Dude, Seriously! I'm bored!

Misquote of the day:

"The war between being and nothingness is the

underlying illness of the twentieth century.

Boredom slays more of existence than war."

-Jerome Jonas "the lost Jonas Brother," July 1991

(following the arrest of Paul Reubens)

I think there is no phrase that I hate more than the phrase "I'm bored."

The phrase itself can be completely harmless. Most instances of "I'm bored" only lead to an A.D.D. dance-off between you and your beloved electronics. But sooner or later you get tired of using your bluetooth remote to control your iPod, your iPad, and your iConventional Toaster Oven. Then, it's back to being bored.

Side Note: The new iConventional Toaster Ovens are only worth buying if you get the Leopard X operating system, and don't even think about getting the toaster that Microsoft makes. The damn thing still runs on Vista and that's just a whole lot of unnecessary frustration.

Then there is the darker side to "I'm bored."

In a post-Jackass world, the result of proclaiming this phrase can lead to things such as bicycle jousting, rollerblade jousting, and the successful comedy career of Carlos Mencia. Even though I may enjoy a good recreational joust from time to time, Carlos Mencia never should have happened.

I will never understand why the phrase "I'm bored" makes some people feel like it's a contractual obligation to do the next dumb idea that is put on the table. It's really not hard to assert yourself and resist the urge to break your femur. For example:

Dude: Guy!!! I have an idea.

Guy: What's that?

Dude: Let's make a pit.

Guy: Who we gonna put in it?

Dude: No man, we're gonna put sand in it.

Guy: How big of a pit?

Dude: Well big enough for two people to fight in.

Guy: WHAT!?!?

Dude: Okay, four people to fight in.

Guy: Dude, Seriously? Just...no.

......fast forward thirty minutes later into this same conversation....

Dude: Look man, it's not assault if everyone agrees to it.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm sure boredom has led to some amazing ideas. I don't doubt the fact that some dude seriously got bored and ended up composing a symphony, painting a masterpiece, or creating Youtube (or at least one of it's hilarious spin-off websites, heh heh heh, TightyWhiteyTube).

But my point, America, is sometimes a little good ol' wholesome boredom is what you need to get the blood completely stagnant.

Must we always be entertained? Can't we just freakin' sit down at the beach and be content with the......well.......you know......the water and stuff....

You know, I was going to make a very profound point here, but now I'm just really bored with all of this. I need something else to distract me.

Dude, seriously, why do you think I started this blog? I get bored, so I blog, then I get bored with all the bloggin' and...whatever, don't judge me.

Well America, I've got better things to do with my time than just sit around and be bored. I've got a pit to build.

This is a photo of Honduran-born Ned Holness doing stand-up comedy earlier in his career before he took the name Carlos Mencia and began posing as a Mexican. He's been a poser ever since.

Dude, Seriously? How do you not have a stripper name?

Misquote of the day:
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."
– will.i.am, August, 1974
(in response to the Watergate Scandal and the resignation of President Richard M. Nixon)

During the current state of the economy, it’s pretty easy for some of us to come up with some crazy money-making schemes. My friends and I have come up with our fair share of crazy ideas that could compete with the likes of Kenan & Kel, Pinky & the Brain, and McCain & Palin (I can’t help but smile when I think of those two and their crazy adventures). Anyway, a common career path I’ve always entertained is that of a male exotic dancer.

Now before you get to judgin’ and whatnot, you’d be surprised how many guys have considered this as a way to make ends meat (tee hee hee). Apparently, most guys are in agreement that in order to pursue a career as a professional rump shaker, you have to have a good name.

The stripper name can tell more about a guy’s personality than the “Info” section of Facebook ever could. The funny thing is when you ask a dude about his stripper name, nine times out of ten, he will respond instantly. Dude, seriously, why do we think about this stuff?

