Monday, May 25, 2020

"This Might Be the Quarantine Talking But..."

So, this whole pandemic thing has us isolated. Is there anything worse than being alone with your thoughts? Prolly not. Here's a bunch of random thoughts that have been taking up space in my head.

I can now confidently rock white tube socks.

No one has said they miss baseball. NO ONE.

I'll allow this.

(The most work I've done for this post is researching for the above picture)

All these knudnicks running around that want everything open yesterday are subliminally screaming "My home life sucks." We know, but we ain't responsible for your poor choices, bro. (And they're all guys)

All the people whining they won't wear masks...are exactly the people who need to be wearing masks.

I've lost track of all days, and I can't blame my burgeoning alcoholism.

Still on my same stick of deodorant from early March.

Ditto travel size bottle of shampoo I stole form a Hotel 6.

In unrelated news, dreads take a lot longer to grow than I originally was lead to believe.

A lil' sumthin' for the ladies

April was last month, apparently

I still can't find a girl who can pull off the "girl looks hot in face mask" look.

Flobies are now more than Jordans on eBay

My rum consumption has gone up. Also, I don't have the 'rona. Coincidence?

OK, I really am wondering what would Jimmy Buffett do
18,000 new cases of Corona reported this day

Isn't it time for a reboot of 2 Girls 1 Cup?

I really like the new drive in bar at the bottom of the parking lot of the shopping center where I order my rum

There's this old dude at my home gym that can no longer pull off all the UnderArmour he wears. Don't get me started on his tube socks.

Screw it; for the rest of the summer, the Kevolution Theory archives is free for everyone.
"But, Kev, your blog has always been fr....."

I can't tell you the last time I wore pants that had a button. Or belt. or a zipper. Or just pants...

The thing about losing track of hours and days is it's always cool to start drinking. Is that an 8AM sun or a 2PM sun. Who's to say? Bottoms up!

With all this talk of contactless delivery, I can't be the only one wondering WHAT THE FUCK WERE THEY DOING TO OUR FOOD BEFORE ALL THIS?

Also, contactless is a new word because my SpellCheck flags it every time

You can have your hockey back, but Pierre McGuire does every game. Hhmmmmm...

So COVID porn is a real thing. I've watched some of it. A few twice!

I find on the days I don't use deodorant, the social distance thing isn't that big a thing. For everyone else.

Me, after I showered, used deodorant and washed my hair two days in a row.

I have contactless glasses.

Someone, somewhere, is designing a "sexy Coronavirus" costume.

How da fuck are Christmas movies supposed to make anyone feel better?


I like Corona, but I wished they gave this a scarier name, like Coors Light or Lowerbrau. "Hey, did you hear about Steve? He caught the 'Brau."

I think we're all on the bus that we wear whatever when we're in our backyards. For example, I had on a coconut bra and a grass skirt today, and nobody batted an eye.

(Would the above joke be funnier if I said I was wearing white tube socks, too?)

People are using this time to learn an instrument, paint, draw, do magic. And all I have is this shitty post. Where's your art?

What if we decide we don't like the New Normal, say "fuck it" and just hang out in the house all day?

You're still staring at your phone too much.

Sunday, January 5, 2020

My 2020 Rebel Resolutions

1) Get these out actually before the New Year hits.

New Year's Resolutions are pretty much bullshit. I'm not the first one to point it out and won't be the last. Yet, you sheep continue to make them like it makes a damn of difference. People, somewhere there is a talking frog somehow drinking a cup of tea and looking down on your foibles.

It got me to thinking; what if I made totally achievable resolutions? Well, that's kinda easy. So that got me even more thinking (my head now has an ouchie, you unappreciative bastards, so y'all better appreciate this post), what if I was just totally a rebel? I mean, I AM a rebel and all (think, like the good Star Wars rebels, not like the racist ones) so what if I went the other way with these BS resolutions? What if I defied all logic, what would that look like? It took me a couple days, but I came up with the Resolutions we all need for the Roaring 20s. Follow along and- uh, wait, actually don't follow along. You guys just stick with your usual resolutions. In fact, just stop reading this now. (Not a problem for a lot of people when it comes to this blog, trust me.) Leave me along with my resolutions, sheeple.

Drink more.  Fine, I mean, if I have to. Almost all of you lamos picked this one for your sissy resolutions. Ha, not me suckers! I now feel like it's my civil duty. What with all this extra alcohol just lying around, collecting dust like positive reviews for Cats, the economy will crash. Not on this patriot's watch. If there's anything I've learned from the Modelo commercials, it's that beer brings this great country together. Alcohol is my friend, my wingman. No one has ever said, "I just had a Sprite with Kev, and you know what? He is quite the charmer. Very funny, too. I'll have to read his blog sometime. And you know what? He's kinda hot." Besides, what's better after a night of having a few drinks than waking up feeling like shit? Personally, I enjoy spending most of the morning trying to fashion a Gatorade drip, brushing my teeth 10 times and feeling like it's a workout to just sit up. Throw in some shitty pizza and fries for dinner, and that is living. All worth it for a few measly White Claws, amirite?
A billion internet points and a Taco Bell hot sauce pack if you get this reference.

Spend less time with Theory Pup 2. Really, he can go fuck himself. He lies around on the couches all day, something TP 1 never got to do, BTW. You know what it's like to fight the dog hungover (me, not him. Not yet, anyway.) for couch space? And all the time I waste giving him belly rubs? You know he eats, multiple times a day, for free?? What is this bullshit? Just because of his unconditional love? All the times he cheers me up when I am blue? The times he drags me out of the house on beautiful (and not so beautiful) days for walks. The times he redeems all my shitty days? The daily laughs? Why, just last night, I was lying on the couch. This son of a bitch jumps right on me, his body between my legs, his knucklehead on my chest. He looks at me with all the love in the world in his eyes. He gently falls asleep, punctuated with gentle puppy snores. This is the most serenity and peace I can find this side of the ocean. And what do I have to do for this? Pick up all his dooks in the yard. Once a month. Honestly, there is so much there, I swear he has his friends come over to leave a steamer. Pfft, yea, fuuucck him.

