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Archive for February, 2009

News Thing – February 25, 2009

View Comments February 25, 2009 | JoshPerson

Here’s me taking another crack at this weird newsy bullshit. I don’t know why I seem angry about it. Maybe it’s because I’d rather be helping people and saving lives, but not many people have been sending in Ask Josh questions lately… And by “not many people” I mean no people at all. I also don’t live that exciting of a life to come up with a new tale of awkwardness every week. Someone should really donate me vacation packages. The awkward filled blog content I would get from actually leaving my apartment would be massive.

Anyways, this thing happened:

VASSALBORO, Maine – Cup size has more than one meaning at a new central Maine coffeehouse. Servers are topless at the Grand View Topless Coffee Shop, which opened its doors Monday on a busy road in Vassalboro. A sign outside says, “Over 18 only.” Another says, “No cameras, no touching, cash only.”

On Tuesday, two men sipped coffee at a booth while three topless waitresses and a bare-chested waiter stood nearby. Topless waitress Susie Wiley said men, women and couples have stopped by.

I just want to start of by saying that this article absolutely sickens me. Just the thought of anyone thinking that this is a good idea blows my mind. I do not want to live in this type of America. I’m talking, of course, of the horrendous joke in the first sentence of this article. Cup size has more than one meaning at the topless coffee shop?!?!? Get it? With the coffee cup sizes, and the boob sizes? OMFG! Brilliance! I’m surprised that they didn’t add “just don’t ask for cream in your coffee”, but that might be a bit too edgy for the media.

Actually, this whole article is filled with complete disappointment. I was on board until I read “no touching”. Then I thought I might be able to deal with that if I make sure to keep my hands on myself. Then in the next paragraph I got hit with another disappointment bomb. A “bare chested waiter”? No touching and a half naked dude walking around groping all the whore waitresses? You do want people to go come to your coffee shop, right? This scenario is actually why I never went to parties in high school. I pictured the hot girls in my class walking around topless with all the football players while I sat in a corner hating myself and expanding my jerk bank.

I bet the insurance policy for this place is huge! Piping hot beverages and nudity? Sounds like a possibly painful situation for someone. Imagine if one of the topless whores is in a bad mood one day and is bitchy to one of the scumbag male patrons. All he has to do is throw coffee on her tits and she would be disfigured for life. Or maybe some fat creep goes in there and instantly gets jealous of the bare chested waiter. Not to mention dudes with raging boners getting distracted by titties and knocking their hot coffee onto their man satchel. Not a pleasant thought. Now, I don’t know what the difference would be between burning stiff cock as opposed to limp, but I would imagine stiff cock would hurt more. When it’s limp it’s harder to hit, plus it has more of an elephant skin quality. Or maybe the stiff cock would be more like a shield and it would just kind of deflect it to the inner thigh and ball areas. I really have no idea. Why aren’t scientists on this great mystery? What are those “geniuses” getting paid for?

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Awkward Convenience

View Comments February 19, 2009 | JoshPerson

I’m starting to realize that I am the king of awkwardness. Aside from getting into awkward situations constantly and not knowing how to react, I’m also able to sense awkwardness upon immediately entering a room even if no words have been spoken in my presence. I had this realization about sensing awkward situations just yesterday, actually. I was going to one of my favorite places in the whole wide world, a convenience store. I’m obsessed with these places which is obvious with a quick run through some of my past blog posts. Just type in “convenience” into the search box and see for yourself.

Immediately upon entering the store I could feel the awkward tension without being immediately aware of the situation. I honed in on the cashier and a guy paying for his things. I’m really disappointed in myself for not noticing what the guy was buying because I’m pretty sure that whatever it was I could make fun of him for it. Even if it was exactly what I was going to buy I could somehow spin it  to make me seem better than him. Anyways, the cashier was a woman who was probably in her mid-40′s. I’m not one to bang old Midwestern women, but I could see how some poor sap could find her attractive. Though, lately I have had an urge to bang an ugly chick. It’s not like I can’t get young, attractive women, it’s just that banging an ugly chick seems wrong and that wrongness kind of does something thrilling to the good ol’ swivel cock (Call Back!).

I tried to loiter around the front of the store for the while so I could take in the complete awkwardness of the situation. It’s very rare for me to witness awkwardness without being directly involved, so I tried to soak it in as best as I could. Besides, I have a fucking blog to maintain and I need all the content possibilities I can get (Ask Josh, you fucks). The first thing I heard was the guy saying “Did I do something wrong?”. Right there I knew this was going to be awkwardness gold and quite possibly the best conversation in convenience store history, which would really only have to beat out “Yeah, and I’ll take a pack of Swisher Sweets and a couple scratch tickets”. I had just missed the beginning, but it turns out this guy was hitting on the female cashier. I really wish I would have been able to hear his opening line. If I ever have the chance to use a time machine, or stumble into a genie with three wishes situation it’ll be the first thing I do.

