Catfishing; What does it mean?

You’re lonely.

I’m sorry, that’s not true.

It means that you are lonely AND gullible. Come on, America. It’s time to stop feeling sorry for these people and start learning from their hilarious mistakes.

How can you be so insensitive? 

It’s easy, I just TELL THE TRUTH, which apparently is pronounced “insensitive” and “hurtful” by people of today.

There are no victims in Catfishing, only fools

Wise men once said, “Only fools fall in love”. If those Wide Men were alive today, they would have said, “Only fools fall in love online.”

We live in a hypocritical society. First we make fun of our friends for being in an online relationship but when our friends find out that Tabitha, the liberal Victoria Secret model who owns an impressive collection of Vinyl records (*gag reflex*), is actually Dave,  a guy who is banned from Victoria Secret stores and owns a 10-foot rap sheet for repeatedly taking “artistic” pictures of women in the restroom, we are the first ones to rush to their aid.

Not me, I am the first one to make jokes that are considered “too soon” and “racist.”

Go ahead, judge me; it’s not my fault that they were not smart enough to realize that EVERYONE LIES ON THE INTERNET. Have you ever heard of Facebook or Twitter? It’s a laundry list full of liars and exaggerators. Girls making statuses, professing how much they love their boyfriends (or girlfriends, meeeooowww) only to break up with them a week later, claiming that all men are the worst (men aren’t really known for lying, just for being complete douche bags).

The people who are victims of Catfishing are usually 18 or older, legally considered adults. If we are going to give them the power to vote and to smoke cheap cigarettes, then we should give them the power to suffer the consequences of their mistakes. We shouldn’t coddle them when the “You don’t say” moments happen.

Oh my God! The lawyer for the Nigerian Prince was actually a conman who stole all of my savings!

I gave the seller on Craigslist my Visa card number, you know for “barely used” mattress I wanted to buy, and he bought $1,000 worth of products. And I never got that mattress!

Wait a minute, you’re not a 11 year-old girl! You’re Chris Hansen!

“My Online Relationship is Real”

And Dwight does not mean a Facebook friend, either.

Here is what a lot of people fail to understand; 100 friends on Facebook does not mean 100 friends in real life. If you are lucky, about three friends online will actually be friends with you in real life. Why is three friends a good thing? Because that’s three people who know how big of a tool you are and still decide to spend their time with you. I am the worst person I know; I’m lazy, I smell, loud, judgemental, I make everyone be the designated driver and don’t even have the common courtesy to puke outside the car. I puke on the floor of their car and drunkenly promise that I will “clean it tomorrow.” Yet. I still have five people in my life who know that tomorrow is never going to come and they still choose to be my friend. That’s friendship.

It’s also real friendship.

We have grown accustomed to doing everything online. We pay our bills online, shop online and even FARM online (I swear to God, if I get another Farmville request). Then, someone came up with the wonderful idea to date online. Are we that lazy, America? Are we so lazy that we cannot even throw on a nice shirt, pants and shower to go meet someone for dinner?

But Tim, dating is hard…

Everything in life worth having is hard. We all want to find that special someone that we can connect with emotionally, but you won’t find that by just logging on to the computer. You have to go out, pay for dinner, pay for drinks, listen to others talk for what seems like an eternity and repeat that process over and over again until you find the one who knows you’re a lazy, judgemental, smelly drunk and still wants to go on another date with you.

Online relationships are not real. If I offended you, good. It’s about time you hear the truth. Online relationships don’t allow you to hold another person, kiss another person and see how angry she gets when you say, “Why do you watch the Kardashians? This show is a load of crap.” You don’t go through the growing pains of a relationship; you don’t have to hear him snore like a suffocating pig when he falls asleep during your movie date, you don’t see your life flash before your eyes every day when she is swerving her way through traffic; you just read texts and look at pictures on the screen.

Online dating is basically window shopping for puppies; you say you love the puppy because you see it and talk to it, but you never have to deal with the crap that comes with being with that puppy.

5 Things I Hate

1.) Back to school: When I was on winter break, I had to go to work in my hometown. I would wake up early every morning and work for eight hours. Now that I am back at school, I have to do the same thing, but instead I don’t get paid, in fact, it’s quite the opposite.

I hate school. The stuff we learn will NEVER be used in the real world (Why use the Pythagorean Theorem when I can just use a tape measurer?), I have to put up with Professors who enjoy the smell of their own farts and I need to put a down payment on three textbooks. A university is not a place for higher learning; it’s just a more expensive version of the internet.

I don’t know what it is with professors and assigning three months worth of homework the first day of class. It’s the first day, Dr. Turtleneck. We have until May to explore the fascinating world Media Ethics and Responsibility; which is plenty of time for you to take curriculum that could be covered in 15 days and drag it out for 15 weeks.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the teaching force for all that they do, but for the love of expensive learning, would you all just relax?

Three out of the five teachers I have said that they will never accept late work, even if it’s a minute late. A minute. 60 ****ing seconds is what can prevent someone from getting an A on their homework, which was a paragraph summary over the 60 minute movie you watched last class when Dr. I-Drink-On-School-Nights was too hungover to teach.

And when it comes to tardiness, get off your high horse.When I am five minutes late to class (Because stuff happens; like Die Hard marathons at 2 AM), do not lecture me about being late to class. It’s five minutes Professor Oak, it’s not like I missed anything important. When I walked into the classroom, you were still trying to figure out how to turn on the computer-monitor.

And then when you get back you have to inform all of the people you ignored on Facebook and Twitter about your winter break. It’s just a week-long press conference telling everyone and their mother the one thing you did for a month.

Hey what did you do over winter break?

I worked.

Oh yeah? How was that?

It was awful.

Why?

Because I am an adult. I’m not a 21 year-old child who spends his entire day making lame Facebook statuses about how great snow is. It’s Snow, Numb-Nuts! Not flakes of gold falling from the sky! It’s horrible, horrible snow that all of the kids and unemployed college idiots spend their entire day playing in, rather than shoveling it out of the roadways like the rest of us adults. I had to spread salt FILLED with chemicals, which is probably now in my blood stream and will be the eventual cause of my death at the ripe old age of 35. I had to spread the salt all over the driveways, side walks, streets and freeze outside while you were inside, drinking cocoa and singing “Let it Snow” off-key, like an idiot.

……

2.) Snap Chat: Just another waste of technology and time.

