It's Always Sunny in Orono, ME

Denis Leary: Exactly The Guy You Think He Is

2011-07-31T11:01:00.015-04:00

The waves at Cisco Beach on Nantucket were perfect for boogie boarding, and my girlfriend's brother Bruce and I couldn't set our beach chairs down fast enough. All around us, excited beach goers were either swimming or laying out on towels, enjoying the beautiful weather that only the last Saturday in July can bring.

We grabbed our boards and gingerly waded into the welcoming sea. A few timid steps and Shark Week anecdotes later, we found ourselves taking full advantage of the bountiful surf being bestowed upon us.

Going to the beach can be the focal point of any vacation. However, I've noticed that there are three guaranteed universal truths that apply to every single beach going experience which will severely hinder your capacity to have a good time. No matter who you are, or where you're from, you cannot avoid these three annoying and inevitable beach situations.

First things first. While at the beach I guarantee some fucking kid around you is going to pick up his towel and flap it around in the wind, sending sand and rocks and Civil War shrapnel flying in the general vicinity of your ear nose and throat. His parents will offer some less than sincere apology, give the little rascal a halfhearted admonishment, and you'll be left wishing you were sitting next to Casey Anthony instead.

Secondly, accept that you are going to fuck up the sunblock application. You could be using 100 SPF, water-proof, sweat-proof, nuclear-holocaust-proof lotion, and applying every 20 minutes, but I guarantee you are going to come home with burns on your index finger, tops of your feet, and your ears.

Lastly, I guarantee you'll encounter that annoying guy in the water who holds absolute autocratic authority over his group in determining which waves to try and boogie board, and which waves to skip. You may hear him say helpful things like, "No not this one guys, the next one. The next one is huge!" and "Oh, nevermind we should have taken the first one".

Sometimes this boogie board guru will have a thick Central Massachusetts accent, a long, flowing strawberry blond mane of hair, and an aging 53 year old Irish Catholic body covered in freckles.

Yup. The beach was very crowded, yet I was in disbelief that at that very moment the great actor/comedian and local legend Denis Leary was swimming right next to me...almost like he was like a regular person.

Struggling to comprehend the situation, and assuming my senses were betraying me, I continued about my business as if I'd seen nothing, eventually returning to my beach chair to better assess the situation. A few minutes later, I watched as Denis Leary returned to his seat on the beach...directly to the back and right of us, maybe a first down away.

Now listen. For the record, I think Rescue Me was a brilliant show. Especially the first couple of seasons. But somewhere along the line and definitely before this last season, I really stopped giving a fuck. Actually, what really made me a fan was hearing him and Lenny Clarke in the Sox broadcast booths in 2006. I remember my buddy TPiddy and I crying laughing on Rt. 1, listening to them on WEEI playing off of the legendary Joe Castiglione. They were doing a bit about Tigers 3rd baseman Placido Polanco and his stupid name that brought us to tears. And of course their appearance on NESN that summer was truly comedic gold as well.

I moved to Nantucket in May to live with my beautiful girlfriend, and because of that, I don't get a chance to see my friends very much anymore. I knew I didn't want to be that nettlesome superfan that disrupts the guy's vacation, but I don't know. I really wanted a picture with him. Just something to make my friends a little jealous.

Denis is a huge homer, which is one of the reason I think he is so popular around here. He wears his Boston sports patronage on his sleeve, and I wear my pride literally on mine, so naturally I thought we had at least one thing in common, and that was enough for me. "I'll snap a quick picture and get out of his business", I thought.

But then the doubts started creeping in. He's a gritty comic with edgy material, and he can play an asshole on the small screen better than anyone I've ever seen. Listen. It's one thing to ask Michael Scott for a picture... it's quite another to ask Tommy Gavin. I was very, very nervous.

For probably 20 minutes I sat there with my phone in my lap, testing the camera quality on the random people walking by, cleaning the lense, adjusting the brightness, and otherwise stalling anyway I could. All of a sudden, Denis stood up, and I pegged it as my opportunity to go up and get my picture.

Putting his lack of approachability aside, I managed to suck it up, put on an heir of confidence if you will, and walk on over as cool as I could (which granted, isn't very cool at all).

I said, "Mr. Leary?"

He looked at me. His son and what I assume are his son's friends looked at me. They were around my age. Everyone is looking at me.

Then he said, with more than a hint of disdain in his voice, "Yeah?"

My heart is racing, because already the situation is playing out differently than it did in my head.

"Hi my name is Brett," I said, extending my hand.

He grabbed it and firmly, but slowly shook it.

"I'm sorry to bother you, I just wanted to let you know I'm a big fan of Rescue Me."

That's right. I used the most hack, unoriginal, "I'm a big fan of 'Insert Show Here'" line, but that's all I could muster up.

Clearly not humbled by my high praise, and wanting me to get to the point, he responded annoyed, "Okay..."

"I was hoping to get a quick picture if I could"

And with the same tone you'd use to patronize a child with, he said, "If I took a picture with you, then everyone on the beach would want a picture. And we can't have that now can we?"

I said, "No sir, we don't want that. Alright well it was nice meeting you"

And I slinked back the 15 steps back to my seat. Dejected, demoralized and downtrodden.

What a fucking sheep I am.

Completely embarrassed, I sat down and pretended like it didn't happen.

I liken it to the shame you feel after asking a girl out and having her say, "Nahhh, I'm good" and then laughing with her friends about it.

The worst part of this entire encounter is that I sat in his direct eye line...between him, and the beach. I can't bring myself to look past my peripheral.

Bruce leans over and asks, "How'd it go?"

"He said no."

"What?"

"He said no", I repeated.

"What an asshole. You know what you should do? When we leave you should tell everyone on the beach where he's sitting."

So that's what I did. I packed up our stuff, stood up and proclaimed to the entire beach "Nice to meet you...DENIS LEARY".

That asshole had it coming. Hell hath no fury like a fan scorned.

On our way out, everyone I passed I felt obligated to stop them, tell them where Denis Leary was sitting, remind them who Denis Leary was, then move on to the next group.

The first large group I passed was of about nine 21 year old girls laying out on towels.

"Hey, do you guys know who Denis Leary is?"

"Yeah that's that guy from Rescue Me right?", one of the girls said.

"Yup. He's sitting right over there. See? I just got a picture with him. He loves meeting his fans."

"Oh my God thank you for telling us. I love Denis Leary!", they said

So I did it again. And again.

How long does it take to snap a fucking picture? 2/3rds of the encounter was already over, it would have taken another 8 seconds maybe? And the entire rest of the time we were there, not one other person came up to him, maybe a testament to what an asshole he is.

This fucking guy had the hubris and ego to send the one fan he had on the whole fucking beach home with his tail between his legs.

I guess I learned that Denis Leary, although he swims and boogie boards like a regular person, isn't such a regular person after all.

"The Fucking Milford Cunt"

2011-04-15T17:06:00.000-04:00

There is a woman in my life right now that I cannot find the words to describe. It is hard for me to even believe that she actually exists. This woman is the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing i think about before I go to sleep.

And I know you're probably thinking "Aww cute hes going to talk about his girlfriend Laura. How nice". Negative. Let me explain.

A few years ago after my parents got divorced, my mother moved to Florida and my dad, sister and I moved to Plainville. My dad is a great guy by all accounts. Wicked fun to be around, good sense of humor, family man, makes good money. A catch.

When this broad fell into his lap he was on the rebound, looking for someone to fill the void with. She would become the very definition of settling.

Meet Julie. Or, as my grandmother calls her...

"The Fucking Milford Cunt"

Picture my sweet little 78 year old grandmother calling someone a cunt. Up until that point in my life I had never even heard her swear. (Her pseudo-swears of choice include "Holy buckwheat!", "You little twit!", and "Pardon my French but he's a real jerk!", ) How's that for foreshadowing.

Julie is in her late 40's, big tits, fat ass, busted face. Apparently she's got a debilitating back injury, which causes her to pop like 26 Vicodin a day. Even Michael Jackson would be like "dude, easy on the Vicodin".

I returned from college in the summer of '08 to find that Julie had moved into our house. Ok, fine. The only thing that really bothered me about her was the way she baby talked to her fucking dog. I can't even type this without cringing.

"Bruin wanna go 'side? Who wants to go 'side? Did you have a good day today? Did you miss mumma? Awwww mumma LUVS you! Give mumma kisses!"

So that summer my father Julie and I started looking for houses together. So long story short we found one in Norfolk, moved all of our stuff in and I went off to school in the fall.

When I came back from school this summer, something changed. Maybe I just never noticed it before, maybe it's because she's possessive about her half of a house she owns, but holy fucking shit. I have never, ever, ever seen anyone like her. Rather than even try to explain her, I'm going to play a little game.

I'm going to give you a list of behaviors that would indicate a completely psychotic, sociopathic, obsessive compulsive person. You tell me which ones are real, and which ones I made up. Ready?

My name is Julie...

#1 I hired a cleaning lady to come clean the house every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but I still vacuum at least once a day, including during dinner.

#2 I scrub the stove, counter tops, and microwave out with harsh chemicals every day, regardless of whether or not they were used.

#3 I rarely leave the house, because I now work from home to protect my house. I often spend the entire day in my housecoat in front of the television watching Two and a Half Men. Although Brett bought his father a High Definition cable box for Christmas, I can't tell the difference at all, so I canceled the service.

#4 One day when I was emptying the dishwasher, I noticed that there were only four plates in it. When I added that to the number of plates in the cupboard, I noticed that one was missing. So I opened Brett's bedroom door and looked through his things and found where he had hidden it....behind his television.

#5 Last night I painted the pantry doors. I didn't see any signs of wear, but I figured it could use a fresh coat.

#6 Despite my crippling back pain, I have slept on the couch in the living room every single night since Brett's been home from college, because I don't want him using the living room and messing it up.

#7 Ever since i made the kitchen table off limits, Brett and Gary have been eating their food on the island in the kitchen standing up. Sometimes they eat so slow they interfere with my cleaning! I usually make them lift their plates while i scrub underneath them.

#8 I put a large beach towel over every rug thats in front of a door, because I do not trust the rug's ability to stop dirt from entering my home.

#9 If we do have a guest over, I usually make them wait outside, because I do not trust the towel or rug's ability to stop dirt from entering my home.

#10 I like having everyone in the house be aware that I do not digest food well. I keep all my "aids" in Brett's bathroom closet for him to go in and write down the names of each one with a pencil, look up the ones he doesn't know, and put them in his blog.

Publix Fiber Therapy (stool hardener)
Correctol (stool softener)
Perdium (laxative)
Senna Tab (herbal laxative)
Phayzme (gas relief)
Dairy Digestive Supplement (prevents diarrhea)
Acidophilus (prevents vaginal yeast infections, as well as diarrhea)
Zovirax (synthetic topical herpes medication)
Tucks (hemorrhoidal ointment)
Lamasil (anti fungal)

#11 When Michelle's friends spend the night, they eat all my food and mess up my living room. The cushions are not where I put them. God those little cunts.

#12 I finally met Brett's girlfriend Laura this summer. I wasn't really concerned about making a good impression. Instead I had a few drinks and kept calling Michelle's friends little cunts. Although Laura looked very uncomfortable, I couldn't stop using the word 'cunt'. I was on a roll!

#13 When I have my period, I sometimes just throw my used tampon in the trash in the bathroom. Then my little dog gets into them and drags them all over the house for Brett to step on. Isn't he cute!

#14 Since I've been sleeping downstairs on the couch every night, I haven't really made myself available to Gary. That is why I bought a large purple vibrator and keep it hidden in one of the compartments of the coffee table under a bunch of magazines. I use it occasionally, including the other night when Brett came downstairs for a midnight snack. I hope he didn't see or hear me!

