I brought my “Legalize Original Four Loko” campaign to the streets of Washington

 

“Here’s to the crazy ones.

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The misfits. The bad boi’s. The jackhammers.

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The thiccc pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently (I don’t see color)

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They’re not fond of haterz. And they have no respect for the status quo (or mice).

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You can DM them, sexualize them, glorify or threaten to sue them because he interviewed your son who goes by the name of “Weymouth John”. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them (because I’ll text you 8 times in a row at 2am).

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Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.”

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XO Tour Life: Philly Day 2

Meant to publish this last night but I didn’t, so read it like it’s yesterday, I guess.

Another full day in the city of brotherly love (no homo). Last night’s show went surprisingly well, and it was a great room. There was an actual stage, places to sit, and there was walk-up music which was something new for me. In Boston the only walk up music I get to come out to is some guy in the back of the bar calling me a faggot. Usually it’s my dad.

Anyway, I had a surprisingly solid sleep last night, and hit the town early this morning. I copped a free ticket to Independence Hall, the place where the Declaration of Independence was, well, declared. Immediately I was bukkaked with history.

I showed up to the tour, and the guide was an absolute wildcard.

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This man cared more about U.S. History than I care about myself. I hope my future wife loves me just half as much as this dude loves talking about the Stamp Act. He straight up rambled through the entire tour, and honestly I think at one point he started making up shit. He was pulling obscure dates out his ass like it was nobody’s business. Just a walking AP U.S. History textbook.

I ditched the tour early, because it was literally me, this guy, and a 4th grade class, and I wanted to get out before things got weird. I continued walking around the historical area by myself, and came to one single conclusion: This places fucking adores Benjamin Franklin. He’s their Tom Brady. Every single person, place, and thing here is named after that man. I swear my GPS would say “Walk straight on Benjamin Franklin Parkway, then turn right on Ben Franklin Avenue”. Then I’d have to walk through Ben Franklin park where there were two statues and three murals of that bastard. I would say this place has Ben Franklin fever, but I think that’s just called Syphilis.

Then I hit what I was most excited for, the Rocky Statue. It was like a 45 minute walk, but I made the trip regardless, because that’s how much I wanted to see it, definitely not ironically to make fun of it.

Through back sweat and sore feet, I finally found him

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There he is, the statue of one the biggest sports icons in Philadelphia history, who also just so happened to never exist. Once again, I refuse to make fun of that. I refuse to talk about how if we’re doing statues for fictional characters now, then philly might as well have a Frank Reynolds memorial.

The next task was to get my hands on one of these Philly cheesesteaks. I asked around (google) and the concencus was the two heavy hitters are Geno’s and Pat’s in Little Italy, so I decided to walk on down there, once again, a solid 45 minute trip.

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I was torn on which place to choose, so I do what any kingpin would do and went to both. Going in, I thought that Geno’s would be superior, because Geno sounds sounds like someone who knows his way around meat.

Boy was I wrong. Geno’s STUNK. The WOAT. Which I was really sad about, because they sold clothes and I really wanted a Geno’s Cheesesteak hat, but after eating there I knew I could never wear it truthfully.

Pat’s was good, but honestly not good enough to warrant it’s reputation. I mean I definitely enjoyed it, but this whole facade of Philly being the cheesesteak capital of the world just isn’t true. Maybe it’s just because I went two tourist traps, but with all the art and history shit philly has, I’m not sure why they chose Cheesesteaks as the thing to take pride in.

Then I went and did two shows. The one at Helium went well, and there were randomly like 100 people there. Also it was the first time I got to chill in a green room so that was wild. The second show was a bar show someone invited to do last night, and it brought me right back to earth. 9 people there. Most didn’t even know there was a show. Everyone was watching the Rockets game (including me). Basically everything that I’m used to. Nevertheless, I persisted.

DC in the morning.

XO Tour Life: Philly Day 1

As I’ve probably mentioned (uncomprehendingly mumbled) to you in a bar bathroom at 1am, I’m starting postgrad life with an international stand-up tour (I’m stopping in Canada at one point). I meant to publish all the dates and stuff this weekend, but I accidentally got drunk every day and night for the last four days. I think it’s what the kids call a “bender”?

Anyway, here are the dates for the first leg:

5/7: Philadelphia – Laughs on Philly at Ortlieb’s Lounge

5/8: Philadelphia – Helium Comedy Club (just a showcase I’m not good enough to get booked there)

5/9 – Washington DC – Villain & Saint Music Hall

5/10-5/11 – Washington DC – Underground Comedy at the Big Hunt

5/12-5/13 – Back in Boston if anyone wants to hang out.

