June 30, 2012

The Way I Write My 7s

My poor blog. It's gathering dust.

Lately, for the first time in my life, I've been getting a lot of shit over how I write the number 7.

For reference, this is how I do it:

The one on the right is when I'm in a hurry, like running from hippos.
Yes. I cross my 7's. Big whoop, wanna fightaboutit?

Well even if you don't, a lot of other people I've encountered lately do. For example, I went to the bank and writing the number 7 was involved in a deposit I was making, and the teller was like "What is this? A 2?" And I was like "Umm... it's a 7 you dumb bitch." I mean, seriously. Here's a side-by-side comparison of my 2 and 7:

The 7 won, thanks to its +7 morningstar.
How the hell could you confuse those? I mean, perhaps if you asked me "Is that an F or a 7?" I wouldn't think you were so mentally inept (still slightly, though). But a 2?! Come on. This bitch was a bank teller. I'm sure she's seen far crazier 7s in her day.

I've always crossed my 7s. That's just how I roll. Not crossing them feels wrong to me. And now people wanna tell me I'm doing it wrong? Please. I'm a grown-ass man.

Here is a list of reasons why crossing your 7s is a good idea:

1. It's classy.

That's all. It's simply classy. It gives your seven an air of finesse that cannot be rivaled by the regular, ho-hum, uncrossed seven. Or maybe that's just me being defensive because of how appalled I was to get shit for the way I write my fucking 7s. 

Why would you ever criticize someone, so matter-of-factly, for the way they write any number or letter?

"Oh, that's how you write your Os? Like an oval? Eww. Gross. Go back to school"

What a stupid ass thing to complain about. Like, I understand if your writing looks like this:
As cool as it is for your writing to look like graffiti... no one can fucking read it.
Yes, then it would be okay to tell you "Dude. Seriously? Are you sitting on a washer?"

Or even if your writing looks like this:

As cool as it is to write in cursive... it's not at all cool to write in cursive.
Again, in this instance, it would be okay to say something like "Are you drawing fractals or trying to tell me something?"

But my writing looks like this:

It's cool to print. The only thing cooler is calligraphy.
So, in my opinion, it's NOT okay to tell me how to make letters and numbers. ESPECIALLY MY GODDAMN 7s!!! >:O

Have a good day.

June 17, 2012

The Drunken Donuts Guy

Gotta thank my friend Merry for the title. It's the perfect one for this story. 

Last year, around Christmas, my whole family gathered at my sister's house in Chicago. One day, my other sister and I got bored and she decided she wanted lentil soup at this one Arabic restaurant nearby NOW. And I was like OKAY LET'S GO.

We speak to each other via shouts in the loving way only family can.
So we hopped in the car and went. The place was not too busy but there were more people there than I thought there would be. Enough, anyway, to make the next event even more traumatizing.

There we are, sitting, eating our soup, and shit talking everyone else in the restaurant when all of a sudden my sister chokes on her soup and looks at me more terrified than a baby seal staring an orca in the face.

"What? What the fuck's wrong with you?", I said, abrasively.

"Noor. Oh my God", was her only reply.


"Oh my God."


"Noor. Wow."

"Tell me!"

"Holy shit. Wow. Oh my God."

"Will you please just fucking tell me what's going on? Should I stop eating my soup?"

"Did you see that man?!"She asked suddenly.

"No, what man? I was too busy wondering what you were freaking out about."

"His dick was hanging out of his pants!"


"UHH YEAH! And he just went into the bathroom. You're gonna see him when he comes out. Tell me if it's still out."

"What?! No! You're sick."

"Oh my God here he comes" she said after whipping around to stare down the bathroom door.

Sure enough, this really tall, really wide, really old man comes walking out of the bathroom, clutching his pants up with both hands, dick a-swinging around all disgustingly and profanely. I, too, choked on my soup and nearly threw up.

"That's fucking sick" I finally managed to say.

My sister wasn't paying attention. The man was passing by our table and she was looking at him really pissed-like. She's really vocal and confident so she yells out "Sir do you know your dick is hanging out?"

Censored for your protection.
He apparently didn't hear her as he just waltzed out of the restaurant. Everyone else in the place looked mortified, and obviously it was all the buzz as far as conversations went. My sister and I lost our appetites and went to the car.

"I want a donut", she said, out of nowhere.

"What? Really? After that, you want a donut?" I replied.

"Yes. Dunkin' Donuts is right there. Let's go."

I looked over at it and noticed that the creepy man was walking into the Dunkin' Donuts next door to spread his drugged debauchery about over there. 

"You only wanna go there to accost that dude" I said.





She never ate her donut, by the way. Which was fine because I did.
So we went. The poor little Indian lady behind the counter looked so terrified. He was just standing there in front of her, dick out, trying to order a coffee, but he was so drunk that he didn't even know what he was talking about. She was just shaking her head and telling him she wanted him to leave. We got two donuts and waited.

Looking back, I don't think the cashier's hair looked like that.
 The following conversation occurred verbatim, I kid you not.

"Sir, do you know your dick is hanging out?" My sister said the moment we got our donuts.

This time he heard her. He turned around and said, "So what? Are you gonna send me to prison?"

"No, sir, but I will call the cops. You're fucking disgusting."

"No, YOU'RE fucking disgusting. I just wanna drink my coffee and put sugar in it okay?!"

"Well you can certainly stir your coffee with your disgusting tiny ass dick. Pull your pants up."

"NO. Are you gonna buy me a belt?"

"Sir, there are children around and you're sick."

"What are you, a school teacher?", he drunkenly blubbered.

At this, I piped up and said "Well, actually..."

