2017 Reading List

Our culture is one of needless remakes, sequels, and the unabashed destruction of the classics. Luckily, literature has been less affected by this trend than, say, the film industry. Sure, there are the “Pride, Prejudice and Zombies” of the world, but for the most part, the classics have remained unscathed.

But what if they weren’t? What if we took classic works of literature and modernized them? What if we took Shakespeare and set it in modern day New York and had Claire Danes and Leo Di– Oh, wait, that did happen. Well, how about we take these classic literary works and modernize the shit out of them? Here are some quick synopses of the books featured in the 2017 Modern-Classic Reading List:

Cash Me Twenty-Two –by Joseph Heller:

Danielle Bregoli is a celebrity. She’s acquired fortune and fame for having a catchphrase and a tenuous grasp of the English language. She has rocketed into the spotlight by being hated by every self-respecting person in society.

But, therein lies the problem. For, as our hate for Danielle Bregoli grows, so does her stardom. We could stop talking about her, but as she tumbles from her celebrity status, we lose our scapegoat and start to actually feel bad for her.

As for Danielle, she could learn how to read and appropriately socialize and not be so hated, but by doing so, she would lose her fame and subsequently the source of income she would need to pay for the caliber tutor she needed to raise her sub-moronic IQ in the first place.

The catch is that you’re damned if you, damned if you don’t. There’s always a catch. Cash-22.


Brunch at Tiffany’s –by Truman Capote:

It’s the fall of 2017 and Holly is a wildly opinionated, jobless, young-adult. She contributes nothing to society but maintains enormous self-esteem by hanging out with wealthy friends who she posts yoga pictures with on Instagram. In one sense, she is a free-spirited modern woman with high-minded ambition and expensive taste. In another, much more real sense, she is a prostitute.


The DM of the Wild –by Jack London:

This short adventure novel focuses on the Instagram account of Buck. A massive St. Bernard who lives in a tiny apartment in Santa Clara. Buck lives happily as a bandana and sweater wearing “Furbaby”, with his owner, Judge.

Or, at least that’s what it says on Instagram. IRL, he is cramped and is left alone in the apartment for 9 hours a day waiting to be walked to a dog-friendly rooftop bar where servers offer him gluten-free-organically-raised dog treats.

Our adventure finally begins when Judge realizes the only thing missing in his beloved pet’s life–or more accurately, his pet’s Instagram account­– is a wild and primal sense of adventure. Or, at least, the appearance of it.


Of Mice and Non-Gender-Specific-Pronouns –by John Steinbeck:

The economy is in shambles and displaced from their job as hole-in-the-wall-coffee-shop baristas, George and Lennie set out to follow their dreams. George aspires to be a social media influencer who works for himself and works from home. Lennie aspires to live with George and take care of an eclectic litter of rescue animals.

Upon arriving in San Francisco, George and Lennie realize that it’s hard to travel all the time with no money once their parents stopped paying for everything. So, the two seek employment at a different hole-in-the-wall-coffee-shop. Their boss, Curley, is hard on them and continually accuses them of stealing nitro-coffee and putting too many slices of avocado on the avocado toast.

Eventually, Curley’s wife comes to visit and Lennie greets her with a gender-assuming, colloquial greeting. Curley’s wife is then permanently and irreparably damaged, emotionally. The two are forced to flee San Francisco, and eventually, George becomes a cop and kills Lenny who was actually black this whole time.


The Scarlet Emoji –by Nathaniel Hawthorne:

Hester is totes preggers and she doesn’t know who the baby daddy is. She suspects it happened one Thursday when she totally blacked-out on prosecco. She woke up alone, with a text from a rando’ that read nothing but an emoticon of a peach and a scarlet “100%”. The struggle that morning had been particularly real.

After finding out her food-baby wasn’t actually a food-baby, she has shade thrown on her by her fam, and by her peers, who call her a THOT on social media. There are, however, a few people who know that she is just a badass bitch who doesn’t need to follow the same path as everyone else. They believe that her treatment is straight savage and think the other people should apologize, so they troll everyone until everyone gets the flu from guilt.

Or, maybe, from thinking that vaccinations cause autism.


As I Lay Like Literally Dying –by William Faulkner:

This classic novel follows the unnecessarily-long, incoherently-rambling, social media accounts, of which Addie–an angst-filled 18-year-old girl–has 15 of.

