How to be a musical snob

as a quasi professional music snob, i understand the shocking amount of skill and taste i have, even though i can play an instrument about as well as i can play golf, or basketball, or call of duty, or football or any “real” sport. ok, so maybe the lack of “popular kid” skills has made me the musical monster that i am today, but oh boy, can i snob the crap out of a record store.  so snobbish, in fact, let me tell you how to be a CORRECT musical snob.

1) listen to music that no one has heard of.  

This is the basis for all snob-ish-ness. If the person you are being a musical jerk to begins to question your musical taste at all, this is where you and your plethora of bands that probably recorded themselves in their garage will shine.

when you are asserting your musical dominance, feel free to liberally use the phrases,

• "they only believe in recording once every four years”
• “they draw their influences heavily from (and then just list off a german word or two... like volkswagen, maybe)”
• "they are big in the underground scene" or
• "wouldnt taint their art to go mainstream".

those last two are very important to bring up when someone questions your music prowess, because it not only tells them that you know so much more than they do, but that they are idiots/captialist pigs for not knowing this information.

2) memorize a couple musical nerd sounding words, and insert them into phrases.  

example: “i really appreciate the headbangers tonality of the truncated disharmony in the key of E minor”  

if you dazzle the poor fool you are talking to with gibberish, they wont be able to process the illogical paradoxes that are sinking your metaphorical music-ship.

3) feel free to insinuate personal deficiencies with someone who doesnt agree with you.

this is especially useful to bring into play when you start talking to someone who ACTUALLY knows something about music.  for example, a music major might respond to that last statement saying “but you cant have disharmony in the key of E... it would just sound like someone pounding on the piano... or worse: techno”

What you have to understand, is that at this point, you are on dangerous ground with any pretty girls that you were hoping to share a vanilla shake with.  Everyone around instantly realizes the poop that is coming out of your mouth... like Paul Walker, trying to act in whatever movie he tried to act in.

It’s best if you immediately attack the personal character of this clearly more-knowledgable person.  ask them if they ALWAYS feel obligated to do EVERYTHING that the MAN tells them to do.  Make subtle suggestions that this is the EXACT kind of thing that the RECORD COMPANIES say, and hint that somewhere, a poor helpless child started listening to the “Black Eyed Peas” because of what they just said... they should be ashamed of themselves.  For added effect, make sure to say “RECORD COMPANIES” with the same face that you would make when you ate a lemon that isnt ripe or some of my fiancee’s plain greek yogurt .

4) Generally, just hate every type of music that everyone else likes

oh, this one is KEY.  if you constantly find zero middle ground with anyone who talks to you, one of two things will happen,

a) you will be put on a pedestal, similar to a rock god, or a rolling stones editor.  your condescension will be like praise to those of “lesser musical stature” and the slightest bit of praise will be like spring to the long winter of the recipient’s soul... probably.

b) you may end up losing a person to talk to.  but is this really bad? did you WANT to talk to someone whose influences actually consisted of “The MONKEYS”?!?!?!?!?! it’s best to just let some people go their own way, even if they are headed towards certain disaster. they'll probably be drooling over the next Creed album or something. yes: staying away from this dysfunctional person is probably best

If possible, make THIS face when
listening to someones favorite band

Make sure to clarify that you hate EVERYTHING someone else listens to, 5% because you question their hygiene, and 2546% because your expectations are just set ridiculously/impossibly high. to bend on these MORAL/CORE beliefs of yours would be like peeing in your bubble bath... it’s something you JUST DON'T DO (but it’d be ok to insinuate that they indeed might).  This means you get to say things like “there has never been a truly ‘pure’ album recorded since Bob Dylan” (oh, and always speak of Bob Dylan like you would speak of Zeus, father of the greek gods).  

Hating everything also serves to distance yourself from everyone else, so they wouldn't be able to see that buried beneath your impressive collection of vinyl, there is a good chance that you have some Brittany Spears in there somewhere.

5) always gravitate towards an extreme

being a snob is not for the feint of heart.  you need to either go towards one extreme or the other.  there is no middle ground.  middle ground is for softies, like John Denver.  

