just begins to sink. It was an obvious attempt at ending my life by an extremist fly. So my whole pre-workout concoction was ruined unless I chose to take the risk of disease or choking to death by drinking it anyway. No, I poured it down the sink and just had a plain ass cup of bitter black coffee instead.

I’m working out now and the coffee has got my blinkers blinking but not quite as well as my secret pre-workout mix that is so strong it can kill a dog would, and I’m not even joshing you about it being able to kill dogs. I don’t josh when it comes to joshes like that and I’m a notorious josher. Okay, so I’m doing some ass to grass squats to build my goddamn quads and bulk my gorilla squat ass and not one, but five flies take turns landing on my head. Two flies would land on my head every time I tried to squat while the other three perched themselves on the window curtain in wait. Then those two flies would leave my head and switch places with two other flies on the curtain, and the third fly was coaching the attack and would sometimes “get in there” to show the other four flies how it’s done. These flies obviously met up in my bathroom and coordinated an assault on my noodle. They probably read my little dry erase board with my workout routine on it and specifically chose to attack while I was performing the most difficult exercise, the godly squat.

An hour goes by and I’m done working out now and boy oh boy am I spent. I do drink a protein shake or two everyday, but not always. I’m doing the low carb thing so instead of a shake I decide to have a cheap hamburger patty with some whole milk greek yogurt mixed with chives and sriracha sauce on top; it’s odd but oddly delicious. So I open up my freezer and open the bag of hamburgers and a single “we love death as Israel loves life” Palestinian fly glides directly into my bag of burgers. It instantly freezes itself to the top hamburger patty, the very patty that I was about to reach for. I’m angry now but I just say “King Kong ain’t got shit on me!” and I cook it and eat it anyway.

Alright, so it’s a few hours later and I’m hungry again. I’m a short man with a tall appetite and I go back to my fridge to feed these freshly squatted quads and butt cheeks. I open the refrigerator door, I pull out my little vegetable crisper shelf to take out some radishes and lettuce, and what the fuck? Two flies swoop beneath my arm and successfully helicopter land directly onto my radishes. My fucking radishes. There are few things in this world that can tame the tummy better than a tasty radish and two jihadi houseflies buzzed “Almond Snackbar!” and land, they land on my fucking radishes. I’ve got money but I’m not ‘toss radishes in the dumpster’ rich, so I washed them and ate them anyway. With lettuce and a baby bowl of cottage cheese.

Then tonight when I’m getting ready for bed and typing this, and as I said I’m going low carb but that doesn’t include carbs that come with alcohol, so I’m pouring my little cup of vodka and water with a squirt of lime. I’m in my kitchen using a shot glass to measure the amount of vodka I put in because I don’t know why, that seems really stupid now that I’ve typed it out that I use a shot glass to measure my own vodka. I’m serving this drink made from my own vodka to myself and I’m still measuring it with a shot glass. Why? Anyway, I pour a shot glass of vodka and guess who stops by for a drink? That’s right, another “kill nonbelievers wherever you find them” fly. The little fucker doesn’t land in my slightly bigger baller glass but it lands directly in my teensy shot glass of vodka. This fly did it. This was the last fly that I was willing to handle today. So yeah, I didn’t pick out the fly or pour the shot of vodka down the drain. I poured the shot of vodka with the fly into my mouth and swallowed it. It was my proclamation of war. It was my way of taking it back. When I say “it” I mean my enormous lavish apartment.

The window curtain in my kitchen is covered in flies. There are two dead or nearly dead flies in my kitchen sink. There is a dead fly in my toilet. I know that they are starving because I take my trash out fairly often. My apartment doesn’t stink because it contains trash, it stinks because it contains me. These flies don’t belong here. Everything in this apartment was placed here by me and for me. My beliefs and actions made this apartment into the glorious shithole that it is, not these flies. I will protect this apartment from the jihadist flies and their ideology of death and regurgitating on food before they eat it. As God is my witness. Amen.

People That Pee in Glass Toilets Shouldn’t Shit Bricks

FaggotCelebrating diversity is a wonderful sign that a person is compassionate, intelligent, and holds genuine empathy for the societal pains of people from every corner of the Earth. Yet, if a person should acknowledge any identifiable differences between groups of people either verbally or in written form, then that person is a racist and a homophobe and must be silenced. And we should stand by our handicaps and weakest links and censor anyone that makes a statement that hurts our feelings.

That is the current retardation amongst the hard left leaning thinkers in America.

Laws are only made by the government to suppress the rights of its citizens. That’s why gaylord marriages, marijuana, any fun drugs other than booze and tobacco, beaners and dune coons, all things of negro relation except Will Smith, and welfare should be outlawed and heavily enforced by our government. And there should be no gun laws whatsoever because criminals will get guns anyway, but if you tell perverts that it’s illegal to go into the lady’s room then that law will strike the fear of GOD into them and they will obey it.

That is the extra chromosome carried by the hard leaning right thinkers in America.

There are always two sides to every argument and the answer tends to be somewhere in the middle. Every argument, like the bullshit arguments that are constantly being waged between the Conservatives and Liberals, aka Republicans and Democrats, will have people that are so polarized in their opinions that it makes them the equivalent of mongoloids in a Barnes and Noble; they should either stay in the children’s section or they’ve got no fucking business being there. They have no logic to add to the argument and they just end up being interfering background noise.

I’m relating all of this to the government recently enforcing that all school bathrooms allow a chick-with-a-dick to use a urinal and that a not-so-macho-brochacho be allowed to ash his cigarettes in the tampon bin while he takes a shit. I think I may have gotten those scenarios backwards or maybe they’re both in the process of going from cock to cock socket, but you see what I’m saying.