The novel begins as Addie considers deleting her social media presence after not getting enough engagement on a particularly important post which quoted Marilyn Monroe (“just a basic bia like her”). Her internal monologue, as she makes this important decision, is being live-tweeted, and is well written, if she does say so herself.

After coming to the decision that she would make a pledge to take a temporary hiatus from only snapchat, she witnesses her dog get its snout caught in a red plastic cup, causing her to immediately go back on her pledge. It’s clear to Addie that something so amazing– so profoundly earth shattering– as that, could only be captioned with one thing.

Literally dying.


Alice’s Adventures in Coachelland –by Lewis Carroll:

Alice is a typical suburban girl. She smoked pot once or twice in high school and did a shot of UV blue with the football captain once. Then, she goes off to college and decides that maybe doing hardcore designer drugs is her next logical step.

One afternoon, while she’s studying lazily in the quad with her roommate, she meets a scrubby looking guy in a white t-shirt. The guy says his name is Rabbit, and he sells her hardcore designer drugs out of a pocket watch. She then follows him to the desert where she finds a magical land filled with people dressed as animals, painted with glow stick juice, all listening to intolerable, deafeningly loud, techno music. She then befriends a man wearing a peculiar hat, who gives her more drugs.

Alice eventually wanders away from the crowd, into the desert. There, she is picked up by the cops. She tells them that she is totally sober, but the cop tells her she is “More than a mile high.” She is then arrested for public intoxication and banned from Coachelland forever.

When she gets back, no one believes that she was in such a magical place. They say they believe her, but she knows they don’t. So, Alice shows them an egregious number of pictures that she took while she was there, but they still just, like, had to be there.






An unjust world

Have you ever heard the expression, “If life is fair, then why do roses have thorns?”

Well, I have. I also think that as far as the injustices go, roses having thorns is pretty unimportant.

First of all, roses don’t have thorns because life is unfair. They have thorns because the first roses with thorns were protected from predators which allowed them to survive and pass on the “thorn trait” to the next generation of roses, who passed it on to the next, and blah, blah, evolutionary, blah.

But don’t get me wrong. I believe the world we live in has more than its fair share of things that are unjust, unfair or just plain wrong. Here’s a list of some true injustices:

  • Separating darks and lights while doing  laundry is racist and promotes segregation and unfair biases.
  • People are totally diggin’ sand all day and night, but then, when people finally take sand home with them, they treat it like garbage.
  • Leaving a little bit of milk in the carton so that the next person can have some is a selfless act of generosity and yet it is never appreciated.
  • A girl can say “I only like tall guys” and that’s cool. But, if I say “I only fly first class” then I go broke.
  • We have no problem giving people, who already have food, a bite of our food. But when an ant, who has no food, wants a bite we fucking murder them.
  •  Just because bees are an essential part of the environment, we have to protect them, even though they are dicks, and they are willing to kill themselves in order to inflict a small amount of pain on innocent people. Yet, 10,000 years ago, there were peaceful elephant-sized sloths and humans hunted them to extinction without anyone saying ‘boo’.
  • We have the right to bear arms but not the right to arm bears… Although, on second thought, maybe that’s a good thing.
  • People always say, we should leave a better world for the generations after us, but the people before us managed to evolve from primates. Then they let themselves go generation, after generation, and now primates can beat the shit out of humans, are way better at climbing trees, and have way less debt from student loans.
  • Gangsters can wear Loony Toons shirts and look cool and I can’t even dress nice and look cool.
  • Weathermen, politicians and Siri are allowed to constantly be wrong and answer questions that are different than the one that was asked, and no one really thinks twice. But, if I do that, even only 1/4th of the time,  I get a C on my exam or get fired from my job.
  • You need a license to drive a car, but you don’t need a license to tell people that spiders can crawl in your mouth when you are sleeping.

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

Throughout human history, there have been countless cases of a small minority of people ruining something great for everyone else. We see it all the time, but there was one recent example that compelled me to write this post. It came about when a full-size, one ton pickup truck pulled up next to me at a red light. The truck was comically large and probably had enough towing power to transport the Statue of Liberty. A passenger in my car, who shall remain nameless, said, in reference to the truck, “He must be compensating for something.”

We all laughed at this comment, but it sort of rubbed me the wrong way. Just because this man drove an enormous pick up truck did not mean that he was using it to compensate for his lack of size or girth in other areas of his life. Maybe he just needed it for work, or he rented it to move some furniture into his new house. I felt bad for the man, and any other large pickup truck drivers who have been the subject of presumptuous claims about the correlation between automobile size and shortcomings regarding male genitalia. Sure there have probably been more than a few cases of Ford F-350 drivers who were anything but well-endowed using the trucks as a method of compensation, but does that mean that they should ruin it for everyone else?