Spend more time on Facebook. Yes, in the past I championed a movement hash tagged (by me) as #FacebookFree48. The essence of this enlightening practice is spending 2 days -usually Saturday and Sunday, but you can choose-off all of your social media. In return, you almost get 2 whole days back to keep all your bullshit resolutions. You get more time to spend with friends/family, live in the moment, meditate, read, write, walk the dog, blah blah blah. Sounds transcendent, right? You know what happened. Everyone said, "Great idea, Kev!" then right fucking ignored it. Instead, they dispensed with the life right in front of them, and just stared right into their little escape boxes. They even ignored my much simpler idea of not checking you socials first thing in the morning. And you know who this "they" is I am referring to? YOU. Yes, all of YOU reading this right now. YOU.

Fine, you guys win. I am now firmly resolving to checking my social media no less than 75 times an hour. And yes, I have alarms set to remind me. I'm hardcore when I resolve things, damn it. I have decided I constantly need to evaluate my life based on the actions of others, many of who/whom I barely know and will most likely never even physically see in this life. Or the next! How come you guys never told me how much fun this is? I now wholeheartedly enjoy comparing my Saturday night lying on the couch to what your Saturday night is. And, oh man, the fun of waking up on a Wednesday morning and seeing what you did the night before is an awesome way to start out the day! And, oh, all the places you "check in" to or even just the things you are merely interested in? Color me fascinated. I have particularly come to enjoy the vauge-postings. You know, the ones where you post something vague/cryptic/picture, and just leave it hanging there for your other shithead friends to raise a fuss about? I just can't imagine how redeemed and valued that must make you feel. You are a true hero.

Not to leave out all the people who post the same thing every time. Or cry victim about a situation you can change on your own and with no fanfare! Not all heroes wear capes! Which brings me to....

I know, I know, the R word. But this is to prove the point.

Argue more politics on FB
. Quick show of hands here, friends; how many of your political stances have been changed by what you've seen on FB? (Everyone's hands goes up.) Exactly, I totes knew that! To clarify, all of you who post pro a certain political President sway me every time! Hold on, now all you who post anti a certain political President, well, dang it, you just swayed me your way! This is tough. Can y'all just keep hammering home your political beliefs? I will always read them. Better yet, can you enter arguments? Because the nations' opinion always changes when you slam a politician on a page that loves them. Which also brings me to..

Continue My 2020 Presidential Campaign Because I know more about politics about most politicians, really. Much more. By a bigly amount. And let's face it, I am the Preside- no scratch that-the Savior this country needs. Many more blogs to come, the best blogs, really. In the history of blogs. Full of ideas, perfect ideas. The best ideas, everyone knows that. #VoteForKev2020 #YWA

Read less. Again, this is because you guys are being jerks about this one. Almost every resolution I've read has said "read more." Therefore, there will be less to read. Why fight it? You eggheads, go ahead, and hog all the books. I assume y'all know where the library is? And that you even have a valid library card? Or know what a library is? It's fine. Honestly, I still have magazines from 20freaking18 I still haven't finished. How can I appreciate what all the Hot Summer Gear for 2020 is, when I didn't even know what the Hot Summer Gear for 2018 was?! I've also been procrastinating about reading a book I was given months ago- Eat That Frog-about ways to stop procrastinating. I don't have time, damn it! What I really need is a book about how to find the time to read another book about procrastinating. Can one of my fellow writer friends make that happen? So, If I'm reading less, that gives me more time for (and, GD, my segues are strong for not writing lately)...

Writing less. Phew, what a relief this will be. I mean, last year, I only wrote 8 blogs, with my last one being in August. Shit, I need to slow down my pace already! Here's the thing with writing, at least for me. Believe it or not, these dumb posts actually take a lot of time. It's not just writing, but rewriting, editing, "word surgery," tightening things up, fact checking, hyper-linking, more jokes, pictures, captions, SEO tricks (SEO stand for Shit Everyone Overlooks-at least when I try to do it) and generally a 'sleeping' on it period (that's what she said) to make sure it's good enough and worth your time. As you can hopefully see, these generally take a lot of time; from hours when I'm lucky and the words are just falling out (rare) to a week or longer (most common). And, while rewarding at least to me, it's starting to take up a lot of time. A lot of time I can be doing other things. Like all of my rebel resolutions.

And, for me, here's how the experience goes. I feel super fortunate that, say, 20 people 'like' or tell me they enjoy my post. Yet, it only gets 7 hits. While there is value for me to what I consider my art, if the payoff is so damn small, is that still a justifiable return on my investment? Would I personally have more fun getting hammered and beating people up in WWE 2K20 or pouring my black heart and blacker soul into a hilarious piece of art that 11 people read and the one odd hit from Tajikistan? (Where I am huge, BTW.) What's the point in trying if you can't give up? I think Homer Simpson said that, and every great artist felt that way about their art. I've always said history will appreciate me far more after I am gone, which is such an easy way to die. Speaking of dying....

Workout less. I am so damn tired. I don't know how many crunches I have done. Or how much weight I have benched. And for what? To be "in shape?" To "be healthy?" To "live longer?" Honestly, I have pushed myself to do some dangerous things in the gym, it's a minor miracle I haven't hurt myself more. All for what? To "look good?" I have come to the realization that, for me, all this lifting of weight and sharing of sweat has been a big waste. I'll never look thew way I'd want to look, so why bother? Are you not familiar with a great Homer Simpson quote along these lines? At least the one good thing I have going for me is I am not handsome. Maybe, on some level, this has been a fuel for me to go to the gym 4-5 days a week. Thankfully, I have now come to realize that because nature has set the bar so low for me, the best I could aspire to be is a butterface. And I could be so much more? Er, wait, do I want to be some much less? Damn it, I don't even know anymore. But at least I do know, that with working out less comes...

Already ahead of ya, Kev.

Eating more. Not just because of the above, but because, again, it's a common resolution to eat less. Ergo, there will be more food available. And while I hope all this extra food magically finds its way to the most hungry, I think it's fair to say there should be a bit more available to me. So I should be available to eat it. Pretty sure that is the circle of life. I've tried to be a clean eater for years. Using the NutriBullet, trying to eat more plant based stuff, denying myself. Now I robustly say, "No more!" Why have I been denying myself eating tasty chicken wings at the expense of food that should theoretically extend my life for an even longer period of not eating tasty chicken wings? What's the bloody point here? Does Taco Bell have a frequent eater card? 'Cause I'm gonna need one.

Not learn how to play guitar. No, fuck that.