Anyway, both sides of the argument are valid. On the conservative side, a boy has a pee-pee and a girl has a yum-yum. So if you have a pee-pee on your body, you relieve yourself in the little boy’s room. If you have a yum-yum then you drain your baby baker in the little girl’s room. It’s real fucking simple and it’s been working for the majority of us since the invention of indoor plumbing and DNA.

On the Liberal side, not everyone is born with a brain that matches their pee-pee or their yum-yum. There is already some science behind this and as technology progresses so does science. So we’re finding out more about the link between the brain and gender. For much of time gender identity has been bullshit, but the scientific process follows the path of turning bullshit into shit and then shit into things we’re pretty sure of and then probably turning it into a fact. The gender identity thing is between the ‘shit’ and ‘things we’re pretty sure of’ phase, so there’s a good chance that it will someday be a fact. Only polarized morons and nitro-religious assholes make it part of their belief system to deny facts. I won’t agree that gender is a social construct though. Gender roles might be a social construct but not your actual gender. We’ll leave that argument for the man hating carpet munching gender studies feminists to decide though.

When I go into a bathroom I go there to take a piss in privacy or to avoid people. If you are concerned about the genetic equipment that the other people in the bathroom are carrying then that’s all your fucking problem. I definitely have a train cart full of qualms about people blaming gender roles for their problems, but that still doesn’t make me give a rat’s ass about who is pooping in the stall next to me.

Bathroom laws won’t stop perverts because perv’s are gonna vert no matter what laws exist. I’ve seen guys in the men’s room that I was weary of and I just peed in a stall instead. And I’ve had girls look at me funny while I was in the women’s room so they ran out the door and left me to finish masturbating in the sink by myself. It’s harmless. If you look like a Chad and you think you’re a Chad then go in the bro’s room, if you look like a Britney and you think you’re a Britney then go in the sexy grills’ room. It’s been that way forever and that’s the way it should be. Just respect other peoples’ opinion of what gender you are and if you want to be some “gender fluid” bullshit then that’s your own fucking problem and shut up. If you look like a guy then don’t go in the ladies’ room and visa versa.

And the talk of making a separate bathroom for transexuals; no. There should be a separate bathroom for people that don’t want to go to the bathroom with other people. That way if you’re uncomfortable you can use that single bathroom with the single toilet. And of course there will be a line to use it because everyone will want that toilet. I don’t even care about the other people in the bathroom because I don’t go in there to look at everyone else’s tackle, but a single bathroom would allow me to release my inner grizzly when taking a shit in public. The quiet, the privacy. I could stomp my feet and scream while baring down on getting that brown bastard out of my butt.

Oh, and if you’re some fuck face parent that’s complaining about transexuals showering or being in the same changing room as your school aged kids, fuck you for not remembering what your childhood was like. Avoiding nudity in the locker room and skipping out on taking gym showers with others was top priority unless you were a young Shaquille O’ Neil. And seeing that all of the fat American youngsters have a pair of preteen milk duds because of the candy you feed them, every fat kid looks like a transexual nowadays. Being made fun of in the shower would be good for them. They might be embarrassed enough to stop eating doughnuts and their tears would ruin their keyboards and Iphones and force them to go outside.

On a final note, I do find it really fucking stupid that there are people that believe that this should be enforced by the government. It is a form of segregation, but businesses should be allowed to determine their own bathroom rules. If you don’t like the rules of a business, you don’t bitch like a little child and try to close it for everyone, instead, you go to another business. The rules a business chooses will either cause that business to fail or prosper. That is capitalism in action. Demanding that all businesses have to do the exact same thing, that’s socialist economics. Socialism works in government services but not in business. And if you have the right to choose your gender then why don’t other people have the right to choose their reaction to it so long as it’s not violent? And if someone feels more comfortable shitting in the same bathroom that you do and you are uncomfortable with it, then you should find a new bathroom, not them. It isn’t a war, it’s a compromise.

This whole thing is a non issue and if you have strong feelings towards it then you are one of the polarized fuck faces that is making this country suck. Christ, I listened to way too much NPR and Fox News this weekend.

Chick-Fil-A is Delicious and the Homobutt Movement is Now Digging Its Own Grave

Hilary Trump

 

I doubt that I’ll be able to say everything that I want to say in this post, but I’ll try. So a majority of the UNK student body voted to have Chick-Fil-A as the new shitty fast food place on campus. I’m relatively unaffected by this because I am no longer a student and I’ve never lived on campus, but Chick-Fil-A is delicious and I probably would have walked over there and gotten take-out every now and then. That’s a testament to fast food because I can count on my fingers how many times I eat shitty fast food in a year, but Chick-Fil-A really is pretty good.

Despite receiving a majority vote, which is how democratic voting works, a minority of students, namely them gay types, demanded that Chick-Fil-A not be allowed to open a restaurant on campus and won. This is because of a fairly benign comment made by the Chick-Fil-A CEO four years ago on how he believed in old school marriage. I’m all for gay rights but with the current PC Extremist movement sweeping virtually every school in America right now, I’d think at some point these overly sensitive dumbshits would realize that they have become the biggest opponents of free speech and personal beliefs. I think super religious people are brainwashed idiots but these victims of naughty looks and “micro aggressions” imposed on them by evil CIS scum like myself are now the most regressive group in the country. I understand sticking up for yourself but when you refuse people the right to run a business because one of their bosses said something, they didn’t do something but they simply said something harmless that they personally believe, then you are the censoring asshole. And if you’re going to tell me that it’s a case of the oppressed becoming the oppressor then congratulations, you’ve just named your group as being the biggest retards in the room.

The term ‘oppressed becoming the oppressor’ is another saying for a backlash. When a door swings too far to the right then it is going to come back and swing too far to the left. This will happen until shit evens out and the door is eventually closed. Right now that door is swung way over to the fucking left and nominees like Trump and Sanders will probably be the norm until the door comes more towards the middle again.