Here is the basic summary of Snap Chat: It’s an app on phones that allow people to send pictures to others. The pictures can only be viewed for ten seconds and then they can never be viewed again.

This has caused everyone to loose their freaking minds.

Every day, I get, on average, five Snap Chat photos a day. The first one is usually from my girlfriend. Her pictures are of hoosiers at the grocery store, what she made for dinner or pictures of herself in different outfits, asking me which one looks best. Humorous, useful, normal photos.

Then I get the other four Snap Chat photos.

All four are from men in college, which already narrows down the photo possibilities……poop. That’s where men are in society, nowadays. Whenever a new invention comes out, men immediately think, “Great, I can use this to display or share the crap I just took.” Men in China and India perform open-heart surgery with limited technology and American men use the highest technology to photograph poop. Just think about that while I get another photo of crap sent to me from someone currently studying to get a Business Degree.

3.) Cold Weather: I live in the great state of Missouri; home to the St. Louis Cardinals, Meramec Caverns and the weather so cold that the Coors Light Silver Bullet Train gets stuck to the tracks whenever it passes through.

Winter is the worst, especially after Christmas. When it’s Christmas time, people love the cold weather. They snuggle close to one another, go ice skating and have weekend bonfires. After Christmas, it’s a winter wasteland; people are mugging each other for warmer clothes, using the blades from the ice skates as weapons and hold nightly police car bonfires.

Then you have to endure the daily morning task of running outside in nothing but your boxers and house slipper to turn on your car so it can be warm by the time you leave for work. As you take a shower, eat breakfast and pray that no one steals your, already-running unlocked car, the inch-thick ice all over your car slowly melts off.

There is nothing to do in cold weather, either. Every try to go bar hopping in the winter? It’s not so much hopping as it is dead-sprinting from bar-to-bar. Why? Because it’s 15 degrees outside and you didn’t wear a coat because no bar has a coat rack and you wanted everyone to see your super-fly, extremely tight, Abercrombie shirt, which you already spilled beer on at the first bar so now you wish you had a coat to cover up the massive, brown stain on your super-fly, extremely frozen in one section of your chest, Abercrombie shirt, which isn’t helping you attract any single ladies because now all of your friends have given you the nickname “Poop Chest” and if history has taught us anything, it’s that women do not want to go home with the “Poop Chest” guy.

4.) Weddings: I am one of six kids and one of about 50 first cousins. I have been to many weddings and each one I have gone to is worse than the one before it.

For starters, the weddings is always on a Saturday; which is the biggest day of the week in the Sports World. Saturdays in the Spring are for March Madness, NBA Playoffs and NHL Playoffs. Saturdays in the Summer are for NBA Finals and marquee MLB games. Fall Saturdays are for College Football and Winter Saturdays are for College Bowl Games, NHL games, NBA games and NFL playoff games.

Instead of watching ALL of that action, I am stuck in a muggy, B.O.-ridden church trying to listen to two people studder and fumble over their marriage vows. Of course, I cannot check the scores on my phone in church because Mom says that it’s frowned upon in the Christian community.

Sure, we all praise Abraham for almost killing his own son Isaac, but if I check the score of the Cardinals game, I’M the bad guy.

Then after Mass, we shuffle into the dining hall for free food and alcohol, which isn’t all bad; but it’s WHERE I eat and drink that helps fuel my hatred of weddings. Every couple that has ever been married in my family seats me at the Children’s Table. Every. Single. Wedding.

For four weddings, I was the only person at my table in high school. For three weddings, I was the only person in college. For two weddings, I was the only person who was legally allowed to drink. I haven’t had a conversation with anyone older than a 10 year-old in nine weddings, which, if you think about it, is pretty creepy.

But Tim, weddings are for hitting on women and snagging a few phone numbers.

Nope. I am related to 99% of all the women in the wedding; and since we don’t live in a meth-infested town of the South, I’ll just hit the bar, thanks.

5.) The View: Good God, what a waste of programming. 

If you haven’t seen The View, consider yourself lucky. If you have, you know that it’s five  women sitting around on a couch  talking about the hot topics in politics and pop culture with the intelligence level ranging from experienced journalist (Barbara Walters) to a rock (Sherri Shepard).

For those of you rushing to Sherri’s aid, watch this clip and listen to what Sherri has to say about the shape of the Earth. The round, circular, Earth.

Good Lord, Sherri.

Besides Sherri staring at shiny objects for most of the show, Whoopi Goldberg and Joy Behar make this show unbearable. Whoopi, who is best known for her great work in the Sister Act and for wearing a giant pile of dead tarantulas on her head, is the biggest hypocrite when it comes to racism.

First she will say something racist:

And then lecture in disgust about the absurdity of saying anything remotely racist:

And Joy Behar, who is known for her easily forgettable work as a stand up comedian (Don’t worry, she didn’t know she was one either, based on her jokes) is her partner in crime; saying completely absurd things, believing them to be true. What’s that called? Oh yeah, ignorant.

According to the Examiner.com, Joy once said that the Republican Party has not been historically “black-friendly over the many centuries” in America. Then Elizabeth Hasselback asked her, “Should we begin with Lincoln?”

Look, I am a firm believer in the phrase, “To each his own.” If you have a different opinion than mine, I will not hold that against you. But what I will hold against you is your lack of knowledge when speaking on a subject. You’re not stupid for not knowing, you’re stupid for having the tools to find and learn that information and refusing to use them.

Remember to leave a comment and follow me on Twitter @MrTimGodfrey

Or don’t; see if I care…………please follow me

Me and Jesus already talked, thanks…

It’s that time of year again.

Young adults flock back to their college campuses with the intentions of getting good grades only to show up to class once a week and ask everyone in the room in a horrid shriek, “IS THERE A TEST TODAY”.

But keeping tabs on the “Intro to That One Subject I Will Never Use in Real Life” (I’m looking at you, Women’s Studies) will be the least of my problems this semester. My main concern will be avoiding the eye-sight of every Campus Christian trying to become “fishers of men” and bug the living crap out of me.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love Jesus. But the love I share with Jesus is the same kind of love that many people in online relationships share.

Hey Jesus, you online?

We never really see each other but we talk every day, we are faithful to one another and I have friends who say that he doesn’t exist.

Regardless of what anyone else thinks, I believe that Jesus is real and I know that he has done a lot for me.

Like the time he got me a date with my high school crush, Amy. Of course, Amy turned out to be a bipolar sociopath. Actually, no, she was a nice girl but I was pissed that she broke things off after the first date. That’s the benefit of being a man; the term “women be crazy” is universally accepted as an absolute truth.

