Why I think I'm marrying the right girl

Titso: Did you win your softball game last night?
Tim: yeah
Titso: Did you guys get in any fights?
Tim: No, we were playing against the team with the Smith brothers who we’re friends with.
Titso: Are they having their annual whiffle ball tournament this year?
Tim: Yeah, August 27th.
Titso: ooh, the day after our wedding, that sucks.
Tim: Yeah, oh well.
Titso: You’re going to be hung over.
Tim: ....Yeah, but I wouldn’t play anyway…
Titso: Why not?
Tim: Well, we’re getting married the day before…?
Titso: And..?
Tim: well, um, I just thought that uh, I don’t know.
Titso: We don’t leave for our honeymoon till Sunday, so as long as you give me some sex between the time we walk down the aisle and the time you leave to play whiffleball, I don’t care what you do.
Tim: Not worth it.*




*I didn't say this.

30+??

I can't believe I got so many comments on a picture of my feet. Wanna learn more about them? Read on...


- I've had one pedicure in my life, over a year ago. Titso wants me to get another one before the wedding. Unlike a lot of you, she hates my feet
- When I ran a marathon two years ago I lost 5 of my toenails. They all grew back.
- My brother and my mom have webbed-toes. Their second and third toes are connected all the way up to the nails. Sometimes I look at my feet and think mine are starting to web.
- I only have 4 toes on my right foot.
- I'm lying about that last one, but I bet you're checking the picture to see....

I hate feet

But I'm so addicting to blogging that when I was sitting on the deck of the house last weekend, looking at the moon over the Atlantic Ocean, I thought "I should do a HNT picture of this." And I was too lazy to move, so I just did my feet.





















I'm off to settle on the house on Thursday, so have fun at work all day biotches!!

Shhhh

I sit right next to the office printer and fax machine.

Something is always printing.

I never noticed the low hum of the building’s air conditioning unit.

Until it just went off.

Nobody’s printing anything.

It’s really quiet.

Eerily.

This is the point in the movie where someone jumps from behind a bush and stabs my face off.

I’m scared.

Biology

Isn’t one supposed to be dehydrated after drinking an entirely unnecessary amount of alcohol? Because I’ve peed about 19 times already today.

I can't stop blogging

Titso just got a promotion with a 10% pay increase. She almost makes as much as me now. It's only a matter of time before I become a full time, stay at home Desperate Househusband.

Next Blog Button this

I don’t know about you, but I’m a total stat whore. I check them all the time. Once in a green moon I see I was linked from 10 completely random blogs in a 3 minute span. I’m pretty sure that means I was put in the “Next Blog” button queue for a few minutes. Then I start to think to myself, “If 10 new people just came here, I can’t believe none of them commented. I thought I was comment worthy.” Then I realize something. Their blog blows and they have no sense of humor.

Bowl of fun

The Kool-aid man might have a slight weight problem, but Goddamn, doesn't he look like a ball of fun? Busting through walls and everything...

God Hates Me

I didn’t win poker last night. I’m pathetic. How am I supposed to take over the world if I can’t beat 9 other guys. I’m my defense though, the guy who won was most likely a descendant of the banjo playing dude from Deliverance, and I’m pretty sure he had some sort of freak super powers.

I'm tired. So Tired.

My week:

Last night: Get home from shore, stay awake until 2am.
Tonight: poker finals. Drink until 1am, hopefully win $400+.
Tomorrow night: Softball game. Drink till midnight.
Wednesday: Softball game, then deal poker until 1am.
Thursday: Settle on new house, start moving shit into new house.
Friday: Move more shit into new house.
Saturday: Move everything into new house.
Sunday: Unpack.

As you may notice, there is no booty in there. Also, I didn’t list the fact that every free moment will be spent boxing the rest of the shit lying around the house. So, my question is, Do I really feel like going to the gym right now?

My blog's dad could beat up your blog's dad.

Bliss

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while you may remember when I first started planning my wedding and wanted to keep it cheap. Yeah, that didn’t happen. We invited 300 fuckin people. And EVERYONE is saying yes. Don’t these people know we were just inviting them to be polite? Say no mother fuckers! I don’t even know who you are!

