So let’s face it, anyone that has ever had to endure the dating scene for very long has probably had a few experiences where they wished the date was already over. Sometimes, this occurs immediately after meeting your date. I feel bad for these poor schmucks, so in keeping with my how-to series, I’ve put together a little cheat sheet of ways to end a bad date whenever you want. Be aware that some of these ideas are not for the faint of heart, and in some cases, may even be illegal in your area. I will not bail your ass out of jail if it ends up there because you didn’t check your local laws before employing any of my sage-like advice. As usual, this is not a complete guide, just a few idea starters. With that said…
I’ll make the worst-case scenario the first-case scenario, since this is the one that needs the most help.
Scenario 1: Dipshit shows up dressed in duct tape to impress you with his/her craftiness. Appropriate course of action: Insist on driving, and tell the fucking idiot to ride in the back so he has room to get comfortable. Stop by a convenience store, and buy alcohol. Begin the roasting. Make sure all of the child locks on the windows and doors of the car are engaged. Make sure all windows are rolled up. Turn the heat on high. Don’t worry if you begin to sweat, as it will be worth it in the end. As the adhesive on the tape gets warmer, it will become more tacky than when first applied. Continue driving to the most remote destination possible with heat blasting. Stop and fill car up with gas if necessary. Once at destination, apologize to dipshit for driving so far with the heat on, but state that you just wanted to spend some alone time with him. Encourage alcohol consumption to help ease the overheating. Keep the idiot talking and drinking until the alcohol kicks in. When your date expresses that he has a need to go to the restroom, explain that there is none for miles, and recommend that he relieves himself behind a bush. Once they are behind the bush, watch as he struggles to remove the duct tape in time to prevent pissing himself. Due to the extra tackiness of the duct tape, he should fail at this endeavor. Once he has pissed himself, tell him to wait there, you are going to go get something to help. Find the nearest police officer, and explain that a homeless man just tried to get into your car. Take the officer to your drunken, pissed on, duct-tape covered date, and explain “That’s the one officer!”
Scenario 2: Date started out great, but the conversation sucks. Appropriate course of action: Ask date to buy you a beer, a shot of whiskey, and a sex on the beach all at the same time. Since you are a female, the mere mentioning of the word sex will convince your date to buy. When the three drinks arrive, knock back the shot of whiskey, and take the other two with you to the bar. Give the beer to a new guy, and begin a new date.
Scenario 3: Date started out badly, failed to improve. Appropriate course of action: Get date drunk. Really drunk. Insist that you drive, since he is intoxicated. On the way, tell him you think you know where your friend (that’s out of town) keeps her hide-a-key. Pick an apartment building along the way, and ask him to go get the key from under the mat of a random apartment. Tell him if it isn’t there, to knock on the neighbor’s door and ask Jill for the key.The name Jill just sounds like she’s cute, so again, his drunk, horny ass will do it. Explain that the night is about to go from awesome to fucking fantastic! When he is in front of the door of the random apartment, slowly begin to back away, once he starts to look under the mat, feel free to leave.
If you have any other scenarios you need help with, feel free to leave them for me in the comments section. I will be happy to help find you an irresponsible solution to your dating situation. While you’re here, be sure to check out the rest of the Hey Joe! Presents guides. If you’re reading this for some bad ideas, you’ll love the other guides!
Alright, I know I’m not usually this outspoken about my feelings, but Oscar Pistorius is a waste of oxygen. He was what the world needed most; a legend. Someone who could overcome the odds, and rise to greatness not in spite of his obstacles, but because of them. Now, it seems, that the champ has murdered his wife. Not just a wife, a model wife (literally, she’s a fucking model…or, was). From what I gather, it played out like this. They were sleeping. He walked outside without his prosthetics to get a fan from the balcony, came back inside, heard someone in the bathroom, and began blasting holes through the door. His defense is that he thought he heard a burglar. Really? Let me recap: You go outside to get a fan, leaving your smoking hot wife in the bed. When you came back inside, you heard something in the bathroom, and rather than assume she had to be in there, you go all fucking Yosemite Sam, and start blasting away?
