The Legend of Dino-Breast: The Largest Fried Chicken Breast...EVER

As you may or may not know, I have been buying boxes of frozen fried chicken from the liquor store across the street for quiet some time. Well the last time I purchased a box of fried chicken was about two weeks ago. Each box has about 6-8 random pieces. Well I ate the first six pieces of this most recent box and left the other two.

Fast forward to this past Friday. I was starving and felt like some chicken, so I figured that I would just polish off the last two pieces in the box. I pulled out one piece and was pleased to see a thigh, my favorite piece from the chicken. I'm all about the dark meat. Upon reaching back into the box for the other piece, I felt an unusually large mass. Without having seen the piece of chicken, I figured that the chicken had accumulated a big ass chunk of that icy shit that develops when food gets freezer burned. I tried to pull the chicken out to assess the damage of the freezer burn and make a decision as to whether or not I was going to eat the chicken. Only thing is, I had some trouble lifting the piece. It was heavy as fuck. I had to get my back into it. After considerable effort, I got the piece out. It was a breast, but not just any breast, it was the biggest fucking chicken breast ever. I swear to you, this thing was about the size of a football. Everyone knows that birds evolved from dinosaurs. This had to be a breast from some missing link between chickens and dinosaurs. It was the Dino-breast.

I was in awe. I love chicken, but I was torn as to whether or not I should eat Dino-breast. Should I save it and donate it to science? Should I keep it and make myself a fortune by going on tour with it, showing it off at county fairs and late night talk shows? It was a lot of responsibility at a time when I was really just trying to eat before I start to drink and go out. Seeing as I was trying to get intox, I decided to sleep on it and come to a decision in the morning. While I was out drinking at my local bar, I couldn't stop thinking about the giant chicken breast. It was consuming my entire night. When the bar closed, I was pretty drunk, but I was free to be with Dino-breast and think of things to do with it.

Me and my roommates stumbled into the apartment and I ran straight to the kitchen to see my prehistoric poultry. As soon as I grabbed the Dino-breast, the drunk munchies kicked in. My judgment became clear and I made a decision on the fate of Dino-breast. I was going to eat it. It would be exploitative and selfish of me to make money off Dino-breast, and donating it to science is something that a fucking nerd would do. Fuck that, I was going to eat it and take it's power and use that power to enhance my own legendary status. I took the Dino-breast and put it in the microwave. I set the microwave to 15 minutes on the "High" setting. It was going to take a lot to warm this fucker up, plus I needed time to catch my breath because lifting it and carrying it to the microwave took a lot out of me. If you think it's because I'm out of shape, then fuck you. That shit was heavy.

As I was about to take the Dino-breast out of the microwave, my female roommate walked in. Like most girls, she's all particular about what she eats and believes in fake ailments that you get from eating old food, like salmonella. She told me not to eat the chicken because it had been in the fridge forever. I ignored her because she doesn't know shit and I began to eat the Dino-breast.

(Before I go on, I have to assure you that the rest of this story is entirely true. All of this shit happened for real. Back to the story.)

Out of concern for my health, she ran over and grabbed the Dino-breast off my plate. I immediately charged toward her to get my chicken back. I stumbled into her and she grabbed me and we both fell to the floor. We rolled around fighting over the chicken like in the movies when they roll around fighting over a gun. I wrestled it away from her and began to munch on it. It was so delicious, but my pleasure was short lived. She grabbed the chicken from me again, but this time she threw the Dino-breast out the kitchen window. Keep in mind that I live on the second floor of an apartment in San Francisco. I ran downstairs with a flashlight to see if I could find the Dino-breast, but it was gone.

Just like that, a potentially life changing piece of chicken was gone. I get teary eyed when I think about how some shitty rat or crusty hobo ate my Dino-breast. Losing the Dino-breast was devastating, but like they say, it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

Endless Courage: The Tale of Dmitri Young

Dmitri Young is now the All-Star 1st baseman for the Washington Nationals, however the road to stardom for Dmitri has been long and hard, like a Peter North erection.

Dmitri Young was an All-America at Rio Mesa High School in Oxnard, California. He was drafted in 1991 by the St. Louis Cardinals. He was expected to quickly work his way to the major leagues, but his minor league stint was longer than expected.

