How To Make This Memorial Day Weekend Fun, Fun, Fun

It's that time again. The unofficial kickoff to the summer. Back when I was in high school we would go down to the shore, rent a hotel/motel for the weekend, kick back, and drink some beer. Lots and lots of beer. Of course, I don't condone such behavior because I was a wayyyy mature 17-year-old. Now it seems as I get a little bit older, it's losing its luster. I'm no longer sleeping in a bed with 4 other people passed out drunk. Nor am I vomiting on those 4 people. Instead I go to friends' houses and sit and relax and barbecue and calmly drink beers. It's amazing what can happen in 6 years time. So I've taken the liberty to concoct all the ways that you can still have fun this weekend.

1.) Stop updating what you're doing on Facebook - I don't know how many updates I've seen for the past week or two about people proclaiming their excitement for this impending weekend. I don't give a fuck that your are going to Bethany Beach, Dewey Beach, OBX (Outer Bankxxx), Miami, Las Vegas, or wherever the fuck else you bothered me with. Facebook is a social medium thats intended use is so I can stalk your pictures. Or your previous boyfriends. I don't need to see the constant updates about how excited you are. Fuck you.

2.) Stop updating what you're doing on Twitter - Same deal. But this time it bothers me more. Stop ranting about how much packing you have to do. As far as I'm concerned, MDW is a 4-day weekend, tops. How much shit are you fucking packing? Do you plan on moving to the beach? If so, I could give two shits less. I like going on Twitter to see people make fun of some random person they don't know. Or for some philosophical shit. Not your play-by-play as to how the traffic is, where you are going, who's going with you. None of it. If I'm not involved, I don't fucking care. So leave Twitter alone. Please.

(So really the first two were for my sake, and I'm pretty much the only one who matters, so...)

3.) Avoid your parents at all costs - Unless your parents are fun as shit, which I doubt, exclude them from all of your plans. Actually, I think you should go the extra mile to ensure that you are somewhere that they won't be. I don't want to have family time, I don't want to sit and eat Chilean Sea Bass from the grill and drink wine coolers, I don't want to eat your organic, nitrates-free hot dogs, and I don't want to listen about your problems. I would prefer to be with my friends, making everyone feel awkward as I describe the parts of the male genitalia, and get hammer-drunk. These are things I can't do if mommy and daddy are around. The same reasons probably apply to you.

4.) Bring condoms - They say that the most pregnancies occur each year on Memorial Day Weekend. People are so excited for the summer that they are willing to have sex with anything that has a pulse and two legs. That's good news for me because I am ready, willing, and able. Plus, they are probably really slutty and will let you do anything you want to them. In that Kanye West/Katy Perry "E.T." song when he raps "And then Imma probe you" he has to be referring the butthole right? Every alien abduction case I ever read about includes an anal probing, not a vaginal or oral one. Well to get back on point, I think most of the girls will be up for probing this weekend as well. So add "lubrication" to your list that includes condoms.

5.) Just get hammer drunk - Even if you get stuck with your parents, everything is better when you're hammer drunk. It's even better when you're with friends. Anything can happen when everyone is smashed. Games of "Kings" in which people are getting naked, girls going to pee in laundry rooms because they are that out of it, pissing yourself, sleeping on a trampoline. All these things are possible and likely if you black out with your friends and have a group sleepover. Group sleepovers are underrated and that's usually when the most fun occurs. So it would be in your best interest to sleep with all of your friends and hope for the best. That's why we went to college, duh.

This MDW I will be alone in my room playing Dungeons & Dragons being bitter that everyone is having so much fun and having sex and being drunk and updating their Twitter and Facebook about how much fun they are having. But it will all be thanks to me that you are having that much fun. All because you read my blog and got some ideas. Ideas that only I could think of because "I am better than you."

The Best Way To Get In A Girl's Pants Is Magic

I once received a text message on my phone sometime during the 2007-2008 school year. The text read "I can't stop thinking about magic." It was from a friend of mine, the same friend who found it necessary to camp in our apartment watching shitty movies on HBO because he didn't want to pay for cable. And heck, I never minded walking into my house to see him sitting there watching anything. His presence alone ensured a fun time. One day he saw a video of David Blaine on Youtube, and magic became a new fascination that would only be quenched once it was fully mastered. These next 3 weeks were beyond entertaining for me. (P.S. He really thought this was David Blaine)

It all started with card tricks. Finding the 4 Jack's who robbed the bank, or throwing them at the wall and holding some Ace was what I became accustomed to. I didn't get to see any of those lame quarter behind the ear tricks or doves flying out of hats. It mostly started and ended with card tricks. Once he got comfortable enough, he took his talents on the road. The road meaning our next door neighbors apartment. Four girls, 2 of which had boyfriends. But really nice, cool down to earth chicks. Time for the magic show. He performed his patented two card tricks and did them well. I think they pretended to care. I was in awe.

