DREAM JOBS.

While I’ll be the first person to acknowledge that I’m still young and handsome enough to attain most or all of these career goals in my life, I still refer to them as “dream jobs” because they are the jobs I work at in my dreams to earn dream dollars which I can then cash in for bonus dream levels.

So here are five careers I would love to have.

1. STUNTMAN / AMERICAN GLADIATOR.

Top five reasons why being a stuntman would be awesome:

1. Jumping out of sky scraper windows.
2. Getting lit on fire.
3. Jumping from a galloping horse onto the roof of a moving car/train.
4. Acquiring a badass nickname like Tyler “Ty” Geurts.
5. Getting dressed up like Zac Efron to double for him in a scene that requires Tad (Zac’s character) to jump a motorcycle over a swimming pool and then maybe after we wrap that scene and I’m still in costume some teenage girls (18 year olds, totes legal) see me and actually think I’m the Mother Efr himself and lift up their shirts to show me their awesome bewbs. And George Clooney happens to be right there and sees this all go down and totally hits me with a cool four-step high five sequence that we both nail first try without even practicing. Then George invites me out to his place in the Hamptons to play paintball, and even though I get the jump on Cloon and can totally light him up with paintballs I miss on purpose and let him win since he’s been such a good host. George makes me Mickey Mouse pancakes every morning and flies in all sorts of exotic strippers every night. Some of the strippers are of a super race from the North Pole not known to us regular folk. After two weeks at Clooney’s Hamptons home I have to get back to work and finish shooting the big Efron summer blockbuster. As I’m saying goodbye to George I extend my hand for a shake and he leans in for a kiss on the lips. I casually turn my head pretending not to notice his advance and he hits me on the cheek. I don’t see George again for several years, though he continues to “poke” me on Facebook every few weeks.

Since I probably won’t be stuntin’ 9-5 err’day, I’d use my stuntman athleticism to moonlight as an American Gladiator. My name would be Raisin, short for Raisin Hell because I go through competitors with the ferocity of a raisin, which as we know is high in dietary fibre and speeds up digestion. My specialty would be a stage where competitors have to get across a 100-metre trampoline covered in soap and marbles while I shoot them with Nerf non-name brand toy guns and also bb guns. Unfortunately like pretty well every A.G. great before me, my gladiating career will be cut short when I’m found dead in a Denny’s washroom.

2. HOST OF MAN V. FOOD.

Eating disgusting amounts of insane food to show how kickass and manly I am, all the while getting paid is the American dream. And since I live in Canada, a.k.a. “upper America” that makes it my dream as well.

Not only would I make stacks of cash by hosting the show, but think of the additional money I’d save:

• Don’t have to buy my own lunch.
• Get sent on vacation for free.
• The mountains of insanely greasy bullshit I’ll be consuming every day will surely kill me at a young age, which will save me thousand of dollars in rent.

As the show’s new host my first order of bidness would be to add an “s” to accompany the “v” in Man v. Food. What the hell is that all about anyways? It should be Man vs. Food. Using “v” without the “s” is almost exclusively used in a legal context. The television program using it in this case just makes people confuse the show with the unprecedented 1996 civil suit of Mann v. Phood. Which as we all know was when plaintiff, David Mann, successfully sued Chinese buffet owner, Zhang Wei Phood, for $450,000 in damages after claiming the fortune in his cookie was was incorrect. You may remember it as the trial the media dubbed “Phood Food Feud.”

3. HIGH POWERED FILM EXECUTIVE WHO PREVENTS MOVIE REMAKES.

I don’t know if this is a real job that exists, but the title of this post was “DREAM JOBS.” So if in my dreams I can fly (only while upside down) then I can also invent a new job. Besides, this one is super important and really should be a real job if it isn’t already because we need to put a stop to this shit!

Just chill out Hollywood, we don’t need another fucking Total Recall!

I tell you what, if I was at that Total Recall remake meeting in my newly created position this is how it would have went down:

Some asshole:

“Hey, remember in 1990 how people loved Total Recall? Well we should just make it again now only way crappier and instead of starring a beloved actor and gigantic box office draw of the time like Arnold Schwarzenegger we’ll get a washed up actor that most people downright hate and who looks like he’s probably pretty racist in real life like Colin Farrell!”

Me:

“Fuuuuuck yoooouuu! That’s a terrible idea! God, I hate you. You’re fired. Shut it all down. And we’re having Thai food for lunch, that’s not up for debate!”

And that would be that. In a three minute long meeting I’d save the studio $125 million dollars, I’d save Joe Public 118 minutes of eye rolling and holding their finger up to their head while pretending it’s a gun they’re using to blow their brains out, AND I’d secure Thai food for lunch that day.

4. WRITER.

I should clarify, I have no interest in writing books or anything serious or long, I strictly want to write for a sketch comedy show or possibly a new and totally hilarious sitcom that I create and also star in like some kind of peniled Tina Fey.

My sketch comedy show could be called Sketchy. It’s a double entendre because it would be a sketch show that would star television’s first all dirty hobo cast! I’m not gonna lie, a lot of the sketches will be trainbridge and bindle themed, at least at first while the hobos cut their teeth. However, I think around season two or three once the show really hits its stride we’ll be able to branch out into sketches about lots of other things such as garbage fires and wearing wooden barrels with straps as clothes!

The as of yet unnamed sitcom would most likely be a behind the scenes look at what it takes to run an all hobo sketch comedy show. It would be air on NBC and star Fred Savage as me, the creator/head writer, and the Olsen twins as all the hobos. Think 30 Rock meets 30 Rock. It would air for four seasons to mixed reviews before being cancelled and replaced with an all dog sitcom about a dog park starring Air Bud’s youngest son and Chloë Grace Moretz as the lead dogs, called Barks and Recreation.

5. ASTRONAUT.

Or time travelling astronaut. Either one would be fine, I just wanna go to space so fucking badly. I wanna float, use waterless high-suction toilets, float while eating floating Jell-o, and most importantly wear a cool space jumpsuit with my name sewn onto it!

“Captain…”

No…

“SUPER SPACE CAPTAIN TYLER ‘ TY’ GEURTS OF ROGUE SQUADRON!”

Or of any squadron really. Though I would definitely feel better knowing Wedge has my back up there. #starwars

Seriously though, do we even fucking go to space anymore? Sure, Chris Hadfield went to space, TWO YEARS AGO. And what did he accomplish? Oh, he wrote a book? Well then I guess it was worth it because as we all know writing on Earth just does not work. That’s the reason why since it’s creation in 1954, against the urging of his accountant, Brad Anderson has to be launched into space every time he wants to write a new Marmaduke comic strip.

Former US president John F. Kennedy knew how important space travel is. JFK’s affinity for space exploration is illustrated in this excerpt from his speech at Rice University on September 12,1962.

“…We need to get to space and onto the moon pronto so we can use it as an army base for all our space fighting. Also if we find any sweet moon poon up there I call first dibs ’cause I am the original ‘ass-tronaut’ if you catch my drift… For those of you who don’t catch my drift I’m talking about fuckin’. Oh, and we should drive dune buggies around when we get on the moon and try to hit some kickass jumps! Dude, how awesome would that be?? Oh man, those stupid Russians would be all like ‘whaaat, no way?!'” – John F. Kennedy, President/Visionary.

I’m pretty sure the space shuttles that get launched these days don’t even have lasers or space missiles on them. They’re basically just giant metal tampons. We might as well just launch giant billboards into space that say “Hey aliens, come invade our planet cause we’re total pussies, lol.”

Man, we used to shoot monkeys into space! When did we lose our way…

-TG

ODD THINGS THAT ARE CONSIDERED “COOL.”

Sometimes for whatever reason things that are just normal every day things become “cool.” And sometimes things that are just downright stupid become “cool.” No one knows how or why these seemingly random things transcend their relative unimportance to become so fashionable. Maybe it’s that 33-year-old guy with a motorcycle the kids get to buy them beer who decides what’s cool. We’ll never know.

What we do know is that the following five things things for whatever reason are oddly popular.

1. AVOCADOS.

This is an odd one. How the hell can a *fruit be cool? I don’t hear people praising grapes daily, but I can easily find an avocado tattoo or avocado graffiti. I know I’m gonna take a lot of heat from the many 19 year old girls who read my blog and just LOVE avocados and “OMG would literally die without them,” but they aren’t even THAT good? They’re not bad, but they’re definitely on the lower half of delicious fruits. I’ll tell you right now they’re no cantaloupe, not even close.