Dmitri made his Major League debut with the St. Louis Cardinals in 1996.
After one full season with the Cardinals, Young was traded to the Cincinnati Reds. Young began to make a name for himself in Cincinnati, batting over .300 in his four seasons with the Reds.

Before the 2002 season, Young was traded to the Detroit Tigers, where he would become a fan favorite. Fans called Young "D'Meathook". He even made the All-Star game in 2003. Dmitri was riding high. He had finally arrived.

Enter 2006. '06 was a rough year for Dmitri. He struggled with alcoholism, was released by the Detroit Tigers and was diagnosed with Diabetes. With his career seemingly over, Dmitri could have just given up, but Dmitri is an alcoholic, he doesn't know how to quit. Dmitri Young would go on to tryout for the Washington Nationals and earned starting 1st baseman job. Young went on to become the Nationals only representative at the 2007 All-Star Game.

Dmitri Young's courage is an inspiration to people from all walks of life, the epitome of the American success story. Here's to you Dmitri Young.

Dom, Where Are You? I Miss You Sunna...

This post is a cry out to my good friend and HW&B reader Dominic. I never hear from him anymore and I worry sometimes. This is my open letter to Dom.

Dear Dom,

Where are you old friend? I saw that your facebook profile says you live in Manhattan Beach now? How is it?

I also noticed in some of your pictures that someone sucker punched you something serious. Jesus H. Christ, you really got molly-whopped. That looks more like you got kicked by a mule than sucker punched. I'd love to hear the story, I'm sure it's a good one. If I was with you, I would have beat that motherfucker like Jose Offerman beat up that one pitcher who beaned him.

How come I never hear from you? Is it because I never wrote that post about Dmitri Young? I am seriously about to write it right now.

Do you remember the time we went to that boring Jack Johnson concert and the best part was when security electrocuted that guy with a tazer-gun? That was awesome huh?
Or when we created our own college called "Tender State" in NCAA Football 2003? That was one hell of a team.

I admire the fact that you have four of those sweet New Era baseball caps with the black on the bottom of the brim. I admire you for having courageously kissed Lawrence Jackson's girlfriend a number of times.Lawrence Jackson

Dom, if you ever get a chance to read this, please give me a sign...or a text message or something. See ya buddy.

-Julien

Well that's my letter to Dom. If you think that way homo-erotic, then fuck you. You clearly don't understand friendship.

I'm Back!

I know I haven't posted in over a month, but I was on vacation in Cancun and L.A., so I didn't get around to posting. Rest assured that I am back with a vengeance and you can expect to see daily posts. I am going to post at least two more times today, so check back periodically.

I Am Photogenic

So I was just glancing over my pictures on facebook (yes I look at pictures of myself, you fuckers do it too) and I realized that I do not look my best in photographs. After a few minutes I saw a recurring theme in a lot of these less than flattering photos, and that theme is drunkenness happiness. Here are some of my finest moments in front of a digital camera:

This is me at one of my local bars in San Francisco. I am clearly hammered and it looks like I am being spanked by the bartender. Her name is Jenny.
This picture was taken on the same night as the previous photo. I am making a really creepy molester face that I cannot explain or defend. That shit is not cool.
This is just bad. I am clearly passing out. If you want an explanation, look no further than the bottle in my hand. That's right, Cisco. What's that? You've never heard of Cisco? Well read this and decide if you're ready to have a bottle or two.
This is a picture of me on New Year's Eve. I know what you're thinking..."Is that the black kid from "Angels In The Outfield?" Well I wasn't going to drop names, but yea that's the great American actor Milton Davis, or "JP" from "Angels In The Outfield". I am a hot mess in this photo. I've got the red face as well as the disheveled look going on. I believe there was champagne in that cup.
This picture was in Las Vegas. I know what it looks like, but that guy is not a sex worker, he is my good friend. Do you think cute Filipino boys just grow on trees in Vegas? OK that was a weird joke...withdrawn. Well anyway, we were loaded and wanted to take a funny picture. I think we succeeded.

Well that wraps up my display of drunken memories. Feel free to send me your own drunk pics and I'll do a post on all the pictures you guys send in.

