31 03 2008


Figure 1: Ugh…

The clubbing experience is, at its core, a very depressing one. When you arrive at a club you will be presented with an unfathomably vast cornucopia of bullshit that will assail your senses like crashing surf for upwards of four hours. So let’s go together, you and I, on an item by item safari through this social horn of plenty, starting with…

  • The Guest List: To get into a lot of good clubs (at least in DC) you have to be on one of these goddamn lists, and this is the stupidest fucking concept ever because in DC it’s not even hard to get on the list. To get on the stupid goddamn list you either have to a.) know a promoter (or someone who knows them), or b.) print out one of those ridiculous flyers on the club’s website. This sucks for everyone because a.) promoters are usually idiots who simply put the names of their equally idiotic friends on the list, and b.) why the fuck do I need a stupid fucking flyer? If I ever open a club, the ‘door policy’ will consist of me letting in 10 hot chicks for every 1 dude who passes a ‘Dipshit Test’ (which 90% of men will fail MISERABLY). It will also consist of my biggest and strongest bouncer bludgeoning people I deem to be…
  • Corporate Douchebags: This is the jackass that just graduated from college, has a bullshit job, makes $60,000 per year, and thinks he’s King Kong because he just pulled up to the club in a brand new 3-Series BMW.


    Figure 2: Asshole

    This asshole is usually asian, indian, or white. He has a metric ton of gel (or Soul-Glo) in his hair, wears square-toed black Bruno Maglis, and is otherwise covered in crap from Banana Republic or J. Crew. He will brag to chicks about his bullshit job and symbols of ‘wealth’ all night. He will not mention that he lives with roommates, does not own his home, and can’t do his own laundry. You’ll recognize this guy by your sudden and barely controllable urges to punch him in the spine. This is not to be confused with…
  • Athletic Douchebags: this genus of ‘bag’ is usually black, but will occasionally be white or even asian. He will show up to the club wearing a combination of $300 sneakers, clean but very baggy jeans or white ‘designer’ track pants, and some kind of track or track-derived jacket to match the pants worn atop a huge t-shirt/man-dress that contrasts sharply with the jacket (red and white is a popular combo these days).


    Figure 3: The rare white athletic douchebag

    His hair will be unnaturally wavy, usually as a result of being employed at McDonald’s – where wearing a stocking on your head during the workday is both accepted and encouraged. This asshole will also wear shades even though it’s the middle of the fucking night, and will be covered in shiny faux jewelry worth about as much as a heroin-addict’s piss.

The guest lists and douchebags are horrible, but the pain has only just begun. Once we move closer to the door, we will inevitably encounter…

  • The Douchebitch: I generally discourage calling any woman a bitch, but the person I’m about to describle is a fucking VILE, SNARLING, HOSTILE BITCH in every sense of the phrase.


    Figure 4: Applied douchebitchery

    This is the girl who thinks she’s way more attractive than she actually is, and should therefore be given star treatment like she’s Beyonce fucking Knowles. This girl is equally likely to be a member of any race – douchebitches will be black, white, asian, hispanic, etc. with alarming uniformity. She sneers with contempt at every single person in the venue, will demand a drink at your table, grits ferociously on the girls in the club that are actually pretty, and spends the entire evening railing about how “there ain’t no real ballers up in here” (or whatever the white/asian/indian/hispanic equivalent of this phrase is). This is in spite of the fact this chick is, herself, a complete waste of human life. If she’s lucky enough to be employed, she makes $9 an hour. She knows nothing about current events. She does not read for leisure. She has never exercised in her entire life, notwithstanding the half-crunch she does every morning to get out of bed. She doesn’t know how to cook. She doesn’t even enjoy people. She sucks, but not quite as much as…
  • The Bouncer: a bouncer is a large man whose life is utterly meaningless between Sunday and Thursday.