Sure, I enjoy a good guacamole, but a straight up avocado? Meh, I could take it or leave it.

*We’ve either gotta make a sub-group for these “are they, aren’t they” fruits and vegetables or rethink some of our original categorization. Avocados are fruits, but you can put them on a chicken sandwich. You ain’t putting no bananas on your chicken sandwich. I mean unless you’re a monkey. Monkeys will put bananas on anything, they fucking love ’em, they go ape shit for those things. But a normal human being ain’t putting any of the more traditional fruits on their sammies. Avocados and tomatoes though? We cry if they’re not on there.

Tomato is a fruit, but it’s got no place in a fruit salad, and instantly gets cut at tryouts for the fruit platter. If a person can be born a man, but identify as a woman and be regarded as such by society for the rest of their lives then surely we are an accepting enough people to say “fuck it, cucumbers, tomatoes, and avocados are vegetables now. Burn all the old kindergarten textbooks.” And just in case you thought you knew your vegetables from your fruits, the following “vegetables” are technically fruits, smartass.

• Peppers
• Pea Pods
• Olives
• Eggplants

Not only are eggplants technically a fruit, but by definition they’re a god damned berry! Say whaaaat?!

2. BACON.

Speaking of food, why the fuck is there bacon on everything now?

Acceptable uses of bacon:

Bacon and eggs for breakfast: Yep.

Bacon wallet: Naw man.

Why is everyone suddenly making bacon print jump suits? What happened to just eating the shit and getting on with our day? Now the only way people eat bacon is if it’s weaved together into some kind of meat satchel. Pork is not a textile! It is only a meat! And I suppose also a funny way to say “have sex” when you’re 11.

We like bacon because it smells amazing and it’s the most delicious way to slowly kill yourself, not because it’s aesthetically pleasing to the eye. Nobody wants to see bacon print sweatpants? When I think of what I want to see more of in fashion, it’s not greasy cooked pig flesh. I’m not god damned Leatherface.

And while we’re on the subject of food prints, what’s up with pizza? Delicious to eat, disgusting to see as a bed spread. It looks like you’re lying under a sea of vomit. If pizza is now so cool then every 7-year-old is the coolest mother fucker out there cause they have pizza parties all the time! Come to think of it they do wear a lot of tacky neon colors and flowery all over print clothes… God damn hipster 7-year-olds.

3. CONVERTIBLES.

You know how every day you drive down the street in your dorky, boring, roof-having car and you just wish so badly that your hair was blowing all over the fucking place and everything was loud as shit? Well then buddy what you need is a convertible automobile!

I don’t think they’re even cool anymore with anyone besides 55-year-old men, but still how terrible are convertibles?

The ONLY time a convertible is ever a sensible automobile choice is if you’re filming a movie and someone has to drive a car off a cliff and base jump out of it. In that situation then yeah, a car with proper metal roof would severely hinder you. But that’s the ONE situation for which convertibles should exist.

It’s the worst just trying to listen to the radio in your car when your windows are down. Now rip the roof off that bad boy and it’s just a wind and music mash up of crazy noise whose only purpose is to drown out the inevitable heckles you’ll receive from the license-less teenage boys who are totally getting more ass than you’re getting from all the escorts you’ve had in your convertible combined.

4. DRUGS.

I’m not a drug user myself, which his probably one of the reasons why I’m not widely regarded as cool, but I don’t understand why doing drugs and living that sort of rockstar lifestyle without the talent, money, and fame seems to be considered cool by a lot of people? I mean those “lot of people” are generally degenerate burnouts and teens, but still.

Getting all fucked up so you don’t have to face reality and deal with real life problems and stresses seems so easy to do. I would think because it’s easy and therefore very achievable by the masses it would be considered uncool? I thought stuff was only cool when barely anyone was doing it. When every other med student is popping molly and doing blow on the regular it’s probably too main stream.

The only possible way I could imagine drugs and drug use ever seeming at all cool would be if you’re on them I guess. Because I’ve bartended long enough to see many a person on drugs (Why go to the bar to do drugs? I know, just get drunk, right? I mean it’s legal and therefore completely safe and probably even good for you) and from a sober person’s perspective, being on drugs ain’t cool.

Not even a bit.

Not for one second does someone on drugs look anything even close to cool. All that a person on drugs looks like is a dorky kid from the suburbs wearing neon tank tops in the winter grinding their teeth erratically.

5. SMOKING.

Unlike the other things on this list, I know why smoking is so popular. It’s because it USED to look cool. Back in the 60s when the Rat Pack were wearing tailored shirts under shark skin suits, wearing fedoras (WAY back when it was acceptable), when the world was still black and white (as in television, not race) when they would always be standing under street lights for some reason, waiting for some classy upscale dame, all the while blissfully ignorant of the disgusting and horrific long-term effects of the cigarette they were smoking.

THAT’S when it looked cool.

It’s not as cool when it’s 3am on November 52nd, and you’re shivering in your ripped up hoody and unlaced sneakers beside your mountain bike outside 7/11, waiting to get kills on some strangers “dart.” No, that’s when it’s slightly, SLIGHTLY less cool.

It seems crazy that people continue to smoke, but it is actually even more fucking mental that people are still STARTING to smoke. I guess the kids these days are super into gnarly body modifications and what’s a gnarlier body mod than a metal tube sticking out of your throat? Well I guess dying. Literally killing your body with smoke is by far the most x-treme modification. So actually I totally get why a young person would start smoking.

Wow, this post is getting even preachier and more judgy than most.

Sorry.

Wait a minute, I’m not sorry. Knock that smoking shit off, it’s stupid, and you’re stinking up my car.

-TG

BIG THINGS THAT HAPPENED IN MY LIFE LAST WEEK.

I apologize for my lack of a post last week. I know you all depend on my weekly rants to get you through the living nightmare that is your week, but I was just a bit busy. I know you’re probably thinking “Really, you’re too busy to take 20 minutes and crap out one of these blog turds?” Well I’ll have you know that I actually spend an embarrassing amount of time writing these “blog turds” as you so rudely refer to them.

Why was I so busy you ask? Oh, I don’t know, I guess I was just dropping some seriously huge life hammers! Yeah, a handful of big things went down in the life of Tyler Geurts last week.

Here are five of those things.

1. SHOT THE FRONT PAGE PHOTO OF THE NEWSPAPER.

There was a big fire in an abandoned apartment building last week and I took some pictures of it. One of those photos ended up on the front page of the April 7 issue of the Winnipeg Free Press. So needless to say my week has been full of autograph sessions and sitcom cameos (I played a young Ed O’Neill in a flashback on Modern Family). I know I’ve posted this photo on many social medias already, but here is the photo in question in case you’re wondering:

Yes, I believe this front page photo will be my springboard into a long and lucrative career in the thriving print media industry.

If any of you are planning on setting any fires in the future, don’t hesitate to let me know*. I can’t promise you the front cover of a major news publication, but if the fire is big and hot enough then there’s a good chance. It also helps the photo if you could set the fire at a good time of day light-wise, say 6-6:3ish. Speaking of horrible disasters, I’m also looking to get my photos into the Winnipeg Sun. So if any of you have a trashy looking sister who loves the beach and Countryfest, let’s set up a shoot.

*Please don’t actually set any fires, that shit is not cool.

2. GOT A BIKE.

It’s been about 20 years since I last owned a bicycle. But that bike drought has come to an end with the acquisition of my new bike.

I’ve never been particularly good at maneuvering bi-wheeled contraptions. Bicycles and motocycles have always taken a back seat to their 4-wheeled counterparts, the skateboard and automobile. However, as I get older and with that more out of shape and lazy, I felt I should do something to at least pretend I’m being healthy and getting exercise. And as my devoted readership knows, and the rest of you can just assume, going to the gym is simply not an option.

No, I’m in the market for exercise that isn’t hard, I can wear jeans while doing, and isn’t hindered by some beers. Biking it is.

I’m not sure if I’m any more in shape as of yet, though I did pull my hamstring pretty bad the first day I got the bicycle so I think that means it’s working. My weak, out of shape muscles are surely being torn up and replaced with super healthy ones!

The only downside to this whole bicycle thing is that now whenever I put on a hat it just doesn’t seem stupidly tiny and impractical enough. Also all of the pants I own are appropriate length, coming all the way down to my ankles, which just feels wrong all of a sudden. Shouldn’t they be sitting somewhere near mid-calf?