This got me thinking about some other examples of perfectly good products and activities that we can’t utilize because people get the wrong idea. Allow me to share a few that I came up with…

Ski Masks

The ski mask is a prime example of a practical invention being ruined by a few bad-apples. Growing up in Minnesota, I learned that cold weather is not something to be taken lightly. In December and January, THIS YEAR, I must have heard about 30 state-wide announcements warning citizens that if our skin is exposed outdoors for more than 14 seconds, the only way to save our lives is to immediately amputate our entire faces. Okay, kind of an exaggeration, but still, the winters here ain’t no joke. 

Personally, I trudge through the streets of St. Paul wearing a winter hat, a jacket, a sweatshirt, gloves, glove-liners, long underwear, the warmest jeans I can find, wool socks and winter boots. And guess what America? I am still freezing my face off. Not a figure of speech, literally freezing my face off. Now, I know what you are thinking. Why don’t you just wear something that covers your face, like a ski mask? Well maybe it’s because, in this day and age, anyone who wears a ski mask is immediately presumed to be in the process of committing some type of heinous crime. 

Think about it. When is the last time you saw a person wearing a full-face ski mask and they weren’t trying to rob, rape or murder somebody? I would love to have been able to wear one when I walked to class this winter, but unfortunately, the full-face ski mask’s reputation for protecting my skin from the violent Minnesota weather is preceded only by its reputation for effectively concealing my identity while I hold up a Super America. Don’t believe me? Wear a ski mask to work tomorrow and see what happens.

It is truly unfair that because of the choice of wardrobe in a few dozen bank robberies, I am faced with the choice of being profiled as a criminal, or stage-5 frostbite. I say during this winter’s polar vortex, we take back the full-face ski mask. Who’s with me, Midwest?


Conversion Vans

Conversion Vans are large vans, often used for commercial distribution, but are sometimes used by the public for standard transportation. The advantages of conversion vans include durability, seating capacity and ample room for cargo. You know them as rape vans. That’s all I am going to say about that. 



Clowns are yet another example of a nice idea, gone horribly, horribly wrong. Dating all the way back to 2400 BC, clowning was done for the simple purpose of introducing some humor and joy to the otherwise miserable medieval existence. They were invented to take peoples’ minds of the fact that they were poor, sick, starving, and didn’t have 4G wireless internet access. Their sole intention was to spread joy, but somewhere along the way, they changed from a source of comedy to giving off sort of a psychopathic serial killer/ nightmarish-evil-monster cannibal  type of vibe. I blame Stephen King. 



For those of you who do not know what Chatroulette is, it is a website that pairs two users at random for a webcam-based conversation. At any point in the conversation either user can simply click “next” and will be paired with another user at random. I like to belief the purpose of the website was to overcome geographical or socioeconomic barriers and create friendships and love connections that would otherwise be unlikely. The random nature of the video chats allowed for people from all woks of life to converse with anyone else, anywhere, at any time… It was beautiful. 

But, like most websites that are open to the public, Chatroulette was extremely susceptible to online sexual perversion. What was once an vitual melting pot of cultural diversity and social exploration, is now populated almost exclusively by deviant masturbaters. The result of this change in user base is that now, if you go on chatroulette, everyone automatically assumes you are a big weirdo.



Chainsaws, at least within the city limits, have picked up somewhat of a bad rep. The innovation of chainsaws is undeniable. The power and functionality of a chainsaw deserves a profound respect, even from those who know almost nothing about them (like me). I am sure that chainsaws have revolutionized the construction and the Lumberjacking industry (I don’t actually know if lumberjacking is the name for that industry,I am a naive city kid, but you get it.). The problem is that I unintentionally overlook the marvelous engineering and innovation that went into the invention of chainsaws, and immediately jump to murder weapon. This may just be a personal issue for me, but when I happen upon a person using a chainsaw, no matter the context, I assess the situation using the following check-down process of elimination. 

1.  Is this a serial killer?   2. Is this a crazy redneck?   3. Is this a crazy redneck serial killer?   4. Am I in Texas, and is this a chainsaw massacre?   5. Something about Tony Montana from Scarface.   6.Is this a law-abiding, tax-paying American, who is simply doing some type of construction or yard work? 