A Simple Plan

When I was at the Borgata last week we were hanging out at one of the casino bars before the Weezer show. They had an extensive margarita menu. I was shocked when I saw they served a $60 margarita, until I saw the $180 margarita. Upon seeing this, I hatched a plan. Keep paying $6/beer for my Miller Lites, get really drunk, go to the show, then gamble. Everything was going exactly as planned. My plan was to win millions. After joining the ranks of the riches, I was going to go back into the bar, buy myself a $180 margarita, take one sip, and spit it in the bartenders face. I would then proceed to demand my money back, twofold. That would show them who’s the fucking boss!* But, unfortunately, they sniffed my plan out and rigged the cards to make me lose. Fucking mobsters.



*Tony Danza

Six Degrees of Blogger Nation

Did you ever see that movie Six Degrees of Separation where Will Smith plays the gay dude? Neither have I. But have you ever played or seen the game Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon? The game states that any actor in Hollywood can be linked to Kevin Bacon based on movies they’ve been in with other people who have been in movies with Kevin Bacon. And it can be done in 6 or less links. So, I started thinking that this can probably be done with blogs. I bet almost any blog on blogger can be linked to me by people that link to them in 6 links or less. So, I decided to test my theory out.


The Next Blog button would be my random blog finder. I know there are a lot of shitty advertisement and foreign blogs out there that I couldn’t take into account because they don’t link to other people, or if they do, I can’t understand them. So, I first had to click Next Blog over and over until I found a blog that was:

a)In English
b)Not an advertisement blog, and
c)The person was not a total douchebag.

I never got past this step. The Next Blog button blows.

My Brain on HNT

So, I gave in and decided to join the HNT thing all the cool kids are doing. For my first post I decided to take a picture of my brain. I snapped picture after picture and different things kept appearing; Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, Poker cards, Titso, tits.. oh, Jessica Simpson, etc. But the one thing that kept rising to the top of my head was good old starburst porn.* #













*If your here for the first time for the HNT and aren't familiar with my starburst porn, you can find it on my sidebar.

#It was about 150 degrees when I took this and the starbursts literally melted to my head.

Linking an update of my life

I just saw this guy in the hallway. I had to stare at my feet when I passed him.

This is not going to be easy. Morning wood is going to get it’s way eventually.

Darkening round two at the Jersey shore starts in 24 hours.

HNT has made Thursdays my favorite blogging day of the week. I might have to snap a few pics tonight to join in the fun. We’ll see.

Pretty soon you'll be an old bastard too

A few years ago the company I work for started a quest to be voted as one of the Top 100 places to Work in the US. We've failed every year thus far. When they ask us why it's not one of the best I always answer "Why would we be a top 100 place? Nothing is done for me to like wokring here anymore than I would a McDonalds." But now, after writing this blog for the past few months I'm starting to realize I might just be a grumpy bastard. It seems like everyday I'm writing about something fun and different going on. Yesterday it was a guy screaming about pussy, today there's a guy sellling CD's in the cafeteria again. A few weeks ago I asked for suggestions as to what to buy, but he had left by the time I went down. So, I FINALLY took Future Ex's advice and Picked up Ben Folds, Songs For Silverman. I'm digging it.

But the true reason I'm writing to officially apologize to my company for saying they don't try is because of next week's event. Free Lap Dance week. It's gonna be awesome!!

The Real World

I debated whether or not to blog this because it doesn’t fit my typical blog post of something stupid with a stupid punch line. It’s just a regular true story that was pretty bizarre. But, I thought I’d share it anyway.

I go out to grab lunch and some guy is sitting in our parking lot in his BMW yelling into his phone. All his windows are open and he's parked in the first spot in the row and he's facing out his window screaming "It's not the pussy! I can get pussy anywhere. Your pussy doesn't have me trained. I can get pussy anywhere I want!"

End of post.

LISTEN UP!!!

THE COMPUTER LANGUAGE I PROGRAM IN IS ALL UPPERCASE LETTERS! SO IF I WRITE SOMETHING IN UPPERCASE, IT DOESN’T MEAN I’M SCREAMING!! I JUST FORGOT TO PRESS THE CAPS LOCK KEY!! IT’S THE EXCLAMATION MARKS THAT INDICATE I’M SCREAMING!!! OK?!!!

Mr. Popularity

I rolled into work at 10:45 this morning. I'm pretty sure no one noticed.