Can you imagine living like that? You want to kill yourself yet? Welcome to my hell. Every single one of those is 100% real.

Apart from all that Julie is a pleasure to be around.

The Night I Gelled My Hair (PART 1 of 2)

2011-03-22T14:10:00.000-04:00

*Prologue: Much like "The Fucking Milford Cunt" article, this one has been eating away at me, day and night, until I finally sat down and got it on paper. It is unquestionably the most bizarre night of my life. I have a few more stories that are having the same effect on me, so as much as I try and suppress them, I may end up caving to them as well. This is going to be a long one, but it's worth it. Part II coming soon. Enjoy.*

I have never really been one to focus too hard on my appearance. I'm naturally very beautiful, so I figure doing anything earthly to my body is like slapping God in the face.

I do laundry about as often as the Ryder Cup. My showering habits some might call "infrequent". My motto on showering is if I can't smell myself, neither can you. But I'm often wrong about this.

One time me and Grahambo were on a quest to buy new hats at Ocean State Job Lot. Have you ever been there? It's fucking sweet man. You never know what you're gonna find. In terms of variety of headwear, it's the most awesome assortment of antiquated hats imaginable.

It's a little like being an African child watching as the Peace Corpse dumps all the hats America doesn't want out of their helicopter and onto your mughandubaduoa (house) .

There are hats celebrating every minor achievement in sports, from an '06 NFC Wildcard hat to the 2003 NCAA Midwest Regional champs commemorative hat. Sure it's dated and esoteric but it's got some vintage, niche value. We each bought hats for $2 that we still wear to this day.

On the ride home Grahambo politely lamented, "I'm just telling you this for your own self-preservation...you fucking smell man".

But when I do go out I shower I get ready and I like to look good. Who doesn't? But if I'm sitting around in my house all day I'm letting my beard grow man. I'll put it this way: If my daily itinerary consists of rolling out of bed, packing a lip, firing up the 360 and throwing on the Stern Show, who the fuck am I trying to impress? KingSean69 can't smell me. I'm not that vain.

Just a side note on hats: I have more hats than Emelda Marcos has shoes. And I think they all suck. At one point I must have liked them enough to buy them but they all look like shit on me. I actually get envious when I see a guy wearing the shit out of a throwback 5950.

When it comes to hats, the honeymoon usually ends quickly, and then I'm on to new headwear. Substitute the word hat for cocaine and pornstars, and I'm very much like Charlie Sheen.

One weekend up here in Orono I felt like walking down to The Dime to check it out. I called up my buddies but they wanted no part. It's impossible to get anyone to go there. It's not an ideal college bar by any means, but considering my financial situation and the location, The Dime was a good option, and I had no problem going it alone.

My pregame routine is simple, and effective. I drink as much as I can in the last 10 minutes before leaving. That way, my buzz hits me just about the time I get to wherever I'm going. It's like taking a shot of steroids that kicks in just as you get to the gym.

So I showered up, musked up with some Polo Black, or as I call it, Sex Panther, and put on a nice oxford shit and jeans. Then I started drinking. Heavily. There is something about the prospect of not driving that allows my brain to send the proper drinking signals to my body. These signals were heard loud and clear.

Obviously, none of my fucking hats looked good with this shirt so after playing hat-roulette for a fucking half hour, I decided I'd gel my hair. I greased myself up real good and then spiked it up in the front. I even used a blowdryer for good measure. I'd never done this before, but I felt like a wily veteran. I remember thinking if AC Slater was there he would have been like "Nice hair preppy".

I took the footmobile down to The Dime, which is about a mile down the hill at a not-so-busy intersection. It basically connects civilization to the distant regions of presumably unexplored Indian territory. Literally the edge of the world.

The sidewalk was wet, sandy and black like a Gulf Coast seagull. Cars were passing me to my left and I felt like they were all staring at me, judging me for walking alone. Fuck, that's what I do.

My Masshole buddies and I torture pedestrians. It's our favorite roadtrip past time. We do everything from the classic honking and cursing, to throwing sandwiches at guys mowing their lawn, and eventually graduating to the gold standard "Go masterbate to men you fag" and "Nice baby you pedophile". That feeling of paranoia was fleeting however, because when I stumbled to the end of the street, there were no more cars.

I could hear the unmistakable sound of Jason Derulo playing upstairs. As I turned the corner for the entrance, I was aghast at how many people were outside smoking. There must have been a dozen people ripping butts outside. So I wafted away the smoke from my eyes, held the door open for a guy in a wheelchair, and got out my I.D. for the bouncer.

Christ dude, I talked about the eclectic assortment of hats at the Job Lot, you should have seen this Dime crowd. It was a fucking American melting pot. Young college kids, homeless drug addicts, old towney couples, and the local Penobscot Indian Tribe all came together to bond over the one thing they all have in common...their love for Taio Cruz and $2 well drinks.

You think your townies are bad? Please. They have nothing on Orono townies. From the unintelligent hick accent, to the faded Wal-Mart camouflage, to the underlying feeling of unfulfillment, jealousy and disdain from having to live in a college town, these guys are unpredictable and sometimes scary. They all work at the same mill, they all talk about their truck, and they are all cut from the same mold. The only thing that really varies is the amount of teeth.

I went up to the bar and immediately recognized the bartender from one of my classes. It was good to see a familiar face among the crowd.

Me: I didn't know you worked here.
Bartender: Hey whats up! I haven't seen you in class in a while!
Me: I've been...sick.
Bartender: What can I get for you?
Me: Two well vodka tonics.
Bartender: You want me to leave the tab open?
Me: No close it.

I did this for two reasons. First, whenever I'm this drunk I always leave my debit card at the bar. Always. And secondly, I trust my body. I am about two drinks away from what I call Prime Form.

Prime Form is the perfect amount of alcohol. It allows you to become God's gift to the world. Everything you say is gold, and everything you do is memorable.

However, that alcoholic sweet spot is very elusive and can sometimes be tricky to find, not unlike a salamander. Some nights you drink too slow, or you drink too much too fast, and can never attain the glorious state of mind where you become self-conscious of nothing. You feel like Mario after you get one of those flashing stars...just fucking invincible.

And with gel in my hair, no one could stop me. I grabbed my drinks and debit card, signed my check, and bid the bartender adieu, ready to start my solo adventure.

Upstairs there was a DJ, dance floor and another bar, so I wondered around talking to random people, until it finally hit.

I was talking to some guy, he was in mid-sentence when I just blurted out, "BORINGGGGG" and walked away.

I had no idea why, it was an impulse that I couldn't ignore. And if you know me, while I'm in this state of mind I am my own biggest fan. I need not an audience. That's what makes it so fun. It's not an act or a show to get attention and make my friends laugh. It's just me.

Back downstairs I went to find some fresh faces to mock. There was still a lot of people there, most were playing pool and standing around like idiots. I went up to this one townie woman, really uninspired looking with yellowish skin, not unlike a salamander.

I talked to her for a few minutes but my brain was telling me to push it farther and farther.

"You look like you could suck a meaaannn dick". That was the last thing I ever said at that bar.

She threw her glass of beer at me, and it shattered on the wall behind me.

She then started closed-fist wailing on my face.

I put my hands behind my back, so no one would wrongly interpret my defense as offense, and literally stuck out my jaw. It was as if I enjoyed it.

Getting reactions out of people is like a drug for me. And getting punched in the face repeatedly by some old chick I pissed off was strangely satisfying.

Before I knew it the bouncers were all over me and threw me out. Not her. Me. It was fucking ridiculous and it legitimately pissed me off. I took a beating like the late Arturo Gatti and they have the fucking nerve to throw me out?

But I honestly forgot about the whole thing when I saw the guy in the wheelchair...

Reindeer Games

2010-12-25T10:09:00.000-05:00

You know what's weird? Donner is actually Rudolph's father, yet they both work for Santa. If I was Donner I'd be like "Damnit son, your stupid red nose is glowing again." and he'd probably be like "STFU dad".

You always hear a bunch of shit about Rudolph, but literally nothing about the others. So I thought it would be a nice Christmas gesture to give the other reindeer some love.

Dasher - The newest member of the team, Dasher, has Autism. So grateful was he to be a part of this Christmas tradition, that he accepted the position of Anchor at the back of the sleigh. Which is fine, if you like animal fecal shit flying up in your face all the time. Or you don't even notice. Because you're Autistic.

Dancer - A former Miss Reindeer USA contestant, whose propensity for ballet carried her through the talent portion of the contest, but unfortunately was not enough to compensate for her unsightly cleft lip.

Prancer - The only openly homosexual reindeer on Santa's sleigh, often seen wearing Dancer's ballet slippers and prancing around like a fruit. He dated Lance Bass briefly, but the tabloids had a field day with the obvious fish reference ("Reindeer Caught Kissing Bass", etc).

Vixen - Vixen is a RILF. This foxy bitch knows how to work her hind legs. Tight, rockin bod (for a reindeer), all the male reindeer want their turn with her. Except Prancer. He's a fag.

Comet - In human terms, Comet is a Eunuch, although his castration was performed accidentally by a chimney. This has been incredibly difficult for him, as he can no longer act on his hoof fetish.

Cupid - it's 340 am and i didn't think the old cupid story was funny so fuck it

Blitzen - A former substitute teacher, Blitzen was convicted of manslaughter after accidentally getting his horns tangled in a young student's abdomen. He served 8 years of a 12 year sentence before taking advantage of Santa's Work Release Program.

Hope Santa was good to you guys.

It's Always Sunny In Orono's Guide to St. Patrick's Day (2011)

2010-03-17T17:51:00.015-04:00

St. Patrick's Day is one of my favorite drinking holidays besides July 4th, Christmas, New Years Eve, New Years Day, Thanksgiving, Labor Day, Flag Day, Earth Day, a neighbor's First Communion, a pet's funeral, and Wednesday through Sunday. Here are 10 ways to get the most out of this, the most sacred of drinking holidays.

#10 It is the only acceptable day of the year to bang a ginger. Though if you can get past those freckly shoulders, you're a better man than me.

#9 Struggling with not knowing your family's cultural identity? Well, get a load of this tasty treat. There are actually more people of Irish descent in America than there are in Ireland itself.

Bang! I just climbed to the top of your family tree and threw you down a nut. You're Irish.

#8 In some areas of the world, Leprechauns actually exist, though they prefer to be called Midgets with Hats.

#7 An Irish Car Bomb is a pint of Guinness, 1/2 shot Bailey's, and 1/2 shot Jameson. Any other variation of this such as Red Bull, although probably delicious, is not an Irish Car Bomb. And please fucking chug the thing.

If you sip on it like a '94 Cabernet, the Bailey's will curdle and you'll have a mug full of cheese.

#6 After you're done buying a round of Car Bombs for some sexy dimes, raise your glasses in a traditional Irish toast. In Gaelic, Slainte (pronounced SLON-cha), which means "to health".

#5 Smithwicks is pronounced "Smitticks". Saying "smith-wicks" makes it sound like you're in the business of making generic candles.

#4 Similarly, you may read the phrase Guinness Draught across your beverage. The word draught is a variation of spelling the word draft. It is still pronounced "draft".

#3 You want a lucky charm? Forget carrying the rabbits foot, keep the 90's television card in your back pocket. Every time you find yourself enamored with a chick too dumb to keep a conversation, play it.

Inevitably, this girl will have spent large part of her childhood watching Clarissa Explains it All, Salute Your Shorts and Rocko and Doug and all that shit, so you know you at least have that in common. I don't know why, but most every hot chick our age loves talking about Nickelodeon. All the cool ones anyway.

