Sexy And I Know It (LMFAO)

SECURITY ALERT

SECURITY ALERT

… sexiness has entered the building … ALL GUARDS ON DECK!

//

Good Evening!

Malfeasance

First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my irreverent behavior last weekend, though blame for my malfeasance rests solely on the staff at K97.5, as they opted to cancel their weekly 919 Radio show, thus leading me to have a moment.

Let me explain. You know how they say Jesus comes in to your room and gives you all your medication every night? That’s false. What really happens is that Jesus comes in your room and plays 919 Radio. So yeah, shame on you @K97.5 for going against the wishes of Jesus and therefore causing me to miss my fix! Heathens . . .

Amateur Blogging

Last Thursday I started a left-leaning political blog that covers twisted GOP actions like voter suppression, and ever since, I have been extremely busy trying to keep up with the 24/7 news cycle. It’s a bitch to do, but I’m really enjoying it. In fact, the prospect of blogging professionally really interests me.

Anyway. The key to blogging lies in choosing a topic that genuinely interests you. This, in fact, comes before profit. I could make a lot more money blogging about cell phones or whatever, but these topics bore the hell out of me. Politics, on the other hand, I find absolutely riveting.

One thing I’ve come to realize is that a blogger can’t cover everything. I imagined myself covering all political viewpoints, from those that support my liberal beliefs to those that enhance the conservative position that Obama might be bought out by Wall Street, but to write about everything would be impossible. Thus, I have narrowed my blog to a niche: left-leaning politics. Sometimes I venture a bit beyond my niche, but for the most part, my blog courts a rather liberal perspective.

Another thing I’ve realized is that it takes time to acquire fans. My fan base is limited to one or two ardent followers (my Dad, who literally broke into tears when he first discovered my site, and maybe Al Sharpton). I was about to give up, until another blogger told me to acquire patience, as it took him an entire year to develop a loyal fan base. It’s actually the biggest bitch of all, because it bugs me when I spend hours writing about gun law reciprocity, only to have barely anybody read it.

I’m Up Out

I’m considering moving out the state. I absolutely hate my current residence. I would talk about it in detail, but I can’t. As schizophrenic as this sounds, I feel like everything I do is being watched—as if my every move is being monitored. It’s the direct result of such endless close proximity to another human being. I suppose I’m one of those people who need a certain degree of space to function well.

So “how the hell do you plan to deal with marriage one day?” you ask. I don’t know. But I do know that I am willing to try much harder for a woman than I am for dudes with balls. To hell with that. Suffice it to say, when I miss Miss Right, I’ll do everything in my power to upgrade myself. Until then, I would rather just keep escaping to better, more relaxed environments.

But I cannot find another home, and I am getting sick of looking. A family member long ago offered to purchase me my own residence in his very progressive hometown. I refused and am still very resilient to the prospect, as his part of the country hosts practically no minorities, save for annoying-ass hipsters (FYI: I am not a f**king hipster. I’ve been to juvy, jail, prison and the pen; I’m the real thing || FYI: If that did not make you laugh, then you truly have no soul!), but I am growing extremely desperate.

That said, a move might perhaps be part of the near future for me. I will miss Raleigh and especially K97.5, but I desire happiness, and jumping from lousy home to uncomfortable home and whatnot does not constitute happiness.

1

Signed,
Loudmouth Liberal

Moving

Check me out at my new blog: Loudmouth Liberals!

Neurotypical Bitches

Are there any investors out there? I have a million-dollar idea for you, and all I ask is that you send me a fat paycheck if the idea ever proves to be successful.

In particular, I need someone to construct a high-quality dating site strictly for those individuals who suffer from Asperger Syndrome. The one and only site that caters to Aspies, www.aspieaffection.com, is fraught with problems—a ridiculously slow server, disgustingly pathetic graphics, piss-poor functionality and limited social connectivity, to name a few. Ideally, I would like to see an OkCupid- or PlentyOfFish-grade dating site that would allow Aspies the chance to find love among their own kind.

Where did this desire come from? Well, flag me if you would like, but my friend Saurabh and I are sick and tired of normal bitches. Yes, I said it. We are not friends per se, nor are we family, but we went to HS together, and we both suffer from Asperger Syndrome. And as he said so eloquently earlier today courtesy of Facebook, “neuro-typical” women are extremely annoying:

“
when I am feeling something for someone...
it is sincere... but I tend to be honest...
and come out with exactly how I'm feeling and when I am feeling it...
neurotypicals get scared off by that.
You have to kind of release it in spurts...
like an old hose... with many kinks in it.
Very very hard for me to do.

