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Archive for October, 2007

I Drinked Myself

View Comments October 13, 2007 | JoshPerson

This one time in the past, about 15 minutes ago, I had a situation that has made me question where my life is headed. I was doing my usual weekend morning drive around, went to get cash, energy drink, then to Wal-Mart to buy a videogame. It was at one of these places that I just possibly totally fucked up my future. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

First I just want to point out some observations. When I went through the ATM, the truck ahead of me pulled up to far away from the number pad, so they had to half open their door and kind of hang out of their truck, it was ridiculous. Why do people still do this? I remember this happening when I was a kid. Wouldn’t ‘pulling up close’ to the machine be number one priority in this situation? That’s what you’re going there for, it should be the first thing on your mind. This one observation is enough for me to condemn everybody on the planet as retarded and name myself King.

My second observation comes from the convenience store where I bought my Rock Star energy drink and Fiji water. The observation can best be summed up as, “Stop It, Lesbians”. I just want to preface this mini rant with saying that I have nothing against lesbians. As a matter of fact, movies of them help me on nights when I’m feeling lonely in the pants. Just stop it though, you don’t have to advertise your lesbianocity with your weird butch, curly, mullet and your leather jacket. These types of lesbians don’t even register as humans to me, but I live in a world where all lesbians are 20, hot, and want to try cock every once in a while with their girlfriend and I just happen to be the only guy around.

Now on to me fucking up my future. I was really tired this morning so I decided to pop the Rock Star open on my way to Wal-Mart. It’s not something I usually do but I needed my energy up to be able to deal with the excess of dirty sweatpants that I was about to witness.

So I whip into the parking lot, and the first thing I noticed the most perfect woman ever. She had long brown hair, she was shorter than me, what more could I ask for? I really feel like she could have possibly been the girl that I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with, I just wish I would have been able to see the front of her…

At this point I’m excited at the possibilities that are now sitting in front of me. What once was a shitty trip to the worst place in the world now turned into a hot, spicy sexual roller coaster with endless possibilities. So I find a parking space and take one last drink of my energy drink when all of a sudden “it” happens. The condensation on the can made for a slippery “set back down” experience. The can slipped out of my hand and I was all of a sudden sitting in a puddle of sweet, sweet, energizing nectar.

In situations where I spill something on myself I like to call it “I drinked myself”. I don’t know if that’s the way I should put it though. I mean, on one hand it sounds different, funny and awesome. On the other hand, however, it sounds like I live in the backwoods somewhere by myself and survive by drinking my own urine/blood/semen.

Anyways, now I’m soaked and sticky and not in a fun way. The drink was all over my jacket and my pants. My balls were pretty much marinating in energy drink. I had no choice but to pull directly out of my parking space and drive straight back home, leaving the girl of my dreams behind. On the way home I couldn’t help but think “maybe she wasn’t the girl of my dreams and this is a sign from the heavens.” Then I thought “what if she was the girl of my dreams and the heavens wanted to know how far I would go for her, wet pants and all and I just totally fucked it up”.

I don’t mean to be a negative outlooker but I choose to think I fucked it up. After all, maybe the energy drink spill was just to get my balls all hyped up for a full weekend of sexual interactioncourse with the girl of my dreams. Now I’m forced to sit home all weekend with hyper balls and the only thing I can think of is butch lesbians.

PS: Here is a video of me I uploaded to YouTube directly after I spilled the energy drink on myself (Ignore the parts about the cops)…

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Incovenience Store

View Comments October 4, 2007 | JoshPerson

I’m starting to notice a trend with my blog posts. It seems that a large number of them are referencing convenience stores in one way or another. I’m usually going to, coming back from, or standing in a convenience store when weird stuff happens. I can draw two conclusions from this. Either convenience store people breed awkwardness naturally and I get caught up in it, or my life is so pathetic that going to convenience stores are really the only thing I do so that’s really the only frame of reference I have for situations in general. Hmm… I think I need to do some soul searching.

Anyways, the other day I was standing in a convenience store, preparing to buy a couple Rock Star Energy Drinks. I buy the Rock Star drinks because I like to think of myself as a Rock Star and I need the energy to keep up with my doing drugs (ham sandwiches) and banging groupies (crying while masturbating). I’m standing at the cooler and this one thug wannabe douche is just standing at the energy drink section, open door in hand, just staring at the drinks. He had the typical white, straight billed hat, baggy cargo khaki shorts, white shoes, light blue jersey deal going on. You know, the type of guy who can really think for himself, and develop his own tastes.

After about 5 minutes of standing around, pretending to look at the other drinks to not make it weird, I decide enough is enough. Finally I’m standing right behind the guy, just waiting, which I’m fine with. I’m a laid back guy so it’s not bothering me to much yet. Then, out of nowhere I cleared my throat. I didn’t mean for it to sound like the “impatient throat clear” at all. It was a legitimate, “I think I’m coming down with a cold” throat clear. So now the guy at the cooler looks at me with a mean face and just says “what”, but he said it in a way that sounded like “wha? You got a problem motha fucka? I think I’m black.”