Bikes Are For Wusses

Since the age of 11, I've hated bicycles. Even when I enjoyed bikes, I was never enamored with the whole idea. I started to detest bikes as I got older because my bike was stolen, so I had to use my little brother's bike. In my neighborhood there were all of these huge ramp-like bumps on the sidewalks that were either from the earthquakes (I'm from L.A.) or tree roots that fucked up the sidewalk. Kids who were skilled with their bikes would always use these bumps as ramps and shit.

Due to the fact that I lacked bike skills and a bike that was more size appropriate, I used to eat shit whenever I'd ride over one of those bumps. I would stand up on the pedals as if I was about to do something sweet but I was never able to get that front tire up and I would hit the bump and go head over handlebars onto the pavement. One day I just got tired of the bullshit and began to hate bikes and any asshole that was older than 14 that would ride one.

Throughout the years I've had more than enough fuel to keep my bike hatred burning strong. Lance Armstrong and the Tour de France were huge sources of inspiration. I was kind of sad when Lance retired because I needed a poster-boy for shitty bike-riders nationwide.

San Francisco has a large population of bike riding dickweeds that have collectively filled the void left by Lance Armstrong. Driving in San Francisco is already a pain in the ass due to lack of parking, hills, and traffic. The people that ride bikes in this town just make things that much more difficult. These fuckers will take up a whole lane at times and then be pissed when you pass them. These people should have to ride on the sidewalk if they are too slow and can't keep up with the flow of traffic. They act like they are driving cars, yet they refuse to stop at stop signs. Next time I'm at a four way stop and one of those bike pedaling hippies doesn't stop, this is what's going down:


That's fucking right! Obey traffic laws, bow down to the superiority of automobiles and get on the fucking sidewalk or...die!

My Trip To Fisherman's Wharf

Today I went on a trip to San Francisco's Fisherman's Wharf. Fisherman's Wharf is this place that is overrun by tourists. It's one of those places in a city that only tourists really go to. The only time I ever go there is to eat In-N-Out because it's the only one in the city.

Today I went because I had to buy one of those "I Heart SF" t-shirts for my cousin. Seeing as I've been starved for posting ideas, I figured I would kill two birds with one stone by mustering up some source material from the wharf. I was armed with a camera and took pictures of all kinds of shit. Fisherman's Wharf has a shitload of those little shops that sell useless shit that only tourists would ever want. Here are some pics of said merchandise.


Look at how stupid this shit is. A bunch of shot glasses with little fake criminals on them. I'm glad none of those little jailbirds were black because we would have had some problems with the storekeeper. I can totally picture some family visiting from somewhere in the mid-west just eating this shit up.


Yea, go for it! Dress your baby up as a convict, but don't be surprised when this becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy and your "Alcatraz Penitentiary Reject" starts holding up pharmacies. Also, way to set the bar nice and high for your child, we all wish our kids can one day be known as "Alcatraz Penitentiary Reject". Fuck any parent that dresses their kid in that bullshit.


If you don't think this is a badass jacket, then fuck you. Of all the things you can buy at the Wharf, this is by far the best. I almost bought this jacket. If I had it last week for the 4th, I would have had a much better day. I'm going to go back and buy that jacket when I'm not so broke.

Fisherman's Wharf also features a wide array of street performers. I got a couple pictures of today's standouts.

So this guy's whole gig was just standing still like that. That was it. I watched him for like five minutes and that's all he did. Sad thing is, he sucks and standing still. He moved like a million times in those five minutes that I spent watching him. Notice the Asian lady in the picture. She was hauling ass to avoid that guy.


This is one of those dudes that paints him self all silver and does the robot while making robot noises. There are like three of these guys on the Wharf. My guess is that this guy wasn't performing because everyone was down the street looking at the old gay magician who plays with the big silver rings.

Another attraction is the open air seafood market. You can just go up to these stands that sell clam chowder, shrimp cocktails, crab and all that shit. Here are some more photos.


This is where they cook the crab. That looks real fuckin' appetizing, don't it? The dude who was working that stand just left it totally abandoned. I could have put my balls in there and no one would have stopped me. What's to stop someone from spitting in that shit while it's unattended. That shit is gross, hell it looks like someone already pissed in there. I half-expected some kind of mini water monster to pop out of that shit, kind of like in that movie "Toys", when that killer water monster tries to kill Robin Williams and LL Cool J.


Here we have some pictures from the wax museum on the Wharf.