See, the problem here is that despite all the good that chainsaws have done for the world, it only took a few bad apples to force me to reason passed five, dangerous, probably irrational, alternatives, before assuming the chainsaw user is just a regular, non-murderer, type person.


GTA Could Save Your Child

G.T.A., for those of you unaware, is an acronym for Grand Theft Auto. After reading the title of this post, you may be a little confused because in the real world, Grand Theft is the name for the penalty associated with the theft of property valued over $1,000. Grand Theft Auto then naturally means the theft of a vehicle and is usually a felony charge. You may be confused as to why committing a felony would be in any way beneficial to anyone. But that’s not the point of this post. I am not suggesting that stealing a car valued over $1,000 dollars could save your child… Maybe it could, but I’ll save that discussion for my future murder mystery novel.

The Grand Theft Auto I am referring to is the video game. Not the first two, because they had terrible graphics and the camera angle was from the perspective of The Great Leonopteryx (the big-ass flying bird monster from James Cameron’s Avatar), but the rest of them.


The third installment in the Grand Theft Auto series was of the most controversial video game releases since Duke Nukem. The game begins with a mute protagonist who had recently escaped from prison, and upon his freedom starts doing odd jobs around Liberty City (a fictional doppelganger of NYC). These odd jobs start out as driving scantily clad women to their minimum wage jobs, but eventually escalate into shooting it out with The National Guard in the streets of Manhattan… as odd jobs so often do.

From GTA3, to GTA Vice City, to GTA San Andreas, to GTA4 and finally to GTA5, the games have received a significant amount of disparagement from the concerned mothers of America. They say that the game encourages violent, misogynistic, racist, discriminatory, and otherwise frowned-upon behavior, but I whole-heartedly disagree.

All the game does is put the player into a virtual world where they can do pretty much whatever they want. Sure, you could pick up female escorts and then proceed to murder them in cold blood, and you are welcome to rob banks and kill all the witnesses with a grenade launcher, heck, you may even be tempted to boost a few cars or water-board a guy or two, but the point is that no one is forcing you.

Apparently all these concerned mothers forgot about the other options and life choices available to Grand Theft Auto players. You could use your playing time to make your character become a dedicated dog-owner. You can feed your dog and clean up after it and even walk it. For players like this, GTA5 is nothing more than a giga-pet with really really good graphics. I see nothing wrong with that. You can day trade in oil futures. An extremely lucrative activity to engage in. You can go on virtual shopping sprees. You can ride roller coasters, and play golf and drive jet-skis. You can even run around saving damsels in distress like some kind of vigilante… no one ever accused batman of corrupting their son. 

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All I have to say to the people who blame Grand Theft Auto (the game) for their child being an awful little miscreant is this:  The game did not corrupt your child, your child is just an asshole. If he thinks that driving like a maniac and stabbing old ladies in the game is the type of behavior that can one day translate into real life marketable job-skills, he is probably already doomed. Being able to separate a video game from reality should not be a challenge, and if it is, then maybe the kid has other issues.

Here’s how I see it: Grand Theft Auto could save your child.

As I said before, the game features the option to murder, steal, take the lord’s name in vein… whatever you wanna do, its your game. I see this as a safe outlet for us to blow off some steam. We’ve all been cut off by some jerk in a hummer, and some of us (myself included) may fantasize about jumping out of the car and cold-cocking the guy right in the moneymaker. Wouldn’t it be better if instead of assaulting a hummer-driver in the middle of the street, getting some undesired attention from the authorities, stealing an Apache Helicopter, and then going on a violent terroristic rampage through Los Angeles in real life, we could just curse under our breath, go home and fire up the PS3? I sure think so.

Maybe there would be less bullying, less hazing, and less school shootings. I myself can’t sleep until I have brushed my teeth, said my prayers, and murdered at least a few hundred pedestrians. Imagine if I had to perform my night-time ritual in the real world! Maybe Grand Theft Auto is just what America needs. Maybe instead of letting criminally insane high school freshman talk things out with their guidance councilors until they end up on the home page of CNN.com, we should just let them play a video game. I say instead of blaming the creators of Grand Theft Auto for our problems, we say, “Thank you, Rockstar Games. Thank you for making America a safer place.”

