Pretty ambigous title I know. It’s been along time since I put some keys to the edit box here on my site. Not alot I’ve had to write about until now. This is a question I have asked myself internally on more than one occasion. When you as a man like I am hang out with another man, a friend of yours. What is considered the acceptable length of time spent with this friend for it not to be considering bailing out?

Say just the other day I was at a friend of mine’s house, who I want name for obvious reasons. Well anyway I called him earlier in the day and asked him what he had goin on. He said the usual answer of, “Shit, just hangin out at the house with the old lady, wanna come over?”. So I say “sure”, like I always do when I call. I mean thats the only reason I ever call him. We don’t have phone conversations.

So I get over to his house a little later on and nothing was goin on really. Played a little Guitar Hero 3 but other than that it was a borefest. So after about 30 minuts of being at this dudes house I can’t take it. So I decide I have got to find a reason to get out of here. So here I am asking myself, “Why do I need a reason?”. It’s not like he’s my wife or my mother or something. I did come over and hang out. Is there some kind of time quota that must be met within the man code of friendship ethics that states how long a “get together” must last before you can make a honorable exit?

Hell, noone reads this shit anyway so it’s not like I’m ever gonna figure this one out. So honestly fuck you all, lol. By the way I ended up staying for like 3 hours since I couldn’t think of a valid excuse.

Or so I wish. Today I go to get in the shower to do my daily wash my ass routine when I notice something is wrong. My bar of Ivory soap is running dangerously thin. I figure I can make this work, I’ll just be gentle with it. Yea well as I’m sure you have figured out by the fact that I am writing this that didn’t work. I went to apply the bar of soap to my high glass dollar store wash cloth and guess what happens? That’s right my friends, the bar of soap crumbles into about 45 different tiny pieces. So here I am with a soap puzzle and a dirty ass. What do I do now?

I quickly survey the shower stall and browse through the 64 different bottles of what the hell ever. Female roomate, what can you do. Anyway I look down and see a green bar of soap. I’m thinking to myself, Irish Spring, not my favorite but its better than this coconut girly body wash crap I’m surrounded with. So I apply the “Irish Spring” to the wash cloth and do society my duty and clean myself with it. After a good lather session I begin to rinse myself off and notice something strange, something that pushes me to the point of 1st degree murder. I’m not feeling clean. I keep rinsing and I still don’t have the squeaky clean feeling I prefer to have, hence why I avoid all the body wash bullshit.

So here I am trying to rinse for the next 10 minutes to get the greasy feeling off of me. The whole time I’m thinking that I know I don’t like Irish Spring, but I know it’s not THAT bad. So I get out and do some investigative reporting in the bathroom cabinets to see what kind of Irish Spring this exactly was. I open the top cabinet and something catches my eye, hits my retna like staring into a solar eclispe directly. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? This isn’t Irish Spring… it… says… “Dove Cool Moisture Beauty Bar“! It all makes sense now. I have been forced to use WOMAN soap under the guise of being a semi not so ok man soap. Even worse it says “Cucumber And Green Tea Scent”. CUCUMBER AND FUCKING TEA! Great now for the rest of the damn day I’m gonna smell like a Starbucks salad bar!

Since the feeling I get with this soap after “washing” or should I say frying I have decided to help Dove redesign the box for this “soap” to better state what it really makes me feel like. As of this moment I am never going to ever use an unidentified soap. If my supply of real soap Ivory is running low or depleted I’m just not gonna shower. I don’t care if I just finished working a double shift down at the OK Corral shoveling horse shit. I’d rather smell like ass than ever get out of the shower feeling like I just took a swim in McDonald’s friers.

Why is it that people these days are over sensitive about everything others say and do? No one seems to have any form of a sense of humor anymore. I watch on TV and see people non stop crying about how they are offended over the smallest things. Sarcasm is one of the greatest forms of humor in my opinion. If you can’t take jabs at yourself and others what are you left with? That’s right rainbows, kittens and unicorns. Let me tell you something, that is not how I want to live my life.

Sure being happy and mutually masterbating each others egos 24/7 sounds like a good life. I’m here to tell you it’s not. If we all sat around everyday and sung koombya while giving each other positive ego boosting comments everyday the world would turn to trash. People would end up with giant size egos, not like they don’t already, but just imagine. If every single person in this world thought they did no wrong we would be in trouble my friends. Big fucking trouble.

So as I was saying… Sarcasm. I am one of the most sarcastic people on the face of the planet. I can sit there with a straight face and tell you that you are a burger slamming, inbred hambeast without even cracking a grin. Do I mean it when I say that? No of course I don’t. Maybe it’s just because of where and when I grew up. Back when I was a kid we used to sit around and call each other fags, crack momma jokes, and rag on each other from 7am at the bus stop till 8-9pm when it was time to go home. 95% of the things we said to each other we didn’t mean. It was just funny to us who could come up with the most off the wall bullshit insults about each other. Wore wrangler jeans to school one day? Oh shit you were in for a long day.

I’m not saying I want things to goto 4chan levels of sadistic, anime pedo, hentai, tentacle rape faggotry levels of humor. Those furry bastards can choke on their own penis for all I care. Anyway the morale of this rant to the world is, lighten the fuck up. If someone says fuck you, you suck and they are your friend, they don’t mean it. Think of it as a term of endearment. We the dry humor people of the world love our friends and families as much as the rainbow bright loving tree hugging hippies do. We just have another way of showing it. If we are confortable enough with you to tell you how terrible you are at sports, or games, or whatever that means we like you. If we didn’t we wouldn’t say anything to you. So for you my 1 1/2 readers I want to give you a giant fuck you die in a fire cause I love you. Peace.