You wouldn't like me when I'm drunkry

Sometimes when I get home from softball or poker and get on blogs I laugh. I laugh at myself. During my sober hours I do a lot more shaking my head at my stupidity rather than laughing. But for some reason when I drink I laugh, at me. I can write the worst, dummest, stupidest comment ever on your blog and I think I'm Jerry Seinfeld. Then sometimes the next day I stumble upon the comments I left the night before and realize I was just drunk. Sometimes on nights like those (these) I wonder how Titso puts up with me. Then I remember she's always asleep when I get home. She avoids me. She's smart.

Nice, with a capital F-A-T

Today is “International Dessert Day” at work. Employees cooked their favorite desserts. Internationality/Ethnicity was encouraged at first, but became optional because of lack of ethnic participation. So, I just went down to see what was made and I was bamboozled. Everyone who cooked something was sitting there watching you take or not take what they made. I’m too nice to hurt anyone’s feelings, so, I had to eat 9 desserts. I might puke.

Take a picture, it will last longer

OK, so after ignoring my work for the past 2 hours, I’ve finally got picture links for everyone who updates their blog on a semi regular basis. If I missed you, please let me know because blogger fucked me over about 93 times when I was trying to publish and I had to keep redoing it and may have lost someone. If you don’t like your pic*, tell me a new one. If you think the person next to you smells, I’ll give them a sponge bath. If you think I’m a total psycho whore and don’t want me to link you, please let me know.


* Conti – You don’t have any pics on your blog, so I did a google picture search for “conti” and the first hit was a tombstone with the name Conti on it, so I thought that was cool.

Genuis

This weekend I played Trivial Pursuit. I won, of course. You know why I won? Because I know everything. Just test me out.

Weekend by the Numbers

1 awesome Weezer concert
1 camera with dead batteries that I would have showed Weezer pictures with
1 very bad casino trip
1 beer after another drank
1 darkened right nipple
1 darkened left nipple
1 sore entire body from playing Frisbee
1 frisbee lost to the great white sea
1 bruised knee from falling up the porch stairs trying to lug luggage
1 vacation I need to recover from vacation
1 vacation I’ll need to recover from that one
1 pee I really need to take right now

My brain is working in slow motion right now. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m thinking about Weezer, gambling, a three day weekend at the beach, or because of the giant margarita I just had at lunch. I just went to a few blogs and wanted to comment, but my brain couldn’t come up with anything. I want to reply to all the comments from my last post, but I feel retarded right now and can’t be witty. I think I’ll put on my sunglasses and take a nap. Sunglasses drown out the sound of snoring, right?

Calling All Bets

Can I go 7 weeks without pootang? We’ve decided to not make sweet, sweet love again until we get married. Titso’s been on the pill for 12 years and figures it will take a long time to get her body off it, so she’s stopping taking them now. Today. So, we think it would be best to hold off for that and for honeymoon-esque reasons. Can I do it? Wanna bet?

Skills

A new training seminar was just announced at our work. It’s called “Finding Your Voice for Career Success: Use your talents to achieve your career goals.” I can’t wait to figure out how to achieve my career goals by using my talent of being able to find good internet porn for free.

Only a daaay awayyyy

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, after work I'm going to Atlantic City. To gamble and lose all the money I've recently won. Then to see Weezer. Then to spend three days on the beach trying to darken my nipples. I hope I get them really dark this time.

Dorks

I just saw a dork at the pizza shop at lunch. Sometimes when I see dorks I get sad for them. Not regular, happy-go lucky dorks because they usually have other dorks to hang out with. I’m talking about the dorks that wear their ugly pants pulled up around their chest with their shirt tucked in, haven’t seen the sun in like ever, have bad hair, and have zero social skills and friends. Sometimes I want to walk up to them and say “hey. How are you? I’ll be your friend for the next 5 minutes if you want.” Sometimes I just want to cry for them because I know they can’t be happy with their life of working at Best Buy, and playing Xbox for 12 hours a day. Sometimes I wish I could just give them a makeover which would make them less dorky. But most of the time I just want to punch them and give them atomic wedgies.

Titso loves asparagus. So, I must therefore like asparagus. We eat it like 3 times a week and I’ve recently realized the smell of my pee has been permanently tainted. It kinda smells like burnt peanut butter.

It's 9am

And I'm still drunk.

That's all for now.

The political side of Tim

Afghans sheltered Seal from Taliban.