Not learn how to play the violin and the harp. What's the value of learning to play any instrument? OK, so maybe it's better for your brain. And maybe it's a skill you can hone that makes others happy and might get you a few bucks. We all know music is the most vastly underappreciated form of art out there. Music has helped me in my most darkest times, so I owe it to the art to not desecrate it by trying to play. Anything. I have 2 guitars I still have no idea how to play. Let's up the ante here. I would like to not learn how to play two far more difficult instruments. Sorry, symphonic metal bands, you will have to do without me. Good luck getting laid, though.

Meditate less. Er, wait, is "meditating" code for pooping? I doubt that, so Imma just gonna go ahead and somehow do less of something I don't do anyway. What does enlightenment get me anyway? Why do I want to feel better, stress less, feel healthier and live in the moment? Why do I get the feeling folks think meditating is trying to have zero thoughts in your head? Because I see plenty of empty headed idiots all around me. Or is meditating supposed to be you alone with your thoughts? Or quieting your inner voice? Dude, that is exactly why I drink. Why do you think I made that 'drink more' resolution? For my health? Sheesh, pay attention.

Hmmm....might need to rethink this one.

Travel less. You know what travelers love more than traveling? Talking about traveling. And if they do CrossFit while traveling, y'all best run for the hills because they will blather on for days. Have you ever been out in the world? It's a scary, dirty place. Full of strange looking people that talk funny and spread germs. Maybe that's just a generalization, I really don't wanna know. I don't see the benefit of going to all these strange places. Just because they have things there we don't have here? Newsflash, there's a small tower in the center of my small town, so go suck a big one, Paris. I have no less than 3 different pizza places nearby that are all on a first name basis with me. Why would I need to travel to Italy for more Italian cuisine? You will have to do better than a leaning tower and a sinking city; we got plenty of them here, Giuseppe. I see no need to go to different places strictly for just the experience; let alone different culture, people, traditions, music, geography, food, drink, hot exotic women, architecture, experiences, art and on and on and on. I've been to the Jersey shore; many times. I'm good.

Write less lists. OK, I'll have to work on this one.

Start smoking. Oh, how my clear lungs used to laugh and laugh at all you smokers, huddled 40 feet away from the doorway of a building. I mean, it's 2020, you know smoking gives you cancer and deteriorates your body, like, well, cancer. I was really going to skip this one, but than I saw this whole vaping thing the adolescent kids are doing, and now I'm all like, "Sign me up!" I have the extra money now that I've cancelled my gym membership. Can't wait to look older, lose my teeth, have yellow fingers and develop all these symptoms I see on the drug commercials. If it's good enough for Keith Richards, than, damn it, it's good 'nough for me.

Watch more TV. This one is near and dear to me. I am often in awe when I talk to friends that are married, have jobs, a house, kids, etc. And they seem to have copious amounts of time to binge TV. This also dovetails nicely with my 'work out less' and 'eat more' resolutions. Look at me! Look at me as I sit on my couch and watch all these shows y'all rave about. It's surely not because a lot of this streaming medium is new, so if we spend a few shekels on it, we feel compelled to rave about it in a vain attempt to feel superior? It's not because the Mandalorian is the galaxy's worst babysitter? No, not at all. Now weeknights, weekends, legal holidays, you will find me on my couch, light coating of Dorito dust, streaming all these shows. Also, I know this decree bounds me to further blab how great this show on Netflix/Hulu/Amazon/Disney is on social media. This is the way.

2020, you've been put on blast. You are my bitch. If I make, when, WHEN I make it to NYE 2020, I will be bloated, drunk, ignorant, lonely, probably the President, tense, wheezing but up to date on TV. Don't be haters. I have given you all the tools so you can end up like I will. Maybe we can have a party together. As long as I don't have to travel too far to get there.

I hope you have enjoyed this post. I don't have to write another one for months now. It will probably be some weak sauce attempt about something lame, like trying to sleep with one of these gravity blankets or some bullshit. See you then.

Sunday, August 18, 2019

Kevolution Theory Destroys The Idea Of "The Sunday Scaries"

There I am; awake early (!) on a Sunday morning (!!) at the gym (!!!) doing cardio (!!!!) trying to sweat out all the craft beer I had the night before. On the TV is a story about something called “How To Combat The Sunday Scaries.” Really? Really? This is what counts as news, even on a Sunday morning? I’m guessing by the context, the “Sunday Scaries “ is the newest media propagated disease/syndrome that never really existed before, but now it does, so it’s a real thing? Anyone else notice, like over the last 10 years, there’s been an explosion of previously heretofore undiagnosed diseases? Looking at you COPD. But-guess what-there just happens to be a big pharma company that just happens to have the magic pill that can combat said malady! Goodness gracious!

sunday scaries
Anyone else diagram out their Sunday? I do a Venn diagram for Thursday.

OK, TBH here, I really do think there is some substance to things like “Sunday scaries” and conditions like road rage. I do “suffer” from this as much as there are just a bunch of asshole drives constantly around me. And while I do ascribe to the thought that there is probably a bit of merit to what the Sunday Scaries are, I am also the fucking smartest writer you read, so you by golly betcha I also happen to have the cure.

Let’s level the field, here. This is the source video. Watch for yourself, and just imagine my heavy breathing and smelling like craft brews right next to you.

Even though this story is my first exposure to it, it apparently turns out that it’s been a thing for quite a while now. The first hit in a Google search takes me to an actual Sunday Scaries website. The folks over at Urban Dictionary seem to have come up with a definition that is pretty spot on
The feeling you have after a long week of work followed by a Saturday full of binge drinking, when Sunday hits you question your entire existence. Typically characterized by laying in bed all day and both regretting past decisions and questioning your seemingly non-existent future. Thoughts like "I"m going to die alone" and "Will I ever get a job that I actually enjoy?" consume you for the entire day while you're battling a hangover.
Wow I haven't seen Chad all day! He must have a bad case of the Sunday Scaries

I think we’re all on the same page (or in Chad’s bed) here. I think we can all agree, this kinda sorta is a thing. While science has better things to do, this does go along the lines of seasonal affective disorder. In fact, I would hazard a guess to say if you “suffer” from the Sunday scaries, you probably also “suffer” from SAD. And you also must not be a party come Sundays in the fall.

Here’s one of my biggest problems with buying into the scaries; it freely allows you to become the victim here. And, dear readers, I don’t think that’s any of you. I don’t want it to be. “Ooh, tomorrow is Monday, so that gives me permission to be a sullen sadsack and suck all the joy out of these 24 hours and try to drag my friends down with me.” Um, no. Newsflash, dickhead. Monday always comes. Just the same to you as it does me as it does everyone damn else. You cannot stop it, just like you can’t stop Tuesday (I’m not gonna bother to research this, but please don’t tell me there is such a thing as the “Tuesday Terrors.” This shit may never end.) Monday is going to happen, and if you are willing to just roll over all Sunday and give up, I have two words for you

No, not those two words, but these 2 words.