Patent Pending

With an impending graduation and no offer for a career-type-job with salary and benefits, my future remains uncertain and frankly, quite scary. However, recently I have made the decision to opt-out of a career of short-order cooking and “livin’ in a van down by the river” and decided to make my fortune the new-fashion way. Rather than work hard for my money, I will make millions of dollars from one or more of the following genius ideas:

Bottled Air

There is so much pollution in the air these days, especially in large urban areas, that it can be nearly impossible to get a breathe of fresh air. Well now, a clean and refreshing breathe is as easy as opening a bottle. Instead of breathing toxic air, like a poor person,  you can carry around your own personal bottle of fresh air. Whether you want the air from a crisp ocean breeze, a northern forest pine, or the wind from the top of a mountain, all you have to do is open up the top and breath in, and your lungs will be transported to a cabin in Northern Minnesota, a beach on the Almafi Coast, or a chair lift in the Swiss Alps. As a potential investor I can imagine you may be wondering, “why would anyone pay for air, when they can breath it for free?”  Well allow me to answer your question with a question, why would anyone pay for water when they can drink tap water for 1/100th of the cost? The answer is simple, because we are stupid Americans.


Rent-a-Ninja, Inc. 

This business model is simple really. Customer feels unsafe… customer rents a Ninja to protect them. Despite the fact that martial arts still exist, you rarely see ninjas in your day-to-day lives. I believe this to be because of a major job shortage for ninjas which left the vast majority of them unemployed. Rent-a-Ninja, Inc. will not only offer these unemployed ninjas a job, it will offer an effective security rental service to every day consumers. All you do is place an order for a ninja using our toll-free number (the Rent-a-Ninja mobile app is coming soon) explain the nature of your request, and a ninja will arrive at your location within the hour.

  • You are expecting a night time commute through The Bronx? There’s a ninja for that.
  • You drive a Mercedes Benz and you are afraid someone might break in? There’s a ninja for that.
  • You are getting picked on at your middle school? There’s a ninja for that. 
  • Your daughter and her friend were kidnapped in Europe and sold into white slavery? There’s a ninja for that. 
  • You are lonely and you just want someone to snuggle with? There’s a ninja for that. (Rent-a-Ninja does not support the use of services for the purpose of any illegal, immoral, romantic, sexual, or otherwise nefarious activity)


The App Closing App

Perhaps this is a problem that I alone face, but having my iPhone’s battery die 12 seconds after I unplug it is a reoccurring source of displeasure in my life. I had owned exclusively blackberries for about five years, so when I first got the iPhone, I was a virgin to the concept of Apps and Apple products in general. I loved the phone, but I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why it was dying so quickly, even when I was barely using it. Then, after raising my concern to my uncle, a long-time iPhone user, he took one look and explained to me that I have had 4,572 apps open since pretty much the first day. After calling me stupid, he then asked me why I had literally never closed any app I had opened, and how I could expect my phone to last all day when I have been running Apple Maps for 9 months strait. I responded to his questions in the following way. I had fully assumed that when I pressed the big button with the square, and whatever app I was using ceased to be visible on the screen, that meant that the app was closed. My assumption had clearly been wrong, and I learned that you have to click the big button with the square twice, and then you could go through and close all the apps you had opened. As useful as this app-closing revelation was, I still managed to forget to close the 4,572 apps and continue to do so today. So, without further adieu, I bring you this: The App Closing App. This app would be the only one you never close, and its only function will be actually closing an app when you click the big button with the frickin’ square on it. The result: longer battery life and a significant amount of dough in my pockets.



Whether you are a 9 year-old girl who fell off her bike, or a 215 pound Navy Seal who stubbed his toe on a guy he just killed, every once in awhile you bleed. While its okay for small children and woman-folk to cover their boo-boos with adhesive bandages, tough guys like you and me are ridiculed and emasculated when we use them. Quick riddle: How do you solve a major social injustice while you simultaneously invest in a sure-fire start up business? Answer: Mandaids. These adhesive bandages allow men to protect their open cuts and lacerations while avoiding the humiliation of  wearing a Dora the Explorer Band-aid. The outer, visible side of the bandage will have pictures of things like severely infected knife wounds and road rash, so that the injury appears much worse to any potential critics and the user can heal without any criticism.