First of all, that top one looks nothing like Jackie Chan Yao Ming. Second, that wax statue of Barry Bonds could be better, but they did a perfect job of recreating Barry's super gay ear ring and what years of steroid use have done to the size and curvature of his head.

As you can tell by my collection of pictures, today's visit to Fisherman's Wharf was a devil of a good time.

My Post-4th of July Wrap Up

Alright folks, this is my brief wrap up of the 4th of July, a celebration of everthing that makes America awesome. Great things like baseball, hot dogs, democracy,blow jobs, strippers, breast implants women's suffrage, and Freedom. That's right, I capitalized the "F" in freedom, no typo. Overall, my 4th was bittersweet. I got to see an American kick Kobayashi's ass by eating 66 hot dogs in 12 minutes, but I was in San Francisco. 4th of July in San Fran is weak. They don't even have real fireworks here, I think they light organic corn husks that make little noises that sound like popcorn popping. Pretty wuss.

In any case, I had a nice relaxing day watching TV and doing a whole lot of nothing which was nice. At night I went to this hipster bar that has been described as "The Urban Outfitters of bars in the Mission District," so you could imagine the kind of crowd this place had. It was soul night there, which was funny because I watched a bunch of young white people dancing to soul music for a couple of hours. This was highly ironic to me given that this bar is in the Mission District, an area that was once highly populated by Latinos and Black people but all the hipsters with money moved in and all the non-whites had to move elsewhere. I got kind of drunk and danced a bit and had a good time. Overall, my 4th was satisfying despite the fact that I didn't blow anything up.

Will Ferrell In "Good Cop, Baby Cop"

If you liked "The Landlord", starring Will Ferrell and the adorable Pearl McKay then you're gonna love this.

Americans, Get Pumped!

Here are some of the greatest speeches in American cinematic history. Sure to get you pumped up on this 4th of July.



What the fuck is up with the blue camo in Street Fighter? That shit would never help you unless you were fighting an entire army that was tripping on acid or some shit. Dumb ass Van Damme. WHO WANTS TO GO WITH ME!!! Bad ass...

Happy 4th of July...FUCK YEAH!

Oh man am I psyched. It's 4th of July and I am loving it despite the fact that I'm in San Francisco, which is not the greatest place to celebrate the 4th. If you're like me and get a huge America-boner on the 4th, then here's a list of things that you can do to celebrate freedom, doing it big, and manifest destiny, the things that make America badass.

- Go to In-N-Out or any good burger joint and order a burger with more than 4 patties. Get it to go. When you get home start watching Discovery Channel or anything about third world countries while eating your huge, opulent burger. Be thankful that you are in America, not in some diamond mine, and that America takes everyone else's natural resources.

- Test the limits of your freedom by doing things in the name of America. Drink in public, wear a shirt with foul language on it, or anything else that would be questionable on a different day. If anyone bitches about it, call that asshole a freedom hater.

- Drink a lot of American liquor. Yes you can have Corona and Patron, Mexican liquor is OK due to NAFTA (North American Free Trade Agreement, for you non-educated folk).

- Gather up a group of friends and usurp as many small nations and municipalities as possible. Places like Micronesia and Liechtenstein would be ideal. If you really want to do it big you can take over The Vatican. That place only has like 900 people. Whatever land you choose to take, don't forget to bring an American flag because you're gonna need that shit to look all sweet once you kick the shit out of some small country.

- Aww fuck this, it's your freedom, do what you want. I'm no expert on freedom. Just make sure that whatever you do, do it big. Remember that being American means never having to say you're sorry...for anything. Happy 4th of July.