What if it was a burglar and he had her in there? You still killed her. Where did you suppose your wife was when you came back inside? Did you think the burglar was David Copperfield, and he made her disappear, so he could steal her panties? What the fuck is wrong with you? That was somebody’s daughter. Someone you don’t give a shit about spent their entire life making sure that their little girl was okay. Making sure that she didn’t get hurt. Making sure she was warm enough, or cool enough. Making sure that she knew everything would always be okay, as long as she kept her little head up. Everything was, until you murdered her you worthless piece of shit.
You are a liar, Oscar. A bad one. It’s a damn good thing you run better than you lie. The only good news in this situation is that in prison, you’ll be just the right height without your legs to be a popular guy. I need to find out how to become a juror in this ridiculous attempt at a murder case. To make shit worse, even the cops where he lives are criminals! The one guy that was leading the investigation had to step down because he has a trial coming up for taking part in a stand there shooting. It’s like a drive by, but you just stand there, and let them drive by you while you shoot the fuck out of them. I guess it’s kinda like Duck Hunt. As long as the courts in wherever the hell this thing is taking place doesn’t pull anymore stunts like letting it slip that Pistorius and the Judge are having an affair, or something O.J. Simpson-esque, this should be a slam dunk. I hope he doesn’t get the death penalty, but life in prison once for being an idiot, once for being a horrible liar, once for shooting through doors and shouting “Come out of there, you long-eared galloot, or I’ma blastin’ ya out!” , once for purposeful destruction of a hottie, and once for being a piece of shit. That’s five life sentences. For a man in prison that is waist level in the shower room, that’ll be just fine.
After the HUGE success of my article on ways to get your ass kicked (http://heyjoeonline.com/2013/02/20/hey-joe-presentsthings-that-will-cause-you-to-get-your-ass-kicked), and by that, I mean all six of my readers liked it, I’ve decided to offer advice to those who wish to seek employment elsewhere. This may help you if you hate your current job, but don’t have the balls to quit. As with my previous how-to guide, this is in no way meant to be a complete guide, merely something to help you form your own bad ideas that will cause errors in judgement. Let’s get to it, shall we?
1. Donuts. Buy a dozen donuts from a local bakery, (not rings, the kind they fill). You could deliver these donuts that appear to be filled, but aren’t. People will be mildly let down, but not angry. This is not our style. Mediocrity serves no one. No, we kick things up to about a 12. Using a cake decorating bag, and a rosebud tip, fill the bag with condiments of your choosing. I choose either Mayo, or sour cream. Not real sour creme, but creme that has gone bad. Insert the tip approximately 1 inch into the donut, and fill. Do not overfill, Use a can of Redi-Whip to fill the holes. Once the donuts are finished, take into work when no one is looking with a sign that states “Help Yourself”.
2. The phone system. Most modern offices are equipped with a central telephone system. These are the type of phones that will let you transfer calls between offices, and join conference calls. To liven things up on a Monday morning, wait until upper management is gathered in the conference room for a call. Minutes before the expected call, dial a sex line, and do a blind transfer (when you transfer a call without it being announced). To further use the phone system to seal your doom, contact the IRS. When you’ve selected the option to report a case of tax fraud, blind transfer to your boss’s voicemail. They love that!
3.The coffee. The key here is to get to work early, (as before) and make coffee as usual. Once the coffee is finished, add two cups of Metamucil. It won’t take long for it to melt, and results will be noticeable.
4. The old “Set my boss’s car on fire trick”. I don’t really need to explain this one, as it is completed the same way as outlined in your “How to be a Total Asshole” booklet.
5. Attend a meeting. Be sure to wear a freshly pressed suit. Whenever your boss begins to speak, stand up, and announce: “I’m sorry Jim, somebody should have told you this by now. We’re letting you go. Cathy from accounting is going to be our new VP. Be sure to clean out your cubical.” Then walk him to the door with a comforting hand on his back. This is extremely effective if his name isn’t Jim, there is no Cathy in accounting, and he doesn’t have a cubical.
6. The engineer. Ever had to put together office furniture? It’s a pain in the ass. Trust me. A great way to become unemployed, is to disassemble everyone in the office’s furniture but your own. Then, be sure to call your boss to let him or her know that you’ll be coming in a few hours late. When asked for the reason, explain that you were up late working on some office furniture.
