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Welcome to the fourth edition of “Ask the Intern.” At the beginning of each week I prompt the followers of @TFMintern on twitter to participate by asking me questions of an unrestricted nature. Inquiries can also be emailed to TFMintern@gmail.com. These are my answers to the questions I felt merited a response:
“What’s the sluttiest place for a tattoo on a girl? The trashiest?”
Let me start by saying all tattoos are trashy. Nonetheless, I’d say the sluttiest place a girl can get a tattoo is below the waistline, right above her *****. I mean if you’ve got “Live Laugh Love,” or anything of equal hypocrisy tattooed above your reproductive organ then your dad probably chokes himself when he masturbates at night. That being said, the lower back tramp stamp still strikes me as the trashiest spot for a tattoo. It’s incredibly overdone, “might as well be a bullseye,” and makes me feel ashamed when I’m staring down at it and nailing her from behind.
“How do you feel about the growing number of female sports analysts?”
If they stick to analyzing (looking hot a la Erin Andrews and reading analysis that a man wrote) then I don’t have a problem with it. But when they cross the line and become commentators it makes my blood boil…and it’s not because I’m sexist. It’s because it honestly takes something away from the game.
“Is there anything or anyone you’d go gay for? Only one time, but you’ll play both roles.”
No, but I really appreciate you making sure I understand that I would “play both roles.” Now it’s my turn to ask a question. What is wrong with you? Stop projecting on me.
“Janet Jackson, Gary Busey, Elizabeth Taylor. Marry one, fuck one, kill one. GO.”
This is a pretty difficult one, because if you don’t kill Janet Jackson you end up marrying or fucking something that looks like Michael Jackson. But if you kill her then you end up marrying or fucking Gary Busey. After great consideration, I’d murder Janet Jackson, fuck Elizabeth Taylor, and marry Busey. Fuck it. Divorce is an easy fix.
“On a scale of 1-10 how fratty is it to have sex doggy style during Monday Night Football so you can get laid and watch the game?”
The problem is that now instead of watching boobs bounce or enjoying your female friend in some other ocular fashion, you’re watching football. Don’t get me wrong, the NFL is incredible, but if the girl is a 10 and you decide to watch Raiders/Broncos instead of her, there’s something wrong with you.
“How many hipsters does it take to screw in a light bulb?”
“How do you think the world will end?”
Soon the day will come when I post a TFM that pushes God over the edge, and Armageddon will commence shortly after. Could be today. Stay on your toes. The end is near.
“Don’t Stop Believing or Friends in Low Places, which is better?”
“Don’t Stop Believing” is for raging and beer showering strangers at the frat castle. “Friends in Low Places” is for swaying back and forth in a whiskey drunk mob at the bar while shouting the lyrics at each other. Personally, I prefer the “Don’t Stop Believing” scenario.
“What Halloween costume would you recommend I get my little belle Labrador puppy?”
The lab version of this:
“I just want to know…when is it okay to wear socks? At what point are my tie-dye knee-highs TFTC?”
I don’t make the rules, but if you rock knee-high tie-dye socks anywhere near me I’ll light them on fire while they’re still on your feet. The sock debate has gone on for too long. You’ve either got common sense or you don’t.
“Who raged harder, Rex Ryan for beating the Cowboys, Tom Brady for raping Miami, or Janikowski for tying the NFL field goal record?”
Rex Ryan loses because sucking toes isn’t the same as raging, and Brady doesn’t rage. He just goes home, slays his model wife, and studies defensive coverages. Janikowski is a Raider, has a penchant for vodka so infamous that he’s been called “Vodka Toe,” and looks like he enjoys death metal. So he probably had a BAC higher than Ryan and Brady combined after this one.
“Best late 80s early 90s action movie?”
If you haven’t seen “Over The Top” (1987) you’re missing out on a fine piece of American cinema. This is the IMDb plot summary: “Lincoln Hawke (Stallone) is a struggling trucker who’s trying to rebuild his life. After the death of his wife, he tries to make amends with his son who he left behind years earlier. Upon their first meeting, his son doesn’t think too highly of him until he enters the nationwide arm wrestling competition in Las Vegas.” It’s a perfectly absurd movie to enjoy while recovering from a brutal hangover that has rendered your brain useless.
“How do you want to die? Blaze of glory? Old and senile?”
Preferably a grand combination of the two: old and senile in a blaze of glory.
“What is the best type of music to listen to while violently ripping the head off an animal cookie while about to tee off on 18?”
Don’t freak out. If I didn’t get to your question this week, I might next week. But FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, NO MORE FOR TODAY.