This is total fucking bullshit. Why the hell would they shelter Seal. The guy married Heidi Klum. Plus he’s ugly. They should let the Taliban have their way with him so there’s more Heidi Klum for the rest of us.

nada nada nada, not a damn thing

I’ve got nothing to say. I just want to post something to try to make that fat guy go away so when people walk by my cube every 2 seconds and look at what I’m doing, at least he won’t be there.

Sometimes I wish I were a little more humble

But then something happens to make me realize how great I really am.

I won my second poker tournamanet in a row. That make 2 firsts and a second in my last three games. BUT, this one was for a little bit more money. Like $600. I know I'm not as great as some people's husbands that are playing in the real WSOP right now, but I'm pretty awesome nonetheless.

maybe I'm not that awesome since I spelled 6 words wrong in this the first time I typed it.

Nah, I'm asweome.

Rain on your parade

Our local weather boy quit this week. All week he’s been like “Yeah, I’m a very humble guy, but I’m just glad I had such an impact while I was here. I really did my projects well and I’m proud of them.” And blah blah blah. Dude, listen up. You’ve been here 3 months. You made no impact. You sit 3 feet from me and I don’t know your first name. Eat me.

Dream Lover

So, fellow blogger Libby had a dream about few blogger, Madison. She stroked his already ginormous ego. Being the ego stroke needing, attention starved blogger that I am, I decided I need fellow bloggers to start dreaming about me. The theory is that Libby dreamed about Madison because he is constantly posting shirtless pics on his site. So, I guess I need to do the same to get you all to start dreaming about me. Dream away ladies!

Score one for the good guys!

Suddenly today, all the pictures are back. They must have felt the pressure from me. They knew if they had to fire me the company would crumble, everyone would go broke, end up eating their own feces and die. Suckas!

Aww crap!

I just figured out why some pictures aren’t showing on my laptop. Because the internet nazis here at work have blocked certain things… including pictures hosted by imageshack and pictures hosted by blogger. Other pics hosted by flickr or other photo hosting sites are ok. It’s only a matter of time now before blogger.com gets banned from our internet. And I’ll cry and cry and cry.

No Title

I don’t got much to say today. Not sure if it’s the terrorist thing or if I’m just too busy and uncreative to write anything. I was thinking of a few posts, but I couldn’t really come up with good enough material to actually post them… but I’ll tell you what my ideas where…

Ther first thing I was thinking was to create my own mememe. Except it would be a himherthem. Instead of telling everyone about yourself, tell everyone about someone else. And the idea was to create 3-5 awards for blogs you read and link them and get people to read them. Such as The Best Commenters Award would go to blog ho. His posts are always amazing, but some of the things the people write in his comments section are ever funnier. (Plus I thought I'd link him again due to his quest to be linked on every blog in existence.) Another one would be Best New Blog ( or at leas one that I’ve been reading for only two or three weeks) would be Conti. He’s weird, like me. Blogger Who Probably has the Biggest Penis Award would go to this guy. Best Blog that Gets Almost No Comments would go to Lint. He’s almost always witty and entertaining, but most of his posts go uncommented upon. I don’t get it. And my Life Time Achievement Award would go to The Pink Kitty. The second person to start reading my shit, and still comments on a regular basis. And all around cool cat.

But I decided not to post that because I didn’t think it was creative enough and didn’t think people would play along and I’d look like a loser. Plus people would get pissed because I didn’t give them an award. Sorry beeotchs.

My next idea that I’m not going to write about would be the comparison between my blog and me in bed. First similarity, neither last more than a minute or two to go through from start to end. Second, neither are ever very deep. And lastly, I usually finish on the boobs.

But I couldn’t come up with enough stupid comparisons, so I’m not going to post that.

I can tell that things are gonna be fine

Funqi wrote today about how she was reading through some of her old posts and how it brought back some of the feelings she had at the time. I had actually done the same thing last week and was going to write about it, but never did, so here I is doing it now.

I started blogging right at about the time Ashlee Simpson lip synched on SNL. Boy, did that make me angry. Made me just as angry reading about it again. Then I reread about when OBD died. Man-o-man, what a sad day in my life that was. Then the day when I changed my blog title from “I’m less Interesting Than You” To “Chloraphil?? More Like Bore-a-phil!?!” What a fun, confident day that was. I had some bad times, I had some sad times, I had some good times.