3. GOT A DOCTOR.

This is probably the most impressive thing on this list. Anyone who isn’t a teen still living at home and has moved out far enough away from their parents’ to require getting a new doctor knows what I’m talking about. Getting a new doctor is something that is borderline impossible to do. Not because doctors are in short supply or unwilling to take new patients, but because we’re fucking laaaazy.

“Well I don’t have Tetanus RIGHT NOW, so why should I spend 15 minutes Googling doctors’ offices when instead I can just sit here and eat some more of these chips?”

I moved out of my parents’ house a decade ago. In that 10-year span, I’ve been hospitalized, required many instances of surgery, stitches, casts, and lectures about “how I should take better care of myself.” I’ve gone to hospitals, physical therapists, and walk in clinics, but never bothered to get a proper doctor. One would think at some point I’d just go down to the shelter and pick out a doctor to call my very own.

Well in this time of anti-vaxxers and the Internet I finally took the plunge and got me a real life certified doctor of medicine. He’s even from another continent, so you know he’s good.

We bonded instantly over the fact that he’s located half a block from my apartment and how he has an even shittier beard than I do. I don’t want to jinx it, but after we first met he said he wants to see me again in 2-3 weeks! He even took some of my blood as a keepsake for his memory box. From the fairly invasive activities he described for our next rendezvous and the fact that he seems to buy his rubber gloves in bulk, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to go to fifth base on our next date. Don’t worry, I’ll let you guys know all the sexy deets!

*If my new doctor diagnoses me with any sort of terminal illness then I’m afraid my blog posts will most likely become infrequent. However when I do post I can assure you the small shred of restraint I show in my current posts will be completely absent and I’ll be free to really tell you guys what grinds my gears. So you’d just better fucking PRAY I don’t get Polio, Sears’ housewares department!

4. I HAD MY HALF BIRTHDAY.

April 9 was my half birthday. That’s kind of a big deal. It means I have only six months left until I am a 30 year old. Six months left of my footloose and fancy free twenties before it’s the “What am I doing with my life” and “Why aren’t you married with kids” thirties.

Yep, only six months left of being all like “Ha, that is SO typical of us 20-something year olds, right Dakota Fanning?”

After that it’ll be all like “Yeah, we are brutally old and no one cares about us. You’re right, we should commit suicide, Reese Witherspoon.”

And that’s not the only drawback. My jean jackets will go from hip to sad just like that. And I’ll basically only be able to enjoy that new bike for these next six months before fun turns to creepy.

5. JETS MAKE PLAYOFFS.

The Winnipeg Jets that is. The New York Jets suck and also it’s not even football season.

Like the majority of the things on this list, this one is yet another thing I haven’t had in my life since I was a child; playoff bound Winnipeg Jets.

Despite the fact that my A3 hockey team played during intermission of a Jets game back in 1995 (we lost) I’m actually not an insanely huge hockey fan. However, I do love an underdog, and also bandwagons. In fact since today is the first post-season Winnipeg Jets game in 19 years I am at this very moment donning my Starter snap-back Jets hat which I got signed by all the 1995 Jets players before that fateful NHL intermission A3 hockey game. All the players except for the greatest Jet of all time that is, Teemu Selanne. He’s my white whale…

Sure there’s a beauty Tie Domi signature right in the middle of the beak, but I’d trade 100 Tie Domis and 200 Alexei Zhamnovs for just one Teemu Selanne. Hell, just a Tee’ or ‘Mu would suffice. But alas, this dream will go unfulfilled.

Anyways, the Jets being in playoffs is definitely one of my biggest personal accomplishments. It took a lot of gumption and a deep-seated desire to use the word gumption to get us here, but I did it. You’re welcome.

Should fans want to replace the tradition “GO JETS GO” chant with “TYLER, YOU ARE THE BEST AND ALSO LIKE CRAZY HANDSOME” I’ll understand.

-TG

NETFLIX FLAWS.

With this being a long weekend I imagine a lot of you will at some point be laid up on the couch, looking to Netflix to get you through a hangover. So I thought it would be appropriate to drop a bit of Netflix knowledge.

If like most people you’re an avid TyFive reader then you’ll have noticed that I often talk about Netflix. That’s because Netflix is awesome. So many many shows to watch. If you’re not paying attention it’s easy to lose a year in it’s succubine grip.

However, since you are such an avid TyFive reader then you’ll also have noticed that I can talk some trash on pretty well anything, even something I hold as near and dear to my heart as Netty Flix.

Here are five problems I have with Netflix.

1. “ARE YOU STILL WATCHING?”

Don’t you hate when you’re spending you’re whole day watching season eight of The X-Files, you know the shittier season where they replaced Mulder with the T-1000 from Terminator 2. Man, as if they did that. Way to take something great and just shit on it, X-Files. You had an Oh Henry with Agent Mulder and you replaced him with a god damned Cherry Blossom.*

Mulder totally owned shit for seven seasons and they seriously couldn’t get someone more relevant than Robert Patrick, the guy who played the fucking T-1000 to replace him? That dude’s got the personality of a fax machine. Seriously, they should have replaced Mulder with a fax machine. But like a fax machine that talks like K.I.T.T. the car from Knight Rider. But unlike K.I.T.T. it wouldn’t be voiced by Mr. Feeny from Boy Meets World, the fax machine is voiced by Denzel Washington so it’s all cool and sexy and black… sounding.

Anyways, you’re watching TV all day and Netflix has the gall to ask “Are you STILL watching The X-Files?

Hmm, well is the truth still out there? Then yeah, I’m still watching the god damned X-Files!

Unless… wait a minute Netflix, did you answer a phone call for me from a possible employer with a promising job opportunity?? Oh, what’s that, you didn’t? Then play the fucking show and hold the judgement. I clearly don’t have much going on in my life, can’t I just watch Mulder and Scully chase some fucking aliens without my god damned TV passing judgement? What, are you gonna leave me for your shift manager at Montana’s too, Netflix??

*Read the following in a stupid person’s voice.

“Duh, what’s a Cherry Blossom??” – You.

That’s what you sound like.

“Ooh, a CHERRY BLOSSOM!” Yes, it’s that extremely off-putting menstruating cyclops eye of a chocolate you swiftly bypass whenever you’re in the 1988 aisle of the candy store.

*I’m sorry, I sincerely apologize for calling you dumb a moment ago. I just got worked up. I guess I just expect everyone to know what a Cherry Blossom is because I can’t stop thinking about them. Day and night, they’re all I can see when I close my eyes. I mean just look at that thing. It looks like someone ate HAL 9000, the evil red light from 2001: A Space Odyssey, and shat it out while HAL simultaneously had a miscarriage.

Ain’t no kids wanting to eat this filth. Naw man, kids want good wholesome candy. So you can go get your jollies somewhere else, Walter M. Lowney Co. Ltd. You sick sons of bitches.

2. BECAUSE YOU WATCHED.

Oh, I get it, because you seent what I watched you think you know me or sumthin’? Ya’ll don’t know me! I stay out as late as I want, I call my mom a bitch, I have sex with like a hundred guys, ya’ll don’t know me, Netflix!

“Because you watched Vampire High Detective Agency: Teenage Walking Sexual Assault Victim Cheer Squad Division…”

NF, keep that shit down, yo! I thought we was cool?! Why you gotta be running your mouth all over my TV screen about what kind of shows I’ve been perusing, esse? That shit ain’t cool. Alls I can say is you best knock it off, Holmes.

Remember, Netty Flix, whether you’s an insentient intangible computer program or not, snitches get stitches…

3. SCREEN SHOTS SHOWING THE GUEST STAR/THE BIG KISS/DEAD CHARACTER.

Imagine it’s July 20, 1969. By this point you’re nearly bored of giggling at what year it is. Luckily tonight is the night you’ve been waiting weeks for. You read in the TV Guide that there’s some big hullabaloo that’s gonna be televised from outer space that night. So you go to flick on the ol’ television and see what all the brouhaha is about. However, just before you can turn the dial some loud-mouthed asshole comes in and tells you that Neil Armstrong walks on the fucking moon, and he even shows you a picture of it, effectively ruining the entire broadcast for you.

Netflix, you are that loud-mouthed asshole.

If David Bowie makes a surprise guest appearance on Californication, how about you make the screen shot anything other than Ziggy Stardust in a post-coital embrace with Hank Moody. It’s like Netflix makes a point to seek out the best, most surprising part of every show and makes you see it before you can even press “play episode.”

That’s like me making the photo for this blog post a picture of you rolling your eyes. I would never give away the ending like that!