Fuck. You.

Now aside from hitting some imaginary quota where I have to tell any remaining readers to fuck off, then lament why no one reads this anymore, this is just also, plain and simple, the truth. By the Sunday Scary logic, you’re just going to give up on an ENTIRE DAY, just to be dreading the next day? Huh? How does that make sense? Look, I’m not saying there isn’t some validity to SS, but I believe buying into it makes you waste what could potentially be a great day. Instead of investing into the “Sunday scaries” how about putting some oomph into “Sunday Funday?” I’m not great at time management-ask me to tell you later-but even dipshit me sees the flaw here. I can see the danger of buying into this “scary” theory, and I have two recent examples to even illustrate the inherent danger..

A friend posted a question to the effect of “how do I turn off Memories, because I don’t want to be reminded of last year?” This upset me for a few reasons. First and foremost, they are immediately playing the victim here, and I’ll get to that in a second. While I emphasize with whatever the pain or issue might be, publicly calling it out might not be the best move here, why call it out at all? Why give it anymore power? This type of “vague booking” just creates more drama, and I believe this person is better than that. Secondly, this person has the power and control to just negate this issue all together, instead of giving it weight on their social media. While turning off Memories is quite possibly an option, I truly don’t know, but I am sure a quick Google search would yield the answer without calling attention to whatever the issue might be. I believe my friend to be stronger than all of this. Now, whatever the issue is, here’s the simple answer that they have had the entire time:

Stay the fuck off Facebook for 30 days. You’re welcome.

And while that seems to be an impossibility these days, you can at least go a few days. The #FacebookFree48 ("Geez, Kev, does EVERYTHING have to back to you?" Yes, shithead, it does, because I have all the answers.) doesn’t have to take place over just the weekend. You could, say, start it on Monday-and-boom! Look at you, your Monday just got a little bit better and you get a whole truckload of time back instead of frittering it away on FB. Point here being, my friend is not in a hopeless situation. Substitute “Mondays” for “Memories” and the situations become similar. And while certain events may be out of our control, we can control how we respond.

In my own life I had the great fortune to recently go on vacation. While I don’t know that it was quite blogworthy , just go here and it’s pretty much the same story. (Also be sure to stay tuned all the way to the very end for the Easter egg you heartless jackals didn’t catch last year.) I had already been in my destination for just a few hours, having an awesome time. Without warning, the Thought popped into my head. I did not consciously invite it. Yet, it was there. I acknowledged it, I knew what it was saying, and I did my best to shut the Thought down. In all that sunshine, it still persisted, until it had to be heard. Finally, it broke through. Just a few hours into my happy place, the Thought said:

“Your vacation is already running out.”




The point of the Thought, no matter how dark and premature, was still valid. A few precious hours had already ticked off what imaginary and unacknowledged internal clock I had going. I sat there with the Thought, yet I knew I had power, I had strategies and choices. This may be the first shot, but I can -no I WILL- shut this nonsense down now. In my happy place, with my person, with my dog, a few good beers, with families having a great time, with being so close to the ocean, with already awesome memories, I fired back. I acknowledged the Thought; it was in fact, true, my vacation was already a few hours gone. But I took the power to consciously say (in my head, because in resort town bar, this would be pretty embarrassing, no matter how strong the beer is) “That doesn’t matter. I am not going to let the passing of 3 hours effect the remaining 165. This will not deter me. So, thanks for reminding me, Thought, because I am grateful for this little nudge to make what’s left count. So, now, off with you, Thought, because I can now assure you I. Will. Make. This. Count.”

And then I had about another 4 beers to celebrate my victory. Woot woot!

The point here is that I, just like my friend above, have the power to take control and not be the victim here. We can both at least acknowledge the issue, but we don’t have to let it own us.

We don’t have to let one little brief spurt of time ruin everything else. Dread, fear, worry-all of that is bullshit and a glorious waste of time. Back to the issue, Monday is always going to come. Because I am so smart, I will share some possible ideas that might make it more bearable.

Make Sunday count. Instead of cowering over the fact Monday is bearing down on your, appreciate the time you have. Read, cook a good meal, lay on the couch in your (preferably yours) underwear, volunteer, draw, eat cheese, binge a TV show, write a blog no one reads, go somewhere you’ve never been, hell, even do some work. You have the choice to do whatever it is to Make.This.Count.

(Speaking of Make.This.Count, I gotta start getting tshirts, hats, mugs and other nonsense with that on it on Etsy. KT merch coming soon!)

Prepare for Monday. As we've previously seen, Monday always wins; it always arrives after Sunday. Maybe be a bit mature here (a stretch for this blog, I know) but plan for it. Using my pathetic shell of an existence as an example, on Sunday night -and pretty much every night before a workday-I prep my breakfast and throw it in the fridge, I freeze some stuff for a NutriBullet, ensure my work clothes are relatively decent, my bottle of vodka is hidden in a thermos in the car, I know what I have to do as an elected official of the US and lastly look in the mirror and tell myself how awesome I am. You can do the same, especially the part where you tell your mirror how awesome Kev is. 

Make Monday earn it. Do whatever it is that fills your Sunday up, so that Monday is like all, “Nah, bro, I see you killed it yesterday, you can just use me to reset from all your weekend awesomeness.”

Do something outside your box on Monday.

Do a little research to make your Monday better. My real life example; I have discovered a lot of places have all you can eat crabs on Monday. No matter how much Monday thinks it can kick my ass, come Monday night, I’m freaking Neptune devouring the sea.

Look, this could all go on, you get the point.

Please don’t fall victim to the fallacy that is this Sunday Scaries nonsense. Maybe come up with contrarian bullshit like “Friday Frenzy” or “Adventure Saturday.” Hell, even plan ahead for “Power Hour President’s Day” or “Awesome August 24th.” These are the types of ideas we should be dwelling in.

I admit, I am not great with math, but I am pretty sure Monday is, like, 1/7th of your life. Does it make sense to spend most of Sunday -also, I think about 1/7th of your life-in fear and dread? Narrator voice: “No, it does not.”

You’re free to now go and do whatever it is to. Make. This. Count.