Neurotypicals bore me...
most of them anyhow...
they are so mechanistic.
You can't be sincere with them...
you have to... be painstakingly slow...
and overly cautious...
like walking on a bed of nails.
”

The irony is that these “neuro-typicals,” as he likes to call them, think we are the slow ones. Perhaps we are slow in regard to face-to-face conversation, but when it comes to expressing emotions of intimacy, we are the like Louis from “Revenge of the Nerds,” as is evident by the following paraphrased quote:

“Lewis: 'Cause all Jocks ever think about is sports [hanging out watching football, watching the latest episode of Community and hosting orgies at the ultra-ultra groovy Frat House, bro], all we ever think about is sex [expanding our mind with intellectual stimulation, exploring the delicate emotions that surface courtesy of life’s most simple pleasures and making sweet emotional, physical and spiritual love to the woman of our dreams].”

So there has to be at least one team of programmers and graphic designers in Raleigh with the ability to create such a website. I cannot guarantee any profit, especially if you have no skills in web marketing, but I know for a fact that there is potential in such an idea.

Anyway.

I’m up out.

1

PS @ Programmers/Designers: Another idea is to create a Craigslist-like chat site with a chatroom for EVERY city in the United States of America.

PS @ Technicians: Need to learn how to use Android but can’t afford an Android phone? Download Android SDK.

And oh... I hope everybody who is able to make it to the Fair this weekend has a great time!

Steady Mobbin’ (Lil Wayne) | I Am The 99 Percent

Political Fanaticism: An Experiment In Madness

I am a politics nerd, and I am not ashamed to admit it. Everybody should be as obsessed with politics as I am, if you ask me, because every bill that is passed or vetoed affects each and every one of us, whether we realize it or not.

What I am not, however, is a fanatic. I diligently try to consider all viewpoints, even when they seem outright wrong. Lately, though, this has become extremely hard to do because the messages have become extremely fanatical.

For instance, just earlier today, radio host Neal Boortz appeared on the Sean Hannity show and claimed that President Barack Obama has been a bigger disaster to this country than 9/11. Need I remind you that 9/11 resulted in the demise of almost 3,000 Americans? You know what is even more shocking? The audience clapped at Boortz’s statement—just like they clapped at the idea of a man without insurance dying.

Meanwhile, Ann Coulter compared the Wall Street protesters to Nazis, Hank Williams Jr. equated President Obama with Hitler, Herman Cain claimed that all black people who vote for democrats are brainwashed, Andrew Breitbart spoke publicly about killing liberals, conservative bloggers ripped into the writers of a Muslim superheroes comic book for promoting the "Islamification of America,” the board chair of the National Organization of Marriage said gay marriage is “evil” and the vice president of the NRA alleged that Obama is after the 2nd amendment—though Obama has in fact done nothing to tighten firearm restrictions.

Such extremism is enough to drive a man mad. I imagine, in fact, that the Reverend Al Sharpton would have lost his mind if this had occurred during his youth—a time when he was quick to counter such extremism with even more extremism. As an older and much wiser man, however, he now realizes that fighting fire with poison is both unwise and foolish. I wish I felt the same, but I am still a young-buck with a lot of fire in my heart. And every time I hear bullshit being touted as truth, it infuriates the heck out of me—so much so that I get a bit loopy.

For example, I believe that a time will come when every American will have to make a choice and decide which side they support: the one that believes promoting civil liberties for everybody, welcoming those who are different with open arms, nourishing those who cannot afford food, educating the ignorant so they can rise up and succeed, helping the downtrodden learn to love themselves, healing all who are afflicted with a mental or physical condition, forgiving those who have sinned and loving one another all come before the acquirement of money—and the one that literally covets wealth over any and all things, including some of its own religious convictions.

The President would probably argue that I am being negative and counter-productive, but I disagree. I honestly do not think our problems can be rectified through mere negotiation. All it has done is use up valuable time. The only thing that can rectify this mess is the division of the United States into two separate entities: blue America and red America. It would allow each side to run things their way. And the only way to bring about this division is if each and every one of us purchases a gun, finds someone with whom we disagree, shoots him or her in the head and then repeats the previous steps until the government finally has enough and caves to our demands.