Obviously, there’s a ton of other ideas that I haven’t mentioned here, but I have to get ready for work. I’m trying to get there early. I have donuts.
My interview with the awesome Essa Alroc on her site Essa on Everything. I used to think the title implied that it was her opinion on a bunch of stuff, however, I’m realizing it’s her on a bunch of illicit drugs all at once. She’s hilarious, yet unrefined!
During the course of a day, I have about a billion ideas. Some good, others….not so much. I was recently interviewed by Essa Alroc from essaalroc.com, and she asked me how often I got my ass kicked while growing up. I told her not often enough, and now that I’ve had time to think about it, I suspect a lot of people could probably use a good ass kicking.
Anyway, I thought I’d give you a few of the ideas that I think would be quite effective at getting your ass kicked. This is based on a few assumptions:
1. You get caught (there is zero chance you won’t get caught).
2. You’re not some Chuck Norris/Stephen Seagal/Jet Li hybrid.
3. You really want to get your ass kicked.
Idea Numero Uno:
Enter a public restroom, and hang out by the sink. Wait for an unsuspecting victim. Depending on their path upon entering, you have three possibilities at engaging in hand to hand combat.
a.) Victim approaches sink beside you. The appropriate response is to cup your hands under the water from your own sink, and throw it onto victims crotch area. State that it looks like “Somebody had an accident.”
b.) Victim stands at urinal. The appropriate response is to walk quietly up behind them, and piss on the backs of their legs. When they ask “What the hell?”, (because they will), tell them you thought they were on fire.
c.) Victim sits down in a stall. The appropriate response is to clog the toilets to either side with paper towels, and flush continuously. Be sure to leave the stall in time to hold the victim’s door shut. When they begin swearing at you, simply state “I’ve got you now, Batman!”
Idea number two:
Find a tall building, and enter the elevator. Wait for unsuspecting victim to enter. At this point, you again are faced with several options depending on their floor of choice.
a.) The victim chooses the next floor. The appropriate response is to continuously place either your hand, foot or briefcase between the doors to prevent them from closing. When victim asks you to stop, tell them to take the stairs, it’s less crowded.
b.) The victim chooses the 19th floor. The appropriate response is to press the button for every floor leading up to the 19th. When the doors open on each floor, ask if this is the victim’s floor.
c.) The victim reaches to select their floor of choice. The appropriate response is to slap their hand away and ask for the password. After 3 failed attempts, tell them they will have to wait 10 minutes to try again. If they attempt to select a floor before the 10 minutes is up, give them a titty twister.
Idea number three:
Go to Wal-Mart and wait for unsuspecting victim. Remember, the stronger looking the better. Guys that look like their name may be “Bruno” or “Sampson” are optimal. Once your target has been selected, choose one of the following options:
a.) Follow them closely, and put one of everything they put into their cart into yours. While their head is turned to look for something on a shelf, toss a few items from your cart into theirs. Continue to do so until your cart is empty.
b.) Follow them closely, and every time their back is turned, remove an item from their cart, and place it into your own. Continue to do so until their cart is empty.
c.) Locate the canned goods aisle. fill your cart approximately 3/4 full. Watch for unsuspecting victim to turn down an aisle. Once they have selected an aisle, enter the aisle from the opposite end. When the victim is only 10-15 feet away, stare at them, and loudly make a “VROOOM-VROOOM!” sound. Once you have their attention, run into their buggy at top speed. Make sure the victim is out of the way to avoid injury. Injured people make terrible ass kickers.
There you have it folks! This is obviously not a complete list, but I hope it’s enough to get you started. If you have any better suggestions, please share! I’d love to hear them.
From my fellow blogger, and one of the funniest people on the planet!
Several years ago I came up with an idea while standing in line for the rest room, which, in this case, was actually a row of six portable toilets set up to meet the needs of approximately 8,000 men, women and children, each of whom had apparently consumed two or more 128-ounce Big Gulps in the previous 20 minutes.
Necessity is the mother of invention. Which is why, as I stood waiting next to a continually running water fountain that was broadcasting every splash over the PA system, I found it necessary to occupy my thoughts with a way to speed up the public commode-using process. This was like trying to take your mind off of having surgery by watching The Medical Channel.
