SINS: Sorry I'm Not Sorry

Patriots. Pinheads. July has come, and it is now near gone....

Thu, 29 Jul 2010 00:03:25 -0400

Patriots. Pinheads. July has come, and it is now near gone. Despite our evolutionary advantage of thumbs, slipping from our grasp is arguably the most patriotic month of the year, and I made sure of it this year that did not go unnoticed.

I feel as though I lived the month of July as if I had just signed the Declaration of Independence. Of course, like any dapper and powerful gentleman of the 18th century, I wore a tuxedo. Upon signing the declaration I placed my manacle on my strong eye, and with a hand in my billfold I whisked into the mid-summer’s night air, with a deep breath and a feeling of renewed refreshment I tousled my cane counter-clockwise in the air not once, not twice, but thrice and escaped into a month of lawless abandon along the eastern shore filled with celebration and dance floor plank spanking, cocktails and ponytails amid a wonderful garden of spontaneous turbulence. With an army of gentleman and scholars flanking my sides, we would climb atop the tabletops of Dewey Beach, leading countless renditions of the Star Spangled Banner. As an ice breaker I would invite strangers in an announcement in the pledge of allegiance. In no different effort than any other American Patriot we would sport self adhesive facial hair on our faces, only to sweat them off in the heat of battle during a spin the bottle dance circle dance off. Hold your robot, I’m bringing the heat sausage. Offering a hand of dance to fair maidens and sirens ranging from ages of 4 to 84, not a foot was left still, auto-play pianos were tuned and Ray Charles was brought back to life, and Stevie Wonder could finally see what we have all been reveling in all these years. Luxury Resort pools were crashed, Yachts were boarded, shores were stormed, and we live to fight another day, another year, only in the hopes to raise the Flag of Freedom with an accompanying fist in the air, to sing about the home of the brave.

I am getting pretty excited about my date with NASA. Well, the...

Wed, 14 Jul 2010 11:27:37 -0400

I am getting pretty excited about my date with NASA. Well, the girl that works at NASA. I have a new interest, and that interest may be of interest to you. Here it is, ready? Pre-Date Ultimatums. It sets the tone. Its an anchor in the water saying, hey here is where I begin, lets jump in.

Pre-Date Ultimatum for NASA:::Wear an Astronaut suit to dinner, or the date is cancelled a REAL Astronaut Suit…and by cancelled, I mean we will go Dutch when the bill comes. Then its not a date, its just two people, sharing the same table, living different lives.

I have also given myself a Pre-Date Ultimatum, for it is only fair. My predate ultimatum is to look nice. Nice shoes, jeans, button down, and Tiger face paint—-kind of like the picture above, but with more whiskers to indicate not only aggressive prowess but also timeless wisdom. Additionally, to indicate interest in her interests like your interest in my interests, I will place a solitary, yet temporary, tattoo on my left cheek. This tattoo will be of a space shuttle. At the start of the date, the shuttle will be pointed skyward filled with hopes and dreams of possibility and worlds to be discovered. If the date goes poorly, the shuttle will slowly shift (on its own) downward towards the ground, and may be accompanied by a buzzing noise commonly heard on Family Feud or Wheel of Fortune.

For the date, I think we will go to dinner and a comedy club to see an improv show. I will not be performing, so I can only imagine this is going to be a lot like being a production assistant on set for the filming of a porn. Just with a lot more clothes. Equal amount of moaning.

Friends, Fans, Readers and Sworn Enemies, I write you this...

Mon, 12 Jul 2010 14:13:00 -0400

Friends, Fans, Readers and Sworn Enemies,

I write you this afternoon with an exciting update. Like Obama’s presidency, and Tiger Woods being a role model, this is something that only happens once. This instance is not something I expect to happen again, ever. I have a date on Thursday with a girl who has a brain. She does not do hair, she does not live at home, she is not in real estate, she is not an Orlando “model”. She is a mechanical engineer at The National Aeronautics and Space Administration, better known to idiots and mortals as NASA. Whenever a space shuttle goes into orbit, she is responsible for controlling the levels of helium (wweeeeeee) and nitrogen that are in the shuttle. If those levels are wrong, apparently people die. Except for Justin Bieber, who is, as we all know—immortal.