But in reality, I first started writing in hopes that I’d get some of my creativity out and I’d become “normal”, or “acceptable to society”. People had been telling me back then that I “don’t seem mentally stable” and “I seem a little off” and “sometimes when I look at you I fear for the future of mankind”. Well, I think this blog has really helped me. Nowadays when people say to me, “oh my God, get away from me you freak” or “sorry, but it’s just too small,” at least I can tell them I’m putting forth the effort to change.

60's Theme day

I know my post 10 minutes ago said we’re not allowed to talk about our company, but I can’t help it. We just got another email about having a “60’s theme day” in which we’re encouraged to wear tie-dye and beads and the promo has “Flower Power” and peace signs on it. Now, I could be just young (not likely) and stupid, but wasn’t all that shit in the 70’s??

In the 1970s it was jogging, but today, the “in-thing” is blogging

That was the first cheesy sentence in a company wide email we got today. It was a warning that you’ll get dooced if you talk about our company, it’s people, it’s products, or its financials in a blog. Too bad they sent this out because I was about to hit publish on a blog post about how you all could become billionaires off my company. Ya know, since I’m such a big shot here and know everything about our company’s financials before the info goes public. So, ya’ll are gonna hafta remain non-billionaires for the time being. Sorry suckers!

It was 20 years ago today

Did anyone watch Live 8? Was that not the crappiest coverage ever on MTV ?? MTV needs to go back to their roots and do what their good at: teen dating shows.

I hate the 4th of July. Make sure she hears that.

I think that 4th of July is the most annoying holiday in America, hands down. And it’s all the fireworks’ fault. I don’t really mind the big, officially sanctioned fireworks, but I can’t friggen stand the ones that people light off in their backyard and up and down my street for 72 straight hours leading up to the 4th. I love when I hear stories about people who blew fingers off with a firework because do you know what they were doing one second before they lost their finger? They were being loud, stupid and annoying. They deserved it. Bah Humbug!


In happier news, last night I had a dream that I was cuddled up under a blanket watching a scary movie with Jessica Simpson. She fell asleep so I touched her butt.

A non-boobies post

Titso had the first of her two wedding showers last weekend. This one was thrown by my mom and we got a scrapbook my mom has been working on since the day we got engaged. Within the scrapbook my mom asked both my brothers to write a story about us growing up together and something that was meaningful to them. I liked my younger brothers, so I thought I share. It’s really freaking long so I don’t expect anyone to read it, but it was a good story and one of my favorite moments with him.


Pretty much my entire life I spent looking at my older brother Tim as a man. I saw myself as someone who one day would be a mand just like him. There are a lot of reasons why I have this opinion. Tim always had such a hard work ethic, he always went for what he wanted, he was the biggest (muscles at least, I became the tallest) in the family, and he was the only one to have a beard as far as I can remember. By the way, I thought now at 26 I would be able to grow a beard and that hasn’t happened, but that is beside the point. Even without a beard, I finally feel like I have become a man like Tim has always been in my eyes.

The first time I felt like me and Tim had a man to man experience was win 1999. It might sound ridiculous, but I always felt like having a beer and actually enjoying it with another man was a grown up thing to do. It is always something I saw men doing. Now I can’t lie, I had plenty of beers in high school and so on, but never really enjoyed the taste or the experience; I just did it for the rush and the fun. But in 1999, our family took a trip to Ireland. I was almost of legal age to drink beer at 20, and in Ireland it was perfectly normal for me to be in a bar for the first time in my life with my older brothers.

It may have been the first night in Ireland, perhaps the second, I’m not sure (probably because of the beer), and me and Tim were out after hours in a night club after everyone else retired for the night. We ended up meeting a few people from Europe, I am pretty sure they were from Germany. There was a huge lack of communication between us and them, but Tim and I were connecting like never before. We ended up getting invited back to a party that was about a mile walk away. So we decided to take the walk with them. Once we got there everything went from being fun to being complete outcasts. It was apparent we were the only Americans around and these kids were no doubt in our minds talking about us and poking fun at us because we did not know what was going on. Not after a few minutes of feeling like outcasts, me first memory of my older brother Tim and me bonding as men occurred.

We looked at each other, decided it was time to go, and turned around. But we did not just walk away. We threw our beers high in the air, let them hit the ground, and sang the star spangled banner at the top of our lungs with out arms around each others shoulders. We never looked back, and laughed the whole walk home. And like a man, on a few hours sleep, Tim was launching 300 yard drives on the golf course the next day.