Now look, you might have concluded by now that I am being rather hyperbolic, but what if I am? Do I not also have the right, like those I previously mentioned, to go off the deep end and lay the demagogic smack down, even if everything I say may or may not be total bullshit—and even if I may in the process completely confuse and perhaps even frighten those who are ignorant of what is really occurring around us? So if I possess this right, why should I not go ahead and just blabber out whatever badly organized, foolish dribble is circulating in my demented mind?

Because fanaticism solves absolutely nothing—this is why. All it does is dilute the truth with bullshit. And the thing about bullshit, and any shit for that matter, is that it stinks. The real truth is you and I as Americans can either choose to engage in fanaticism, which could potentially one day really lead to a violent confrontation, or you and I as rational Americans can opt to cast aside the bullshit prejudices we have about one another and sit down at a table for a peaceful, meaningful negotiation on how the hell we can come to terms with our differences . . .

I await your decision.

Signed,

Young Money Democrat (#YMCMB)

PS @ Lil Wayne: I do it because I believe strongly in my convictions.

Jobs & Innovation

When I heard about Steve Jobs’ death, I was initially overcome with a sense of jealousy. This was due in part to the super-duper coverage regarding his passing. This was also due to the fact that I am a die-hard Windows fan (Macs are for noobs!). Now, jokes aside, I obviously have a deep-found respect for the man and his achievements, and I am certainly sad as per his far-too-early demise, but the jealousy that overcame me did at least inspire some introspection.

What makes Jobs so unique is that he brought forth completely new ideas and products. And frankly, I want to do the same thing. One reason I lack passion is because everything I do or could possibly do has already been done. I started writing satire, but The Onion and Comedy Central already have that department covered. I got into e-cigarette affiliate marketing, but 100s of other people are already doing it. Then I got into survival food affiliate marketing, only to discover 1000s of other people are already doing it. I have thought about creating a politics blog or Facebook group, but again, 1000s of people are already doing it.

One problem I have with capitalism is that it promotes redundancy. The fact that 100s and 1000s of companies compete to sell practically the exact same products irks the hell out of me. I do not want to be 1 of 100, 1000, 10,000 or 100,000. I want to be unique, innovative and somebody great. And greatness cannot be achieved through boring-as-hell redundancy. It has to come from out-of-this-world innovation—the kind of innovation Steve Jobs brought to this world.

Sighs. I’m just so sick of doing things that everybody else has already done. I want to do something completely new—something that has never been done. Seriously, how can a man or woman find any passion doing something others are also doing? It seems so pointless. So very very pointless.

Drugs

Many people, including Trey Parker and Matt Stone, have a very bad image of pharmaceutical medications. While I am aware that the pharmaceutical industry has an agenda that revolves strictly around profits, I believe that the drugs themselves are not innately bad. Case in point: Earlier this week, my very kind state-sponsored psychiatrist upped my Paroxetine dose by 10mg. Only a few days have passed, and yet I can already tell a subtle difference, in that I feel slightly less anxious. I’m also a bit more talkative and relaxed. The point is that medicines can work.

Speaking of medications, the medication I really wish I were on is Adderall. The state does not cover it, but if I were on it, I bet I would be a new person. I pass ADD tests because it’s easy to focus when under pressure, but I know for a fact I have ADD to the extreme. I know this in part because my dog has become just like me. This heffer has no sense of focus, lol.

Redistribution of Wealth

Personally, I believe in the redistribution of wealth. Why do Will and Jada Smith need a $7.5M ranch? Have they become so fat from years of gluttonous eating that they absolutely need an 8800 Sq. Ft. home to sustain themselves?

I chose them so as to not immediately alienate conservatives. I believe everybody should have the opportunity to live in his or her own home. My brother makes a lot of money, but he likes to live with a lot of people. That is his decision, and I respect it. But many of us want to be alone, and I think we deserve that right. It will never come to fruition, however, in a world where people are so overpaid:

CEOs like Donald Trump
Actors like Will and Jada Smith
Politicians like John Boehner, Harry Reid and Eric Cantor
Radio hosts like Rush Limbaugh and Michael Baisden (sorry, Mike, but I am trying to make a point)
Etc…

It is one thing to be successful and live a moderate life with a few luxuries here and there, while it is another thing altogether to use all the extraneous funds to fund a ridiculously extravagant lifestyle. That money could be put to much better use if it were redistributed to where it is really needed.