I am spending the rest of my week brushing up on the conversational talking points of Time Travel. I texted her this morning with “Are you going to space today? Ya, me either.” I have no interest in space. I have interest in traveling in time and riding on the horse with Paul Revere. 1 if by crown. 2 if by ginger. You wouldn’t know about Paul, those of you who are Arizona Immigrants…he is an American patriot, hero, and active horseman.

Other than time continuum, the laws of relativity and flux capacitors, I am wondering if you guys or any of your friends would like to submit conversational talking points during our date of pizza and air hockey at Chuck E. Cheese (what is the middle name of Chuck bee—tee—dub, that would be interesting to start the date with). The thesis of the date: Is Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure a practical possibility?

Please submit all requests by Thursday at 12PM to NopeNotApologizing at Gmail Dot Com. Feel free to forward this request. Thank you.

For further reading material on Time Travel, please visit www.abovetopsecret.com

ESPN and NBA Sources have told tell me that Lebrons Show to...

Thu, 08 Jul 2010 08:15:01 -0400

ESPN and NBA Sources have told tell me that Lebrons Show to nite will be from inside a private jet with Lebron and his homies. There will be a call in hotline where viewers can vote for their favorite new team. But Lebron doesnt care about your vote. He’s Lebron!! Lil Wayne is set to perform inside the Jet, then sip syrup and mack on hoes. Afterwards, Top Chef will have a quick fire challenge. You know Bron Bron gots to eat!!! Then the plane will land in the Bahamas where LeBron will be greeted by Tupac Shakur and Barry Sanders and announce, Peace out bitches. I retire!

There are certain points in life that really make you wonder if...

Mon, 21 Jun 2010 09:14:00 -0400

There are certain points in life that really make you wonder if the path you are on, is really the best path to take. For some, these thoughts come with the birth of their first child, a career change, or some sort of random epiphany from the heavens above.

For me, this realization came while hanging out with friends. Each and every one of my friends was laughing hysterically at what was on TV, and some even making lewd and obscene gestures with their hands. On the other hand I was sitting there, trying to concentrate on the television screen so that I could memorize the 1-800 number without having to write it down in front of the howling hyenas I call friends. Its true. You are officially the ultimate lazy/skinny hybrid when you think to yourself “Man, the “Shake Weight looks like a great option for me!!!! Whats the number again?!?!” This level of genuine lackadaisical excitement is only to be crushed by the hoots and hollers of friends sitting next to you who, with tears of comedy streaming down there faces yell, “what fag would order that…what an asshole”. There I sat, looking down at my gellin Dr. Scholls sneakers, whimpering “i wanted to order it”

The Shake Weight is perfectly practical. It allows the user to avoid monthly gym payments, driving to the gym, parking at the gym, seeing fat ladies on the cardiovascular machines at the gym…i mean really sweetheart? that stair master isnt doing you any good…going into the locker room at the gym, seeing penis in the locker room, seeing dude ass in the locker room, going to the weight room, having people laugh at you doing bench press sets with bar-only, take 40 water breaks in 25 minutes at the gym, playing pick up basketball against teenagers and getting shut out at the gym, crying at the gym, running out of the gym, running around the parking lot looking for your car at the gym, driving home from the gym, getting a speeding ticket on your way home from the gym, taking your anger out on your girlfriend when you get home from the gym and breaking up with your girlfriend….all because of the gym.

So what you are telling me, is for only $19.95, plus shipping and handling, which also allows me to get a free DVD that has $15 in value, I can have sculpted arms, a few more dollars in my pocket, and maybe have a steady girlfriend? I think my friends will just have to accept my shake weight.