Regardless, it led to a revolutionary idea I call the “Rodeo Commode.”
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I’ve been thinking a lot lately about taking a step back. Not so much in life, but time. I’ve considered the possibilities and problems caused by time travel. I’ve actually given it a considerable amount of thought. I believe I would like to travel in time, but only if the situations were right. At first, I thought that I would try to avoid all of the bullshit that the guy from Quantum Leap had to deal with, not being able to get back to his own time. Then I realized that the ripple effect would destroy my own time, so I would be forced to live with whatever the new situation was. That being the case, I have to wonder what I would change? Obviously, I’m not going to risk my life traveling in time just for the hell of it. Every detail of the past would clearly create some new reality going forward. So many people have impacted the world, surely something could be changed to make the world a better place.
I’ve considered the route of time assassin. Perhaps take out Hitler during his pre-nazi days, or perhaps obliterate Saddam Hussien’s father, thus preventing an era of pain for the Iraqi people. Unfortunately, the more I’ve considered these things, the more I’ve discovered that the results could be quite catastrophic. If I had eliminated Hitler, for example, Germany would have been obliterated. Ruined by poverty, the German people would have starved. It’s really unfortunate that Hitler lost his fucking grip on reality. The man was a brilliant orator, and the Germans would have marched with him into Hell if he’d asked. I guess, in a way, they did. He had a grand plan for Germany that pulled their economy out of the shitter by creating the largest public works projects in the history of the country. People went back to work, fed their families, and built architectural marvels. The “New Germany” was to be the largest collective of engineering feats the world had ever beheld. Had he not lost his mind, he probably would have gone down in the books as the greatest leader of all time instead of the worst villain the earth has seen. No, killing Hitler would not be a good idea. Even trying to reason with the bullheaded bastard would be impossible. Men like Hitler can’t be reasoned with. They are great, determined, nearly unstoppable machines. Their ideals are etched permanently into the fiber of their being. At the same time, I believe if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem. So I’ll leave Hitler alone. Who else could we use to fix the world? The same would be likely for any event of world altering magnitude. That leads me back to the lives of myself, and those around me.
What would I change in my own life, and what would the ripple destroy that I could never get back? I’ve often said that if I could go back, I’d pay more attention in high school. I’d work harder at getting good grades. Maybe spend less time drinking, and more time studying. I have an idea what even that would do. It goes like this: I’d bust my ass to get straight A’s. Maybe graduate at the head of my class instead of 44th. Maybe pick up a scholarship that would let me go to a great school. Get a great job after graduation, and be very successful. At what cost? Graduating 44th of 88 doesn’t land you a scholarship. You don’t get into a great school. You go to State, and take whatever closest resembles something you’d like to do. You get bored. You move out of your home state to find a better job. You meet a girl. You become a husband. You become a dad to three incredible kids. You find yourself struggling through the days, but find that the struggles are generally worth the effort. Life happens. I’ve decided not to interfere with time. If I could go back, as much as I used to think I’d try to make the world a better place, I believe I’d just watch as events happened. I’d just be a guy in the background when time took it’s snapshots of the world. Yep, if I had a time machine, all I’d use it for would be to photobomb the fuck out of history.
How about you? what would you change? What would it cost you?
My friend and fellow blogger, Jeremy Crews (backwoodssurvivalblog.com) does this thing on his Facebook from time to time where he shares random information about himself that the people that really know him well don’t know. I think that’s kind of a neat idea, so I’d like to share a few things about me with whoever finds themselves reading this.
Things You Don’t Know About Me – Part 1
1. I never thought I’d be a writer. In fact, in high school I changed my class schedule to prevent taking keyboarding classes. I remember telling my best friend that it wasn’t something I’d ever need. It’s not like I’m going to work for the newspaper when I graduate. To this day, I still type pitifully slow.
2. I worked at a funeral home during the summers when I was in college. It was a pretty cool gig. I mowed grass, washed the cars, and went with the other guys to get bodies. It totally changed my view of death and religion. Also, it had the added benefit of preventing me from doing stupid shit that kills people. I have seen a bunch of possible candidates for the Darwin Awards. A few probably could have won.