5/14 – Toronto – Cameron House Comedy

5/15 – Toronto – Liverpool (Wish it was Weymouth) John’s

5/16 – Toronto – Corktown Comedy

5/17 – Toronto – I forgot to write it down but I hopefully have the email somewhere

5/18 – Chicago – Durkin’s Bar

5/19 – Chicago – Second City (on their like 8th stage)

5/20 – Chicago – The Chicago Rising Star Mic at Davenport’s Piano Bar

5/21 – Cleveland (gross) – Accidental Comedy

5/22 – Pittsburgh –  I think? The booker hasn’t answered my email yet so idk.

 

Anyway, I’m writing this in a Starbucks in Philly all by myself, and it’s already been a hell of a day. I arrived here via the most inconvenient way possible, which was two different Peter Pan Buses. I took one from South Station to NYC. Then one from NYC to Philly, and let’s just say I’m now immune to the smell of human urine. I’m not saying I enjoy it, necessarily, but it’s something I’m okay with. I had a row to myself on the first bus, which is always nice, but I felt like I was on the Amistad on the second bus. Needless to say my dancer legs suffered tragically.

The only positive was that I though of a fun, lighthearted joke about how Peter Pan is a perfect name for that bus because the suicidal thoughts it gives me in traffic make me never want to grow up.

Regardless, I arrived in Philly and checked into the hostel that I booked (this is quite the big budget trip). I was a bit worried about staying in a hostel in Philly, because I was nervous I’d have to go little spoon with a homeless man or something, but it ended up being one of those hippie hostels where everyone is free spirits and shit like that. Not my scene, but neither is being raped. Lesser of the two evils, I guess. The only issue is you have to take your shoes off inside the hostel, and obviously I have a huge hole in one of my socks.

I checked in, and then decided to do some site seeing. I didn’t get here til like 4, and a lot of the museums were closed, so the only thing I’ve seen so far is the Liberty Bell.

I walked in the door and had a lot of trouble getting through security. Then again, I watch the news, so I know how many red flags go off when a white kid deep in his own head walks in somewhere by himself with a backpack. I honestly respect their thoroughness. Also it was mostly because I forgot to take my belt off when I went through the medal detector. It was with good reason though. The waist on my pants is way too big on me, and with an entire middle school class behind me, I didn’t want to risk a Janet Jackson situation and expose myself.

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First off, how about this softie park ranger needing his own padded place mat to stand. That’s something you’d never see in Boston. I’m not saying he’s an embarrassment to the entire city of Philadelphia, but he’s not helping their case.

Obviously had to take this uncomfortably close selfie:

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The fun part about the Liberty Bell is that it has the only crack in Philadelphia that you can’t smoke.

So now I’m in Starbucks with a really sweaty back googling bars I watch the Celtics game by myself at. If anyone knows any places let me know. Preferably somewhere dark and sad. I’m also on the lookout for Meek Mill, and I get really excited whenever I see a black guy.

I got a thiccc day of sightseeing tomorrow, so I’ll write a full Philly recap then where I definitely won’t make fun of Philadelphia for having a statue built for a fictional athlete. I’m not even going to touch upon how embarrassing of a subject that is.

Can I say the N word?

Look, obviously it’s a taboo subject to talk about, but I just want to know. Can I?

At this point, it’s been an internal debate I’ve had looming in my thoughts for years now. Can I say it? The N word. I mean what’s the big deal? It’s just a word. A word no different than I don’t know…..

Photograph?

Every time the debate comes up I just don’t know what side to take. Obviously the N word isn’t the nicest thing to say. Sure, they’ve suffered through years of of prejudice. Yea, plenty of people still openly hate them as humans, but I don’t, so why can’t I say it? I love n words. Yes I know they all have their own names, but it’s easier to just call the collective group the N word. And while I don’t know any of them personally, I bet if we met and hung out we’d definitely get along.

I do think I have some say in whether or not I can say it. It’s just one of those words that feels good to say. It just comes off the lips nicely. It’s naturally crisp. And it’s not like I’m saying it out of anger. I would never use it in a derogatory manner. I never intend to hurt anyone with the word. So what’s the big deal?

It makes me laugh that this is still such a touchy subject. Sure, a lot of people really don’t like them, and yea I’ll admit it took me a while to give the N word as a group a chance, but I’m glad I did, and I think I should be rewarded.  one of the most prominent arguments around saying the  N word is their music. And although I understand that a large majority of people don’t respect their music as art, there are plenty of individuals who truly identify with the messages behind the N word’s lyrics. So, me, being one of those people, why can’t I say it?