I Know More Stuff Than Stephen Hawking

I am sorry that I haven't posted in over 2 weeks, but I've been studying a lot. I haven't been studying for my summer school classes or anything like that, I've been studying for a mental challenge. I am preparing to challenge Stephen Hawking to a trivia showdown. For those of you who don't know, Stephen Hawking is this old British guy in a wheelchair who discovered all kinds of shit about black holes. Here's a picture:
He knows a shitload of stuff about outerspace, but I can take him. Whenever I tell people that I'm going to challenge him, they all say shit like "How are you going to beat Stephen Hawking? He's the smartest person man in the world?" or "But Julien, you're a Sociology major, you don't know shit." Yeah, Yeah, I know already. While I may be a huge underdog, many people fail to realize that Stephen Hawking probably doesn't know a whole lot about non-sciency shit. Outerspace and Physics will only be a portion of the trivia. Do you think Stephen Hawking knows anything about sports, pop culture, cooking, or just how to live, period. I would kick his ass in all categories that don't have to do with science, or books that aren't "Hatchet" by Gary Paulsen, I fucking love that book. Do you think Hawking could build tell someone how to make a beer bong like the one pictured below?
FUCK NO. I Win. The categories would include: Sports, Movies, Food, Beer, Black Holes, Science, Music, College Mascots, Sociology, World History, Dinosaurs, and Women. I figure that these are all fair categories becuase they are things that me and Stephen both like. If he doesn't like any of them, he can fuck himself, if he's a genius, he should be able to figure shit out. I will win this thing. I still need to come up with a prize for the winner, but I'd be just fine with being recognized as the guy who is smarter than Stephen Hawking. People will come up to me and be like "Julien, you're so smart that it makes me cry when I read books because I'll never be like you no matter how much I read." I would like that.

Congrats Sir, You Are Past Your Prime

Today I went to the Union Street Festival with my bff (Best Friend Forever, for those of you who are not familiar with internet acronyms) Rob, his girlfriend, and a friend of hers. Union Street festival is this annual event in San Francisco where they close down Union street and fill it with beer gardens, food stands, and a shitload of stands with people who sell useless shit. It's a pretty cool event because there are tons of people drinking and all the bars on Union are packed. As you could imagine, there was a high concentration of off-field talent. However, whenever there are a lot of good looking girls, there are sure to be douchebags in hot pursuit.

The Union Street festival was packed with assholes sporting tribal tattoos, tight designer t-shirts, and sunglasses that only a Persian would think were cool. This is to be expected, so it doesn't phase me, but this time there were a lot of old guys sporting this look. A bunch of old guys who are over the hill. I'm going to break it down for you:

If you have frosted hair and 12 year old grandkids...Congratulations, you are past your prime.

If you have to cancel dates with a 23 year old waitress to make an emergency visit to your chiropractor...Congratulations, you are past your prime.

If you have danced to "This Is Why I'm Hot" in a club or bar while washing down your Centrum pill with a cold one...Congratulations, you are past your prime.

If you can't drink too much because you're taking Flomax to help urinary difficulties such as going often, going urgently, weak stream and frequently waking up at night to go...Congratulations, you are past your prime.

Now I know it sounds like I am being a sourpuss over old "hip" men pulling girls in my age range, but that's not the case. I understand that this is the way it works. Women like to have some level of security in a man, and I cannot offer that, seeing as I eat microwavable fried chicken that I buy from the liquor store across the street. As much as I hate to admit, I know that once I establish myself financially at the age of 49, I'll be in bars trying to pull women half my age. It sounds pretty nasty when you put it that way. Maybe I'll just get to making money sooner.

Julien Went To A Nice Restaurant....I Guess

So I went out to dinner at this "hip" Italian restaurant in the North Beach district of the city. I don't usually go out to those kinds of places unless it's a date, but my good friend Dom was visiting San Francisco, so it wasn't just any other night. Usually I'll just eat Popeye's or some hot-wings because it's cheaper and I like that shit better.

The restaurant was called "Pan De Rei" which I think means "bread of kings" in Italian, but I'm not sure about that. Anyways, this place was pretty good but not fit for a king, this place was too cramped. Kings like space and shit, you know so they can stretch out after eating a turkey leg or whatever. I was with Dom, a couple of his buddies from USC, and a friend of mine from San Francisco who happens to be the sister of one Dom's buddies that is with us, let's call her Rachel.

So we're ordering drinks and enjoying the bread with oil and balsamic vinegar and two of Rachel's friends meet up with us. I'm friends with one of them while the other I've seen around at parties and shit, but I couldn't tell you her name. The girl who I didn't know annoyed me right off the bat as she kept trying to sit in Dom's seat next to me while he was in the bathroom. There were like 3 other open seats. I doubt it was because she thought I was cute because this girl was part Asian or something and I am pretty sure Asian girls are afraid of me. So she settles for the seat across from me and Dom and she starts pouring salt and pepper in the fucking oil and vinegar dish for the bread...WHAT THE FUCK? Shouldn't you have some consideration for the people at this side of the table who might want to take their bread without a shitload of salt and pepper? I just watched in awe as she kept doing it throughout the night, and this wasn't a little bit of salt and pepper, it was a fucking ton. There was more salt and pepper in that little dish than in Queen Elizabeth's panties, if you catch my drift. I just ordered a mojito and got over it. I wasn't in the mood to call anyone out while I was trying to enjoy Dom's company since I hadn't seen him in like 6 months.

