Pocky For Men

I realized that the days of gender-neutral candy are over.

 

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Men Who Leave The Stall Door Open While Urinating

I am not shitting, I assure you.  I am only peeing.  I’ve left the door open on purpose as indisputable evidence that I am only urinating.  I’m surrounded by defecators, and I don’t want that guy at the sink thinking it’s me stinking up the place.  I’m peeing.  Homeboy next to me is shitting.

So when you go back out there, make sure to tell people that I was not shitting…  but only if they ask.  Don’t just go out there and announce it, completely unsolicited.

 

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Until Monday…

Friends,

Exciting news heading into the weekend – WIR has gone global. We have finally launched our international site, www.whatirealised.com, which will direct you right over to whatirealized.com. Also, in the unfortunate event of a typo, www.whatirealize.com also directs you to whatirealized.com. You’re welcome.

Blake and Matt

“Healthy” Salads

You want to pig out, but you need to be able to justify it to yourself.  I got you covered.  Do a salad.

“I want eggs on top of my salad.  I also need fried chicken.  Lots of it.  And bacon!  Yes!  And suffocate it all with jizzy honey mustard dressing,” said Margaret.  You know what it sounds like to me?  It sounds like Margaret couldn’t decide whether to order breakfast or lunch, so she decided to get both bacon & eggs and chicken fingers with honey mustard.  Throw the medley on a bed of flaccid lettuce, and now it’s healthy.  Because it’s a salad.

 

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Nutmeats

I realized that the edible green matter found inside a pistachio shell is called the “nutmeat”.

Words I Realized: Ciggitch

Ciggitch [sig-ich], n, plural ciggitch – the hardened mass that forms on the dispensers of various products, typically the result of exposure to air

Remember, different products put forth different strains of ciggitch.  The genres include dry and mealy (mustard), pliable and gum-like (toothpaste), and curdled and waxy (hand lotion). Oh yeah, and flakey tomato sauce ciggitch.

An accumulation of ciggitch fell onto my sandwich when I applied the mustard, but I totally ate it anyway because I’m hardcore like that.

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

What Kind Of Award Are We Actually Talking About?

I realized that someone did not think this one through.

Children At Play

All the fifth graders knew that if you were looking for a no-nonsense game of  wiffle ball, there was only one place to go.  Todd’s house on Maple Avenue – the one next to the “Children at Play” sign.  Obviously.

Only the most badass kids in elementary school got to enjoy a “Children at Play” sign and the freedom that comes with it.  Want to organize a killer game of roller hockey?  No problem.  Cars will have to take the long way home.  Government says so.  Just check the sign.

How do parents go about getting one of these signs?  Did someone blow a councilman?   And which councilman, specifically?  Not that I’m personally interested.  But in case someone asks me, I could tell them, you know, without having to ask you again.

Don’t Let Impotence Ruin Your Sex Life

I realized that you shouldn’t let impotence ruin your sex life… just smush it in there while it’s flaccid.

Coffee Shop Tough Guy

“Yeah, give me one of those, uh, caramel maccha… mocchi… mo-cah-lah-do things.”

It’s pronounced “macchiato”, sir, and I know you know this because you order that drink all the time.  You hear the barista declare that beverage regularly with proper elocution, so you can drop the tough guy act for five minutes, especially considering you just ordered the Starbucks equivalent of an apple-tini.

Look, I don’t have a problem with the caramel macchiato itself.  It’s a perfectly fine beverage.  All I’m saying is that if you’re going to order one, stand by your selection. Don’t be like that guy who goes into a bagel shop and shouts, “I’ll have a bacon, egg, and cheese”, but secretly slips the guy behind the counter a note that reads, “Ignore what I just said.  Please give me a scooped-out, whole-wheat bagel with non-fat cream cheese, but when you hand it to me, please audibly say, ‘Bacon, egg, and cheese’.  Thank you.”

Words I Realized: Tagerleaf

tagerleaf [tey-guhr-leef], n, plural tagerleaves [tey-guhr-leevz] – the remains of a  spent bar of soap

I can’t bring myself to throw you out.  You were good to me over the past week.  You cleaned me.  You made my skin soft.  You touched my genitalia.  And for that, I am very grateful.  So what if you no longer produce a reasonable amount of lather?  No biggie.  You’re safe with me.  I’d rather let you dissolve peacefully in a proper soap dish.  Rest in peace, old friend.

Honey, I’m going to have to ask you to please stop running that tagerleaf up and down my butt crack, pretending it’s a credit card.  It was funny the first 10 times, but now it’s really annoying.

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

Really Direct Neon Signs

I realized that this place does not serve African sushi.

The Appendix of the Elevator

I think it’s totally possible that door-close buttons aren’t even hooked up to the elevator.  The door has to close anyway.  Just like the button at a crosswalk… the traffic light inevitably changes, but did you impact it at all by fingering that skanky button?  Probably not, and on top of that, you almost certainly just contracted asthma.

In conclusion, door-close buttons are like The Male Nipple—small, round, and 1-inch in diameter.  The Male Nipple can be rubbed, fondled and/or pressed, but ultimately, it only serves decorative purposes.  Also, don’t touch the button at a crosswalk (on account of contracting asthma).

 

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