And all of this gender identity bullshit too. You know, I saw this thing on John Oliver where they interviewed an obvious man that was transitioning into a woman and was being interviewed by some news channel. They said he was a transgendered woman and the weather man said, “So wait. Is she a man or a woman?” Then John Oliver acted like that guy was an idiot for asking that.

John Oliver is funny as hell but fuck him for doing that because that is an issue. Being a child of the 80’s I never thought that I would say that I know more than one transgendered person personally but oddly I do. The thing is that you are only transgendered while you are switching over to the opposite gender and the whole point of the transgendering or whatever you want to call it is to become the opposite gender. So wouldn’t you just want to identify as the opposite gender rather than labeling yourself as in between? Because that’s the whole point of the process. Just fucking choose whether you are a man or a woman and people will be fine with it. You don’t have a corner on the market when it comes to feeling awkward in your own body and you’re not allowed to invent new imaginary labels to define yourself and then demand that everyone knows these imaginary labels if they don’t want to be called simple minded. I mean, fuck you for being such self absorbed little shits. Pansexual? Just say you’re willing to fuck everything. Bisexual? Sounds like a toned down version of pansexual. Gender fluid? I spray gender fluid on a girl’s face after I pull out.

Let me talk about election stuff for a second. I am an independent voter. And I am a real independent voter because I have voted both Democrat and Republican because it’s a fucking democracy and I hate people that refuse to celebrate that fact by choosing ahead of time on which party they’re going to vote for. Hardcore Republicans just love to proclaim that some Democrat or Liberal is like Hitler, but if an all American Hitler is ever elected it will be because the followers of his/her party will blindly vote for them based on their party and not on what they say.

Anyway, real briefly here; about Trump and Bernie. Trump is the result of the politically correct movement that this young generation of pussies is enforcing on everyone and Sanders is the result of Obama voters not getting the change they were promised. While these two candidates are extreme opposites, everyone seems to be missing the wonderful fact that neither candidate is the front runner that their own party wants. I am on the fence between the two because I have read all of Donald Trump’s books and I must admit that I am a bit of fanboy bitch with him. He really does understand how the economy works and it pisses me off that he isn’t pushing that more. I think it was in his book “Why We Want You to Be Rich” that he gave a whole spiel about how stupid the people in our government were and that he would love to fix the American economy because he owes America everything he has. That book is over a decade old too. He also said in “The Art of the Deal” that the key to gaining attention and stealing it from others is to continuously say outlandish things in the press, and that he would be in the headlines his entire life because he knows that to be true. I admire him for living up to his own words in that sense. Another fun fact is that in the early 90’s while Trump and some rich asshole friends were in a limousine going to a Paula Abdul concert, they saw a man mugging another man with a baseball bat. Trump made the limo driver stop the car and Trump stopped the mugger and then went to the Paula Abdul concert like nothing happened. When a journalist asked Trump about the mugging all he said was, “I didn’t think you guys would find out about that.” That’s a true story, look it up.

I also like Bernie Sanders because while I realize that his plans are just as out there as Trump’s plan to build the Great Wall of Houston, I do like his attitude. I think we need someone with a his attitude in the White House. Maybe not as President but in the White House. Because I agree that healthcare needs to be free to the public and now that a college degree is about the same as a high school degree, college education needs to be affordable. With student loans hovering around the $1 trillion mark I can tell you that if the job market takes a serious sudden hit and a majority of those students are unable to pay their loans then this country will immediately be shot into another economic collapse. Well, it won’t exactly work like that but it’ll still be a collapse, and that’s the only reason I support increasing the minimum wage as a cushion to catch those students and soften the blow.

But here’s my big issue with the Bernie followers. When I see his supporters standing in line at Starbucks and using their iPhone to make posts on Facebook and Twitter about how evil corporations are and how capitalism is wrong; I just can’t stop shaking my head at how fucking stupid they are. Everything they own is the result of corporations and capitalism. These people have absolutely no idea as to how the economy works and why the economy is the source of every problem and solution that this country faces. You know why so many black people are living in poverty? Because decades ago they were forced to live in the shittiest parts of the city. There’s no jobs or opportunity in the shittiest parts of a city and if you expect the city to throw all of their money into improving a part of the city that has a history of producing nothing, then you should move to another city because that one is about to go broke. Spending a majority of government money on bringing up the bottom class sounds great in theory but it’s more like a case of the failed “No Child Left Behind” plan being thrown onto the country as a whole. America is not on the gold standard and if we went back to the gold standard then this country would sink for an endless list of reasons. The U.S. has a currency and our gold is our economy and the output of American businesses. Our government already taxes the living shit out of businesses because that’s our government’s gold, and that’s what needs to be dealt with.

 

Fuck it. I’m going to go lift some weights now. Because I identify as a man. Goddammit.

I Am a Computer Wizard

One million planet Earths can fit inside of our sun, and 9.3 billion of our suns could fit into the hypergiant star called VY Canis Majoris, and now there are even bigger stars that have been discovered. We’re not even specs of dust, we’re pieces of atoms pointlessly floating throughout an endless vacuum filled with an infinite amount of shit that could make all life that we know of extinct in an instant. Even if we master the art of space travel we must leave the Milky Way because it’s supposed to collide with Andromeda in 4 billion years, and if humans do leave the Milky Way I doubt there will be stories told of our dumb shit Facebook posts in other galaxies.