    Figure 5: Hates his life 5/7 of the time

    But for two glorious nights, this meat popsicle holds the keys to your very soul. He controls your ability to enter the club, and he can ‘bounce’ you out of the club at any time and for virtually any reason. He feels cool because he gets to wear one of those little earpieces like Secret Service agents. If he wants to impress a girl by looking important, he’ll put his finger up to his ear and assume a concerned facial expression so it looks like he’s receiving critical information from a very important person – e.g. “drunk chick vomiting in the third floor bathroom, please respond” from the busboy with questionable immigration status. Once the bouncer lets you in, you’re almost certain to find a bunch of dudes who have reserved…
  • Tables: there are two types of men that reserve tables, and therefore there are two types of tables. One is the ‘Practical Table’. This table is populated by sensible men who realize that it’s cheaper and more convenient to do bottle service than wait for drinks at the bar if your primary aim is to get drunk. You’ll recognize this table by the fact that its occupiers are huddled in a circle, drinking as fast as they can, and ignoring everyone and everything else in the club. I see nothing wrong with this table, probably because usually that’s MY fucking table. But then there’s the other table: the ‘Pompous Table’. This is the table populated by idiotic men who, since they’re sitting at a table behind a velvet rope, think they’re all P. Diddy and that girls should be knocking each other over to leap onto their cocks.


    Figure 6: Yet another sad truth…

    You’ll recognize this table by the fact that it’s occupiers are standing nowhere near the table itself, instead opting to hover near the rope with their hands in their pockets, gazing hopelessly at women who are as out of their league as they are uninterested in them, in spite of their stupid fucking table.

So now that we’ve pushed our way through the first six degrees of stupidity, we arrive at the dance floor. Here we will witness a dizzying array of social offenses. Let’s start with…

  • The Sneak Up: every girl has been through this. You’ll be dancing and minding your own business when next thing you know there is a grimey dude behind you thrusting his cock imprint betwixt your butt cheeks. He did not ask to dance with you, and he did not introduce himself.


    Figure 7: But friggin’ Goldilocks here is practically begging for it

    All you can be sure of is two things: a.) he’s probably ugly, because otherwise he wouldn’t have been afraid to approach you head on, and b.) he’s probably socially awkward for the exact same reason. A girl whose been ‘snuck’ will roll her eyes angrily and humor the offender for a minute or so, or try to subtly scuttle off to some other part of the dance floor. That is, unless she’s rescued by one of two forms of cock blocking, the first of which is…
  • Blockery by Mockery: this has been tuned to perfection by black women. This is where a girl’s friends will mock with merciless fervor a guy they deem to be unsatisfactory until he finally runs away with his balls tucked between his legs*. This is a much more confrontational but far less annoying tactic than that preferred by white/asian women, which is…
  • Body Snatching: unlike the mockery method, the Body Snatch tends to be executed for no good fucking reason. Even if the girl is actually interested in you (i.e. you’re making her laugh, and you’re both happy and smiling) – her friends will swoop in like the buzzards they are an relieve you of each other’s company, dragging the girl by the arm away from you even if it’s against her will. The ‘why’ behind women doing this has never been adequately explained to me, so I’m simply going to assume it happens because all women secretly hate each other and want their female friends to be as unhappy as they are.

Let’s not pick on the ladies, though. We gentlemen are also executors of two unacceptable methods of blockery, the first of which is…

  • Blockery by Proximity: this is where a man’s friends refuse to disperse when he’s started dancing with a girl. Instead of scattering to the four winds like they’re supposed to, they hover three feet away from you, immobile as fucking Easter Island statues intimidating the bajeezus out of the poor girl who has no choice to feel like she’s about to get Eiffel Towered in a bathroom somewhere. The girl will inevitably run off, leaving the victim male with no choice but to retaliate later with the second method of blockery…
  • Injection: ever been chatting up a girl when your fucking friend leaps uninvited into the conversation to introduce himself? That’s injection, and it should be a fucking felony. Suddenly you’ve gone from being a cool guy to being the guy with the idiot friend which, by extension, makes you an idiot for having him as a friend. Being victimized by injection creates the rare circumstance where it’s actually OK to kick another man in the nuts.

Alas, the end is drawing nigh. It’s 3:30am, and the final chip falls:

  • The Closing Lights: when all the lights suddenly come on at the end of the night, you realize just how much of a disaster your life is. Somewhere in the room, a tipsy girl realizes she’s been dancing all night with a man who could be legally classified as a dwarf. Elsewhere, a drunken guy comes to the understanding that he just made out with his cousin. People are vomiting everywhere. Mascara and makeup are running down the sweaty faces of women making them look like Sweet Tooth from Twisted Metal.