#2 When some NoOb asks , "What's that little ball thing inside the Guinness bottle?" you can Pwn them by responding: "It's called a Widget. When the bottle is sealed, it is pressurized with nitrogen, which draws beer into the Widget through small holes. When the bottle is opened, this sudden decrease in pressure releases beer from the widget, agitating the beverage and creating rich, foamy head." Get a flash card.

#1 Many Mainers believe Boston to be center of the universe, mostly because Boston is the closest city with no moose population to speak of. Subsequently, it may be construed that the Dropkick Murphys are the end-all be-all of Celtic punk rock. With my Massachusetts heritage I'll be the first one to say that the LA-based Flogging Molly is vastly superior.

So put on your Flogging Molly playlist and start pregaming.

"It's St. Patty's Day, everyone's Irish tonight." - The Boondock Saints

Mantucket

2010-03-02T21:56:00.020-05:00

Captain Ahab famously set sail from the shores of Nantucket in Herman Melville's Moby Dick. JFK Jr's tragic plane crash took place here as well.

If you've ever dreamed of playing hardball with Chris Matthews, going sweatshirt shopping with Bill Belichick, getting fingered by Tommy Hilfiger, or planting chrysanthemums with my girlfriend Laura, Nantucket Massachusetts is the place for you, as they all own houses on the island.

This place has the star power of a young Miami Beach, and I can see why. The beaches are pristine, well protected and picturesque. It harkens back to a simpler time when there were no chain stores, just handsome little shops.

Everywhere is within walking distance. Everything is made of wood. Everyone on the island is rich and white; the way God intended. It's charming and lovely.

But unfortunately, visiting Nantucket in the middle of winter is a lot like banging a supermodel while shes menstruating.

In the winter, this quaint New England beach town becomes Chernobyl. They should rename it MANtucket because to survive on Nantucket in March you gotta have balls.

The prices are exorbitant, the stores are empty, everything is closed, there's no people, its dark, it's foggy, and it's cold as shit.

And if you choose to live here year round, just know that Mantucket doesn't fuck around.

You better have a robust income, cause in Mantucket you pay more for everything. How about $29.50 for a 30 rack of Budweiser. Do they have any Natty Light? Fuck no. Mantucket charges you $5 for even asking. Gas is 75 cents more per gallon. Milk is like 5 bucks. Don't even get me started on dip.

I know what you're thinking: "Wait, doesn't the economic principle of supply and demand exist on Nantucket Island?" to which I would reply, "Not here buddy." Be prepared to add about 20% to literally everything you buy. Clothes. Food. Rent. You name it, it's jacked up.

If you don't know where you're going, you best have a GPS because there is no rhyme or reason whatsoever for the placement of roads. It's like they handed Michael J. Fox a pencil and told him to trace a straight line. There's your road map. Roads stop and start randomly, and every side-street is one way.

Don't get lost at night either. There are no street lights. Actually, there is no ambient light from stores or cars or parking lots either, so when I say it's dark out, it may be the darkest outdoor environment I have ever been in. Once in a while a post will come out of the ground with about four street signs pointing down the same street. What that means, I have no idea. I shouldn't have to decipher a puzzle from Myst to take a right onto Madaket Rd.

Oh shit you're hungry? Hope you brought a bagged lunch because there are no chain restaurants on Mantucket. No McDonald's, no Papa Gino's, no Outback Steakhouse.

Mantucket: "Hey man want a cheeseburger and fries?"
Me: "Yeah I'm starving!"
Mantucket: "Well make it yourself dick! Hahahaha!"

What an asshole.

And obviously forget about Best Buy, Walmart, and Target...they're too mainstream. So if you blow a light bulb, you light a fucking candle. Mantucket doesn't give a shit about your bulb problem.

I'm sure in the summer the beaches are sick and the bars are fine, but why anyone would choose to live in this god forsaken ghost town during the winter is beyond me.

Love you.

Fun with YouTube

2009-12-09T14:48:00.007-05:00

One of my favorite hobbies is internet trolling. Rather than trolling for swordfish, bass, or delicious whale, I troll for humans. More specifically, the people who like to write paragraphs of text under YouTube videos arguing the existence of God.

Do you honestly think anyone has ever achieved religious enlightenment by reading the comment section under a YouTube video? Will you change your stance on gay marriage after reading what JesusDude247 wrote under some 13 year old girl's piano cover of Party in the USA? Of course not. People take the internet to goddamn seriously. That is why I troll.

In Internet slang, a troll is someone who posts controversial, inflammatory, irrelevant or off-topic messages in an online community, such as an online discussion forum, with the primary intent of provoking other users into an emotional response or otherwise disrupting normal on-topic discussion.

So here's what I do. I find some random video with a decent amount of views, leave a little Brhetoric (patent pending) , and wait for some retard to read it and get pissed off. Then, instead of engaging in a serious political discussion, I give them a healthy dose of "OMG WTF".

Here's an example. After watching a video in which a poor weatherman "failed", I felt compelled to type this into the comment section. You can click the images to make them full size, unless you're a hawk or other predatory bird, in which case you can read it just fine.

I hadn't realized that this was an actual hobby of mine until I looked back at my one year comment history on YouTube, and went "yikes stripes".

Now I will share with you a sampling of my work on YouTube, in an attempt to instill upon the world an important lesson I learned from David Thorne. The internet is a playground.
Double Unboxing:: Smackdown v.s. Raw 2009 and Skate 2

George Carlin - Religion is bullshit.
In this clip, George argues soundly and hilariously that religion is the greatest hoax instilled upon mankind. Ironically, he is now dead.

A little while later, another less eloquent and probably Asian friend joins in the discussion:

A Lil Wayne video:

A cover of an Offspring song:

A video implying that the characters of the Lord of the Rings could have ridden large birds to safety:

The funniest one was probably the one where I wrote: "Who is this Dr. Dre character? I am a very educated man. I went to Harvard. Never heard of him", which illicited over 40 responses from people who were very angry with me. Some of the comments were hilarious but unfortunately I just can't post that much script here.

Some posts got thumbed down too many times and disappeared from the comment section of their respective videos, but I was able to find a few on my channel:

And finally, this is what the comment section of my YouTube channel looks like:

I wish I was a real troll, so I could eat them.

I Saw a Guy on a Unicycle Today

2009-12-02T11:58:00.008-05:00

I was walking to class today when suddenly I was aggressively passed by a gentleman on a unicycle. Assuming my eyes had betrayed me, I stared in disbelief as the one-wheeled baron tore by me at three times my speed. My first thought: "Gee what a neat bicycle...wait a minute".

Of course, there are many more socially acceptable, albeit boring, modes of transportation. How about a skateboard or a bike? Christ he could have got a piggy back ride and I would have stared at him less.

Along with the unicycle, this man rocked a mustache and a long, flowing mane of hair. I don't want to judge him based solely on his appearance, but I will say he looked like he might have child porn on his computer.

Once when I was eleven my father took me to a circus where people were riding unicycles across a tight rope. At first I thought, "Gosh these men have serious skillz". But as soon as the drugs wore off I found it to be about as entertaining as Lou Gehrig's Disease.

Things I would rather be seen riding than a unicycle:

a zebra
a wheel barrow
a humpback whale
Sarah Jessica Parker
a bicycle

50 First Dates

2009-11-04T20:57:00.006-05:00

My girlfriend and I were blessed with the opportunity to watch 50 First Dates starring Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore. It was delightful. I said to her, "I wish I could write a movie that clever." So then I got up and wrote down 6 off the top of my head. Take that Hollywood!

50 First Apes: This is a movie about a horde of disgruntled primates living in captivity who are severely mistreated by a snarky zookeeper. The first 50 who do not die of malnutrition are killed for spite.

50 First Rapes: Directed by M. Night Shyamalan, it's a romantic comedy about a beautiful teenage model trying to make it big in Hollywood. She thought she had caught her big break when she was invited to audition for the part of an adopted daughter on "Tyler Perry's Meet the Browns", but in a surprise twist ending (SPOILER ALERT!) she finds the Cleveland Browns waiting for her instead, and is mercilessly raped for several hours.

50 First Mates: The whimsical tale of 18th century pirate Captain Harry Higgenbottom, whose desperate search for a first-mate ends abruptly when he develops a severe staph infection in his peg leg and is forced to perform an impromptu amputation with a sea cucumber.

50 First States: The hard hitting true story of President Gerald Ford's college years. This documentary digs deep to uncover that indeed, he was quite boring in college.

50 First Plates: A love story that chronicles the romantic relationship between a serial arsonists and his collection of vintage license plates.

50 First Tapes: The tragic tale of a pornographic actress who, after enjoying years of vigorious yet sensuous coitus, loses her battle with cervical cancer. She is denied entry into Heavan based on her promiscuous past, but bribes Saint Peter with 50 copies of her most famous films, including: Finding Nemo's G-Spot, Schindler's Fist, and Cheaper with my Cousin.

Greg's Friend of the Day Award

2009-10-29T00:26:00.007-04:00

Yesterday, a friend I have not talked to since high school awarded me the honor of Friend of the Day. I was not prepared for this and unfortunately I had to improv my acceptance speech.

And I thought I'd never win anything.

It's Always Sunny in Porno?

2009-10-02T20:23:00.000-04:00

Maybe I should just turn this place into a hardcore porn site.

Ever since "The Fucking Milford Cunt" article was run, that phrase triggered a good amount of traffic from people all over the world who apparently really enjoy sex.

With the title, I wasn't trying to be graphic or get shock value or whatever. I wanted you to know the tone of the article before reading it, then find out ironically that it's a quote from my 78 year old grandmother.

In retrospect, I'm glad I went so blue with it.

Here are some of the phrases from the last two weeks that people typed into Google, which lead them here:

Yeah there's some weird ones in there. My favorites are "little boy eats cunt" and "mother got cunt eaten while sleeping" because hey, they could be looking for the same video.

It's Always Sunny in Orono...disappointing masterbaters everywhere since 7/15/09

Ten Stacks

2009-09-28T21:36:00.007-04:00

In honor of our 10,000th page view we're going back to the old layout. It's nostalgic, and if you don't like, well that's pretty rude you should learn to like more things.

You will notice I separated the Season 1 and 2 archives to make it easier to go back and look at the dumb old shit.

I'm also working on a bunch of things, including a new Amy starring another classic character.

Last December I started a stupid little blog for my own amusement. I went a week without food, chronicled my drunken spring break nights, my gambling losses, and my trip to FSU. I even talked dirty to a 18 year old Italian boy. Now, ten months and ten thousand views later, I've still got a stupid little blog. Thanks internet.

Strange Traffic

2009-09-12T21:06:00.014-04:00

I use Statcounter.com to look at the statistics of my page traffic. It allows me to see who comes here, how long they were here, what they clicked on, etc. I was looking over the stats today because I had an enormous amount of first time visitors...over 1,500. I don't know if we're being linked to or written about by some weird website, but if you know anything about this, please fill me in.

As I was trying to figure this mystery out, I happened upon a gentleman from Springfield, Missouri, who at 4:01 PM today visited It's Always Sunny in Orono.

Notice anything strange about his information?

That's right. He typed the phrase "sweet little cunts" into Google, and wound up here. I said to myself, how in the world did that query trigger my blog? So I Googled "sweet little cunts", and sure enough, it was on the first page.

Now, I'm trying to picture this in my head. I'm about to wack off. I have my pants around my ankles and I'm thinking, "you know what I'd love to watch right now? Girls that have sweet little cunts."

So I Google it, scroll all the way down, (because the first 10 fucking websites apparently aren't dirty enough) and read the words SWEET LITTLE 78 YEAR OLD GRAMMY in the description.

I say SWEET, click the link, realize it's not granny porn, and although I have a raging erection and a handful of lotion, I stay there for 37 fucking seconds.

