Hi Flabby, I am a 45-year old white male. For the past year or so, my wife of 17 years has been refusing any of my attempts at intimacy. Just last night, I bought her favorite bottle of wine and turned on some Sinatra (the type of thing that really used to get her in the mood). However, right when I thought I was rekindling the old flame, she said, “I can never go back.” What does that mean? Is it some sort of woman code that I can’t decipher? Please help me understand, Flabby. - Blueballed in Kentucky
Dear Blueballed. I am not going to dance around the subject. I believe your wife has recently had sex with a black man. The only hope you have is banking on the chance that she is secretly a deep down racist, like most white people. What you should do is arrange any future date with her in the worst part of town. Have her wear her most expensive jewelry, make sure you have a billfold overflowing with cash hanging out of your back pocket, and leave your car doors open after you park. Statistically, you are bound to get mugged. If luck has it, it will be a black man who takes the opportunity. At this point, your wife may be just racist enough to swear off any black man in the future, otherwise known as the Paula Deen effect. Then she will have no choice but to go back to your tiny, shriveled, white penis. Good luck.
Have you ever pondered S’mores? Henceforth referred to as “smores” because I don’t want to keep typing the apostrophe, smores are a pseudo-cleverly-titled contraction of “some” and “more” whose own title boasts that you will simply need to have some more. I’m assuming it was named this because somebody thought they were so tasty. This is where I have a problem:
Smores aren’t that tasty. Really, hear me out. I want you to eat a graham cracker sometime. What does it taste like? Cardboard with a slight honey flavor. Now eat a marshmallow. What does it taste like? Some mushy fluff with a slightly sweet-yet-dull flavor that makes you gag if you eat more than three in a sitting. Now eat your basic Hershey’s chocolate bar. Sure, it’s probably like the greatest thing ever to some kid in some poor-as-balls part of the world, but this is America. In this country where people are not satisfied with just two patties on one burger, a plain-ass chocolate bar just doesn’t cut it. And that’s why people only buy them in bulk to make what? SMORES!
And, as you can guess, smores are just a hot mess of dull. Really, until you choke through the dry-turned-gooey mess of the cracker and toasted marshmallow to score the melted chocolate, you taste nothing. And when you do get there, you are just eating melted chocolate. Trying in vain to believe that this sandwich of blah is so awesome that you simply MUST HAVE S’MORE! (Sorry, last apostrophe.) Hey, if what you like is melted chocolate, then just stick a Hershey’s bar in your pocket on a hot day and enjoy 30 minutes later. It’s a lot less hassle than building a fire and assembling all the necessary ingredients to make this huge letdown.
Is that a Hershey’s bar in your pocket, or are you just shitting your pants?
This also makes me wonder, who invented the smore? And not so much that, but who named it? Really, are there many, if any, other foods where the title of it just brags about how awesome it is? And, as I have already stated, smores are not. Just think of all the other food that could have been more accurately titled “smores.” Pizza, garlic bread, milkshakes, Lays chips and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches all deserve this hyperbolic title more than the mishmash of nothing that is the smore. You know what I would have named smores instead of “smore”? Blandies. Or Oops-I’ll-tryagains. Or, if I want to be generous, perhaps even Prettygoods.
So I think the smore must have been invented in like the 1800s when all people had to eat was plain grass and gun powder. And it was invented by this guy:
"I wanted to call them "Partakeagains", but the wife suggested something modern." - Old Ass 1800s dude
And it was mindblowing at the time. It was akin to a stupid highschooler seeing Inception. People just popped bones through their pantaloons. But time has changed, and now the most bland snack with the most overrated title still haunts us at every campfire moreso than any of the ghost stories one may tell.
I will admit however that smores Poptarts are awesome. But it has nothing to do with the smore, and everything to do with the poptart. The poptart merely allows the smore (which is barely a smore anyway at this point) to merge into its graceful presence. Like, chocolate poptarts are already awesome, so who cares about the smore? “Sure, go ahead Mr. Smore. Add a little more flavor, you can’t hurt anything at this point.” It’s like adding a recorder to an already-awesome flute section. Nobody will notice. Can’t hurt nothin’. Just let Betsy have a little fun out there. She needs to feel involved.
This is the only pic I could find that relates to my point. Yes I know it’s fake.
But back to plain-ass smores, the real reason I’m picking on them is because they have the huge balls to tell me to my face that I will need more of them. Like I’m some sort of crackhead, and that the crack happens to be marshmallows and chocolate and grahams. It’s like a stupid marketing scheme built into the name of the food. It’s a turnoff. Like if a girl’s name was “Bonnie Bangagain.” You’d be like, “Dang, that’s pretty obvious. I think it’s a trap.” And even if you went for it, she’d turn out to have a wiener. I’m just saying, you have to question something that sounds too good to be true. Because it’s probably a smore.