4. NOT LISTING ALL THE AVAILABLE PROGRAMMING.

Unless you’re smart enough to use the “search” option to actively seek out Kangaroo Jack on Netflix you might not even know you had the option to watch it. You were probably resorting to painstakingly putting in your DVD copy of Kangaroo Jack every time you wanted to watch it.

There is so much more content on Netflix that they don’t tell us about, yet in every single category I have to see the same eight programs listed. How about you let me delete insane crap like Dance Moms from showing up and you present me with some fresh options? Cause I know you’ve got the shit. I know you’ve been holding out on me.

I’m sick of Netflix’s not so hidden agenda of trying to get me to watch Bones. Yeah, that’s right, I’m onto you… And I’m not gonna watch it! I don’t care how hard you recommended it to me when I finished watching Buffy the vampire Slayer. You do you, let me do me.

5. DANCE MOMS.

This show is fucked.

They’re wasting bandwidth (That’s what the internet is made of, right? Or is it midichlorians..?) on shows like this when they could be making room for stuff like 3 Ninjas, or 3 Ninjas Kick Back.

*SIDENOTE: According to IMDB, none of the kids from 3 Ninjas had another acting job after 1996. Retired only a year after the last instalment of the trilogy, 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up… Crazy they never acted again. I know, not even Tum Tum! Also known as the actor Chad Power to you non-Knuckleheads.

Now Netflix, as far as Dance Moms goes I know you didn’t technically MAKE this “show” but most drug dealers don’t make the crack themselves either. However, you’re both still just as much to blame for peddling the garbage. This shit is tearing away at the very fabric of our society. It’s ruining lives, my life. I mean at least crack can get you high for awhile and make people sell you a bike for like two bucks. What positive can you possibly pull from Dance Moms??

Now I’m no terrorist, in fact I’d go as far as to say I’m fully against terror, but the fact that this show can exist makes me hate freedom.

-TG

THINGS THAT SUCK AT THEIR JOBS.

Here are five things that are totally brutal at performing the main task for which they exist.

1. BRANDY BEANS.

“Hey, I’m an eight year old kid and-oh are those some chocolates? Dope! Let me just toss one of those bad boys in my mouth. Ha, classic chocolate exterior. God, us kids sure do love this stuff. Now let me just bite into it and experience the delicious chocolate insides and-OH MY FUCK, WHY IS THERE POISON IN THIS CHOCOLATE?! What the hell, why would someone do this to me?!”

“Hey, I’m a 45 year old alcoholic and-oh is that booze? Dope! Let me just hammer one of these bad boys back and-what the shit?! This tiny amount of brandy is surrounded by a bunch of chocolate! Hmm, well maybe if I down the whole box I can get a good buzz on… Nope, no buzz, just a horrible stomach ache.”

I can’t think of a worse combination than brandy and chocolate. Ok, maybe brandy and mayonnaise, or brandy and a suicide bomber. But chocolate covered alcohol is still REALLY terrible. Who is this product catering to? All it does is totally burn little kids who don’t know what “brandy” is and bum out alcoholics who have to eat a pound of chocolate to get at a meagre amount of booze.

Around Christmas time I see them on shelves in stores and I see them in people’s houses, but I’ve never seen or heard of anyone actually buying them..? I think they just magically materialize on your Auntie’s dining room table.

If they want to improve these foul “treats” and make people actually want to eat them they should throw the brandy beans in the garbage and fill the box with mini Oh Henry bars and 2oz airplane bottles of whiskey.

2. IPHONES.

iPhones would be at the top of a “THINGS THAT RULE AT THEIR JOBS” list if they were called anything other than iPHONE.

Apple should have called it iCamera, iGame, or iWaytoavoideyecontactonthebus. Really they could have named this device after any of the other things that it’s great at instead of the ONE thing it’s god damned terrible at? Instead of building apps that tell you what planes are in the sky, they should make an app that makes you get enough reception to complete a single phone call.

Does anyone even use their iPhone to make phone calls anymore? Maybe like someone’s grandma, or the pope, but that’s probably about it. I just txt lol.

3. PLAYGROUNDS.

If you’re not an elementary school teacher, junior high kid getting drunk, or pedophile you probably haven’t been around a playground in awhile.

I am none of those things, but I’ve come across the odd playground here and there over the years and I am disgusted by what I’ve seen.

We’re so wrapped up in pussifying the entire world these days so no one can even accidentally stub their toe, that we up and fucked off with fun in the process.

They are SO completely devoid of any fun potential, it’s insane. Even the most creative and fun loving child couldn’t pretend to have a good time on these structures.

Gone are the days of high stakes tag on rickety two story wooden structures that look like they were built in the middle ages. Now we’d better make everything plastic and keep it under four feet off the ground.

“Well what if, god forbid, little Skye-Anne fell and skinned her knee??”

Well I guess she’d probably just get up, rub the little bit of knee blood on her pants like kids do, and continue with her monkey barring?

“Ha, no, we’d obviously have to sue the school district, get city council to pass a bill to get stricter regulation on playground equipment, and put little Skye-Anne through years of therapy to get over the traumatic experience. It would really be whole to do.”

Couldn’t we let kids be just a little responsible for themselves and their actions? You know, use those brains we’re sending them to school to fill with knowledge. Maybe we could let them squeeze in just a little bit of knowledge on how to not hurt yourself?

Nooo, no no. We need clothing made of bubble wrap, peanut-quarantine tents, and rubber pencils. Scratch that, no pencils at all, just iPads. iPads everywhere, everything iPadded all the time.

When’s the last time a kid even got concussed during recess? Probably forever ago.

I bet jungle gyms have a USB port on them these days so kids can plug in their iPads and play virtual freeze tag for $1.99.

God, the present is the worst.

4. NON-ALCOHOLIC BEER.

Sure, not every drink needs to contain alcohol and get you drunk, but that’s kinda why we’ve got EVERY OTHER DRINK.

Come on, you’re beer. Where’s your alcohol, dummy? Without it you’re just shit soda.

When choosing between a crappy tasting beer that doesn’t give you a buzz or a delicious chocolate milk, thirsty consumers will always go for the chocolate milk!

“Non-alcoholic beer is meant for recovering alcoholics, you insensitive jerk.”

Oh ok, that makes sense.

Actually, well wait a minute… If someone is trying to get over an alcohol addiction then maybe when they want a drink we should give them anything BUT the drink that tastes like the beer they’re addicted to drinking and instantly reminds them of how badly they want a real drink. I don’t know, just a thought. I mean if someone getting over a sexual addiction was looking for a good book to read I wouldn’t hand them a Penthouse.

5. HIGH SCHOOL MATH TEXTBOOKS.

Don’t get me wrong, textbooks are great. They make kids use their brains to answer the many questions within. Hundreds of different mathematical problems just waiting to deliver exciting new knowledge to teens just yearning for learning. Yep, a textbook is a fantastic educational tool.

…until about three minutes after they hand them out on the first day of school and you realize all the answers are in the back of the book!

“Hi class, I just finished grading your homework and ya’ll deserve a big ol’ pat on the back! I just can’t believe how good you guys are at homework. I can’t believe ALL of you answered every question correctly yet again. That’s 18 assignments in a row! Right on!” – Ignorantly trusting young math teacher.

Come ooon.

If I’m teaching a cooking class and I give my students an assignment to bake dessert I’m not gonna hand them a cook book with some apple fritters stuffed in between the pages.

“Alright, well it’s been a long six months of work. Lots of early mornings, lots of late nights. I can’t speak for the rest of you, but I can say that it has taken a serious toll on my life. As you know my wife recently filed for divorce. She says I care about my work more than her, and I can’t say she’s wrong. But what we’re doing here, our work, it’s just too important to let anything stand in our way! Trust me this will all be worth it come September when the children get their hands on these new grade 8 math textbooks we’re making!”

“Hey boss, umm, I was thinking maybe just this one time we wouldn’t put the answers in the back of the book? You know, cause I’m thinking that the students might be able to just copy the answers from the back pages.”

“What the hell are you talking ab-?”

“Aaah, I’m just fuckin’ with you. Teenagers are honest and hard-working, they would never do that. Now let’s get back to making sure the margins are big enough for them to draw dicks in.”

-TG

CLOTHES I’M WEARING RIGHT NOW.

Yep, the clothes I’m wearing right now. I know, I know, I really put a lot of thought into this week’s topic.

*Correction: These are the clothes I WAS wearing at 11:57pm last night when I was settling in for a late night blog writing session, and when I wrote the brunt of this post.

So here are the five items of clothing I was wearing.

