Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Celebrity blogging...

I read today on People.com that in addition to rubbing JGar’s feet and attending ObamaCON in Denver this week, Ben Affleck will be playing some charity poker to benefit disabled veterans. A noble cause most would agree, but really, were I a disabled veteran, I wouldn’t expect a whole lot out of this. See, when we were in Vegas back in June I caught up with Ben for a not-so-friendly game of seven card stud.



Let’s just say that by the time we were done playing, he was rubbing my feet and offering me his first born. Already having a hot baby of my own, I politely declined. I instead offered mercy for all of his money and a part yet to be determined in his upcoming homemade sex tape with Jen. Not a bad deal.

Until I took the money and lost it all getting my ass kicked on the links by TWood and some other old ass fuck.

Nick

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Thursday, August 21, 2008

Oh mama...

Actually, Oh Susanna - Pretty Face. And a lovely voice as well.



Nick

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Sunday, August 17, 2008

The sex diet...

Here's an interesting website that I have been playing around with since taking an online health assessment that essentially told me I was a fat pig. In not so many words. Even without signing up, you can browse the nutritional details of just about any food. For example, one of my favorites, the Whopper Jr. from Burger King (responsible for fat pigness) contains way too many fucking calories, way too much fucking fat and, of course, way too much fucking yummy goodness. Actually it contains 410 calories, which is about four times what I should be eating in a given meal.

On the flip side of getting sick seeing how fattening your favorite foods are, you can browse just about every activity you wish you were doing to see how many of those fucking calories you would be burning... if you weren't sitting here reading this blog of course. Which, btw, sitting and reading burns about 100 calories an hour. Or 1/4 of the Whopper Jr.

Now of course the fun part. Well, they don't tell you how many calories you're burning while drinking beer (my guess is it's a lot though), but, they do tell you how many calories you burn while engaging in sexual activity.

According to the wizard who calculates all this crap, passive sexual activity which they specify includes things like light effort kissing and hugging (because who the fuck does that?) burns... are you ready? 83 calories an hour. Which would confirm my theory that no one kisses and hugs for an extended amount of time. Why would you, when sitting and reading burns more calories?

Now we move on to, moderate sexual activity, which I'm not an expert on sexual activity by any means, but I guess would include things like bondage, burning each other with candle wax and swinging (either an actual swing, or another couple... your call). Moderate sexual activity, according to the website, burns 109 calories. Or half a can of coke.

Uh, really? Moderate sexual activity burns the same number of calories as sitting and reading? What the fuck kind of sex are these people having? If you're extending the same amount of energy having sex as you are sitting and reading, maybe you need to rethink your strategy. Like, try moving.

Well, luckily for us that don't play dead when we have sex, they have a category for vigorous sexual activity. Their words, not mine. I guess vigorous sexual activity would include, oh I don't know, farm animals maybe? Sex in a mall bathroom stall? Who knows what the actual definition of vigorous sexual activity may be, but I wouldn't bother with it. It only burns 125 calories an hour. Or half a snickers bar.

Apparently you are better off just going to church and praying that you were having sex, which also burns 125 calories an hour.

So I guess what all this means is that if you've ever heard the excuse "I'm too tired", it's bullshit. You're probably just not all that good with the farm animals. Luckily the lord is though.

Nick

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Friday, August 15, 2008

The lord bless Charlie Mopps!

I love beer. So when I seen that a beer blog I had frequented was going to be no longer, I was sad. But, alas, Lyssa Beyer has set up a new beer blog following her internship at a local newspaper. That's right, a beer blog on a local newspaper website. It's Wisconsin, what do you expect?

And, in honor of beer blogging, a favorite of mine:



Happy Friday!

Nick

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Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Big Dog

I knew they'd come pretty far with robots, but this is insane!



Tell me you didn't feel bad for the robot when that dude tried kicking it over...

Courtesy of Boston Dynamics.

Nick

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Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Mini Me

I would have some interesting posts about my birthday and vacation, if anything interesting happened. But it didn't. Except I sprained my foot.

So, in lieu of interesting topics, here are some pics of Mini Me, as promised.



Nick

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Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Wanted: sweet ass dishwasher...

Last night, hot wife and I mingled in fashion as A-listers at a Coors Light cocktail party, where I was able to catch a few minutes of the baseball game, and half my head was used in a commercial that cost more than we make in several months. I think we rocked the part, especially given that we don’t really have any friends that have Coors Light cocktail parties, watch the baseball game or shoot super expensive and elaborate commercials. We were hanging with people way out of our league. People who own businesses, sell expensive properties, and live in houses on the lake with nice flooring. People with dishwashers.

I think that with some exposure to more opportunities, hot wife and I would make excellent A-listers, despite being deficient in most categories normally associated with A-listers. We don’t have a dishwasher. The problem with breaking onto the A-list scene when you don’t have fancy things like a dishwasher is that the world is full of non-A-listers. We’re essentially B-listers in a sea of B-listers. So we’ll have to rely on other things besides good jobs and dishwashers.

If I had to list our unconvential A-list qualities, they would be... in no particular order:

1. We’re hot as hell. Well, at least hot wife is hot as hell, and that’s usually all that matters.
2. We’ve been known to get naked in public, but only when appropriate.
3. Who else can drink a dozen Jagerbombs and still stand up straight?
4. Looking to buy a shitty foreclosed house, or, eh, a shower door? Yeah, we can help with that...
5. We’re animal friendly.

It’s pretty obvious that we’re A-list quality. Anyone have a dishwasher for sale?

Nick

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Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Some bad news...

I always find it difficult to write when there isn’t shit for good news. And these days, there isn’t shit for good news. There’s plenty of shitty ass news though, such as...

The Milwaukee Brewers have been reduced to trying to shove each other across the plate:



Brett Favre won’t go away (or stay away):



And my birthday is this week:



I’ll actually be 29, that picture is old. Yeah, so Paint Shop wasn’t so good back then, cut me some slack.

The thing about being 29 is, it’s kind of like being 20, only in reverse. Instead of having something to look forward to for the next year, when you’re 29, the year can’t be fucking long enough. In fact, no year can be fucking long enough.

I’m not one of those people who jumps ahead in age and says, “I’m almost 30.” But, I’m almost 30. And don’t say 30 is the new 20, because that’s a bunch of bullshit that 20 year olds say to 30 year olds to make them not feel so shitty. No one that’s already 30 says that, because they know it’s not true. 30 is just when you realize that you’re not young anymore, but you’re not really old either. You don’t really know what the fuck you are. Besides overweight and poor. You’re too old to hang out in the bars with your friends all the time, but too young to sit on the back porch drinking Hamms. Do they even make that shit anymore?

The weird thing is, as I get older, I have more and more respect for old people. Because I know what it feels like to say to someone, “What do you mean you don’t know who Twisted fuckin’ Sister is?! What’s wrong with you?!” And then you realize you’re talking to someone who wasn’t even alive in the same decade that Twisted fuckin’ Sister was.

And no... Twisted fuckin’ Sister was not fuckin’ emo.

Nick

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