- Mansplaining The Big Short To Our Girlfriends
I’ve always liked The Big Short. Any Michael Lewis book that gets turned into a movie slaps harder than a Puerto Rican porn star getting concerningly into a domination scene, and that’s a fact. I’m not going to explain the plot for people that haven’t seen it, but The Big Short requires a rudimentary understanding of Wall Street and hyper-focus. If you scroll Twitter for even two minutes, you’ve lost all understanding of what’s happening in the movie. I try my hardest not to mansplain that much. Nobody likes the douchebag that breaks down football formations when their girlfriend didn’t ask or the finance guy that berates a girl at the bar with information about what it’s like being a junior analyst. With that being said, I think mansplaining this movie to my girlfriend was one of the best experiences I ever had. She clearly did not care, but because it was the day before my birthday, she felt bad, so she let me pause the movie every ten minutes with you see that baby? The CDOs are all dogshit, Bear Stearns stock is going down HOLY SHIT ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION BABY, and the classic I’m not gay, but something about Ryan Gosling in this movie makes me feel like I’m gay.
2. Pinch Itching Our Nutsacks
It’s not the seven beers I’m going to consume tonight that’s getting me through this workday. Nor is it the two episodes of Prison Break that I’m going to watch before I go to bed. The one thing that’s getting me through the back pain of sitting in this shitty ass wooden chair for ten hours a day as I develop Carpal Tunnel syndrome is the moment when I finally sit on the couch and itch my sweaty ballsack by pinch-rolling it. There’s no better feeling on earth than a nice pinch itch of the ballsack. Some people scratch, some rub, but the pinch reigns supreme.
3. Getting GroupMe Likes
Yesterday on my podcast, That Never Happened (shameless plug), my co-host Toby made a point that I wholeheartedly agree with: I would rather get twelve GroupMe likes than 60,000 likes on TFM. It’s not that I don’t love people liking the memes, my videos, or my blogs, it’s just the fact that respect coming from my friends is the highest honor I could ever achieve. And not because I think highly of them, it’s purely because they are the sickest, most twisted individuals that God could’ve created. If some of my friends were made in 2k, God would’ve put all of the VC’s available on being gigantic pieces of shit. For those of you in GroupMe’s, you get it. Getting thirty percent of your GroupMe to like a message is what I think trying Oxycontin for the first time must feel like (based on listening to podcasts interviewing addicts). It’s an insatiable ecstasy. And with those highs come lows. For anybody reading this who has recently been goose-egged on a meme they tossed in the GroupMe, I refer you to my blogs about overcoming suicidal thoughts.
4. Taking One Wipe Shits
I don’t have to explain this further. I had one yesterday. Nothing better.
5. Taylor Swift’s Old Music
Don’t fucking lie to me. If you haven’t bumped Our Song walking around in public and strategically turned down the volume whenever you passed someone intimidating, you’re the weird one here. I don’t fuck with T-Swift past 2015, but you give me still-kind-of-county-but-not-really-and-also-kind-of-hot-but-not-really T-Swift, and it’s stuck in my head all day. Taylor was a vessel of God in the studio recording I Knew You Were Trouble, and that’s a hill I will die on.
6. Morning Sex
The conversion rate for stabbing the person next to me with my boner at 8:30 AM is around thirty percent. Having morning sex is like when the cafeteria in middle school served breakfast for lunch: could I handle it every day? Absolutely not. I can only show up late to the TFM morning meeting so many times. But because it’s so rare, it’s an absolute privilege.
7. Conspiracy Theories
Sue me. Hungover on a Sunday post-PornHub revival, nothing hits like getting real weird on YouTube. I’m not talking Denver Airport or JFK Assassination. That’s JV stuff. I’m talking about the type of shit that has me on FBI watchlists. I’ll go two and a half hours deep trying to learn people’s takes on why Columbine didn’t actually happen. Sometimes I get weird with it to the point where I come out of this hazy state, realizing I’ve been on Reddit for the past forty-five minutes and feel guilty. Guilty enough where I force myself to watch Friends just to throw off the Russian guy farming my data. PS: I fucking hate Friends.
8. Consuming Tik Tok Beef
Yup. I know what word you’re thinking in your head right now; I just can’t type it. I don’t actually consume the content made by any of the numerous Hollywood Tik Tokers. HOWEVER, if Barstool gets me sucked into doing twenty-five minutes of research trying to learn the names of people born post 9/11, I can’t control myself. I’m too fucking curious. Sidenote: I’ve come full circle on Bryce Hall. I think I’m starting to like him because everybody else hates him. In my opinion, Bryce Hall making millions of dollars off of thirteen-year-old girls is less sad than Cody Ko making millions of dollars shitting on Bryce Hall for FIFTEEN-year-old girls.