Anyway…

Even though I love Jesus and consider myself to be an “old fashioned Christian” (which means I invade the homes of non-whites and claim this land for God, infecting people with mumps in the process), I do not like to discuss Jesus with ANYONE. Not my family, not my friends, not the priest at my church and ESPECIALLY not the kids who attend the same college as I do.

These kids go around in the Easter-themed plaid pants and fashion jeans, claiming to be the modern-day prophets of our time.

Yeah right…

Simon (also goes by Peter the Apostle or by his Jazz name; Suave Jones), was a prophet back in Ancient Israel. He would spend most of the day on his feet, in the hot Israeli sun, going hoarse from shouting the Word of God over many naysayers who would throw rocks and curse him. These “modern-day prophets” spend ten minutes invading peoples’ personal space and post Bible verses on Facebook. To call themselves prophets would be the same as calling myself Batman because I wear a Bat-mask and run away from campus police after beating up art students for playing their acoustics too loud.

Q: What do me and Atheists have in common?

A: We do not like Christians

The only thing Christians hate more than Atheists are other Christians. Atheists stay away from Christians and if they are engaged by Christians, they will say their thoughts and go right back to their book on tape (The Autobiography of Charles Darwin, read by Bill Maher). It’s a perfect love-hate relationship; I love them for staying away from me and they hate me because I believe in God. Win-win.

But other Christians are another story.

They will seek you out like a starving lion seeks out prey; relentlessly. After Sunday Mass, it’s a mad-dash to the church lobby so everyone can gobble into each others ears about the Sunday Service we literally just heard; which sounds  like this:

I’ve been going to church every Sunday for almost 21 years and yes; it sounds EXACTLY like that.

There are two things I don’t like about my interaction with my fellow Christians:

1.) The fascination with reading the Bible in groups. I have been to a few Bible readings in my time and they are worse than book clubs. At least at book club, you get crack open the boxed wine dish on other women at your work; when you’re at Bible Study, there is no wine and no dishing, just unleavened bread and tap water. That’s why the Israelites fasted, because all of their food tasted like crap.

People sit around in a circle, take turns reading passages and then ask the question, “What did you think of that passage” and repeat that process 29 more times. “I don’t know” is the second-most common answer. “I didn’t bring a Bible” is the most common.

What a waste of time. I’m not taking about reading the Bible in general, but the process of Bible studying in groups. I don’t want to read a page from a book, wait two minutes for everyone else, on several reading levels lower than me, to finish reading the same page and then discuss it aloud with everyone else, on several speaking levels lower than me. I hear the words, “uh” and “like” more times than I hear the word “God”. Then, when we are finished studying the Bible for the day, everyone joins hands, we say a prayer out loud and hug each other because we all did “such a great job today”; you know, like what they do in Alcoholics Anonymous.

2.) Praying with people. When I pray to God, it’s like a phone call; it’s between me and God. When I pray, I don’t want to hear someone breathing through their mouth and saying “mmmmhhhhhmm….mmhhhmmm…Amen brother”.

Two things; you are not an overweight, sassy black woman so stop saying “mmmmmmhhhmmmmm”. Secondly, I am not your brother. We are not related nor are we in a gang of misunderstood street thugs. Get away from me. Idiot.

Misunderstood Gang Members

Praying with others is like ordering an appetizer for the whole table to share; you assume that we want the same thing (Like fried okra, gross). I pray for several things; like family, friends, end to hunger and that certain teams cover the spread. Those are all things worth praying for. End to war is not something worth wasting a prayer on; its the dumbest thing you can pray for.

For war to end, three things need to end first; human stupidity, human greed and human anger. Basically the three components that make up humans. So, good luck with that.

Q: What Would Jesus Do?

A: Respect My Personal Space.

I respect what the College Christians do, except for bugging the crap out of me. On any given weekend, you will find these people in soup kitchens feeding the homeless and in public parks picking up all the blackout drunk college students who passed out on the benches. They roll with the verbal punches thrown at them and are the nicest people you could possibly meet.

But for the Love of God, please keep your distance from me.

Like a wild bear respects a man, I respect your space and won’t bother you if you do your own thing. But if you so much as hand me a flyer to your “Coffee with Christ” social, I will loose my cool and charge at you on all four legs; and don’t even think you can escape my pursuit by climbing up a tree, either. Men impersonating bears can climb trees faster than they can run.

New Year Resolutions

If you made a New Years Resolution; congrats! You’ve made a useless promise to yourself to do something stupid that has no use to you or society that you are going to quit in a couple days anyway.

Don’t feel bad, I’ve made my fair share of stupid resolutions that I never followed through on.

Last New Years, I made the resolution to eat healthier and lose weight. At 12:00 AM, I cooked steam broccoli to have as a midnight snack. At 12:01 AM, I threw away the steamed broccoli because it smelled like Satan’s urine. At 12:25 AM I consumed 4,000 calories of mini-hotdogs and gained two pounds. I didn’t even make it to the half hour. I spent the next few days nursing my cholesterol coma with dark chocolate and Ryan Gosling movies. Perfect bliss.

I don’t know what it is with people and resolutions. As soon as the date on their calender changes, they all of a sudden want to be more adventurous or learn a different language, only to fall back into their boring state of scrolling through their Netflix Que and speaking plain-old, Midwestern accented English (doesn’t sound like a bad night) days later. This happens year-after-year and no one seems to catch on that nothing changes except our waist sizes and our fascination with Breaking Bad (new episodes on Netflix).

So here is a resolution for you for 2013: don’t change anything.

But Tim I’m not happy with how I look, I may want to lose weight myself.

Newsflash, friend. We are all going to die someday. No matter how many laps we run, how many crunches we do or how many times we regrettably pass on pizza in lieu of salads; we are all going to become worm food. So why not just enjoy the time we have here on Earth and have those extra bon bons? Stop running miles and run up to the buffet tables and grab a sixth helping of mayo-fried oyster bits; it doesn’t matter.

Do you really want to spend your precious time on Earth running up stairs as exercise? It’s hard enough walking up stairs once in your own home (it’s 2013 and we still haven’t home escalators yet?), but to do it multiple times in a row for twenty minutes? That’s just stupid.