- El Espectro
My son has a tugboat bath toy, and it has a Captain. However, whenever I refer to The Captain, I cannot use the words “he” or “she.” The Captain is a sexless being of unknown origin and, quite frankly, I can’t tell if the Captain is black or white, male or female, or even if The Captain would have any genitalia at all if The Captain were indeed a real Captain.
The Captain represents “equality.” And if everybody is treated equally, and are truly equal, then that means the Captain cannot have a penis. The Captain cannot have a vagina. The Captain must have nothing. Because if the Captain can have a penis and somebody else cannot, that would be unfair. What would that teach our youth, for the Captain to have something that others cannot? No, The Captain must represent everybody, and everybody must represent The Captain. There cannot be right. There cannot be wrong. There cannot be rich. There cannot be poor. There cannot be hard-working or lazy. There cannot be sick or healthy. There cannot be talent or lack thereof. Beauty or ruin. There can only be…
- El Espectro
(This article was in no way a rip at our beloved co-editor, also now-unfortunately-named The Captain. In fact, I forgot that was his name until I wrote this.)
Today while driving to work I asked myself a question. A question that has been pondered for many ages, yet never really been resolved. What is truly the most athletic sport there is?
What is the sport that is so close to a person’s being that, were you to take away the ball or puck or stick or whatever, and focus solely on movement, reaction time, flexibility, strength, stamina, cognitive capability, strategic prowess, etc., actually defines one’s athletic ability scientifically. By way of what sport, and one’s proficiency at it, could you actually put a dot on a chart and say “Here. You are a level 8 athlete.”
Fortunately, I came up with the answer (and if you read the title of this article you already know)…Tennis.
Oh…you don’t believe me? Read on…(or just watch this video).
So here’s how I figure it goes. Think of all the sports you can. Now take away the team sports. That’s step one.
Sorry. I know it’s tough, but it’s factually unfounded to say a team sport athlete is a good athlete when you can’t…well…prove it. Too much of what a team sport player does relies on the people surrounding him/her. Put a dangerous hitter behind a crappy one, and the crappy guy/gal is bound to get better pitches to hit out of respect for the guy/gal behind him/her. Sure, you could take said athlete to the tennis court and find out for sure, but until then, it’s like saying the Loch Ness Monster can’t be proven not to exist. It’s possible, but it’s not factual.
Of course you counter, “What about doubles?!”
Well, you’re right. Doubles don’t count.
That was easy enough. Now, to investigate offense.
Q: What time does Sean Connery show up at Wimbledon? A: Tennish
Ted Williams once said hitting (a baseball) was the single most difficult task in all of sports. A round ball coming into contact with a round bat leaves very little surface area for perfection, but I’m not here to prove the most difficult thing to do; I’m here to prove the most athletic.
Each sport has it’s own unique, though sometimes quite similar, method of scoring points; however, at some point, you have to draw the line on whether or not the scoring method is athletic or not. What is shooting a basketball? What is driving a race car? How does this aspect of the sport extend the natural ability of the athlete out into the game? Why did I even bother mentioning NASCAR when everyone knows that’s not even close to a sport?
Yes. This man is an athlete.
To sum up the answer to these questions, I think you have to eliminate anything with a stick.
To elaborate a bit more, eliminate anything with an awkward unnatural physical motion (yeah, that can be a bit subjective, but just trust me), anything that requires too much configuration of the land on which the sport is played, and ALMOST anything with an apparatus separating the athlete from the score.
Tennis players, of course, use a racket, but to me, it’s still good. A racket is short. The end is big. A tennis ball is very bouncy. It’s hard to screw up. Against a pro tennis player, the average person doesn’t stand a chance, but ask yourself, if two people wanted to run out and quickly bat the ball back and forth, barring one of the friends being a pro tennis player, a game could still be achieved. Put some ice skates on someone that’s never skated before and try to say the same. A tennis racket, to me, can still be considered an extension of the arm.
That said, at this point, many sports have been eliminated, but many more are still contenders. Coincidentally, just like in pretty much every sport, you win in the playoffs with defense.
Defense is one half of what makes a sport a sport. It’s the counter to offense, and without it, you’re left with golf, ballet, and high diving. Which, by the way, are all disqualified from the competition. Yeah. Sorry ultra-defensive feel-good mom wearing this T-shirt, but without staring your opponent directly in the eye while he/she tries to score those points right in your face, you’re only competing with yourself. Master’s Champion you say? Masturbation, says I.
I knew Palmer used two hands…
This leaves us with tennis and…wrestling.
So what separates these two? What is it about tennis that makes it the true sport and leaves wrestling thinking back on it’s high school glory days on it’s lunch break at the fireworks factory? Well, tennis is real and wrestling is…fake.