Oh, and it's 4:01 PM.

What a fucked up individual.

FAQ and Season 2 Update

2009-09-08T12:05:00.001-04:00

I took the summer off to focus on my new hobby called Snoodling. It's quite fun. First you beat the shit out of some black guy. Next you steal his bling and sell it on ebay. Then with that money you friend him and buy him lots of facebook gifts so he forgives you. This can be done over and over. It works with whites as well.

Heres some FAQs

Q. "So was all the stuff you wrote about in the FMC article true?"

A. Unfortunately dudes. Even the masturbation part. All real.

Q. "What happened next? Did you confront her? Did she ever find out about the blog?"

A. I had a long discussion with my father Yrag about it. And this should really be a post in and of itself, but here's the lazy version.

One night I was jerking off in the basement when I heard Julie...nah fuck it her name is Kim Brenna...screaming at my dad. So I put down my Disney Channel Magazine and I crept up the stairs to listen in.

"If I see that girl here this weekend there's going to be fireworks! FIREWORKS!"

My dad was taking me and my girlfriend white water rafting the next day, but Kim is the most childishly possessive person I've ever known. You know the stage toddlers get to when they're like "mine! mine!" about everything? Well that's this bitch 24/7.

So Yrag goes "Do you hate people that much Kim? Why can't Brett's girlfriend spend a night here I'm taking them river rafting in the morning?"

Here's the exact quote. She's in tears, and desperately trying to talk my father out of letting my girlfriend spend a night in the guest room.

"Yrag I already told you! She's can't stay here because....I'm getting the BATHTUBS REFINISHED!"

So my father and I had had enough, and he told that bitch her to fuck off.

She can't afford the house herself so they are putting it on the market. My dad's renting for now and looking to buy something with a pool this spring.

And no, I never told her about the blog.

Q. "Dude what the fuck? You posted one time this entire summer!"

A. Although technically not a question, a valid point nonetheless. I never really planned on writing over the summer, the FMC article was just me venting in the only way I really know how.

But basically I wanted to let you know that I'll be posting regularly again starting this weekend, so stay tuned for Season 2 of It's Always Sunny In Orono.

Pink Hat Hell

2009-05-27T15:24:00.013-04:00

If you know anything about the Red Sox, you know what a Pink Hat is. A Pink Hat is a young woman who gets free tickets from her work, shows up to the park with her pink hat, and doesn't know a goddamn fucking thing about baseball apart from wanting to have Jacoby Ellsbury's baby.

I'll put it this way: If you went to either of the Red Sox parades, but you can't tell me what channel NESN is on, you are a pink hat.

They can often be overheard saying things like "Why isn't Clay Buckhalter pitching? He's so hot!" and "Remember that guy Cocoa Crispies or whatever? LOL" and ask questions like "When is the game gonna be over?"

So if you show up to the park with your buddies and you find that a Pink Hat is sitting behind you, you might as well move to an obstructed view seat because you will have a better time sitting alone behind a fucking load-bearing pillar.

So when I saw this on the internet today I had an aneurysm. It's a watermelon scratch and sniff hat. I'm not kidding. This shit exists.

I guess the MLB will license just about anything. Fuck pride, tradition, history, nah we'll just sell our souls to New Era. It's not even like its for breast cancer awareness like the pink Mother's Day bats or wristbands, which I'm fine with.

There's nothing intrinsically infuriating about the color of the hat specifically, but rather what the hat represents: a bandwagon, know-nothing casual observer that shares all the awesomeness when we win, and none of the heartbreak when we lose.

And this pink scratch and sniff Red Sox hat has gone too damn far.

I swear if my seats are next to a chick thats scratching and sniffing her pink hat, I'll grab her by her pink brim, and make her scratch and sniff my pink ass.

What do you guys think of the new page layout?

The Amy Martin Project

2009-04-25T11:00:00.000-04:00

This is Amy Martin. She likes Kenny Chesney and Grey's Anatomy. She hates the snow, loves puppies and works at Hollister Co. And omg she's so fake.

But not in the usual way that most girls are fake. Amy is actually a product of my imagination.

A while ago I decided to perform a social experiment. I wanted to know what it would be like to be a hot chick.

So I searched randomly for girls on MySpace from Texas, and chose her. Pretty, skinny, blonde, adventurous. The average guy's dream.

I gave her an AIM screen name, a fake boyfriend, and I often just go on there and change her status to keep her profile up-to-date.

This took a very long time...months and months to build credibility. But when you're as hot as Amy, people want to be your friend. Every single time I sign on as her, I have dozens of pokes, friend requests, and messages.

Tons of people, including the star of the university's basketball team, actually wrote on her wall for her birthday it was so good. I even got this message from a jealous girlfriend of a guy Amy had friended, but never talked to.

Thought you would like to know...Richard has been deleting lots of friends lately and you have made it into his top 11...I find this interesting since he is very adamant about not telling me who you are. Don't take this message the wrong way please, I'm sure you understand how any girlfriend would feel when a beautiful woman on their boyfriends friends list is said to be "unknown" yet unable to be deleted.

They broke up 2 weeks later.

Amy, a person that doesn't exist, was at least partly responsible for breaking up 2 young lovers.

Now that's fucking power.

One time I was on there changing Amy's status when I got a message from this very Italian gentleman. This is all I could have hoped for, as everyone knows Italians are known for being dumb and horny.

It was funny at first but soon became a bit weird. To the point where every time I signed onto Amy, I had a new message in her inbox from him.

I decided he was perfect for this social experiment.

I had found my mark.

This was back last year, before the Facebook Chat feature, so when Joe messages me, I told him to sign on AIM so I could save the conversation.

I want to make this clear. I did not initiate this.

This is taken verbatim from an AIM chat. As always, the names have been changed.

ItalianJoe: yo yo

ItalianJoe: so you live in ot now?

AmyMartin: yuppers

AmyMartin: u should come see me

I think it is important to note that I get into full character on this one. Straight up To Catch a Predator style.

ItalianJoe: oh really?

AmyMartin: for sure

ItalianJoe: hmm

ItalianJoe: very good possibility, but is there a good reason for me to come?

AmyMartin: oh there is the best reason for you to come...

AmyMartin: sex!

AmyMartin: with a hot girl!

ItalianJoe: hahahah
ItalianJoe: whats your number

AmyMartin: i dropped my phone in a fish tank just come over and fuck me

ItalianJoe: ooooo

ItalianJoe: i hope you're not some crazy fat girl who puts sexy pictures online

If only he wasn't so Italian. So at this point, I want to make sure that he doesn't read my blog already, thus making this whole thing pointless. So I drop him a little hint as to what's going on.

AmyMartin: you ever notice how its always sunny in orono

ItalianJoe: ?

AmyMartin: its always sunny in orono

AmyMartin: seems like

ItalianJoe: lol, i guess so.

Alright, I got the green light with this fucking project. Probably pretty foolish of me to think that anybody would read this stupid website anyway. I should get a job.

So at this point, Joe decides that it is imperative that we meet up tonight, and Amy agrees. I told Joe to meet me at an off campus apartment building where I supposedly lived.

I tell him that I'll wanna spank his tan Italian ass.

ItalianJoe: my friends call me the short tan sensation

AmyMartin: my friends call me oral sex mcgee hehe!...ill meet you in the lobby

ItalianJoe: alright

ItalianJoe: ill leave in a few

AmyMartin: ok can u make it 830? ive gotta shave my pp

ItalianJoe: yeeah i gueeeeeesssss
AmyMartin: my vulva is all wet i cant wait cya at 830 sharp

You would think that talking to a wicked hot, overtly sexual girl online would send up a few red flags. I've tried this before with a few non-Italians and I got caught right away. But this kid is nothing if not persistent.

ItalianJoe: straight up, dont think i can wait until 830

AmyMartin: ok you can come at 8 if you tell me how ur gonna bang me

ItalianJoe: or i could come at 8 and just surprise you.

AmyMartin: i hope ur not one of those really small guys

AmyMartin: in the penile region

ItalianJoe: i might only be 5 foot 6, but i promise...

ItalianJoe: you will have one of the best nights

AmyMartin: of sex

ItalianJoe: yes

AmyMartin: i want you to pull my hair

AmyMartin: not too hard tho or my extensions might come out

It's getting close to 8:00, so we say goodbye and I grab my camera and sprint out to my car to get a spot outside the apartment building to shoot this sad scene.

When I get back to my computer, I have a message waiting for me.

He asks me why I didn't show up, so I tell him my boyfriend decided to stop by after work and I didn't want to get caught.

So I wait about a half hour and start talking to him again.

ItalianJoe: let me come get you

ItalianJoe: i got a biiiiiiig truck

AmyMartin: for wat

AmyMartin: to hide in ?

ItalianJoe: you can hide, but id rather fuck

ItalianJoe: in the truck.

Dr. Seuss over here hasn't given up quite yet. He's still got pussy on his mind, and by George he's gotta get it.

The conversation continues in a pretty graphic way.

ItalianJoe: whts your fav position

AmyMartin: doggy style

AmyMartin: i like when guys hit that shit from behind

ItalianJoe: hmm

ItalianJoe: im sure i can help you out with that

AmyMartin: wats urs

ItalianJoe: same thing

AmyMartin: dont be lame tell me what you're gonna do to me

ItalianJoe: you're gonna have your face in the pillow

ItalianJoe: truuuuust me

AmyMartin: reallllyyyy

ItalianJoe: promise

I usually feel bad fucking with people on this level. I wouldn't have pursued this if I had any sense that he was respectful, or if he said something like "We shouldn't be talking like this you have a boyfriend". I really wouldn't. Instead he says something here that caught me so off guard that I spit my Busch Light all over the screen.

ItalianJoe: 10 inches good for you?

I'm not a doctor or anything, but you would think a 5'6" Italian kid probably isn't going to be the most well endowed person in the world. I have spent some time in the showers with guys playing football for 12 years, and I have never seen anything resembling ten inches. At this point my roommate, the internet's biggest sensation Ben suggests we have him send us a picture of the dick in question. I decide this probably isn't the greatest idea in the world.

AmyMartin: ur 10 inches??

ItalianJoe: depends on how excited you get me

AmyMartin: well i was gonna try and give you a boner hehe

ItalianJoe: then im 10 allllll the way

ItalianJoe: im tellin you...you got noooooooo idea

AmyMartin: u lie

AmyMartin: ill use my yardstick on you

ItalianJoe: ive never measured before but im prettttty sure its atleast 10

So that's where elephant cock and I left off. He wants to hang out tomorrow but Amy isn't sure. A part of me feels like I've embarrassed this kid enough. Then I remember what it feels like to have your girlfriend bang guys just like him.

As far as Italian Joe knows, Amy is real and has a boyfriend. The fact that he knows this and wants to stick his donkey dick inside her anyway really brings my piss to a fucking boil. That's why I've decided to fuck with this kid until I decide when to stop.

I'm gonna make a great father someday.

The Amy Martin Project: Part 2

The Italian Joe Song (Miley Cyrus cover)

It's Always Sunny In Orono

Blogs like David Thorne

Special Alex

2009-04-21T21:09:00.004-04:00

This is my roommate Alex. Unfortunately, he was born with Down Syndrome.

However, he has overcome his handicap to become the retard equivalent of Jackie Robinson, becoming the first ever mentally handicapped person to host a public access television show.

Two years ago, when Alex was riding home from Special Ed class on his Rascal, he accidentally swallowed his mouth guard thinking it was a cheeseburger. This sent him veering off the road at 4MPH into a ditch, where a 71 year old man found him and vowed to take care of him.