Yes, I am kind of a socialist. And no, I am not moving to China, because I am also kind of a capitalist as well. I think we need a fusion of socialism and capitalism to fix our dilemma. I am tired of all of the ridiculously high, as well as ridiculously low, salaries out there. Success is one thing—but gluttony, whether via food or wealth, is another thing altogether.

Voice

I wasn’t going to write anything today, but then I noticed Al Sharpton dancing the “James Brown” on the Jimmy Fallon Show. I decided to look for a clip of it to post on my page and link to Politics Nation. While doing that, I discovered a video of him that showed him back in the day dressing like a young hiphop aficionado and fighting the fight. And it shocked me, and it also inspired me.

Lately, I’ve felt like giving up on trying to change the world. On every corner of every street of every city of every state of every country is bigotry, hatred and intolerance. It is all around us, and I am fed up with it. But woe is me; what am I to do? Likely nothing but write a bunch of inflamed Facebook rhetoric. Thus far, that is.

I suffer from a debilitating condition that keeps me in a terrorized state of anxiety. I feel great this weekend because my roomie has left for a vacation. He is nice, but when he is around, I am as shy and nervous as a scaredy cat. I can’t help it, and I will likely die this way. But let it be known that every morning I wake up, I hope for just a second that maybe… just maybe this will be the day I find myself without anxiety and fear—totally free to finally be me.

And I greatly urge those who dabble in hatred to pray day and night that this never happens—that I never find my voice. Because I promise that the day I find it, I will begin a journey, much like Mr. Sharpton’s, to bring justice and righteousness to every corner of every street of every city of every state of every country in this world of ours. And I will start at home, here in the United States of America.

Because I am sick and tired of the hatred. And I am sick and tired of the bigotry. And more than that, I am sick and tired of the lies, the excuses, and the bullshit. Something is seriously wrong with this world, and I hope that one day God or whomever, whatever gives me the power to wage a war against it, because I am sick… I am tired… and though I feel alone day in and out, I know deep inside that, in the grand scheme of things, I am anything but alone.

9/11 Through The Eyes Of An Aspie: A Lesson In Empathy

10 years ago, two hijacked planes flew into the World Trade Center, one crashed into the Pentagon and one smashed into a field in Pennsylvania. Combined, the four terrorist attacks resulted in over 6,500 injuries and 3,000 deaths. Despite such a tragic loss in life, I at the time did not give a flying hoot.

I was a rebellious, outcast and immature teenager who was so lost and disillusioned with life that, if anything, I envied those who died. I figured it was better to die after having lived what I perceived was a normal life than to be forced to keep living what I thought was a pitiful existence.

A decade has passed since that doleful event, and though I have grown by leaps and bounds, I still find great difficulty empathizing with those who suffered so grievously that day. It is not that I am without sympathy or empathy; it is that as a man with Asperger Syndrome, connecting with others is and always has been a difficulty.

The irony is that I cry inside when I read an article about an individual who died as per a homicide or an accident. Looking at the person's face and envisioning all he or she brought to this world makes me very sad. But when I think about 9/11, all I see are lifeless statistics.

That, however, is not the case when I stare at pictures of 9/11 victims falling to their death. Just the idea that men and women would voluntarily jump to their deaths astounds me. And more than that, it brings their individuality to life.

It makes me wonder how I would react to knowing that I was about to die, to knowing that my life was about to be permanently extinguished? The very thought fills me with absolute horror. It is like the fear I experience when riding my bike on a road without sidewalks, except 1000 times worse.

Admittedly, the empathy I feel inside from looking at these pictures is lacking in comparison to the empathy it likely stirs in the average man or woman. But still, it gives me at least something -- a tether, if you will -- by which to comprehend what occurred.

These are very painful pictures to behold, but I believe that embracing this sensation of pain is the first step to discovering the meaning of empathy. It is one thing to empathize with a TV show character or someone on the news, but it is another thing altogether to empathize with millions and millions of people . . .

Thousands who died on 9/11.

Tens and thousands who are related to those who died on 9/11.

Hundreds of thousands who knew somebody who passed on 9/11.

And millions upon millions whose innocence was forever blemished on 9/11.

I do not know how to connect with these people, but I hope that one day I find a way.

R.I.P. ; God Bless America

----------------

PS - I will be watching "Reign On Me" tomorrow night. I hope I am not the only one.