God help you if you own something with this image on it.

you either like music, or you hate it.  someone either has impeccable music taste, or they are a musical fool.  musical bipolar-ism is cool, it’s trendy, and it’s one of the best way to let someone know how crappy their music is. And how much more yours ROCKS.   But just make sure that “nickelback” is ALWAYS on the “hate” list.

6) Sleeve tattoos.

nothing says “i was willing to put it all on the line for my musical passion” “or at least... i was more willing than YOU...” more than sleeve tattoos.  I mean: how does a person honestly compete with you when you have literally put your body on the line for your passions.  you don't HAVE to tell them that you actually got them when you were drunk, and they were inspired by “puff the magic dragon”.  all they have to know is that they are both still chained to the man, and listen to crappy music.

THERE.... just a couple steps to being a musical snob.  Next blog, I MIGHT go through how to be an ELITIST... depending if i think you are good enough.

The Watch Saga Continues...

So, i killed my watch again... and like last time... thought it might be worthwile to see if i could get a free watch by writing a letter describing my experiences. Last time, they surprised me by just fixing up my trashed watch, (well played, Reactor Watches...) and you can read that post at this link here. I would be BLOWN AWAY if they were able to revive this disaster zone of a watch THIS time. it's a mess... i dont think anything actually works anymore. literally the only original functionality it has left is that it can strap itself to your arm... so, below is the letter (pictures included) i sent to them to try to get a free watch out of the deal...

Hello, you amazing watch-maker you...

I only assume that your incredible good looks, and scholarly wit has kept you well since the last time I destroyed one of your watches.  And while we are on that subject, rest assured: I believe that all parties can now agree that LAST time, was an isolated incident, and I don't foresee a repeat of “the tragic foosball accident”.  

Nevertheless, my apparent “psychotic-watch-murdering-nature” has been firing on all cylinders, as the surprising combination of a cracked glass (hazards of a gentleman/scholar lifestyle... which i don't really lead... But can fake it pretty well by using big gentleman-ish words like “fisticuffs”, or “Primal-beasts”), and a trip to 60ft below the surface of the Sea of Cortez seemed to have an adverse “horrible-death-like” effect on the watch.  

After many deep and profound brain things happened inside my head, I uncovered the makings of a sad truth: the thing about being in 6 atmospheres of watch-crushing-pressure... is that it crushes watches quite efficiently (it is a complex phenomenon, i know).  Or mayhaps it was the underwater kung-fu duel between my arch nemesis and I. By “nemesis” i mean “roommate”.  

Tell me you cant point me out via my superior form

While I understand that for PR reasons, you will never condone “nemesis battle” be rest assured... your legendary watch played a vital role in my eventual triumph... i mean look at my form... yeah... I’ve seen an impressive amount of Kung-Fu

But the story of your watch doesnt end with my impressive Kung-Fu skillz (which need a “z” because of its sheer prowess).  A watch of a lesser stature would have wilted at the inevitable fate of portly Cortez, and his sea sitting on it’s face.  But NAY... this watch.... (let’s name him “Nigel” for story telling effect)... Nigel held his breath... for 2 months.  that’s right... the watch was literally operating under a layer of water and then steam for another 2 months after scuba diving.  Due to the fact of Nigel’s quiet nature, and he would rarely explain anything to me (quite the roguish devil), I hypothesize that Nigel got tired of waiting for me to go on an safari, and took drastic measures to make this happen.  that should teach me the values of procrastination.  

Rest in Peace

so: here lies my beloved watch... ever the adventurer... a gentleman to the end.  this all happened about a month ago... or was it a week? in all honesty, I have lost touch with time, because i refuse to taint my adventures with Rolex’s bi-polar adopted brother: “Timex”.  this leaves me sun-dials (it is getting cloudy), and trying to intuitively judge when “Beer-O-Clock” is (Oktoberfest is really throwing me off here).   You can instantly see the plethora of psychological, fashion, and grammatical problems that have begun to enter my life since my tragic loss.