He took Alex back to his farm and every day he threw a bale of hay, oats, and a salt lick into his stable. He would munch away on his feed so loudly that he once woke up a neighbor sleeping 3/4 of a mile away.

One day the farmer brought Alex downstairs into the dark musty basement and molested him on video. Ever since then Alex has had a love for the camera.

Alex is known for making, what his producers like to call "Retard Faces" at the beginning, middle and end of all his broadcasts. Although most of these faces are unflattering and aesthetically unpleasing, Alex simply does it anyway because it "makes my face feel good".

Alex was soon fired for lying about his hours and stealing food from the break room, so he found a new job doing radio.

And by radio I mean he sits alone in his room playing MVP Baseball 2005 with the sound off doing color commentary.

Late Night

2009-04-19T01:42:00.003-04:00

TV Drop

2009-04-10T13:03:00.003-04:00

Last year my television set stopped working, which was good because I got to cross "smash a tv" off my bucket list.

My roommate Bones and I took the beast to the highest point in town and chucked it off. Thank god no one was around cause that thing woulda fucking killed someone.

Sorry for the quality. I shot this on mini-VHS then to get it online had to literally point my digital camera at the TV.

"Check" It Out

2009-04-05T21:38:00.017-04:00

Every house has what I like to call a Billmaster. The Billmaster is usually the person who ends up having to put their name on the cable and electric accounts. Because of this, this person has the unfortunate responsibility to make sure the house's bills are payed on time. My roommate Ben, the Internet's Biggest Sensation, is the Billmaster of our house.

You know the stupid line on the check where you're supposed to write what the check is for? Yeah, I don't do that.

FYI: I don't live at that address anymore so stalkers/rapists hit me up on Facebook and I'll invite you over for tea.

Finally, Ben saw me writing the check and specifically asked that I put nothing there.

RED SOX OPENING DAY TOMORROW BABY.

Sooo Hungryyy

2009-04-02T13:16:00.002-04:00

I have eight dollars in my bank account. Credit card is maxed out. Just went grocery shopping with a Wal-Mart gift card. While I wait for my grandmother to send me a check, let me take time out to share with you a couple of websites that get me hard.

TotallyHeather.com is the creation of an Asian friend of mine, so you know it's good. Endorsed by Dane Cook in a recent Twitter, she's got a blog she updates every day with whatever is on her mind. Her brand of self-deprecating humor is much like mine, so if you like Sunny In Orono, give TotallyHeather.com a look.

Buntology.com is another blog I've been reading lately to get the news, celebrity gossip, weather and fashion advice. Sure, I could get that information from somewhere else, but doesn't it mean more coming from good-looking girls?

The Amy Martin Project pt.2

2009-04-01T16:00:00.005-04:00

In the spirit of April Fool's Day, I bring you the highly anticipated second installment of the Amy Martin Project.

If you haven't read it yet, check it out now. Fuck it. Even if you know it by heart read it again to get yourself in the mood. I'll wait. You back yet? Huh? You didn't even click it did you. Whatever. It was meatspin anyway. Now lets embark on this goddamn epic journey together.

As always, the names have been changed and the correspondences are verbatim.

Also, I may or may not wear a wig, sports bra and/or watermelon lip gloss when I'm in what I like to call, "Amy Mode". I tell my lovely girlfriend of six months that it helps me focus.

Brett: she's my feminine side
Brett: when im on her AIM i feel like i can really be myself
Laura: u scare me

Alrighty then. So I sign onto the 'book with Amy and send Joe a message.

joeeee!!! what have you been up to???

I click Home and read the status updates for literally thirty seconds, and already I have a message back from him.

nothing at all. waiting until you get back online, cause that is the only way i have been able to talk to you! whats your number?

So I send Joe back this message.

1-800-10-Inches-Please ! I will sign on to AIM just for u :)

And here we go...

ItalianJoe: so why havent u been online in a while?
AmyMartin: i've been a busy beaver!
AmyMartin: Is that ur new girlfriend in ur profile picture :(
ItalianJoe: na shes just a goooooood friend

We all know what he's implying here. This move doesn't work guys. I don't know why we do it, no girl wants to hear that you hook up with other girls. It doesn't make you seem desirable, it makes you seem like a douche.

AmyMartin: phew! im glad
ItalianJoe: oh yeahh?
ItalianJoe: how come
AmyMartin: because now we can go for a ride in ur BIG TRUCK!
ItalianJoe: how do i know ur not gunna stand me up?
AmyMartin: omg babe! i told you im sorry. ur lucky tho
AmyMartin: my boyfriend was there and he woulda killed u lol
ItalianJoe: he big?

Ok so here's where the story takes a dramatic turn. I could have gone in any number of directions on this one. I had suggestions ranging from hiring a girl to play Amy, to pretending I was the angry boyfriend and beating the shit out of him. I thought long and hard (haha) about it and I decided the best thing ever would be to have the boyfriend be a bodybuilder and start IMing him all this outrageous shit.

AmyMartin: yeah hes super strong i think hes on steroids cuz hes got terrible bacne
AmyMartin: I once popped one of his back pimples and it squirted into my eyeball! yuckyyy!!!
ItalianJoe: gross?
ItalianJoe: wats the deal with u and him
AmyMartin: things are good we are seeing each other again
ItalianJoe: u still wanna go for a ride
AmyMartin: omg duh.
ItalianJoe: u gonna mke it worth my while?
AmyMartin: I wanna see that 10 inch dingo of urs hehehe :)
ItalianJoe: im not coming all the way to ur place to let u just see it...
ItalianJoe: wat are you going to do to it haha
AmyMartin: the arches of my feet are really soft...i also have no gag reflex
ItalianJoe: dammm, i dont want u to stand me up again, can you come here?
AmyMartin: where do you live?

So I plan to meet up with Joe, meanwhile he gets an IM from someone who is very angry with him...

RoidMonkey 666: yo
ItalianJoe: whos this
RoidMonkey 666: who the fuck is this
ItalianJoe: ?
RoidMonkey 666: joe?
RoidMonkey 666: is that ur fucking piece of shit name
ItalianJoe: who is this
RoidMonkey 666: U been hookin up with my girl u greasy bitch? U think ur an Italian Stallion? I'M THE STALLION! Im coming to [dorm deleted] hall room 222 now and you better believe I'm going to bench press your scrawny ass. I'm going to squat thrust you into submission, military press you into oblivion and stick a dumbbell straight up your ass!
ItalienJoe signed off

At least I got that awesome paragraph out in time before he blocked me. Fuck. I really should have thought about this. Did I really just give him the power to ruin this project? Yes I did. But Italian Joe is one of the dumbest people I have ever talked to in my entire life.

The following exchange is the Money Shot of the Amy Martin Project.

ItalianJoe: ummmm
AmyMartin: did he just im you?

ItalianJoe: yea
AmyMartin: FUCK
AmyMartin: i think he knows about us

AmyMartin: ohhhhh fuck

AmyMartin: go lock your doors i'm serious

AmyMartin: watd he say?

ItalianJoe: are you serious right now

AmyMartin: u dont know what he said?

ItalianJoe: he said he was coming here to fight

ItalianJoe: then i blocked him. is he really coming to my room?
ItalianJoe: why did you tell him where I live????

ItalienJoe signed off

The next day:

I sign onto AIM with Amy and within ten seconds he IMs her.

ItalianJoe:

ItalianJoe:

HAHAHA. The spacebar? Seriously? It's as if he needs to talk to her but just can't find the words.

Maybe he's testing the water in case Amy's boyfriend is over...

ItalianJoe: .

A period. Getting a little more ballsy...

AmyMartin: hello?

ItalianJoe : is this u or your boyfriend haha
AmyMartin: her boyfriend mother fucker

ItalienJoe signed off

April Fools Day

2009-03-30T14:19:00.003-04:00

If you were thinking to yourself, "Brett seems like he would be a pretty big prankster. I wonder what kind of shenanigans he's going to pull on April fools day. I also wonder what this milky discharge coming out of my dick is.", then you're a pretty smart fucker. And you have gonorrhea.

So my advice to you would be to infect as many people as you can before seeking medical attention, and stay tuned Wednesday and Thursday for the April Fools Day Spectacular.

FML

2009-03-22T21:09:00.010-04:00

I'm getting a bike. I'm thinking about getting this one. Seems like it would be a nice fit. Listed for $1600, I talked the kid down to $1200. I love the look of the old FZRs, its got real low miles and runs great.

For those of you counting, this is the bike that I was on my way to buy over Thanksgiving break. I took out $1200 in cash, bought four ratchet straps and cleaned out my truck bed. I made it about an hour south of campus, and my truck's engine bearings began to rattle.

I pulled into a two garages, and both said the engine would seize up in no more than 100 miles. My 2002 Dodge Dakota with 225,000 miles had officially shit the fucking bed.

Long story short, I sold my truck for parts and used my motorcycle money to buy a used 97 Buick LeSabre. Fuck My Life.

SBINE Wrap Up

2009-03-22T19:15:00.000-04:00

Well it was indeed a whirlwind of a break. Rizzle and I successfully partied at five different colleges, getting to sample the local cuisine, bars, and women.

I left out a few drunken nights but, for the sake of redundancy and self preservation, we'll just leave it at that.

Now on to bigger and better things.

SBINE "It's Coming!"

2009-03-20T14:53:00.017-04:00

(TPiddy surreptitiously emptying his bladder in a dark musty corner of the basement)

The best part about having to spend Spring Break in New England (SBINE) is definately the St. Pattys Day parties.

Last weekend Grahambo, Scarface, Rizzle, and myself head into Boston to visit TPiddy at Northeastern. TPiddy was having a frat party kegger at his house, and we got in a little early to get the feel for it.

I think this idea is underrated at parties. Sometimes when I get to a party late and there's a shit ton of people that I don't know there, I end up drinking by myself on the couch or looking through the hosts dresser drawers for stuff to steal. But when I get there before everyone else, I get what I like to call the "Home Field Advantage", and I can channel my inner Tucker Max.

When we got there, TPiddy wasn't back from buying the kegs yet. So me and Scarface start switching around all his shit. By the time we were done, if you wanted to watch say Elf, you'd find it in the Blow case, and ect. If you wanted to take a mulit-vitamin, you'd have to look in the Omega-3 bottle. We're hilarious like that.

We start setting up the basement with tables and cups and shit. For a Boston house, the basement is actually pretty good sized. TPiddy throws on some Dropkicks and we start playing some warm up games of Beruit until the keg tap arrives. Scarface passes out for a good hour, and we head upstairs without him to start pregaming.

As soon as the kegs and the tap show up, floods of people start pouring into his place. For those of you not in college, a frat party mainly consists of two things: homo frat brothers, and slutty freshman girls.

The party has gotten pretty good now, TPiddy is running around in the green man suit, and me and Rizzle head into this random kids room to watch Duke play BC. Rizzle and I get front and center seats as more and more people start to pile in. Duke wins by one point in the final seconds, and I start to go nuts and give everyone noogies, because I read in a magazine once that this is cool.

So I'm walking out of the room and I say to no one in particular "Man, Elliott Williams stepped up huge tonight" and a girl to my right is like "oh you know him?". This startles, confuses, and amazes me because Elliott Williams is Duke's backup freshman guard from Tennessee.

(EDIT: Elliott Williams transferred from Duke to Memphis for family reason, where he averaged over 20 points per game. He was a one-and-done in Memphis as well, and was drafted by the Blazers 22nd overall in the 2010 NBA Draft)

Now this girl is a pig by most standards. Larger than normal, sluttily dressed and tits that just won't quit.

Me: How the fuck do you know Elliott Williams?
Girl: I went to high school with him!
Me: You're full of shit. Where is he from then?
Girl: Memphis! I swear to god.
Me: You lie.
Girl: I have his number in my phone!

