Archive for September, 2012

110 Percent

I’m pretty damn good at math.  I mean, I’m no Will Hunting or anything, but I do consider myself to be proficient with numbers.  Fractions (and, by association, percentages) are kinda my jam.  Looooove me some fractions.

Anyway, back to the point.  Sorry I got distracted there; this entry was only receiving about 75% of my attention.  See, now THAT is an appropriate use of percentages.  To simplify the concept of what a percentage is (for all you fractards out there)… let’s say that, hypothetically, I have a total of 100 “attention units” in my twisted, weird-ass brain.  Just before, I was only dedicating 75 out of the 100 “attention units” to writing this.  Hence, the entry only received 75% of my attention.

Contrary to what you’ve heard from coaches and commentators on ESPN, it’s impossible for an athlete to “give 110%,” ever.  That athlete would have to give more than he actually has, which is a physical impossibility.  I admire Percy Harvin as much as any sports fan, but no matter how well he played or what they say on ESPN, I guarantee you he didn’t actually give 110%, because that isn’t a real thing.  He may have given 110% of what the commentators thought he was capable of giving, but that’s just their mistake.  For all we know, that might’ve only been 85% of Percy’s total “football effort units.”  Percy is a complicated individual, so let’s not assume we know how many “football effort units” he has, okay?

The adorable baby kittens pictured above have absolutely nothing to with the concept of 110%.  They’re just there for your enjoyment.

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Do Other Life Threatening Illnesses Get Similar Municipal Recognition?

No reason to try to beat around the bush or sugarcoat it.  Straight up, this is People With AIDS Plaza.  Kudos to CBRE for their well placed advertisement, knowing that everyone that passes this plaza will snap a photo and show it to their friends.  What does a postal worker think when they see an envelope addressed to People With AIDS Plaza?  They probably think it’s a joke and mark the envelope “Return to Sender”, similar to how I imagine it works with this street.

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Special Thanks To Slowj for always being cognizant of his surroundings.

You Sure This Is Meant To Clean My Hands?

I am proud to say that I’ve found the jazziest handsoap in existence.  Oops, did I type jazziest…?

Think you’ve found a liquid soap that more closely resembles male reproductive fluid?  Send it to us at JustSayingHey@whatirealized.com!  Please don’t be an asshole and send us a picture of your actual semen.   

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Don’t Think Too Much; Just Smile And Let It Go

“I have absolutely no idea which part of whose body my hand is resting on at the moment,” thought Freddy, while posing for an arms-around-each-other group photo.  “Oh well… no time to dwell on it.  Good thing I look so snazzy in these scrubs.”

Our pal Freddy finds himself in a situation that most of us have become familiar with, in the camera-using world.  You and a group of friends are posing for a photo to commemorate some sort of gathering, and naturally, you form a slightly curved horizontal line with your arms around one another.  I mean, it’s not like there are too many reasonable choreography choices here.  It’s already weird enough that you’re wearing full scrubs in what appears to be a high school hallway (judging by the lockers on the left side), so this formation is basically your only viable option, in terms of demonstrating some sort of normal behavior.

But still, your hand is resting on someone’s something, and you have no motherfreaking idea what it is or who it belongs to.  You’re pretty knowledgeable when it comes to human anatomy, but even your experienced hands can’t tell if your hand currently is resting on one of your friends’ shoulder, upper back, neck, or 4th nipple.  You sure are curious, but if you turn and look to see where your hand is placed, you’ll ruin the photo, which is a major party foul.  Again, why you’d all be wearing full scrubs to a party in a high school hallway is beyond me, but hey, you’re all individuals with free will, doing as you damn well please.  It’s a free country, right?

Seriously, though, who am I fondling right now?

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Special Thanks To Elizabeth Ranson, Amanda Widing, and David Xu for not suing us for using this photo without asking first. You’re all beautiful.

Racial Profiling At Its Finest

 

I’ve set a lofty goal for myself in life.  At some point, I would like for two or more people to speak about me in Japanese, right in front of my face, assuming that I won’t understand.  And then for me to completely bitch them out in Japanese.  Surprise bitches!  I speak Japanese!

Of course, I don’t actually speak Japanese.   This is why I indicated that it’s a lofty goal of mine, because A) I would need to learn Japanese well enough to recognize when someone is talking about me, B) be able to understand what they are saying so I could bitch them out effectively, and C) Japanese speaking individuals would then need to make disparaging remarks about me in front of my very face.

I’m confident that if I were to actually go through with learning Japanese, I could make the second part of my goal happen relatively easily.  I could just go to my local sushi spot and be a complete jerk to two perfectly nice Japanese people.  So this really hinges on me learning Japanese.  So this probably isn’t gonna happen {sigh}.

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Almost…

If his voice is even half as awesome as Morgan’s, I’m there.

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Words I Realized: Crunga

crunga [kruhn-guh], n – the phenomenon wherein one’s big toe pokes completely through one’s sock

In my not-far-from-thirty years on this planet, personally, I’ve never seen a woman experience this.  Either they’ve got less aggressive toenails than men, or they just generally take much better care of themselves, i.e. purchasing new socks every once in a while.  It’s gotta be the latter, right?  Even in the unlikely event that a lady’s toe did penetrate the soft, velvety cotton of her socks, she’d probably have the common sense to change those socks immediately.  Because, come on, this dude looks ridiculous and flat-out sloppy.  Time to throw those away, buddy.  I know they’re your favorite argyle socks, which are soooooooo in right now, but have some self-respect.  Plus, your toe has got to be freezing.  Look at it, all unprotected and exposed, falling victim to whatever elements are present in the environment…

Fritz was delighted to find that his lovely and caring fiancé, Wanda, had replaced his old, nasty, haggard socks (which had become that way due to crunga, specifically).