Being that we are random fleas on a dog’s ass and all that any of us will ever do will eventually be forgotten, you should embrace the things that give you joy. Joy is really just a chemical reaction in your brain’s reward system but that’s all we’ve got. If you like money, try to make a lot of money. If you like sex then perfect your ability of getting laid. If you like whatever else then yeah, do what you got to do to get that good feeling as long as you’re not physically injuring others. With all of that being said, my laptop brings me shitloads of joy.

I have heard stories passed down through generations or told in Tweets about somebody’s hard drive crashing, but I had never witnessed or experienced the phenomena in person. I remember when I was a kindergartner and my great grandfather sat me on his knee and told me the story of Earnest Hemingway’s death. He said that Hemingway had spent 25 years culminating his life’s adventures and works into one grand story that would have changed the literary world forever after. When Hemingway finished the story, and after spending hours reading over his finest work, feeling the joy of accomplishment while staring at his computer screen, he clicked on ‘Save’ and his hard drive crashed, erasing everything; and then Earnest took out his favorite shotgun and blew his brains out. I remember that I couldn’t fall asleep that night after hearing that story, and I prayed to the Spaghetti Monster that I never be punished with a crashed hard drive, and I wondered why my great grandpa would tell a story like that to a 5 year old.

Well low and behold, last week my hard drive crashed. Wikipedia says Hemingway died in 1961 and I would have thought that either Bill Gates or Steve Jobs would have improved their hard drives in the 54 years since his death, but apparently not. I wasn’t even looking at porn even though I probably had porn on at least one of the tabs that were open, because I’m a guy, but I was watching random Youtube videos at the time. I clicked on one and got the spinning wheel in the middle of my screen and an audible clicking sound from inside my computer. I turned it off and on again like every computer expert would recommend and got a solid white screen.

Luckily, I have an Ipad and an Iphone and an Internet. So I found all sorts of stuff I should do and I used a disk that came with the computer and ran a diagnostics thing on it and boom, it said the hard drive is poop. I got online with the Apple store because I’m not a computer programmer or a “gaymer” and I just want a computer that I can use as a computer and I don’t have to take a fucking Microsoft class to figure out how to print something with it. But the downside is how ridiculously expensive Apple stuff is. So a new hard drive and service and all that from Apple would be over $400 and there ain’t no way in hell I’m going to pay that. So I went into a full on self education crash course of how computers work. I learned terms like “motherboard” and “solid state drive” and “fedora” and “virginity” and I can basically build a computer myself now.

I found a website that is centered entirely on selling knockoffs and improved components for Apple products for dirt cheap. I ordered a 1 terabyte, 7200 RPM hard drive for my Macbook Pro for $72 that included free shipping, a 3 year warranty, a video on how to install it, and the gift of constantly receiving emails from them every god damn day. It took 10 minutes to unscrew all the little screwies and open up the computer and only 2 minutes to replace the hard drive. Then I spent 48 hours updating the operating system and trying to get all the programs and shit I had before but tried my best to do it without spending any money and I succeeded. Lordy bagordy it’s like a brand new and much better computer now! Everything I had saved on it is gone forever because I’m an idiot that has an external hard drive that I only use for editing videos, but now it has twice the memory, flash saving or something like that, my battery fully charges again and the replacement warning for it is gone, I can actually do the upgrades on my computer now, and I’m crying a little bit as I type this. I’m crying tears of joy because this computer brings so much happiness into my life. And now it’s back, my baby is back, everything I’ve written is erased but she’s back. And I am embracing it right now. And then I’m going to watch porn on it.

Lance Armstrong in the Bedroom

Lance Armstrong in the Bedroom

By Lucas Cox

JEFF (Male, Age late 20’s to early 30’s, chubby and balding)

DOUG (Male, Age late 20’s to early 30’s)

AUBREY (Female, Age late 20’s to early 30’s, petite and thin)

Setting: A living room with two reclining chairs.

DOUG: So, is Aubrey still handling her cancer thing pretty well?

JEFF:  Oh yeah dude, she’s doing great.

DOUG: Great? What? Is her cancer gone or in remission or something?

JEFF: No. At least I hope not.

DOUG: Jesus Christ man. Why in the hell would you say something like that about your wife?

JEFF: Dude, she looks the best she’s looked since college. They should put cancer in a can and sell it at health food stores. Lymphoma Lite or the Lazy Lymphoma Diet.

DOUG: I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Her fricking hair is gone and she looks like a damn skeleton. How can you tell me that she looks better than she did in college?

JEFF: I didn’t say she looks better than she did in college. She was sexy as all hell when we were in college, her body was nails, God she was hot. Oh, and I said that she looks the best she’s looked since college.

DOUG: She looks like absolute death!

JEFF: Well maybe it should be called the Death Diet then. I admit that I miss her hair sometimes. And she’s as pale as a dead polar bear, and her eyes are always bloodshot with bags under them, and her skin is all dry and ashy, her breasts have deflated a few cups, and sometimes she has to stop and vomit during sex, or I suppose she vomits during anything… but I am telling you dude, her body is so hot now! She’s lost almost two hundred pounds now! I mean, I never thought that I would ever be married to, or even be living with something that would be able to drop two hundred pounds of bodyweight and not die. Shit, I work in an office and live in the suburbs, not on a farm.

DOUG: (Staring at JEFF) You are the most cold hearted asshole that I have ever met in my life. You and Aubrey have been together since you were little kids and now you are celebrating the fact that she has cancer.

JEFF: Oh come on, you watched her slowly triple her bodyweight since we graduated high school. You remember Craig’s wedding three or four years ago?

DOUG: Well yeah. I was the best man you dumbass. And it wasn’t even two years ago.

JEFF: You remember watching Aubrey eat an entire level of the wedding cake by herself? And then she cleared half of that table of those little mint things they have at every wedding? And then she ate a ham… not some ham, but “a ham” at the wedding reception? And she washed all of that crap down with two pitchers of beer. You saw that, right?