Nothing would ever make me interested in this cow-girl, but God, how sick would it be to call Elliott after beating BC in the ACC Tournament to chat about the game? So, I go downstairs to get a beer and sit down on the couch, and she sits down next to me.

Me: So what's his number?
Girl: I can't give it to you he'd be so mad at me?
Me: What's the difference? He's not going to know that you gave it to me.
Girl: I don't think I can.
Me: You're full of shit. I bet you're not even really from Memphis.

Probably not the right thing to say, because before I know it I'm ensconced in conversation about her family life, growing up in Tennessee, coming to Boston to get away, and the subsequent guy troubles she's gotten herself into.

I put in a fucking half-hour long shift to try and get this number out of her. Finally I couldn't take it anymore.

Me: So are you going to give me his number or not.
Girl: I told you I just can't.
Me: In that case, I hear the Beruit table calling my name

I've never tried that hard to get a guy's number in my entire life. I went through fucking torture, and in the end I wound up embarrassed and ashamed that I allowed that hog to even be seen with me.

So I go upstairs and in the room next to TPiddy's, theres a fucking live band playing. I swear to God a fucking bassist, guitar, full drum kit, amps the whole deal. They were rocking out and me and Scarface were loving it.

That is until the neighbors called and asked them to shut the fuck up. So we go back downstairs and play Tiger on 360 until the party officially dies.

Grahambo passes the fuck out in his seat, and we are literally the last people awake in the damn house. We finish up our game, go upstairs, break into TPiddy's room with a credit card, and pass out on the floor.

Now I wake up around eight o'clock to what I think is a fucking earthquake. The floor is shaking, the bed is rattling and squeeking. It took me a few moments to assess the situation: TPiddy is fucking the shit out of this chick Tanny. I can hear her saying something in between her "OH YES's" and "OH MY GOD's".

"T this is so rude. You're going to wake them." Obviously her embarrassment over the situation was superseded by her hornyness, because then I hear another "OH YES" and a "DON'T STOP".

Then something that made me scratch my head. "IT'S COMING!" I'm not sure why she referes to her orgasms as "it". Maybe there is a little gnome living in her vagina that literally comes out to see whose knockin on her door.

Tanny: Oh no. It's Coming! You've awoke him!
Gnome: HEHEHE! Who dares knock on my vaginal doors?
Tanny: Now you've done it! He EATS people!

Either way one thing's for sure. Both of them were turned on by my presence.

Keep in mind Scarface and I are but two feet away and in plain view. Sure, we could have stood up and busted them in the act. Me and Scarface, who I later find out did the exact same thing, pretended to be asleep the whole time, because rule number one of being a good friend is "Thou shalt not cockblock".

We wait till the punishment subsides, then put on an acting performance that would make Heath Ledger cry dead tears of jealousy. Yawning and stretching, we pretend to come out of a deep sleep, get up and get our shit, and go downstairs.

When we get down there, we see this:

Yeah, that's Grahambo all cuddled up with some random kid on the sofa.

Grahambo: "WTF? Dude I thought that was you sleeping next to me. This kid hogged the blanket all night."

So cute. I'm feeling like absolute shit from drinking Natty Ice keg beer all night, so I steal a can of chicken noodle soup.

UPDATE: (Forgot about this part)

Outside, we are chagrined to learn that our car is being blocked in the driveway by a sketchy red van. Goddamnit! All I want to do is curl into the fetal position and wait this hangover out. Now I gotta go on a fucking scavenger hunt to find Jeffrey Dahmer's fucking car keys.

So I go around the house yelling, waking everyone up. "Which one of you idiots drives a red van?" Finally I find the culprit passed out in a bedroom downstairs.

He goes "Oh shit that's me man"

"Well your sweet ride is blocking everyone in. Gimme your keys."

I put the keys in the ignition and start backing this big motherfucker up when I notice a digital camera resting conspicuously on the dashboard. Rizz sees me notice the camera. "Dude, no".

So I did what any logical person with my specific brain and mental attributes would do, and I "Dude, yes" -ed him.

And before we both knew it, I was sans pants.

Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday that kid will fire up his camera, all set to post some sweet vacation pics to Facebook.

Instead, he'll find a sweaty, hairless, anonymous cock staring back at him.

Who drives a van?

SBINE "Is This Kid Human?"

2009-03-09T17:27:00.018-04:00

(Sorry for the quality. My camera has trouble uploading color photos)

Saturday night the SBINE (Spring Break in New England) boys and I go down to Union College in Schenectady, New York. It's about a three hour drive from where we live, but the time passes quickly due to the fact that terrorizing pedestrians still amuses us.

Now, since this is sort of a fucked up situation, I'm going to Tarantino it and skip over the night for now and instead we'll fast forward to the next morning. And together, we will go back and figure out what the fuck happened.

Rizzle wakes me up at 9 AM Sunday, and I have no idea where I am. My fist is throbbing, and my throat is scratchy and raw. My pants are filthy, my sweatshirt and hat are missing. I roll out of bed, steal a vitamin water out of the fridge and stumble downstairs, still drunk.

My last known memory of last night is drinking a lot of Evan Williams and going around Shirley's house with my shirt off yelling "I am King Leonidas". I remember brandishing a broken plastic piece of broom that I was using as a sword. There was a good looking girl there, with a wicked deep voice, and I also remember riding a mountain bike through a beruit game.

EDIT: I actually forgot to mention Shirley's dog Remy. Or should I say horndog Remy. That thing is the horniest animal I have ever seen in my life. It's a two year old lab and that thing must just be hitting puberty because when we were all sitting on the couch drinking, he came over to kel with a twinkle in his eye and just started fucking the shit out of her leg. Kelly, being the good sport that she is, waited until Remy was done to kick him off.

Then after that it becomes very spotty. I recall going to Shirley's frat party and drinking some pink shit, meeting a kid named Doug, and dancing with a black woman.

I'm fucking embarrassed about the events that took place before I blacked out. God forgive me for whatever I did after.

I guess I'll look through my phone. Now, I am a very eloquent drunk texter. I mean it. It might take me ten minutes to type one message, and I might have to spell it aloud, but it'll be fucking Shakespearian when I'm done. It should be able to provide some insight about last night.

(to Kel) - "That girls voice is remarkably deep"

This makes sense. I was very rattled by her voice. I mean it was booming, a little like Morgan Freeman.

3:39 AM (to my gf) - "You are a spectacular woman i want to spend my life w you and not fight faggots"

3:46 AM (to my gf) "Rizz will not harm me and everyone has my back"

Hmmm. Did I get in a fight last night? Okay, I think I'm going to need some help on this one. I ask everyone what happened last night and here are their recollections of the shenanigans I got myself into.

Rizzle: "Dude I just remembered the most fucked up thing that happened last night. Shirley's neighbor two doors down is a halfway house and you went there and knocked on the door. Some deadbeat black guy answered and you just stood there and didn't say anything. I ran up to you, apologized to the black man and dragged you back to Shirley's as he stood there and stared at us."

Rizz also tells me that I picked a fight with one of the brothers over literally nothing. He suggest that it went something like this. Kid: "Hey are you having a good time?" Me: "Did you just say something about my girlfriend?". I don't know why I do this shit when I'm drunk but all of sudden haymakers were being thrown.

Now usually I just like to get the reaction out of people and not actually fight. I don't remember much, but I do remember the feeling of actually wanting to fucking kill this kid. I got thrown out, and started punching street signs and garbage cans on the way back to Shirley's.

Lyle: " Hahaha. Hmmm I caught you with your pants down tossing baby powder all over your "situation". It was pretty much all about you last night at the frat party. You took off your shirt and started yelling "I am King Leonidas!" and some girl leaned over to me and asked "Is this kid Human?". We had to pretty much watch over you most of the night. Grahambo attempted to mack it with a girl wearing a bandanna as a bra, and then walked three miles by himself in search of pizza, to no avail. "

Grahambo: "I don't think I've ever seen anyone scare, mystify and infuriate so many people in the span of a few drunken hours."

Kel: "I remember you spit in my shoe"

We all left that morning and made the long trip back to Mass. I never did find my sweatshirt or hat, I left it somewhere in New York, along with my dignity.

The Italian Joe Song

2009-03-07T11:28:00.002-05:00

Wow. You guys are not ready for this. If you haven't already read The Amy Martin Project, do so now, or this video will make no sense. Chances are, it won't make sense anyway.

SBINE "Beers at Lyle's"

2009-03-06T23:09:00.001-05:00

The SBINE crew for now consists of Rizzle and myself, since UMaine is apparently the only school in the country that's off this week. Wednesday we met up with our old pal Lyle to watch some TV and have a few beers. The thing about Lyle is that what most men aspire to have by age 30, Lyle is on the brink of attaining at 22. He's got a college degree, works full time, he's engaged, and he's put in an offer on a house.

He's really got his shit together, which is why I didn't mind when he wanted to pack it in early on Wednesday. Rizzle wasn't feelin it either, so he went home.

So I went to Tom's Tavern by myself for a few beers. I played a couple games of KENO and bought some scratch tickets too, which I obviously lost because I never fucking win anything.

SBINE "Where's Your Blog?"

2009-03-06T13:08:00.012-05:00

Last Saturday was a shit show for the SBINE (Spring Break in New England) crew. The three - stop college tour started at Providence College. Me and Rizzle were going to Rhode Island College to meet some friends, so we figured we might as well stop in and see what our boys at PC were up to. Oddly enough, we find out our buddy Grahambo is in the library. On a Saturday night. This confused, astonished, and angered me and Rizz, so we started drinking.

Rizz waited while I pounded my glass of Evan Williams on the library steps then we burst in on a mission to find Grahambo. Upstairs, downstairs, behind books, underneath the rug, we looked everywhere. I asked a kid "hey, where's my friend Grahambo?" but he didn't know him. He must not be too popular at PC.

Finally we found the bastard in an obscure nook that only a badger could fit into. While Grahambo finished his "last paragraph", me and Rizz played about the loudest paper football game in history.Then on the way out I managed to move around an entire section of books and put them out of order. Aren't I hilarious. We ended up eating in the PC dining hall for free (thanks Dot), I scared the shit out of some people, we bid Grahambo adieu, and then we got the fuck out of there.

Next stop was to Rhode Island College to see them play UMass Dartmouth in the "Conference Championship of Who Gives a Fuck". It was a good hour or more since I had drank anything so I started sobering up. At this point I think the funniest thing all night happened.

We couldn't find the stupid RIC gym so we were driving around aimlessly until we saw an old guy jogging. We rolled down the window to ask him for directions but the guy just kept jogging. Then I saw his head turn back towards us and he starts giving us directions as hes jogging away. He was getting further and further behind us, still talking, until eventually the distance between us became so great that Rizzle was actually shouting back and forth with him trying to clarify the directions. Crazy motherfucker.

Alright so we get to the gym and it's already the second half. Due to the amount of black people in the "crowd", we're able to spot our friends Scarface and Smiles immediately. Me and Rizz go over and stand next to them and watch the rest of the game mercifully come to an end. As we're walking out, some black chick starting talking hip hop to this black dude and they started yelling at each other. Some more black people came over and started pushing back and forth. I even think I saw her spit at him. We're all standing there watching this happen before us, we got potentially WWIII on our hands, and Scarface yells out "Do the Soulja Boy!"

On to a house in Fall River where I start to drink the rest of my whiskey. TPiddy joined up with us and we all started pounding our shit looking for something to do.

We eventually go back to Scarface and Smiles' apartment. So we got Me, Rizzle, TPiddy, Scarface, and Smiles and their two roommates and we're all fucked up and looking for something to do. After an intense Rock Paper Scissors tourney, (I'm not joking when I say it was intense. I lost my voice.) everybody starts wondering around trying to find a party.