3. I like to be in the spotlight. If there’s any chance to find myself on stage in front of people, I’m there…well, kinda. I don’t do karaoke. If you do, regardless how well you think you sing when you’re shitfaced, you look like a fucking idiot. Oddly enough, although I like to be in front of a crowd, I get nervous being part of a crowd. I just don’t trust them.
4. I graduated from college with a degree in Criminal Justice with honors. I have no intention of EVER using it. Cops always end up one way or the other: a great cop with no pay for working himself to death (sometimes literally), or the arrogant prick that acts like he’s doing the world a favor by being a cop. If the second is you, I mean this in the best possible way; fuck you. You’re the reason guys like me that could be a cop, never ever want to be.
5. I believe legalization of marijuana could end a lot of the problems America has. Obviously, stoners generally lack aggression, but it goes further than that. Legalizing it would remove an entire segment of drug-related crime from America’s criminal justice system. America’s jails and prisons are way too overcrowded, and any relief would be a welcome change. Instead of enforcing the question of legality, why not tax it, and kill two birds with one stone(r)?
6.I’ve driven cross country from North Carolina to California and back over 100 times. Totally unrelated to #5. I used to drive an 18 wheeler to deliver furniture manufactured in High-Point, NC to everywhere out west. Fun fact: a living room set purchased in High-Point for $1,600.00, sells in California for $5,200.00.
7. I’m a reader. Like hardcore. I read between 3 to 4 books at a time depending on what I have available to read, and my mood. Whenever I finish one of the three or four, I’ll generally find one to replace it.
8. I believe the solution to many of America’s problems is for Americans to quit being pussies about their politicians. Check this out, these are current annual salaries:
Majority Party Leader – $193,400
Minority Party Leader – $193,400
Speaker of the House – $223,500
Majority Leader – $193,400
Minority Leader – $193,400
The current salary (2013) for rank-and-file members of the House and Senate is $174,000 per year.
Why are they so high? Why don’t our soldiers get better pay, if we can afford to pay these assholes this much? The answer is simple: Because America isn’t motivated to get rid of these windbags. It’s easier to ignore it, and go back to watching Honey Boo-Boo than to start a movement.
9. I believe in shit that you probably don’t. I believe in both aliens, and ghosts. If you don’t believe in aliens, you’re an idiot. Every star in the sky is a sun similar to our own. All of them, even the ones in other galaxies. If you don’t think there’s any chance that maybe one of them has some prospect of life orbiting it, see my post about high-fives, to the face, with a chair. Ghosts on the other hand, I believe in because of 92 days I spent in a house with one. It did not end well, or quietly for me. Fuck ghosts, and fuck that house.
10. I have a feeling we’re all wrong about religion, and our past. Again this is unrelated to note mentioned above. This isn’t “Ancient Aliens”. If you want details, send me an e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org
^ That dude is not me. Let’s start there…
I’ve struggled with weight management for most of my life. I wouldn’t say I look like the Michelin man, but you won’t be seeing me in any underwear commercials showing off my abs either. With this being the case, I’d like to kick off this post by stating that those of us that are a pound or two overweight (or like 60), need to keep in mind that being fat SHOULD exclude you from certain activities. As you can see in the picture, dressing up for Halloween as a character that is supposed to be skinny, is one such example. This picture looks like John Wayne Gacy knocked up Kirby from Kirby’s Big Adventure. This guy would’ve been better served by going topless, and paying some hot skinny chick to dress up as slave Leia. Somebody get that man a chair…
This post is for all of the people that I have the displeasure of coming into contact with on a daily basis, that I would like to hit in the face with a foreign object of damn near any kind.
1. Anyone, in any store that still pays by check: You need a headshot with a folding chair twice. I can not express how mad I get whenever you are in the line in front of me, and I see you pull out that stupid fucking checkbook. You are the cause of violence in America. Put the checkbook, quill pen, and ink blotter back into your satchel, get into your Edsel, and go home. You are not technologically advanced enough to be out in civilization.
2. People wearing/waving/displaying rebel flag anything. The south lost. It’s a fact. Ask around until you find someone who can read, and have them look it up.