Imagine, while making copies of your expense reports, you give yourself a deep and painful paper cut. If you use the band-aids at the office, your coworker, Chad, will call you a pussy and then pretend to call the waaahhmbulence and all of your other coworkers will laugh at you, after which you will spend the rest of the afternoon quietly weeping in the men’s room about both your paper cut, and your loss of masculinity. Pretty humiliating right?  Well this time, imagine you cover up your paper cut with a Mandaid. Instead of looking like a “pussy”, your finger will look like you got it caught in a table-saw. That douche-bag Chad and all of your other coworkers will think you are such a bad-ass  because you A) own a table saw and B) didn’t even need to cover up your wound when you mangled your finger in it. Problem solved.   “Mandaids. The first bandage for tough guys”


Vulgar Emojis

As great as Emojis undoubtedly are, sometimes you simply cannot find one that encapsulates the emotion you want to express. Vulgar Emojis would offer its users a couple more pages of emoticon options, however, these particular emoticons will be vulgar, offensive and generally inappropriate. Examples include: A middle finger emoticon, a Helen Keller emoticon, a decapitated horse emoticon, a Hitler emoticon, and various emoticons murdering each other in creative but violent ways.


World’s Least Safe Minivan

This idea might have a few potential set backs, but allow me to explain. The product itself is a minivan, for the sake of this pitch, visualize a Honda Odyssey, but instead of earning the 2014 Top Safety Pick+ from the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety, it is ranked as the most dangerous car on the road. This minivan will basically just fold after colliding with pretty much anything. It will feature chain-link airbags that deploy with the force of a right-hook from boxing legend Mike Tyson, as well as a 99% window tint on all six windows (inside and out). The minivan will offer no shoulder-belted seat belts, side-mirrors or anti-lock breaks. Trial research has reported reoccurring incidences that include, but are not limited to:

  • Hit a pot-hole: the entire axle falls.
  • Get rear-ended: the engine explodes while the doors automatically lock.
  • A bird poops on the windshield: the two rear tires pop.
  • Park for too long: Van turns on and accelerates without warning or anyone in the driver seat.
  • Turn sharply: Chain-link airbags deploy causing blunt-force trauma, closed head injury and sometimes death.

Although market trend reports have suggested a consumer preference toward high safety ratings, this minivan will feature a negative 2-star safety rating, earning it the title of Motor Trends’ 2014 death-trap of the year. Now again, as a potential investor you may be wondering, What kind moron would purchase a van like this?  The answer to your question is Moms with multiple children (commonly referred to as Soccer Moms), and the reason why can be chalked up to basic self-handicapping. If you are unfamiliar with this term, it is defined as the process by which people avoid effort in the hopes of keeping failure from hurting self-esteem. One common form of this is alcoholism. People who experience early success will sometimes turn to alcohol so that if they begin to fail, they will be able to blame their alcoholism, or conversely, if they succeed people will say, “wow! they were able to do all that, even when they were drunk the whole time.” Another example would be a golfer who uses sub-par clubs (pun intended). This way they can either lose because of the clubs or win despite the clubs. The reason that this would apply to the dangerous minivan, is that our marketing communications strategy would provide soccer moms with an opportunity to satisfy their “esteem needs” according to Maslows’s hierarchy of needs. The objective will be to subtly explain the minivan’s self-handicapping function as a method of satisfying a sense of esteem for our target market. To do this, we will use taglines like “it’s not the car its the driver”, “Cars don’t save people, people save people” “The best bowlers in the world don’t need bumpers”. The proud owners of our van will be able to brag to the other moms who need to drive cars with high safety ratings. They will be able to say that they are the safest drivers, because they get all the kids safely to practice despite driving a car with a subzero safety rating. The producer of this minivan will enjoy the low manufacturing cost, as well as capitalize on my extensive and practical knowledge of consumer behavior.


Selfie Hat 

All of your friends want to know what you are doing at all times, no matter how boring or private. Of course your friends need to know when you are working out, or when you are at the club, or even when you are performing mundane household chores. And what better way to show them what you’re doing, than with a picture of your face while you’re doing it? But how many times has this happened to you?: You are at work and you are beginning to feel the boredom setting in. Suddenly, you receive a photo of your friend and her cat’s face with the caption, “hanging out with my kitty”. Clearly your next move is to snap an up-close photo of yourself bashfully pouting and to attach a caption that reads, “ugh…stuck at work”.  The problem is, all of your coworkers will see you taking the picture, which is, in most settings, socially unacceptable. Selfie Hat offers a simple solution to being able to casually and inconspicuously take a selfie.  The Selfie Hat is exactly what it sounds like. It’s a hat thats brim features a small, backwards facing camera lens. The camera connects wirelessly to your smart phone, tablet or computer device, and allows you to take high-definition photos of your face, and share them with your devoted fans. (Available in a variety of styles.)


