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Archives: Mar 2014

Your NCAA bracket is crap

I’m in first place, and I don’t know why. I’ve never been in first place before. My entire life, I’ve always been more of a last place guy. Little League baseball, computer solitaire, Twitter raffles where complimentary bath towels are given away. I lose in all these activities. Now I’m leading my NCAA bracket by four points after the first round, and I have no idea how to handle it.

I’ve been filling out NCAA brackets for somewhere between 26 and 147 years. I’ve lost track. I was filling them out from the womb before I was even born, and I’ve still lost every single year. Even the years when I just competed against myself by filling out a second bracket titled “Other Paul”, I’ve still always lost.

I’m a man who has grown to love losing. There’s a calming nature to familiarity, to a routine that happens every year at the same time, done the exact same way. Losing makes me feel calm and safe. Losing completes me. Losing is a soft blanket and a warm embrace. I’ve become as good at losing as a vacuum cleaner salesman with 40 years experience is at selling vacuums. When I started winning this year, it was like coming to work and finding the store filled with goddamn washing machines.

A list of this week’s product safety recalls

Here at Paul’s Revenge Work Food, we strive to produce only the highest quality products. When you need to enact revenge on your co-workers with the absolute worst smelling lunches, we want to be your first and only choice. So it’s with great regret that we must request a safety recall of the following items recently sold by our company:

Brown River Indian Cuisine. For those who don’t want diarrhea, but want their co-workers to experience it osmotically, there is usually no finer product. It tastes great, but smells like the family dog’s bowel movement after eating bacon and eggs. Sadly, the last few batches were so intense that somewhere around 47 people died of rectal failure. Our apologies for the inconvenience.

Burnt Anus Microwavable Popcorn. Looking for the smelliest popcorn in the world, leaving behind an odor so intense that it will actually ruin the food people place in the microwave after it? Look no further. Unfortunately, the instructions on the package should have mentioned that adding salt or butter causes an unstable chemical reaction that often results in fiery explosions.

Excerpts from my upcoming children’s book

You Are Garbage
You are boring,
You are average,
You’re a pile of crap!
There’s 74.3 million
children in the world
and most of them are saps.

The poor ones
have no education
or plausible reason to live.
The ones like you
are selfish twats
without two fucks to give.

You’re not the worst,
but not the best.
You’re just kinda plain.
Even though your mom
says you’re special,
it’s a preposterous claim.

Don’t feel bad,
it’s not your fault
that you are so subpar.
The world needs more
administrative assistants
and hose monkeys to wash their cars.

If your mom had
been less supportive,
and taught you how to work,
Maybe your adult life wouldn’t
be so disappointing, and
you wouldn’t be an entitled jerk.

 

My apologies in advance for the dog photos

I’m sorry. That’s all I can say. I haven’t even done it yet, but I will, and I’m sorry. It can’t be stopped. I’ve only owned a dog for one day, and my phone already has roughly 8,017 photos of him. It’s only a matter of time before I post them to online social networks. I don’t want to, but I have to. Nature compels me. I am now a pet owner. I am now annoying.

I never wanted to become one of these people. I hate these people. These common suburbanites with lives so boring that all they can do to pass the time is unleash wave after wave of photographic dreck online, each pet or baby photo more mundane than the last.

Post one photo and it’s cute and informative. You have a pet or baby now. It’s a thing in your life worth sharing. After the tenth or twentieth photo, half of them blurry or poorly lit, an intervention is needed. One where your closest friends gather in a room and shout things at you like, “The damn baby/pet is doing nothing of interest! Nothing! It’s just yawning or staring vacantly into space! Get your shit together, Kenneth!”