The First 13 Ways I Found Out I Wasn’t Normal

(via hangingoutpost.blogspot.com)

1. I enjoy eating alone. With my headphones on. With the song “November Rain” by Guns N’ Roses playing. On repeat. On full volume.

2. When a friend tries to start a conversation with me, my first thought is “This is not how life is supposed to go down. I am supposed to start talking to you. MAKE YOUR FACE STOP SAYING WORDS!” Then I run out of the dining hall because I need to google “how to talk to friends” in order to figure out what I did wrong.

3. When I take a shower, I like to cut off large chunks of my hair because it just doesn’t feel right on my head. Then when people ask if I got a haircut,

The Most Disgusting Forms Of Animal Reproduction In Existence

Oh deer.

So, stud, you say you’ve done every sex act in Urbandictionary. But have you done every sex act on the Discovery Channel?

For you, dear reader, I have destroyed my Google search history. You’re welcome.

Wasp spider: Extreme Cockblocking

We’re all familiar with the knowledge that female spiders tend to ingest their lovers after coitus. However, the male wasp spider takes the cake for Most Masochistic Sex Act On This Earth: after sex, he “plugs” the female’s vagina by snapping his own penis off, ostensibly to prevent other potential mates from getting any.

The 4 Greatest Sports (That Don’t Exist but Totally Should)

Searching for Tabby Fischer.

1. Kitten Chess
Kittens are basically the natural world’s equivalent of iPads. Everyone wants one except some people who don’t, but no one really cares what those people think anyway. If my pillow became an animal, it would be a kitten and I’d be totally fine with it sleeping on me instead of the other way around. Anyway, imagine how awesome it would be if you could play chess using kittens as your pieces. Knight takes pawn? NO! Tabby takes tortoiseshell! It would be so freaking cute I don’t have words. Also, when a piece got taken you could just pet it and love it and hug it and OOOH ITS SO CUTE! WHO WANTS A FISH!? YOU DO! YES YOU DO!

2. Pogo Stick Basketball
Quick, what’s a sport that involves lots of coordination and a childhood toy that really isn’t that great? If you answered soccer and hula hoops then you’d be right, but I hate you, so I’m picking basketball and pogo sticks. To understand why this would be so amazing, go to Youtube and check out the geniuses who think they can manage “mad stuntz” on pogo sticks, and then imagine your least favorite professional NBA players eating it on the court like there’s no tomorrow. Kobe got you down? Faceplant. LeBron too cocky? Bounce face first into the rim. The comic possibilities are literally endless.

How come curling's still an Olympic sport, but this isn't!?

3. Underwater Ping-Pong (with electric eels)
Ping-Pong is a pretty cool sport, but it can get repetitive after a while. So, how to liven things up? Well if Frankenstein has taught us anything, it’s that everything is better with electricity. So, how about we put those bad-body ping-pong players underwater in scuba suits, but add the awesome element of electric eels swimming around with them. Not only does it add additional strategy (hit an eel while its near your opponent and watch the fun!), but it also turns a sport that’s heavily skill based into something that has the ever-so-beautiful element of chance. Come on, it’ll be electrifying. Don’t pretend you didn’t see that joke coming.

4. Frisbear
No, that wasn’t supposed to be Ultimate Frisbee (the king of all sports). I’m talking Frisbear. In this game-for-the-whole-family-even-the-kids-who-can’t-talk-yet, you put on a giant robot suit and toss grizzly bears in a rousing game of Frisbee. Sure there’s danger involved, but you’re in a robot suit! What could go wrong? And BEARS! Bears make everything both deadlier and more awesome (especially Bear Pong!). Just think about the commercial possibilities on this one. Sure, it’ll piss off animal rights advocates, but it has robots, so who cares? THIS IS AMERICA.

Eight Statements You Should Never Make

Want to know how to make yourself look slightly ignorant? Here are several ideas you may insert into one of many orifices you find difficult to clean in the shower.

“I really hate the taste of aspartame.”
No, you hate the thought of aspartame. Your body is wired to like sweet things, but your mind knows that you are consuming Franken-sugar. In the immortal words of Very Mary-Kate: “You know how you can’t eat meat anymore once you know where meat comes from?” That’s you, Ms. “I Won’t Eat It If It’s Not Organic, Leafy, And Hasn’t Touched An Animal With A 39½ Foot Pole.” Congrats on your mental victory; I’m slightly jealous and mostly derisive.

