Eagles Win; The Best NFC Conference Game Jokes

Before I get to all the jokes, just a serious thought; how is shit like this NOT the biggest story in sports? Talk about class acts. And this has been going on since the Bills Mafia flooded Andy Dalton's charity. All these fans paying it forward to enemy players should be the lead story in every sports report. Despite any asshole behavior from any football fans today, please read this and find some reassurance there are actually decent people out there.

Viking Fans Donate 200K to Saints Punter Morstead's Foundation

"I triple dog dare you."

They are literally putting Crisco on light poles in Philadelphia to keep Eagles fans from climbing them. The multitude of the city’s fat strippers heard to say, “Yo, we got this.”

The city’s 17 Sixers fans are asking, “What is a conference championship?”

For those of you that don’t know, Philadelphia actually has a pro basketball team named the 76ers. 

Yes, I know this is news to me, too. I always thought the Sixers were the team that always lost to the Globe Trotters.

Vikings fans got to Philly early, and did the SKOL chant on the art museum steps. They were actually shocked to find out Philadelphia had a museum.

I've heard both teams' fight songs, and they are equally as horrible.

First result for "hot Eagles girl"

And the GIS for "hot Vikings girl"

Live look in at me now

Aaaand I'm done....

Saints fans still salty about last week's loss, claim game was predetermined. No wonder WreslteMania is there in April.

Anyone think the NFL made Philly the night game so it will look more picturesque as it burns?

At approx 3 o'clock, there has already been a fight in the Philly parking lot. Philly fans getting a jump on being classy. I did not see any Viking fans in the video.

And now they're throwing beers at Vikes fans as they walk into the game. Not surprisingly, the Vikes fans aren't struck as Philly fans wrists are far too limp to throw a beer.

If someone could make a "anyone but the Eagles" profile frame for Facebook, it would be fire. FI-UR.

The definition of throwing gas on a fire is giving Philly fans all day to drink.

Mike Zimmer is wearing glasses to protect his eyes from batteries.

"I'm wise to you, Philadelphia."

"It will get better, bro."
"I know, bro."

Philly fans are wearing dog masks at the game. That's about the only way they can make themselves attractive.

Anyone ever seen Case Keenum and Daniel Bryan in the same room?

Everyone is making a big deal about Keenum and Foles in the Conference final. But what are the odds two former Dallas QBs would be calling the games?

That girl that eats the Skittles pox is the skankiest thing I've seen. And I've seen a lot.

By the way, the Nets beat the Pacers by a point today. If you care about that sort of thing.

Keenum throws for a TD; Iggles fans immediately threaten his family.

This is Nick Foles with his wife Tori

This is Case Keenum with his wife Kim

Are there any movies where entire cities don't get destroyed? Looking at you Rampage. And Pacific Rim. And Avengers. And any other super hero movie. 

At 6:42 of the first, I have more yards going to the fridge than the Iggles have. BTW, the Iggles have zero yards at this point.

Case Keenum throws his 2nd TD. To the Eagles. Motherf.....

Can't AT&T bring Lily back to compete with the annoying Verizon guy?

"You hear me now?"

Speaking of girls in commercials, anyone else kinda finding her appealing?

"Wanna check my pants?"

Geez, when will this Eagle on Eagle violence ever end?

Eagles score TD, go up 14-7. You can literally feel football fans rolling their eyes saying, "Not this. Not them."

Wait, the Simpsons isn't gonna be on tonight?

Is it just me, or does Case Keenum's neck disappear when he puts his helmet on?

Keenum gets hit, fumbles, turns it over. Budweiser sales surge in the stadium.

Eagles fans celebratory posts on FB starting to contain more more more misspelled words. Vikes fans too busy chewing their fingernails to type anything.

Anyone else missing Tony Siragusa these days? Yea, I didn't think so.

Foles avoids defenders, uncorks TD throw to Jeffery. Um, what's the plan for this game again?

Eagles fans seen googling 'Minnesota' so they know how to spell it correctly when looking for flights and rooms.

It's a good thing Prince isn't around to see this mess.

Kristina Pink totally sounds like a stripper name.

Eagles up by 17 at half. Motherf....

Seeing Larry Fitzgerald in all these commercials 'between games' and it's no wonder the Cardinals sucked this year.

Brett Favre just put his old Vikes jersey on and is standing by in case the phone rings. His family is worried about him.

Eagles run trick play on third down and score. Philly fans losing what little shit they had. Brady watching the game and saying, "Pikers. Been there."

Mike Vick can go fuck himself, and no, I will not let it go.

If the Eagles do win this game, this will one of those Super Bowls where the rest of the country wants neither team to win.

Vikes can't convert a 4th and goal. If you know any Minnesota fans, you might wanna check in on them now.

I'm shocked there haven't been drunken Eagles fans running on the field. The Vikes probably couldn't stop them, either.

If it's possible to save some points for the next game, ya might wanna do that Birds.

Eagles up 24 at the beginning of the 4th. Philly cops seen putting on riot gear. Philly cop horses also putting on riot gear.

Eagles score again. There's a fight on the PAT. It does not stop the badass Philly cheerleaders from running out onto the field. At this point, the cheerleaders could probably whup the Vikings.

Speaking of Eagles cheerleaders

This game is so bad, I'm actually GIS hot Eagles cheerleaders. But I'm not complaining.

The rest of the county is thinking, "Shit, two more weeks of Eagles fans."

