A message for you ladies.

It's Thursday night and I'm fucking baked.  You can't fuck with this, haters.

Ladies, two words.  The fuck?  You ladies flaunt your new found independence - oh wait...  Your independence is old news, get back in line 'cause you're doing it wrong.  Men don't flaunt their independence, why?  'Cause we've been running shit since my grandmother was humping Zeus, believe it.  Men know how to use their independence, we don't let it run to our heads.  Sure, we might exert our power to do whatever the fuck we want, but we keep a delicate balance in society.

Once women suddenly get a role of influence in the world everything is suddenly in decay.  2012 is upon us because women can't remember their gender role.  Sounds sexist but in reality it's science.  Humans are matriarchal by nature and you women are ruining that part by creating stay-at-home dads and day cares.  Best kind of day care?  Your mother, the person who knows you inside and out.  Your mother also gives me night care.  That's a blowjob when the sun goes down for those who aren't following.

Fact of the matter remains.  You got some power, now be responsible with it or else you're gunna ruin the entire world.  

Gimme some skin.

Time to turn some haters into appreciaters.

I don't think black people understand that white people have one less sense than them.  It's either that or black people have yet to realize that they have one more sense than white people.  And guess what?  While you're at home reading this with your daddy playing hide the banana in the babysitter AKA the television (your dad has sex with televisions) I'm over here cracking codes and writing this bullshishe.  Pay attention.

Black people have a sixth sense that's better than getting vomited on by ghosts, it's called skinse.  Yeah, I just came up with it and you're gunna like it.  Skinse is the ever-strengthening power in which a black person can anticipate the kind of skin he's gunna receive from his man.  For you honky hillbillies, that means a black person knows what kind of handshake he's gunna get before he gets it.

INCOMING HATE.  Black people, y'all gotta realize I don't have skinse.  I only know one kind of five, that's the high five.  I never even fucked with the low five because I don't wanna risk my big old balls gettin' slapped around.

The minute a black man raises his hand up for a five, I start having a miniature panicattack.  Just kidding, I have a complete mental breakdown.  To white people, giving skin seems like a coveted ritual (a lot like drawing dicks on passed out drunks for honkies).  We don't want to be the white devil that soiled this ritual, so we lock up. 

So when that hand raises up, this is my thought process.

Jesus...  Okay, judging by the angle that means he's going in for a clap 'n' lock.  After that, it looks like improvisation...  *CLAP'N'LOCK*  Oh, oh, god...  He's doing the smooth slide away, I hope he doesn't notice my palms are soaked because I'm so nervous.  Oh, SHIT, is he gunna lock again?  Might as well...  Go...  For...  I can't believe I'm just holding his hand now...  Why aren't I letting go?...

It goes on for much longer, but I don't want you haters knowing too much about me.  Let's keep it simple, my friends.  When you're going to give a white man some skin, put your hand up and keep it there so he can tap it.  He'll feel like a winner.

Word(s). Part I.

While you haters are at home jerking each other off with gimp sissy hands, I'm here making art.  I like words, so here's some words I like.  Recognize.

The Manliest Word.

trudge/trəj/

Noun: A difficult or laborious walk: "the long trudge back".

Verb: Walk slowly and with heavy steps, typically because of exhaustion or harsh conditions.

Trudge is an extremely manly word 'cause that's precisely what men do.  We trudge through everything.  Swamps, streets, work, life, parenting, etc.  Men bear a weight a female could not understand, they pirouette through life knowing they have a man's penis on lock-down; and that's precisely why men trudge around looking for the poon.

This word is chunky, it almost forces a man to speak like Clint Eastwood and not to mention it bears the same amount of weight that men bear.  Just say it...  Trudge.


The Gayest Word. 

rasp·ber·ry/ˈrazˌberē/Noun

1. An edible soft fruit related to the blackberry, consisting of a cluster of reddish-pink drupelets.

2. The plant (Rubus idaeus) of the rose family that yields this fruit, forming tall, stiff, prickly stems (canes).


Now, just to clarify, I don't mean "gayest" as in homosexual.  I mean "gayest" as in fucking GAY.  A word like raspberry not only looks like it cross dresses all the time, it looks like it has its own personal collection of raspberry-flavored dildos ripe for the picking. 

Raspberries aren't even used for manly foods. 

Pretty peach soup?  Triple chocolate bliss cake?  None of these sound appealing to any red-blooded male.  I guarantee you can't find a gayer word than raspberry.


The Most Feminine Word.
 
temp·ta·tion/tempˈtāSHən/Noun

1. A desire to do something, esp. something wrong or unwise

2. A thing or course of action that attracts or tempts someone

When choosing a word you need to take a lot of things into consideration.  The body, the sound, the meaning and the underlying themes.  Women are usually wrong or unwise; plus, the way temptation comes out of your mouth makes you think of women.  The soft "T" sounds, the lusty "shun" at end combined with the forbidden connotations of the word make temptation perfect for women.

Men don't fuck with temptation because we're creatures of impulse; there is no temptation, there is only opportunity for men.  You say words like temptation when you're biting your lower lip and your muffins are getting buttered up.  Simply put, I can read an entire Playboy without seeing temptation once, whereas a romance novel can't go a paragraph without temptation.

Go to college.

So, school has let out for a lot of you college kids.  Here you are back home, partying, reacquainting yourselves with each other, having copious amounts of unprotected sex with people you've known since elementary school.  It's pretty awesome, I'm sure.

For me, I didn't want to go to school.  Like Morgan Freeman said in Shawshank, "Institutionalization blows."  Or something to that effect anyway.

I had my reasons for not going.  I had dreams to pursue, I had a big city to tackle and I honestly am terrible at the whole school thing.  The biggest reason, however, was the price.  I didn't see the correlation between ten thousand dollars and an education; I thought, "Hey, why don't I get a job and make a lot of money instead of spending a lot of money."

Today, I'm no richer than the poor college students looking to bus tables for beer money. 

Whether I went to school or not, I've successfully spent ten of the ten thousand dollars I've made since employment.  Hilarious.

But, Andrew...  You're pursuing your dreams in a big city, all the while living it up, right?

Oh, hell no.  I'm doing stand-up in front of depressed, alcoholic New Yorkers who are probably going to have sex somewhere later on that night.  And truth be told, that's the only reason they're laughing at me. 

"Ahaha, this is almost as nice as the date rape later on tonight..."

Go to college, folks.  Really.  'Cause regardless of your age, there is absolutely no way you can not spend a lot of money when you're starting your life off.  Perhaps it's trial and error, perhaps it's the misuse of all this new found freedom; I like to think it's God oiling up your asshole for the eternal ramming of life.