1. CREW NECK SWEATER.

I bought it at Value Village about 6 or 7 years ago. It’s navy blue with grey sleeves. It’s a really good fit, not too short, boxy, or wide which can be a rare thing for crew necks if you’re not Danny Devito or a soccer mom. I feel like it’s the kind of sweater a young laid-back Jesse Cochran would have worn before he inexplicably became Jesse Katsopolis.

The back of the collar is all ripped up and looks like it was ravaged by an angry dog. This happened about 6 years ago while I was on a road trip down to California. My friends and I were in San Fransisco looking around the hills and I thought I’d try to bomb a particularly sketchy hill on my skateboard. Well the bombing part went fine, but when I got to the intersection I noticed the next section of hill which I hadn’t bothered to investigate was very gravelly. Basically before I hit some rocks and wiped out I was forced to pull the rip cord and attempt to run it out. This was pointless since going that fast it is like trying to jump out of a moving car and start running. I instantly just tripped myself up and sent my carcass sliding 20 feet across the cheese grater ground. As I was practicing my dry summer street luge a woman was coming out of her house right beside me and thank god she was there otherwise there would have been no one to tell me “you should wear a helmet.”

Oh shit, I totally forgot that helmets give me the ability to go back in time so I won’t be laying here in the middle of the street winded, bloody, defeated, and now annoyed. Thanks lady! Now continue about your day of finding airplane crash victims and telling them they should have worn a seatbelt, you amazing beacon of wisdom, insight, and bitchiness.

The whole situation earned me a gooey scrape on my side the size of a Nerf football. But why am I describing it when I just realized I have a photo. Check it out:

Yeah, that sucked. It also caused a little crack in my lower back as seen above…

Ha, little crack. If anyone wants to use this material in my eulogy go right ahead cause this is GOLD.

In addition to ripping up my skin, the fall also ripped up the collar on my sweater. Though I think the ripped collar adds even more flair to an already nice sweater.

For a few years this sweater didn’t see a ton of action, but I’ve been wearing it more again lately. Writing about it now and thinking about all the good times I’ve had wearing it is getting me all horned up to wear it again tomorrow!

2. PYJAMA PANTS.

Every year at Christmas, without fail, I get one or two pairs of pyjama pants from my mom. I know what you’re thinking, “Only one or two pairs?? Geez, there’s no way that’s enough to last the year. I go through at LEAST that many pairs of jammies every month!”

I don’t know if Mama bear forgets that she got me some the previous year, as she does buy a hell of a lot of stuff for people, or maybe she just thinks I’m really hard on my jimjams? I should probably tell her that pyjama pants generally aren’t a garment that sees a lot of wear and tear and needs constant replacement. Come on, it’s not a scarf. Sitting on the couch doesn’t exactly take it’s toll on on PJ pants.. Barring some unforeseen moth infestation or fire, one pair of pyjama pants could probably last me the rest of my adult life.

I wish she would give me sweat pants instead. Remember when you were a little kid and you could pull your sweat pants up over your shoulders and fit your whole body into them so it was just sweat pants with feet and a head sticking out. God, that was awesome. Or you’d be sitting down in gym class and pull your knees up into your shirt so you were just a boney little B.U.M. Equipment T-shirt ball.

*This blog is directed at a VERY specific age demographic. The ones who as children wore a lot of B.U.M. Equipment, Chip and Pepper(before they were high fashion baller jeans, back in their tie-dye days), and Club Monaco shirts. THAT age group. I basically cater to the people who were like “yeah, that WAS weird?!” when they read that Uncle Jesse line earlier.

The worst part of being an adult, worse than taxes, divorce, and death, is not being able to stretch one piece of clothing over your entire body. Stupid properly fitting clothing. It leaves no room to stretch!

3. SPIDERMAN UNDER ARMOUR SOCKS.

I also received these socks as a Christmas present. They are very comfortable and fancy. I’m certain they cost more money than any other piece of clothing I’m wearing right now.

I don’t really know what Under Armour is though. I think it’s like a wet suit company who also makes socks I guess.

Ok, a quick Google image search tells me they make tight spandex clothes that I suppose you wear under your workout armour. You know, when I’m working out I do find that the chainmail vest I wear under my breast plate always causes a lot of chafing, especially during step class, so I could probably use me some Under Armour.

This particular pair of Under Armour socks are Spiderman patterned. They are red and blue with a Spiderman logo on the back of each. These socks are obviously marketed towards little kids who are obsessed with superheroes and like to dress up like them, but who also lift, bro.

So pretty much exactly me.

4. BOXER BRIEFS.

Check out the Google image results for “boxer briefs.” It is very off-putting. Apparently male strippers are the only guys who wear boxer briefs. None of my underwear have zippers or see-through mesh, yet according to Google that’s what’s up.

What? I Google many of my blog topics for research, it’s not a big deal. And yeah, I turn on private browsing for ALL of my searches so just let it go…

This might be a dumb question, but am I supposed to wear underwear with pyjama pants? Or is that not cool? Should I not be wearing any? Sure, I’m relaxed and comfortable right now, but maybe I should be more comfortabler-er..? I don’t know, I don’t keep up with the latest fashion trends. Sometimes in the winter I even wear underwear underneath my long johns. How stupid and redundant is that? Although it does allow me to wear the same pair of long johns for almost the entire winter without washing them, which is an obvious plus.

Hey, do kids still wear boxer shorts? Oh man, junior high was all about boxer shorts. Especially Looney Toons ones for some reason? And they’d just bunch up anytime you did anything. Basically between the ages of 11 and 15 I wasn’t putting on underwear if they weren’t billowy and covered in cartoon characters. God, they were terrible. I guess those loose and free junior high boxer shorts were a way of rebelling against the tight binding gitch of elementary school.

Ha, gitch, what a fun word to say. Some kids would say “gotcha” but I was never down.

It was really foolish timing on our parts to wanna go loose with our underwear as they did nothing to help hide those unfortunately timed teenage boners. So to all of my teen and pre-teen boy readers firstly I apologize for those confusing Club Monaco and Uncle Jesse references earlier, but it’s pretty much how I feel whenever you kids write shit like ROFLMDMA, and secondly don’t fall for the allure of those flashy, loosey goosey Marvin the Martian boxer shorts. Go for the boxer briefs, or if you’re confident enough to keep rocking the gitch more power to you. You’ll thank me in Mr. Anderson’s third period English class when you have to get up in front of the class to write on the iChalkboard about Of Mice and Men II:, and you’re unprovoked and confusing young boner is kept uncomfortably in check.

*I’m assuming iChalkboards are a thing these kids have in their schools. Basically when I think of a classroom these days I pretty much picture every space movie. But with more rainbow parties.

Remember rainbow parties from an earlier blog post?? Thank you loyal readers, I do it all for you. And also as a way to demonstrate productivity to my P.O.

5. SLIPPERS.

Gotta wear ’em. Unless it is the middle of summer I pretty much have to wear shoes at all times or my feet get cold and go numb. I have just terrible circulation in my feet. It’s either as a result of a million years of demolishing my feet and ankles skateboarding, or it’s from the curse that gypsy woman put on my feet that one time.

Either way, my feet suck. But hey, I like wearing shoes, so I’m down with rocking my inside shoes.

I love when you go to southern states like California or Arizona and everyone just keeps their shoes on in the house. That’s like heaven. Though I guess there wouldn’t be houses in heaven, you’d just be walking on clouds. Actually I don’t even know if you’d walk at all cause everyone is an angel or whatever, right? So since you’re flying everywhere and landing on clouds you probably wouldn’t bother wearing shoes. Though in any of the angel pictures or angel-based major motion pictures I’ve seen they are usually still wearing sandals. But that’s probably just for when they come back down to Earth to win baseball games and save marriages, and they don’t want to accidentally step on a piece of glass. because as we know limbs grow back when you get into heaven, but tetanus actually sticks around and it’s a real bitch to have lockjaw and muscle spasms for all of eternity.

-TG

SOCIETY’S WORST PEOPLE.

Let me start by saying these aren’t actually society’s absolute WORST people; they’re not murderers, rapists, or parking police. These are just some of the REALLY annoying people who we normal’ish folk have to deal with on a daily basis.

These are the people you see who make you question the entire world. Interacting with these people makes you want to build a little isolated cabin in the woods, away from everyone and everything, and murder them there.

Here are five types of people who I don’t really care for.

1. SUMMER RUSHERS.

Look out your window right now. You see that guy beside that giant mound of snow. The one in the toque and the knit sweater who is also wearing neon green and pink board shorts. Yeah, that’s the one I’m talking about.