Director's Commentary
I've spent roughly 4 hours of my Sunday writing, researching, linking, getting pics and videos and editing this post together. 4 hours of a #FacebookFree48 Summer Sunday gone. But what I got back is this post. In my own bizarre way, I have a tangible piece of my "art" out of today. Anything else past that is just a bonus. I am satisfied that I made this count.

Sunday, July 21, 2019

#FacebookFree48; The Life I Saw This Weekend

I firmly believe, long after I am gone, history will finally realize that I am a brilliant writer with brilliant ideas. None may be any more brillianter than what I've been doing the last 3 weekends. I've been staying off Facebook and social media. I have currently dubbed this #FacebookFree48. As another Monday morning dawns, I feel refreshed. I feel drama and stress free. I'm also feeling pretty damn haughty about the Free 48 I'm onto. I feel like it's my mental "down dog" and I don't even have to wear yoga pants. Or any pants really.

Dog does not have social media. Be more like dog.

One of the byproducts of the Free 48 is all the -duh- free time. I'm up and out of bed earlier because I'm not on FB seeing whose bitching about the weather or politics. I'm not on the dumper for 20 minutes now. I'm doing healthier things for my mind and body. Now, maybe you're not sold on this Free concept, so I thought I would detail all the "extra" little things in life I got to do and see this weekend. Turns out there's a lot of life that doesn't fit in your phone.

I watched the Endless Summer like I always do during the summer. It's my favorite summer movie-sorry, Jaws and Malibu Bikini Shop-and a great slice of a simpler time. I also enjoy watching it before the PC police come down on it for maybe, possibly being a tad racist in, like 1 or 2 small segments. But I really feel it was naivete and cluelessness on film maker Bruce Brown's part.

I had my faith restored in humanity, which is pretty heavy for a Saturday. As much as I loathe to do this during the weekend, I had to venture out to the store to pick something up. While I was there, minding my own GD business, a guy comes up to me and asks, "Excuse me, do you work here?" One thing I have learned about me is that I appear to look like I work at whatever place I may be in at that given time. (Like, for example, the liquor store. But at least that makes sense because I am there all the damn time, they gave me my own locker in the back.) I politely tell him no, but I also point him to someone who does. He goes over to the employee, whatever. Then the guy comes up to me and thanks me! "Hey, buddy, I just wanted to thank you. What's your name?" I am flabbergasted this kind of courtesy exists in this world. I tell him my name, he extends his hand, "Well, thank you, Mr. Kevin" and he walks away. 

I find myself listening to Michael Franti more and more. However, this is music I can only listen do during the summer. When it’s nice. And sunny. Not raining. (I know, I know, I am a music freak.) I wasn’t even digging Stay Human 2 till recently, then the click came and I dug it. I really think Franti is getting to be to young people what Buffett is to old people. Also, Roger Clyne and The Peacemakers is great summer music. I’ve been getting into the Joint on SXM. Again, when the summer goes, so does the preset for the Joint.

I’m writing more and more. I think we can all be thankful for that. Namaste, world.

Killing it at the gym. Like, to the point, I’m actually sweating. This is good news, as it aids an air of legitimacy to all the over priced UnderArmour I wear.

Cleaned out my computer. Much like myself, I’ve been noticing it slowing down lately. Look, I understand, as far as PCs go, it’s getting pretty old. (I bought it last week). I took the time to go through settings/apps and features to remove anything questionable. And I know what you’re thinking, and, no, none of this was from watching porn. Also, much like myself, I cleaned out all the cookies. My PC should be quicker now, which could mean more blogs! More likely, drunken Amazon purchases. (Narrator voice; “None of this worked.”)

I watched a lotta porn.

I went to the store to buy a frozen pizza. I left it on the dashboard, and by the time I got home, it was ready.

Came across one of the funniest sites I've ever seen

Speaking of, went blackout shopping on Amazon. I’m not even gonna check what I did, I prefer the surprise. One time, Drunk Kev went all next level and got into my subscribe & save. This explains why I have 37 bottles of Orange Glo.

I switched up my direct deposits. Yay adulting!

Finished a book. Pretended to understand it.

Reset my neighbor’s wifi password. Just to teach him a lesson. Can’t be too safe these days. I mean, with a password like FGh56://5tY7Gg5&o2@k%, he was just asking for it.

Filled out every survey at the bottom of every receipt I could find. Back up the Brinks truck!

On Sunday, like a proper and distinguished gentleman, I had brunch:

Accomplished my summer goal ahead of time; collected all 50 different bottles of Mountain Dew. Comes with free diabetes.

Multiple incidents of puppy cuddles. I have to say it boggles my mind when I see people walking their dogs, yet they're staring into their phones. (The people, not the dogs.) Like, you're walking a dog, life can't get much better.

Monday is once again upon us, with it's usual evil precision. Yet I feel refreshed and pretty sure my bullshit meter is low. I had a great weekend in many respects even if it wasn't all amusements parks and beaches. I'm grateful for the extra time I got back and the little slices of life I got to see. Now, maybe the freight train that is the work week has all kinds of bad plans for me, I can't say. But I can say I am coming from a pretty good place, and I really like my odds.

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

No One Cares What You Look Like in 50 Years

Not to brag, but I had another great weekend. Wanna know why? If so, please read on. If you don’t, then I don’t know what to tell you, and now this whole thing is getting awkward. But it looks like you’re still here, so I guess you do wanna hear about my weekend. And you can tell me all about yours at I totes promise I will read it.

Anywhoo, it was a great weekend, because for the second week in a row, I didn’t check my socials. I am thinking this needs to grow as a movement, so we need some sweet hashtag. #FacebookFreeFriday could work. #OfflineWeekend. I would like to hear yours, so leave them in the comments below. I can’t do all the thinking here.

On wears the week, and I suddenly start getting all these pics of my friends as they will look in 50 years. Uh oh, another FB fad coming.

So why the bloody eff are we in a rush to see what we’d look like in 50 years?

No one wants to see this, and, hell, I’ll save you the trouble of even bothering. Take a good look at yourself in the mirror; fight the urge to take a selfie. In 50 years, imagine:

Grey hair. Lots of it. Some possibly in strange places.

Maybe no hair at all.

At least 1-3 chins. 

Glasses. And they won’t hide the heinous bags under your eyes 50 years in this life will give you.

A lack of knowledge of WeverTF passes for pop music.

Face it, in 50 years, we’re all gonna look pretty gross, if not dead. In which case, we’d be both.

