Resident Moron

Bringing it.

The Stripper Chronicles

In the Sex-for-Money System, the people are represented by two separate, yet equally important groups. The professionals who exploit their sexuality, and the curious observers who appreciate the offenders. This is my tweet journey.

Bro: Come for a drive? “No.” Bro: Please? This girl likes me, I don’t want to meet her alone! “Wait, is she a stripper?” Bro: Yes. “I’m in.” 

No seriously guys, she’s a stripper. I’ve met her. 

Oh my goodness, it gets better. We’re picking the stripper up from her place of employment, Bare Fax. 

My brother actually just compared being a stripper to being a hairdresser in a barber shop. 

I’ve got “in love with a stripper” stuck in my head. 

Is it fair at all that the stripper gets the seat warmer?? 

Wow, strippers give really long hugs. 

We’re talking about job pay. Stripper wins? 

She has such little hands. 

Stripper just offered me $40 to hang at a bar so she gets alone-time with my brother. So many mixed emotions. 

My brother just told his barbershop analogy to the stripper. And she just winked at me. 

So, she wears a perfume endorsed by Tila Tequila. It’s all coming together. 

Am I surprised that the stripper is a consumer whore? 

Brother just asked Stripper if she lives at the 7/11. Love the brother now. 

Think strippers feel like celebrities when they’re recognized on the street? 

She’s addicted to “money.” *sniff, sniff* 

Should have jumped on that $40 offer. Carsick. 

Stripper is a tea-drinker because it’s good for you. Okay wait, she qualified it with “keeps you skinny.” 

Holy shit. Holy shit. 

First: stripper offered me her roommate to fuck. He’s gorgeous. Which is why she dated him. Oh, and he has a big cock too. And THEN 

And THEN she turns to my brother and says “Oh, not bigger than yours.” BaRF BARF!!! There goes that carsick. 

AND the coffee guy overheard it all. And I’m dying of horse allergies. Stripper bought me a tea. 

Did I mention she told me I’m hot and should be a stripper? SO many mixed emotions. Man I love you guys. 

I want all of you to know that I let a $40 offer disappear so I could tweet about everything Stripper said. Love me, love me. 

I smell like stripper, I’m going to barf up all my Chinese food in a coffee shop restroom, and I look like Quasimodo from horse allergies.

No, I CAN’T barf in the coffee shop restroom. There’s a couple getting busy in there. Normally, big whoop, but it’s single-stall. 

She makes $300-500 a night. I’m not supposed to tell, in case everyone runs out to become a stripper. Hell…sign me up. 

We just looked at penises online together, she and I. 

This is so romantic. The stripper professed her love for my brother, and he’s recounting the first time he laid eyes on her. JUST EYES. 

Update: that couple is still in the bathroom. I know this because I still feel barfy. 

Ugh. Tried to take a picture of their loving stare; choked on tea; drew attention to self. Dagnabbit. 

Stripper: that beeping means put on your seat belt!! 

She has a pole in her apartment. OMFG! New BFF!! 

Stripper tried to pass off a Cartman quote as her own. Foiled! I am the South Park Hero! (@TheCartman) 

I was going to send @shamelessplug a *stripper kiss* but, who am I joking, working gals don’t kiss. #prettywoman 

Whew. The sticky adventures have concluded for the evening. Stripper is tucked safely in…well, someone’s bed, and I did not barf. 

*****

I finally found a cure for writer’s block, and it was chock-full of dolla dolla bills!!

CAUTION: I spent the rest of that night barfing. Strippers are people too, and karma’s a bitch.

January 6, 2009 Posted by | Funny, Writing | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

The Stars Are Aligned

Who doesn’t love when the universe sends you a shout-out? “Sorry for the undeserved bad karma lately, and, oh yeah, please accept this peace offering.”

I usually have a dentist check-up once a year in December. However, today – the day my bottom wire breaks off, the first problem since it was put on 8 years ago – my dentist’s office magically calls to book an appointment. Magnificent.

Before an unreliable guy had a chance to break plans with me tonight, I forgot about them and instead booked a night out with someone I like better. I will have fun instead of being disappointed or bored.

I actually felt like going to the gym and sweating. And since the perviest person who hit on me there was about 50 and foreign, I was able to laugh it off.

The hot water worked.

I like a day that goes my way.

P.S. Don’t forget to vote tomorrow, America!

November 3, 2008 Posted by | Writing | , | Leave a comment

‘Tropic Thunder’ Movie Review

Warnings left and right. “This movie offends.” “This movie sucks.” “Don’t bother.” “It’s…funny, yeah.” “Retard bashers.”

So, I was bored today, and I planned on catching a different movie. However, my favourite movie-going buddy was sick and my car was written off in the accident, so I had to catch a ride from my dad, who is pathologically late. I was late for my movie. 1-0 for Loner Karma.

The only choice left was Tropic Thunder, and I figured the cast alone warrants giving it a chance. When I purchased my ticket at the automated thingamajig, a free ticket for the movie I initially intended to see also came out. SWEET! But, I had no one to give it to, and scalping it would make me late for this movie, as well. Touché, Loner Karma, and pretty bitchy. 2-0.

Anyhow, I’m glad I saw it. Mother Nature isn’t the only one who pissed herself.

A few genius comedic stunts include the following (minor spoilers ahead, skip past list to avoid):

1. The opening of the movie, so seamless that you believe you are still watching theatre previews. Booty Sweat, Bust-a-Nut energy drinks…need I say more? (see bottom of post)

2. The director steps on a land mine and explodes (“pink mist,” for those who watch Grey’s Anatomy). A gang of hardcore, heavily armed drug lords are in the woods watching Ben Stiller lead his movie cast army. Ben Stiller thinks this is all a funny trick, and picks up the director’s head, shakes it around a little, pulls out some of the insides and licks them. Sticks the head on his gun. Yells some dumb shit. Kicks the head away: “I’m David Beckham!” The head drug lord fella says, bewildered, “These men do not fear death.”

3. Jack Black in his heroin addiction/withdrawal scene. YES. Gold.

4. Ben Stiller with his “son” on his back running from drug lords opening fire on his ass. He yells “I was wrong!” and turns, and his “son” is stabbing him over and over in the shoulder. He chucks the little man, and like a starfish, he spins over the bridge. Reminiscent of the burrito-dog encounter on the bridge in Anchorman. :)

5. The repetition of “You’ve got hands?!” as the characters meet up again in their escape from the jungle.

Some of the other gems (“What do you mean ‘you people’?” “…What do you mean YOU people?”) can be seen in the movie trailer at its official website here.

Okay, so there was a tad too much emphasis on the “retard” role and jokes, and most were not very funny and at least mildly offensive, but I had to giggle when Ben Stiller says, “There were some times where I actually felt like I was…retarded.” So very Zoolander of you!

So, there’s my two cents. Liked it, don’t think I’ll watch it again, might quote it sometime.

September 13, 2008 Posted by | Movies, Writing | , , , | 2 Comments

   

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