DOUG: Yes. I was the best man at the wedding.

JEFF: Yeah, well, did you happen to see the look on my face while my wife was trying to destroy mankind with her mouth? I swear to Christ I had tears in my eyes, dude. They were tears of fear. Tears of regret.

DOUG: But you love her. That’s why you married her you numb-nuts! Besides, I think she was just eating to compensate for the fact that you’ve never gotten her pregnant. She wants kids, man. She’s wanted kids ever since she was a kid.

JEFF: She weighed over three hundred pounds and I’m supposed to put a baby in that?

DOUG: Are you saying that you wouldn’t even have sex with her?

JEFF: No. No. I’m saying that I didn’t want to get her pregnant because that would just add more landmass to planet Aubrey.

DOUG: You are the biggest asshole in the world! You don’t talk about your wife like that, you just don’t.

JEFF: You have no idea how many benefits have come with her massive weight loss. I can sleep without hanging on to the edge of the bed because the mattress slants to her side. When I leave the toilet seat up she actually realizes that it’s up when she sits down on it. Her car is getting better gas mileage and she’s eating like way way less, so that’s quite a bit of extra money in my pocket right there.

DOUG: (poking JEFF’s stomach) Well Aubrey may have lost all the weight, but I think I’ve found where it all went.

JEFF: (swatting DOUG’s hand away) Kiss my ass.

DOUG: I’m just pointing out the fact that you’re bitching about how fat she was and now you’re the one packing it on. You are the living definition of a selfish prick.

JEFF: I’m relaxed now. I’m not all stressed out about having an oil tanker for a wife anymore. And there sure as hell is a lot more food in the fridge for me to eat.

DOUG: You’re a colossal dick weed, man. You are a giant tumbling dick weed.

JEFF: What’s she going to do? What? Divorce me? She has cancer. It isn’t like she’s in the prime of her life and ready to climb back onto the dating wagon. I can put on a little weight if I want to, and she’s even told me that she likes a little meat on her man.

DOUG: She meant muscle, not fat.

JEFF: I’m eating more calories because of all the sex we’re having. I can actually pick her up and throw her around the bed a little. And she’s so pissed off about having cancer that she sort of takes that anger out on me under the sheets; you know what I mean? It’s that angry sex. She’s like a bald little Lance Armstrong in the sack. It’s great.

DOUG: Lance Armstrong? So her cancer has made you gay now?  And it’s the chemotherapy that’s causing the weight loss, not the cancer.

JEFF: Don’t think that I’m going to be offended by your 5th grade attempt of slamming my sexuality. I’m saying that it’s like having sex with an athlete now. And you’re right about the chemo I suppose. Maybe when she’s cured I should remove the door on the microwave or something. You know, so she can still meet her dietary needs for radiation.

DOUG: Microwaves don’t work that way. And knowing that you are willing to shorten your wife’s life in the name of weight loss changes my entire opinion of you. And what will you do if the worst should happen. If she… if Aubrey dies?

JEFF: She’s not going to die. Besides, even if she did die, it would open up a whole new world of getting laid for me. Do you have any idea how many women will spread their legs for me when I tell them about how I stuck with my wife while she had cancer, and then she died? I’ll lose my hearing from the thundering sounds of panties dropping wherever I go.

(DOUG is staring at JEFF. He is completely dumbstruck over the heartlessness of what JEFF has just told him)

(AUBREY enters the room. She is smiling and carrying a box of doughnuts in one hand)

AUBREY: Oh hi Doug! I am so glad you’re here! I have got the greatest news!

(DOUG stands and AUBREY hugs him)

JEFF: (looking at the box of doughnuts) Are those for me hun?

AUBREY: Unfortunately, no. Today I am celebrating because my cancer is in full remission!

JEFF: (stands and hugs AUBREY) Oh my god honey! That’s great!

DOUG: That’s the best news I’ve heard all year! (hugs AUBREY again)

AUBREY: Yes! And now I feel great and I have my appetite back!

DOUG: I’ll call my wife and the four of us will go out for dinner tonight!

JEFF: (taking cellphone from his pocket) I’ll make reservations at Spago! We’re going to eat like royalty tonight!

AUBREY: No. Let’s not go to Spago’s. It’s too expensive and I would rather go to a place that has a buffet. Oh my god, I am starving! I haven’t felt hunger in almost a year and I have to say that I have missed this feeling a lot! I’m going to order some pizzas. You guys want anything?

JEFF: No baby, I’m good.

DOUG: I’ll have some cheesy bread if you’re calling Domino’s.

AUBREY: Actually I was leaning more towards Pizza Hut. Oh well, I’ll order from both. And then we can clean up and go out for dinner tonight!

DOUG: Let me call Kayla and have her come over to have some pizza with us. She’ll love to hear the good news.

AUBREY: Oh yes! I’ll order another pizza so I won’t have to share!

(she begins to exit the room but stops)

Either of you guys want a doughnut? It was the discount dozen at Krispy Kreme’s and I’d offer one to you both, but there’s only one left.

JEFF: (taking the last doughnut from the box) Thanks honey.

(AUBREY exits the room)

DOUG: This is great news!

JEFF: (slowly and sadly eating the doughnut) Yup. It sure is.

DOUG: Oh don’t tell me that you’re pissed about your wife beating cancer and getting her life back.

JEFF: That isn’t what’s bothering me at all.

DOUG: Well what is it? Tonight you can have that happy, live like there’s no tomorrow sex. And she won’t throw up on you either.

JEFF: Don’t be so sure. She’s probably going to have two large pizza’s to herself, wash them down with two liters of Mountain Dew, then she’ll throw a couple kilos of buffet food down her gullet along with beer and soda tonight. Oh, and she’s already eaten eleven doughnuts by the way.