You survey all the damage around you. The spilled beer, the mixing straws all over the floor, the drunken stragglers squinting against the harshness of the lights, the unfulfilled dreams, the broken promises, the horror of it all…

You feel like Charlie Sheen at the end of ‘Platoon’.


Figure 8: Yep.

*I am aware this is where the balls are tucked all the time, but it’s a figure of speech. So gimme a fucking break.


28 03 2008

Black people hate Europe because yuppie white people claim to love it so much, yet they refuse to live there instead of fucking up our neighborhoods.


Figure 1: Just fucking move there already. I’ll help you pack!

What the hell is the deal with hipster white dudes and fucking goddamn Europe? I’ve heard them praise everything from the ‘ancientness’ of the cities, to better social programs and government, less crime, more attractive women and more charming men, and (my personal favorite) the ‘culture’.

This last one cracks me up because of the irony of it all. There’s nothing funnier than a white dude of mixed Anglo-Russian descent traveling to Prague to reconnect with his ‘roots’. This is almost as funny as black dudes in the US reconnecting with the past by visiting Ethiopia* even though their slave ancestors came from the Ivory Coast.

I suppose black folks are biased. For white people, Europe conjures up images of centuries old churches, tapas on open plazas, cobblestone streets, pristine evergreen forests, boutique wines, and quaint old villages. For me it conjures up images of this, this, this, this, this, and especially this. White people may pretend otherwise, but deep down they know Europe SUCKS, and that’s why they won’t live there. Europe sucks so fucking hard they’d rather live smack in the middle of American ghettos than in Lisbon**.


Figure 2: Me telling Portugal where we stand

Here are some of the things that suck, with teeth and dry tongue, about various European countries:

  1. Spain: pickpockets, pickpockets, and more pickpockets.
  2. France: Socialism. Ew.
  3. England: bad teeth, bad food, and the constant threat of rain. And Hugh Grant
  4. Czech Republic: they will throw you out a window, and they will not give a fuck
  5. Portugal: a country full of dudes whining about their lost empire
  6. Italy: the mob is their fault
  7. Germany: Too easy.
  8. Netherlands: for some reason, the Dutch have declared war on Islam

Europe does have one thing going for it though – they know exactly how to treat their children:


Figure 3: Child-rearing in Madrid

*Ethopia is Prague for black people
**That, and weak European economies aren’t able to absorb skill-less immigrants with useless degrees who are unable/unwilling to work with their hands

Abraham Lincoln

27 03 2008


Figure 1: Owns neither comb nor razor

Abraham Lincoln is a fucking asshole. Yes, he delivered the Emancipation Proclamation and freed the slaves. So fucking what? Doing so was politically and militarily motivated, and he’s still a racist fucktwat:

“I will say then that I am not, nor ever have been in favor of bringing about in any way the social and political equality of the white and black races [the crowd applauds] – that I am not nor ever have been in favor of making voters or jurors of negroes, nor of qualifying them to hold office, nor to intermarry with white people, and I will say in addition to this that there is a physical difference between the black and white races which I believe will forever forbid the two races living together on terms of social and political equality. And inasmuch as they cannot so live, while they do remain together there must be the position of superior and inferior and I as much as any other man am in favor of having the superior position assigned to the white race.”

-Abraham Lincoln, 1858

Several years later, after Pharaoh softened his heart, he delivered this little tidbit:

“It is also unsatisfactory to some that the elective franchise is not given to the colored man. I would myself prefer that it were now conferred on the very intelligent, and on those who serve our cause as soldiers.”

-Abraham Lincoln, 1865

Sho izz mighty KINE o’ya massa ta fix’n let dem niggaz wit da book learnin’ vote, yess’a sho nuff iz! Fuck you very much, asshole. Abraham Lincoln hates black people and he really REALLY hates Indians. If John Wilkes Booth wasn’t a racist assclown himself, I’d spill a 40 in his honor.


