Avoid being a d-bag forever

I live in Montana, and as such we have periodic large hills and mountain passes along the littering of interstates and highways we have in our state. Now, driving on passes is pretty simple, but for those people in the world who have never dealt with driving in the mountains and are visiting Montana they can be a little scary and uncomfortable causing said people to be intolerable douches. Making it over a mountain pass when the weather's good goes thusly.

1. About a half mile to a mile before the main part of the pass slam the gas to give yourself a decent head start.

2. Pass any bitches that will slow you down and cause you to lose your momentum.

3. The end.

This system works great under most circumstances. There are a couple of rules to driving a mountain pass, however, that are self explanatory enough that even most of the reasonable tourists figure out within a span of 5 seconds.

1. Don't cockblock cars moving faster than you by getting into the hammer lane in front of them with your slow ass on the way up the hill.

2. Don't pass Semi's that are trying to pass slower semis on the way down the big hills. Semis are way harder to slow down than small cars so it's rude and dangerous. Angels cry when you do this.

I usually have a lot of sympathy for truck drivers when it comes to passes. Passes are sucky for them even in the best of driving conditions so I forgive a lot of their bullshit when it comes to this. Usually they have to trudge up the hill with their flashers on then hang on for dear life on the way down. This is just the way it works. What I refuse to tolerate is when a semi breaks the cardinal rule. Don't cockblock cars moving faster than you on the way up the hill.

It's a pretty obvious rule of the road that you let people driving faster than you pass before you pass if at all possible. This should be doubly fucking obvious on a patch of difficult road. Truck drivers do this every day of their lives as a profession so when they're not only breaking a cardinal driving rule but on a treacherous piece of road it's totally unacceptable. It isn't particularly difficult to understand, but I will lay it out for those drivers who may have trouble with the idea.

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To avoid being a d-bag forever, please direct any questions to the comment section below.

p.s. my mother has been talking incessantly for the past 3 hours so concentration when writing this has been about zero. I will also blame this for any unfunny that you have been subjected to for the duration of this post :)

Worst idea ever: Number 1

The Bald Mullet


NEVER. DO THIS.


This public service announcement has been brought to you by the ruler of the internet. Friends don't let friends have a bald mullet.

In which I risk my entire reputation for a band aid

I've already received inquiries along the lines of "What is this blog going to be about?". I thought about that myself for a while last night when I was contemplating writing a blog when a voice inside of my head said "Bitch like I need a subject". So that's the subject of this blog. There is so much completely blow-you-out-of-the-fucking-water rad shit that goes through my head in just one day. Who wouldn't want to hear about my life and my thoughts? Nobody, that's who. Because you bitches are smart. Hell, I could probably do a series about the many injuries that have been inflicted on me due to sheer dumbassery and it would be like an internet Picasso. Holy shit. Picasso isn't considered a word in spellcheck. What the fuck is that all about? He's an artistic legend, you idiot bastards. Get on it.

So anyway just yesterday I was helping my Aunt paint her garage, but it's not like normal painting. She and her husband decided to use rough pine to side their garage. Rough pine, for those of you who don't know, looks like this.


So rather than just calmly rolling paint onto a smooth wall you have to scrub that shit down in there, and trust me. No matter how much paint you use and how you try to cram it down there into those tiny slivery holes it is never enough. This shit takes five minutes per square inch to paint which causes all parties to paint in this manner.


Take that and imagine what it's like when you're on a ladder 67665765675765 feet in the air trying to paint around a fucking awning and you have a broke-ass 23 year old who isn't thinking about obstacles on the ground. I don't know if you know what a core sample is, but it's basically a jagged-ass cylinder of stone that people usually have laying for no fucking conceivable reason other than to be treacherous. I step off the ladder soaked in sweat, dripping like spongebob and suddenly feel a pain like 800 searing hot cleavers shoot up my leg as my foot makes contact with raw, sharp stone and I get a gash a good 3/4 inch deep in the arch of my foot. It can never be the ball or heel. It always has to be the tender newborn skin of the arch.

HOWLING in pain I fall to the ground and grab my foot like a mature adult of 3 years old to examine the source of the pain. Somehow even with all this pain this giant grand canyon on my foot isn't bleeding. It has just barely reached the depth of my foot callus. So I limp pathetically into the house, not even bleeding but hopping like I got my kneecap shot off in 'Nam looking for a band aid because it didn't matter to me whether or not I was bleeding. I did not give a shit. Band aid's have special magic powers. You could get your arm ripped off by a shark and a band aid would make it feel better.

So after looking like the biggest pansy ever spawned on Earth getting a band aid for an owie that wasn't even slightly trickling blood, I said "Fuck this" and went home to play Sorority Life for the rest of the day. The end.

My blogging track record

I think that anyone who has used the internet to a large degree in their life has stopped at some point and thought "Hey. I'm clever, funny, attractive, and all around cool. Why wouldn't someone want to hear all about the shit that I think about?" and has tried to start a blog. This is just a side-effect of being on the internet. There's no shame in it, and no avoiding it. I, however, have enough pride and arrogance in me that I have tried and failed to start three blogs if you count this attempt, 1 tumblr, and one video blog on youtube. I'm apparently so thrillingly funny and interesting, that despite my apparent inability to focus on a blog long enough to get to my one month mark, I try and try again, hoping that one day I will become a responsible enough internet adult to update with any consistency.

I will now proceed to honor my previous blogging experiences with honorable mentions before we disembark on our journey into the land of lolbitches.

1. Unsolicited Feedback #1
I came up with the idea for a magazine column for another, excessively dorky creative venture of mine, and I liked it. I thought "I could write this column. It would be absolutely, break your face in half hilarious. I'm doing it"
I got about 2 entries in and lost interest. See that promise for a new entry? It will never be kept. My loyal followers will be waiting forever for that post.


2. The Cowpatty Chronicles
Having failed at my attempt to write a humorous and somewhat educational blog I decided, after reading the daily coyote blog that I would like to do a photographic adventure in adopting shelter animals and the trials and rewards that come with it. I got much farther in this venture than the first, but somewhere along the line I stopped wanting to yap about my pets.


3. Lolbitches Tumblr
This is actually technically still in operation, but it's for my own joy and happiness only. I have no theme and post only things that I like. Anyone who doesn't like this may choose not to watch it, but this would be a mistake since it is the epitome of everything in this world that is funny and awesome.


4. Unsolicited Feedback the Vlog
This was my most successful venture into the blogging hobby. I had several episodes, all that got quite a few views and mostly positive feedback. I deterred from my intended topic, but everyone seemed to enjoy it still so I didn't mind. I talked about everything and one day told funny stories about being in awkward bathroom situations. My viewing numbers rose dramatically. At first I thought that people were just enjoying my videos. People thought I was funny! My heart leapt, fluttered, and danced in girlish glee at the thought. I spread my arms and cried to the heavens "They LIKE me! They REALLY like me!". That's when it happened. From the dark, wretched bowels of youtube they made themselves known. Comments and messages started flooding in requesting that I video myself defecating and post it for the pleasure of my new poop fetish viewers.

I balked. There are a lot of things I can take. I can take flaming, I can take the hate, but when I get people incessantly asking me to crap on screen for them to whack off to I draw a line. I abandoned my rise into Youtube fame in exchange for licking my emotional wounds.


5. Lolbitches THE BLOG
And now here we are. We stand in the echoing hallways of a brand new, shiny blog. It still smells like new paint and loneliness, but soon it will reek of awesome and unicorn magic. Are you excited? You damn well better be.