Well me being the bad ass rock star type, I stand my ground, dig in my heels and say, “Umm, nothing…” as I trail off and start staring at the coolers to my left. I also sort of walked away to go look at some beef jerky because I’m so dangerous that if we would have gotten in a fight I would have gone to jail and the store would have sued me for getting blood soaked into the ceiling tiles. What seemed to be 30 minutes later, but was actually closer to 15 seconds, the guy finally makes his decision and grabs a Red Bull. Probably to mix with vodka or Jaeger like the ground breaking trend following setting stereotype nightmare that he is.

So I finally grab my couple cans of Rock Star and head to the counter, where I stand behind an 80 year old man who is shakily writing a check as I am now about 45 minutes into my convenience store run, (bad joke alert) or should I say inconvenience store? Am I right or am I right?

Finally, I pay for my shit, walk out the door and out to my car. Where I see thug wannabe and his thug wannabe friend just sitting in their old shitty rust Cadillac with these rims that were as ugly as they were shiny, starring at me. At this point I felt like the fight would be more even with them two versus me so I decided to get a little cocky. I put my hand in my pocket… Pulled out my keys… Put my keys between my knuckles… Pulled my elbow back and my fist up… Put the key in the ignition, turned on the car and got the fuck out of there. I sure showed them…

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Cops Are Bored/Lame

View Comments October 1, 2007 | JoshPerson

Saturday night I was just hanging out, doing nothing like the loser that I am, when a good friend of mine from Chicago called. He told me that he was back for the weekend and wanted to hang out in this shitty, small town about 20 miles away from where I live, a shitty, slightly larger town.

We decided that the only thing we could really do is drive around, so we did, well I should say that he did because my car is on the cusp of being undriveable. It was only about 10pm on a Saturday night when we starting cruising around, not really doing much, but the whole town was fucking dead. It was like a ghost town, and me and my friend had to solve a mystery.

Well after cruising around for a little bit, catching up, etc, we decided that it was time to fuck with people, like we always used to. Back in high school, we used to cruise around, start following people, playing weird music while driving by people and asking people for directions to places we were standing in front of. All of a sudden we saw a group of four 16 year old boys walking into Hy-Vee. Perfect. We roll up on them and say “Hey, can you tell us where Fairway is?” To which they replied “Umm, it’s across the street” and pointed to it. There really isn’t any point to us doing this, and it’s not even really that funny, but it’s something to do and sometimes people will give us wrong directions, or are just completely oblivious so that makes it better.

After about another half hour of driving around we see the same kids walking out of Hy-Vee again, so we stopped by them again, this time asking “Hey can you guys go buy us alcohol?” Now, my friend and I are both over 21, and these kids had to be 16, so it was supposed to be funny. They said “Sure, give us $10 extra.” Which wasn’t quite the best rebuttal. Disappointed by their lameness we drove across the street and parked for a little bit, while I was begging for my friend to drive back around so I could ask them if they knew where we could get heroin and guns. It’s a good thing we didn’t, and in a minute you’ll see why.

So those four kids, get into two cars and take off. Being the bored humans that we were, we decided to follow them. We followed them for about 5 minutes before they started going crazy. They hammered on the gas and took off in different directions, one of them doing a U-turn in the middle of the street, we of course decided to follow him. We got turned around and he did another U-turn! WTF? This is the type of stuff that we were hoping for, anything to break the boredom and is slightly entertaining.

Well we are a little ways behind him when he turns the corner, a couple seconds later we fly around the corner only to see our 16 year old buddies, talking to a cop car! Okay, they weren’t exactly talking to the cop car, they were actually just talking to the cops inside the cop car. You don’t have to make fun of my lack of ability to express words. Dick!

So of course we slow down, and hang a right. Then the cop starts following us. The cop had to have been following us for a good 15 minutes before he decided to pull us over, that’s how we roll… Through stop signs apparently, because that was the official reason he pulled us over. He gets out and says “I was looking at your tires and I saw the tread didn’t come to a complete stop at that last stop sign.” Umm, k. First off this town doesn’t even really need stop signs. Secondly, he was riding our tail so bad that there is no way he could see the tread on the tires.

Then the friendly cop asked us about some harassment to some kids and said that we really scared them. Which is really awesome because I didn’t know that I had the capacity to scare people. That’s definitely going on my resume. The cop also questioned us about why we were asking them to buy us beer, he obviously didn’t get the funny either. This is about when I noticed that there was not one, but two cop cars behind us! All of a sudden I felt like we were supposed to have a dead hooker and a kilo of blow in the trunk.

After this nothing really exciting happened, the cop couldn’t do anything to us for talking to people. Plus he took about 20 minutes to actually hand write a warning for the stop sign roll through. A written warning? Really? What are we, 6? You going to write a letter to my mom to? This just goes to show, if you’re going to go start killing hookers or flashing your cock to junior high boys, don’t do it in small towns. The cops are so fucking bored and aren’t doing anything else all 5 of them can come, hunt you down and give you a written warning and a prompt finger wagging.

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