Twitter Fame

Ok, so I’m not really famous but I kind of am.

Today while surfing the internets for a sweet new Twitter App, a coworker of mine came across ‘Spaz’ (which can be found here). The best thing about it? The beautiful avatar attached to a fantastic piece of literature… aka: my Tweet.

Ladies and gentlemen! My tweet to @popthestack has been immortalized! I am one step closer to being an internet celebrity.

Please leave your praises and accolades in the comments below.

If you would like to follow me on Twitter (which I know you do), just click here… or here… or even here. You won’t regret it, I’m a funny guy.

1 comment.

Head of Skate

So, I came across this hilarious parody today. I thought that some of you would enjoy it. The ones who don’t need to lighten up a little.

I encourage you all to vote… and remember, those of you who are Mormon, Mormon does not = Republican. Vote smart. Vote hard.

Also… this is awesome too…

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Turning In My Man Card

Last night we hosted a movie watching party. After the movie ended, we carried on late into the night with our mindless banter and friendly pleasantries as college students tend to do.

At one point, my friend Charlotte was laying upon our Lovesac, tenderly named The Fornicator. As she lay there sprawled out, unsuspecting of any ill that should befall her, I pounced. I tickled her until she couldn’t breathe. She screamed for help, but it was to no avail… until… SHE arrived.

Julie can’t weigh more than a buck 10, but before I knew it my hand had been twisted up behind me and I was scratching the back of my neck in a very uncomfortable manner. I winced in pain as she tugged again and my body involuntarily rolled off The Fornicator. I laid there on the floor, out of breath and in complete shock.

I just got submitted by a girl. I didn’t even have a chance to fight back… not that I would, but still. All of my hopes and dreams of fighting in The Octagon were dashed by a soft-spoken 18-year-old who suddenly had transformed into a tool of death. No more shameless tickle-flirting for Bags…

I need to completely rethink my flirting philosophy. Any recommendations?

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Bippity Boppity TITTY TWISTER!

I didn’t know he could scream that loud… or that high. I also didn’t realize my toes were capable of inflicting so much pain.

Last night my roommate invited me over to his sister’s apartment to have Sunday dinner. Little did I know we were submitting ourselves to be bombarded by a steady tide of overwhelmingly zealous Disney fanatics.

My roommate’s sister has a roommate who would put any 8-year-old girl to shame with her Disney fanaticism. She has spent years working at Disney theme parks, and has probably spent just as many years viewing Disney productions. Normally, she keeps Disney talk in moderation so that other people can retain their sanity by having adult conversations… but last night, she invited her Disney friends over. And my, what a gay ole’ time we had.

After about 7 full minutes of listening to conversations about and even directly at the giant blue plush ‘Stitch’ doll, my brain melted into an irreconcilable puddle of mush.

I noticed that my roommate was still impressively sane. He had someone’s laptop in front of him. When asked what he was doing, he claimed that he was ‘fixing’ it. He invited me to help.

I crawled down on the floor next to him and gazed at the monitor. When what to my wondering eyes should appear? No, not Santa or his deer… but FAIL blog! As my brain re-solidified, I began to laugh. We made it through about 10 pages before my eyes had to take a break. I sat up to stretch and my roommate rolled over onto his back.

I swear they have a mind of their own… My toes just reached up and clasped my roomie by his bosom and gave a sharp twist. The shriek that emitted from the man on the floor was really quite impressive. It even made the Disney girls stop dead in the middle of their conversation about who is sexier, Prince Eric or Prince Charming, and gasp at the non-animated reality that surrounded them.

After writhing on the floor for a good minute or two, we all had a good laugh and I put my socks back on. I wonder if any Disney princes can pinch with their toes.

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Did I Say I Wanted To Be A Hippie?

Ok, so last week, I talked about peace, love and Bob Marley… or whatever the third thing hippies like is. That was before I saw this video though.

I have a strong feeling that these people not only love the tress, but they probably also smoke them.

Of all the things to be concerned about (war, abortion, poverty, genocide) how can this be your primary concern? People are wiggidy-wack.

Can you imagine if some extra terrestrial being came across this movie and had to base their conceptions of humans off of these hyper-emotional, completely detached granolas?