Me and Rizzle start walking down the hall, and out pops a young man from another room. Being the friendly kids Rizz and I are, we decide to engage him in a little harmless conversation.

Me: Hey
Kid: Hey
Rizz: Whats up man any parties going on or what
Kid: Ughhh, not really anything no.
Me: Do you think you could beat him up? (pointing to Rizz)
Kid: Umm what? I don't know.
Me: Do you think you could beat me up?

Those must have been the magic words for this fucker because all of sudden, the both of us had to be restrained. I don't know how it happened, thank Evan Williams. The kid starts saying the typical toughguy stuff, out from the behind the 95 pound girl holding him back.

Kid: I'll kick your fucking ass faggot
Me: You gotta get past your tiny girlfriend first
Kid: Keep talking bitch I'll knock you out

Ok. So his girlfriend is crying now. Absolutely bawling. She manages to get him back into their room. I'm absolutely loving the fact that I got this kind of reaction out of him. I start walking back towards the door and when suddenly it flies open again. The kid emerges, this time sans the shirt.

Kid: Lets go faggot
Me: Hey, where'd your shirt go?
Kid: Fuck you bitch you wanna start shit with me?
Me: Dude, I think you lost your shirt.
Kid: Huh, you wanna be a tough guy faggot, lets go!
Me: No dude, seriously I can help you look for it if you want. It must be around here somewhere. Have you been taking Creatine?
Kid: Who the fuck are you?
Me: I have the ninth most read blog in the country
Me: Where's your blog ?

Ah, those words are going to get me into trouble one of these days. Scarface, hearing the commotion comes into the hallway.

Scarface: Dude what the fuck? I knew it. I leave you guys alone for five fucking minutes.

Lucky for me the kid's girlfriend finally got him in the room. First night of spring break in the books.

Spring Break in New England

2009-03-02T19:02:00.004-05:00

Oh don't worry. I haven't forgotten about Italian Joe. I have some good dialogue going that I could post, but I'm going to hold off until it exceeds the rigorous standards that I have for this project. He's on vacation for a few days so we all just have to wait it out.

In the mean time, we're going to start a new segment called "Spring Break in New England". And why not? New England is a beautiful place to spend two weeks in March. I consider Massachusetts to have all the amenities of a Key West or a Cancun...without the beaches, hot chicks or bathing suits.

To make the most out of Spring Break in New England, my friends and I are going to have to embody the spirit of spring break. Here are our stories.

Wednesdays Blog*

2009-02-17T16:51:00.002-05:00

Let me start by saying this is one of the more fucked up things I've ever done. I mean the lengths in which I went for this post were by far more than any other, including my seven day fast.

But for the sake of good blogmanship I'll have it up at 11 AM tomorrow morning. Because tonight, I feel a little bit different. I feel like I'm sort of changing into somebody else...

Convo with Ben

2009-02-11T17:04:00.013-05:00

bigboysdutchrudder: got a new job today
bigboysdutchrudder: im not on the marketing team for gixxernation
Goldenarm009: your not?
bigboysdutchrudder: yeah
Goldenarm009: i don't understand
Goldenarm009: so wheres ur job if its not at gixxer
bigboysdutchrudder: it is at gixxer
Goldenarm009: u said its not
bigboysdutchrudder: i accidently put not in that sentence
Goldenarm009: im not going to kill you

Master Cleanse Day 7 and Conclusion

2009-02-09T23:15:00.015-05:00

Starting Weight: 211
FINAL WEIGHT: 203

(not sober at all)

MD: cant believe you got thru a whole friggin week without eating one single solitary smackeral of food. god bless you. you've given everyone with a lil pudge or a muffin top hopeee

While losing weight wasn't the only goal of this project, it should be addressed that I lost 8 fucking pounds in 7 days. How crazy is that. I'm truly an inspiration to many.

I wouldn't recommend this to anyone trying to lose weight though. There are way easier and healthier ways to lose weight than starving the shit out of yourself.

It's sick to be able to do something that no one else thought you could do though. That's mostly the reason I did this. It's a test of mental strength, physical restraint, and self control. Bow to your Sensei.

For those of you wondering what I made for my first meal back in action, here it is:

Two glasses of Evan Williams
Nachos with sour cream and salsa
AND Spaghetti with meatballs and meat sauce

And I ate myself absolutely retarded. I mean I really pigged the fuck out. I was lying in bed trying to sleep and i had to keep my hands above my head to give my lungs room to expand. I felt like such shit that my girlfriend had to come over and talk me down from the roof. So if you're going to be dumb enough to try this, promise me you take it easy on the eighth day.

And now we can finally bid this project fucking adieu.

Anyone need a lemon juicer?

Master Cleanse Day 5, 6

2009-02-08T17:28:00.003-05:00

Starting Weight: 211
Weight: 205

Day 5 was pretty hard. I woke up at 3pm and didn't even bother to take my drink. I didn't consume any calories at all and i felt pretty horrible but it's my own damn fault.

Tonight is the end of Day 6 and I am very excited to get this fucking thing over with. One day to go, and not a single morsel of solid food has graced my mouth. All I can do is sit here and watch Pregnant for 46 Years on the freakishly awesome TLC network, and pray that I survive through Day 7.

Also, I was watching the Grammy's tonight (gay I know) and my favorite band of all-time blink-182 announced they were getting back together. Fucking right. Mark said on his blog they will be coming out with a new album this summer so if that's not enough motivation to not die of starvation then nothing is.

Master Cleanse Day 4

2009-02-06T19:00:00.003-05:00

Starting Weight: 211
Weight: 204.5

Day 4 sucked. I've had a vicious headache all day, which I think is because I'm dehydrated.

The thing that's weird is that I haven't been hungry at all this entire project. I would love to eat something, don't get me wrong, but it hasn't gotten to the point where I would eat a dead bird or go all Bear Gryllis on a raw fish.

I'm going out (sober of course) so nothing big tonight.

Master Cleanse Day 3

2009-02-05T22:11:00.000-05:00

Starting Weight: 211
Weight: 205.5

I got a question from a dedicated viewer today so I thought I'd address it.

KL: have you master cleansed anything out of your ass yet?
KL: i think that has to be mentioned in the blog posting
KL: haha
KL: is it really living up to the master cleanse name?

Few and far between my friends.

You see, I have neglected to tell you about the fact that you're supposed to take a laxative with the diet. If your body doesn't take in any food, your metabolism kind of slows down, and you stop shitting. That's why you have to drink a couple glasses of delicious salt water just to "evacuate".

My stomach is always growling like an angry prehistoric beast, yet the hunger pangs have escaped me. Today, Ben (the internet's biggest sensation) put a Dorito chip on my chest to try and fuck with me. I stared at it for a few seconds, called it a little bitch, and threw it on the floor, where Ben proceeded to eat it. Nice.

Master Cleanse Day 2

2009-02-04T21:32:00.000-05:00

Starting Weight: 211
Weight: 209.5

Mind over meal. Mind over meal.

The reality of what I just did is starting to set in and my dark side is trying all of these rationalizing techniques to try and thwart my mission.

"Did you really think you can not eat for a whole weak? Just eat a little bit here and there, no one has to know. It'll be our secret. Go on, take a little bite of pasta..."

"Fuck off basic human instincts", I say. It's a wicked mental game you play with yourself. Every instinct in your body is saying "eat that pizza ", and you have to tell it to screw. It's like standing up to a bully. A delicious, pepperoni bully.

I like to consider myself a sort of superhero if you will, fighting against food in a world where Gluttony and Sloth are not only sins, but hip, trendy baby names.

But still, Day 2 is in the books and I've been completely food free.

Master Cleanse Day 1

2009-02-03T20:36:00.005-05:00

Starting Weight: 211

Here's what the drink is made of:
1 cup fresh-squeezed lemon juice (like 4 lemons)
1 cup organic maple syrup
1 tsp cayenne pepper
11 cups water

1 cup of salt water before bed

Well Day 1 is in the books. The drink really doesn't taste as bad as I thought. I figured the cayenne pepper would make it taste like a burrito, and while it does add a little spice, it's not overpowering. The maple syrup goes well with the lemons. It's definitely drinkable.

You would think my sister sending me pictures of this would rattle me. I really haven't had the urge to eat today as bad as I thought. I passed a Wendy's tonight and I looked down on it with disdain. I know it's the first day, but I'm feeling confident about this. I've gone days without eating before. I just have to stick to my mantra, "mind over meal". So far, so good.

Also I gotta find a better way to juice the lemons. That shit sucks.

The rest of my suffering can be seen under the Master Cleanse Diet Project header on the left side of the page.

Lemons, Maple Syrup, & Cayenne Pepper Diet Prologue

2009-02-02T18:00:00.011-05:00

The diet is called the Master Cleanse, but it's basically a fast. You mix juiced lemons, maple syrup and cayenne pepper with water and thats all you eat for 7 days. No food, no alcohol, no tobacco. People lose like 10 pounds or more and it supposedly does all this mumbo jumbo shit to your metabolism and GI tract and eliminate toxins and all this bullshit. Whatever. If you take in 500 calories a day your gonna lose weight anyway. I think its a hoax really.

The real reason I'm doing it is to see if I can get through it. It is going to be mentally draining and a real test of body, mind, and spirit. I have to become one with the diet. We'll see how it goes. No food for 7 days. Starting tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Oh, and props to everyone who voted for banging ugly chicks.

Don't Call Me Dale

2009-01-30T10:06:00.002-05:00

Whenever I'm out in public, at least 6 people come up to me and tell me I look like Dale Earnhardt Jr. One time on a cruise I was making my way to the casino when I was accosted by this elderly southern couple. They were convinced I was really Dale Jr. and insisted that I sign their shirts and take a picture with them. I had no idea how to spell Earnhardt, so i just scribbled Dale and put a little star next to it. Idiots.

One time at a Sox game the lady sitting behind us tapped me on the shoulder and said "You know, you look at lot like Kevin Federline". I said "Thank you." She followed that up with, "oh honey, that's not a compliment", and she laughed and laughed.

Fuck my life.

David Thorne Read My Blog Once

2009-01-29T00:22:00.006-05:00

If you stumbled here by chance, stick around and maybe read what my site is best known for, The Amy Martin Project.

Here's the deal. I started this blog after reading David Thorne's blog 27bslash6.com

He is a huge inspiration for me. Anyway I shot him an email and I got a response back so I figured I'd post it in some Christmasy colors as a metaphore for what it was like when I opened my email.

You have the funniest blog I have ever read, and I consider you one of my personal heroes. I think you are a genius and if you ever have a chance check out my blog, I'd be honored.

www.ItsAlwaysSunnyInOrono.blogspot.com

You were a major inspiration for me and I really hope you have time to check it out.

Brett

Hello Brett

I am sending you this electronic mail on the internet. Thank you for yours.

I had a look at your blog, '"riding his motorcycle through the drive through and watching Too Fast, Too Furious with his cat Whiskers." made me laugh. I like your writing style a lot and think you are better at it than me so I appreciate your praise.

Regards,
David

So if you haven't already, head over there now and check it out. Thanks David.

Ben's Friend

2009-01-28T23:28:00.003-05:00

My inbox has been swamped with requests from people around the country that want to see more Ben, thus I have uploaded another picture of him to get you through the day.

Please ignore the rubber sex toy on the coffee table. I assure you he was just cleaning it for a friend, as it does not belong to him anymore.

The Internet's Biggest Sensation!

2009-01-27T12:30:00.002-05:00

Well after my last post, an overwhelming number of people wrote in wanting to see more Ben. It seems he's become an even bigger overnight sensation than the numa numa guy. Well, here he is.

