LANSING – 9 year old Phillip sits in his basement playing Call of Duty on PlayStation 4 with his friends. On a Wednesday night at 9:00pm, this R.C Buckley Elementary School student would normally be getting ready for bed to wake up early for another day of school the next morning. Not under these circumstances though. With the Covid-19 virus running rampant throughout the country, the Michigan school district which RCB belongs to, among many others, recently announced its complete closure for the time being. Many people wonder what affect it will have on the children going forward, and how they should account for lost time in the classroom. Phillip, however, hasn’t broken a single bead of sweat.
“This has been the best time of my life,” the Presidential Fitness Award student said. “I just play games all day. Like when it’s summer.” When asked about how he feels about missing school work, he responded, “I forgot to do my homework that my teacher, Ms. Grace, gave us. We had to read a book, and then we had to write about our favorite part about it, and then we had to draw a picture about it, and then we had to talk about it in class, and then-” Clearly a strenuous amount of studies. But once he heard the news that he wouldn’t have to go to school for at least the next month, or until just the absolute worst person you know finally gets the attention of the WHO with another Facebook post about how “the curve has been flattened” and “it’s time to open America again!”, he had a huge sigh of relief. “I hate reading. I hope I never ever have to do work again. Now my teacher can’t write my name on the blackboard because I didn’t do my homework.”
90 miles away, Detroit Tigers pitcher Matthew Boyd and outfielder Christin Stewart sit in the team clubhouse. After only a couple weeks in Florida for Spring Training, Major League Baseball decided to suspend the season indefinitely due to the spread of the coronavirus. Boyd and Stewart, two of the Tigers’ emerging young stars, made the trip back to Detroit for one last look at their home field before returning to their actual homes for good. While looking out at the empty seats and perfectly manicured grass, Boyd sighed. “Boy am I glad we don’t have to step out there this year.”
“You said it,” said Stewart. “I fucking hate playing baseball. [Tigers manager] Mr. Garndehire makes us do these drills in practice. And then after we have the practice, we have to play against these other guys, and they’re on the Yankees. And they have this one guy who throws really hard. And it’s really hard to do good against them. And I can’t do it. I don’t want to do it.”
“Yeah,” Boyd added. “And then when we don’t do good, the people yell at us. And then Mr. Gardenhire yells at us. Now we don’t have to play baseball ever! Now they can’t yell at us!”
So while many of you may be at home worrying, when will you get to go out? When will you get back to work? How will you survive this? Just think of those who perhaps caught a lucky break with all of this – like Phillip, who forgot to read his section of The Hungry Hungry Caterpillar. Or the 47-114 Tigers, who can finally go one Spring without being curb-stomped by any halfway decent team and being laughed at off the field by the entire sports world. There are winners and losers in every scenario. And this time, for once, the Tigers can finally tally one up in the win column.
There is an epidemic that someone needs to speak out on
It appears that someone is me.
There are people on the road we drive side by side with. Sometimes they drive side on side, as in they hit you with their car. I would know as I was t-boned last Saturday. The offender caught the brunt of it though. She tried to come across the middle and my behemoth of a vehicle laid the smack-down on her like Dick Butkus. She just got JACKED UP!!
Unfortunately for me and you, I did not die. However, if there is one silver lining, it’s that I can tell girls that I survived a car crash. If me not going D1 because of my injury doesn’t raise the sympathy levels through the roof, almost getting murdered on the way to pick up my $65 paycheck from work certainly will.
Actually, thinking back on it, it’s a good thing I didn’t die in that wreck. If I did, my body would’ve been found with “What a Girl Wants” by Christina Aguilera blasting in my car on repeat. That would have been a real tough look. I’ll be more careful to play cooler music when I drive in case my 20 year old SUV doubles as my coffin in the future. Maybe some Avenged Sevenfold will do the trick.
I forgave the fellow who hit me. It was an accident and accidents happen. Insurance will take care of it and we’ll each be on our way. However, there is a greater threat we face each and every time we hit the gravel. And no, I’m not talking about teenage girls who just passed their driving tests.
Uh oh people… little sister got certified by a professional to drive an automobileKeep an eye out for Mya everyone! She passed her driver’s test with flying colorsEverybody else needs to stop driving IMMEDIATELY. Matter of fact, sell your cars. Invest that money in moon shoes.I can actually attest for this one, Nicole fucking stinks at drivingBae: Come over Me: Can’t. Caeley and Dylan just got their licenses… gotta stay off the road Thank you for that public service announcement. I’ll be working from home from now on.Another sister who is bad enough of a driver to shut down the entire roadways. Coincidence, or sexism? Hmm…Such a blessed day. The expressway is all yours and nobody else’s, you selfish prick.