But Tim I want to go green in 2013, so that my kids can live in a greener Earth in the future

Recycling? You mean that thing suburban people do to make themselves feel important? Recycling doesn’t do crap if only middle-class Americans are doing it, buddy. People in China have to wear masks because the air is so polluted and disease ridden and the entire city of Pittsburgh is a giant methane fart. That crap your doing with the separating of the paper and plastic is doing so very little for the environment. It’s like a 400 pound woman (the Earth) drinking diet coke (recycling); it’s not doing jack crap.

Plus, why would you want to help the environment? The environment creates hurricanes, like Katrina. So not only is the environment destructive, it’s also racist. Kanye should have said the environment hates black people, not George W. Bush. The environment also creates hail, tornadoes, floods, snow, sleet, winds, heat, cold and every other terrible thing you can think of. The environment sucks. The last thing I want to do is help it. If some guy(the environment) was going around destroying my property and he was dying of some disease (green house gasses), I would not help him. I’d throw full soda cans at him.

And if you teach your kids that recycling is a positive thing, they will no-doubt be vegetarians and vote for Ralph Nader and get their asses kicked by all the children who eat red meat and vote for real political parties. Your kids are going to grow up eating grass clippings and recycling, just like you.

They’ll also have no affect on society or the environment, just like you.

 

Sorry, got off topic here. If there is one thing I hate more than New Years resolutions, it’s the combination of the environment and anything having to do with saving it.

 

You shouldn’t wait until a new year to make a change in your life; you should change your life today. And make sure that the change will actually help you contribute to society and not make you more of a pain in the ass to be around. I know a guy who said he wanted to go to more concerts in 2013. He actually wanted to increase his time-wasting and douchiness by going to more concerts. A man in his mid-20′s, wanted to increase his spending on tickets made out of construction paper, to see a band that uses those leftover tickets to snort cocaine through before, during and after the show.

So instead of spending money donations to a charity or buying groceries for a food bank or, hell, turning $100 into singles and treating himself to a Wednesday afternoon of fun and cheap lap dances, this dude wants to spend that money to hear a bunch of young, homeless men sing out-of-tune about the moon or the animal spirits or whatever the hell indie bands sing about.

I’m not making any New Years resolutions for the rest of my life. If I change anything about myself or what I do, I do it on my schedule. I’m not going to wait to see Carson Daily desperately keep his career alive in New York to start my life change. I’ll do it when I look in the mirror and become disgusted with myself.

Which won’t happen because, honey, I am beautiful.

 

5 Things I Hate *HALLOWEEN EDITION*

1.) Trick-or-Treaters: Wow, great lesson you’re teaching your kids, parents; if you want something, walk on your neighbors doorstep and demand what you want under the threat of trickery. You know, like what PIRATES do; and if you let your kids act like pirates then don’t get mad at me when I fire at them like pirates. Of course, with my non-existent salary, I cannot afford to attack them with cannon-fire, but I will borrow money to purchase discount fireworks and aim them at your kids under the influence of alcohol. Just like the old days.

Trick-or-treating is not fun anymore because everyone has gotten boring and treats Halloween like a daily routine. Kids ring the door bell and as long as they are dressed in anything but normal clothes (or clean clothes) then they get candy. No jokes, no riddles, nothing. They get rewarded for just showing up, like Ke$ha or the Kardashians.

*Editor’s note: I dare any of you to argue in support of the Kardashians’ success. We ALL know the real reason why they even got a damn reality show and it isn’t because they make crappy clothing lines, if that was the case, then the GAP creators should be in their fifth season by now. Ke$ha is not talented either. Not in her singing voice or her song writing. Her songs are either about partying, not caring about what other people think, drinking in clubs or wanting to take some guy home. That’s not original, that’s called the Pop Genre. If you want a REAL artist or band, I suggest: The Zac Brown Band, My Morning Jacket, Dave Matthews Band, Kenny Chesney, Johnny Cash, Eminem, Jay Z, Frank Sinatra, Bruce Springsteen and Brad Paisley, to name a few. If the artist has roots in Disney, Nickelodeon or the band Nickelback, they are not good.*

Personally, I do not reward candy to lazy comedians. If you don’t have a joke or if you can’t do any impressions then you do not get any candy. I am not sorry kids, that is the way life works around here. If you go to work and tell your boss, “Sorry boss, I don’t have the expense report or some other typical work-like document”, then you don’t get paid. You get fired.

“Ooooh, just give him some candy, you jerk! It’s Halloween!”

Exactly, it’s Halloween. Not “Give any jackass candy day”. That’s why they say “trick-or-treat”, not “treats.” You either need to tell a hilarious joke or cause physical harm to yourself or my liberal neighbors in order to get my candy. You need to make buying all of this candy worth my while, I am not buying candy just to worsen the childhood obesity rate. That’s why I don’t buy bird seed; I’m not paying $5 a bag so some birds can crap all over my car.

2.) Girls who complain about other girls dressing like “hussies”: The girls I am talking about are feminists, nerds and bi—… jerks. These girls are usually dressed as pumpkins or as cartoon characters from some anime cartoon no one has ever heard of and they can be found in a corner of every Halloween party they were somehow invited to. “Oh my God” they say. “The only reason those guys are talking to her is because she is dressed like a slutty (insert female costume: cheerleader, nurse, desk worker at DMV).” No, we talk to these the slutty (insert female costume: librarian, mermaid, community college professor) because she is confident in her appearance and has the confidence to hang with the guys. The fact that we can see through her shirt is just an added bonus.

We’re adults now, the only time you should dress up to be scary is if you’re a parent who resents their children or if you’re Madonna. As adults in college, we use Halloween to do two things: further drive home the point that we are in a relationship by wearing a matching costume with our significant other and two hook up with a slutty (insert female costume: witch, vampire, cafeteria lunch lady). If you’re 18+ and you use Halloween to host horror movie marathons or as an excuse to dance to the Monster Mash, then you need get out more.

Those in glass houses should not throw stones, ladies. Everyone at the party dressed up as something fun, relevant and identifiable. You have to spend five minutes explaining to every person you see that you are supposed to be El Toro, the creature from Pan’s Labyrinth, the weirdo film only YOU have heard of. So instead of spending all of your time complaining about sexy firewomen and telling people “well, if you read the book  you would understand who I am supposed to be”, take off your horns, let your hair down and join the party.

God gave us all our own unique gifts and to hide a pair of gifts  underneath a pumpkin costume would be an insult to God.

3.) Halloween Hoodlums: It’s bad enough we have to pay for their Welfare benefits  in the next couple of years but I will be damned if I have to spend November 1st washing eggs off my windows and scrapping dog crap off of my porch.