Lotta Tide Pods challenges going on in Minny right now.

The safest place to be in Philadelphia tonight is in a helicopter.

Every hooligan criminal in Philadelphia will be wearing one of those German Shepherd masks.

If the Viking fans are being quiet, it's only because they are planning on how to torture the Eagles when they're staying in Minneapolis.

I thought this was the plan.

Marcus Williams is all like, "See?! I told you! Don't blame me."

Historians are now taking what are termed "before" pictures of Philadelphia.

We're well into garbage time, why do you have Nick Foles still playing?

Speaking of garbage time, whatever happened to Katie Nolan?

I don't know what's more horrible, this Vikings team today or Eagles owner Jeffrey Lurie trying to dance with his team.

Time to watch Philly burn.

Patriots Win; The Best AFC Game Jokes and Memes

I don’t have a dog in this race, but the best part of being a fan of either team is you have an excuse to get hammered. “My team’s in the conference final. Let’s party.” “My team won, let’s party!” “My team lost, let’s drown our sorrows.” Everybody wins.

I don’t care who wins this game, this is just training for eating like a hog in two weeks.

In an unrelated note, my use of napkins decreases proportionally when I wear hoodies. You’re welcome, Mother Earth.

Let's play a game; who's hotter? First image that appears for "hot Patriots girl"

Repping the Patriots

And GIS for "hot Jaguars girl"

Well played, Jags, 3 for the price of 1. Even though that is probably the same girl, still yes, yes and yes to be safe.

I could literally play this game all day long.

This is the closest Tony Romo has ever been to the Super Bowl. Suck on that, haters.

There is no actual word "bortle", let alone "Bortles." But it's still dang fun to say.

One day, I hope to have a beard as glorious as Matt Patricia.

New England only up by 3 at the end of one. Lost that bet.

Tom Brady telling cameramen to "get the fuck off the field." Guess they must be getting in the way of the Patriots cameramen.

If chicken wings were points, I'd be dominating this game.

How many bloody NCIS's are there?

If I ever owned a Mercedes, I'd have to name it Lewis.

In case you're not paying attention or those Boston Lagers are kicking in.

Jags winning 7-3.

Jags winning 14-3. This is all going to plan. I guess.

Gronk has his own Monster Energy drink. It has 52 freaking grams of sugar in it.

With 52 grams of sugar, how is there space for anything else?

I feel like I'm playing Madden against my nephew. And I'm the Patriots. Also, he is 4.

From what I can tell, Bortles isn't dating anyone right now, but was tapping this in college. Doesn't matter, if he wins this game, he's dating up anyway.

Guys, this is Lindsay Duke. I'll give you a minute to get to your bunk.

Gronk just got cracked in the head, and the commentators think he's "woozy." If you wanna see "woozy" watch me stumble to the pisser at halftime.

I like how these Diet Dr Pepper commercials have to let you know Justin Guarini is "Lil Sweet." Most people are like, "Screw Lil Sweet, who dafuq is Justin Guarini?"

At the half, Jags up by 4. Yup, all according to plan.

The following commercial spokespeople can please go DIAF; Verizon guy, Flo from Progressive, Paul from Sprint, Chevy guy.

But can we get back Erin Insurance. I don't have a manga thing, but I think I would have to give this a shot.

Admit it, you would.

Did you REALLY have to click that to see what DIAF meant?

Now that Aaron Rodgers is banging Danica Patrick, I doubt Clay Matthews is in an adjoining room.

Jags nail kick, up 7.

Jags nail another kick, up 10.

Gronk says, 'Screw it, I'm going to the bar."

I've really been enjoying Tony Romo's work as a broadcaster, but you know even he's thinking, "Blake Bortles??"

Jags take possession on a tight turnover call. Patriots fans thought the refs were supposed to be on their side.

For the life of me, I can't find anything about Pats fans being assholes. Meanwhile, in Philly they're already fighting each other and throwing beers at Vikes fans. (Yes, there will be links and vid in the NFC blog.) 

You know whoever loses this game will get the "At least you saved on your taxes" meme.

Pats get TD, down by 3, 8:44 to go. Yup, all according to plan.

ENOUGH WITH THE GODDAMNED HORN!

Miles Jack would be my ring name in the WWE.

And as soon as I wrote that, he got hurt.

After trailing for 56 minutes, the Patriots take the lead and the game.

The seal has been opened. The Illuminati have spoken.

Bullshit Facts About Myself (Work Edition)

Open up work email; hey, we're having everyone in for a meeting! (Yea, I know, that's a rough open, but it's the best I can do on a Tuesday.)

And to make things even more douchetastic, we’re going to be doing-wait for it-ice breakers! I have been asked to forward three random facts about myself. As a struggling writer and accomplished asshole, I find myself conflicted. This makes me feel happy, because most edgy writers seem to have some sort of conflict that is fuel. The angel on my shoulder says to get in the spirit of the thing and offer appropriate facts. The devil on my shoulder says let’s make wild shit up. And since the bar likes to take this thing called “money” in exchange for the ambrosia that is “alcohol,” I think the angel wins out this time. But the devil is the one that mostly writes these blogs and my better stories.

 I mean, it could be worse. What’s worse than ice breakers? (You know you know the answer, you just don’t wanna say it.) Role playing! No, not the sexy kind with cable guys, pool boys or where the chick gets “stuck.” No, the kind of role playing where there are totally unrealistic situations and you respond by spouting out company jargon. Can we please just move past this? Isn’t there a PowerPoint we need to see or something?