This Place About To Blow (Kesha) | Hurricane Edition

Evening, folks. First and foremost, I want to send my thoughts out to all the people who own property near the coastlines. I hope and pray that your properties are unaffected by Hurricane Irene. Regardless, the most important thing is that ya’ll get out of there alive.

And I don’t expect the hurricane to affect Raleigh too badly… but still, I hope everybody is prepared and ready for one helluva weekend!

Let’s go…!

Drunk, Moody Roomie To Other Roomie: “I’m Going To Crush Your Head.”

Boston, MA—Late Friday evening, 34-year-old engineer Mark Coolidge came home from work and, after drinking a few beers and catching up on the news, informed his roomie, 26-year-old freelancer Jack Patch, that he was going to crush his head.



“First he pulled me outside to discuss how we could somehow magically solve all of the world’s problems, and then when I mentioned that maybe we should start by raising taxes on the rich, he suddenly went all ballistic on me by telling me that he was going to crush my head,” Jack told reporters, still visibly shaken from the previous night’s unexpected events.

“The crazy thing about it all was that he showed no emotion. I would have figured he was doing a deadpan comedy bit if I didn’t already know that he has no sense of humor whatsoever.”

When questioned by police about the incident, all Mark had to say was, “I am crushing your head!”

Moral of the story: It’s a long story involving my very-funny roomie, too much beer, and Warren the “cock” Buffett, lol.

Moral of the story #2: Big ups to ‘Kids In The Hall’ (88-94).

Pet Owner Shares Pizza With Dog In Honor Of MLK’s Legacy

Boston, MA—Longtime Dorchester resident Charlie Jones, 25, has decided to share half of his hand-tossed Papa Johns pizza with his 2-year-old German Shepherd, Keanan, in celebration of the unveiling of the Martin Luther King, Jr. National Memorial in Washington, DC.



“I think it’s important that I take a moment to pay tribute to MLK’s heroic struggle for civil rights by letting Keanan, who in the past has been forced to chow down on really cheap dog gruel from a metal bowl, sit by my side at the table of brotherhood and partake in this totally delicious pepperoni and green pepper pizza.”

He added, “Come tomorrow, however, the BOY goes back to eating his gruel!”

Moral of the story: Civil rights obviously don’t apply to stinkin’ dogs, but there was once a time in America when minorities, particularly blacks, were looked upon as dogs. And well, I think it’s important that we don’t forget that. Nor should we forget all the hard work and dedication it has taken to get us this far.

Moral of the story #2: Salute @ Martin Luther King, Jr. R.I.P.

Big-Breasted Woman Sick Of Men’s Inability To See Beyond Her Tits

Memphis, TN—A big-breasted, 27-year-old woman from East Memphis has decided to take a stand against all the men who refuse to see beyond her triple F titties and accept her as a unique human being with a unique mindset.



“You know, just because the majority of my body weight is composed of ‘titular’ mass does not mean that I am just some big, giant boob!” the anonymous woman told a band of male reporters who had purposefully been blinded beforehand to assure they maintain the rigorous standards of quality journalism.

She continued, “I am a human being with a big heart and a huge brain, damnit!”

In Related News: Big-Breasted Woman To Get More Breast Implants

Moral of the story: Shuttttttttttttt upppppppppppppppppppppp!

Muammar Gaddafi Loses Chess Game For Libya

Tripoli, Libya—After 42 years of waging ruthless pawn-on-pawn and queen-on-pawn attacks on both his people and the rest of the world, the internationally famous Bobby Fischer wannabe, Michael Jackson lookalike, and all-time supreme dickhead / despot Muammer Gaddafi has finally lost the chess game for Libya.



“It all started back in 1969 when Gaddafi led a small band of disgruntled military pawns in a move to checkmate King Idris,” NBC Nightly News anchor Brian Williams told reporters. “But after winning the game, instead of sticking to the rules set forth by his predecessor, Gaddafi decided to adopt completely new rules based on his own twisted gaming philosophy.”

“He restricted the moves pawns he didn’t like could make; replaced all his rooks, bishops, and knights with bodyguard queens; and began interfering with other country’s chess games.”

According to Williams, by the 1980s, Gaddafi was kidnapping, maiming, and killing pawns from other countries, as well as training his own pawns to set off bombs on other countries’ chessboards. And then in 1988, Gaddafi purportedly orchestrated the Lockerbie bombing, during which his most loyal pawns set off a bomb that killed 270 pawns from 21 different countries.