After I decided to ignore the annoying girl, I got to looking at the menu and I settled on the squid ink pasta with wine sauce. It sounded good to me. At this point I am really enjoying myself despite the salt and pepper girl. When they served us our food, I was surprised to see that the pasta was black. People were like "haven't you seen squid ink pasta?" No, I have not, I'm not a worldly guy. I mostly eat different kinds of chicken for dinner, and when I want to treat myself I drive 15 minutes to the Mission district for carne asada tacos, so anything with marine cephalapod discharge is new to me. Well the pasta was delicious. It came with a shitload of seafood in there, clams and all that good shit. While my tasty food, I also noticed the amount of off-field talent (girls) in the restaurant. A lot of good looking girls were in there, patrons and waitresses alike. I was having a great time.

Between the good food and the abundance of good looking girls, I began to think that I should go to places like this more often. This all ended when this douchebag waiter who was pretending to be Italian starts yelling to get everyone's attention. What the fuck did this guy have to say that was so important that everyone paying $19 for glorified Chef Boyardee needed to hear it? It was someone's birthday. It was some girl in the restaurant's 23rd birthday. Yippeee! The fake Italian insisted that everyone sing happy birthday, which only pissed me off further. I would gladly sing for a little kid or a 21st birthday, but 23? C'mon! If there was any consolation prize, the girl had pretty nice boobs, so when she stood up during the birthday song to accept her Tiramisu, I just didn't sing and looked at her boobs. Don't even think about calling me a jerk, she was wearing a very low cut top. She wants people to look at that shit. Well anyway, I guess it's just going to be Popeye's from now on, unless I'm on a date or decide that I want to spend $30 on some pretty good pasta and a mojito that is just a shitload of lime juice and mint leaves with less than a shot of Rum. Yea that sounds tremendous.

10 Reasons Why I Love America So Much

I fucking love America. I love America so much for more reasons than I can count, so I decided on ten good ones. These aren't the 10 biggest reasons for me loving America, just 10 that I thought about just now. Let's do this shit.

10. Being an American means that I can go to any foreign country and take a dump in the bathroom of just about any store and not have to buy anything.

9. America has it's own Superhero, Captain America. What other country has a superhero named after it? Could you imagine a "Captain France"? That shit would be weak, he would go around smoking cigs,eating crepes and just be a total pussy. Not like Captain America.

8. You can eat a breakfast burrito to start the day, In-N-Out (or some other delicious burger) for lunch, and Sushi or some other fantastic foreign food for dinner. You can't do that in any other country.

7. Buffalo Wings.

6. American Football. No other country really plays it (sorry Canada), and I totally understand why. Would any other country let their kids take part in this kind of sport: Yea I don't think football is going to catch on anywhere else, and that's just the way I like it.

5. Having Mexico to the south is awesome. It's like if you could have unprotected sex using someone else's genitalia. That way you could have sex with as many questionable people as you want without getting AIDS or anything. No consequences. That's what going to Mexico is like. Mexico is using someone else's shlong.

4. No other country could spawn two religions that are undeniable and complete horse shit, Mormonism and Scientology. Dudes just made both religions up. While I don't support either faith and the bullshit that comes from them i.e. those Mormon dudes on the bikes and the movie "Battlefield Earth", I admire the American brand of freedom that allows you to invent a religion but doesn't allow butt sex in some states. Does any of it make sense? Fuck no it doesn't.