"Shut up Noor," my sister said. "Sir, the cops are here, look." They were. Someone from the Arabic place must have called them and they wanted to arrest that dude. We took our donuts and left, mostly at my urging. Well, completely at my urging.

On the way out we passed a cop and my sister said "You need to arrest him" in stride. The cop nodded and said "Did he hurt you?". My sister replied "Only my eyes". 

When we got in the car, my sister made me drive around so she could get a picture of the cops arresting him. She did, kinda, but I just wanted to leave. She proceeded to tell everyone back home the story in full detail, which was gross, but also unforgettable. 

See? In the blue jacket? That's a pervert, kids.
 So... yeah. That's the Drunken Donuts Guy.

June 13, 2012

The BS 4 - "My Water Got Shut Off"

Wow I almost ran out of time. But here it is, as promised, before it was no longer today.

I am here today to tell you a really ridiculous story. Hopefully, you guessed it was unrealistically ridiculous when you saw it was a BS story. But if you read this one and think it's the worst luck a person could have, wait until I tell you the one about the parade.

So, for those of you who have been paying attention, the apartment I lived in when I was in Brazil was owned and paid for by my boss. That included the utilities, which was a pretty sweet deal.

But, two things:

A) Rain happens.


B) When it shits, it pours. ... Wait. I got that wrong. Whatever.

Anyway, one Thursday night as I was mulling about, minding my own business, I heard the distinct gurgling sound of water leaving all the sinks. I've had my water shut off before back in the U.S. so I knew that sound well. But sitting there in the apartment, I thought "There's no way. Why would that happen? I don't even take care of the bill, and I know they paid it... right?"

So I did what any normal person would do and turned on one of the faucets.

Drop drop drop drop drip... drip... spurt... cough... hack... paaahhhhhh. 

"Whatever, it'll be back in the morning" I thought.

It wasn't.

"Whatever, it'll be back after work" I decided.

It wasn't.

I tried the faucets again and similar onomatopoeias as the last three times I tried happened.

"No more water" I realized. I felt like... well... this:

Only with much less water.
 The first logical conclusion I came to was that my boss hated me and was out to ruin my life because I was just some stupid American.

That wasn't the case, but whatever.

Do you know the things you can't do when your water is shut off? Here are the top three:

1) Use the toilet. Well, you can, but... you know. With no water, all of your exquisite excrement just sits there and ferments. And by exquisite I mean gag-inducing.

2) Wash dishes. Or anything. So if you cook, your pots and pans are out of commission. Which sucks a lot when you only have one pot and one pan.

3) Shower. Yeah. Did I mention I was in Brazil where it's 80 degrees on a cold day?

Gross. Or, to be PC, natural.
Here are the solutions I came up with to these problems:

1) Try really hard to limit bathroom usage. Be near public restrooms as often as possible.

2) Petition the neighbors for help and hope that they're cool and kindhearted people. (In my case, my across the hall neighbor was a doctor's office that was only open from like 10:00am to 3:00pm two days a week.)

3) Go to work super early and wash your hair and face in the sink. Forget the rest of your body. It's clean, sort of. Apply copious amounts of deodorant. Also known as sink showering.

This is sink showering. Sink showering is basically dumping your head into the sink and getting the place soaked.
Sadly, back in Buttfucknowhere, Brazil, everything was closed from Friday at 5:00pm until Monday morning. And by everything I mean everything, for real. Except the church, which is a story all on its own. And since I didn't realize completely that my water was for sure turned off until Friday after 5:00pm (because I'm optimistic, dammit), I was fucked for at least the weekend. Thankfully, though, the apartments on the other floors of the building were not doctor's offices and the people were... alright.

So Monday, I go to my boss and explain the situation. She's like "Whaaaaaaaaat I pay your bill every month there's no reason your water should be off" and I was all like "Well obviously you're missing some neurons because my water IS OFF." Except I didn't say that.

We went to the water... place. Facility? I don't know. The place you go to pay the water bill if you don't mail it. The bitch there (and I only call her a bitch because she was a bitch) told us that back in February someone forgot to pay the bill.

Did I mention it was October at this time?


So I guess protocol in Buttfucknowhere, Brazil is to shut off the utilities eight months after the bill is late. Meaning that people with luck like mine have to suffer for someone else's mistake. Wonderful. JUST FUCKING WONDERFUL.

We paid the late bill and I asked the woman when my water would get turned back on.

She said, "Well, probably tomorrow."

I said, "Y NOT 2DAY."

She said, "Well... the guy who turns it back on only works until 5."

I said, "...It's 4."

She said, "Yeah he's probably not gonna get to it today, sorry."


Monday's Sun set and I was still waterless.

Tuesday then passed as I stared hopelessly at the kitchen sink.

It would not comply.
They didn't turn it on until Thursday afternoon, and I just thinking like "DUDE TOOK HIS MOTHERFUCKING TIME HUH."

And that, my friends, is plain bad luck.

Man. I'm Lame.

Hi there.

I've been lazy lately (go figure) BUT I have also been writing my next post for a while, so I haven't been completely lazy. Just a little. I have a job now, so give me a break, sheesh.

Anyway, the aforementioned next post will be The BS 4, so I hope that's exciting for you. It's a crazy story. It's all written, I just need to draw the drawings. Considering how stupidly simplistic my drawings are, you'd think I'd have them done by now, right? Wrong. Re: I'm lazy.

I promise that The BS 4 will be posted later today. Well, tonight. Most importantly, before it's no longer today.

In the meantime, since you're here, here's a comic (kinda) I stumbled upon recently:


And here's a NSFW comic I stumbled upon recently:


Life lessons.