Being that you were the creators of the BEST time device to ever enter my life, what is an adventurer to do if he doesnt know when to pause his single barrel musket dueling to indulge in his glass of scotch?  How am I supposed to enter hand-to-hand combat with ruffians in a timely manner? Worst of all, i’m CONSTANTLY late for dentist appointments, and i am starting to fear for my teeth’s safety because of my disgruntled dentist.

My Time-ological fate is in your hands. As well as my teeth’s fate.

Sincerely,
William McDonald the Second, Ridiculous Gentleman In Training

A man walked into a bathroom...

Firstly, I find that the best way to perform “Damage Mitigation”, or at least to save a little face, is if I am the one who points out my underlying weirdness before everyone else figures it out for themselves.  

So, here goes: for some reason, my brain has noticed that bathrooms are like the bermuda triangle... of awkwardness.  I’m pretty sure the bathroom door is like one of those portals, but instead of Narnia being on the other side, you have just entered a dimension which will have no problems slapping your scruples in its smug little face.

Today, I walked into the bathroom/awkward-twilight-zone, and did my thing.  Upon leaving the stall, and removing my gas mask, I walked over to the sink to wash my hands for the recommended 15 seconds. which is an awkwardly long time to wash your hands for... especially in a bathroom.  It is at this point, when another poor soul walked into the awkward-zone.... and made a b-line straight for the recently vacant stall.

I understand his reasoning for choosing the handicapped stall which i just walked out of... who wouldn't want the large stall, with its plush leg room (so that people can have better leg movement?.... awkward) and its fancy metal bars on the side of the wall (so people can have something to brace themselves?.... awkward).  oh, i fully understand why he THOUGHT that stall was a good decision, but he missed one critically important X factor.... me.

What a guy ACTUALLY feels like, when he walks into that stall

As he walked by me, i was literally doing one of those slo-mo movie scenes in my head.  each step he took towards that little flimsy door that was holding back an invisible death, my brain was trying to telepathically scream: “NNNNOOOOOOOO!!!!!! DON'T DO IT!!!!! IT’S A TRAP!!!!”.  But i obviously didn't say anything, because.... well, that’s a level of awkwardness i’m just not ready for.  

When he finally did open the door, i SAW the pause in his once fluid and determined pace.  he opened the stall and actually paused as the onslaught of vaporous, willpower-testing, chemical warfare engulfed him.  i can only assume his man-pride was the only thing which helped him take the next couple of steps.  

I didnt stay long enough to hear if he threw up or not... it’s possible he could have just disintegrated, but i can only imagine that the green mile must have seemed like a longer walk.  

conclusions:
1) note to self: check the hospital reports/obituaries for the ex-co worker... see if the cops think the cause of death was manslaughter and might come after me.

2) need to spend less time thinking about bathroom things.

We are doomed... but there may be a chance to make some money

recently, I have found that it’s popular for people to be depressed.  Why else would we watch Paul Walker make movie after movie?  why else would we want to make a vampire’s life depressing by giving him sparkly skin? (yes, I'm talking about YOU twilight).  Just take a look at the V neck emo people.  DEPRESSED, yet somehow still popular.

Team BLADE!!!!

so: I, (William) who is obviously amazing at doing everything like:

• tearing up the dance floor with my hip/groovy robot dance moves
• chewing bubble gum AND walking...
• being able to sleep on my tummy AND back...
• being able to make up man points after using sissy words like “tummy” by hitting my hand with a hammer and laughing manically afterwards
• shooting guns, and backing up my other manly bullet points with MORE manly bullet points
• being so happy it’s depressing
• being so depressed its... (happy?... no no, that doesn't work... ummm: “so depressed its depressing?” no no... any fool couldave come up with that one... how about: “so depressed, that I have to do a play by play about my inability to come up with a good metaphor!” BAM! nailed it!!!)
• I WAS going to put “awesome at analogies that would even make a samurai giggle... but i’m having second thoughts after that last bullet point
• ok... these bullets are getting a little off topic now
• in all honesty: can you actually say that you WOULDN'T drive the Back To the Future Delorian car?

ok: this is me hitting the abort button on those bullet points...
but i’m pretty awesome at bullet points... RIGHT?!?!?!