And this is exactly why I need to be a writer; for the life of me I can’t come up with even three interesting facts about my boring ass. Instead, all these come out. So while I struggle to come up with three facts that make me seem like the Most Interesting Man in the Room and impress the lone hot girl, I will use my time by doing what I apparently do best; screwing around and making no additional money. Maybe my high school guidance counselor was right about me.

As I envision it, these “facts” will be read aloud in a cold meeting room.

Three swigs of whiskey, first thing in the morning, every morning.

I like to crop dust meeting rooms.

I think that people who look at Facebook while they are supposed to be working are big, fait, hairy losers.

I was the sixth grade spelling champ. (True). The winning word was apodyopsis.

This was quite popular in Catholic school.

Taylor Swift wrote a song about me.

There’s so many lies on my resume, I’ve honestly forgotten what’s true and what’s not.

I have eleven fingers. (Watch everyone else look around the room.)

I had successful gender reassignment surgery.

A year later, I changed my mind and had another successful gender reassignment surgery.

I write a wildly successful blog.

When I was a child, my class went on a field trip to the local zoo. We went into the snake house. No one knew that a poisonous snake got loose. Before anyone could stop it, the snake bit me. And then I bit that sunna bitch right back.

I see a shrink 3 times a week for what he’s termed “murderous tendencies.”

I’ve appeared on American Idol. And The Voice. And The Four. And Rockstar; INXS. And Nashville Star. And every other POS music reality show you morons can’t seem to get enough of.

Every pair of underwear I own says “Tuesday.”

I dated Ms. Wisconsin, then dumped her for Ms. North Dakota.

This is really the current Ms. North Dakota. Eyebrows kinda on fleek, but not too shabby.

I played pro lacrosse in my early 20s.

I was a professional foot model. (OK, inside joke, I once wrote for a blog under a redic fake name-we all did-and those last two facts were in my bio. Good times.)

Connor McGregor is afraid of me.

I was in a famous viral video. I didn’t know those two girls, but I did supply what was in the cup.

I wasn’t born in America. I was born in one of those shithole countries.

I have a patent for the 27^th letter of the alphabet.

I run marathons in my spare time.

I read every email and enjoy working nights and weekends.

I changed the signature in my email to “Holla at ya boy” and no one has ever noticed.

My last concert was Luke Bryan. He’s great. Especially when he’s wearing a cap.

Tell me there's some sort of machine somewhere that just churns out all these dudes that look the same.

I enjoy independent films in my downtime.

I find role playing a useful and worthwhile exercise during these meetings.

Best piece of business advice I ever got; don’t shit where you eat. And on an unrelated note, sorry, Gina, but it’s over. Stop sitting next to me.

It's So Cold That...

Hey, everyone, Happy 2018! Sick of this bullshit winter weather yet? I am. Well, I have some good news for my scant loyal readers; all this coldness has at least got me a new blog to entertain you. And what better way to start off a new year of writing a blog nobody reads than by a listicle? If you're already well into your 2018 resolution to be "even more lazy" and don't even wanna click on the link, listicles are basically what writers do when they have a one set up and multiple punch lines. If you're old enough to remember David Letterman, this is essentially his old Top Ten bit. 

Also, it's a slump buster. A pretty easy and relatively cheap way to post various thoughts bouncing around one's head. Which, coincidentally enough also satisfies one of my New Years Resolutions to write "pretty easy and cheap posts." See, we're both winners! Anyway, here are some of the thoughts that have been running through my frozen head. And those of you living in warm areas right now, STFU.

It's so cold that...

Bills fans are setting tables on fire for warmth

My dog froze his nuts off. Wait a minute, I had him fixed, never mind

The temp matches my bank account-4

I can no longer hear Margaritaville on Sirius

I froze an egg on the sidewalk

Hot ass Spanish weather girls are wearing underwear

I don't know what she's sayin', but I ain't listenin'.

In fact, they invented a new word-muy coldiente

I drove through the "bombogenesis" listening to Genesis, so everything worked out fine.

Other phrases I just invented to needlessly hype storms and scare people-thermal dropkick, Freezy McDeezy, a sarsaparilla level storm, 'Nor Beaster, I repeat a sarsaparilla level storm, Winter Storm Hoth

The snowman I built wants to come inside

My wiper fluid is frozen, so anytime I need to clean my windshield, I have to stop, get out, pour windshield wiper fluid all over then start the wipers like a chump

The sixer of beer I had in my car blew up and is empty. Deputy.

It’s colder than two witches tits

Number of posts so far in 2018; 1. Number of "sexy Halloween" pics in posts; also 1.

Donald Trump is taking credit for it

I’m already behind in my running regimen. So fuck it, next year

I Netflix and froze

My Uber last night was an AT-AT

"Try not to get sick this time, eh Kev?"

It's a four dog night

Every Milwaukee's Best is technically Beast Ice

Anytime I see anyone running in this weather, I assume they are fleeing the scene of a grisly crime

Why It's OK To Hate Xmas

Guys, we need to talk. Like, seriously. There seems to be this sentiment out there that we all have to love Xmas. ” It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” the song goes. Every commercial shows happy families greedily tearing open present after present. Meanwhile, there are starving kids in some Third World country wearing Atlanta Falcons Super Bowl Champions t-shirts. Yay holidays!