No… these people are a much greater threat to society. People who willing drive around, with… God it even hurts to just type it out.
Customized. License plates.
Nothing says “feed me attention” like a little quip on the back of your hunter green 1997 Subaru Impreza. I would rather walk than drive a car that clearly outs me as a person who thinks he’s the funny one in the group who actually gets mocked relentlessly behind his back when he gets up to go pee. Personally, I’ve avoided that dilemma by simply never going to the bathroom. Adult diapers are quite comfortable after the break in period. I also chose to own a vehicle that has a regular license plate number like a normal citizen. Some people, for some unbeknownst reason, choose the alternative. Now this is the price they pay – getting mocked. By me. Future depressed corporate man (“meatloaf AGAIN Sharon? Fourth time this month”), former top draft prospect (stupid injury), part-time blogger (check it out here: https://weekendrecaps.home.blog/),and full time dipshit.
And not only do you look like a fool… good luck getting away with committing any sort of crime. You can go right ahead and say goodbye to any potential get-away driving job opportunities:
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
Some asshole just hit my car and drove off
“Okay do you know the make and model of the vehicle?”
Not exactly, but the license plate was RU18YET
“Okay we’ll check our databases and find them within the hour”
IDIOTS. Fucking IDIOTS. Leave the xxUSERNAMExx’s to the kids and their AIM accounts (add me, sscharger36).
I will admit, once in a blue moon you’ll come across a funny one. But 99 times out of 100, you’ll want to ram the back of their vehicle and hope it blows up like a Ford Fiesta. So, without further ado, here is just a small percentage of the scum we share the road with.
#1: 3 YANKEE
This dicknose is obviously a Yankee fan, which already puts a bad taste in anybody’s mouth. What is throwing me off here is the “3.” If I know one thing about Yankee fans, it’s that they love boasting about championships they won before fire was invented, so I’m left to believe this fan was so amped about their third World Series victory against Abner Doubleday’s squad of chimney sweepers and hunter-gatherers, they decided to put it on their car for the entire world to shake their heads at.
The Culprit:
#2: DAMDANYL
Remember that God awful meme a few years back? If you don’t, all it took to go viral for Mr. Dan was to wear a white pair of Vans and to have someone film them. “Damn Daniel” reached the pinnacle of life itself – The Ellen Show. The story behind this license plate digs much deeper than the meme though. The owner of this vehicle (Daniel his name is, I assume) thinks this is his own personal catch-phrase. “Yo guys, how about every time I walk into the room, you’re all like ‘DAMNN DANIEL!!’. That would be so dope.”
And they do it out of pity, so he can feel involved. Enjoy it Daniel. Make the happiness last as long as it can. I can’t imagine you derive it from anywhere else.
P.S. If you are Daniel and are reading this just know that this is a joke. Please don’t beat me up with your fists just because I can beat you up with my words
#3: OKC THDR
New York license plate, Oklahoma City Thunder fan. It isn’t even possible, but I guarantee this kid goes around telling people “my dad was a Thunder fan when he was a kid and that’s why I’m a fan.” God works in great, mysterious ways though. Damian Lillard’s buzzer beater was the greatest shot I’ve ever seen. Step back right in front of the half court line. Back in my playing days I had a shot to hit a buzzer beater 3. I missed. We then went on to lose in double-OT. I still think about that from time to time.
The culprit(s):
#4: UR UGLY2
Fuck you, asshole. Don’t take your misfortune out on others.
The culprit:
#5: QWEANBEE
This one really hurts me deep. Story time: My pals and I were at the bar one night and this absolute bombshell came strolling in. Blonde hair, amber sundress. Eyes that would cut through you like a stick of butter. Drop dead gorgeous. We called her Queen Bee. By some divine miracle, I found myself in a conversation with her. She wanted me to put my Snap in her phone, but I thought I’d be smooth and put in my number instead. I turned my back for a quick second (which is also the same amount of time as a long second when you think about it) and she disappeared into the crowd. I can only assume she died the next day because I never got a text. Sad to think about it all and the life we could’ve shared together. So this blog is in memory of that smokeshow, Queen Bee. May she rest in peace.