Orlando! Tigers and Skulls and Flowers OH MY! Rawr.

Wed, 16 Jun 2010 17:01:51 -0400

Orlando! Tigers and Skulls and Flowers OH MY! Rawr.

This Kid Is My Hero

Tue, 11 May 2010 16:41:41 -0400

This Kid Is My Hero

I’ll be honest. I dodged a bullet last night. During my...

Wed, 28 Apr 2010 08:40:00 -0400

I’ll be honest. I dodged a bullet last night. During my travels this week, a mutual friend set me up with what I can only assume is a lady of the night, to show me around downtown Athens, Georgia. I was told she answered to Jamison—as in the porn star Jenna, and the stiff liquor in the green bottle. Traditionally, women who share names with either a porn-star or a stiff bottle of liquor traditionally is either a stripper want to be porn-star, or a drunk Tranny. Either way, I was in serious jeopardy of losing an eye. To be honest, I do not have many redeeming qualities, so the loss of a baby blue really was not an option. Although, my eyes are green. But I think you get the point. Phone turned off, woke up in the morning to watch Saved By The Bell reruns with both eyes. What A Blessing.

Photo

Sun, 25 Apr 2010 10:25:42 -0400

Photo

Sun, 25 Apr 2010 10:14:00 -0400

Photo

Fri, 23 Apr 2010 15:53:09 -0400

Tim Tebow—The most talked about White Bronco since the OJ...

Fri, 23 Apr 2010 10:03:12 -0400

Tim Tebow—The most talked about White Bronco since the OJ Simpson Trial.

Post-Traumatic Segway-Stroller Syndrome.

Thu, 22 Apr 2010 17:38:07 -0400

Post-Traumatic Segway-Stroller Syndrome.

We live in a pretty unbelievable world. We have clocks that...

Sun, 18 Apr 2010 14:47:55 -0400

We live in a pretty unbelievable world. We have clocks that wake us up, let us go back to sleep, and wake us up again in 9 minutes…there are driving ranges that tee the ball up for you. We have sent a man to the moon, there are even internet sites that play the music IT KNOWS you will like. With all of these achievements and countless others it is god damn incredible that we still have some of the advertising that we do. I would like to propose the greatest idea since Barack Obama becoming President…wait…that was a terrible idea. Scratch that. The greatest idea since Facebook created “Its Complicated” and “An Open Relationship With”!!!! We need a TV Ad for Your problems. Not mine…yours.

I am sick of your herpes commercial, by the way your next outbreak might not be for another 6 months. I am sick of your hemorrhoids commercial. I still struggle with the notion of women doing #2. As in “Honey I took out the dog, she number 1’d but didn’t number 2”. Obviously I am NOT talking about walking your wife or girlfriend, I am talking about her pooping. I am not sure they do it. What makes you think I want to hear about the growing bump inside you that makes it difficult to sit down?

Yeast Infections? Nope, don’t want to hear about it unless you are talking about a bakery—one that doesn’t produce BABIES. I am sick of hearing how much your tampon absorbs. Or do you use a pad? Well, you are in luck, because it can absorb A PITCHER OF LEMONADE. While we are at it, lets throw in Viagra and Extenzz commercials too. Don’t want to hear about your soft, and/or small package, Uncle Randy. Really Jessica Simpson? Did you have to do the Pro-Activ commercial. Your music sucks, you clearly ruled out being an intellectual gem when you couldn’t tell if it was chicken or tuna…but now? You are turning in your one redeeming quality—your skin, for an endorsement and showing me your oil ridden face while I eat dinner on the couch? Sorry it didn’t work out with John Mayer, really not that surprised. While we are on the subject, lets talk about the Adopt A Dog commercial with the Sarah McLaughlin tune. Really? Really, Sarah? Not on my TV screen. I shield my pups eyes when that comes up, and if I can’t hit mute—I ear-muff it as well.

There should be a television station that houses all of these disgusting advertisements. That way you can find a solution, and I can continue my regular scheduled programming at peace.

