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I love metal. I also love chicks. Should be easy enough to combine the two, right? Wrong. Picking up chicks at metal shows is like finding a single needle in 8,000 haystacks. But don’t fret – your pal DJ is here to outline exactly how to go about picking up babes while banging your head.
This chick has another video about dressing like a metal chick. Her first piece of advice is “know the band on your shirt.” Great piece of advice.
What do you do on a Friday night when all the money in your bank account is in default because your stupid cell phone company decides to debit your account twice for no reason, and all you have is two dollars and a poodle full pennies?
Let me tell you- You get drunk! You grab everything in sight and you get your ass to the corner store immediately. When I got to the Saba Grocery Store on Castle Hill Ave I had two objectives.
1. Find the cheapest beer in the refrigerator.
2. Haggle the guy at the counter for a cheaper price because all I had was 2 dollars and a thousand cents.
Objective one was a slice A pie. I found this piece of shit…
… and since it had something growing on the top of the can, was half crushed, ready to explode at any given second and without an expiration date I decided- “hey, this can’t be too bad.” So I grabbed two of them shits!
Ah, but what about all those pennies!?
Fuck yeah. How responsible and Badass can a person look?
Luckily, the guy at the counter was great. He pretty much let me name the price for all the garbage I was buying.
Ghetto Greatness Achieved.
You know what?
If I said that really condescendingly it would be a good insult, but if I say it with a smile it sounds like I am about to tell you something, and I am! There is one thing I like to do before I sit down to write blogs. Nope, guess again, I like to put on some groovy tunes! Well, hey, let’s get real: it’s about a week into December and from what I can remember I am getting weak in the knees with anticipation. Am I anticipating the antifreeze? No! I’m anticipating the poinsettias, mistletoe, wreaths, ivy, holly and evergreens! As I began this blog I put on one of my all time favorite Christmas songs: “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”
Go ahead and press play there, it makes a good background track.
Hello everyone, happy two thousand and fucking ten. In case you didn’t get the MEMO let me give you the low down on what two thousand and fucking ten is all about: A) Never Giving Up, B) Keeping it Lively, C) Bringing Your A-Game and D) DJ Is Going To Write An Album.
With those pointers in mind, let me now let you in on what this blog post is going to be all about. In this blog post, my first of two thousand and fucking ten, I am going to: 1) Refute Some Ongoing Rumors About My Identity, 2) Convince You To Never Give Up, 3) Illustrate How You Can Best Keep It Lively, 4) Explain What Bringing Your A-Game Is All About and 5) Inform You on How To Write and Record an Album Through Eleven Difficult Steps.
And BREAK!
That’s what people say in football once they have highlighted the main points of their next move and are now ready to execute the plan, right?
OK, LET’S GO!
Greetings citizen, yesterday DJ, our friend (but not blog-writer) Luke and I went on one of our weekly hikes and boy-howdy was it a good one. What set this particular hike apart was that I learned a new skill: the ability to track. As of now, I am a bonafide tracker. I can track most anything. You name it, I’ll track it. I’m a regular trackster. But, before I start getting into all the technical mumbo-jumbo, let me start with a definition (most critically acclaimed essays begin by stating a definition directly borrowed from Wikipedia).
Tracking, in hunting and ecology, is the science and art of observing a place through animal footprints and other signs, including: tracks, beds, chews, scat, hair, etc. Specifically, mapping a changing landscape and soaking up sensory data like a sponge.
Wow, exciting right? Let me explain some of the ways I’ve already begun tracking in my everyday life.
Hello everyone, I hope you are having a terrific week so far, I know mine has been pretty mediocre. Today I wanted to address a topic which, while not really in my field of interest, I am oftentimes asked about. That topic is the sensitive issue of foreplay. For those who do not know, foreplay is a romantic activity. An activity popularized by Mr. James Bond. I know I’m typing to a diverse crowd. There are some people who are very open with their sexuality. Then there are other, less whorish, less sinful, people who are preserving the sanctity of their loins for holy matrimony. Today I won’t be addressing either one because I’ve invented something new; it’s called fore-foreplay.
Sometimes I like to just spice it up a little. Nothing crazy, nothing spectacular, I just want to spice it up a little. Just a little. Everyone’s life can become a bit routine, a bit predictable, so its feels good to, you know, just spice it up a little. Not too much, of course, I’m not talking jalapeños or an Angry Whopper, just a little, a teeny-tiny extra bit of spice. It’s nice. You have to just spice it up a little every once in a while. Spice it up. Here are some examples:
I can get pretty crazy when I’m a little spiced up.