That’s right. I don’t just mean professional wrestling either. I mean all wrestling. Why do you think they dropped it from the 2020 Olympic games?
Just watch this video and tell me I’m wrong.
See?! Bullshit!! There’s NO WAY that handicapped kid could have won. The loser didn’t even try to get out of that hold, and that call by the ref seemed a bit premature, though it’s hard to tell from that angle where the loser’s shoulders were. Of course, there’s a lot more questionable points to be made about that match, and I could go on, but it seems pretty clear the legitimacy of wrestling and it’s place as a finalist in this competition. It’s not.
And again, that leaves us with…Tennis.
I’m writing this with shaving cream still half on my face because sometimes, ideas don’t care where you are when they strike, and as everyone probably knows, mundane daily activities set in our routine are the places where our minds always wander into strange areas.
I was thinking about relationships. My personal ones, actually. I have been struggling lately to answer some questions about a particular current one. It’s a question that permeates all of my relationships and life as a whole.
Usually I say to people, “If you’re indifferent, then you probably should get out. To love someone or something is a far more positive feeling than just ‘okay.’”
I thought, “Have I lowered my standards?” Something I always said I would never do.
And the answer seems to be yes.
But not in the quality of the people I interact with or the things I choose to do with my time, but the whole life experience.
And I think I may have figured out the cause. I think I’ve been having trouble making decisions with things of this nature lately because I have learned in time just to say ‘yes’ to everything.
"Can you come into work today?" - Yes
"Do you want to come to this party Saturday?" - Yes
"Would you do me a favor?" - Yes
Now, none of these things are particularly bad to say ‘yes’ to, but sometimes, it’s too much. Sometimes we say ‘yes’ to everything for the wrong reasons.
Maybe we say ‘yes’ to avoid our own lives. Feel connected to others. Get so busy we don’t have to think about how we’re not where we want to be. Maybe we just don’t have the energy for the ensuing argument. Maybe we try to help too much.
Again, it’s not a bad thing to help too much. But for most people, including myself, I think there’s a line. There’s a line where we don’t feel like we’re actually helping or doing good. I think perhaps this is because the things we say ‘yes’ to sometimes really aren’t that important. We’re not saying ‘yes’ to help out children in 3rd world countries. We’re saying ‘yes’ to working on Saturday or ‘yes’ to watching someone’s dog while they’re on vacation even though the only time they talk to you is when they need something.
We’ve just convinced ourselves, so that we may deal with the subconscious feeling that what we’re doing is a waste of time, that what we’re saying ‘yes’ to is important.
But I can’t knock this mind trickery too hard. My external life has become much better in recent times do to my overwhelmingly outgoing and positive ‘yes’ ‘yes’ ‘yes’ approach. I have a girlfriend. I have a far better job than before. I interact with everyday people much better. I’m generally not the social freak and loser-hiding-in-his-bedroom-working-on-a-music-project-no-one-will-ever-hear anymore. I’ve actually been able to finish those music projects and get people to hear them now. Once, only an unrealized desire.
Maybe this soul killing robotic yes-to-everything approach is the way to go. Or maybe, it’s what I needed at the time and don’t want anymore. Perhaps the spoils of victory can’t be enjoyed when you’ve won a war you didn’t want to fight.
I’m very glad that I’ve learned how to interact with people now by jumping into the pool not yet knowing how to swim. But now I can swim. And I don’t need any more lessons.
I don’t know how this is going to impact my life now (though I have some ideas). I just know that I no longer want to water down all the things that were once important to me by trying to bring things that aren’t, up to that level. It’s too confusing for my mind and soul and is distorting my incorporeal vision.
Maybe I’ll just have to be pissy sometimes. Maybe I’ll turn some people down and make them sad. Maybe that’s better for them in the end. Maybe I’ll be sadder myself. Who could know?
But sadness is a part of life. And maybe that’s the overall theme here. You don’t need to avoid it. You don’t need a pill to get rid of it. It’s as important as happiness. And while too much sadness always gets a bad name. Maybe it’s time too much happiness also got the same negative attention.
So the hashtag #missinglettergames was trending on Twitter yesterday. It pretty much means you make up something funny by taking one letter out of a video game title. Some people used board game names to edit, but those people are stupid. I know it isn’t cool to keep Tweeting about a trend past its due date, but I couldn’t help it. I had to show the world how unfunny it was before I came along. I had to dominate. I had to create these:
Ocarina of Tim
Parappa the Raper
Kirby’s Ream Land
Dr. Robotnik’s Man Bean
Sonic Pinball ;)
Sega Ass Fishing
House of the DEA
Alone in the Ark
I apologize for blowing your mind so early in the morning. Also, to see how truly genius I am, search the hashtag #missinglettergames on Twitter. You will soon see that my wordplay and knowledge of all obscure games is unparalleled. Except somebody else said Left 4 Dad. I liked that one.