We spend hours and hours shopping in stores and in the few remaining malls. We waste our precious online time not on FailArmy videos, but shopping for even more shit for people we barely know. The driving, the weather, the people. And this is fun?

Literally, the first image that comes up for "I hate Xmas.'

Look, it’s time we take a stand. It’s OK to hate Xmas. In fact, I am pretty sure it’s in the Bible somewhere. Right after that story about the guy who built the boat and carefully wrangled exactly one male and female of every possible animal. So let’s break this shit down.

All The Xmas TV Movies Suck. I don’t wanna hear another one of you skirts ragging on Saw or movies starring the Rock as “being all the same.” If you can’t see the many layers of the Jigsaw character, you are stone stupid. That is just a fact, and science backs me up here. Yet it’s ok to hunker down on the couch in sweats any my hoodie, eating cookie dough and watching Lifetime and Hallmark channels all weekend. All those movies have the same damn plot. Some broad comes to some small town and saves Xmas.  Every damn time. Look, if you’re gonna watch this tripe at least do this. 

I might even watch with you. Especially if the girl in the movie is hot. Which happens quite often; just sayin’, fellas.

"This is the hand I jack off to you with."
"OK, ga-ross."

Last year, I forced myself to sit down and actually watch one of these Lifetime Xmas movies.

There Are People Who Think Die Hard Is Not a Xmas Movie. These people are to be avoided. For some, it doesn’t feel like the holiday season starts till they see Santa at the Macy’s parade. For people like me, the holidays don’t start till Hans Gruber is plummeting from Nakatomi Plaza. (SPOLIER ALERT! Oh, wait, I should have said that sooner? Screw that, the movie is like 40 years old.)

"But I still have Bed Bath & Beyond coupons! They're 20 per centtttttttt"

Your Family Always Has That One Weird Aunt or Uncle. What’s that you say? Your family doesn’t have one? Hate to break the news to you…

It's like looking in a mirror.

The Songs All Blow. How many freaking times do you need to hear GD Jingle Bells? Enough already! Just who the hell is "decking their halls?" And where do they get the boughs of holly? If Grandma wants to live by herself in the woods, she can stay there. Where’s all the GD Halloween songs?

Ugly Sweater Parties vs Halloween Parties. You decide where you'd rather be.

BYOOIINNGGGGG!!!

The Ugly Sweater Thing Is Over and Done. It used to be fun when you had to scour thrift stores for legit ugly sweaters that, at one time, someone thought passed for formal wear. Now, you can find premade ugly sweaters from your favorite team, band, movie, etc. Much like redheads, these sweaters are soulless. I blame the slacker hipsters for ruining this one.

Yea, we get it. You didn't even try.

There Is No Return on Investment. Like, literally. I’m not smart with money at all, and even I figured this out. Hate to be cold here, but Xmas lasts exactly as long as there are unopened presents. Once all the presents are opened, kiss my ass, I’m playing with all my new toys and games. It’s what Santa wants.

Think of all the time you spend running to stores to find “the perfect gift.” Think of the hours you spend  shopping on the computer when you could be doing better things, like reading this here blog. Then there’s all the wrapping. And, hey, let’s throw in a few parties we don’t want to go to. And let’s house all these cookies and bullshit. And Xmas is literally over in a flash. Presents opened. It’s the 26^th and you’re back to work because you blew what little paid time off you had in the summer on “mental health days.” Ho ho ho, dipshit.

Yes, OK, I know, Xmas is more than that. It’s the traditions. It’s the food. It’s the family and friends. But here’s my dream Xmas morning. Sleep late. Have traditional Xmas waffles. Open presents. See family for as long as I can tolerate, while trying to figure out who our weird uncle is. Return home and bask in my presents. Watch A Christmas Story a few more times.

The Santa Thing is Getting Kind of Creepy. As someone who doesn’t have children (you’re all welcome.), isn’t this everything you breeders tell your kids not to do? Let me get this straight. You take your spawn to meet an old man-a stranger- in the mall? Then you tell little Johnny or Neaveh (and enough with that name, BTW.) to sit on the strange man’s lap? Wha wha WHA? And said old man-rumored to be an actual saint in some corners-promises to lay lavish gifts on the child if they’re “good?” He sees them when they’re sleeping, he knows when they’ve been naughty or nice? Then, jolly old Santa breaks into your house? Um, excuse me a minute as I get on top of my soapbox here:

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE????

That scenario is far scarier than anything on Halloween. Next thing you’ll tell me is there is some creepy fairy that pays them for discarded body parts.

The Hustle and Bustle Sucks. First off, at what other time of year do we use the term “bustle? ”Just what is bustle and why does it get into my hedgerow?  For 4 or 5 weeks, all these nudnicks get in my way; in the store, in the supermarket, in the liquor store, on the roads. Get out of my GD way. And where’s my jetpack? I was told we’d have jetpacks by now.

Enough With the Fake Niceness. Yes, we’re all supposed to be happy and full of the holiday spirit. But what is worse is the people who pretend to have it. They go way over the top to mask their massive unhappiness of being surrounded by assholes for a month. I feel ya there. (That’s what she said.)

Xmas Trees Support the Deforestation of the Planet. You monsters.

Merry Frickin' Xmas, jackals.

Xmas Is Just Rampant Consumerism. Sheeple! You’re only funding the multi-national corporations. Plus, I had the Kevolution Theory Bureau of Statistics tell me that 64% of Xmas gifts never get used properly. 64%! That’s like almost 65%! Yay! Let’s get more crap we don’t need!