There is an unspoken truth that eHarmony and Match dot com leave...

Fri, 16 Apr 2010 09:12:00 -0400

There is an unspoken truth that eHarmony and Match dot com leave out of their adorable television commercials. Women go on the first date for the free food, and the free booze. This is a fact. Do not fight it, the universe will win. Countless times women over history have said “I sure am tired, I am not too interested in going out with him, but hey a free meal is a free meal, so I’ll put up with it.”

A new book needs to be penned called “She’s Just Not That Into You” and this is chapter one. First dates are just terrible. Do you pick her up? Do you meet her at the restaurant? Well if you pick her up what music should you be playing because you want to listen to AC/DC but does she want to listen to John Mayer, but really she likes country but you would never guess that because you hate country and assume that any girl you are interested in by default hates country too, so you don’t end up playing any music in the car and you end up having awkward conversations about each others day but really neither one of you cares. Then you get to the restaurant, do you sit outside, do you sit inside? Is it too windy outside you don’t want to mess up her hair but its the wind not you but its the first date so you feel like its you, but if you are inside do they seat you too close to the kitchen so you cant really have a conversation will the service be good? Then what happens? Maybe order a cocktail, she’ll play it safe maybe a dirty martini, men drink beer you should probably get a beer, don’t get wine she got vodka don’t book a one way ticket to queer-town but if she wants wine do i get wine but i don’t really want wine. White or Red, what are the rules again what wine goes with what food, oh god I want to look classy…Then what do we share an appetizer? Maybe the bruschetta but thats really messy, does she like tomatoes i like tomatoes but oh mans what if she hates them, how about the calamari that would be good okay we will have the calamari. Time for entrees? Ok I need another minute to look over the menu, I’ll let you order for yourself but i know what you are going to get. Go ahead order your salad, but we just had an appetizer why would you order another pre-dinner meal oh because thats protocall, you dont want to look like a fat cow gorging down a 22oz sirloin in front of me, and what if you eat really fast then I will clock your eating time compared to my dog, my dog eats fast so you will probably play it safe, order the salad, balsamic dressing hold the onions who likes onions on a salad anyway. Go ahead eat slow I have an entire game-hen in front of me. And then the bill comes and the waiter puts it in front of me, thanks jackass, and you do this adorable little thing where you pick up your clutch and you open it slowly and rummage through it, but you act like its a never ending pit and you cant find anything and by this time my card is already in the bill on the table and you play this little song and dance “no no please, lets split it, please…please….please…I insist….please lets split it” but really you are saying one of two things you either want to split it because you want to get the hell out of dodge and send a clear signal that this date ended as soon as it started or you are testing me to see if we are really a gentleman and will refuse, refuse, refuse your attempts at paying and insist you put the card away so eventually you give up but in the back of your head you are giggling, at another victory but really the jokes on you because you just had 3 pieces of calamari and a bowl of lettuce…you are still starving, Ill drop you off at home but you just have to go back inside and make Easy Mac or Romen Noodles to stave off the hungry pains you just gave yourself, maybe curl up on the couch with your girlfriends, during a DVR’d episode of Dancing With The Stars and cackle about the meal and terrible conversation, both of which were free. I mean, to be honest though most of the entire time you were talking I was just sitting there nodding my head waiting my turn to tell a better story that included less about you and way more about me.

A special thanks to jackasses like Michael Buble who sing songs like “I Just Havent Met You Yet” who allow people to have the insane idea that a first date can be a proactive attempt at finding the mate of your dreams. Sure, and I go on vacations to find bury treasure.

Heidi Montag now gives handjobs for hotdogs.

Thu, 15 Apr 2010 09:47:26 -0400

Heidi Montag now gives handjobs for hotdogs.

Please feel free to kill yo’self if… A) The above...

Thu, 15 Apr 2010 08:14:30 -0400

Please feel free to kill yo’self if…

A) The above picture is your Facebook Profile Picture (really? best option?)