I know it’s now slightly nicer out than it has been for the past four months, but just cool your jets, buddy. Yeah, we’re all excited that it’s not -30 outside, but it’s also not +30. Let’s not dive into that shorts, flip flops, and crazy stupid wrist accessories drawer just yet.

*I say “guy” when I talk about these mid-March shorts wearers, because it’s always a guy. That’s because we guys, are stupider. Though only slightly more so than the girls who line up outside of some brutal club for an hour in the middle of winter freezing their almost entirely exposed asses in skirts that are only slightly longer than a belt. Those girls are also quite stupid.

So these guys know that it’s cold enough outside to wear a toque and sweater, but it’s also SO nice out that they simply can’t restrict their legs to sweat-inducing full-length pants.

Oddly enough in the first week of september I don’t see these guys wearing winter boots and a parka. I thought you were ahead of the seasons, bro?

2. PEOPLE WHO MAKE A HUGE SCENE WHEN THEY CAN’T PAY WITH A LARGE BILL.

“What do you mean you won’t take my $300 bill?! What the hell kind of way is this for someone to run a business?? Oh, don’t feed me that ‘store policy’ bullshit. Who the fuck do you think you are?? I want to talk to a manager, no screw it, I want to speak to the owner! Oh you ARE the owner, eh? I see how it is then, you son of a bitch… You’ll burn in Hell for this! MARK MY WORDS, THE STREETS WILL RUN RED WITH YOUR BLOOD!! AAAARGH!!!”

Oh, and you can bet the Better Business Bureau is gonna hear about this one, buddy boy! And you can kiss my ass goodbye cause this is definitely the last time I come to your horseshit lemonade stand, I can promise you that much, Timmy! Tell auntie Janice I won’t be coming by for dinner.”

I’ve pretty much seen that happen word for word. Pretty much.

I never understand why people lose it when they have to use a smaller bill or, god forbid, pay with a debit or credit card. And it’s never anywhere that should expect $100 bills like a jewelry store or anything, it’s always at the shittiest fast food restaurants.

“This is my hard earned money, I don’t know why you won’t take it?! That’s it, I’m going above your head. Let me speak to his highness, the Burger King!

If you can pay for your entire order with the change in your pocket then do it, and save your million dollar bills for the mansion store, Jay-Z.

3. PEOPLE WHO DON’T UNDERSTAND THAT THEY LIVE IN AN APARTMENT.

Hey now, I love stomping my feet on the ground at all hours while screaming at my insanely loud TV and blaring my stereo to drown out my dog barking as much as the next guy. Unfortunately for me I don’t get to enjoy those activities because I have a super annoying case of “being considerate of the other people around me.”

People, if you live in an apartment suite remember that there are people above, below, and on every side of you. This means that if it isn’t too much trouble, can you please SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Rearranging your furniture one time on a Saturday afternoon, right on, gotta come correct with your Feng Shui. However, if you absolutely insist on hosting your semiweekly shot put/pogo stick parties then you should probably work harder so you can afford a house out in the country. That way the only people you’ll annoy are the kidnap victims in your basement prison, you selfish dink.

No, I don’t think it’s too far a leap to assume that because someone makes some noise above my apartment at EIGHT-THIRTY at night, they would be the kind of psychopath who would imprison a person in their basement. Everyone knows it goes: littering -> noise complaint -> unlawful imprisonment.

4. BUS PHONERS.

It’s 7:45am, I get onto a packed bus with standing room only. Everyone is still extremely tired and they’re all getting mentally prepared for the long demanding day of work or school ahead. Everyone is in their own zone and no one looks like they care to be bothered.

I’m no sociologist, but judging by what I’m seeing here I’m pretty sure what they all want is for some 17-year-old girl to get on the bus while on her phone talking obnoxiously loud and crassly about extremely personal matters for the entire length of their bus ride.

“Oh maaan, not again. Tony, I’ve told you before, if you’re gonna go to the bone zone with a chick in your little brothers’ treehouse you’ve gotta make sure she actually IS a chick! Dude, that’s why I stopped buying my meth from Shaky Shawn. He always puts too much antifreeze in it and it fucks me up too much. Yo, if I don’t answer for a few seconds don’t think I hung up, it’s just that I might puke in my mouth and have to swallow it. I dunno, I think I might be preggers. Or I’m still just really drunk? I really can’t tell which it is cause I’ve just been on a two-week booze and unprotected orgy bender. Yeah, I’m on the bus. Umm, why would I want to talk about this stuff in the privacy of my own home? Sorry, I’m having trouble hearing you right now cause SOMEBODY and their asshole baby beside me won’t SHUT UP and be respectful of the people around them. God, AND she scuffed my new sneakers with her wheelchair. Some people…”

5. AIRPLANE APPLAUDERS.

We’ve all had to endure hearing these people and I hope none of you reading this have ever BEEN these people.

You’re in the technological marvel that is an airplane. It has just carried you across an entire continent in the time it took you to drink three complimentary Jack and Cokes and watch Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigalow. The landing of a 100-ton piece of metal while going 200km an hour causes a few slight, but basically uneventful bumps upon contact with the ground and it nearly wakes the elderly man sleeping with his head on your shoulder. At this point in unison every asshole on the plane knows to start applauding the pilot in a passive aggressive “fuck you.”

Maybe this doesn’t seem like a big deal to some of you, but let’s think about this. I’m sure that most if not all of these jerks who clap after a bumpy landing have at some point in their lives: put their shirt on inside out, walked into a screen door, or dropped their phone in the toilet.

These poo-phone idiots seriously have the gall to give a guy shit for landing a god damned PLANE?! Are you kidding me?? It’s behaviour like this that keeps these second class fools sitting back here in coach instead of in first class where they know how to ackrite.

The next time I get a successful heart transplant and the heart surgeon momentarily misses one of the 200 stitches when he’s sewing up my chest, I’m gonna start clapping and roll my eyes at him like a real dick.

*That’s right, I DON’T get put under or use anesthetics for my heart transplants. What am I a bitch?

-TG

INVENTIONS.

Here are five products that I have invented.

*When I say I “invented”, I mean I came up with the idea for while drunk or in a dream and then took no further steps to actually produce.

Some or all of these amazing products have since or even before I independently came up with the idea, been invented by more motivated, financially-backed, and smarter people than I.

BUT I THOUGHT OF THEM FIRST!

Or second. Or maybe even third?

The point is that I’m telling you that I already know that some of these products exist so you don’t have to waste your time commenting “THEY ALREADY HAVE THAT!!” and posting links to photos of these products that are way less cool-looking than my non-existent ones.

So yeah, here are the ways I blew it by not becoming a billionaire five times over.

1. SEATBELT-BELT

The year was 1997, a pre-Lewinsky scandal Clinton was in the White House, and the world only had one option for fastening it’s collective belts; the belt buckle.

Yawn.

“My old man uses belt buckles, man. Pffssh, it’s totally like… when will the big belt buckle corporations make a belt fastening system that speaks to ME and my alternative generation, y’know?!” – Timmy Smithersonson…stein – Totally real teenage boy, age 15.

One of my earliest inventions at about age 12, the seatbelt belt, was a belt for your pants that uses a car seat buckle to fasten shut instead of the more traditional, and let’s face it booooriiiing and not X-treme, “belt buckle.”

“How did you come up with such a game changing and radical idea??” – All 4 million of my readers

WELL, I’ll tell you… But I warn you, it’s as sexy as it is dangerous, so if those things aren’t for you, EVAN… Then you might as well catch the next wave and surf the worldwide web to a more safe website, cause it’s about to get hawt up in hurr…

I was smack dab in the midst of engaging in an extramarital affair with a woman 15 years my senior, when the sound of a door slamming shut rang through the second story master bedroom like the sound of a bomb going off. Like any good soldier I hit the deck. However, I doubt many soldiers have been bombed while fully naked and in mid-coitus.

Her husband was home! He wasn’t supposed to return from his business trip to Mississauga for the bi-annual muffler convention for another 3 days!

I would later learn that a muffling-related accident had caused the entire convention to be shut down early and this accident would be a catalyst for cancelling future conventions.

I scrambled for my clothes. The shirt, a “vintage” Super Mario Bros tee purchased at the local mall went on quickly and without incident. Socks luckily were a non-issue as I hadn’t worn any since I was wearing Birkenstocks to accent my puka shell necklace. I will remind you it was 1997 at the time and I was teetering on the cutting edge of fashion.