Anyways, i took it upon myself to grease my hair into a fo-hawk, wear a v-neck t-shirt, imagine i had sleeve tattoos that i was going to regret every day after whichever birthday i wished for a little maturity and common sense, and i was going to be the BEST DEPRESSED PERSON EVER.  More depressed than a pirate without ninjas to kill.  more depressed than a french guy working 40 hours a week.  Even more depressed than Schmilliam’s dad, after he lost a game of bowling to a blind lady.  I was even going to paint my fingernails black... but then i remembered that i was only trying to be depressed, not trying to be a girl.

I realized many things in this deep pit of endless weepy-ism.  Things like: “wow, maybe if i wear glasses with non-prescription lenses i’ll be able to see through all the vanity in the world”.  and “wow, the lead singer to Dashboard Confessional cries a lot... which is basically  my runners high in this depression marathon”.  but fear not, because there IS some logic down there, proved by the fact that even when I was depressed... Paul walker still sucked.

Then I stumbled upon this little fact that brought a little too much reality to this episode of mine.  All those young whipper-snappers are not going to know about so many awesome things that every kid SHOULD know about.  ninja turtles, thundercats, He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, and most tragically STAR WARS.  

Big sailor curse words began to flow from my mouth like wine and honey (and drool).  little depressed punks would never know how menacing stormtroopers were to galactic freedom.  they wouldn't know that when lightning shoots from your fingertips, it means you are trying to hurt a pesky Jedi (and you arent dying by electrocution).  They wouldn't know a death star from a hole in the ground.  this next generation that is going to be protecting my freedom doesnt even know what a death star is.  and the politicians are expecting me to feel “safe” (and yes: i did use the hand motions for the quote/unquote).  

I now have a new purpose.  take advantage of people's ineptitude concerning He-Man, and steal the superhero group: “MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE”... and claim that i made it up. He-man must have had an ego the size of a battleship ready to reign down fiery death in order to call HIS group "M.O.T.U." ... and i like his style.  it's MY awesome group now!!!

obviously I’m going to become quite eccentric with the wealth that i’ll amass selling memberships to my “new” awesome superhero group (doing things like making a monster truck out of my ford pinto, and FINALLY give the Trix rabbit his cereal... before this SAINT of a bunny finally snaps and goes postal on everyone who has deprived him of breakfast for all those years)... 

Join NOW!!!

oh yeah: after doing all that, i’ll make it my OTHER goal to make Star Wars popular again.

my only problem is going to be: not sounding INSANE when describing a cute/fuzzy ewok, and how they were able to kill an army of stormtroopers which controlled the galaxy with an iron fist...

can we please not listen to these people anymore?

Most overrated musicians of all time. because deep down, whether you know it or not... you are tired of listening to them... these are NOT the droids you are looking for...

the drummer from the band "The White Stripes".  
So: imagine a wind up monkey-cymbal doll... but with less rythm... and capable of producing even MORE annoying noises... and being MORE creepy looking (surprising, right? that money has all those teeth, menacing smile, and that creepy tiny little hat... and mini vest.... ughhhh!!!!).  It’s like someone is having full body spasms... but right next to a drum set.  Yeah: listen for it next time.  Both hands and both feet all slam at the same time, producing one annoying stream of percussion.

she may need to change how she "feels" the music... 

Paul Walker playing the triangle.
I’m sure he does things well... just not playing the triangle... or acting



Kurt Cobain.
Sorry all you people who live in your garage, have long greasy hair and wear too much flannel (no, i’m not talking to all you red-necks out there, or Kid Rock... well, maybe i’m talking to Kid Rock).  you’d be depressed too if you went years, upon YEARS without ANYONE giving you a throat lozenge. I mean: that’s lamer than Stephen Hawking’s body (too soon? too soon?).



The flute player in Jethro Tull.
Common man, you make me sad.