Figure 2: My homeboy, as long as I’m willing to delude myself…

I’ve met a lot of white people who get pissed off when blacks seem ‘ungrateful’ for the things some of them have done for us. Now, these white people know they can blame Abraham Lincoln. It’s not that we don’t appreciate the things you do, it’s that we don’t trust you. It’s the same sentiment that a girl in a bar has toward a guy that buys her a drink. She appreciates the drink, but she’s pretty sure that his sneaky ass is up to something (and he almost always is).


Figure 3: Smile! You’ve been Abe Lincolned!

To My Readers: Hall of Rage

27 03 2008

Many thanks to Angry ver. 3.2 (Beta) for suggesting I honor all angry negroes who have graced the title image of this blog with their likeness.

Enter the Hall of Rage. 

Spelling and Grammatical Errors

26 03 2008

Check this shit out: go to the comments section of this site, or the comments sections for SEBPL. Now, go to any other black discussion forum of your choice – particularly those that stir up controversy and arguments between two or more posters. The comments sections of YouTube music videos are a good place to look. Notice a common theme?

Black people will rip you the fuck apart for even the most minute technical errors in your writing.


Figure 1: “It’s THEIR, not THEY’RE, you fucking asshole!”

The obvious reason for this is that black people love correcting others, so you damn well better be ready to proofread and have a spell-checker available if you are going to posit something before the black community in written form. No matter how lucid, logical, and utterly bulletproof your argument is, it will be rendered completely useless by a dangling participle. Did you just find the cure for AIDS? Who the fuck cares – your press release used the word “it’s” where you should’ve used “its”! You, madam, are an uneducated, apostrophe-ignorant, AIDS-curing colostomy bag of a human being!

This phenomenon becomes even more pronounced when black people argue with each other (or with non-blacks). You’d think that when debating some topic, the first thing you’d do in response to getting someone else’s opinion is to examine it for logical errors, invalid assumptions, lies, disingenuous or misleading statements, and other things that actually matter.

This is not the process we black people follow.

Instead, we will read your argument carefully – but the first time we go through it, all we’re doing is looking for is mistakes in your writing. We’re looking for spelling errors, dangling prepositions, sentence fragments, improper semicolon use, and other things that are extremely relevant to your argument. We don’t care that, after observing chimps in the wild for 30 years, you’ve discovered that some have learned to cultivate their own food: you spelled banana ‘bannana’ in your research paper, and therefore, you are only slightly more intelligent than the very creatures you study.


Figure 2: The awful truth about arguing with black people

Once we’ve discovered a technical error in your writing, the debate is effectively over. You will usually be told something to the effect of “Why don’t you learn how to spell next time you decide to post here?” and, surprisingly, this will be enough to convince everyone that a.) you’re an idiot, and b.) the person that called you out is a genius.

There are only two ways to regain your intellectual credibility:

One: Point out the writing mistakes of someone else – preferably the person who called you out. Then everyone will think you’re both equally stupid, and they’ll be ready to listen to you again. This is a slash-and-burn policy, though, because at this point no one is taking you seriously. Two people who were once seen as intelligent debaters are now seen as contestants in a poop flinging contest that, while amusing, has nothing to do with the original topic anymore.


Two: Win one Nobel fucking Prize for each writing error you made, and try posting again. Unfortunately, you lose this way too. By the time you win your prize(s), the original topic will be deemed yesterday’s news, and the community will once again render you a gun-wielding Simeon for bringing up ‘old shit.’

    Life’s a bitch. Then you die.


    25 03 2008

    One of the few people you’ll meet who will actually admit to enjoying most of the movie ‘Titanic’…is me. Despite Leo DiCaprio’s boyishly girly face shitting up the screen for three fucking hours and a plot meant to give men false romantic hope*, there was plenty to enjoy about this movie:

    • Rich white people treating poor white people the same way poor white people treated all black people
    • Unnecessary high-stakes gambling
    • Leo’s Italian buddy getting crushed by a smokestack the size of a townhouse
    • The rich dude flipping out, then chasing Leo and Kate around the sinking ship trying to shoot them
    • Car sex
    • Boobies
    • Theft (if you think about it, Leo basically spends the entire movie stealing shit [women, hats, coats, food, tickets, etc.])
    • Mayhem involving lifeboats
    • Snotty British dudes being constantly punched in the face or told to “SHUT UP!”
    • Drinking contests, arm wrestling, and the constant falling down of drunken Irishmen

    Then something happened in Titanic to make me hate the whole movie, and it’s the same thing that nearly made me hate iRobot as well: some chick performed a live-saving but potentially life-ending act with her fucking eyes closed in fear**.