B) Your “About Me” is: “You have probably heard about the 6 week bootcamps I host”

C) All of the above

I find the outrage over Jesse James’ infidelities to be...

Tue, 06 Apr 2010 08:24:20 -0400

I find the outrage over Jesse James’ infidelities to be slightly hilarious. The outrage over Tiger Woods was a bit more understandable—an icon in a sport built on tradition and manners, a game for the elite gentleman. At what point did our society start assuming that a guy who builds expensive motorcycles, has his own reality TV show, and is covered in tattoos would be the most upstanding citizen. Are you really that surprised that he was having extra curricular activities with a woman with a face tattoo? Really? In my grandmother’s day these people were circus freaks, a traveling band of performers traveling the globe on trains, like gypsies just looking for their next boardwalk performance. But now? The fire eater gets the prom queen in Sandra Bullock. The man has an arm band tattoo of a motorcycle chain.

The Original Jesse James was a was an American outlaw, gang leader, bank and train robber, and murderer from the state of Missouri. And you are surprised that the modern day Jesse James is a bad boy?

While in Vegas a few weeks ago, I was fortunate enough to get...

Tue, 30 Mar 2010 11:07:27 -0400

While in Vegas a few weeks ago, I was fortunate enough to get all hooked up at Tryst by a guy I went to college with that is now the VIP director…we have a table and bottles right next to the waterfall. its me, my buddy and 4 girls from nashville.

so we are having fun and around 230AM, my stomach starts grumblin, most likely from the full rack of ribs i ate for dinner around 9PM at a dive restaurant located in a casino which was attached via an overhang to a motel 8—Ellis Island, as it was named.

so im sitting at the table saying to myself “lock it up. lock it up. rule number 1 of a nightclub. you do not shit in a nightclub”

eventually i feel like im about to start sweating. i convince myself that i dont have enough time to go into the hotel lobby and that that is an equally bad decision because i may not be able to get back in.

so there i go, into the tryst mens room, to violate rule number 1.

luckily for me, the stalls at Tryst are their own little mini rooms, with a large wooden door with venitian blinds.

usually i am pretty quick on the pot, sometimes to the point of people not being able to tell if i number 1 or number 2’d.

well, a new number may be needed to added to the scale for what happened in stall #1 in the mens bathroom of the tryst nightclub located in the wynn hotel in the city of las vegas, nevada of the united states of america planet earth, solar system

there i sat, as I essentially recreated the dropping of the atomic bomb on nagaski.

Eventually, things began waft. and my nostrils lit on fire. i sat there contemplating my options. it was a foregone conclusion that I would be going home alone, because I would surely get vomit on my stomach considering my balls would be chilling at the gates of hell for the remainder of the evening.

i took a deep breath and eventually pulled myself together. i opened the door to the stall and staring back at me like a mugshot is the tiny mexican bathroom attendant, and he is accompanied by a pale and a mop. Literally, this pale was up to his knees. He could have cleaned up a double homicide and suicide crime season.

apparently the fumes had drifted thru the venetian blinds.

eventually the aroma of disaster hit his nostrils, he shook like a wet dog and whispered “EL DIABLO” while looking at the floor and shaking his head. i quickly washed up, and returned to my vip table, eventually making it home by 5am.

SINS POSTS ON HOLD....ITS A GOOD THING

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 15:34:26 -0500

ANY NEW SINS POSTED ARE BEING NEATLY WRITTEN, FOLDED AND PLACED IN MY BACK POCKETS FOR THE TIME BEING….THERE MAY BE A BOOK/MOVIE WRITING OPPORTUNITY ON THE HORIZON, SO IM BEING SELFISH AND KEEPING IDEAS TO MYSELF…YOU WILL ALL BE INVITED TO PARTY AT MY MANSION AND YACHT AFTER THE FIRST $20 GEORGE WASHINGTONS ARRIVE