Phone it in Friday
Sorry for the radio silence folks. Been out of pocket this week on account of starting a new job, but I will never let an honest’s days work keep me from slinging stupidity. That’s the Fatty Liver guarantee.
Who needs a 401K anyways when you have 401 readers who half-skim your nonsensical ramblings? Take that as collateral banks.
Haven’t done a Phone it In Friday in quite a while, let’s go:
What I’m pondering today
Overhead a woman say that “girls like to be chased by guys”. And I found that comment to be extremely fat-phobic. If I want love, I have to run the girl down? You think she’ll want me when I come in drenched in 5 lbs of sweat with crippling shin splints? And how’s that going to look? 250+ lbs man sprinting after a young woman — cops will shoot me where I stand. Don’t girls carry around pepper spray to avoid that exact scenario? I’ll never understand the female race man, smh.
While we’re on the subject, I don’t like how sweatshirts are modeled as if the wearer has a jacked physique. Case in point:
…Why does this invisible man have so much muscle definition?! Do they think they’re designing these for the players? This fucking dude has prominent traps. There’s not a Cleveland Browns fan on this earth who has that body type. Browns fans are all morbidly obese alcoholics who throw up on their gunts while wearing a faded Tim Couch jersey that looks like it’s been under a mattress for the last 20 years. Design a shirt for him you fat shaming SOBs.
You know the story in Good Will Hunting where Robin Williams character meets his future wife at a bar before a Sox World Series game and slides his ticket across the table because “he had to go see about a girl.” There is no chance in hell I would EVER give up that ticket. Bro, you’re going to miss one of the best games in baseball history to try and mack on some bar floozie? How about give her your home number and tell her to call you instead of pissing away $600 to try and cop a feel in The Landsdowne.
Said it before, but you should go to jail if you try to go to your seat in the middle of a big play at a sporting event. Not kicked out. Jail.
How do juries just disregard testimony when instructed? Like they heard it. We gonna pretend they didn’t hear it?
Sad life snippets (lot of these so I scratched a section)
I don’t have tan lines so much as my skin kind of gradually fades in color as you go further up my thigh. Leg looks like a Sherwin Williams paint swatch.
The Stairmaster at my gym has a little vent on the top of it that just blasts you with cool air when you crank up the speed and whoever invented that should be a billionaire.
Went on a double date at a bar that’s more for the early 20s crowd because the ladies wanted to dance and I didn’t want to travel more than a quarter mile from my home. I’m in there, flawlessly doing the Souja Boy, and people watching the youngins. And three things dawn on me:
1. I’m old as fuck. Pretty sure I was 12 years older than the next oldest guy in there and I’m 27.
2. Did the younger generation just not get fed the same as us? These kids were TINY. And I don’t just mean skinny; I mean I was like a foot taller than every other guy in there. They’re all presumably 21+ so it’s not like they have more growing to do. Parents must not have given them that good steroid food we were raised on.
3. Call me an old man yelling at clouds but boys haircuts are stupid as fuck now. Everyone either looks like they’re an understudy on Stranger Things or Jack Harlow if his hair was made of Brillo.
Some skinny kid in a Bob Dylan shirt dropped a “buddy” on me and he’s lucky he’s still breathing.
Got rejected from a bar for wearing shorts the other day. Probably the 7th time it’s happened to me in my life. Just let me be comfortable assholes — it’s like 80 degrees in this bitch.