I don’t have much to say to the driver here because my heart is so broken that anything that comes out of my mouth would likely do more harm to my feelings than theirs. Just like my mother taught me, if you have nothing to say that would hurt their feelings more than yours, don’t say anything at all. But I will say this one thing to this owner: You are not Queen Bee. You will never be Queen Bee. I knew Queen Bee like the back of my hand, and she would NEVER drive around with that on her bumper. I would bet this person’s only comparison to a queen bee is she is the largest one in her hive.
Before I start… this is something that Brendan mentioned in his heartbreaking tale about a hot chick telling him she’s blind, but I’m going to repeat it to really make sure the point gets across. We do things because they’re funny to us. Those things we do may also be funny to some of our friends. But much more often that not, they are funny to quite literally nobody else. 0% funny, 100% completely fucking moronic. Our brains are simply wired differently than the general public’s. It’s been said that you must to learn to love yourself before you can love others, and in return have others love you. Well, we’ve got the first part down pat, but have made little to negative progress with the latter. Do we care? Absolutely. At least I do. Nothing matters to me more than the opinions of others. But will I show it? Not a chance. I’ll put on my mask and go about my day and pretend the well-deserved snide remarks/dirty looks/silence from girls I’m interested in didn’t get to me. But they did, do, and always will. I’m sensitive like that. I watch This Is Us for fuck’s sake. I like to shed a tear every now and then. Regardless, we will continue doing what we’ve been doing since the dawn of our days and make no adjustments whatsoever.
On to blog number two for Tommy.
For me to live my life the only whey (side-note: sometimes we spell ‘way’ as ‘whey’ to let females know we lift. There will surely be more words we substitute in for others, but this is the only one I’m going to explain for you. So if you don’t know what we’re saying, just sound the word out and use some common sense) I know how, immaturely and obtusely, I very often will delve into the online shopping world and treat myself usually to whatever product I think would be amusing to own. My Amazon purchase page is more bizarre than the browser history of a budding teenage boy who has lost interest in simply youtubing “girls kissing” and is looking to diversify his fun-time library.
Together, we will take a trip down memory lane and recall some of my most memorable purchases. Each purchase will be rated on a 20-80 scale, much like the scale scouts use in baseball to grade prospects. 20 being a shit purchase, 80 being worth every penny. Factors taken into consideration include price, how often I use the item, and how it funny/unfunny it was. And speaking of baseball, I was quite the prospect back in high school. Would’ve went D1 but then I got hurt and that put an end to my major league dreams. What a bummer. At least when I tell that to girls, I:
1. Receive an enormous amount of sympathy from them – “Oh you poor thing!! How about I make it all better 😉”
2. Can brag about what a tremendous athlete I was without having to back it up with any sort physical activity. “Sorry babe, I’d love to buckle the knees of that annoying punk with a 92 mph slider, but the doc says no more pitching or I could lose the arm for good. Can’t risk it”
How did I get hurt? Not important. Let’s get to what you came here for.
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PURCHASE #1: Women’s Tap Shoes, $19.50
I should first say that when I bought these, I was not aware they were women’s shoes. As a matter of fact, I didn’t realize until about halfway through the night when I thought “holy fuck these things are tight.”
Why I Bought Them: Short story. The pals and I were watching Family Feud one night. Steve Harvey is going down the line, introducing the members of the family. One guy claims he’s a professional tap dancer, goes center stage, and starts doing his jig. One of my friends is particularly impressed… I am not. Not one bit. “This guy is so full of shit. I could do that in my sleep,” I say. My friend fires back, “Oh yeah? Prove it?” 10 minutes later the shoes were bought, paid for, and shipped.
When/How Often I Wore Them: It took a while to break them out. The made their debut July 3rd, 2018 at our favorite bar. This place is actually a half-bar, half-club, so I thought tearing up the dance floor in some tap shoes would surely get some hunnies by my side. I lace ‘em up and I’m out the door. Big night ahead of me. Only problem? The place was a ghost town. At one point I was the only one on the dance floor. I was particularly looking forward to sneaking on the DJ stage and putting on a show before getting kicked off, but it was so dead that he didn’t even give a shit when I made my way up there. Regardless of the low view count, I still got some laughs and even a shout-out over the speakers. Very cool!
Grade: 50/80. Fun idea, fair price, good execution. But a small audience and no repeat tap-dancing nights force me to knock its rating down a tad.
