Another Person I Hate

So its Friday again, after a week of strenuous work I have let myself relax, had a cup of coffee or two and just returned from relieving myself. While standing at the urinal staring at the tiled wall I had time to think (it takes a lot of time for urine to pass though my long urethra). Glancing down to make sure my aim was on, I noticed about 7 or 8 pubes just sitting on the rim of the porcelain waterfall…Granted this is not the first time for me to see this, this is just the first time I have given it any thought.

Who is this person that has pubes this long?
More so, how do they have such an abundance of pubes that they are bursting from their pants?
Is it the fact that they are so long and their weight so massive that their body can simply no longer hold on to them?

After at least 3 minutes of deep thought I knew exactly who it was, and I immediately started hating them. Are you ready? Ladies, you need to know this too. You don’t want a chance run in with sasquatch.

It is that guy who wears the fucking short sleeve button-ups every day. You know who I’m talking about. That guy that goes to Stein-Mart and buys every fucking item with a polo horse on it. It doesn’t matter at all that it looks like Big Bird took a shit on it then gave it to a bunch of blind 4 year-olds to color on. Congrats, you got a Ralph Lauren shirt for 6.99! The only reason that shirt was ever made is so people like me could easily identify you. Does it not occur to you that it is located in the back of the store, on a rack that includes silk shirts that have dragons on them, for a reason? Why even buy a button up shirt that has short sleeves in the first place. It is like buying a BMW without leather….”Yeah, high-five you drive a BMW”…fast forward 10 min…”my legs are itchy”…..You are ultimately going to be upset with your purchase and everyone will see you for the douche bag you are. So do us all a favor, next time you want to spend your lunch money on an a gay shirt, think to yourself, “are my pubes getting too long?”

Writers note:

There are too acceptable occasions to wear a short sleeve button-up:
1. You are Mormon going door to door giving away bibles.
2. You are a mailman

Letter to my Future Self

Sometimes I lie awake late at night and wonder about the future. Where will I be? What job will I have? What will be the name of my robot dog? These are a few of the questions that scare me the most. I have decided to write my future self a letter. Being that the interweb is going to be around forever, I figured that posting it here would secure the fact that future Patrick reads it.

Dear Future Patrick (2011),

Let me start this letter by saying no, you are not gay, even if you did happen to finish at the same exact time they zoomed in on the male porn stars face. It was once....and they tricked you. Now that we have that out of the way......

So right now I'm dating this chic "J".....yeah I know, 1987....I bet you're dating some chic that was born in like 1995 (learn from the past, check her ID). Is she a freak? E-highfive! We are amazing. Is sex the same on the moon? Is zero gravity a form of birth control? WHO CARES we never use that shit anyways.

I'm sure you have a really awesome robot dog that that cooks chicken pot pies for you all the time. Man I love chicken pot pie....I guess you know that though. Is it illegal to have sex with a robot dog in the future? Just wondering.

I bet you make tons of money now. I have a little suprise for you. Here in my time (2008) I put about $157 into an off shore savings account. By offshore, I mean that I gave it to a guy in the Bahamas to hold and invest. I'm sure he has been making that money work for us. His contact information is as follows:

Goff Ukyurself
+ 001 911-867-5309

YOU'RE WELCOME.....we're loaded now I'm sure.

Well you are probably busy doing something really cool. Can't wait until I'm you.

Best,

Present Patrick (2008)

PS. If you could write back I'd really like some confirmation on that whole porn accident thing....It only happens once right?

The American Dream

So I lived though my birthday. Nothing really eventful happened. Just a normal weekend of:


1. Drinking large amounts of tequila
2. Going to an 80’s bar
3. Getting a lap dance
4. Dumping J

5. Sleeping on the floor next to my bed

I don’t understand…why would J get all weird about me getting a lap dance…I’m just sitting there minding my own business when some naked girl is straddling me. I did not ask her to do this. Who am I to tell her to leave. I am a nice guy and after all, I am at her business establishment. Who knows, she could be from a foreign country and this may be a custom of theirs. I sure don’t want to look like an unlearned American. She may have noticed my import beer and thought that I was from her country…It would have been really embarrassing for her if I had interrupted. Now that I think about it, she probably was foreign. I couldn’t understand a word she said, she wore some sort of tribal loin cloth and when we gave her a $5 bill she looked at it confusingly and gave us some hand signal. This girl is probably a scholar of some sort, realizing that I am a very smart gentleman, she wanted to greet me in the fashion they use in her homeland. It was such a multicultural experience. I expanded my knowledge of the world and myself.


This brings me to the reason I had to dump J. I was appalled at how narrow minded she could be. I could not possibly be with someone who was so judgmental of others customs. She does not know EVERY European custom. She simply closed her mind to the learning experience when this nice young lady went over to her and tried to greet her as she did me.

