An obscure number of reasons why having a penis is amazing - Part One

Here are some things I think make having a penis better than not having a penis, in no particular order. I also will refer to it using a different slang word each time.

4. You get to piss in any direction you want.

This one's my favorite. If you have a vagina, you have to squat, and it sprays out like when you put your finger over the hose. It's incredibly hilarious, but highly inefficient. If you have a dick, you can piss any direction you want, and it's a solid, strong stream of superiority. I have literally pissed in an upward (and slightly forward) direction. Try that with your vagina (please film it). Also, you can write things in snow, and pee on your buddy's shoe while you're at adjacent urinals. THAT'S ANOTHER THING! Urinals. Specifically, urinal cakes. People without a purple-headed-yogurt-slinger don't ever get to experience the joys of urinal cakes.

Delicious, and you can erode them with your pee.

17. You can put it in stuff.

Anything you like, to be specific. The beauty about having a one-eyed snake is that you can put it wherever you want. It hangs, it swings, and it's flexible. Meaning if you ever have an urge to put it into a random household appliance, you can fucking do it. Try doing that with your clitoris, ladies (also film this). From a practical, every day perspective, this isn't much of a benefit, however having the satisfaction of looking at a toaster and knowing that you can stick your shaft in it, is absolutely priceless.

Sorry honey, it's just burning off my pubic hair from this morning's "random insertion hour"

68. You fuck with it. 

Cocks fuck vaginas. It's never the other way around. The simple fact that one is going inside the other, means that the vagina is always getting fucked. This will never be disputed, and there are no arguments. Why? Cause me and my pork sword fucking said so.

There's not really any pictures that support this point, so instead here's a fat spiderman. 

11. You can do the helicopter.

That's right, if you have a wang you can spin it 'round and 'round. Like a helicopter. This is more than entertainment, it's male ritual. A celebration of the glory of having a bologna pony. Rumor also has it, if you wanna impress a chick, do the helicopter-dick (that was one word).

119. It's a portable towel rack.

This one comes in handy all the time. Have you ever gotten out of the shower, and not had anywhere to put your towel while you brush your teeth? Why not leave it on you ask? Because I've got a portable towel rack, right here. All I've gotta do is think about Zooey Deschanel, and bam - my man-muscle is ready to hold that towel! Try doing that with your vagina (please film it). I don't have a picture for this, google images fails to provide me with a related picture, and frankly I'm sort of grateful.


That's all I've got for now.

Written while listening to this

lol.

When you take a closer look at cereal mascots... Part Two

Moving along, let's take a gander at three more of our childhood icons...

Count Chocula (Violent Psychopath)

Vlah! I am levitating these marshmallows while I wait for my next victim at the nursing home! 

Count Chocula is a dangerous motherfucker. It's no wonder his cereal has been discontinued. At first glance, he seems like a harmless, delusional misshapen poor soul, just looking to find acceptance and love from your children. Why wouldn't you trust him? I mean, nobody has ever made this mistake right?

Uhh... Right. 

Aside from his obvious predatory tendencies, this guy actually believes he's a vampire. How far he goes, we still are unsure of, but rumors have it he sharpened his tooth so he could drain cartons of chocolate milk with ease. His next step? Jugular veins. Keep an eye out for this guy.


Lucky the Leprechaun (Paranoid Schizophrenic) 

They be over the crest of the hill! Hope those kids like bear traps!

Lucky is our first (and only) non-violent, harmless cereal mascot. The reasons for this could be a number of things that I make up, but I'll be honest here and admit it's because I like lucky charms. This dude is still fucked in the head though. Those commercials you saw? The ones where the kids were chasing him? Yeah that never happened. They're the delusions of a homeless man living under a bridge in Chicago, with a bunch of brightly coloured pieces of dried bird shit and... actually, that's an awesome addition to the Cereal show I've been working on (see the second post I've ever made)... anyways, harmless as can be, but he smells like a septic tank.


Sugar Bear (Stoner Kleptomaniac)

What you don't see is the joint in his left hand and the Rolex hidden in the cereal.

 Arguably just as harmless as Lucky (but he isn't because I said so) this bear literally spends his days getting ripped off bong hits and breaking into a "cereal" factory to loot god knows what, and cure his munchies. Is this really a cereal factory? Well the official answer is nobody knows, but my answer is no, in fact it's a secret weapons facility in Soviet Russia, and the C.I.A recruited this klepto stoner bear to steal documents in exchange for an xbox and unlimited Doritos. Also, he rapes kids.


That's it for part two!

Written while listening to this.

When you take a closer look at cereal mascots... Part One

You discover the sick, twisted truth behind them all.

"But Mike!" You exclaim, as you curl up with your giant stuffed Tony the Tiger, "They're not real!".

This may be true, and I have no argument for that, so I'll pretend like I didn't hear it. Moving along, lets examine these so called "mascots".

Tony the Tiger (Rapist)

Seriously? Do you need a caption here? This guy screams "fucking sicko"

Take a second and look at this guy. Firstly, pay attention to the fact that he's got a bandana tied around his neck. Not only does this tell us that Tony here is linked with the Bloods, but it also is used to cover his face when he's abducting children at the Zoo. Secondly, he rapes kids. Need I say more?