Favorite quotes from the video:

“There are some people here who do care! So I want you to know that trees!”

“Bring me to to this rock that has the most incredible life. That makes me feel alive.”

“I didn’t scream and I didn’t cry… and I need to. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” (This is the part where I start laughing uncontrollably.)

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The Smell That Could Devistate A Small Army

When I woke up this morning, I was excited. It’s Friday. I love Fridays. I love them so hard.

I was out of bed, showered and out the door early enough that I was going to be a solid 5 minutes early to work. That meant there was no reason to speed on the freeway. I could just sit back and enjoy some good tunes, and maybe chat it up with my boss before getting started with my day.

As I approached my freeway exit in American Fork, however, I received a solid smack in the face. I have never experienced a sense so strong that it completely overwhelmed other senses, but the smell that entered my olfactory glands was so overpoweringly putrid that it literally felt like a baseball bat to the teeth.

I winced in pain as my brain went into overload.

I pulled into my office hoping that the smell would diminish after going inside. It did, until someone else decided to enter the building. Normally, I love my seat next to the door. I can’t get enough of the sunshine and the occasional breeze as people come and go. Today, however, I did not feel the same. I think I only inhaled 3 times between the hours of 8:00 and 10:00 am.

Typically, after holding your breath for so long your body would begin to fight your compulsion to hold in the air and make you breathe in. In this case, my body did the opposite. It literally opposed my will to breathe.

“Don’t make me inhale again!” It screamed as I tried to provide my brain with enough oxygen to keep me alive for another few minutes. It was as if someone had shoved my head into the very anus of Satan himself after eating at a cheap all you can eat Indian buffet.

Whoever is responsible for the absolute foulness that was allowed to be sprayed upon my place of employ like a skunk from the underworld should be shot, hanged, shot again and then incinerated.

American Fork… I hate your poop farm.

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Famous

So, I’m almost famous. See?

Don’t worry though, I’ll bring you to Famous Land with me. Together, we can do it!

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Mary Poppins Syndrome

Mary Poppins can fly. Can you fly? I’m pretty sure you can’t. The woman is abnormally gifted… almost as if she weren’t human. She can clean a room with the snap of her fingers, pull anything she needs out of a handbag on a whim, and can even teleport herself and her friends into a magical, animated world at a moment’s notice.

She is always proper, and she’s friends with everyone. She can sing. She can dance. She’s great with kids. You could probably bottle her sweat and trade it for diamonds.

It’s unrealistic that anyone, even George Bush, could ever live up to fit her perfect stereotype. Why then, do so many people try?

It seems to me that those with the Mary Poppins Syndrome - people who attempt to be “pleasantly perfect in every way” - tend to be single girls fresh out of high school… or their parents sheltered protection. These are the girls who are used to getting straight A’s, eating three squares a day and shudder at the mere mention of a bodily function. They are always prim and proper and have a hard time laughing in public settings. Want a hug? Then prepare yourself for the infamous awkward sidearm… or even a rejection in exchange for a handshake, because heaven forbid your body touch another person’s body especially if it’s someone of the opposite sex… oops, I mean gender.

Seriously people, there is more to life than homework, reading classic novels and driving to your parent’s house every weekend to eat mom’s meatloaf. Let down your guard a bit.  We won’t judge you if you can’t burp the alphabet, or quote Zoolander… but at least try to have some fun. Otherwise, you will turn into the scary, old, bitter girl who is feared by both men and women of all ages.

Mary Poppins may have been pleasantly perfect in every way, but she still knew how to have a good time. So, take a spoon full of sugar with your homework, laugh a little and let down your hair. You might find out that perfection is overrated. Being normal can be satisfying if you give it a chance.

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Parker

Parker opened for Chris Merritt last night at Velour. I only saw his last two numbers, but I was incredibly impressed. I’ve never seen someone pull off an entire set by looping his voice and guitar chord progressions without looking like a complete tool. By the end, he even had the entire venue participating in his numbers. It was fantastic. If he ever comes back, I’ll be first in line to see him.

Check out his myspace page here.

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Inappropriate… But So Funny!

The following video is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. However, it is not, as my mother would say, “Sister Appropriate”.

Enjoy… unless your name is my little sister.

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