Wait, crunga?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?

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Flat-Out Bizarre Incense Flavors

Is this particular combo called the “Lil Wayne Starter Kit?”

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Things To Consider For Your Next Dinner Party

 

What exactly is the proper etiquette to serve myself a portion of grapes from this lovely fresh fruit platter?  I have tongs, so grabbing some honeydew is simple, same with the strawberries and the few scraps of cantaloupe hiding in the back.  But, ladies and gentlemen, there’s a reason that no one’s touched these here grapes, and it’s not because people don’t like grapes (which, on a side note, is why there’s so much honeydew left – it’s clearly an inferior melon).  People love grapes.  People always want grapes.

The reason is because no one knows what the hell to do with the grapes!  There are two bunches of grapes there.  Do I take one entire bunch?  That’d make me look like selfish asshole.  Am I supposed to lift the accumulation of grapes with the tongs and then pick off the grapes individually by hand?  I really have no idea.  Maybe I’m supposed to somehow rip the vine (that is a vine, right?) somewhere in the bushel and take a mini accumulation of attached grapes.  But those things are so hard to tear, and people are gonna see me doing it and then frown upon me for handling all the grapes.  Next time, if you care about your guests, you’ll serve your grapes pre-separated.

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Umm… Okay… And Would You Like Some Court-Mandated Counseling With That Purchase?

Well, hello there, friend.  Not a bad idea for an online business, right?  Customized undies are usually a hit.  They’re unique and personal, with the potential to be both sexy AND humorous.  Try accomplishing that with a necklace.  An emerald has never made me laugh, not even once.

After admiring the pink boy-shorts pictured above, I was ready to silently congratulate the owner of this website in my head, ya know, out of respect… until my eyes veered to the left side of the screen, where that blue arrow is pointing.  (To be fair, I added the blue arrow myself for emphasis.  It’s not part of the normal webpage design.  Thankfully, good taste prevailed, arrow-wise.)

But seriously, whoever monitors this site should be flagging any orders from the pervs who go out of their way to design custom-made skivvies for a child.  “Congratulations on graduating 5th grade, Felicia!  Here’s a form-fitting undergarment with some sort of gross innuendo printed on the butt, which you probably won’t understand because you’re only 11 fucking years old.  Wear them well; I’ll be watching.”

This is completely outlandish and disturbing, right?  Or is it a totally normal, healthy part of childhood that I somehow missed out on…?

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I Hope To Never Be In This Bathroom When This Toilet Is Being Used For It’s Conventional Purpose

I realized this interior designer neglected one of the key pillars of developing a multiple occupancy bathroom.

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Words I Realized: Dovlin

Dovlin [dov-lin], n – a word that can be used in different contexts, but really only makes you think of one specific use of the word

“We have to neuter the uprising before it gets too powerful.”  I actually read that sentence. The author had me going and I was on the edge of my seat, engrossed in the story, and all of a sudden, he felt the urge to kill the momentum and implant in my mind a visual of dog’s undercarriage.  A good ole’ fashioned unsnipped dog, waiting for his impending fate. Great choice of words.  Crush would have worked too, ya know?  We have to crush the uprising.  Done.  Same message transferred, sans dog genitalia.

While Rick was present in the room, his aunt told all her friends that she got a Brazilian, and due to her unfortunate use of a dovlin, Rick thought about his aunt with a Brazilian bikini wax, instead of the Brazilian keratin treatment she actually did get to straighten the hair on her head.

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Wait, dovlin?? I don’t get it… Can you explain?

Special Thanks To Blake Furman and his choice of words.

Liquid Soap Exists For A Reason

I realized that some restaurants try to hard to be different.  Come on, a barsoap dildo that I need to jerk off in order to wash my hands?  Thanks, but no thanks.  That little sign over may say “Employees must wash hands before returning to work”, but it says nothing about customers returning to their tables and handling the salt and pepper shakers with urine soaked hands.

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Apologizing To The Table

“Oops… sorry, man,” said Keith after accidentally kicking what he assumed was his friend LaMichael’s leg under the table during lunch.

“Ummm… sorry for what?” asked LaMichael in response.

LaMichael has absolutely no idea what the hell Keith is talking about.  See, folks, Keith actually kicked the leg of the table, not the leg of LaMichael, hence the initial confusion.  So although at first, it seemed like LaMichael was the big dummy for being so baffled, Keith was actually the big dummy for apologizing to an inanimate object.  It’s okay, Keith; table legs are meant to be kicked, brah.  It happens to all of us at some point.  Sweet shoes, by the way…

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Are We Really Doing This?

“Are you gonna do it?” Corey asked Harriett as he contemplated whether or not he should join in the standing ovation.  At the moment of Corey’s inquisition, the standing-O had an audience participation rate of approximately 37%, and that percentage was climbing with each second that passed.  Corey didn’t want to stand.  It’s not that he didn’t enjoy the show – in fact, he enjoyed it very much. It’s just that he was so comfy in his seat, and in his mind, when it comes to expressing approval for a performance, there’s little difference between standing up, as opposed to simple seated applause coupled with the occasional boisterous exclamation of “Wooooot woooot!”.

I mean, come on. Would the actors be more appreciative if he stood up and clapped, but eliminated the cheers of “Wooooot woooot!”? I don’t think so. They probably wouldn’t even be able to tell Corey was standing with those lights shining in their eyes, but they can hear those “Woooot wooot!” cheers loud and clear, baby.  In conclusion, Corey, you can certainly remain seated, so long as you compensate for your lack of standing with something oral.

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