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PURCHASE #2: LED Light-Up Sneakers, $55
Why I Bought Them: I was at work and saw a very young child with a light up pair of Sketchers. Instant nostalgia. I proudly owned a pair back in kindergarten and they were a hit. I would lead the way into the movie theater, “lighting up the night” for my family on our way to see Ice Age. When I was picked in duck, duck, goose (which was a lot because I was the coolest god damn kid back then), the lights would become a blur because I was so fast, plus they would be a distraction to whoever was chasing me, giving me an advantage I frankly did not need, because of the speed.
By the way, is there a title for the person doing the chasing in that game? I know the ducks are the losers who never got picked, and the gooses were either the popular kids (me) or the fat kids because they were easy to catch… but the chaser? Let’s put a name to the face right now:
Wolf, Eagle, Bear, Raccoon, Fox. Take your pick.
When/How Often I Wore Them: Once. I got to wear them one fucking time at a run-of-the-mill hangout because these pieces of shit broke within a week. I hate to use such a hostile tone, but it’s only because I loved them so much. These things didn’t just light up when you took a step, they had a permanent flashing setting. Actually, setting(s). More than one. They would blink blue, red, green. Flash all colors at once. Act as a strobe light that would trigger an epileptic seizure in a millisecond (remember the movie Miss March made by the WKUK guys? How about the scene where the chick seizes mid blowie and bites Trevor’s yogurt slinger? Ouch). I made sure to make the most of my time with these bad boys though. It’s a darn shame they didn’t last as they would’ve saved me at least 20-25% on my electric bill. Light up the night.
Grade: 35/80. So much potential these shoes had, but what a bust they turned out to be. Jeff Francouer-esque career. Got off to a scorching hot start only to turn into a bigger disappointment than every one of my last attempts at dating (“You’re really nice and funny, but…”). As they say, the brightest stars burn out the fastest.
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PURCHASE #3: Olympic Team Handball Net, $179.99
Why I Bought It: … Why the fuck did I buy this? I mean, Brendan and I were two-time European Handball Tournament champions in high school (Brendan was just a coach for the second one, but every team member gets a ring so I’ll count it). Did I think that I could continue that success and play for Team USA or something? Well I obviously couldn’t have because of that stupid sports injury that prevented me from becoming the transcendent athlete I was destined blossom into. I really don’t have an explanation for this one.
When/How Often I Used It: Once again, this was just a one time use for Tommy. Luckily however, it provided somewhat of a lasting impact. A few neat pics of me were snapped while I was shooting on it, which I promptly used as one of my Tinder photos.
Look at those legs
That is… until I was banned from the app.
Apparently, “I’ve been watching a lot of Dexter recently and I’m just looking for people to kill” is not the best pick-up line. But I say leave that for the big-city slams to decide, not the dumb fucks from corporate trying to silence my profile. #NotMyDatingApp
Grade: 20/80. Gonna be hard to get worse than this one. But hard doesn’t mean impossible. We can do it. Together.
Hey guys. I’m Tom. This is Brendan. We’re officially bloggers now, as you can see from our blog. Nobody can take that title away from us, hard as they may try. And I have a feeling they’re really gonna try hard as we were met with our first #hater within 3 hours of announcing our new online presence.
Hi Chris. Oh, you do cross-fit? How about you cross-fuck off (Letterkenny, “Ain’t No Reason To Get Excited”) and do a chin up or something
Anyways, this is our inaugural post, so let me formally introduce the two of us. We’re just a couple of kooks in our 20’s who think we’re funny. We like Instagram likes, we like tank tops, and we’re smashing your chick. Only thing is my last Instagram post only got 56 likes (yikes), I only own one tank top (Bucci OT challenge tank that I bought, didn’t win [fraud]), and your chick is comfortably snuggled up next to you on this rainy Sunday afternoon while you nurse your very minor hangover because you’re responsible – you know your limits when it comes to drinking and didn’t overdo it the other night.
And this is where we come in. We don’t know our limits. We really don’t have one actually. We spent most of last night hitting each other with a metal chair because it doesn’t actually hurt.
In addition to a blogger I am now also a Youtuber it seems
That’s what we plan to do with this blog. Recapping our weekends and be funny on the days that aren’t on the weekend – Monday, Thursday, Friday, Tuesday, and the fifth one. We hope you like it. If you don’t, it won’t come as a surprise at all since our piers (or is it peers? Idk the word I’m trying to say is the people we hang out with, not the wooden dock that extends out from the shoreline into the water) don’t like us as people.
Works Cited Page
Keeso, Jared, et al. “Letterkenny/Ain’t No Reason To Get Excited.” Season 1, episode 1.
Weekend Recaps And Being Funny The Other Days 