You know what we should be doing instead? Giving to charity. Does Cousin Dupree really need a $20 novelty piece of shit you picked up last minute from the Kohls because you forgot he existed? No. Your money is far better spent-as well as karma earned-if you throw a couple of bucks to Music and Memory, who helps people like Henry.

Mistletoe. In this climate we’re living in, how is mistletoe even still a thing? What horny old man-and you KNOW it was a horny old man-came up with this? It was probably some pervy ol’ mistletoe farmer, if such an occupation ever existed. “I know, I’ll invent some custom where I hang mistletoe up. And any pretty ol' lady that wanders under it will have to get a peck on the cheek. And then I jam my tongue down her throat! Brilliant!” How are all these uppity social justice warriors not raging against stores that sell mistletoe, mistletoe balls or even the classy mistletoe belt buckle? Which I may or may not be wearing right now. Ladies? Ladies? Hello?

The Car Commercials. OK, quick impromptu poll. By a show of hands-preferably the one not holding your drink-have you ever gifted anyone with a car?

(No hands raised.)

Uh huh, uh huh. Ok, class, again by a show of hands, have you ever been given a car for Xmas?

(Still no hands raised.)

Ah hah! As I thought. The Kevolution Theory Bureau of Statistics show none of us have ever gotten a new car for Xmas. Can we please get rid of these offensively unrealistic car commercials? (In fact, this will be part of my presidential platform. #VoteForKev2020) In what Valhalla do these families exist where they buy cars for each other? And if you notice, the people still get regular presents in the house! WTF is this madness? Wouldn’t you be kinda pissed that your spouse somehow took out enough money under your nose, they could buy you a car and you never even realized the money was gone? I have a theory about these commercial couples; the one that bought the car has been having/wants to have an affair with the neighbor. The car is just a way to soothe their conscience. Try watching those commercials now, you cheating bastard.

No One Eats Candy Canes Anymore. I have another theory that there hasn’t been a new candy cane made in years. They just recycle the ones no one wanted this year for next. Kinda like the salad at your favorite restaurant.

Tastes like 2016.

Xmas Cards. Again, what a spectacular waste of resources. If you send me a Xmas card, you should just address it to Kevolution Theory Trashcan so the mailman knows where to put it. I don’t even open them. I don’t send them. I truly don’t care if you send me a card, we’re square either way. Just don’t expect a Xmas card from me. Or a birthday card. Or a Father’s Day card. Or a condolence card. I say the same things about holidays as I do when I bounce; Kev don’t card.

Speaking of cards, enough with the creepy cards of just your kids. Chances are I barely know you, so why the blue hell do I wanna see your kids? I want to see YOU. What you look like now. I want to see who you married. Yes, it’s shallow, but it’s human nature. Whenever you send a card with your kids, you are telling the world, “I am now repugnant, hopefully my kids won’t end up like me.” You have given up in life. May god have mercy on your children.

Reindeer Boob. Yea, you’d think I’d be all about the wimmen folk exposing their boobs. Plus, I’m a pretty big perv, too. (Yes, I really am wearing a mistle toe belt buckle now, and no one in this book store seems to be obliging.) But I don’t know how I feel about this one yet.

A lil' somethin' for the ladies.

So, did I miss anything?

The Asshole Hustle

As a point of reference, as I write this, it is just past 4PM on November 22^nd. It is the day before Thanksgiving. AKA, the biggest party night of the year. Might as well get one more good belt in before hanging with the fam for a day or two. And to be honest, I am already on my fourth rum and coke. I guess no one at this Barnes and Noble seems to find it odd. Nor do they find it odd I am clearly drinking in the children’s section. But, as I look around, I see plenty of the other breeders are doing the same thing. We occasionally nod to each other as if to say, “You’re cool here, brother. This is a safe space.” I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one here without actual children, but it does beg the question if the rest of them are pedos. So, what was the point of this blog?

Oh, yea, my new racket..um…hustle, umm  job. Let’s be honest, the evolution of real jobs over the last few years has been pretty wild. In this digital age, we now have professional cuddlers, Instagram picture takers,or sleeping on stranger’s floors. Hell, it seems like it was only a few years ago, our parents were telling us to never get in a stranger’s car. Nowadays, we hop on this mystical little device, and direct strangers to our exact location-often times, our own home-and willingly get in their car and have them drive us somewhere. They know our names and info. Progress?

In that entrepreneurial spirit, I have identified a need that needs filling. (That’s what needs do, they need stuff. That’s why they are a need.) And it’s a need I am particularly skilled in. You need a drunken asshole? I’m your man! Perhaps a few examples:

How many times have you found yourself in this scenario. A buddy says to you, “Hey, you doing anything tonight? Mike is having a party.” Being the pro you are, you ask, “Is DT going to be there?” Now, this DT character is someone we all know. The initials are meaningless, but they are always there. DT is often a male. (In cases when it’s a girl, the initials rule applies, but, also a caveat. The moniker “Crazy” might be applied. For example, Crazy Alanis or Crazy Steph. If you are a guy, dating Crazy is often adventurous.)

Yup, makes sense.

