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Archive for September, 2009

The Pulled Over Nice Guy

View Comments September 24, 2009 | JoshPerson

It may be hard to believe, but through the years of writing this blog and talking with people on Twitter, I’ve gained a reputation as a little bit of an asshole. I find this reputation completely undeserving and, quite frankly, ridiculous. Sure, you may be able to point to my ask Josh blogs and my dream interpretations as asshole evidence, but those are really just me being assertive in bettering people’s lives. Something happened recently, that can finally lay these asshole claims to rest and prove once and for all that I’m a truly nice guy.

I recently ordered a car online, which sounds frightening, I know, but I’ll talk more about that in a later post (turns out it’s really legit and I got a great deal. Contact me if you want the hook ups). Monday night I got my car delivered down town and as soon as I got in it I realized I had absolutely no gas in the tank. It was about 11pm and about 5 hours after my usual 80 year old man bedtime, so I planned to fill it up with gas real quick and head home. When I pulled out of the gas stations things got a bit interesting.

rabbit

My new car. Sure, it’s not exactly “manly”, but my general manliness more than makes up for it. Had I gotten a large truck or a “bitchin” sports car it’d be manliness overload and the universe would implode. You’re welcome.

I drove about half a block before a police man pulled me over. So here was the situation, I was in a car from Texas with no plates, no proof of registration or insurance at 11:30 at night and the cop who pulled me over was a narcotics officer. Not a great situation for me to be in.

The cop started asking me a million questions about where I got the car, if it was mine, why I picked it up so late and if I had any drugs or guns on me. I, of course, was completely courteous, mainly because it was late and I was tired and also because he was probably the nicest cop I’ve ever come across. So the cop took my driver’s license and shipping receipt back to his car and did whatever they do, which is probably formulate a scenario which would optimize taser usage.

When he came back he asked me if he could search my car. I could have said no, but debating my rights with a police officer during my bed time is not one of my favorite hobbies. I just wanted it to be over so I said “Sure, go right ahead”. When I got out of the car he patted me down, which was an experience, to say the least. Searching the car is one thing, but searching testicle alley is something completely different. I should also note that I was in tears the entire time.

He ended up bringing his drug dog out and taking it around my car and then he searched it manually. Now, I just got this goddamn car and it was completely empty, but all of a sudden I was panic stricken thinking maybe someone accidentally dropped a dirty bag of shake under the seat, or something, and I’d go to jail.

After he was done frisking my new vehicular he said “Man, I was really hoping to find mounds of cocaine in your trunk or something, but it turns out you’re just a really nice guy who got a new car. Thanks for all your cooperation and have a good night”. That was it, I got to return to my bed to continue on my string of dreams about banging disgusting chicks that have been way too vivid for them not to come true eventually.

So you see, a goddamn police office said I was a nice guy! These guys are supposed to have the power to look into people’s souls and see if they’re criminal or insane and he found no traces of asshole anywhere on me, or in my car. It’s weird, because they usually turn really nice people into assholes just so they can slam their head into a curb. In all honesty, I think the only time you can get me in a non-asshole-ish mood is when you’re keeping me from sleep. I’ll probably just do whatever you tell me to do just so you’ll stop bothering me with your retardation and let me pass out and forget about how much I hate people for 8 hours.

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The Twitter Dilemma

View Comments September 16, 2009 | JoshPerson

I’ve been a member of this pretty popular site called Twitter for quite a while now. I don’t exactly remember the day I joined, but it was definitely before it blew up and became super popular among idiots. With the continuous infusion of people I deem face kick worthy, it brings up a huge dilemma and an inner struggle that I fear will never end. Is this dilemma between me and the boring messes? Not quite. These days I seem to be more angry at the Twitter bashers than the Twitter borers.

You see, there was once a time when I would gladly jump on board with these bashers, and probably end up being their king. That time, of course, was August of last year, when I first called out all the people who post completely inane “I just ate a sandwich” talk. At that point, it was fresh and cool to bash these goddamn borings. Now, over a year later, everyone is jumping on the “fuck Twitter” bandwagon and it’s quite upsetting to me.

I get it, you’re allowed to hate Twitter because in your mind it’s just a bunch of non-creative douche baggers. The only problem with calling out a bunch of non-creative people is that you’re not even creative enough to sign up and post creative, humorous and interesting stuff, which makes you a worse than the “picking up the kids from school” bunch. Well, that and because they all have the same jokes, which usually includes updates being called “twats”.

twatter

Another huge argument from the haters is that they simply don’t care about the boring stuff people do, like following a bunch of boring people is mandatory. I also guarantee that most people who think this way have a Facebook account, which pretty much has the exact same goddamn purpose, plus ultra annoying things like Mafia Wars and countless pictures of shirtless dudes holding red plastic cups.