Ringo Starr from the Beatles
It’s not that he’s a terrible drummer... its just who he chose to hang out with. He is completely eclipsed by musical genius.  I wonder if he got “musically bullied around” kinda like I imagine a REAL genius would mess with all the inferiors around him.  Just imagine all the other Beatles playing musical pranks on him, like pretend choking him with guitar string, or making him a resistor for your high current amp, or one of the many other shenanigans that those totally balanced musicians are prone to make.  And don't even TRY telling me that Ringo was your favorite Beatle.  This is like trying to say that “the peanut shaped Halloween candy is best”.  Saying things like this doesnt make you “thought provoking” or “intriguing”... it makes you an idiot.

What did the Beatles see in him?!?! maybe
it was his ability to be ignored by everyone

Whitney Huston:
It’s like listening to a skeleton sing and dance, except we can trust that a skeleton will stay in the closet (where it belongs) whereas Whitney keeps escaping from her cage.  Please come back when you know what a cheeseburger tastes like.  your prominent bones are depressing me.  I’m sure her Halloween concert is a blast, because she IS a skeleton.  But, for the same reasons that USA watches nascar (to see explosions and car crashes),  America watches to see if the weight of the microphone is going to crush her every time she leans back a little too far...

the "hobo" look does sell tickets tho...

Bono:
you must be thinking “wow, NOW we have got him! he wouldn't DARE be this careless to throw ROCK legend BONO onto this list”.  But this is me proving you wrong!!!.... i WOULD be that careless.

Yes: the world loves him... but SHOULD THEY?!?!

Lady Gaga:
Just because she can scare someone into not blinking for entire concerts at a time, doesnt mean that she is a musician.  in fact, the second your ability to drive horror into the hearts of young children outweighs any musical talent you have makes you... an OVERRATED musician.  Gaga-ism entertainment that challenges your ability to watch it.  You don't watch a horror movie for the depth of plot, you watch it because you don't feel like sleeping for a couple nights, and sleep with the lights on... (totally not something i would do... i HAD to, because the light switch was totally broken...).  same thing with Lady Gaga... it’s like a horror movie with music in the background.  you don't watch it for the music, you watch it to see if she’s going to go Ozzy Osborne and eat some living thing... (yet another reason that they don't let little kids go to EITHER of their concerts...)

case in point: if anyone has ever seen horror movies... all
dolls are incredibly scary...

F my I (for my information)

let me ask you a simple question (or 4)

1.     have you ever felt the need to tell a person something, and at the same time insult/borderline emotionally accost someone?   

2.     have you ever wanted to step into a room and felt the need to demonstrate your "han solo-esque-ness" by giving off the air of being slightly cocky, with subtle earthy undertones of arrogance, combined with a lovely bouquet of charm?

3.     have you ever felt the need to describe what just happened to you after you watched a paul walker movie?

4.     have you ever felt that you have an over-abundance of that silly "job security"?

if any of these apply to you, the there is an 87.5% chance that using the phrase "F your I" (for your information) could have an explosive(ly funny) effect on your situation.  (readers note: Smilliam is not liable for any lawsuits of any kind which might come from the use of this phrase.  He only demands that you pay him a dollar each time you use it)

Personally, I fall into category 3 and 4. (as I’m sure we ALL do...)

For some reason, the filter that lets you speak like a normal/not-insane person gets turned off at work.  What seems to replace this filter, is the "let's say absolutely psychotic things that could get me fired" generator. 

This is what a proper functioning
human brain will tell you to do when
prompted to sarcastically answer
questions

Demonstrating the physics of "foot in mouth"
This his is what my ABNORMAL nerd
 brain does to me... pretty much on a
daily basis

Exhibit A): jokingly (in that kinda serious way) telling a person that you'd be happy to "show them the ropes" around work.  Oh yeah, this "person" is the same person who signs the checks of the guy who signs the checks of the guy who signs MY checks. Side-note: I was fully aware of who this person was.  Additional idiot-note: I had only been working at the company for a couple of months.  I will admit that perhaps wise king Solomon would have chosen a different action, but he also had over a thousand wives... so... ummm... I don’t feel bad about not doing EVERYTHING a suicidal guy does.