- El Espectro
What the hell does “The tide of history only advances when people make themselves fully visible…” mean? How is history like a tide? How does a tide advance? I don’t think anyone knows what words mean anymore. Please tell me if I’m stupid. It would better help me plan a career path. But I’m fairly certain this was a phrase generated by a computer. Or a very very retarded person. Fortunately, some of this was written decently. Anyway, congrats on being gay, Anderson Cooper.
Side note: I also sense a gaping lack of creativity in writing on “coming out” headlines. Though, I guess it’s like the “F” word when you’re a kid and it still had some meaning.
Movie Review. Full spoilers ahead.
CG has come a long way. Still, that shadow makes it look like he has a goatee.
Alright, I’m not a film critic. At best, I’m a video game reviewer. And that’s really just imaginary. But hey, aren’t you tired of hearing the same old crap of “story arcs” and “genres” anyway. Here’s a review from somebody with nothing to prove except that he saw the movie.
Anyway, Avengers was awesome. They even made Hawkeye look decent. I mean, for a short guy with no powers except shooting arrows. I will admit I have never read any comic books, so maybe he’s cooler in them. But I really don’t give a crap, because I’m reviewing this film. So, fine, Hawkeye sucks. But only compared to the real superheroes in the film.
At first I was mad that the Hulk’s Edward Norton was replaced by that guy people apparently have heard of before even though I have no idea who the hell he is. I can’t tell if he’s Jewish or Arabian or what. But I liked him. He’s on my list now. My list of people not to kill.
You see, I don’t have a hit list. I have a non-hit list. It’s very short.
Moving along, the girl who played Black Widow isn’t that attractive. A friend of mine would disagree, but that’s because he secretly likes men. No, for real though, she played her role well. I just don’t understand the commotion about her really.
Captain America is cool. I forgive the actor who played him for also being Johnny Blaze at one point in those crappy Fantastic Four movies. Also, Captain America is old fashioned. Like me. I still use a hand-powered can opener. And I don’t not believe in God. And I do it in missionary position. Well, at least at first.
Thor, contrary to what I first thought of him, is pretty cool. I like how he is the most “unbelievable” of all the characters. I think comic book films need more fantastical elements to them, and this film balanced the realistic with the “holy-shit-what-the-F-is-that-giant-flying-straight-out-of-gears-of-war-creature.”
Unlike the new Batman movie. Batception. Seriously, it looks like they filmed a generic action movie and at the last second decided to make the leading actor wear a Batsuit. Nothing about this trailer screams Batman to me. NOTHING!
Iron Man is Iron Man, he gets to say funny (reviewers would say “snarky”) comments to people. And, as I thought, he was the most fun to watch. Well, tied with the Hulk. CG Hulk was pretty awesome. I think CG actors, like Caesar the Ape, Gollum, and Angelina Jolie are going to replace real actors pretty soon if this keeps happening.
As for the storyline, it was good. Thor’s brother plays a turd pretty well. And it’s fun seeing his ass kicked. Samuel L. Jackson assembles the team despite some government leader group disapproving and pretty much gives them the finger. As a side note, the trailer for The Expendables 2 was cool but there was something missing. When the logo assembles and the skullbird or whatever it is has knives come out of it and then like two rows of guns come out from both sides, I thought it would be sweet if a giant chrome middle finger came out of the top of its head too.
Oh well, maybe for part 3.
Anyways, hope you liked my non-review of The Avengers. As for the spoilers, I LIED!- El Espectro
Does Stinky Ghost do movie reviews? Who knows? What’s our rating system? How should I know? I used to say that movies pretty much fell into two categories. Mind blowing or bullshit. Really, what is the point of stars 2-4 (or 2-9 if you use a 10 star system)? My friend Matt once said, “Why is there a middle to the basketball court? Nothing ever happens there. Wouldn’t this game be much more fun to watch if they only kept the part of the court where the scoring happens?”
And you know what? He was right.
So I propose, here and now, that our rating system be “Mind Blowing” or “Bullshit” and nothing else. Maybe this will change. Who knows?
But what I do know is this. A couple years ago Cap’n Stinky and I watched a movie called "Timecrimes". It was a movie about a mexican guy who accidentally time traveled while he was checking out some naked girl in the woods near his house. It was all in Spanish. But it was mind blowing. And I don’t really like to throw that term around.
Really, it was just a ripoff of this episode of the Twilight Zone called "Spur Of The Moment". By the way, don’t click that unless you want to spoil the movie. But still, the movie was sweet. Hilarious (mostly because it was in Spanish and everything’s funnier in Spanish. Don’t believe me? Click here), engaging, you name it. Had us at the edge of our seats the whole time.
Anyway, check it out. It’s still on Netflix instant as of this date. It’ll blow your mind.