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Friday, August 31, 2007
End of Summer Dance Party Okay'ed by Dean of Camp whistlebritches The end of summer camp dance/party is on starting 5ish Sunday at the purple house. Wear your penn tennis ball ringers and your athletic shorts with the awesome white piping or the three stripes. Tube and bootie socks are a must. This shit will be a total jam with color wars in effect. I pick the yellow team over the red any day. Do you think Jo from Facts of life will really blow Michael J. this time? I hope so! Real info is posted here, courtesy of a music editor of some weekly entertainment/city news alternative publication. Here's the scoop: Just wanted to drop you a line to let you know we're having a party at our place on Sunday afternoon/evening. It's Labor Day on Monday, so enjoy an extra day of weekendness as summer drags itself closer to the lower degrees. And if a party weren't enough, it's a themed party! The residents of the Purple House -- along with special co-host MB -- are planning a Summer Camp shindig and will serve as your counselors for the evening. So get your bathing suits, knee socks, short shorts and visors out as we have a Summer Camp Party on Sunday night… drinking, sure, but perhaps also a weenie roast. S'mores! Wiffle ball! Your favorite summer jams! Perhaps a tug o'war in the backyard! We will give out awards to the most deserving campers of the summer! And more! Exclamation point! Sunday, Sept. 2 (hit mb up for directions) 5 p.m.ish for outdoor sports, and then into the night… (Basket weaving at 3 a.m.) Tuesday, August 28, 2007
I recently bought 65 awesome records some 70s, 80s and early 90s dj left at Potter's House. Special Ed's Legal lp has totally remained on my turntable after that morning of sleep-deprived, dust-infested record spelunkering. Other great finds include Twilight 22's "Siberian Nights" 12 inch, MC ADE's "Transformers" and JJ Fadd's Supersonic ep. After record shopping I went to the Golden Dragon lunch buffet with the poet and declared it the best morning of my life. "You look like you was on Beauty and the Geek. Do you like to hug supermodels?" quipped by a 17-year old high school student in 3rd period today... omggggggg i finally have the internet here at home again! let the torrential downpour of pornography commence. Sunday, August 26, 2007
i shaky right now what's up faggots! i just bought a cup of coffee and my hands were shaking so badly i couldn't select 3 nickels from my handful of change to give to the guy behind the counter. eventually i got it though! i'm nothing if not persistent. what a long weekend this has been. i need a shower. did you hear that in uganda they're advocating not washing the penis right after sex because the risk for HIV infection increases something like 10 percent if you go scrub it right away as opposed to waiting a bit? you're supposed to wait like 30 minutes before showering. here is a link to prove it. you know how in those movies where people are held hostage for a long time, or have to stop terrorists and don't get a chance to take a shower? i wonder if they smell bad. we don't really get an acurate depiction of the reality going on there because we can't smell it for ourselves. it probably smells bad. and they're probably greasy. can you imagine what people smell like after getting lost in the jungle for days? i smell like hell and i've only been 24 hours (give or take) without a shower. i hate sundays because it's the day when all the couples in the world come out in their house clothes and post-coital hair looking as ugly as ever for a cup of coffee and to perhaps read the times at brunch. especially in my neighborhood. it's so depressing. (though not nearly as obnoxious and i suppose really fucking cool as those two that were reading that pink paper that time - was it the observer jbd? it was! audacious. i'm going to subscribe and start carrying it around.) right now i can see some well dressed guys eating brunch outside at this really expensive french restaurant drinking bloodies and i'm envious. i'm in a coffee shop that sells really small sandwiches, and one of those ugly couples that i mentioned earlier came in for a little lunch. they sat at a table cattycorner from me for awhile - the girl wearing too short shorts that were really loose fitting - and when they got up she gave her crotch such a scratch i think i saw al bundy blush. i can't drink today for my own sanity's sake. Monday, August 20, 2007
Yesterday, I spent the afternoon basking comfortably in the Lexus section of Atlanta's Turner Field. A group of local musicians, club employees, teachers and general drunkards made the trip via chauffeured van to the Braves home field in an attempt to try the park's amazing "All you can drink/eat" ticket promotion and cheer as the Braves thrashed the Diamondbacks. The promotion was well worth the money as I managed to down 11 draft Buds and Bud lights, 7 wings, a bbq sandwich, a hotdog with sauerkraut, two helpings of potato salad, two helpings of coleslaw, some cornbread and a few peanuts. The food was really pretty good, especially the potato salad, and the beer was cold and readily available. I discovered that Willie Harris' theme song is Soulja Boy's "Crank Dat (Supaman)and I got to see Yunel Escobar hit his second home run of the season. Smoltz also pitched a pretty mean game. We left immediately at the end of the game, and I recruited a few more people for the college football pick'em on the ride home. I spent the rest of the evening trying to sober myself, and I think I succeeded sometime during my 7:00 a.m. commute to work this morning. Sunday, August 19, 2007
