So, the first African American President of the Harvard Law Review caused quite a stir the other day. What the fuck was this asshat thinking? You don’t fly a 747 over a city which had its two biggest towers destroyed by passenger planes just seven and a half years ago. Apparently, Air Force One was out of commission and government officials needed to take pics of lower Manhattan. The plane was escorted by a pair of F-16s. The question isn’t why Barack Obama needed to be there instead of just letting the F-16s do all the work and not upset idiots in the city. No, the question here is do the British actually use the word “areoplane” over airplane?

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There is a ton of evidence finally being associated with me and it’s high time we acknowledge it. I’m finally being accepted as a straight twenty-something guy. In the four years since I’ve left High School, I have  let H&M, my fragile bones and my love for colors allow me to appear like a homosexual. While, I don’t have anything against gay men, I think it’s important for people to realize I am not one.

Let’s take a look at my progression from “fashion forward” to “don’t touch me or I’ll have DJ knock your teeth out.”

Here’s the earliest picture of me on Facebook:

Look at this guy! Just in some typical lounge wear, you know straightened hair, a painted American Apparel track jacket, patched jeans. I’m not trying at all! What? You want to make out and listen to some indie British bands? Well OK!

See the rest of the fellas on the runaway after the jump…

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Hello internet world, its me, your American Hero with another movie review. This time I’m soder and ready to rip the shizzle out of one of the worst movies of all-time. So hold onto your keyboards as I go off on this terrible movie.

So I get to the theatre a little outside San Jose to see The Knowing. I knew very little about the movie except that it was about the end of the world and one of my favorite actors, Nicolas Cage, was in it. So I was pretty amped up for this movie and ready for Nicky boi to put an end to the end of the world. So after buying my ticket at the great price of 4.50!…unheard of in San Jose…I got some popcorn and a little so-derrr pop and headed into the theatre.

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This past weekend my good friend Luke sent me a wake up call, asking if I would like to go with him to a sweet lodge. I thought to myself, “Yikes, this is going to severely interfere with my Saturday afternoon calisthenics routine down by the sound,” but then I thought “Aw heck, I’ll go anyway. After all, this sweet lodge sounds pretty sweet.” Twenty minutes and an orange later, I was in Luke’s hotrod, on my way to the sweet lodge. Little did I know, I was in for one of the sweatiest days of my life.

Why was my day sweat-drenched? It all comes down to a simple mis-communication. I thought that Luke, who has a very strong and noticeable Staten Island accent, said SWEET lodge, but in reality he had said SWEAT lodge. Though the difference here is only one letter (that letter being A) the implications are significant. What did I expect? I imagined a lovely gingerbread house, with candy cane gutters, a twizzler garden hose and a gumball compost pile out back. I pictured a nice little candy lodge, something straight out of Hansel and Gretel. Well, the experience was like Hansel and Gretel…in the sense that I felt trapped in an oven for two hours.

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I thought Kim Kardashian was just a gorgeous, mindless, single slut- but I was totally wrong: she is not single. Apparently, she has been dating Reggie Bush, who was also, apparently, carved from ivory ebony. For the past few years I thought Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were the best looking couple possible. WRONG. Take a look at these two people who are of solely physical worth:

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I like to have a good time! If you can’t stomach that fact, then it’s high time you got on out of here, because that, my friend, is an unquestionable truth. I like to have a good time. DJ likes to have a good time. Peter Paul Marsh III (American Hero) loves to have a good time. Of course, Chachi likes having a good time. Frank can have a good time. Even Patty, that old, puritanical, straight-laced lesbo, likes to have a good time sometimes. Everyone here at SmartassRadio likes to have a good time. Essentially, having a good time is what we’re all about.

When you’re having a good time you don’t want to be making decisions. And if you do need to make a decision, you want to make it fast. Still, sometimes making a decision can be difficult. Especially, when that decision involves the good time you are about to have.

Imagine the scenario: You’re standing in your kitchen getting ready to party. You are just on the brink of it, and you can smell the good times ahead. Then two of your best buddies walk in. One says: “Yo man, you ready to go bananas?” and the next says, “Hey bro, you want to go hog wild?”  What are you going to choose?

Filbert doesn’t do either.

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Roy and I get a few magazines delivered to our house that neither of us has a subscription for: Us Weekly, OK! Weekly, Vibe, Entrepreneur and the occasional J&R Cigar catalog. We’ve been living in our current place for almost two months and I had thought I’d seen it all. I was so fucking wrong. Last week I opened the mailbox to discover the following visual travesty:

I don’t know if it’s more shocking that we will now receive this magazine for god knows how
long or that someone who once lived in our relatively shitty apartment had a job AND kids.

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