Hitting mailboxes and tee-peeing someones property is not fun, it’s destruction of property and trespassing. Awww, trespassing, the PERFECT excuse to shoot someone on site. That’s the only reason why I bought this 18th Century musket; to protect my home from the invading Red Coats and to to shoot preteens who are trying to throw toilet paper on my trees. Toilet paper is not for the birds, it’s for your butts. Just ask any multi-colored Charmin Bear.

My house will be on Terror Alert Red all day today because my next-door neighbors have a dozen kids and every one of those littler tax write-offs has about five friends come over to their house every day. It looks like Peter Pan’s Neverland over there; except instead of fighting pirates and flying, the kids eat glue and make Jackass videos in the backyard.

You want to have fun? Join a football league or burn stuff in your backyard, you wards of the state. Vandals are known as troubled kids by society because they have had a rough life and therefore act like morons because they have no other way to express themselves. Boo-freakin’-hoo. Jackie Robinson had a rough life and he became a Hall-of-Fame baseball player and a pioneer of civil rights in sports. These little prank-pulling bastards live “on the wrong side of the tracks” and all they have to show for their lives is a receipt for damages.

4.) Cops: Normally, I am a friend of the Boys in Blue, but not on this night. For some reason, the cops seem to think that EVERY Halloween party in the suburbs is running a Scarface-like drug operation in the front room. Why else would they send FIVE squad cars to address a NOISE COMPLAINT in a suburb of Springfield, Missouri? In my part of town, there is a murder every other week, rampant meth distribution and circa-1950s street gangs have been dancing and riding their bikes in circles all over town. The last thing these guys need to worry about are 18, 19 and 20 year olds drinking Smirnoff Ices for three hours.

5.) November 1st: I am hungover, I’m dressed in drag and now I have to deal with the reality that Christmas is almost here. It’s a lot like Halloween; except instead of cheap candy given to lazy people you have to go out and buy expensive gifts for lazy people. Lazy people who are related to you no less! 

Halloween is not only a reminder that winter is on the way, but that fall is already here. The weather is changing, the days are shorter and everything is pumpkin flavored. Last time I checked, I was not an Amish pumpkin farmer, I don’t need to try and shove pumpkin into my daily diet. When I am eating buffalo wings, I don’t think to myself, ‘man pumpkin would really compliment these wings’. Pumpkins belong in pie and in the trash after we are finished burning candles in it for a night; that’s it.

November 1st is also the day where I contemplate leaving my Halloween decorations on for another month. I justify leaving the cobwebs up on my house and bushes because “the rain will wash it all off eventually.” I support leaving a dummy hanging from out tree by a noose because it will “send a warning to the neighbors.” Well come on, if your neighbors believe you are a weak household they will slowly kill you every day with small talk and asking to borrow your power tools. Leave that dummy hanging from your tree and you will never have to deal with another conversation that begins with the phrase, “cold out here, huh?”

The only bright spot about November 1st is that all the expired bags of candy in the stores are 90% off. I would gladly chew on a bag of Snickers fun-size bars if that meant I got an expired bag of candy for $1.

The Giants win the World Series, but San Francisco loses

By: Atticus Townsend, Hipster Sports Correspondent 

Ok, so the San Francisco Giants defeated the Detroit Tigers last night 3-2 to win the World Series. The scoreboard may have said the Giants won, but San Francisco really lost.

San Francisco is my beloved dream city, where I hope to live one day and share a hyphenated name with my semi-attractive, vegan wife. It used to be the mecca of the hipster universe with streets lined with beautiful Easter-themed houses, an over-cooked dog smell that floods all of China Town and a diverse selection of gay raves where one can dance half-naked with a beanie and sunglasses on; simply beautiful, in a non-mainstream way.

But now San Francisco is becoming MAINSTREAM! The Giants won the lame World Series, the 49ers are leading the NFC Northeast or something and San Francisco Amateur Women’s Street Basketball League kicked off it’s season last night. The entire San Francisco area is getting media attention from all corners of the nation and droves of smelly, drunken sports fans, drinking gross beers like Bud Light and Budweiser (can you say, beer-ignorant?), are flocking to the Golden City to see sports. SPORTS! They would rather see over-paid athletes play games than see depressed elephants paint REAL ART at the San Fran Zoo! Typical main-streamers; choosing what’s popular over what is boring and useless.

San Francisco is becoming a sports town and will soon be overrun with strip malls and corporate chains trying to sell us microwaved sandwiches and instant coffee. Disgusting. San Francisco needs to hold on to the small business cafes while they can; like Donatello’s or Starbucks.

Our city will be hosting parades for sports teams rather than proud social groups like the Homosexual Orthodox Jews.

Yes, one could argue that the rise of San Francisco sports teams will bring lots of money to the city which means that city can afford to hold transvestite kickball leagues and the Native American-Irish farmer’s market. But I could also argue that if we lived in a world without money, we could do all of those things for free.

As I ironically watched Game 4 last night on my iPad, I pondered how the Giants even got to the World Series. Seriously, I had no idea how they got there because I got hired as the sports correspondent on Saturday night. I asked to cover Art or Theater but Tim (the creator of this blog) said, “What the hell is art?” and then proceeded to mock my Liberal Arts major. He said the only culture I would see with that kind of degree would be conversations with illegal immigrants as we clean up the Burger King bathrooms.

Whatever. Baseball is over and we can all get back to watching football. REAL football, or soccer, as you Americans call it (*Editor’s Note: Atticus was born in Madison, Wisconsin). But I will not be watching the mainstream MLS or Premier League, but the St. Louis high school girls soccer league. GO EAST ST. LOUIS!

Where I’ve Been…

Dear Readers

I regret to inform you for the past couple of weeks (or months, it’s been so long since I’ve written on this God-forsaken site) I’ve been lazy and have ignored this site. I am not depressed and I do not regret doing so. I have not been writing posts because I do not get paid for writing and no one writes comments except for some guy who has been writing really anti-Semitic poems underneath all of the posts. I’ve emailed him to let him know that I’m Catholic and that he can go hate Jews on Facebook like the rest of us. Jackass.

Anyway…

I will make a semi-pledge to try and write on this site maybe, 1/2 a time a week. Why (and how) a 1/2 post you ask? None of your damn business, it’s my site, I’ll do what I want.