I found my underwear hanging from the corner of the dresser, Looney Toons boxer shorts, and put them on in record time. The only thing left, my corduroy pants which were draped across the beanbag chair. Left leg, right leg. You’re almost there, Geurts.

I could hear footsteps coming up the hardwood stairs.

It didn’t matter, I could taste freedom. All that was left was simply doing up my belt and I’d be out the window to safety.

Cecilia (name changed to protect this lady as she is a bit of a public figure these days…) was panicking as she motioned silently yet frantically for me to hurry up! Tension and stresses were at an all time high as I fumbled with the complicated belt buckling system. Thrice I missed the belt hole and could not get my belt securely fastened!

This overly complicated belt buckling procedure cost me valuable seconds causing me to come face to face with a snarling husband who had burst through the bedroom door.

Cecilia had told me her husband was big, but my god, he was seven feet tall if he was an inch! I swear his rage had caused his legs to swell up making him even taller.

Luckily for me jumping through a screen window cover doesn’t hurt as much as jumping through a glass window. However, I can tell you from first hand experience that falling from a second story window onto a sparsely grown in bush hurts as much as falling from a second story into a sparsely grown in bush. Which just to clarify is an ankle twisting, elbow bruising, face scratching amount of pain!

If engaging in relations with his wife hadn’t enraged him enough I imagine ruining his window screen and crushing his bush(for the second time that night… High five! Anyone? No? Yeah, I recognize that Cecilia is not HIS bush, and to be honest it was a well-kempt landing strip. I don’t advocate men being possessive of women, but I do advocate double entendres and play on words) only contributed to this man screaming at me while I limped away dragging my sprained ankle down the block and off into the cool October night.

Well it was about four blocks later as I painfully limp-jogged onto Westonbrookhaven Avenue, all the while still unsuccessfully trying to fasten up my pants, when I thought to myself…

“THERE’S GOT TO BE A BETTER WAY?!”

Maybe it was because I was staring at all the cars lining the midnight street, wishing I could just hop in one and drive home to save myself further ankle damage, but at that moment it hit me like a bolt of sexy genius lightening…

SEATBELT-BELT, MOTHER FUCKERRRRR*!

*It was accurate to call myself “mother fucker” since Cecilia was actually a mother to three kids… The youngest, a 3-year-old named Jeffey, named after the character from the hilarious Family Circus comic strip, woke up one night during a particularly audible love making session between his mother and I and came in the bedroom, and called me “Dad”…

And that’s how the idea for the Seatbelt-Belt was born!

Well it was PRETTY much that except instead of all that stuff I just told you, it was me finding an old box of seatbelts in my dad’s shop that gave me the idea. But could you imagine?? What a crazy story that would be…

2. HEADPHEAKERS.

This one was invented by me, but named quite poorly by my girlfriend. Though in her defense I think she intentionally started referring to this product as “Headpheakers” because she thinks it’s a bad idea and chose an awkward name to reflect that.

After independently inventing this product (“inventing” meaning I said “Hey Kat, honey, I just had an idea for… Ugh, just pause it. Can you pause it? Oh my god, it’s Netflix it will still be there in two minutes! I’m not yelling, I just want to tell you-AAAH! Fuuuck! Just never mind then if it’s such a big deal! Make sure you let me know how TOTALLY hilarious Chandler’s burn on Ross is. No, YOU stop being a dick! I am NOT always like this! You just make me-Don’t interupt me! HA, you’re leaving ME FOR ANOTHER GUY?! Well I hope he doesn’t come up with a sweet-ass invention and try to tell you about it while you’re in the middle of watching a super important episode of Friends…”) I found only one small company currently producing a similar product. Though reviews don’t seem favorable and should I ever actually produce my product I think I could easily crush them.

Oh shit, I forgot to tell you what this mofo is!

Well I probably shouldn’t even tell you since I haven’t gotten a patent for it yet and any of you could steal my idea and make a bunch of money… But hey, we’re all friends right? K, no stealsies, called it!

“Headpheakers” are a pair of over the ear headphones that also can be used as portable speakers!

I KNOW, RIGHT?!

They would be totally boss (Do people still say boss? Did I ever say boss? Why did I just say that…) headphones worn by all your favorite DJs and such. Oh man, all the best dudes will be wearing them. Like ALL my faves will rock ’em. There’s just too many to name. So many dope DJs whose names I totally know, but I don’t want to list now cause I can’t pick ALL my faves, y’know? Yeah, I’m pretty cool and in the know. I don’t mean to brag, but I was into Smashmouth BEFORE they were cool and then so long after they weren’t anymore.

When you, a sweet DJ, are done tearing the roof off a sick foam party with your mad beats (NOT by Dre. I have to say this for legal purposes) and you head home and just wanna mellow out to a few slow jams in your crib, you simply flick the switch on Headpheakers from “input” over to “output” and swivel the earpieces to face outward and BOOM, they’re speakers now! Two products in one!

These are basically the Head & Shoulders of audio. Though I should probably point out that the irritation from the headphones’ strap rubbing on your scalp will definitely cause MORE dandruff, not less.

3. RUSH BRUSH

This one may already have been invented, I haven’t had time to look into it. Fuck you, YOU “Google it” I haven’t had time. No, I don’t write these blog posts on an Internet-connected computer that I could easily use to perform a Google search. I compose them on my Palm Pilot which doesn’t have a hook-up for the net.

ANYWAYS, can I finish? Thank you. God, it’s like you just think this blog is all about you, well it’s not. So maybe let me get a word in here every once in awhile.

One morning I was getting ready to brush my teeth when I suddenly passed out from exhaustion after having to pick up my toothbrush with one hand then with my other hand pick up a totally separate tube of toothpaste. The strain was too much, I collapsed. After regaining consciousness and wiping my head blood off the toilet’s water tank I’d had enough. I was sick of waking up every morning in a pool of my own blood.

I thought of all the elderly ladies and enfeebled rich old drug abused rock stars who were struggling daily with the application of paste to brush and I wept. I continued to weep.

After 48 hours of straight weeping I thought to myself…

“I’M SO FUCKING HUNGRY AND JESUS CHRIST DO MY EYES HURT! WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?? AM I SUFFERING FROM DEPRESSION? I’VE GOTTA GET IT TOGETHER. MAYBE I’LL TAKE A COOKING CLASS AND START JOGGING…”

But that thought was instantly bumped by an even bolder and more capitalized thought…

“THERE’S GOT TO BE A BETTER WAY!?”

Enter: Rush Brush.

A toothbrush head that screws directly onto a tube of toothpaste. The brush head has a small hole through it that let’s the user squeeze the tube and slowly release a steady stream of toothpaste throughout their brushing session.

Never again would one apply a single glob of toothpaste onto a brush only to see it fall off and lost into a watery grave like a cokehead with Tourette’s accidentally dumping his stash into the Denny’s toilet.

The more I think about how awesome this idea is, the more I feel like it was probably already an infomercial in 1994. However, as long as I never actually do any research to see if it already exists I can feel smart and clever and enjoy this undeserved and actually straight up backwards sense of accomplishment for something I never even for a moment thought of actually doing.

Note: In my memoirs my grandchildren will read about how I actually DID invent Rush Brush: The Morning Time Saver, and how everyone thought it was the best and smartest invention by the hottest guy who could easily lift 200 pounds straight over his head and nail 3-point shots 90% of the time. However, the Canadian government decided that this amazing and cool invention would be better used by our Canadian Secret Service Agents, and how despite losing out on guaranteed billions of dollars profit, I chose my country over fame and fortune. My memoirs will also include how one time I got to second base with T.A.T.

Oh, you do too know who that is. Tiffany Amber Thiessen, aka; Kelly and Valerie. She pretty much had a monopoly on early 90’s teenage boy spank banks.

Yeah, THAT T.A.T…

God, I need an older readership.

4. IPODS.

UGH, this one still gets me pretty worked up…

It was ONE DAY after I bought an iPod that I had the idea for the EXACT SAME THING! Just two days earlier I would have been a bajillionaire.

Fuckin’ Steve Jobs… Yeah, I guess when you’re in a wheelchair all day and you can only talk through a computer it gives you way more time to invent iPods! Some of us aren’t that lucky, Steve…

More like Steve HANDjobs am I right??

Oh I’m not? In fact I’m wrong on all accounts you say? You wanna put 5 bucks on it?? DEAL!

…Googling…

Shit! K, I’ll pay you next week when I win my Terry Shiavo bet. Now I KNOW she was the chick from Adventures in Babysitting.