I guess I’m just angry because instead of actually looking into it and seeing that it can be extremely useful and entertaining, they just jump on the “It’s popular, therefore I’m against it” bandwagon. If you want to follow self-important, annoying people then that’s what you’ll get. It’s essentially anything you want it to be.

The thing that’s insane to me is that people get completely riled up while talking about how stupid Twitter is. These are probably the same people who signed up, tried to think of something funny to say, then had their brain explode into angry glob of ignorance.

With that being said, there are some legitimate reasons to hate Twitter, namely people who get way too into it. You can usually tell these people because they follow thousands more people than follow them back, and they use words like “tweeple”. The first time I saw someone use the term “tweeple” I threw my laptop into my garbage disposal and jumped off my balcony. Sure, it was an odd reaction, but I stand by it. Plus, I soon realized that these people are great to become friends with because they give you a never ending stream of nonsense to continually ridicule… Which is what Twitter is really all about, for me.

Sure, I could be extremely wrong here and I could be a complete douche for being a member, but that’s why I keep this blog going, just so I have the “well, I just use Twitter to pimp my blog posts” excuse.

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Not a Real Dream Interpretation

View Comments September 8, 2009 | JoshPerson

I’ll be honest, lately I’ve been kind of sick of interpreting dreams. I know, I help millions of people with my dream intelligence and future telling sorcery, but I’m just starting to get burned out. With that being said, I just got a couple of dreams sent in that I don’t really have to interpret, because they hurt my brain powers too much to even understand. Hopefully these will un-burn me out of doing dream interpretations so I can get back to making the world a better place the only way I know how.

Disclaimer: If you have idiot overload seizures or sustain brain damage from attempting to read this dream, I am not responsible in any way.

IT WAS PROM SEASON AND I WAS IN HIGHSCHOOL THE PROM WAS AT A CONCERT AT NIGHT MY DRESS HAD GOTTEN RUINED SO MY DATE GOT ME A DRESS OUT OF NO WHERE WHEN I GOT OUT OF THE BATHROOM ALL OF MY GROUP OF FREINDS WHERE GONE.SO I WENT BACK TO THE TOUR BUS WE ARRIVED IN BEFORE I STEPED ON IT I SAW NURSE DRESSED IN SHORT BLACK DRESSES WITH AXES IN THERE HANDS,ONE OF MY FREINDS GOT HIT WITH THE AXE AND A GHOULISH CREATURE CAME OUT OF THE GROUND AND I THINK HE WAS THEE MASTER. MY FREIND TRIED TO STEP ON THE BUS BUT SHE FELL ASLEEP ON THE BOTTOM STEP I KNEW I COULDNT PULL HER UP IN TIME SO I KICKED HER OFF THE STEPS AND CLOSED THE DOOR WHILE THE GHOUL TRIED TO RAM IT OPEN. I GOT IT CLOSED AND HE WHIPED SOME FROST OFF THE WINDSHEILD AND I SAW HIM WITH SOMETHING BIG,HE WAS GOING TO BREAK THE GLASS BUT I WOKE UP RIGHT BEFORE HE DID… <3

The good thing about this cluster fuck “dream” is that I probably don’t really need to make fun of it, because if you read it you should see the humor automatically… That’s if you can actually read the goddamn thing. When I first got this dream I thought it was written with Chinese characters, then I shook my head violently to make sure my eyes were aligned correctly and when I looked at it again I thought it was a transcript of a Hitler speech. It wasn’t until the third time I looked at this dream that I realized that an actual human wrote this in a serious frame of mind, and then depression sank in.

After spending 74 hours trying to decode this disaster I did notice some shocking things about it. The first thing that boggled my mind is how this person can spell “ghoulish creature” perfectly, but misspell “friend” every goddamn time. That in itself made my eyes roll back in my head so ferociously that I did a back-flip. Other than that, we have the usual forms of complete idiocy (caps lock, terrible punctuation, misspellings, wrong “there/their/they’re” usage, etc).

I’m not exactly the best writer in the world and I’ve had my fair share of horrid spelling and grammar mistakes, but I’m at least able to make sense most of the time. So, I’m not trying to say that I’m better than this person because they appear to be terrible at everything, but I’m definitely better than this person in every way possible. I could read a book about how everything George W Bush did was correct because he was guided by Jesus, and be less mentally annoyed than I was when I read this dream.

As I mentioned before, I recently got a couple dreams sent in that I don’t really have to interpret. This was the first one. What about the second one? It was sent in by the same goddamn person. So I’ll probably post that one up soon and delve a little deeper into my internal hatred container. I also just want to note that the person who sent this in is a black woman, so if I get shot down outside of a Wal-Mart or finger-wagged to death, you all know where to start the suspect search.

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