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Archives: Jun 2013

Things to do when the power is out

1) Have sex, assuming any woman would want to with some loser who can’t even afford a house with working electricity.

2) Masturbate. To what, I’m not sure. This may be the internet’s most valid purpose. Maybe you have a Paula Deen cookbook with her picture on the front? Hate bating is the new hate fucking, folks.

3) You could use this new surplus of free time to catch up on all those long, dull Mad Men episodes you haven’t gotten around to . . . goddamn it. I forgot that the power’s out.

4) Go see a movie . . . goddamn it. That requires electricity, too.

5) Make yourself some popcorn in the micro . . . goddamn it! Electricity!

6) Surf the internet on your 2.3 GHz quad-core processor cellphone until the battery dies around noon, like it does every day.

Welcome to Duluth, nutjobs

The Ryan family has an old saying: If your nipples are bleeding, you’re doing it wrong. This saying doesn’t necessarily apply to any specific activity. It’s pretty good advice for every possible situation in life. Running marathons, shopping at the supermarket, sexual maneuvers with the wife, eating a pastrami sandwich, training a horse to use a toilet like a person. It’s just a general rule of existence that if your nipples are ever bleeding, you’re likely doing something wrong.

Another Ryan family creed: If one of your toenails falls off, you’re doing it wrong. You wouldn’t think a normal person would need this piece of advice. For most of us, it’s common sense that if one of our toenails turns black and falls off, and we know what caused it to do that, we probably wouldn’t do that thing anymore. People who don’t follow this rule are usually found in asylums that don’t let residents use scissors.

Yet another common sense rule: If you’re sober and urinating on someone’s lawn, you’re not only doing it wrong, you’re also way too far from the bar. Many people would argue that if you’re urinating in someone’s yard at all – sober or otherwise – you’re doing it wrong, but I’m not made of stone. I understand that there are exceptions. I peed on a church once. It was an accident. I didn’t realize it was a church until I walked around to the front. It was one of those low rent Armenian churches located in a strip mall. I feel like Jesus wouldn’t care as much about me peeing on those as he would if I did it in Italy. Regardless, this isn’t about me. This article is about you.

A complimentary government file on my mom

It occurred to me this morning, while deep in “meditation” on the toilet, that my mother may be the last person in America with no online footprint. She doesn’t own a smartphone. She has no social media accounts. Her only e-mail is a joint Hotmail account with my dad. Aside from a series of comments she left on my website telling me what a handsome boy I am, she’s untraceable. This polite, sweet woman has unwittingly become the online equivalent of Jason Bourne. She could become a serial killer, and no one would ever find her.

Which makes me nervous, because she does spend a large amount of time talking about the TV show “Dexter”.

You may be wondering why this is a problem. She’s a nice person. Surely, she wouldn’t blow up a bus full of nuns or storm into Comcast’s offices and just start punching people, no matter how much we’d all like her to do the latter. The problem is that she gave birth to a terrible person like me, so there’s really no telling what sort of evil lurks inside her. This horrible personality of mine can’t entirely be my father’s fault. No one could be as unlikeable as me unless both parents were devious bastards.

Local columnist updates uninteresting photo of himself

Item! Local columnist Paul Ryan updated his official column photo today, more than three months after initially promising to do so. For the first time since 2002, the Northland is getting an accurate view of the heroin-soaked twig of a man he’s become.

“Why is his face so thin?” asked Marcie Poon, a loyal reader. “He needs to eat some actual food or do a pushup or something, because he looks like shit. It’s like half of his weird, pale skin melted off his face. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t update your column photo for eleven years. Pretentious douche.”

Ryan says that what appears to be a face marred by a horrendous drug addiction or an untreated eating disorder is actually just a poor photography angle and the withering effect of natural aging. While most men become increasingly fatter and balder with age, Ryan appears to instead be morphing into some form of fragile elderly woman. When asked how many cats he owns and whether they eat more food than him, Ryan declined to remove his crack pipe from his mouth long enough to comment.