DOUG: You are the biggest asshole in the universe!

AUBREY: (yelling from offstage) I just ordered three extra larges from Domino’s and three more extra large from Pizza Hut! Oh, and don’t worry, I got lots of cheesy bread too! Do you think I should call them back and order more if Kayla’s going to be coming over? Yeah, I’m going to call Domino’s and get another large!

JEFF: Shit. (staring straight forward and finishing his doughnut)

THE END

My Strange Addiction: Lofty Lusts

I have trouble getting an erection because I drink too much. Or maybe I drink too much because I have trouble getting an erection. But more than likely it’s because I watch way too much porn… everyday… several times a day. If there is a hell, then Satan is waiting for me to die so I can go down there and show him the best porn websites because I know all of them. I know the address to porn sites that haven’t even been created yet. I know sexual moves too perverse to be invented.

So I saw the movie “Don Jon” during Christmas break and aside from having a nice apartment and getting actual sex every week like my bro-crush Joseph Gordon-Levitt does in the movie, that film is a documentary about my life. I wake up, I look at porn, I workout, then I eat, while looking at porn, I go to class, somebody has a smartphone, and I show them porn on it, I go home, I look at porn, I workout, I look at porn, I go to my bathroom, I shower in porn, I brush my teeth in the shower—with porn, I porn my porn—with porn, I pop some porn in my popporn bowl, then I porn the porn with a porn full of porn until I porn my porn with porn, then I go to bed, and dream of porn.

I bring up the subject of pornography because right now I am watching the 2013 Adult Video News awards on some shitty movie channel that I will regret buying when I get my bill this month, and in front of me is my laptop, and on my laptop is porn. I’m not even burping the worm right now while I watch it; I’m just looking at porn because I can. Seriously, I am 105% flaccid right now and just swimming in porn because this is fucking ‘Murica and ma freedoms allow me to do so. My mind is growing and shaping itself within the confines of constant pornography and that can’t be good for me.

So the Adult Video News awards, or AVN awards, are the Oscars of the porn industry. Part of the reason that I am watching them on TV right now is because I have been to the AVN awards and it is bringing back fond memories. I have rubbed elbows and hangdowns with some of these porn stars and there is a myth about porn stars that I would like to end once and for all. People watch porno movies and interviews with porn stars that talk like preadolescent sailors and viewers make the assumption that these people are idiots. Well, I have been fortunate enough to converse with a few of these cock-socket contortionists and anal acrobats and I am able to make sound judgment on their cranial contents. I have sipped a gin and tonic with Sara Jay and Lisa Sparxxx, I had a hearty breakfast comprised of vodka and OJ with the MILF Hunter, and when I told Ron Jeremy that he looked exactly like my dad and he asked me what my father’s name was and I told him, Ron. What I would like to dispel about this myth of porn stars being foul-mouthed degenerates is that– now let me remind you that I have the highest respect for these individuals and my penis believes them to be gods–but yes, porn stars are fucking retarded. Porn stars are mental midgets crawling and philandering at the feet of such geniuses that have IQ’s high enough to eat pudding with a spoon.

But that’s just whatever. I want to talk about the movie “Don Jon” and how much it relates to my own life. I watch porn multiple times a day. I think about porn throughout the day. I have sexual preferences based on crazy shit that I have seen in porn. I have been in the midst of sexual activity with a real life woman and thought, gee, I would much rather be in my cheap Walmart wannabe Lazy Boy watching porn and roping the pony right now. That’s pretty fucked up. I remember the good ol’ days when finding a nudey-mag or scoring a porno tape from a friend would be considered one of the top 3 greatest events of that year, but now porn is at my finger tips at all times of the day. I remember putting “Married with Children” on mute so I could increase the surface temperature of my ship’s main cannon with rapid linear motion so my parents wouldn’t open the door to see why Kelly Bundy was talking about being a slut. Nowadays the internet is everywhere and all day long I feel like a Muslim extremist in a dynamite store. I have porn whenever I want it and being a man, I want it all the time.

What I have realized is that if I ever want to go on and live a moderately normal life then I have to stop living in a pornography fantasy where I have a ten inch penis, AIDS does not exist, all women love receiving anal sex, and that if I pee on a nude grandmother/mother/ daughter/ dog quadrangle they will simultaneously quiver with queefs as they gargle on my dong dew. Instead, I have to make these porn fantasies my reality. I will no longer watch porn movies while fantasizing about being elbow deep in a busty police woman’s anus, I will make that scenario a reality. I will only canoodle with ladies that like it in the can, I will only partake in multiracial multi-partnered cuckold romps, I will say “Yes tranny may I have another” whenever my naughty nurse slaps me in the face with a Twisted Fister rubber ankle, and yes, my only desert from now on will be a cream pie. I am starting anew. I will stop watching porn day in and day out. From now on, I shall live it.

What is the purpose for all of this pain,
Clouds full of love rain throughout me,
Only to be vacuumed into the drain,
Of self doubt and limitless misery.

My love for the world is on permanent pause,
I yearn for the slash of death’s scythe,
As McDonald’s has given me all of this sauce,
And yet I have nothing to dip with.

A poem by Lucas Margaret Cox

 

And something for the classy basement dwellers…  http://vocaroo.com/i/s1s7MwYufsUq

Random Thought About Homosexuality

My fancily labeled Deist thinking prevents me from arguing against lifestyles like foot worshipping, bestiality (it’s spelled ‘best’ not ‘beast’), face sitting, fart breathing, necrophilia, and whatever other weird but harmless shit some people are into. The thing that all of these weird “lifestyles” have in common is that they are sexual fetishes that have been accepted by their followers as being a way of life. Now, what if, just what if, homosexuality is nothing more than a fetish that has been accepted by its followers as a lifestyle?