Exhibit B): I was writing an incredibly nerdy/awesome/informative email to pretty much everyone who has the power to fire me. After typing up the email, I realized that my heading of "FYI" wasn't actually correct... because it really was not only for ONE person's information, it was for EVERYONE's information.  but i really didn't think that anyone would get FEI... I mean: common... that just sounds like something that the evil Jar-Jar Binks would say.  So the next best thing to star the email with was obviously "F everyone's I" 

A normal/Smart person would simply think "tee-hee that's funny" and immediately delete this HR-nightmare phrase.  The unfortunate truth is that my unfiltered nerd brain let my mouse cursor rest over the "send" button before I paused, because my brain started working (only a little bit) enough to tell me that something seemed strange. As you may have already guessed, I wussed out and just started off the E-Mail with "Hi".  sigh... I feel like the guy who gets into the plane, sees the door open and THEN decides he doesnt want to skydive. 

F everyone's I: I still have a job... for now.  

F my I: due to quickly depleting friend supply, I may need to re-think this phrase's regularity in my conversations.

Fashion through a nerd's perspective. PART 1

Eff you, Fashion.  Am i the only one who thinks you have lost ALL your marbles? more importantly: you have somehow managed to convince everyone that you are cool.  everyone but ME. 

Obviously everyone is going to gang up on the nerd and they'll all tell him "just leave these complicated fashion things to us 'big' people",  and then they TOTALLY wont help him get past the 5-2 level in Mario EVEN THOUGH I KNOW THEY CAN DO IT WITHOUT DYING... ummm... is probably what the nerd would yell in his pj's from the couch at those fashion jerks. anyways... that totally wasn't a personal story... 

Look at all the Goddamn ways to die in this effin' level
turtles which can somehow KILL YOU!!!
plants that will EAT YOU!!!
ENDLESS GODDAMN PITS!!!
and JERKS that wont help you get through it when you
only have ONE LIFE LEFT!!!! this is how lifelong feuds start

Right... back to it.... for now.

i have discovered that what keeps me sane isn’t denial (this time), but rather the juxtoposition of really really insane fashion-isms with really really REALLY bodatious ones.  There is a great example! the only thing that keeps me from going insane, knowing that the word "fibbertigibbet" is actually a word, is the fact that the word "bodatious" exists to ad balance to the world of words.

so lets begin...

Makeup: crazy medieval people used to paint their faces before they went out to war.  Don’t try to tell me otherwise.  I’ve seen braveheart.  Mel Gibson painted his face and opened up a KEG of whoop-ass on the English.  So, what am i to expect when a girl does the same thing to go on a date?  You had better hope you open every damned door for her, before she eff’s your ish up.  The only difference is that Mel didn’t take 4 hours to put his on.  Nor did he use one of those silly/sissy mirrors.  Gibson just slapped some of that makeup on his dome-piece and was ready to kill people.  Actually, now that i think about it, girls don’t need the war paint to be ready to kill someone... they seem to always be ready to uncork some "I’m gonna kill Smilliam". (Note to nerds: just never assume ANYONE is pregnant) so remind me: what is the makeup for again?

\

The anti-makeup: cars with wheels that are WAY too big on them!!!  Yes yes yes. bodatious bodatious bodatious.  When Henry David Thoreau said "simplify simplify simplify" how could he have known that something as amazing as monster trucks were going to exist in the future?!?!?! I won’t hold it against him... MUCH.  Plus... this will help me get away/ steamroll over all the crazy people with the warpaint

Moon Boots:  The mentality here was probably "astronauts are cool and you'd be cool too, if you wore their boots". I believed that... when i was 4.  That’s when i realized things like: just because i have a cape on, doesn’t mean I’ll be able to fly off the top of my house. Why insult the moon by naming worthless boots after them? They don’t stay on very well, because they are only warm if they don’t get wet... or worn. Their only REAL use is to fall off after you feel like walking any faster than a mozy, and from recent experiences; mozying is typically frowned upon. Especially at fancy-like clubs.