Ladies and gentleman, Ben.

Don't let this video fool you, Ben is a great guy. He once donated half his life savings ($23) to a disabled veterans fund. When hes not sharing his homemade hamburgers and Diet Coke with the area's starving hobo population, he volunteers at his local animal shelter cleaning up after sexually abused border collies.

Always the avid feminist, Ben never passes up the chance to publicly speak out against rape and gay marriage. And Ben doesn't just practice safe sex...he preaches it. He knows all too well the dangers of premarital, postmortem intercourse, as any well rounded honor student should.

Ben someday hopes to get his degree in "surfin' the net", often spending hours watching his favorite viral Halo cartoons on Youtube. He is also an avid softcore porn enthusiast. He enjoys the soothing ballads of Taylor Swift, riding his motorcycle through the drive through, and watching Too Fast, Too Furious with his cat Whiskers.

If you see him around campus, don't be shy. Just because he's the biggest internet sensation since Chocolate Rain doesn't mean hes any different than you and me. Well, maybe hes a little different.

I'm Back Baby

2009-01-26T16:58:00.003-05:00

I've been recording pretty much anything and everything lately on my new camera so I'll start editing and posting some shit this week. Like Ben for instance, gracefully putting away this roast beef sandwich. Nice.

Painted "Chests"

2009-01-15T12:37:00.000-05:00

For those of you that don't know me, I'm a huge Duke basketball fan. Me and TPiddy flew down to Florida State and my awesome sister got us tickets. But our motto is "Go big or go home," so we decided to forgo all sense of self preservation and paint our chests blue and white. Here's what we did.

First, we infiltrated enemy lines by posing as FSU Law School students.

Then, we struck up a conversation with this black gentleman about some landmark cases we had been working on. We were throwing out esoteric jargon like "Defendant" and "Bailiff" and he totally believed us. Then in mid-sentence we pulled off our shirts to reveal our true colors. He was like "Damn!"

At halftime, in between taking a piss and buying another beer, we found time to pose with this high priest.

Everyone was staring at us, swearing at us and shitting on us the whole game, and I'd just point to the scoreboard and pretend that I actually had some other affiliation with Duke besides just rooting for a bunch of college kids my age with way more going for them in life.

I loved Duke growing up, which is why we didn't mind posing with this handsome young man who wanted a picture with us.

And that's about it. It was a fucking awesome time.

I got some boys coming up to Maine this weekend so I'll probably be pretty busy driving someone to the hospital or making a statement downtown. I'm working on something for Monday though so enjoy the freezing fucking cold weekend.

I'm a Prick

2009-01-13T09:05:00.008-05:00

Dude i know. I haven't posted in like 8 days. I've been on vacation. Now that I'm back, my computer has a virus and can't connect to the internet. It's a $1,200 computer capable of completing the most incredible of tasks and yet I can't get it to connect to the goddamn internet. I even tried plugging it in. WIN32 keeps crashing, whatever the fuck that is. My IPod connects to a wireless signal. Christ my damn Xbox360 even connects to the internet.

But then again I don't sit on my Xbox360 all day and download porn either.

Anyway, I'm at the library right now working on something good for you bastards to read tomorrow.

The Incredible Hulk

2009-01-05T16:47:00.009-05:00

We've been going to Florida every year since I can remember, and this damn abomination of a "ride" has always haunted my dreams. I really don't like heights or roller coasters. At all. And even if you didn't mind heights, I don't know how anyone can deem this fun. It's a stressful bitch of a time and I hate it.

Every year I psych myself up and tell myself I'm gonna do it and then I get out there and see that big green bastard and hear people screaming for their lives and say fuck that. Then Mum and Michelle would give me their purses and I'd sit there by myself like a bitch for an hour holding two purse. Eleven year old girls would walk past me and say "Nice purse fag." and I'd just sit there staring emptily into space, doing my best Doug Flutie Jr. impression so I wouldn't have to answer them.

This year my sister made fun of me so much that I cried and finally went on the damn thing.

Dinner Show

2009-01-05T16:38:00.006-05:00

Me Michelle and Mum went to a dinner show the other night. It was in this big upside down building. It was a magic/comedy show, and I thought it was hilarious. But then again, I have a really retarded sense of humor. I was the only one laughing.

Happy New Year

2009-01-05T16:24:00.005-05:00

In Florida suckers. Duke game Saturday, Ill try and post a vid from the FSU student section, if Tyler and I don't get kicked out by then. More stuff to come if I have time today.

The Learning Channel

2008-12-28T19:37:00.007-05:00

TLC. What a dynamic station. I love it. It's great to be able to watch "What Not to Wear" followed by a show about conjoined twins. It's so versatile. I can get my fashion advice and satisfy my morbid curiosity for freaks without ever changing the channel. I'm very curious about the world around me. I love freaks AND fashion, and TLC gets that.

And its not just all about conjoined twins either. Theres a myriad of different types of freaks. A family of midgets, mermaid women, thousand pound fatsos, and many other exotic freaks from around the world.

Half Man, Half Tree follows the sad story of a man named DeDe who apparently has bark for skin. A bark face, a bark back and a bark ass. Sad really. Although it would be really easy for him to catch birds.

I'm Sorry for Cursing

2008-12-26T23:14:00.010-05:00

Well I got fucked yet again tonight. And not in the good way. More like the way in which a 7 point underdog team upsets a team coming off a 52 point offensive explosion and is essentially playing a home bowl game. It's bowl season, the time of the year where, in theory, I have my best chance to win money. I'm not off to a good start after Florida Atlantic upset Central Michigan tonight in the Music City Bowl.

I could probably write an entire book on all the ways in which teams I bet on manage to fuck me big time. But I wont bore with you with the stupid stuff like bad poker beats or meaningless $10 Pitts bets. Just the excruciating, makes-me-wish-I-owned-a-hand-gun losses that cost me significant amounts of money and pissed me significant amounts off.

#4 Take the 2002 National Championship game for instance. I was a bright eyed youngster, naive to the harsh and unforgiving world of gambling. I had the game on lock down until a phantom bullshit pass interference call on 4th down in overtime came in 10 seconds after the damn whistle, and allowed the 11.5 point underdog Buckeyes to upset Miami and send moths flying out of my wallet. Fucking Craig Krenzel.

#3 How about late in the 2007 season when the Sox bullpen blew a 5 run lead in the 8th inning against the damn Yankees. "We certainly feel like we stole it," said A-Rod after the game.

Yeah, how about I steal your wife's alimony check to cover the gambling losses you cost me you cheating asshole.

#2 Of course I can't leave out my trip to Foxwoods where I wore a groove in the carpet walking from the blackjack table to the atm. I lost 5 straight hands in which I went to the atm, sat down and cashed in my chips, put 100 bucks on a hand, lost, and walked back to the atm. You know you're embarrassing yourself when the dealer pulls you aside and says "hey kid, are you sure you want to do this? I know I'm a dealer but I have a kid your age and this is really difficult to watch".

#1 Occasionally, I do win. My thing though is that I don't know when to stop. In Aruba I turned 50 bucks into 800 over the course of the vacation. But when our flight was delayed due to snow at Logan, I went back to the casino. Nothing is better than the feeling of blowing 800 bucks in ten minutes, only to have to sit on a fucking plane for 7 hours to think about it.

I don't always like to bet on sports either, I love to give the hounds a little action. And I don't just pick the cutest dog name or my 3 favorite numbers, I make educated decisions based on every single imaginable statistic you can have about a fucking dog. But in the end it doesn't really matter because I never fucking win anything.

Edit: #1.5 I had six hundred dollars on the Duke, Wake Forrest game, where Duke was upset by a Wake Forrest bucket with 2.4 seconds left. FML

Sick

2008-12-22T19:20:00.008-05:00

It's Monday night in the Tritown, and I'm sitting here drinking brandy and watching Click for the 9th time in 3 days. It sucks because I can't even hear the damn tv over my perpetual sneezing. And I'm not one of those people that sneezes like a neutered kitten either. A Davison sneeze is a violent nasal explosion.

I think it really feels good to fill the air with a fine mist of bacteria. It is the season for giving after all. It would suck being the only one in your family with Salmonella or Epilepsy. Just let a good sneeze go in your brother's sandwich or your uncle's chowder and share the wealth.

"Hey Mary, I didn't know you were dyslexic." "Yeah my cousin sneezed in my eggnog, the bastard."

Investment Real Estate

2008-12-17T02:11:00.012-05:00

Investment real estate. It's dirt cheap land in undeveloped areas that may someday increase in value and make you a fortune. Sometimes you can find sweet ones. I bid on this property. Yeah, it's a humble 0.06 acres of undeveloped land and yes, it's on the side of a hill/mountain with no roads leading to it (yet), but it is in Laguna Beach. I figure, I can always build like a cool lopsided hill fort or maybe dig like an underground cavern or even just a foxhole, something to call home. The auction has 11 days left, but tonight I am the high bidder.

I lay awake tonight and think about what it will be like, stealthily crawling out of my Laguna Beach hillside foxhole, pausing a moment to put on my camouflage face paint. Somewhere off in the distance I hear a mating call of a wild coyote. It is arid, but a bead of sweat collects on my brow. I wipe it immediately with my forearm, and press on.

A cricket is chirping to my left. I grab him and eat him for sustenance. It's the only thing I've eaten in days.

Creeping silently along the moonlit Hills, I finally reach Lauren Conrad's mansion. To my surprise, Lauren's bedroom window is slightly ajar. I carefully and quietly open the window just enough to squeeze my body through. I'm almost inside when suddenly the laces of my boot get caught on her window sill and I loudly flop onto the floor.

Lauren wakes up in a daze and screams, threatening to call the police. I tell her I'm merely looking for my lost pet, and ask her if she's seen him. I don't want to look foolish, so I use a common pet name like Rover or Dexter Morgan. Lauren loves animals.

The two of us are finally alone, and in this moment we are one. Connecting on such a deep level, we allow ourselves to be swept up in the moment, and we move closer.

"Lauren, I have waited so long for this moment", I profess.

"Please, call me LC"

My dream is about to come true. My heart is racing. Lauren looks deeply into my eyes, leans in real close, and says, "Is that a rash on your neck?".

Gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.

Dreams

2008-12-16T15:18:00.007-05:00

"Dude, i always have these weird dreams". Yeah? who the fuck doesn't. You don't need to preface your dumb story by telling me it's weird. No one dreams about doing the dishes or taking a shit. They are all fantastically weird.

One time I got the uncontrollable urge to share a dream I had with a gentleman at Dunkin Donuts. I remember riding a big shaggy dog through downtown Baghdad delivering pizza. Then I realized the guy I delivered to was a guy I used to work with. It was awesome.

I could tell the gentleman didn't think it was so awesome, because before I could finish my dream summary, he reared back and punched his teenage daughter in the face.

I think I heard somewhere that the daughter used to shoplift from Sears. The gentleman and I soon got our coffees and bagels. I guess it kinda worked out good for everybody.

It's Always Sunny in Orono

2008-12-16T14:10:00.004-05:00

I have to say Orono, Maine does get a lot of sun. Well, not a lot of sun. Actually, more like a regular amount of sun.

I mean, as long as its day time that big yellow bitch is gonna be up there doing his thing. If it's overcast it's not the suns fault. It's the fucking clouds that ruin the fun.

The other night I was sitting by myself in the dark watching The Office, untill the evening news came on. A weatherman spoke that looked a little like David Blaine, but with much bigger gums.

He said profoundly, "I hope you all enjoyed the sun this week, because Saturday will be cloudy".

I said, "No, you idiot. Saturday will be sunny... but with clouds."