this is how we call it a comeback places that still charge for wifi can suck a motherfucking strapping veiny cock and swallow it down harrrdddddd. that's the most unconscionable thing i can fucking think of at this moment in time. starbucks? gurgle it down, motherfuckers. mcdonalds? why do you even have wifi and who do you think is going to come in your restaurant and pay to use it? most importantly starbucks though. you sons of bitches. i give you enough money annually to pay for a personal fucking laptop and a wireless connection and you charge 6 DOLLARS FOR A DAY PASS? first, are people even allowed to sit in starbucks for a whole day? starbucks, i will kill you. it's rather unfortunate that my internet crisis is occurring now bc now is when i feel most pregnant with ideas. ready to give birth to the most scintillating oceanchum posts you have ever laid your bedroom eyes on! i swear to god! as it stands, i just think of the posts, then think of how i can't get online, then go masturbate into a cup and nestle on a warm pile of terrycloth towels in the corner of my apartment then drift off into slumberland u.s.a. population me. i would post at work like any right and moral human being who works at a desk (sorry all you ditch diggers! i know your blogs would be the best! if anyone knows any blogs by any ditch diggers, PLEASE LEAVE A LINK IN THE COMMENTS BELOW.) but no, i can't post to my blog at work OH NO. because if i so much as sneak around the corner to fart in a closet then i've just summarily caused myself to get so behind with my work that the tongue lashing and emotional abuse that i'll suffer as a result are enough to make me feel like i'm living with my parents again. couple of things of interest: i just read a blog by this porn star wherein she says that she got "fucked so hard it felt like she was five months pregnant." and i thought that was pretty fucking awesome. my job is slowly killing me. one of my coworkers forwarded me one of those shitty ecard things that people forward around (i'm imagining them to be the doonsbury cartoons of ought seven) and it said, "that which doesn't kill you only makes you want to commit suicide" and there's some truth in that. especially where my job is concerned. i can smell my feet/shoes right now and they smell like a combination of someone's sweaty sneakers after mowing the lawn with a push mower, someone's asshole, and soft boiled eggs. one thing i've learned about new york city- there are some really fucking ugly looking guys with really attractive girlfriends, most of which are either pushing around a thousand dollar stroller with an offspring inside, or have an offspring growing inside of them. mindblowing. have any of you ever seen a dolphin or a beluga whale give birth? OR ANY SEA MAMMAL FOR THAT MATTER? it's really cool and restores my faith in the human race in an odd way. look at this clip of said birth if you want to. RADICAL. that dolphin is ready to fucking roll! ok, i best be wraping this up. it's about to rain it appears, and vonny vonnerson is a comin to town to throw the frisbee around. merry christmas. Thursday, August 16, 2007
Oh, what a vacation! Yes, I've been spending my vacation inside the hallowed halls of a classroom and inside the dank interior of another classroom, and it's been lovely. So, here are a couple of work-related projects I have coming up. 1: College football pick'em. I'm organizing a group and we already have more than 15 entrants. Want in? Hit me up. 2: End of Summer Camp Dance Party (The other guys involved and I are still in the planning stages) This should take place on Labor Day weekend and feature summer camp inspired tunes from the 70s and 80s, camp counselor attire, smores and a weenie roast. Oh and contraband candy bars, nudie mags and killer joints for the counselors. Striped tube socks and blue or red athletic shorts with white piping are encouraged. Tuesday, August 14, 2007
languishing it's been over a week since the last post here at oceanchum due to a multitude of inhibiting factors - first and foremost being the fact that i'm unable to connect to the internet at home (probably because the neighbors have wised up to my internet thieving ways.) i'm in a store posting right now, but it's way too chaotic for me to go on any further. i just wanted to let everyone know that we're not dead and there's still more to come. . Monday, August 06, 2007
I'll begin physical phitness week at oceanchum with one of my new dieting discoveries. It's Saturday night and you know you need to curb your urge to raise hell. You have a beach trip planned for the upcoming weeks and you know your abs need to be looking tippy-top in your never ending quest to impress members of the opposite sex. You know you'll never make washboard mode and, to be straight fucking honest, you hate the holy catshit out of abs workouts. So, what's one's best bet to trim the gutline while still keeping a maximum rage? Here's a quick fix, a tried and true solution to your dieting/rage quotient debacle. 1: Go out Friday night and drink vodka sodas until you start getting tipsy. Then, switch to your favorite light beer. Dip out early during the afterglow and get some sleep. 