After that show was when magic really took over. I received a text message at 5:14 am stating the above message. I knew it had engrossed him and wouldn't stop until it failed. The true test would be if it worked at a party. Get a girl really drunk, show her some magic tricks, and see if her panties will drop. But we had one problem. Our master illusionist was in a long-term, committed relationship. There would be no panty-dropping. So we settled on watching the 'The Prestige' with Christian Bale on repeat. I never found out if magic tricks worked on drunk chicks. That is until today. I'm taking up magic.

I spent the early portion/my whole day going to local magic shops finding a cape and top hat that fit me perfectly. I went to a pet store and bought one of those albino-looking rabbits. I went to an animal rescue in my town and asked if they had any doves. They didn't, so I captured some pigeons in my backyard. Spray paint will work, won't it? I bought trick cards, trick coins, a wand, cups and balls, and last but not least, a Criss Angel DVD for beginners of magic. Since you already know all my secrets of how I became so good, don't be disappointed when I show you the neat tricks.

None of my friends respect me or would have sex with me, so I thought the next best thing to do would be to create a posting on Craigslist. In my posting, I wrote that I am an executive magician and that I can make a girl's panties drop with one flick of my magic wand. Whether they want to dive deeper into that and assume my private part is a wand is entirely up to their discretion. Otherwise, I showcased a picture of myself and my contact info. Not five minutes had passed before I received a phone call from a girl asking me to come show her some of my magic tricks. I simply had to oblige.

So I drove down about 25 miles from my house to this girl to show her some magic. I clearly didn't think this through because I don't know this girl at all and it could actually be a perverted man looking to have his way with a stellar young adult. Fortunately for me, it was a decent looking girl and my magic act began. I showed her several tricks, 1 or 2, until she told me to come up to her room. At this point in time if you have believed anything happened from paragraph 3 until now, you clearly are entirely too gullible. The only thing that drops girl's panties is her low self-esteem. That and a picture of me because "I am better than you."

Wine, Pretzels, Friends And The Nobel Prize

Today I had a very long, lengthy conversation with a friend. We talked for nearly 2 hours. But we didn't talk about anything relevant to our lives. Okay maybe a little bit relevant, but not particularly. And aren't these the kinds of conversations that determine what a true friendship is? How many people can you honestly think of that you talked to steadily for a long time without many meaningful words being spoken? These people you come across in life are few and far between. So when you do find them, you should probably keep them around because they seem to be good people. And that's what I plan on doing.

I never drink wine. I have never gotten intoxicated from drinking wine. But I have drank wine. Red wine and white wine. Something about it offends me. It's typically bitter and sweet. But not bittersweet. I'm sure 99% of those reading this have tasted wine before. Maybe you are Italian and drink it on your Sunday lunch/dinner. Maybe you went to France and drank some exquisite wines like the pompous asshole you are. Or you went to Napa Valley and guzzled down some fermented grapes. Either way, wine tastes like shit. Unless of course it involves a Tour de Franzia. A classic case of binge drinking. Finish the box of win before your opponent to win!

Pretzels are a delicious snack. I can eat pretzels all day every day until my molars are filled with its remnants. I like salty pretzels, Goldfish pretzels, SuperPretzels, and chocolate-covered pretzels. M&M's Pretzels and that's all. Honey Wheat pretzels are disgusting and a travesty bestowed upon the American public. If you like Honey Wheat flavored pretzels, I no longer like you. And what's the deal with Butter Snaps? I really like butter. On bread, popcorn, or my hair, you name it I like it. But on packaged pretzels? No way Jose. Lather some up and dump it on a SuperPretzel and I'm all for it. But please don't ruin my cold pretzel with fake-flavored butter.

I really miss my friends. Sometimes I tell them I hate them and that I don't miss them because I don't want them to see how weak I am. The hardest part of college isn't leaving behind the academics and the stress and the assholes on campus who are smarter than you. The hardest part of college is missing coming home to your friends laying in bed playing Tetris or watching Tourette's Guy videos on YouTube. Wishing that somebody was around to talk to and hang out with or maybe even watch the Food Channel with. Saddle up and play Gears of War for a solid hour or two. You don't get any of that when you live at home. And it sucks. That's why I miss my friends. But don't tell them I said so.

How do I go about being nominated for a Nobel Prize? I know they have categories for Physics, Chemistry, Medicine, Peace and most importantly Literature. Can someone who knows some laureates get them to nominate me for this accredited literature I produce on a daily basis? Is it too much to ask? Did you know that people who win the Nobel Prize receive a gold medal and a million dollars or so? Chances are if you're winning a Nobel Prize, money is not an issue for you. They should donate to the Human Fund or something. That's what I'm not going to do when you all help me achieve that goal.

See how easy it is to get wrapped up in all the hodgepodge? Don't you feel that much closer to me now than you did 3 minutes ago? I tend to have that effect on people. I've been told on numerous occasions that when people read the blog, they can hear my voice through the words. I don't know if that's a good thing or not, but I guess it evokes some kind of emotion in you. To my amigo (Spanish for "friend") that talked to me for 2 hours, who I was a piece of shit to at times, thanks for still being my friend. I appreciate your loyalty and ingenuinity. I feel like I'm growing up. Not enough to stop me from saying, "I am better than you."