Also, in an effort to get more people to follow this blog and to build a better audience base (because all of you suck), please pass along this blog address to your friends and tell them that this is the funniest blog you have ever read. If you have any attractive lady friends, be sure and mention to them that I am also a handsome man of Italian and Irish decent and that I am a great karaoke singer. Chicks dig guys who can sing even while intoxicated, which is my specialty.

I hope you continue your allegiance to me and this blog and I thank you for reading this while you are on the clock at work.

I Love you all.

Actually, that’s too strong of a word.

I tolerate you all.

There we go, much better.

5 Things I Hate Today

1.) MTV’s Guy Code: The show should be renamed how to be a douche bag because that’s exactly who is giving the advice.

Taking advice about being a man from a TV show is a lot like taking financial advice from Bernie Madoff: sure they both sound like they know what they’re talking about. But in reality, you’re being scammed. Badly.

Guy Code doesn’t even cover the fundamentals of being a man like shaving, barbecuing and how to shout disgruntled comments at the TV screen when you watch the news (Obamacare? My ass!). No, Guy Code covers what piercings to get and the pros and cons of living with your girlfriend. First off, any piercing that isn’t from an arrow or sword is not manly. Pierced ears? Not manly. Pierced nipples? Stop talking to me. As far as moving in with your girlfriend goes, here is all you need to know: there are no pros to doing such a thing. It’s all cons. My friend Josh lived with his girlfriend for a year and his entire apartment was covered with his girlfriend’s things and then there was a small corner in the bedroom where a calender hung on the wall and a dog bed was on the floor. They didn’t have a dog and Kristen’s bed was a single. You do the math.

Plus, look at the roster on the Guy panel. Hipster-like comedians, the kid from the Jersey Shore and hot chicks. A couple problems. Hipster comedians are by far the worst people to take manly advice from. They wear too much plaid and their girlfriend’s jeans. They have soft hands and they know too much about 90′s cartoons. These bare-faced, basement trolls are as manly as the musical group WHAM.

Vinny from the Jersey Shore is not the guy to seek advice from. Why? For one, he dresses like a rapper and isn’t a rapper. He’s a momma’s boy from Staten Island who does 100 bicep curls at the gym, spray tans and then does laundry. He lives the life of an elderly cougar.

And hot chicks cannot give advice on being a guy because they’re smelly. And because they’re NOT GUYS! And they can’t be trusted. These women aren’t giving advice, they’re placing an order for what they want men to be! I want a guy who is athletic and has money and isn’t a piece of garbage…This is real life sweetheart. You can’t have all three; pick one and roll the dice.

You want to be a man? Ask your old man for advice. My dad is a hardworking man who knows how to build stuff with his hands, pay bills online and barbecue. You don’t have to be exactly like your dad (my dad also doesn’t know how texting works and has been repeating the same joke he made on our vacation to the Hoover Dam 15 years ago: “Let’s go see the DAM guide to go on the DAM tour! I want to take a DAM family picture! Geez, look at all of these damn mexicans…), but whenever you’re in doubt, ask the big guy. Not MTV.

2.) Losing Weight: When I was playing sports, I needed to be buff and strong to be able to compete at the highest level. I needed to be 225 so I could impose my will onto opponents when I committed blatant fouls on their small frames. I was large and in charge. Fast forward a couple of years and I am larger and not in charge-er. The only sports I play are on a screen and I stopped lifting weights religiously; instead i religiously lifted buckets of chicken and collected fast food punch cards. I punched more tickets than a railroad worker.

Although I am not fat-fat, I’m strong-fat. I’m not Jared pre-Subway fat, more like Jerome Bettis fat; I can’t fit into a size 38″ waist but man can I run a football. But since I have been long retired from organized sports and have hung up the cleats, it’s time to shed some of this baby weight. All 30 pounds of it.

But losing weight is hard. it’s bad enough I have to count calories but now I have to deal with the three different types of people who try to “help” me.

1.) Your Running Buddy: Running buddies suck because running sucks. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a running buddy and should be avoided at all costs. These Prius-driving nimrods will preach to you about the importance of running and giving your vote to Green Party presidential candidate Ralph Nader. “You’ll get a runner’s high, Tim. That is the best feeling in the world!” Runner’s high is known in the medical world as DEHYDRATION, sweetheart. That great feeling you have is called “dying slowly”.

2.) Tough Love Tom: A Tough Love Tom is an ass. This jerk is the one who will publicly announce “Hey Tim, is that your fourth helping of fries? I thought you were trying to lose weight?” And of course you can’t defend yourself because you have a mouth full of fries. This is also the person who will be cutting the birthday cake at a party and when you come up to get your slice of the frosty treat, they’ll reach behind them and give you an apple.

3.) Fat People: These mouth-breathers are the worst of the worst. These people are still fat yet they are giving YOU advice on healthy nutrition and a strong workout regimen as they are being airlifted to the hospital for their second heart attack. They think that just because they used to wrestle in high school or take the stairs that they are qualified trainers, but of course the advice they give you is a useful as a non-Jewish account.

“You can eat anything you want as long as you workout enough”

“The best thing you can do to melt off the fat is to only eat one huge meal a day”

“Eat as much red meat as you can and eat it as rare as you can. Make sure it still has blood on it when you eat it.”

3.) Fantasy Football: I love football. I read every football site, I watch every pre-game show and post-game show and from time-to-time, I will occasionally tackle people to the ground and scream “SACK!”. I also hold the record for the most subpoenas served for assault charges.

But as much as I love football, I Hate fantasy football, even though I am in 23 leagues. Fantasy football sounds like an amazing idea. Build your own team and challenge your carefully built team against other people’s teams and win football games. But when you are in a league with a bunch of newbs, who think soccer should be called football, who pick up all the good players before you do and beat you consistently, it tends to drive me insane. These idiots put their draft on auto-pilot and get guys like Tom Brady and Ray Rice and I get stuck with guys Leonard Hankerson and Danny Amendola. I put in massive amounts of research and develop carefully coordinated draft plans, I write down draft picks I want, replacements if I can’t get them and then replacements if I can’t get the replacements of the players I want. These guys draft Andre Johnson because they couldn’t draft Jerry Rice. I get spanked royally by teams like “The Boners” and “Your Mom goes to college” every week.

Trading is impossible, too. No one wants to trade because I have Brandon-threw-four-interceptions-before-halftime-Wheedon and Jonathan-out-for-the-season-Stewart. I hate myself for joining this stupid league, I hate my stupid friends for inviting me to this stupid league and I hate fantasy football. American football, not that soccer crap.