 

 

People that share the same fetish tend to form groups with others that share their same interests and to support each other, they normally have websites that exploit their sexual desires through pictures and videos for the purpose of fapping to them, and the individual with the fetish usually suffers from stress while coming to terms with their unusual sexual desire for a specific body part, piece of clothing, age group, or maybe even their own gender. This sounds a lot like what a person with homosexual thoughts goes through. Also, a person normally develops a fetish due to something that happens to them in their youth and it has been shown that people who were molested by or had sexual encounters with members of their own gender during their childhood tend to grow into adults that have sexual interest in members of their own sex and maybe feelings of pedophilia as well. I think that’s part of the reason that lots of people think that homo equals pedo, but I think it’s because most older guys look like shit.

 

 

Take me for example. I am a devout ass man. If I am unable to find an attractive quality in a girl’s ass then it’s just not going to work between her and I. I mean, if her ass is too fat or too bony then shit starts going wrong and the bitch needs to be kicked to the curb. Not only that, but I dig girls with short hair. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a fetish because I’ve only ever actually dated one girl that had short hair, but the first three girls that I ever had a crush on as a child all had short hair now it enhances my chubbies. As a child I had crushes on these girls with short hair because they did cool things like play soccer with me and they were tomboys, but they gave me tingles and kiddy boners and that grew into me being an adult that likes shorthaired girls. Add the fact that I am a huge fitness freak and prefer fit ladies and you have a guy that likes muscular girls with a firm ass and short hair. With that list of sexual preferences the only thing that prevents me from jerking off to pictures of Justin Bieber is that her first name is Justin. I consider the fitness thing to be more of a preference to me but I can see how it’s a bit of a fetish. I might dig out unfit girls but I won’t date them, unless they’re rich or famous. But seriously, the only thing that keeps me from being gay is my distaste for body hair and peeners. 

 

 

The counter to the idea of homosexing being a fetish is that when I was a Pre-K teacher (true story) I saw a few kids that showed signs of being gay. The one that stands out the most was a five year old boy in Littleton Colorado named Cody that was athletic and bigger than the other kids his age, he looked perfectly normal, his parents dressed him like a boy, but he was gayer than MTV. The kid only hung out with other girls, he played dress-up and tea party, his favorite colors were pink and purple, for show and tell he brought his life sized Barbie doll head to show how he loved to brush her hair, and he looked at the other boys the same way the girls did. I excused myself to go to the bathroom when he began to brush his Barbie doll’s hair because I was laughing so hard that I feared losing bowel control. But what I’m saying is that he was only five years old and he was a boy, but in every way he was like a little girl. I don’t care what anyone says, a five year old is unable to choose whether they are gay or not. About 1 out of every 1,000 babies are born with Klinefelter syndrome or some sort of sexual defect and who’s to say that those defects can’t go past being physical, but are psychological as well. I really don’t think that being gay is genetic because it is impossible to create a child by having sex with someone of your own gender, so the gene wouldn’t exactly be easily past on because at least one of the participants in the baby making process would have to be at least moderately heterosexual.  

 

 

On a side note, this is a story that I’ve told to others several times but this five-year-old Cody kid was picked on by some of the other boys because he acted so girly. I can’t remember this one little Puerto Rican boy’s name and I got along with the kid, but he would pick on Cody whenever he got a chance. So one time while I was outside being the lord of the playground during recess, Cody came up to me whining like a bitch about the Puerto Rican boy picking on him. Now Cody was six inches taller than all of the other boys and could probably put up a good fistfight even with myself, so I told Cody to stick up for himself. Cody marched over to the Puerto Rican kid and laid him out with one punch. I had to call Cody’s dad because that was the school’s policy and I got in trouble for telling Cody to stick up for himself instead of putting the Puerto Rican kid in time-out, but when Cody’s dad came to pick him up from school, the dad shook my hand and gave me a little hug. He was happy that I had put Cody in a position where he had to give up his faggy ways in order to do something manly like punching another boy in the face. Even if this manliness only lasted for a moment, it made Cody’s father proud and he thanked me for it. Cody cried like a little girl that got mud on her dress while he climbed into the passenger side of his father’s truck, and his dad drove off with a little smile on his face. A good parent will love their child no matter what but that isn’t to say that it isn’t difficult for them.   

 

 

I’m sure that the idea of homosexuality being a fetish has been argued but I’ve never heard it before, and I think it’s a valid argument. Something that pisses me off about people that are against homosexuality or whatever else because of their religious beliefs is that they’re too fucking stupid to put up a legit argument to defend their opinions. This gay being a fetish thing is just something that I was pondering the other day when I was listening to Lady Gaga and watching “So You Think You Can Dance?” while nibbling on some Vanilla Wafers with yogurt and a cosmopolitan to wash it down with, and I thought that I should share it.

 

Dear Facebook Diary (10/31/12)

 

 

I am currently in the process of growing a beard for the purpose of showing my support for Romney’s “shave yer jobs” campaign as well as showing my discontent for Paul Ryan’s intimidating hairline. I have also been growing it for tonight, which is of course Halloween. My costume was to be a deadly CIA agent with a triple black belt in the martial art of Nguni Stick Fighting and working on an MFA in the Canadian Okichitaw fighting style. Of course these CIA agents are always working undercover and I was disguising myself as a bearded man from a small town in Wyoming, but nobody really understood my costume so I decided not to go out tonight.