 He often goes by his initials. Sure, DJs are common. You might get other names like JT, JD, HM. Sometimes, more random initials like, J Dub (instead of the many syllabled W), PA. The initials are not as important as the character. DT is the guy who brings the party. DT is the guy you can just meet for a quick bite at Applebee’s on a Tuesday night, then wake up in an Atlantic City hotel room on Thursday. And you live in Wisconsin. DT will often show up dressed fairly nice, but as the night progresses, he loses his sport coat, his shirt becomes untucked and he is wearing glowing beads of some sort. Everyone loves DT. You wouldn’t trust him with a $10 loan, but when everyone gets their party on, everyone becomes best friends with DT. Parties are better with DT. Because he always gets drunker than everyone else. No matter how shit faced you get, DT gets more shit faced. No one remembers you tore the toilet paper holder off the wall of the guest bathroom because DT poured a margarita into the aquarium, then used a straw to drink it out. Ah, crazy ol’ DT being DT.

You’re asking if DT will be there, because that gauges your level of raging. If DT is there, you can safely get shitfaced, because the spotlight will be on DT. So, in a Choose Your Own Adventure style, it would look like this.

Is DT coming? If yes, flip to page 89

Page 89: “Great, I can safely get tuned. No worries.”

Is DT coming? If no, flip to page 91

Page 91:” Cue the fail horn! “Damn it, looks like I’m on Miller Lite all night.”

And, that, my friends is where I come in. If there’s one thing I have experience in, it’s being a drunken asshole. So why not make a living at it? You need more convincing? Man, when did you guys get to be such hardasses? Fine.

Here’s your real-world scenario. You’ve had a long week. Your fantasy team lost. Work was donkey balls. You just want to unwind. There’s a happy hour Friday night. You do your due diligence, and DT won’t be there. You want to get carelessly shitfaced. What’s one to do?

Call me!

Yup, my side hustle-as the kids all call it nowadays-is to be a raging, drunken asshole. A stretch, I know, but please let me elaborate. I will meet you at the event site; bar, country club, office Xmas party, Aunt Gladys’ funeral. Though, please note, the more formal the event, there will be a sliding fee to cover me getting all dressed up. You’re talking to a guy who does his best work in jeans and a t-shirt. Regardless, it will be my job to act like it’s a typical Tuesday afternoon; i.e  get blackout drunk and wake up in shame but hopefully at least my own bed. You can go get as sloshed as you want. I’ll be funneling Jager bombs with all the kids. And while I’m all stumbling around, you’ll be happily, invisibly toasted and no one will ever know because I am swinging off a chandelier wearing someone else’s shoes. Aw, ‘dat crazy KT!

Now, look, you all can realize this is a ROCK SOLID service I offer, and I suspect many of my ne’er-do-well readers will be hitting me up at @ifyouseekev to inquire of my services. But, it doesn’t stop there. No, no, no. This is Kev Theory we’re talking about here. While this is already an invaluable service, I am offering, you should be expecting more from me. And, I gotcha covered.

Maybe because I am now 7 drinks into my evening. Maybe because Evil Kev is starting to come out to play. Maybe because there are now actually kids here in the kid’s section. WTF? But I will offer many different levels of services. Depravity has many bounds.

Let’s be honest. You have your own motives. They may be pure, they may be evil. Frankly, I don’t care. I am an uncaring assassin. I’ve watched enough Jason Statham movies to understand. 

This tastes like steroids. With a dash of HGH. And strawberries!

So, let’s say there is an event you want to get out of. HMU. Is there a wedding on the horizon that might conflict with the prospect of NOT going to a wedding you don’t want to go to? I can make that happen. Invite me to a family gathering beforehand. Tell me who to piss off, and I can do that. Just ask my Uncle Lou. Because he won’t speak to me, but SEE? That’s my point. Screw him for getting married to some trollop the same Saturday as the Preakness. Or was it the Belmont? I don’t remember; I don’t follow horse racing all that closely.

OK, so that may be evil. But I specialize in tough love. Sometimes, the ones you love need to hear a message loud and clear. I gotcha. Let’s say there is a wedding coming up, and you don’t agree with the bride of choice. You hire me. You give me all the facts. (in my biz, we call this a dossier, but no need to bog down the minds of all the commoners) You tell me who to talk to and what to say. You bring me to a family event. Wind up my string (fill me up with liquor, because that gets to the truth a lot quicker than beer) and set me off. “Hey, are you Craig? You’re getting married soon, right? To, uhh, whatsherface? Right, right. Hey, look man, I know I don’t know you, but (defers to script given to me) Hello lost deposits! And hello Jen, the bridesmaid. Also, you get that free weekend off.

Maybe you don’t like your boss. Psyche! Who doesn’t like their boss? What better way to give them a piece of your mind-safely-than by letting me tell him/her off? Invite me to the office golf outing. Tell me what you want this douche bag to hear. Then stand back as I level him/her with your own words! It’s like all those cheesy teen age rom-com movies where the guy in the bushes-who is secretly in love with the girl hanging out the window-tells the guy standing in the open what to say! (OK, I know that’s a roundabout simile, but y’all know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout here.) In the end, I get tossed out, you can claim ignorance, and your boss hears the shit they need to hear. In fact, they may even become a better person! GD, sport, you’re such a good person! Ask for that raise!

Jesus, I need to advertise this better on Craigslist. Maybe buy a sponsored shot on LinkedIn.

I’m not only Next Level, I have all this shit thought out. Through all of this, you rational thinkers should be saying, “But under what guise, Kev Theory? On WHAT GROUNDS? That is a fair question. And if I wasn’t now 12 drinks into my night and wondering how I got into the erotica section of this B&N, I would have addressed this earlier. Again, all my rational thinking readers are now saying, “Well, K Theory, if you were a better writer…”  To which, I intelligently respond…well..um….