So if you are one of the sad, sad fellas that do not have a name to call their own, don’t worry, we can fix this. There are only two rules to creating a stripper name:

Rule #1: Don’t talk about Fight Club. It’s not going to help the situation. And the last thing you want to happen when you are trying to figure out your booty bumping persona, is some never-ending conversation about “what it all meant” and “how the book was better yada yada yada”.

Rule#2: For the love of God, no chocolate. I’m sorry if I’m hurting Chocolate Thunder’s and White Chocolate’s feelings, but the chocolate in your name thing is not the way to go. I think it’s the equivalent of getting a Japanese word tattoo. The purpose of this is to show some personality and creativity people. Let’s not get lazy here.

With these rules in place, you are more than ready to wander the man-thong corridors of your mind to find yourself. Now your eye candy identity can range from the ever-so-eloquent Lex Studdington to the not-so-eloquent Bo Jangles. Whatever you choose, make it good and let it reflect who you are. Let the name choose you. Yeah, it’s that serious.

Trust and believe, once you have figured out the name of your exotic-dancing alter-ego, air will taste sweeter and colors will be brighter. Also, when you and your friends start to refer to each other using only your stripper names, it makes conversation a lot more interesting. For example:

“What’s up Lex?”

“Sup, Bo?”

“You look down. What’s going on?”

“Well, I was at work yesterday just hanging out by the water cooler with Jack Hammer, Oscar Mayer,and Smash Crenshaw, when Chance Longstrong came up to us all bummed out.”

“What was wrong with him?”

“Well, you know that he’s dating my sister, Hello Kitty.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he thinks that she’s cheating on him with that dude she always hangs out with, One Night Stan."

“Dude, seriously.”

“Seriously dude.”

For those of you that think this is pretty ridiculous, I want you to know that I didn’t make up a single stripper name in this whole blog. These are all names of friends and people I work with. If you think you know your friends and your co-workers now, ask them about their stripper name. Just don’t ask your dad. Nothing good can come from that interaction.

As for me, let it be known, if my current job doesn’t work out, then you can head to your local Chippendales club to see me shake what my momma gave me.

“Ladies, get your dollar bills ready and put your hands together for Chip Strippenstuff.”
(cue “Who Let The Dogs Out? – Baha Men)




This is a promotional photograph from my “Weapons of Ass Destruction 2014 World Tour”.

Dude, Seriously? Why do I have a blog?

Misquote of the day:
A man's style is his mind's voice. Wooden minds, wooden voices.
– Soulja Boy Tell 'Em, February, 1964
(after his first appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show)

Ever since the 1980 release of the musical film, “Fame”, people have been trying to claim their 15 minutes of it. The problem is the movie is only 134 minutes long, so I’m sorry, but there simply isn’t enough fame to go around. Over an hour’s worth of fame is taken up by Angelina Jolie’s upper lip alone, and don’t even get me started on the bottom lip.

My point, which I made no attempt to make clear in the previous paragraph, is that for some reason everyone believes that they are entitled to some sort of fame, or at least entitled to “have their voice heard”. And damn it, I’m no exception. HEAR ME AMERICA!!!! (and parts of Japan. No, not you Malaysia)

I’ve always been a huge fan of the blogiverse, but I’ve never felt that anyone would care to read my planet……or comet……or……never mind. I got lost in the metaphor.

Anyway, I’ve never believed that my star would be subscribworthyableful? I mean, dude, seriously, why would I need some real estate on the interweb for me to articulate my brainwaves? Oh yeah, Facebook……… Screw it, let’s do this thing?

So here I am. I guess I’ll give this whole blogging thing the ol’ community college try. Who knows? Maybe I’ll obtain as much fame as Hilary Swank’s Adam’s Apple. I know, probably not, but a brotha can dream.


This is me during an appearance on The Daily Show promoting my new book, “Now I Know Why The Cage Bird Wants To Move Out Of Low-Income Housing”. I’m also talking with Dreamworks to produce an animated film adaptation, “Now I Know Why The Cage Bird Wants To Move Out Of Low-Income Housing in 3D”.