“Gaddafi continued perpetrating evil acts for a little over two more decades until just this past spring, when some of his pawns finally acquired the courage and momentum to mount an attack against him,” Williams continued. “Most of the world expected the rebel pawns to loose, but after months of braving it out throughout the dangerous landscape of Libya’s chessboard, they have finally prevailed.”

He added, “It just goes to show that nobody can cheat the game of chess—NOBODY.”

Moral of the story: We don’t make the rules, but we do enforce them. That said, CHECKMATE, BITCH!

Young Man Only One Ear Hair Away From Retiring

Raleigh, NC—Despite eating healthy, exercising daily, and maintaining a relatively low-stress lifestyle, 30-year-old Triangle native Chip Sanders already suffers from numerous old man symptoms, including but not limited to shrunken balls, jiggling man boobs, glaring bald spots, and whisker-like nose hairs. According to his doctor, Sanjay Sandhu, he is in fact just one ear hair away from being ready to retire and move to Florida.



“I’m 58 years old, and even I don’t suffer from as many symptoms of old age as Chip does,” Doctor Sandhu told reporters as he shook his head, which for the record was covered in a full set of gleaming black hair. “It’s like he’s physically aging faster than everybody else, though judging from his income statement, his Social Security benefits are about four decades behind his balls.”

Chip’s descent into dirty old manhood began four years ago when, slightly after his 25th birthday, Chip noticed a thinning patch of hair in the middle of his scalp. At the time, he figured that his barber had merely made a mistake, but as the year progressed and the patch grew larger, it slowly dawned on Chip that he was going bald.

“It pissed me off then and it still pisses me off now because I’m way too young to be suffering this sort of bullshit,” Chip complained to reporters while trying fervently to fill in his bald spots with a Sharpie permanent marker. “Hell, my friggen pubes haven’t even finished growing yet, and I swear there are like a shitload of 15-year-old boys out there who have thicker chest hair than I have hair on the top of my head.”

Unfortunately, things only got worse for Chip. By 2007, he began experiencing great difficulty keeping his penis fully erect while making love to his wife. A year later, the situation grew so dire that he sought out the counsel of a local $5/hour Gypsy therapist.

“I couldn’t afford seeing a regular doctor or paying for Viagra at the time, so I made an appointment with this holistic dude who claimed he could fix my problem,” Chip explained. “The guy had me pumping up my penis like a tire, wrapping it up tight in cock rings, and popping Ginkgo Biloba pills like they were skittles, but none of it worked!”

The situation was eventually rectified in early 2010 courtesy of the Affordable Care Act, which allowed Chip access to subsidized Viagra prescriptions. But by then, the situation had only grown worse. While his penis was finally able to hold onto blood, it suddenly started to lose its ability to hold onto pee.

“I used to wake up, scratch myself, bang my wife, scratch myself again, take a shower, brush my teeth, feed the dog, eat breakfast, read the newspaper, check my stocks, smoke a cigarette and then take a pee, but that all changed in April 2010.”

According to Chip, he was making sweet love to his wife on the morning of April 12 when he suddenly got an overpowering urge to pee. The same thing happened three days in a row, prompting Chip to start taking a pee right after he woke up each morning. Two months later on June 17th, however, he suddenly woke up in the middle of the night with the same urge to pee. It was at that moment Chip realized he was becoming a dirty old bastard.

“I couldn’t believe it, man; I just couldn’t believe it,” Chip whined to reporters while staring icily at his crotch. “A little over two months ago, I was living it up, and then all of a sudden, I couldn’t sleep just 4 measly hours without having to take a friggen pee.”

He added, “It’s like what the hell is wrong with my dick, man!?”

Sadly, Chip’s situation has declined even further since 2010. His pectorals jiggle like breasts whenever he jogs, his shrunken balls droop so low that they sometimes accidentally get stuck up his ass, his hearing is so poor that he misses out on many of his wife’s verbal advances, and his testicles smell so bad that his dog purposefully avoids his presence.

The only thing keeping Chip sane during this tumultuous period of time is the fact that he has yet to sprout an ear hair.

“As soon as the first ear hair shows up, it’s a wrap, man,” Chip told reporters as he stood outside on his balcony, a golden ray of sunshine glaring off the top of his partially bald scalp. “I’m quitting my job, leaving my wife for a hot toddy half my age and moving to Florida!”

Moral of the story: It sucks to get old!

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I hope I made you smile or laugh.

Take care and stay safe, everybody!!!!!!!!!!