Fuck you.

Going back to the hanging question, just how do I get invited to all these events? The answer is simple. The answer is… (skip to the scene of a clock advancing 5 minutes) whatever makes the most sense. Invite me as your friend. I’ll be a coworker. Or an old college buddy.  We used to play hockey together. You a girl? Invite me as your date. You a guy? Invite me as your date. I got both ears pierced, so I can pull off either. That’s dedication! Though truth be told, I’ve skipped through enough Lifetime Xmas movies to know how “pretending” I’m your date usually ends up, so try to keep your walls up against my smoldering hotness. Actually, in all reality, it won’t be that hard.

So there you go. If anyone knows Ashston Kutcher, who likes to invest into ultracool web startups, he can DM me @ifyouseekev. If anyone knows Mila Kunis, then tell her to email me at ifyouseekev@gmail.com. Just because. The rest of you can spread the word or invest.

Happy Thanksgiving! Rates go up in 10 minutes.

DVD Extra

This entire post is based on what I thought was a throwaway FB post that went like this:

Hey guys!

Don’t feel like being the drunken asshole at all your gatherings this holiday weekend? Well, good news! My services are still available! Hire me to come in and be the raging asshole, so all the attention is taken off of you!

PM me for reasonable rates and enjoy yourself this weekend!

References available upon request. Many, many references.

A sincere, heartfelt thanks for all those who liked than and spurred me onto the above post.

Why Can't We Have a War Against Black Friday?

The war on drugs. The war on terror. The war on Xmas. It seems all we do these days is squabble (you’ve watched cable sports networks in the morning and afternoon, right?) and argue. We are so easily divided. Politics, racism, sexism, sports, soda brands, Twilight characters, Sammy vs. Dave, literature, news. And when we’re not arguing, we’re actually going to war. The war on drugs. The war on terror. The war on Xmas. We need to all get on the same page here, kids. And-surprise-we can do that by going to war. The time is now to align forces and finally wage war on one of the most evil events in our lifetime.

 Yes, citizens (of earth!), batten down whatever hatches are, it’s time we go to war against Black Friday.

(Alas, it seems I generally write this same thing every year, but every year, most of you nudniks ignore my advice. So, please pay attention so I can go back to my strong suit of sex, drinking and humor. BTW, “strong suit of sex” is just about any suit I wear, if ya know what I mean.)

Did you know there’s actually a holiday before Xmas? Over the last few years, it’s been a mere speed bump on the way to massive and unnecessary rampant consumerism. It’s like we’ve also lost the point of the holiday of Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is the day families get together, pretend to like each other and eat like feral pigs. Turns out what we should be celebrating on Tgiving is the day this great country was discovered. Even though there were other people living here. Some think we should no longer celebrate this holiday as it celebrates the day we swindled this country away from the Indians. That’s a blog for another day, there’s only so much angst I can muster up as I write this blog. Ultimately, we should feel no pity as the Indians got their revenge by turning us into problem gamblers. I am sure they already have a holiday commemorating that.

"I'll never win if the damn dealing keeping giving me Uno cards!"

We need to focus our efforts here. Let’s not get caught up in the semantics of “Merry Xmas” vs “Happy Holidays.” We have already moved beyond this being an actual ‘holy season.’ That line was crossed and battle lost years ago. This is no longer about the birth of our/yours/someone else’s lord. This is not the place for our individual religious thoughts. In fact, just about every religion approves this crusade. I checked, I swear.

Yes, this is the time of year every website runs a blog about the war on Xmas. Ho hum and bah humbug. But the bigger, more sinister enemy here is Black Friday. Let’s look at some facts. First of all, it’s about time to admit that BLACK FRIDAY IS NO LONGER A THING!11! Yes, sure, BF used to be a thing; back when Roebuck was still with Sears, Kmart sold smokes and I had dreams of being a professional writer. It just doesn’t exist anymore, despite what all the retailers would have you think. Black Friday is for people who never used Amazon. Or eBay. Or Honey. Or RetailMeNot. Or Groupon. Or a phone that is not hardwired to the wall.

Let’s take a brief trip back in time; before Louis CK, Kevin Spacey and George Takei were the bad guys. Take me back to Black Friday 2016. How much money did you save? Whatever you bought, is it still being used today? Did the $5 Blu Ray ever escape the shrink wrap? Hell. Do you even remember what you bought, let alone if it ever became of any use to anyone?

Look,” you people”

that just HAVE to go shopping on Tgiving night are inconsiderate, raging assholes. Now, I can see you getting all in a hissy fit –you really should turn off the camera in your PC-so let me explain. I’m not gonna present a problem without a solution. BTW, you assholes know you are the “problem” part in this equation, right?

First of all you are blowing off your family. And look, if I have to suffer, we ALL have to suffer. “But Kev, I spend Tgiving with my in-laws. My INLAWS!” Yes, I hear that a lot, and yes, I get your point. But that’s what the Jim Beam is for, and if you play your cards right, you won’t get invited back next year. Or ever. Plus, if you are one of my Southern readers, that one cousin is looking pretty hot.

Literally, the first image that shows up as "hot cousin"

Secondly, because you HAVE to rush out and save $2 on a dozen pair of socks, you are denying someone else of their Tgiving. Newsflash, you fucking ignoramus; those are real, living, feeling people working in the Targets, Best Buys, Walmarts and malls.