    Remember the scene I’m talking about? Little Boy Leo is handcuffed to a pipe below decks, and Rhode Island Red Kate Winslett shows up to free him with an axe. After a couple of awful practice swings, this chick heaves the axe at the chain between Leo’s wrists – a space of about four inches – WITH HER FUCKING EYES CLOSED!


    Figure 1: Do not give this woman an axe

    Leo closed his eyes, too. But I’m sure if he’d opened them to see her eyes closed while swinging a goddamn axe at him, the remainder of Titanic would have just consisted of him screaming in hysteric disbelief at Kate as the ship sank to the bottom of the Atlantic.

    While I was able to enjoy some of the movie after this, I definitely spent the rest of the movie with that scene sticking in my craw. I sat there fuming about both male and female physical incompetence. Titanic and iRobot unfairly categorize women as being the only ones afraid of heavy weapons, but the truth of the matter is that most city-fied men are just as scared. Let’s face facts people: men are becoming just as uncomfortable and unfamiliar with power tools, weapons, and the general manly act of knowing how to fix shit as women are with the womanly act of knowing how to cook (pasta does NOT count) and make clothing.

    Dudes that can’t do simple things (called Fundamentals of Manliness, or FOM) like change a tire, change car oil and filters, start a fire without matches, assemble/disassemble a pistol or rifle, find the North Star, build a house, cook a steak, split wood, fix a bike chain, determine the time of day from the position of the sun, install a dimmer switch, prep a fishing line, get places without detailed directions, or fire up a BBQ pit…all those dudes fucking suck and have gigantic pussy flaps. The only thing more infuriating than the fact that these guys exist is HOW MANY OF THEM EXIST. There are millions of men in cities all over America who are rendered completely useless once you take a computer away from them.

    indian.jpg queereye.jpg

    Figure 2: Standard of Manliness (l to r): Before Titanic…and after

    The pervasive unmanning of men can be blamed entirely on Titanic. Why? Because Titanic duped men into thinking that FOM ignorance is only a female problem, and it kept these men from coming to the realization: “hey, my delicate ass doesn’t know how to swing an axe, either!” Comfortable with their false sense of FOMliness, these same dudes allowed shows like Queer Eye to become popular and further contribute to the decline in FOM. It’s only going to get worse with time.

    Titanic is a secret project devised by the French to make American men even girlier than theirs, thus allowing them to successfully invade the United States. James Cameron should be tried and hanged for High Treason.


    Figure 3: Hates America

    *Titanic is similar to ‘When Harry Met Sally’ in this respect. Chuck Klosterman accurately pointed out that WHMS served the sole purpose of convincing every idiot guy with a hot female friend that, someday, he could be her man – which is an unmitigated crock of shit. Similarly, Titanic tries to convince idiot guys that chicks will trade their life with a rich douchebag for a life with a financially-poor-but-personality-rich good guy. This is also bullshit. The rich girl will happily have an affair with the poor guy, but she’ll never actually leave the rich guy. This is why rich white women hire pool boys.

    **There’s a scene in iRobot where the main female character frees Will Smith from the Vulcan Death Grip of a robot by shooting it with a machine gun…with her eyes closed in fear. The reason I don’t hate iRobot is because, unlike Titanic, someone called her out on this shit: the little squirrely guy says to will “Holy shit dude that chick just shot at you with her eyes closed.” Will then proceeds to scream at her for awhile, and she justifies her actions by saying “well it worked, didn’t it?” This means-justifying-the-ends attitude is proof that both she and Kate Winslett are fascists.

    To My Readers: FAQ

    24 03 2008

    I’ve noticed myself responding to many repeated questions in emails and blog comments, so I’ve included a FAQ page to (hopefully) lessen my need to do this. Enjoy.