2: Work out hard on Saturday and eat some seafood that's not fried. Masturbate to your favorite syndicated television drama and do the dishes. Masturbating will relieve sexual tension and doing light housework, especially in the evening, will promote your homebody tendencies. Watch some awesome On-Demand cable and eat a dinner featuring amazing roasted veggies or eat a fucking steak for all I care. I'm not your mother. Do the dishes again. At this point, it's probably getting late and the partygoer is most likely in antsy mode. So, here's the end-all diet solution to curb your later evening party pangs: 3: Open up a box of crackers. I don't give a shit what kind, as long as they're not Wassa. 4: Set the oven at 375 degrees. 5: Drink a Guiness. 6: Get out some peanut butter and spread over a cracker. 7: Pull out the mossy-ass kush you ruined when you were too high to remove that orange peel. 8: Get out your coffee grinder. 9: Grind some of that kush up fine as froghair. 10: Sprinkle the kush on a cracker. 11: Place the other half of the cracker on top of the kushed-laced open-faced p.b. cracker and make a tiny sandwich. 12: Wrap in aluminum foil and bake at 375 degrees for 35 or more minutes. 13: Drink another Guiness and eat that cracker. 14: Listen to whatever and wait for about 40 minutes. At first, you'll be bored, but after the THC works its way into your system, you won't be worried about anything for the next 3-5 hours. 15: When you wake up the next morn, you'll be hangover free and will have consumed far less alcohol than you would ever have imagined possible. You may have even saved yourself about 900 calories. That's a pretty hellacious hour on the treadmill. 16: Do some crunches upon waking to ensure your newly-acquired stoner badass stature and prepare for a month filled with erotic encounters as the opposite sex beckons. Physical Phitness So, it has recently become apparent that many people I know are becoming obsessed with fitness and weight loss (myself included). A cute co-worker of mine has recently taken to working out for two hours at a time and "doesn't really eat dinner any more." My blogging partner is getting fit like Weezy, and another friend recently joked about trying out anorexia (this is a joke, for I know the friend well enough to not be worried). I've even vowed to eat healthier, hit the gym with more intensity and curb my drinking (which can easily be curbed when special peanut butter crackers are consumed. Since Xmas, I've dropped 12 libs, but I'm determined to get back down to my old tennis playing weight before the end of the year. Finally, the new strength and conditioning coach at my workplace has 15 employees interested in a "Biggest Loser" weight loss competition. So, what's the ruckus? For the most part, everyone on my list only wants/needs to get fit because we're all single, like to drink (some like to smoke)and want to appear attractive to the right somebody at the correct time. My blogging partner only needs to spend another vacation at his pop's farm and let the flaxen curls recommit themselves to their former Joe Namath splendor. I basically just need to cut out one weekend night of drinking and take up boxing, and the women just need to keep looking fine. However, no one needs to eat too much Wassa, for that shit leaves ulcerous sensations when overconsumed. So, for the next week, I would like you, loyal oceanchum fitness buffs, to share your darkest/deepest dieting/fitness secrets on our site. Also, feel free to divulge any sordid fetishes you might possess. Sometimes one needs a vacation from the weekend My typical weekend warriorship needed some down time this weekend, so I new I would be faced with the arduous task of keeping sane. Also, Friday night's dj shift, which offers free drinks, wasn't going to help matters. However, a nice balance between sobriety and party mode was attained, and, for once, I enjoyed a hangover-free weekend. a: People at Go look confused when commanded to "Crank Dat Supaman." b: La Estrella's nachos rule. c: Warren G's "Regulate" is a can't-miss party jam classic. d: Non-keeper league fantasy football drafts are awesome. e: Sauce's parents can make a mean low country boil. f: Special crackers can make a life of celibacy do it for a man on a Saturday Night G: Inoko offers a pretty good Sunday lunch option. H: Weeds is great. double you ee ee kay ee in dee you know that movie 'women on the verge of a nervous' breakdown? that's like me. only i'm not a woman. i came into work and there's this movie on abc with a girl with a good haircut drinking whiskey. lots of it. in some sort of alcoholic breakdown moment. the movie is 'noise'. that scene made me want a drink badly. tomorrow i'm gonna jog and try to be as fit as li'l wayne. i'm going to try and be as fit as li'l wayne till next weekend. Friday, August 03, 2007
Dance, Asshole Tomorrow Night Dance Party Where: Go Who: Djs Strawberry Julius, Baby Pandas, Frzzzly Rooster Time: 10:30 p.m. What: meatballs jams, summer sausages, fantasy ballads and souls scorchers Get bent, ladies and gents. Wednesday, August 01, 2007
what's going on in belarus again! today was a grim day in belarus, as gazprom (petroleum giant in russia) announcedc they would halve their fuel supplies beginning friday due to unpaid debts accrued over the past 8 months. can you guys believe it's been 8 months since that midnight deal between belarus and gazprom on new year's eve? me either. ah well, ultimately gazprom was raising the fuck out of petrol prices to belarus, but they agreed to let them only pay half of the actual cost for the first half of the year before the real prices kicked in retroactively. rupert murdoch's new paper says it best below:
chaos! |