See, now you know, and you didn’t even have to give all yourinfo to the Russians! (Prolly not related, but I guess this means we know who wins the next election. #VoteForKev2020 is our only hope.)

facebook 50 years
Plus, I have all your information, comrade.

Why are we obsessed with this? We are a youth based society. Just look at our health magazines. All the headlines boast “5 Ways to Look Younger!” and “Do This One Simple Trick and Feel Younger Instantly!” You’re not gonna sell any magazines or books with taglines like “How To Feel 60 and Diabetic in 30 Days” or “Hearing Aid Earrings.”

Spoiler alert kids, no one is as young as they say online anyway. For example, I have been claiming to be single and 25 every year for like 12-13 years now. If I’m any older than that, most of society won’t care.

Here’s something I’ve learned over the years of social media; if there is a sudden app or trend popping up on FB all of a sudden (like what was that big cartoon thing a couple years ago? See, I already forgot.) it’s probably got some malicious intent. But, sheep being sheep and all, sheep just think this is way cool, and click to DL and never read the terms and conditions. Yes, I know, none of us do. But the good thing about these sudden fads are all our stupid friends will fall for it, and two days later their account will blast out redic deals on Raybans. So it’s time we call this for what it is-attention whoring. “Look at me when I’m 50! Reassure me I won’t look this bad then!” The subliminal message here is “Tell me I’m good looking now!”) These same sheep who are so sudden to jump on this are all the vain ones who constantly post bullshit selfies and pics of them 5-10-15 years ago. Hell, I see even celebrities are even getting in on the trend. Couldn't they just take off all the make up and get the same effect?
facebook 50 years
My picture looks exactly the same, mate.

If I was to walk up to one of these sheep and say, “In 50 years, you will be fat, wrinkly, semi blind, probably hard of hearing, I SAID PROBABLY HARD OF HEARING (that joke never gets old) balding, one eye looking different from the other, wearing white socks and probably smell” you’d want to smack the shit out of me, But, lookie here!1! Here’s an app from an unknown third party source that does it for me1!!1 Let’s go!” I am too lazy too follow this notion up, but I am pretty sure there is some douchetastic wording that invites fellow shallow/sheep friends to say how good looking you are now. Gag.

I do have friends/constituents who are widely considered elders because they are almost 50. As you can imagine, they hate being 50, and don’t understand why “the youngsters” are doing this. From what they tell me, your body starts to go downhill between 30-35. They’ve told me all sorts of upsetting things like multiple trips to the bathroom at night and needing reading glasses. Honestly, they were just droning on and on, and I kinda checked out on the rest. I don’t need to be bothered by this unpleasantness when I’m only 25.

The takeaway here is, just learn to appreciate where you are. You can’t get back your youth. And age is an unrelenting and unforgiving deadline. Learn to be comfortable with yourself, whatever age you are. Fortunately, this is easier to do as you move along in life. Don’t rush things. Only the truly enlightened can stay 25 forever.

DVD Extras
This post is a "q & d" a quick and dirty.

Quick and dirty because the idea suddenly hit me. Quick and dirty because I am sure there already a kijillion posts like this out there already, though none as honest and side splittingly funny as this one and also because I gave myself a time limit to get it on the blog. If you sense the editing is a bit rough, that is why. For me, it's a challenge to put myself on a deadline, and just be OK with it, and "let it go." Also, you're a pretty GD astute reader, way to go, champ! Honestly, this whole topic will burn out pretty quick, so this is also an experiment using some search engine optimization to get a few new eyeballs to this here blog. Even if they have to wear reading glasses to read it. 

Sunday, July 7, 2019

What I Learned Staying Off Facebook For 48 Hours

There I was, Saturday morning. It was a good morning as I didn’t get shitfaced on Friday night. Theory Pup 2 let me sleep in a little bit, which is damn nice of the guy. I didn’t know what time it was, but the summer sun filling the room in June colors told me it was about an hour or so later than what time I typically get up during the week. I picked up my phone, just to see the time. I was happy with the extra sleep, and anxious to actually get a full, fun Saturday in. Why stare at my phone? I can see there is a nice summer day unfolding, let’s go get it! Phone goes down, day starts. I am in the gym nice and early, so there’s only a few people who can watch me try not to drop plates and bars on various body parts that are mostly soft tissue. I get a really solid workout in. Get back home, and realize I never “checked my phone.” I can see there are no texts (no one loves me) and no important email. Here, I can make a choice, I can get sucked down the hole that is Facebook. Or I can keep the good flow of a beautiful Saturday going. I make one of those spontaneous decisions I am famous for (Like seeing how much of a pie I can eat) and decide this day is too beautiful and too promising to waste on Facebook. I am going to go 24 hours without checking FB.

This is your brain without social media.

Already, there is a uniqueness to this morning. This is not the typical start. In fact, I dare say most of us start our mornings a little something like this;  I am pretty sure most of my readers are at least comfortable enough with technology, that they have eschewed the traditional alarm clock, and just use their phone. I am no different. However, I soon found myself falling into a trap that I had set for myself. Here’s the scenario; alarm goes off disgustingly early. I open my eyes, and pray I am waking up in my bed, and not a tub of ice in some seedy hotel with a note saying some of my organs were removed, also there is a ton of rented porn on the hotel bill. (Truth be told, those two things may not have a lot to do with each other.) Upon realizing I was in fact in my own bed, I grab my phone, swipe the MFing alarm off. From there I can unlock it, and what pops right up? Right, FB, because that was the last thing I looked at before I went to bed. Now, it was fairly easy for me to stop that useless habit (checking socials and getting fired up at the stupidity I see, which in turns keeps me up all night), but the feeling to “just check FB/socials real quick” got to the point it was a flaming waste of time and immediately put me in a bad mood. Why are we waking up and checking social media? Is it FOMO?
how i left social media
Is it for breaking news? No. No, likely, it is to immediately start comparing ourselves to others. We don’t like what we see, either in our friends our ourselves, and now we’re dark sourpusses all day. if there’s one thing you take away from this blog today; please let it be this:


OK, that was just a test. Here’s the real lesson;ereHe


Any morning. In fact, don’t let it be the second, third or tenth thing you do. This lesson came quite harshly, as one morning it hit me; there is a perfectly fine and fluffy puppy belly waiting on the couch. And that’s how I start all my mornings now. Alarm goes off, I shut it off, phone goes face down, and I greet the morning with my best friend. That’s the way to do it, not by getting yourself all fired up over some dipshits on FB.

how i left social media
Be proud to be a jomo. G'head, be a flaming jomo all you want.