But you know what? Fuck it. I’m going to say it:

Nickelback.

There I said it. Nickelback. Nickelback Nickelback. I like Nickelback.

Actually no, that didn’t feel right to say.

Also look back at the first few words or so of the first six paragraphs. Yea I know the photograph part was a bit cheap, but have you ever tried to start a paragraph with “photograph”?

And by the way, what the hell is on Joey’s head?

PS: I really hope people read this all the way through to the punchline of this or else, well actually I’ll probably get published on Breitbart.

“Omg did you see how he used simple misdirection to make a joke that also hinted at an underlying message concerning how problematic it is to simply replace a terrible slur with it’s first letter and think that the problem will go away? Or how he used basic wordplay to prove that words are simply linguistic vehicles used to portray meaning and emotion, and that the physical structure of the word doesn’t change what’s behind it?” – Every hot girl to their friend group group chat, as they throw their underwear in the dryer, probably.

 

 

Does Earth really deserve it’s own holiday?

Yesterday was Earth day, and honestly, why? Earth gets a lot of hype these days, and I feel like much of it is undeserved. I mean is Earth really that spectacular? Sure, Earth is decent. It’s sufficient. It does the trick. But I’m not sure it’s resume truly adds up to holiday status. Is Earth really that special of a place? There’s a universe beyond us that travels outwards infinitely. Earth can’t be the best it gets, can it?

I mean think about it. First off, Earth is full of billions of people, almost all of which you don’t like, a few you can tolerate, and several you actually enjoy. And even the people you like still suck. They’re still late all the time. They still don’t split ubers. And even if you did find compatibility with the entire human race, still, you can only communicate with an acute fraction of the population. And let’s face it, there’s no one on Earth that’s interesting enough that being able to converse with them is worth the $59.99 payment for Rosetta Stone.

And think of the other planets. Mars is pretty dope. We could build some townhouses there. Yea Saturn’s ring is a little queer, but we could gentrify it with a couple fro-yo stores. And can you imagine how much parking there would be on Jupiter? Think about how few cargo shorts there are in Venus? Doesn’t that alone make it worth the trip?

If you think about it, our planet is just a speck of dust, suspended in nothingness, who relies on a massive, deadly star that will eventually become the source of it’s demise, just to stay warm. Does that really deserve a holiday? Also it has a ton of mosquitos.

I mean, I guess there are a few cases to be made about how Earth is cool. Sure, I guess Earth is a place that’s so full of incomprehensible beauty, that our only explanation for it’s vastness is a godly figure in the sky. A sphere so perfect that our fear of departing has driven us to create religions just to convince ourselves that maybe there’s something better. A star so superior, that our only threat to our own humanity is ourselves.

Yea, it’s sort of dope how despite our existence as humans only spanning .13% of the planet’s entire existence, that of which you individually experienced basically none of, you’ve still lived through more emotion than you could ever comprehend. Every failure and success, every love and hatred, every single feeling you’ve ever felt has all happened under this one small roof. Yea sure, every person, place or thing you’ll ever come in contact with is aggregated in this tiny sphere, that despite how small it is compared to the rest of everything, we’ll consider ourselves lucky to see a fraction of it.

Yea sure, I guess it’s worth noting how we rely on Earth’s resources so heavily, while taking it for granted so severely, that the only human figure worthy of it’s anthropomorphization is our collective mothers. And even with that, at least mother Earth doesn’t yell at me for not putting my laundry away.

But yea, besides that, I can’t really come up with a good pro-earth argument. Still doesn’t change the fact that I have to wear a fucking coat outside today despite it being mid-April. Also mosquitos are really annoying.  Drill baby, drill.

 

I signed up for Rover (as a dog)

With graduation rapidly approaching, I’ll soon be entering the real world, and should probably start making some money so one day I can save enough to buy a house I’ll eventually die in, raise kids who will inevitably resent me, and live a long life with a wife who will spend most of her time day dreaming about how she probably should have just stuck it out with her college boyfriend. Man I can’t wait to grow up. So with that, I decided to sign up for Rover, the app where people hire you to babysit dogs.

When I got to the site, I navigated through, and ended up scrolling through all of the current dog sitters already in the program. That’s when the epiphany struck. As I shuffled through all of the users in the Boston area, I quickly realized the majority of them were young, attractive, college girls. While most would see this as stiff competition, I saw endless opportunity.