Though I am not sure that this is exactly what happened; I am pretty sure. Being the forgiving soul that I am, the next morning I acted like I completely forgot about dumping her (I didn’t want it to be awkward and I couldn’t bear to watch her cry for hours). As a matter of fact, I acted like I forgot large portions of the nights events. But what I do remember is giving one glistening star of a girl, a shot a life in America.

15 Days to Live

I was just informed by my friends that my life will be ending in 15 days. I have started to compile a list of things I need to do before my final day…strangely enough, on my list of 10 things, #’s1-5 and #8 all have something to do with my penis…weird.

What‘s a man to do once he turns 25. I imagine that on that day, as the clock strikes midnight, my balls will gain 827 new wrinkles and Matlock will be my favorite show. On the upside, if I crap my pants it really isn’t that big of a deal, old people do that.

I have noticed that hangover’s last a little longer and hurt a little more….I TiVo stuff that may run past 11PM…and worst of all, I use the phrase “yeah, they’re about our age” when referring to someone who is 30.

I have a few options. I could grow a ‘stache like Burt Reynolds, I’m pretty sure he stopped aging years ago, or I could go into full denial and start telling people lies about my high school football days.


Either way, I guess I should get started on my list:

#1. Find one Asian boy………..

Dillard's

Welcome to Friday bitches. Right now it is lunch time and as I sit in my office I look out the window and wonder…..did I scuff my K-Swiss’ last weekend…? I sure hope not ‘cause if I did I won’t be able to holla at the Shawtys tonight. Wait a tick…I really don’t even know what a Shawty is. I don’t even own a pair of K-Swiss’, though it seems that everyone else in Charlotte does.

My point:

Going out in Charlotte is getting really old. I see the same skanky girls every weekend…

I don’t even know how you would approach a girl like this…I’ll give it a shot:

Me-“hey that is a really nice backless shirt….Dillard’s?

Skank-*blank stare*

Me-“Yeah…this bar is great…cold beers (chuckle, look around like I hear someone call my name)

Skank-*blank stare*

Me-“ My friends are here somewhere…..Oh, hey!...You should go to Dillard’s this week…I saw a commercial and I think they are having a sale…”

Skank-*walks away*

Me- (thinking to myself) “yeah, that went well….she is going to be pleased that I told her about that sale”

Same bar…same scene every weekend…The only plus is that I do live directly across from the frattiest location in Charlotte. The only problem is that I live directly across the street... Got old very quickly…

Now that I think about it a little more…I’m not really sure if I am tired of the same bars or if I am just mad about the fact that my girlfriend doesn’t own a backless shirt. I may just buy her one.

Satin Sheets

I sleep on satin sheets…….the thing is…..I have no excuse as to why I bought them. I sleep alone every night. Though I wish I was, I am not Christian Troy and I am not gay. What is wrong with me…when picking them out I even thought about the colors in my room to see if they would match. Satin sheets are only acceptable if they are red. I bought gold.

For the first time in my life I own jeans that cost over $100 and get this, they are pre-faded . I own vertically striped shirts. Charlotte is slowly killing me. Next thing you know I will have gel in my hair and think it is acceptable to wear a t-shit and a sport coat with jeans and clean sneakers. I have seen guys in the bars that have shirts on with clever sayings like “I cuddle after” and “I spoon for poon”. These people should be sterilized.

I find myself holding my breath a lot. I don’t want to catch poor. These people are all clearly infected and spend every dime they have on stuff they saw on MTV.

NEWS FLASH….your name is Allen Westerson and you are from Pennsylvania. You are not friends with Timberland or Justin Timberlake. You live in an apt that you rent for $400 a month with your friends. You have to drive 30 min to get uptown. I know you probably work someplace in the mall….maybe Pure Denim or Neiman Marcus. You tell girls you are in Sales Marketing.

Stop spreading whatever disease you have. I don’t know if I can handle more than satin sheets and expensive jeans.

Sexy

Do you know the definition of sexy? Sexy is when she has to take sips of your drink because she has “X’s” on her hands. Sexy is when she gives you money at the date party because she can’t buy drinks at the bar. Sexy is when she cries because you won’t let her teddy bear sleep in the bed with the two of you anymore……uhhhhh……forget the last one…..I meant to say I know a guy that thinks that is sexy……

21 year olds can be sexy.

If I pretend she's 18….

I lived vicariously though my girlfriend for the past year and a half. I could still experience the excitement of, “does it matter that my eyes aren’t blue” and “oh shit the cops are here”.

I watched her turn from 19-20 and then 20-21…I didn’t like it one bit. How am I supposed to impress the guys now…..sure 1987 may still sound cool but the fact of the matter is she can now do everything I can do...except pee standing up and experience the fun of a random boner at work. Other than that we are equal. She can drive and vote (yeah, still not happy about the government letting women do those). She can buy tobacco and beer and if she wants a hand gun, game on.

I don’t know what I’m going to do when people ask what year she is in school and I have to say SENIOR. I could bind her feet like the Asians do to make them stop growing and her appear younger. I know, from now on when I am around she has to wear her HS senior class shirt.