Back to Saturday. The clock tells me it’s noon, and I am in an unusually good mood and pleasantly sober! Maybe there really is something to staying off the socials, and just living your day.
So what did I do with my vast, newfound amount of freetime?

I spent time with my parents. I spent time with my dog. I read books. I caught up on magazines (Ok, from October 2018.) I binged. (TV, not rum!) I listened to music. I did shit around the house. I napped in the hammock. I found the inspiration to write after months. I spent time with people important to me. I did my best to live in the moment. And I had zero FOMO. I ventured out into the world.

I went to a bar, where everybody-everybody- ­was staring into their phone, even the bartenders and DJ. Their faces aglow in zombie like light. Their screens full of FB, IG, texts, etc. There was a bunch of people here, but it seemed like I was the only one truly there. I watch as a couple comes in and sits at the bar. Husband has on a stereotypical Hawaiian shirt, even though we are about as far away from Hawaii-in many respects- as possible. Maybe it was their big night out, maybe they had a sitter, I don’t know, but they were different. I suspect they Ubered it there, as they both seemed to be politely buzzed. As my man ordered a flight of beer, his inner Jimmy Buffett became unleashed, and he sang along with the music to his wife. A little sloppy, but not rude and offensive. And she was laughing back. They were the happiest two in the joint. Maybe it’s more than just coincidence than neither of them were staring into their phone. They were actually having fun, and almost no one saw that and appreciated it like I did. Everyone else was staring into their phones and socials. But I can assure you, I was more entertained than any other schlub there.

As I awoke Sunday, also still having both kidneys safely stored inside me, guess what? Still no FOMO. In fact, much like the IFChallenge I did a while back, it was all very positive forward momentum. “Hell, I got this far, and I feel awesome! Let’s go another day.” And I did. And, again, it was awesome.

Monday morning comes like a vengeful goblin, and I finally decide to check FB. You know what I missed? Nothing, absolutely nothing. When I logged back in, after the first 6 or so posts, it was literally the same BS. I missed little. My perspective from this experience was fresh, as I scrolled down a few more posts, I saw all the behavior that I didn’t miss in full bloom.

Stuff like:

FB not only enables creeping, it already does the creeping on you. Yes, this is old news, but this is my story. About a week or so ago, I ordered a foam roller because my back needs to crack like its full of painful popcorn. I order it, it shows up, mad cracking commences. Now, here’s the thing. I never used FB to research this, I knew what I wanted because the gym has one that works for me. (sidenote; however rolling on the floor and loudly saying, “Oh yea, that’s the spot, right there!” is not being well met.) Open FB, and wanna guess what the first sponsored ad I see is? Yup, for that exact same foam roller. Just another reminder, FB is stalking you. For some of you sickos, that might make you feel a little better about yourself. Whatever floats your boat.

Stop playing victim/attention whore with all your issues/dramas. Not to get all Tony Robbins here (especially the pervy part), but no one ever fixed a problem or achieved their dreams by just whining about them on FB. Man the hell up, buttercup. I have a theory (duh) that the people who post the least on their socials are the most grounded and self-realized people living full and well intentioned lives.Or they are super busy doing important things. I mean, it’s not like you see the President tweeting or anything. Of course, I also have a theory that Taylor Swift wrote a song about me, so WTF do I know?

Enough with the constant barrage of vacation photos. Yes, all your photos of the sunset/rise are all worthy of a mug on CafĂ© Press, but let’s limit it here, eh? You know, it is possible to go away and not post about it? (Go follow Clark Little, and that’s all the photography you need.) Every time I see you go away, I go to your empty house and rub my butt all over your doorknobs.

Kind of unrelated, but anyone know any good lawyers? Seems everybody has video doorbells these days.

Suicide is sadly still a thing. Maybe FB should stop with all the political propaganda ads, and throw in some suicide awareness PDAs and contacts. Just sayin’.
National Suicide Prevention Hotline 1 800 273 8255
@800273TALK on Twitter

I have totally slacked on my Presidential campaign. No biggie, I can just hire some PR firm to put misleading ads on social media. Done.

The amount of requests I get to like y’all side hustle pages is getting to be reGDdiculous. Look, I support small business and friend’s ventures all I can. But if your one of my FB “friends” who never says boo to me (especially on Halloween), never wish me happy birthday, never like a picture of Theory Pup 2, never acknowledge all my hysterical jokes, don’t read this here blog, then don’t fucking expect me to acknowledge your home based tchotchke selling business. You don’t encourage my waste of time and unprofitable side gig, so you can’t expect me to support yours. (Editor’s note; in the process of letting this post breathe a little bit, as I was editing it, a good FB friend asked me to like a band page. She is always supportive of me; she ‘likes’ lots of my posts and comments occasionally, so guess what? That band got a like.) (Editor’s note; I don’t know why I used the term ‘editor’s note.’ I’m the friggin’ editor here. I do all the writing, the pictures and their captions and the editing. Spoiler alert, when you see the term ‘editor’s note’ it’s almost always the writer trying to sound all haughty.)

Taking pictures of your babies every month they get older needs to end. OK, spoiler alert, EVERY BABY LOOKS LIKE EVERY OTHER BABY THE FIRST FEW MONTHS. Like, you could literally do this for 6 months, switching out a new baby every time and no one would notice. Don’t believe me? I triple dog (yes, just cutting right to the chase, here) dare you. Go nuts. Have a white girl baby at 2 months, and a black male baby at 3 months, conjoined twins at 5 months. No one would notice. They’d all just blindly hit the ‘like’ button and comment, “Ohh, it’s getting SO big!!!!” NEWS FLASH-THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS TO BABIES WHEN YOU FEED THEM! You should be calling the authorities if the infant seems to be getting smaller.

It’s apparently a law now that every time you go to the airport, you have to “check in.” It’s apparently a by law that you then have to humblebrag about either your job or your vacation. Well, whoop-de-fucking-do, peckerhead, you boarded a plane! How about this, “check in” when you’re actually flying the damn thing. Outside of that, get over yourself. Pretty sure when Wilbur and Orville Wright first flew, they didn’t immediately dispatch the carrier pigeons bragging how they actually flew and didn’t shit their pantaloons.

"Orville! Call that putz Ford and tell him his autothingamajiggies will never cut it now!"