Despite their ingenuity, these seven ideas are only pending at the USPTO, but there is no doubt in my mind that when they come to their senses, I will be granted exclusive rights to use and sell all seven ideas under U.S. Federal Law.  In other words, although these ideas are clearly just an attempt at humor and to poke fun at how irrational consumers are, and obviously not serious suggestions, you should not try to steal them.

Dear Burglar

I hesitate to call you a burglar, simply for the fact that you did not actually burglarize me, well I guess in the strict, legal definition of the word “burglary” you did burglarize me, but you didn’t actually take anything so I will just call you an invader.

Dear Invader,

First of all, I would like to applaud your sharp eye for unlocked doors. Typically I am very diligent when it comes to locking my car door. This probably stems from a past experience where my car was burglarized in every sense of the word, but I can’t be too sure. I assume it was my remote key that is to blame for your invasion of my property, lately it has been under-performing and I have been forced to click the lock  and unlock button several times before my car responds. Regardless of where my habit of routine car locking came from, or why I failed to secure my vehicle last night, you managed to catch me the one time I slipped up. So, kudos to you.

The real question here is: why did you break into my car, empty out my backpack, rifle through my glove compartment, and remove my stereo deck/dashboard from its original place, but proceed to not steal any of it? This, I have been speculating on all morning, but I simply do not understand.

My first thought was that perhaps someone caught you in the act. This is definitely possible, because if I were breaking into someones car and got busted I would have also probably stopped. However, based on how thorough you were in your search for valuable items, I can only assume you left on your own terms. I mean you found the secret compartment that took me like three weeks to discover, so either you are an expert on the subject of 1997 Honda Cr-V’s, or you had a considerable amount of time to raid my car. I am going to assume the latter.

The problem now, is that your decision not to take anything becomes a complete mystery. Maybe you saw that I had a butter knife holding my glove compartment shut. This ghetto problem solution/brilliant display of resourcefulness would have indicated to you that I,(and I can only assume) like you, are in a sticky financial situation. Perhaps you empathized with me and had a change of heart mid-burgle. If that is the case, then thank you! I appreciate that you understood how much I needed my backpack, sunglasses, graphing calculator and stereo. In fact, I would like to buy you a beer and you and I can have a long discussion about graphing calculators and stereos, or maybe we can just joyfully reflect on what a funny word “burgle” is. I truly want to believe that you only half-robbed me because you had a fundamental change of heart during the course of your break in, the only problem is that I am kind of a cynical guy. In other words, I understand that you are the type of person who would break into a stranger’s car in the first place, which leads me to believe that you are a pile-of-shit. (sorry, the curse words may have been unwarranted)

If that is the case, and your decision not to rob me did not come from a place of empathy, then that leaves me with two options:

1) You had the full intention of robbing me, but after examining the contents of my car, you found nothing that you believed to be valuable or worth stealing. If so, I am deeply offended and I urge you to please reassess the monetary value of my belongings. Because unless you are one of the rare highbrow car burglars, I don’t understand why you would leave my graphing calculatorstereo, or sunglasses… I mean their Tommy Hilfiger for Christ’s sake.

2) You have been following me for weeks, maybe even months, and have discovered that I am a neat freak. This is the most disturbing possible motive for your half-burglary, not only because it means you have been stalking me, but because it means that you trashed the interior of my car for the sole purpose of terrorizing me. You knew that the mess you made would give me a considerable amount of anxiety, and would then force me to be late to class because I had to tidy it up a little bit before driving. This also means that if my suffering brought you some kind of happiness, then you are probably a maniac and you are also very likely to strike again. The question is, how?

Will you break into my room and reorganize my Harry Potter book collection so that it is not in numerical order?

Will you remove the batteries from my remotes and hide them?

Will you go into my text books and write believable, but incorrect answers and tips in the margins?

Will you switch my pillow covers so that I can’t tell which one is the comfy one until I put my head on it?

Will you displace one of the slats under my bed so that if I sit down too hard on my bed it will fall and my mattress will be lopsided?

I guess the purpose of my letter, Mr. Burglar… or sorry, Mr. Invader, is to get to know you a little better. I hope you write me back, and tell me all about you. I’d like to know so many things, like do you live in the area? Is burglary a full time job for you, or more of a hobby? Do you have kids? Do they burglarize cars? Do you believe in ghosts? Have you ever been in a fight? What’s your sign (in the zodiac/ astrology sense of the word)? Did your horoscope tell you to break into my car and not actually take anything? Do you also dislike gluten-free people? No rush and no pressure, all I want to do is try to better understand the events that transpired May 1st sometime between the hours of 12:00 and 7:45am. Just send me a letter, I’m sure you know the address.