That’s when it hit me. What if I registered myself as a dog in need of babysitting as a way to meet girls? Think about it, dog watching is quite similar to dating. We can go on walks together, you can rub my back, and I can shit in your backyard. It almost seemed too good to be true. So I got to work on making a profile. I made up a fake alias as a young, handsome but doesn’t know it, tech genius, Billy Randall. I fabricated an elaborate story about how I needed a dog sitter so I could meet up with my boss, Bernie, for the weekend, and pretend that he’s alive while my co-worker and I attempt to turn his original plan against him.

I then got to work on filling out the profile for my dog, Tim.

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I wasn’t sure what to put for a breed, so I decided to choose the two the described me best. Naturally I chose American Bully because, well look at me, I’m a beast. I also went with Labradoodle because I’m absolutely adorable.

Then it was time go answer a few multiple choice questions. I was able to explain my answers after, but the way the site was set up, I couldn’t figure out how to screen shot them, so I’ll just past the text below the picture.

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Tim isn’t spayed, traditionally speaking, but he got hit in the nuts a lot in middle school, so I doubt he’ll be able to reproduce. In terms of microchipping, Facebook does that for us. Lastly, in regards to getting along with dogs, Tim is a huge guy’s guy. He’s always down to chill with the boys, makes sick movie references, but also knows when it’s time to get down to business.

So far so good. Not only was I successfully passing as a real dog, but in the process, I was letting all my potential dog sitters how chill I was.

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Then there was some more info I had to fill out:

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So yea, if any girls want to walk me around on a leash this weekend get in touch with my owner. Or my Instagram DM’s.

 

Kanye and I use Twitter quite differently

Yeezy has resurfaced on Twitter, and my goodness that man is back on his bullshit. Behind DT45, Kanye tweets are probably the most volatile in the world, and by volatile, I mean they’re absolute gibberish. Granted, Ye’s tweets don’t put a country on the edge of a nuclear war, but don’t tell him that because he’ll strongly disagree.

Twitter has a variety of uses, and I’d say me and Mr. West are on completely different ends of the spectrum (not that spectrum, but maybe). For two people who publish stuff on the same app, it comes off as very different content. Example:

 

Clearly Yeezus and I have vastly different thoughts we find worthy of posting on the internet. But that doesn’t mean I can’t relate to him. We’re both artists. We both wild out. He exposed George Bush for not caring about black people on camera, I revealed that Weymouth John was a gay prostitute. We both got in a little bit of trouble. The only difference is, unlike The King of the South Shore, G-Dubs doesn’t have his mom to protect him anymore.

So I decided to take a look at some of Kanye’s recent tweets, and tried to relate to them the best I could:

If I’m not mistaken, pain and happiness are two dimensions. Actually they’re definitely not dimensions at all. Also that’s definitely not how you spell “dimensional”. And “taste, touch, and sound”? That’s not a love story that’s porn.

“This life. This is the greatest movie we will ever see.” Apparently Kanye has never seen Annie Hall. I don’t know about you, Yeezy, but if my life was a movie script, I don’t see any major studios optioning it anytime soon. That’s not making past the mail room at Warner Brothers. My life is at best a CW Sunday double feature. (I’m 10 years too young for that reference). Maybe a Lifetime movie, but that’s being generous.

By the looks of the grammar, I’m gonna go against you on this one, and say that it might not be a bad idea to invest in a publisher. Maybe let someone else write the book entirely.

Yeezus, I’m not here to call you a hypocrite, but for someone who doesn’t believe in the concept of enemies, you’ve used the term “hater” excessively in your music. Also “moving in love” sounds like a euphemism for masturbating.

Fuck that. If you don’t wake up and immediately scroll through every social media app while contemplating whether it’s worth it to even go outside today, I don’t want to associate with you.

Tell that to the bartender the next time my card gets declined.

Ye also ran by a couple product ideas:

https://twitter.com/kanyewest/status/985700665648394240

Kanye, do you work at REI?

He also has some tattoo ideas:

https://twitter.com/kanyewest/status/985680838061887488

Did Michael J Fox draw that by hand?

https://twitter.com/kanyewest/status/985696164619214848

I’m 90% sure Kanye West is designing his tattoos on Microsoft WordArt. It looks like he just played Russian Roulette with the font scroll bar on Word.

So I guess me and Yeezus are sort of different.

PS:

  1. Graduation
  2. The College Dropout
  3. Late Registration
  4. MBDTF
  5. Life of Pablo
  6. Yeezus
  7. 808’s