3. People with NASCAR numbers on their vehicles. For whatever reason, these assholes are always the ones that are going to make you late for work because they drive 26 mph under the speed limit. Either speed up, or take that shit off your car. While you’re at it; chair yourself in the face. Speaking of people putting stupid shit on their car…
4. People who put “In loving memory of…” on their car. What are you talking about being “In loving memory of”? You bought a fucking car to remember them? You had a sign shop put a vinyl decal on your window in loving memory? That’s classy! Something else you might try; a chair to the face. You can do it in loving memory of…
5.People who want to convey the meaning of cuss words (curse words, or swear words), but can’t muster the balls to use them. They go out of their way to find a suitable replacement that falls short, yet sounds stupid. They could change their sentence to sound better, but they don’t. It just loses something, I guess. Let’s see. “Tom’s an idiot. He forgot to pay his bill.” That sounds okay. I’m alright with that. They won’t do that though. They need the emphasis: “Tom’s a dumb-butt. He forgot to pay his bill.” No. Tom’s forgetful, and is a dumb-ass for hanging out with you.
6. People that do 100 mph to pull out in front of you, then drive below the speed limit. At the next light, when you see me in your mirror, assume the tire iron is for you.
7. People that talk while they’re in line at a fast food restaurant, then take six weeks to order because they don’t know what they want. Seriously people. I will fucking murder you if you don’t knock it off. It’s McDonald’s. Over 60 BILLION served. 60 Billion, with a b. You know what? It’s the same menu they’ve had the whole time. They change the numbers around, but the menu stays the same. Let me help you out; You’d like a McChicken sandwich, a large fry, a Dr. Pepper, and a McChair to the McFace.
8. Everyone, from every small town, ever interviewed by the local news media. You know you haven’t had all of your teeth since Reagan was president, you’re not wearing a bra, and that mustard stain on your shirt is still there. When you see the news people rolling in the van through the trailer park, stay inside. Even if you do stay inside, take turns with the news people smacking each other with the chair when the camera’s off. You both deserve it.
Just out of curiosity, did I forget someone from your list?
The other night at work, out of the blue, I caught myself singing “Poor Unfortunate Souls” from The Little Mermaid. I have no idea why, but that’s what it was. Then I started analyzing the storyline because when you’re a straight guy and you catch yourself singing music from cartoons, that’s what you do. I realized that I have more than a few problems with Disney movies. Let’s consider “The Little Mermaid” for example. I won’t bore you with telling you the story. If you’re not familiar, you have no frame of reference anyway. Here’s my problem: Ariel supposedly is this great singer. She’s the star of the show. Let’s compare her with a real world performer: let’s use Pavarotti. I think that’s reasonable. Ariel was performing for a king, and so has he. She is the star of the show, so is he. She would be a tremendous loss to the world of music, so would he. Now, let’s do the swap. The movie kicks off with a grand scale musical for the the king. We don’t have a king, but we have a queen. So, we’ll say Pavarotti has spent possibly months in rehearsals in preparation of performing for Queen Elizabeth. The big day arrives, the stage crew has set up the lights, the sound guys have optimized everything for the best possible experience, and the backup singers are dressed and set to go. The curtain comes up. The music starts, the song is near the halfway mark and guess what? Pavarotti’s shot to perform in front of the Queen, and the nation are thrown away. Why? Because he ” forgot” the most important performance of his career? I call bullshit. Ariel never wanted to be a singer. If she did, why would she ever even consider giving up her voice on the off chance of getting a date with a guy? No-one would ever give up a natural ability that they had honed to perfection over the course of a lifetime for just a chance of a date. What is Disney trying to teach kids anyway? Disobediance pays off in the end, if you want it to bad enough? I think so. It worked out ok for Simba on the lion king when he went to the elephant graveyard. Mufasa told him not to, everything worked out ok. Pinocchio was told to go to school, he skipped, hung out with a bunch of thugs, even had a little trip on LSD and hallucinated some serious craziness, and was still ok in the end. Imagine being Princess Jasmine’s dad. She hooked up with some nastys homeless dude. I guess it’s a matter of time before she ends up on the treacherous road that led Snow White to living in the woods with seven guys that look like they could be on Duck Dynasty…poor girl.