Special mention to anyone who says they hate chocolate without a valid excuse. You’re either lying or there’s something wrong with you.

Dawg, Mozart's "Requiem" is my jam

“If you play Mozart to babies they’ll be smarter.”
If you had done your goddamn research, you’d realize that this is actually an extreme extrapolation by the media off of a 1993 cognition study where researchers measured the effects of sound on spatio-temporal reasoning. They played music (which HAPPENED to be Mozart) to Group 1 for ten minutes, a “relaxation tape” to Group 2 for ten minutes, and complete silence to Group 3 for ten minutes, then immediately gave them some mind puzzles. The ones who’d been listening to music did better.

The finding had nothing to do with Mozart; scientists have reproduced this study with other music. The finding was because Groups 1 and 2 weren’t bored as hell listening to rainforest noises or their own borborygmi for a period of time in which they could’ve Sporcled every 90’s song ever written at least three times. It was a temporary effect on a specific type of reasoning and it wasn’t caused by Mozart. But listening to music before you start your next 2,000,000-piece puzzle may help you for ten minutes afterwards.* Now put down the Baby Mozart tapes, they’re not going to give your kid a Flowers-For-Algernon IQ boost. C’mon, we all know that most of us Bienen kids can’t count past four. But you should still check out Schubert.

“I’m so fat.”
Unlike the rest of this list, this one could be true. But regardless of the statement’s verity, rarely does the speaker believe it. No further explanation, y’all know what I mean. I have a secret fantasy of giving a silent staredown to every kumquat of every size that ever regales me with this phrase. I will watch their faces as they realize I refuse to bite on their compliment-fishing line. Unfortunately, having a guilt complex blows.

“Girls don’t fart.”
Welcome to 2012, where vaginas don’t preclude one from anal salutations. Ellie K can flatulate with the best of you bean-gobbling fools.

“I’m fuckin’ awesome.”
If I didn’t notice, you shouldn’t have to tell me.

She's not wearing anything under that... thing

“Fashion is about sex.”- Vivienne Westwood.
Thank you, Sigmund Freud.

First off, raise your hand if you possess a penis and give a flying fuck about fashion. It’s normal to ask yourself in the morning if you look like you might smell. But fashion extremists feel a level of consternation at the question of whether it’s still “in” to leave open the bottom button of your blazer. Now, if your hand is in the air, you’re either in the minority or in the process of dancing.

And now ladies (and gay men), when have you ever gotten dressed in the morning with the burning desire that an attractive manly man will seize you in a frenzied passion after noticing that you’ve matched your hat to your belt buckle? Yeah, me neither. Most men don’t give a damn if you’re wearing Lilly Pulitzer or pajama bottoms or a pillowcase with sequins if you’re their type and DTF. If fashion and sex are related, they are third cousins twice removed. Case closed.

“The Sodomites in the Bible were punished because they were gay.”
Not exactly. Summary of the story:

According to the Bible, Sodom and Gomorrah were two cities known for being full of motherfuckers. Not the kind you find in New York — we’re talking rape in the name of shits n’ giggles. In Sodom, it was illegal to help strangers, which pretty much goes against everything that real, love-thy-neighbor Christians believe. So God sent some angels to walk around town, and a man named Lot, being the generous guy he was, offered them his home so they didn’t have to sleep outside in the dangerous city. The Sour Motherfuckers in the city got wind that there were strangers in town, surrounded Lot’s house, and told Lot to send them out so they could rape them.** That is agreed upon in two separate passages of the Bible. The Sodomites’ sin, according to Everything About Sodom In The Bible, wasn’t homosexuality, it was a lack of goodwill towards strangers. Does anyone see the irony in the citation of these passages by those hoping to exclude gays from everything under the sun?

“Sherman Avenue isn’t heinous.”
I will see to it that you die painfully, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction.

Because, see, I can do that.

“The heinous behind us and the heinous before us are tiny matters compared to the heinous within us” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

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*Warning: You should not rely on a Mozart-induced spatio-temporal IQ burst to save you from a two million piece puzzle.
**There’s a bit where Lot’s like, “You could rape my virgin daughter or my concubine instead of these dudes I just met, because apparently it’s okay not to respect women, my family, or women in my family.” Conflicting accounts in Judges and Genesis then say that either the Sodomites raped the hell out of his poor concubine, or the angels in the house blinded the offending Sodomites before anyone got raped and warned Lot to skip town.