4.) Political College Students: Whitney Houston once said, “Children are our future”, then she wiped her nose of the snow she just bought (Just because she is dead doesn’t meant that I’m going to ignore the fact she did cocaine. Just because someone dies doesn’t mean they are invincible. Death pun). If that statement is true, then we as a nation are in huge trouble. Why? Just attend any College Republican and College Democrat meeting or political protest or any class that pertains to media, journalism and theater.

I am a libertarian. I read the newspapers and watch news and evaluate everything from both sides. I take pride in researching for facts and when some pot smoking, Dr. Who watching hippie yells out “Fox News lies!” I want to slam my fist in between his blood-shot eyes and break his Aviator glasses. Your indoors, take off the glasses! For those who believe in this hippie’s words, know this. Fox News doesn’t lie. They actual report the news like every news channel in the nation, with bias. CNN is bias. NBC, CBS, ABC; all of them are bias. You know why? Because they are owned by a corporation who has political views of their own. CBS edited the 911 call made by a witness of the Trayvon Martin shooting and made it sound like George Zimmerman was the one at fault. Why? Because CBS is bias. Just like Fox News, just like NBC, just like everyone else.

Political Students live and die by their party, even though I prefer they did the later because I am so tired of them stopping me on my way to skipping class to talk to me about Mitt Romney or Obama.

“Mitt Romney is rich and doesn’t understand the struggles that the middle class has to go through.”

“Did you know Obama is black?”

College students, adults, everyone needs to stop with the door-to-door campaign crap. It’s annoying when the Mormons do it and it’s annoying when political people do it. At least the girl scouts give me cookies when they come to my door. You give me a bunch of bias “facts”. I can’t eat facts or dip them in milk. So stop knocking on my door, stop stopping me in the street and stop calling me at my home.

You want to vote for the next president, inform yourself. Read the damn news and turn off the reality shows. This is important. Don’t rely on the button-wearing psychos to provide you with presidential information. For once in your life, take responsibility.

5.) The Pledge to Stop Texting While Driving: Texting while driving is bad. But taking this pledge is worse.

If you don’t have the will power to put down the phone and take some pledge that you filled out on Facebook, you really need to rethink your life. We’re not talking about pledging to not do meth or refrain from striking your wife, even if she didn’t record the season premiere of Deadliest Catch. We are talking about a pledge to not send a damn text message. A text message. Kids in China cannot stop learning deadly Kung Fu and perform math at a high level and US kids cannot stop sending messages of this caliber:

“Dunno”

“hey i luv u”

“sup”

“k”

You know what I struggle with? I cannot stop hating everyone. That’s a problem. It causes me high blood pressure, hair loss and sore throats from yelling at every one of you senseless losers. Should I calm down? Yeah, probably. Should I try to get better every day and eventually work my way up to being a kinder person. Sure, I guess. Should I make a big deal about this and sign a pledge and encourage my friends to sign the pledge as well? No. Because I am not a douche and because I don’t have friends to give the stupid pledge to.

The DOs and DON’Ts of being a good boyfriend

We’re dumb men. Plain and simple. We don’t think about stuff, we eat the last slice of pizza without asking if anyone ELSE wanted a piece and we use the same bathroom towel without washing it for several weeks. But I discovered that when a man gets a woman in his life, a woman he can share is life with, he starts to change. He becomes a gooder speaker, he flushes the toilet AND puts the toilet seat down, and he will even get a haircut that isn’t known as the “just shave it all off I’m in a hurry” look.

As soon as I got a woman in my life, my whole world changed. I now own more than three collard shirts. I don’t wear gym shorts to every public outing. I use cologne. All of this is thanks to my girlfriend. She,too, has even changed since she has been with me. She..uh…well she..no she told me to keep my opinions to myself for that……Oh, she doesn’t…..no, she kicked me in the groin for that one. Ok, well she hasn’t changed, but you get my point. When we meet someone who means the world to us, we do whatever is necessary to continue to be with them and stop doing all the stupid stuff that could drive them away. And after 8 months with my wonderful girlfriend, I have learned what the DOs and DON’Ts are of being a good boyfriend.

DO: Compliment her often.

• Women love two things: Compliments and false modesty. You can give them an opportunity to have both with just one compliment. Tell her that her she looks flawless in a dress and she will turn bright red and say, “Oh, stop. I just grabbed whatever was just lying around the closet,”; all while the dress’ price tag is swinging around in the back.
• Make sure they are sincere compliments. “Nice rack” and “I like your….hair?” don’t count.

DON’T: Scare your girlfriend

• Scaring your girlfriend will end up in two ways: You getting punched in the face or you getting punched in your groin. Both are bad. Both are painful. We were watching an episode of Ghost Adventures and I thought it would be hilarious if I were to grab her waist and growl in a deep voice. I now tell everyone at work and school that I ran into a door knob. In both of my eyes. And I slouch because I have cramps.

DO: Make your girlfriend dinner

• What a great idea. You show your girlfriend how much you care by making a meal from scratch and you save some money on the side.
• Follow the recipe. If you don’t have the ingredient, go get it. No one wants to eat chicken fettuccine with hot dogs instead of chicken and ketchup instead of white sauce and buns instead of fettuccine.

DON’T: Make women jokes

• Nothing kills a romantic evening more than telling the following joke: “Hey want to hear a joke?” Ok, sure. “Women’s rights!” If you tell that one, be prepared to walk around with two black eyes and a slouch.

DO: Listen to your lady

• Women love to have conversations. It’s like crack to them. And because having conversations are important to them, (deep sigh) they need to be important to us, too. So open your ears and bring a notebook, because you might be quizzed on what they talk about. I am probably the only one, out of anyone I know, who studied “girlfriend conversations” during finals week.

DON’T: Say anything your girlfriend likes is stupid.

• This includes Keeping up with the Kardashians. I made one Bruce Jenner joke. ONE! And next thing I know, I have a small, woman’s fist knocking out the bottom row of my teeth. “What the hell happened to you, Tim,” asked my dentist. “I, uh, bit a door knob,” I said.

DO: Admit when you are wrong

• This one is probably the hardest thing you do when you’re in a relationship. Because we men love to win, whether it’s an argument or hopscotch, we want to win; even if it means rolling marbles onto the hopscotch board so that stupid 4th grader slips and you defend your hopscotch title.
• But alas, we must always admit defeat; because losing your girlfriend is much worse than losing an argument or a hopscotch title .