5. BEER.

Ok, this one isn’t so much that I thought I INVENTED beer, but rather that I thought I figured out a recipe for making home made beer from common household items.

Oh whatever, I use my themes as a fairly loose guideline to help shape these blog posts and I think this is close enough. Fuck it, I can just start talking about the the best referendums in Peruvian history right now mid-blog if I so please. IT’S MY BLOG, NOT YOURS! WHEN WILL YOU GET THAT?! Jesus… Shit like this is the reason why I never told you about my sleepover party.

TYLER MAKES BEER – SCENE 1 – ACT 1:

I was probably about eight years old at the time and we were at my grandparents’ house. Everyone was outside enjoying a lovely outdoor summer dinner. I was in the kitchen playing a rousing game of “mixing a bunch of shit into a cup for no reason like a stupid wasteful kid who’s never had to pay for a god damned thing in his whole life” when I accidentally discovered how to make beer. The recipe goes as follows:

• 3/4 cup Pepsi cola
• 1/4 cup 7-Up
• 1 teaspoon of lemon juice
• 1 disregard for wasting other people’s food and making a mess that you obviously won’t clean up

That’s it, that’s all it takes. Take a sip and you will taste beer. Of course as an eight-year-old you have a refined beer palate from attending countless amounts of your parents’ softball games where you repeatedly ask Dad if you can try his Lab Lite only to be grossed out time and time again. But for that split second you were a man, one of the guys.

Oh I should probably have prefaced that recipe by saying this only works if your grandpa for some reason keeps a 2-litre Pepsi bottle full of beer on the counter which you only find out after you proudly inform everyone at the party that you figured out how to make beer. Then they call you an idiot and take you behind the woodshed and beat you with an old wooden broom handle.

Alright, that last part didn’t happen, but their mocking laughs made me feel VERBALLY beaten with a wooden broom handle which in the end we can all agree is much worse, isn’t it*?

*Of course I mean all of us who have never been on the receiving end of broom handle child abuse can agree.

So I guess TECHNICALLY I didn’t discover a recipe for beer as much as I discovered a recipe for exposing my grandfather’s possible closet alcoholism.

-TG

MORE TERRIBLE THINGS PEOPLE POST ON FACEBOOK.

Going back to the well already, eh?

Yes, I am.

Here are five more terrible things that people insist on posting all over Facebook.

1. EVENT INVITES.

I’m sorry, but I reeeeeally just don’t wanna.

No, I’m not busy with prior engagements, nor do I have any other excuse for not going. I just don’t want to.

Listen man, I’m just as pumped as you are that your 3-week-old band is going to be playing a show at Dave’s Goodtime Carwash in Moosejaw, but in all honesty I probably won’t be attending. So please just don’t involve me in the whole thing. Keep me out of the loop.

But sometimes I click “attending” on these events anyways, just to be nice and cause I’m stupid. Gotta show my support, you know. Now I’m getting 16 notifications a day.

“Oh crap, Jim’s aunt Carol isn’t gonna be able to make it to his kid’s 2 and a half year birthday party cause she’s still living in Cranbrook with Uncle Mike and the kids. Sure she sends her love, but it’s still a real bummer and definitely fucks up my day hearing this. At least she let us all know though and we’ll have time to adjust to this news before not going to the event and not knowing or giving a shit that Aunt Carol wasn’t there.”

And every day these eventers are making all sorts of updates I don’t give a shit to get notified about. “Oh what, the start time of that Wolesley art and pet walkathon I have no intention of going to got changed from 3:00 to 3:15?? Fuuuuuck! Well at least I got an email and Facebook notification telling me they updated the event page so I can now update my schedule to the new time I won’t be showing up at.”

Save the Internet trees, ban the Facebook invite!

*Tip: If Steve is “maybe attending” your event I wouldn’t save him any jalapeño poppers cause he’s not coming. Nobody in the history of “maybe attending” has ever actually shown up to anything ever. If it was an event that actually sounded like fun they would be “going” but then again if an event was actually good it wouldn’t require hounding people to come via Facebook, they would just go of their own accord.

I’ve never seen Facebook invites needed to get people to attend a wet t-shirt contest and they seem to do just fine. Let’s all take a cue from the ever wise and prospering wet t-shirt industry and let our events sell themselves.

2. QUIZZES.

“Which colour M&M are you??” or any bullshit 6 question quiz that can somehow anthropomorphize inanimate or inhuman objects.

When I answer that my favourite colour is yellow and favourite food is lasagna then yeah, it’s PRETTY obvious that I’ll live to be 71 and Brittney has a crush on me. I don’t need a quiz to know that.

*Yeah, I said anthropomorphize, no biggy. And it probably won’t even be the biggest word I use today. I’ll most likely drop a “cantankerousnesses” at some point.

3. SHARING A STATUS BECAUSE YOU CAN WIN SOMETHING.

“P-Diddy and Bill Gates are giving away $1,000,000,000,000,000,000,004 and a free Playstation 5 to anyone who shares this post!

No they aren’t. Why would you ever think that? Are you stupid? That’s a sextillion and four dollars. There’s no way they even have anywhere near that insane amount of money. And if they did why would they give it to you for spamming your friends with Facebook bullshit?

Also I don’t think those two hang out that much. But for some reason you think the awesome idea of giving your annoying Facebook using ass a butt ton of money is bringing them together? Naw man.

To get heads of that caliber to come together and give away that kind of cash it would take like a trillion hurricanes pushing a sextillion kids down old wells where they all land on and cripple a bunch of abandoned blind puppies. Even then they’d MAYBE give away a few million bucks, but we’d probably be subjected to some horrible U2 ear raping song pulling a B&E on our iPods “for the children.”

Though your ability to blindly click “share” on any piece of Internet garbage is truly admirable, I ask that the next time you’re going to share that nugget of Internet insight you take a moment to think of how it will effect me, Tyler. I really don’t think any of us want me to have to write any more angry Facebook blog posts.

4. LIFE HACKS.

“Instead of wasting time with silly old REAL metal locks on your doors you can simply take an empty mayonnaise jar, a ziplock bag full of pencil shavings, half of a red onion, some dental floss, an empty matchbook, and about 300 plastic spoons and…”

Stop telling me more complicated ways to do the things I’m already doing just fine! I own a god damn plunger, I don’t need to spend an afternoon cutting a 2-litre bottle in half and hot glue gunning balloons around it.

Maybe I’m misinterpreting the term so I feel the need to double check, but a “life hack” means a person who is a hack at life, correct? Just extremely lame people, right?

I think if you’re using a coat hanger for a bunch of unnecessary shit around the house other than hanging up clothes and occasionally breaking into your 1989 Oldsmobile Cutless Sierra that you accidentally locked the keys inside again, then you my friend are a life hack.

5. MEMES.

Ha, words on a picture, good one! How ever did you come up with that??

You know what would be a lot easier than spending several hours like maybe twenty minutes tops writing one of these blog posts? Rehashing the same bullshit picture of Willy Wonka or a serious looking baby over and over. That would be much easier and probably get my blog a billion more views and likes, but I prefer something a bit more original that doesn’t necessarily just pander to the masses.

Pfft, who needs “likes” and laughs when my humour can provide confusion and seconds of near laughter!

Let’s get back to creating our own original content, shall we?

Pinky swear? K, deal! Blood brothers for LIFE! This is gonna be the best summer ever!!!

And it was.

We didn’t know it at the time, but that summer would be a defining point in our young lives. The days were so long and care free. Skipping rocks and catching frogs down at old Mr. Gillespie’s big pond. Pooling our change together to buy a malt down at the soda shop. The time we rode our bikes all the way out to Willows Bluff because Tommy wanted to jump off the big rock to impress Jenny. He never did, but it was still a great time and sticks in my mind as one of the funnest days of my life.

Tommy’s family moved away to Sioux Falls the following summer and we lost touch. Some years later Arny and Jenny ended up getting together and getting married. They’ve got a couple of kids now and they own the hardware store in town. Whenever I go in there for supplies Arny always tries to give me a deal and I always respectfully decline and pay full price. It’s nice just to see his face. Jacob joined the military where he died tragically in a plane crash. After his funeral all of us guys from the old gang took his ashes down to Mr. Gillespie’s pond and spread them out on the water. The pond seemed so much smaller now, more like an oversized puddle. None of us said anything, but I could tell we were all thinking back to that one great summer we shared. We smiled at each other, said our goodbyes, and went our separate ways.

-TG