Dig-Um The Smack's Frog (Pedophile)

Look at me! Now I'm here, now i'm over here, and... CHLOROFORM SURPRISE!

This guy here, well... I don't really need to get into much detail. Clearly we have a mid thirties frog, dressing himself like a pre-teen. There's your first clue, all you super sleuths out there. Secondly, everyone fucking hates Kellogg's Smacks. So that's reason enough for this jizzbag to molest children. Lastly, he's a frog, and everyone knows frogs are pedophiles.

Captain Crunch (Sadist)

Little known fact: He not only wrote "Saw", he lived it. 

Oh, Captain Crunch. Where to begin? For starters, this guy clearly has some repressed control issues. He dresses up like a friendly Captain, yet he has no ship, no crew, nothing. What he does have is a friendly, luring smile and a pretty blue uniform. Once he has you, he fucks your mouth. Literally. This guy is all about bringing the pain. One mouthful of his cereal can be compared to chewing a box of tacks and then gargling with lemon juice.

That's all for part one.

Written in silence.

Life is punishing me.

For my "So many fucks" post.

Since that post, I have:

-Written off my work van, in an accident that was entirely my fault.
-Fucked up huge with school
-Had my car payment NSF twice due to bank error. I'd be okay with this if I actually didn't have the money, but I did.

Bad things happen in three's right? Like the Harry Potter movies should have, or Twilight.

Anyways, to put a happy spin on this, I'll talk about my newfound love for acoustic rock/folk/alt country music. If you've never explored indie music, check out 8tracks.com. It's a wonderous invention, and forces you to discover new music that you probably would never have given a shot.

I'll write a real post soon I promise.

Written while listening to the traffic on Dunlop St.

One month in...

So exactly one month ago, I made all of your lives better by starting this blog. In that time, there have been 208 views, including 11 from Russia, 5 from Germany, and 2 from the US. Go fucking figure.  Hopefully they learned something valuable, or were horribly offended.

Anyways, there is little point in me actually writing this post other than to celebrate the one month anniversary of my beloved blog.

I leave you with this:

I really have no witty comment for this. Let's just enjoy the simplistic hilarity.

So many fucks.

I should be studying right now, but I don't want to.

I always seem to get sucked into deep thought in traffic jams, there's something somewhat inspiring and calming about being surrounded by angry motorists. Today, while sitting in ridiculous 401 traffic with my sidekick super dog Atticus, I had a few startling revelations...

Today's Revelations

1. I am in love with Regina Spektor. She's not stupid hot or anything, modestly pretty at best, but something about her voice, it's absurdly attractive. 
2. It is very embarrassing to be a guy sitting in traffic listening to Regina Spektor with your windows open. People look at you differently, to say the least. 
3. My dog also enjoys Regina Spektor, possibly more than I do. She's in love. We're eventually going to have to battle for Regina's love, and only one of us will live to blog about it. Hopefully it's me because Atticus cannot spell, and she also does not have fingers.

Or a penis. Major advantage for me. 

Finally, I realized that over the past few months, I have completely rid myself of road rage. I have also brought myself down from an "8" to a "4" on the "Danger to others while angry" scale. This is really the only true revelation I had, as I already knew my love for Ms. Spektor existed, and always suspected Atticus of being my primary competition.

To build further on this, most people who knew me a year ago, know I was a bit of a stress-ball. I had a short fuse, and my kryptonite was stupid drivers, and ignorant people. Also, Kryptonite. They'd always set me into an uncontrollable rage, and I'd end up huge and green and half naked. I'd also go through clothes really quickly.

So what happened? Well, I'm not entirely sure, but I speculate it's because I threw away all of my fucks. What's a fuck you ask? It's difficult to explain, so I'll use this clever analogy I literally just thought of:

Imagine me holding a basket of muffins. Blueberry ones. Those are all of my fucks. Now, when something annoying or bad would happen, I would give one of my fucks away. This displeased me greatly. Now imagine me throwing that basket of muffins into the forest, and a bunch of hungry forest critters eating them all. Maybe some of them got left behind and went all mouldy and gross. Who knows, who cares.

That's what happened. I fed my fucks to forest critters, and now I have no fucks to give. Make sense? Too bad. 

Anyways, my point is I simply don't give a fuck about stupid drivers anymore. Mind you, I still mutter threats under my breath (or loudly if someone else is in the car, because it's sort of funny) and I still admit that if I ever develop kinetic powers, I'd use them to explode the colostomy bags of slow elderly drivers in front of me. That'd be awesome. 

"I don't know what happened! One minute Grandma was doing 85 in the fast lane, and the next thing I know, everything was covered in shit!"

The other advantage of this, is that being so high strung would have probably taken an easy 10 years off of my life. Combined with that time I ate a giant box of lucky charms in 48 hours to see what color it would make my poop (green, FYI), I'm sure my life expectancy would have been 30. Meet the calmer, gentler, longer living Mike Ross. 

That's all I've got.

Written while listening to this.