 

Okay, now back to the subject of my beard. I am three weeks deep in the growing of this beard and it looks like shit. My mustache grows at five times the rate of all my other facial hair and it makes my upper lip look very over powering, almost as if I have a hairy overbite. Although this current beard looks like shit, it is not the first beard that I have grown. It isn’t even the sixth or eighth beard that I’ve grown. The first beard that I ever grew was the most miraculous beard that has ever planted its roots upon my face. It was a beard that I grew when I was at the tender age of sixteen, and it is a beard that carried a notorious reputation throughout the latter half of my high school career.

 

When I was sixteen years old I had already gotten into a fair amount of trouble. I began drinking alcohol at a very early age and had already had a run in with the law as well as being caught drunk and vomiting by one of my friend’s parents. So that summer my parents made me work on my uncle Mark’s farm in Ord for the entire summer. My parents dropped me off on my uncle Mark’s farm in early May and they had dropped me off to make sure that I didn’t have a car to go out and cause trouble with. I enjoyed staying at my uncle’s farm and farm work fits me well. Immediately upon my arrival, all of the older and much stronger farm workers gave me a seemingly endless amount of shit for looking like a twelve year old. I weighed about 110 pounds and looked like a little girl with short hair at the time. I made the decision to prove them wrong by growing a beard. I didn’t shave my face once between the months of May and September and the results were spectacular. The top half of my face looked like Hannah Montana’s but the lower half of my face looked like a Kodiak bear’s ball sack. A beautiful round globe of hair that began at my side burns and met at the middle of my chin had sprouted from and covered my lower face. It was at this time that my parents picked me up to take me back to Kearney.

 

As soon as I got back to Kearney, nobody recognized me. I had heard through the grapevine that Willy Bashore was having a sort of “back to school” bonfire on his parents’ land next to the river. I was a huge nerd at the time and didn’t have many, if any friends. I somehow convinced my parents to let me go out that night and I had stolen a good amount of my parents’ Canadian Spring whiskey beforehand. I spent a couple of hours sipping on it and getting drunk by myself while parked in the Casey’s Gas Station carwash. I have to tell you, the best place to park and pound alcohol while in high school is not on a country road, it is in a relatively unknown carwash stall. After getting fairly sloshed by my lonesome, I chose to take the long drive out to Willy’s land. As soon as I got there I saw that the party was packed. There were cars and big redneck toolin’ trucks parked all along the road. When I stepped out of my new 1985 shit-brown Chevy S10 pickup, everyone gave me a “who the fuck is this guy?” look. For some reason I decided to speak with a German accent and tell everyone that I was a new foreign exchange student from Hamburg Germany. I was doing it for my own shits and giggles.

 

So portraying myself as a German foreign exchange student turned out to be a good idea. I ended up having a long and stupid conversation with Melissa Stenehjem about what life was like in Germany. Melissa was the hottest and most popular girl in school and she would have never given me the time of day, but she was apparently digging my whole German shtick. After twenty minutes or so of telling her make believe stories about my life in Hamburg, she pulled me into the trees for a long and moist make out session that she must have learned in French class. So after eating Melissa’s face for twenty minutes, we broke apart and walked around the party again.

 

It was roughly half an hour later when I felt a tap on my shoulder while I was telling a story about my mother’s sauerkraut to some underclassmen. I turned around and saw a male’s waistline. I looked up and saw that it was Jeff Arnold. Jeff was only fifteen and he was already 6’7”. He looked down at me and said, “Somebody told me that you were making out with my girlfriend.” I should have known that Melissa would have been dating some gigantic football superstar that had finished puberty at seven years old. I looked up at him with drunken confidence and said, “Vut are you talking abowt friend?” I was sticking to the German accent.

 

“Don’t fucking lie to me faggot. And yer not my friend, asshole!” Jeff replied.

 

I was scared shitless at this point, but I calmly said, “Dat is not vut your girlfriend said about me. She did not sink dat I vus a vaggot.”

 

As soon as I finished the last word, Jeff took a swing at me. Jeff was just as drunk as me at the time, so our mobility was on the same level. I sidestepped him and his haymaker missed its mark. While he was still recovering from his overpowered whiff, I picked up a log. Before he could turn around I belted him across the back of the head with the log. He fell forward in a dead fall and landed face first on a rock. I stood there, having no idea as to what I should do. Some stupid cheerleader type of girl checked on Jeff and yelled out, “Somebody call 911!”

 

Without thinking I ran from the party at a speed that I had never ran at before. I walked all the way back to my parents’ house from the river because I didn’t want to risk having Jeff’s friends knock me off the road and try to kill me or kick my ass. I had no idea how I would ever be able to show my face at Kearney High School again. That next morning I shaved off my beard. I walked all the way back to my pickup the next afternoon and staked out the place for an hour to make sure nobody was waiting to beat my ass. All was well and I drove home.

 

I began my junior year of high school that following Monday. Everyone said “hi” to me and asked me where I had been all summer. I told them that I was at my uncle’s farm and had just gotten back the day before. People told me about the huge bonfire that Willy had thrown and that I had missed the fight between giant Jeff and the little bearded German guy. The entire football team couldn’t stop talking about how they were going to murder the bearded German foreign exchange student as soon as they saw him. I would nod my head and tell them that I would help them kick his ass as soon as he showed up at school. This talk of killing the bearded German guy went on for the rest of my days in high school. Then I saw Jeff. He had a huge cut with over a dozen stitches in it running down the left side of his face and one of his front teeth had been knocked out. I was scared shitless that he would recognize me but he never did. Nobody ever recognized me as the bearded German guy, ever. Jeff and I became very good friends and I have never told him that I was the German guy. We went to several parties together in high school and the following years. I was even a groomsman in his wedding, and I have never revealed to him that I was the bearded German guy that took out his front tooth and gave him that nasty scar on his face. Nobody has ever known that I was the bearded foreign exchange student from Germany that conquered the biggest bad ass in high school. It is the darkest secret that I have ever kept.