3. R. Kelly. He couldn't get away with this shit anywhere else.

2. No other country has the stones to make the movie "Baby Geniuses".

1. This video captures just about everything I love about America in just over 2 minutes. Fuck Yeah.

R. Kelly Is On Fire

As you should know by know if you follow this blog at all, R. Kelly's new album "Double Up" was released on Tuesday. R. Kelly has taken the youtube route to promote this album. Here is a commercial for the album.
Is it just me or did he forget about "Piss on You"? You would think that such a powerful commercial, coupled with the lead single "I'm A Flirt" would be more than enough promotion for the album. Think again. Robert Sylvester Kelly is also posting short videos of himself doing regular things like eating cookies. That wasn't a joke, he actually posted a video of himself eating a cookie and talking about how good it is. See for yourself:
You have got to be fucking with me. What the fuck was that? How is this supposed to make people excited about the album? He has to know something we don't because I refuse to believe that he can be that stupid naturally. I just won't accept that.

So I Like Rick Astley. What of it?

Rick Astley is a badass. Rick Astley sings badass songs like "Never Gonna Give You Up" and "Together Forever". Oh, you haven't heard any of his songs? Well here's the video for "Never Gonna Give You Up".

Oh what's that? That video was gay? No, no it was not. OK so that one effeminate black bartender was a bit iffy, but that song is fucking tremendous. I mean, they did their best to make Rick Astley look like a pussy in this video but to no avail, his manful power comes through in his voice. His manfulness also shows in his lack of dancing skills. He does the same goofy move throughout the entire video. Am I saying that it is unmanly to be able to dance well? Not at all. I am saying that it can be unmanly for a white guy to dance too well and as you can see, Rick does not have this problem. Fuck the dancing, the song is badass and I have little respect for any so-called man who can't appreciate the musical styling of Rick Astley. Anyways, all I'm trying to say is that I love Rick Astley's music. I sing the shit out of his songs when I do karaoke. Fuck songs like "Don't Stop Believing" and "Paradise City", Rick Astley is what's up at the karaoke bars. He has a powerful voice that one would never expect to come from a white Brit, this makes Rick legendary in my book.

No, You Can't Fucking Play! Wait Your Fucking Turn!

You know what drives me up the fucking wall? I'll tell you. It really chaps my ass when I'm at a bar playing pool or waiting to play and a drunk girl or two stumble in and say, "Heyyyy can we play?" Well yes you can play, after you wait your fucking turn. Why is it that this kind of drunk girl can't understand that other people are waiting to play? Last night I watched this happen and it was killing me. I've seen it way too many times. Whenever someone tells them that they can't play, they always get all whiny and ask if they can shoot for you.

Last night some dude allowed the drunk girl to play for him. I wanted to beat the shit out of this guy for 3 reasons: #1 you don't let stupid drunk girls fuck up the line and piss off those who are waiting. It's inconsiderate. #2 You can't let her play or cut even if you are flirting with her because it only encourages this kind of behavior, plus you're not going to get any tang from her because you let her play pool. #3 This girl was ass ugly and this dude was just douchy in general. This also reminds me of all the girls who wanted free keg cups for beer at parties that me and my roommates used to throw. Random girls who I didn't know would always ask for a free cup. I would tell them shit like "Why the fuck would I give you a free cup? I don't even know you. I just charged my Mom for a keg cup, so you can forget about a free one." Some people just don't understand.

Music Review: R. Kelly's "Double Up"

The time has come. I have finally gotten to hear the legendary album that has been the subject of much speculation in two previous posts. That album is "Double Up" by the legendary R. Kelly. This album does not disappoint. "Double Up" is hysterical from beginning to end. If you enjoyed "Trapped In The Closet" then you're in for a treat because Kells only upped the ante for this album. The lyrics on this album are fucking ridiculous. You can't help but to laugh out loud at almost all of the lyrics. It makes me wonder if R. Kelly is a complete idiot or if he is just one step ahead of us. Sometimes I think it's a little bit of both.

The highlights of the album include, "Leave Your Name", "The Zoo", "Real Talk" and "Sex Planet". "Leave Your Name" is a song that is pretty much about how much R. Kelly drinks. He talks about how he gets so "blasted off that Hennessey" that he can't even answer the phone. Here's the chorus:

"Leave your name right after the beep and I'm sure to get back with you if I'm not asleep or smokin' on some trees or having a little sex or if I'm not faded or making a baby"

Pretty direct. R. Kelly doesn't answer the phone if he's sleeping, smoking marijuana, drunk, and having sex to conceive or otherwise.

"The Zoo" is a track about having passionate sex like the animals do. The highlight of this song has to be the monkey and elephant sounds in the chorus, along with this gem of a line:

"I got you so wet, it's like a rain forest, like Jurassic Park, except I'm your Sexasaurus."