DON’T: Admit when you are right

• This is even HARDER than the first one because now you and your girlfriend know you are right and you don’t even get to acknowledge it.
• I got into an argument with my girlfriend over how much a winery tour costs. I said it was free (because that is what the damn website said) and she said it costs a lot. When she asked the clerk, the clerk turned the computer monitor towards us and pointed to the section of the website where it said: ALL TOURS ARE FREE OF CHARGE. I finally won! Did I get to celebrate or say “I told you so”? Nope. I got to take the bus on the way home even though I drove us both to the winery in MY CAR!

DO: Be a man

• I may watch Glee and know all the lyrics and dance moves to the musical numbers in The Lion King, but I am not wimp. When some bro is bothering my lady, they get thrown out of the bar like my Backstreet Boys records out of my bedroom window when they announced they were breaking up. Backstreet, unfortunately, would not be back…..alright.
• Women need men. Men who protect them, provide for them or even just to hold the door for them. Chivalry isn’t dead guys. 90′s boy bands are.

DON’T: Forget how lucky you are to have that special woman in your life.

If there is anything you take anything from this stupid site, let it be that last DON’T. If you have a girlfriend, especially one like mine, you better realize how lucky you are and do everything you can to let her know you appreciate her for putting up with your crap. Like when you fell asleep during movie night when you promised you would watch her favorite romantic comedy and for letting you grow out that gross, upper lip caterpillar you call a mustache for No-Shave-November. I’m not saying we need to be perfect; all I am saying is that we just need to go that extra mile to make sure that she is happy and that she is taken care of. So buy her flowers every once in a while, tell her how much you care about her, for God’s sake, it wouldn’t kill you to hold in a fart when you’re in the car together.

But in all seriousness; call your girlfriend right now and let her know how special she is to you. Tell her to clear her schedule for some night this week and take her to a night on the town. Kiss her. Hug her. Let her know how much she means to you.

That’s what I learned about being a good boyfriend.

And I couldn’t be happier.

5 Things I Hate Today

1.) Chad Johnson: Chad you gold-mouthed jackass. How could you betray me like this?! Why did you headbutt your wife and screw me in the fantasy football draft?! I was relying on you to make a comeback into this cut-throat league and lead me to fantasy victory. But now I have to watch ESPN report your story for the 45th time in the past hour and research lesser-known wide receivers like Danny Amendola. He’s white and short, Chad. And he doesn’t even have Spanish numbers for a name. And wide receivers like Pierre Garcon. He’s FRENCH, Chad. FRENCH! I am not trying to draft a tennis team or a professional smoking long cigarettes team here. I’m trying to build a real, make-believe football team. And as a young, American college student, that is all I have besides intramural volleyball and Netflix. Thanks. Thanks for not using your head (in the correct way, by thinking!).

2.) Media coverage of Kristen Stewart cheating on Robert Patterson: We have high unemployment, a presidential race and multiple shootings across the country and multiple editors have had to make the tough decision of whether to put the Twilight scandal on Page 1 or, God forbid, Page 2! I don’t care about anyone else’s problems but mine. Your wife filed for divorce? Sorry, I am too busy trying to NOT fart in the elevator at the mall. You lost all of your money in the stock market? Pipe down, I am dealing with money issues of my own: should I buy two filet mignons or three? Why am I buying filet mignon, you ask? I am celebrating not being a moron like you, who bought Blockbuster stock. Blockbuster went bankrupt months ago and you just bought all 5,000 shares of it last week, you deserve this.

So the fact that Media thinks that I would even want to read a HEADLINE about an affair between some chick who looks like a dude and some dude who looks like a gay mop is insulting. I am not a tween. I am not a depressed woman in my thirties or forties. I am a man. Give me box scores and real news that affects me, like the presidential race and ads for low prices on my favorite frozen yogurt place.

3.) Nikki Minaj: If her brain was as big as her ass, maybe she would be able to write a pop song that is not only tolerable, but one that makes sense. “Starships were meant to fly”? No, they were meant for space exploration. And what does the purpose of a starship have to do with your song; which just so happens to endorse not paying rent, smoking mary jane and having sex with total strangers. Or as society calls it, hippie life. That’s what this country needs, more hippies. More people who don’t work, smoke weed and take dumps in the street. The whole country is going to look like Oakland if this song becomes any more popular.

4.) NASA: When are we going to shut down this useless program? NASA is  as important to America as a music program is as important to an ALL-DEAF school. It doesn’t produce anything useful and it doesn’t make deaf kids sing any better. The US spends BILLIONS of money we don’t have to send 7 nerds to the moon so that they can collect moon rocks and confirm to the public that moon is still…the moon. Other countries are building weapons and human-like robots and we are spending all of our money making moon-rock necklaces.

“But we found frozen water on the moon! Which means there could be intelligent life on the moon!”

Because you found ice?! Antarctica is COVERED in ice and there is NO intelligent life up there. And don’t even try to claim that eskimoes are intelligent. They are surrounded by ice; no soil, no vegetation and are being picked off by polar bears and not ONE of them has thought, “Jeez, maybe we should move somewhere a little warmer”.

Spend those billions on the public schools, where the intelligent life is slowly dwindling. You ever been in a public school? There are, like, three kids who know how to spell their name correctly and all the rest of them only know how to sell drugs, compete in dance competitions and hump each other. Soon America will be overpopulated with drug-addicted dancers. Then, the apes will seize their chance to rule.

(The Humans are break dancing! Attack! For the bananas!)

5.) Webster’s Dictionary: If our public schools and moon budget weren’t evidence enough to our imminent demise, check this out. Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary, the book that holds all the words and definitions to the best language in the world, American, has decided to add words such “sexting” and “man cave” into the dictionary. Finally! I now know what all of my friends and the mailman are talking about when they use the word “sexting”.

What the hell MW? Are we just going to throw ANY ol’ word in the dictionary? How about swamp ass? Or fugly? Or upper decker? All of those are words and terms that have been used by our public, why aren’t they in the book yet? The MW committee must have forgotten that they are an ACTUAL dictionary and not Urban Dictionary. You know what? Why doesn’t MW just stop printing their books and throw it up on the World Wide Web and let lacrosseBRO69 edit any word his little date-rapist heart desires? Might as well, since MW is adding in movie titles, like Bucket List. Soon the dictionary will be filled with terms like Wedding Crashers and Money Ball and Back to the Future III.