The anti-moon-boot: Argyle socks!!! God, these things are so awesome! It’s not often that someone gets to say: "i have more class in my FOOT than you do in your whole body"... that is: until you start wearing those sexy sonsabitches on your feet.  With this piece of scotch sexiness on your body: you'd outclass James Bond (on days that he wasn’t wearing his argyle underwear... and THAT's how he got so many ladies... F your I).

Small pockets on the sleeve of a jacket/shirt: probably the most useless thing sown onto a jacket since the sequin.  If i ever need a special place to put a quarter... I’d think about putting it in a quarter sized pocket on my arm.  If the quarter didn’t fit, i could probably fit my self-esteem in there instead... because that's how big it would be if i was actually wearing one of those pockets. The real problem in this scenario is that a quarter hasn’t been able to buy you anything but a gumball since 1940. It isn’t even enough for you to call a tailor to tell him to rip of that stupid pocket for you.

The anti-small-pockets-on-your-sleeve: the bandana over your FACE.  Being a felon has never looked so cool.  Hell: with one of these, i could go around with wild abandon tearing everyone's small pockets off!!!

They even had to put a $100 bill to try to
convince you that these pockets are cool.
The joke is on them though: this FORTUNE
never made it out of that pocket alive

Small pockets in pants:  What can you fit in there? A lighter? I’ll tell you what you CAN’T fit in there... anything that you want to get out of that pocket in less than 5 minutes.  If you have ever TRIED to put something in there, you'd know what I’m talking about.  I once put a movie stub in there, and was forced to put on a circus show for the jerk in the theater that won’t let you get in without proof that i paid.  4 somersaults, 2 stop-drop-and-rolls, and 2 timeouts to catch my breath, later i was able to successfully hand him the 400 pieces that once made up the movie stub.  He made me buy another.  Since then: I’ve understood that that pocket is where little things go to die. 

The anti "small pockets in pants": Knives that have hidden compartments in them.  You might be thinking: "you probably believe that having something like that makes you like Rambo..." and you are right.  I would expect my muscle mass to grow about 82% to match Sylvester Stallone's. Think of how awesome I’m going to look from the 10 I just bought from the sketchy guy at the flea market

Small pockets: I just didn’t want to make any other small pockets feel left out.  They are all equally worthless. I hate them all.  You will too, once you forgot that you left your pen in them and they go through the washing machine.  

Anti-small pockets: ARGYLE ANYTHING.  Oh Yes, I mean it.  Yes, I don’t care what has argyle on it.  You could have one of those worthless/sissy SCRUNCHIES.  Slap some argyle on that sombitch, and you have got one damn sexy way to hold your hair. (This example assumes you are a girl.  If you are a guy and are doing this… I’m sorry… not even ARGYLE can save you)

Paul walker: i don’t want to talk about it.  According to IMDB "fast and the furious 6" has been announced, apparently, i need to fire my lobbyists, and just resort to bribing/blackmail.  I feel like this is starting to get personal.  

Anti-Paul Walker:....aww, man! I don’t have an anti-Paul walker!!! Eff this guy!

Music videos:  think about this statement: "i am going to go watch some music".  Are you now thinking about something a loony person would say?  The only similar statement i can think of is “i am going to go FEEL the music".  And that is what someone says when they are about to get hopped up on some Ex.  Other insane-sounding phrases include "I’m going to go listen to the print in my book", or "i want to see the feeling of someone punching me in the face" (which might be better than some of the music they made videos to).  How many ways am i supposed to soak in music? Anything other than "through the ears" starts creeping me out.

Anti-music videos: Jimi Hendrix style "smashing guitars on stage".  If this isn’t "sticking it to the musical man" i don’t know what is.  Maybe you can even do this to the idiot creating all those annoying music videos. I know for a fact that i would buy you a snickers bar for this noble deed.

atta boy Jimi... show that innocent guitar who is boss