Oh yea, I have a Twitter, too! Can't tell you the last time I checked it. is Twitter still cool? Have we moved onto something else? I need to know, so I can care less about it.

Apparently, people are now claiming to be something called “breatharians”on InstaGram. Just the fact that this horseshit has picked up so much traction on IG and the main stream media only reinforces my correct decision to not even be on IG. If you seriously think people can go months without eating, and can “breathe” in nutrition, you are truly the r-word we can no longer use. I am pretty sure IG is nothing but hot chicks wearing bikinis spouting off bullshit that everyone takes as gospel. And that’s why I’m not on IG. IG only promotes narcissism and anxiety. (That and the fact the only people I would follow are hot chicks wearing bikinis. It would be embarrassing. Yes, I am a man with flaws, but at least I own my flaws. Sometimes twice a night.)

So what do we take away from this experience, other than I have to get better at writing segues to end my posts? Maybe the time is upon us to pay more attention to what's happening outside the phone. Phones, as advanced and necessary as they are, will always come in boxes. Life doesn't, and if you think it does, you can always step out of that box and live a little bit. Just don't feel the need to feed the beast, and blab about it on your socials. 

DVD Bonus Material

In the whole "editor's note" bit, part of letting a post breathe is giving it a day or two, then trying to put it in a coherent order and getting the pictures and captions (Editor's note; this is seriously about my favorite part of putting the post together.) In this particulate case, much of the time to "breathe" was me spending countless hours researching "fitness girls on IG" all for one joke. But, still, the time invested was well worth it.) You're welcome, fellas. Turns out I didn't even use the joke I had in mind.

Sunday, March 17, 2019

The Best St. Patrick's Day Jokes 2019 Edition

They say write about what you know. I mostly write about drinking. Hell, half the time, I drink while I'm writing. So when a muse like St. Patrick's Day wanders along, you get to work. Which I what I did.
best St Patrick's day tweets
Is this stereotypical enough for everybody?

Plus, timely posts like these are a great way to generate cheap hits. Get ready to snort your Tullamores and shit yer knickers, it's time for...

The best St.Patrick's jokes for 2019

I’m chasing brain cells like St Patrick chasing snakes

I am not wearing green underwear, but they might be tonight after all this green beer. I mean, take your pick at this point; front or back

best St Patrick's Day tweets
"Ugh, couldn't hold in that rum and Mountain Dew." (This is called foreshadowing.)

Any of you ladies need a drunken mistake? I’m available (8s and higher only please)

I’ve planned ahead and changed my Uber name to Drunk N Apologetic

best St Patrick's day tweets

Tonight, is my favorite night of boxing. There’s nothing on TV, I’m talking about all the Irish bars

Can someone please tell me what a “jarro” is and why there is whiskey in it?

best St Patrick's day tweets
8 AM every Wednesday morning in County Cork.

The good news: I found a place that is dead and the beer is good
The bad news: there is one drunken, boorish, loud, ugly asshole here that’s ruining it for everyone.
The reality: I am drinking by myself.

best St Patrick's day jokes

Guys, a brief moment of silence for Lori Loughlin’s kids who won’t be celebrating St Patrick’s Day on campus this year.

best ST Patrick's day tweets
Stupid celebrities doing stupid things for their stupid kids.

I have a blender, Lucky Charms, Jamison and ice and I am not afraid to use them.

This bar I’m at is pretty cool. They even have green beer and small paper cups in the bathroom. Harsh drink, but it’s minty enough to cover my breath. 6/10.

best St Patrick's day jokes 2019

Amazon Prime needs some sort of “Drunken Purchase Protection” option because I will be lighting that shit up later on tonight.

best St Patrick's day tweets
My baby picture.

Does Grub Hub deliver to an Uber? Guess I’m gonna find out.

Whew! Finally broke the seal. I mean, as far as proper toilets go.

On a day of diminishing expectations, guys like me can really clean up.

best ST Patrick's day jokes 2019
Shit. I have vastly under rated fishing.

Bartender; what are you drinking?
Me; Floaters.

Any of you ladies need a lil’ Irish in ya? I’m available. (8 and higher only please. Twitter needs that filter)

Well, I guess it’ll be rum and Mountain Dew for me today. (Foreshadowing!)

So, apparently green lipstick is my new fetish. Which is so much easier than my old one of blonde Peruvians with Swahili accents who can play pirate shanties on harpsichords of ivory.  
best St Patrick's day tweets
I have too many leprechaun jokes to use here.

This means Lucky Charms are 50% off tomorrow, right?

Hey, can all you runners knock it off this weekend? (Yea, I know this technically isn’t a St Pat’s joke, but I have a real problem with these do gooders trying to be all healthy when I’m bent on self destruction.)

best St Patrick's day jokes

Googles nearest Tilted Kilt: 31 miles away. Twin Peaks: doesn't even come up. Sigh…Hooters; 21 miles away

best St Patrick's day jokes
No, really, leave the head thing on. I'm cool with it.

Me drinking green beer like

best St Patrick's day jokes

Strike one; wearing Notre Dame shirt (What’s the name of the leprechaun?)
Strike two; playing U2 (Name me anyone else in the band besides Bono)
best St Patrick's day jokes
Nope. Wrong guy, doesn't count.

Strike three; orders Ultra
best St Patrick's day jokes
Get that Ultra shit outta here!

I really appreciate me a girl who can look hot with green hair.

Anyone know where Connor McGregor is planning on getting arrested today?

I will never get drunk enough to appreciate Irish dancing, but I’m still not one to back down from a challenge.

best st Patrick's day tweets
"Oh, great, Irish dancing!" Said no non breeder EVER.

I don’t know what the differences are between “potatoes” and “Irish potatoes,”, but I imagine it’s much more fun to hang out with the Irish potatoes. I know that’s the deal with Irish coffee.

JC, I lost my keys an hour ago and I keep praying to St Patrick to find the damn thing…What’s that? He’s not the patron saint of lost shit? Well, who is it then? St. Francis!? Does he get a drinking holiday?

(Bet y’all didn’t see a St Francis joke coming today.)

Fireball + Jamison = Flamison. You're welcome world!

best St Patrick's day jokes

Any of you ladies need some regrets from tonight? I am available. (7s and higher only please. It’s getting later and I’m lowering my standards too)

best St Patrick's day jokes 2019

Heads up, because of leap year, next year, St. Patrick's falls on a Tuesday. So we need to come up with an excuse to get hammered on a Monday. I mean, a better excuse than the usuals.