"Real Talk" is just this song where he's having an intense argument with his significant other and he gets really pissed off and says things like this:

"The next time your ass get horny, go fuck one of your funky ass friends. Hell you're probably doing that shit anyway."

He then packs up his shit and someone named Milton drives him home.

"Hook It Up" is actually a cool song without any ridiculous lyrics. It's going to be one of the big hits of this summer off the strength of an infectious chorus and a pretty strong beat by Kanye West.

This album is highly entertaining. Is it good music? Hell no, but it's still a devil of a good time. "Double Up" is a roller coaster of an album that will make you laugh, cry, scratch your head, and feel like someone pissed in your ears all at the same time. I highly recommend it.

I'm Back/A College Graduate

Alright, I know I've been slacking on the blog as of late, but I had finals and shit so quit bitching. I was kind of busy and then I graduated, which was pretty cool. I still have 12 credits to complete this summer, but it's pretty cool to have gotten the graduation experience out of the way and now I can take these 12 credits and be done with everything as opposed to waiting till Fall graduation for my ceremony.

Graduation was this past Friday. I had to be at school at about 11:15 for the 12:00 PM ceremony. It was total bullshit because all I did during that time was put on the funny part of my gown that I couldn't figure out. The 45 minutes were spent talking to my life partner/roommate, Rob, about how we should have brought beer to the atrium before we had to go in the church for the ceremony. I'm sure someone would have bitched about it, but I saw some girls drinking champagne, so I would have made a huge scene if anyone bitched at me without calling out the girls with the cheap champagne. While observing the girls who were pissing me off by doing what I wished I had done, I also noticed some highly decorated graduates. Some had a bunch of shit draped on them to commemorate all of the hard work (ass kissing) they did during their college careers. I had nothing. Rob didn't either, so I felt better about myself. However, I did find out that I could have gotten a poncho-looking thing for being Latino, as well as a green ribbon for being a sociology major.

After the 45 minutes passed, it was time for the big show. The speaker was alright, our valedictorian was the shortstop on the baseball team and he gave one of the most awful speeches I've ever heard. The only speech I've seen in person that irked me more was when I was at this funeral and a step-son gave a really half-assed speech about his stepmother who had passed. That doesn't put our valedictorian in great company as you would imagine. Everything that happened between walking into the church and me getting my empty diploma cover was boring except for the part when the speaker said "Jew" three times in like a minute and I wanted to laugh real badly. He just kept saying it and it had nothing to do with the graduation, USF is a Jesuit school. Anyway, when they were calling out people's names, they had us line up and right before taking the stage you take a couple of pictures in front of a backdrop and then you shake hands with Father Privett, the president of the University, and grab your diploma cover. Here are the pictures I took:

OK, so this is a typical goofy smile that I crack from time to time, accompanied with my trademark backward lean. I don't know why I take pictures like this other than the fact that I'll take goofy/joker look over the potential disaster of being caught in a weird looking face during a picture that will be seen for a long time.

As you can see, this one is in front of an American flag. They also had a generic backdrop for foreigners and America-hating hippies who may want a picture sans flag. For that pic, I decided to employ a different strategy.

All business. I'm clearly not fucking around. Now give me my fucking diploma and let me get the hell out of here. That's what I'm about in this picture. Just let me hit that stage and shake Father Privett's hand. I had told myself that I was going to squeeze the shit out of Father Privett's hand when I got up there. He was going to remember me. Here's the photo.

Father Privett was dressed up like Jaffar, the villain from the Aladdin movie. As you can see, I'm smiling while I am approaching him for the handshake. I am really just buttering him up for a very painful and manly handshake, the likes of which he had never experienced from any butter-soft USF students, you see I'm a different breed. He was probably thinking:

"Oh look at the smile on this young fellow. He looks like a nice young man...OOOOOUUUUUUCH. MARY MOTHER OF JOSEPH! That was a firm and devastating handshake. Wow, that really hurt. Julien Rodriguez, I will forever remember you as the firmest handshake I have ever suffered through."

I saw all of that when I looked into his eyes. Fear, intense physical pain, and admiration. Well that pretty much sums up my graduation experience. Now I just have to endure a summer of classes to get my diploma. Shouldn't be too difficult.