Well, this mustachioed man couldn’t just take his rejection and leave with his head down followed by a call to his shrink, like I would have done. He had to hang out at the counter and keep asking follow-ups. I can kind of understand that, because you feel like you dig a fucking hole when you get rejected so you try and talk your way out of it, usually resulting in extreme awkwardness, a bloody female face and a night in jail. This is what the rest of the conversation went like:

Mustache Face: What did I do wrong?

Cashier: You didn’t do anything wrong.

Mustache Face: I can tell I did something wrong because you rejected me.

Cashier: Believe me, you didn’t do anything wrong.

Mustache Face: I can tell I did something wrong because your face is red.

Cashier: My face isn’t red.

Mustache Face: I just wanted to get together for dinner some time, it’s not that big of a deal.

Cashier: I have a boyfriend.

Mustache Face: I think you’re lying.

Cashier: I’m not lying. I have a boyfriend and he’s in Texas right now.

Yeah, I was basically cringing more and more with every word this guy spoke. It was really an amazing conversation. Also, what is the fucking point of telling an obviously creepy guy, who is hitting on you, that your boyfriend is many states away? I came up with two conclusions.

1. She subscribes to the whole “if your boyfriend is out of state it isn’t considered cheating” thing and that was this guy’s opening to start banging her over the cash register, tub of rancid, germ filled beef jerky and display of 5 hour energy.

2. She completely understood the guy’s creepiness and obsessive factors and is just a really big fan of getting raped.

Either way, it was about the most fantastically awkward situation I’ve experienced since the time I told a waitress to “go get me some more water like a good woman should” in a sarcastic tone. She ended up calling me an asshole so I didn’t give her a tip, but I did give her the nickname “Owen Wilson nose face”. I don’t really know what that has to do with anything, other than showcasing my amazing people skills.

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A Dark Day With ALF

View Comments February 17, 2009 | JoshPerson

As I get older I’m starting to look back on some of my fond/frightening memories from when I was a child, with a little bit of cynicism. I’ve found that some of these memories couldn’t have really happened at all and must have been a dream… Or were they? It’s possible that I’ve been involved in some paranormal situations, but it’s also possible that I was just an insanely retarded kid with an overactive imagination. Which one is more likely? I’d have to go with the former, because my mind don’t play no tricks, baby. Adding to the legitimacy that these two stories did happen in real life, comes the fact that I really have no idea in what order they happened or how old I was. With that being said, they seemed so fucking real.

The first story that I remember as being absolutely true, happened when I was in about 1st grade (give or take 5 grades). I was in the classroom during the day, just like normal, but on this particular day the sun didn’t come out. It was as black as night all fucking day. I remember we might have had a small thunderstorm, but you’d think if it was pitch black all day long we might have had a tornado type situation and we’d be hiding in a small hallway, away from all windows. It’s funny, when all us kids would go to the windowless hallway during a tornado warning only one of us kids would take it seriously. It just so happened to be the pussy nerd that you would end up making fun of all the way through high school. Nobody else gave a shit that we were minutes away from being tornado stricken.

The thing that confuses me about this memory is the fact that I asked my parents about it a couple years later and neither of them remembered it. Not only did they not think it happened, but they also looked at me with extreme disappointment like they just found out that their kid suffers from retardism. Sure, it could have been a dream, but what a lame fucking dream. I was only a child. I was supposed to be dreaming about space ships, dinosaurs and being half ninja, half Indian. Better yet, I should have been a “ninjian” fighting dinosaurs with karate and space ships. Also, if anyone makes a sweet TV show out of that idea I demand the millions of dollars that it would undoubtedly make.

Another memory that I have is a little bit creepier and off the deep end. I was staying at my grandparents’ house, where I would often sleep in the basement. It was a nice, finished basement, so don’t look at me like I was an insane future baby butcher and they had to keep me in a dungeon. I remember waking up in the middle of the night and hearing a strange noise coming from the laundry room. As I walked into the laundry room I could tell the noise was coming from the dryer. When I opened the dryer I saw my good buddy, and favorite TV character at the time, ALF. He was just chillin in the dryer by himself. I remember we talked a little bit and I completely freaked the fuck out. I think it ended with me shutting the dryer door and running back to my bed.

It looked sort of like this, except I didn’t turn the dryer on because I wasn’t an asshole yet:

Alright, so this was most likely a dream. In fact, there is absolutely no chance that this really happened, unless the show ALF was really a documentary. I actually just watched a few episodes of ALF recently on Hulu and forgot how creepy that little fucker really is. You’d think it’s a puppet of some kind, but then you see it run around and it looks like a midget in a costume, but the head of the costume is really too small for a normal midget head. It’s mind bending and creeps me the fuck out all at once. It’s sort of like when girls first see my penis. It just seems out of place at first, but then they realize that’s just because of how huge it is… Plus it can bend in all directions in the middle whilst erect. Actually, those two situations are nothing alike, I just wanted to brag about my amazing, swiveling cock…

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