Now, stop rolling your eyes about the “level of talent” that works at Walmart. Talk shit all you want. In previous lives, before I got elected for another term-I spent some time with the employees in these stores. And these people are mothers, fathers, uncles, sisters, etc. And all for the corporate empire that you fucktards go fuel, these poor folks have to forgo their family dinner so they can deal with your ignorant ass. If a store opens at 6PM, do you think all the elves just stroll in at 5:55? No, dunderhead, they have to be there hours before, setting things up, moving things around and mentally preparing for The Onslaught of The Ignorant. And at 6PM, the mindless herd floods in. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

What shouldn’t be lost on you is that the people who make these decisions to open stores on Tgiving night, do you know where they are? Do you know what they do? They fucking sit at home with their fucking families. Probably figuring out a way to expense their Tgiving dinner and probably tapping their fingers like Mr. Burns all night.

The sheep, they come to me.

And Friday morning they sleep in while all their poor underlings work a ridiculous amount of hours for Black Weekend. Now, I will be the first to admit I have a heart as black as the night two miles inside a tunnel, but even ME thinks this is highly unfair. But, hey, you need to buy that piece of rapidly declining technology.

Here’s some more pipebombs; did you know just about any store you would choose to patronize on Black Thursday has this thing called a website? And did you know, more times than not, all those shiny BF deals can actually be had on said website? And usually you can get said, shiny deal anytime the week of BF? So you could actually dayload on Wednesday –or Tuesday, no judgement here-and do all your BF shopping online! Look at you being a decent human being! Go ahead and order yourself another Moscow Mule, son, you’ve earned it. Also, early reconnaissance says the Moscow Mule must be losing favor as the trendy drink by the abundance on Moscow Mule gift sets available everywhere.

And hey, if you’re now feeling all good about yourself, if you do have to go shop, how about sleeping in a bit, then supporting local, independent businesses? You have my permission. Also, I should note it is Record Store Day. You have my blessing to go support these fine, fine independent merchants. But if I hear you’re actually buying Xmas music, I will hunt you down and kick you in the balls. Don’t be a dipshit.

If you are not offended by all the Xmas commercials than have been airing since October 10^th, you just are not paying attention. Have you noticed what all these “holiday” commercials are saying? That your Xmas isn’t shit until you open up that last present (the subliminal message being all your other presents are shit) from Best Buy. Or that you haven’t had a good holiday till someone buys you a car. Wha wha what!?!

A car! Fuck you, evil multinational company. If I can spend most of the day sleeping, drinking egg nog and watching A Christmas Story over and over, it’s been a pretty good Yule at the Theory house. (Speaking of ACS, Fox can go fuck itself if they think I’m going to watch their abortion of a version of it.)

Really, that’s what makes Xmas “successful” these days; oodles and oodles of presents? There always has to be one “last” one or one “big” one. This rationale is why America is hated. It’s always more, more, MOAR!1!1 Be like a pig and be happy with the shit you already have. I have a shelf of DVDs I will never watch, a closet full of clothes I will never wear and a bunch of books with big, scary words that I will never read. Why do I need more?

If I wasn’t planning on being shitfaced drunk Tgiving night (Hey, don’t blame me, it’s a Theory family tradition and how we all tolerate ourselves for a few hours) I would go out and interview these nutcases who are waiting outside of stores on Tgiving Day. Here are some of the questions I would ask these brain surgeons:

If you waited outside a Best Buy last Tgiving, what did you wait for?

Random hot Santa girl, because...um...

Can I get a quick hummer in the backseat of my car? (Note; only asked to drunk girls who would still otherwise be attainable)

Where is your self-respect, man?

Does your tent have a bathroom, because you sure smell like shit?

What’s so motherfucking important that you motherfucking have to ruin someone else’s motherfucking Tgiving?

You know this store is generally open 363 other days of the year, right?

What’s more important; a shitty TV for $5 less or your dignity? Wait, stop, I think I already know the answer.

I’m guessing no one in your family is missing you right now.

Can you please tell me where you work? I want to drag your ass in buttcrack early on a holiday, and trash the place. I might be a little bit tipsy, too. But you’re probably cool with that.

I double dog dare you, NO, I triple dog dare you to take some of this money you’re saving and put it in the red bucket over there. Your move, Mr. Christmas.

“Boy, the line for the Asshole Meet Up sure is long today.”

Every piece of technology you’re buying today will most likely be obsolete by next year.

You’re the reason we lost the election.

You are why the terrorists hate us. Yes, YOU! (Shove my finger into their chest.)

You know this Best Buy opened up at 6 AM this morning and sold out all of the doorbusters, right?

Again, please, I beg of you, DO NOT go shopping on Tgiving night. Don’t be a sheep. Make a stand, at least one time in your miserable life. Just because you may have a job where you annually score this weekend off doesn’t entitle you to be an asshole to someone else on a holiday. Sit this one out, spend time with family and friends-at least the ones you can tolerate. But if you still feel the need to drunkenly and recklessly spend your money, please do so at any of the below links. I assure you, it’s easy, the money means a lot more and goes a lot further and it is actually something that is truly in “the spirit of the holidays.”

Alive Inside

Dale Earnhardt Foundation

Rape Abuse & Incest National Network

Community Crisis Services, Inc.

Philadelphia Animal Welfare Society