Look forward to hearing from you.



Professional Crastination

If you are reading this, then I am sorry. This post will cover a random string of thoughts that will most likely lead you to believe I have Asperger’s. It is the stupidest thing I have ever written, but it is vastly superior to doing homework. Now that I got that off my chest, here is a list of things I would rather think about than my assignment… which is due tomorrow at 9:55 am:

  • How long could an average human being survive on a strict diet of Peeps and Four Loko?
  • Somewhere, be it in this dimension or another, there is a warehouse filled with missing socks and expired snapchats.
  • I wonder who the first person was to stand up in front of a crowd and just tell jokes. I also wonder why anyone came to the first stand-up comedy performance.
  • If walls could talk, they would probably tell a lot of people to wash their hands after using the toilet.
  • I bet Leonardo DiCaprio has never eaten at Tacobell.
  • Snorgasm– A word used to describe a disappointing sexual encounter. Your welcome English language.
  • If yoga pants survive the zombie apocalypse then it won’t be that bad.
  • If someone slips on an icy sidewalk and no one is there to laugh at them, is it still funny?
  • If Nikki Menage (or however you spell that) and Waka Flaka had a baby, then more people would be pro-choice.
  • Salmon – Verb. Vigorously slapping your hand back and forth between someones thighs, making a noise that sounds like what salmon sound like… I guess.
  • Two extremely underrated experiences are opening up a book to the correct page on the first try and double spacing an essay after you are finished writing it.
  • About 1% of Americans actually have Celiac Disease. Therefore, if you are in the other 99%, stop being gluten free, its super douchey.
  • My International Marketing Professor looks kind of like Larry David, but he is significantly less funny.
  • Golf and the tremendous 12 at Perkins are two things that I love, but also sometimes make me wish I were dead.
  • Ferbies.
  • I wish that I understood how airplanes work.
  • The fact that women who spend a lot of time together synchronize their menstrual cycles makes me think that magic is real.
  • If I could date a website I would date Netflix….. but I would totally cheat on it with Amazon sometimes.
  • If dodgeball was a high school sport, then I would have been on varsity. I will believe that until the day I die.
  • Girls always complain about how when men behave promiscuously they are held in high regard, but when women behave the same way they are called sluts. I personally think there exists a double standard that is far more unjust: the fact that when black people wear Loony Toons shirts they look cool, but when white people wear them they just look foolish.
  • Jack is the worst character on LOST.
  • The Hunger Games should actually exist and the tributes should be selected from a list of people who order at restaurants right before they are closed, and everyone involved with the shows Teen Mom and 16 and Pregnant.
  •  Why is there a “P” at the start of pneumonia? In fact, what jackass decided that’s how pneumonia should be spelled?
  • Staring at a blank wall is boring. But, when you introduce some homework to the equation, staring at a blank wall is practically like watching your favorite movie.
  • I don’t care what anyone says,  I have the same respect for Sandra Bullock that I have for Jar-Jar Binks.
  • I think fortune cookies taste terrible, but I eat them anyways because I want my future to be predicted by a prophecy… like Frodo or Neo from The Matrix.
  • I think that The Wolf of Wall Street should have won best picture, but only because 12 Years a Slave gave me a considerable amount of white guilt.
  • I don’t think I was ever truly ready to make the switch from Myspace to Facebook.


If you somehow made it to the end of that list, then you are probably somehow dumber than you were beforehand. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day… I know I wont…. because I will be doing homework.



Personality Quiz

The entire time I have been posting on this blog, all I have been doing is rambling on and on about myself. Seeing as how I am the 15th least interesting person on the planet, and in the interest of being a team-player, I have decided to write about you. I’m not going to write any stories about any one person in particular because A, that’s no fun and B, people get left out and its a mess. Instead, I will give you the opportunity to learn a little more about who you really are. After decades of social experiments and psychological research, I have compiled a list of open-ended, multiple-choice and would-you-rather personality quiz questions that will allow the quizee to truly reflect on what it is that makes them who they are. *Disclaimer: if any of the following questions offend you, then your personality probably sucks anyways and I recommend you toughen up for the real world.*

1. If you were a naughty word, which one would you be?


2. If you could whisper one sexually suggestive remark in Oprah Winfrey’s ear, without consequence, what would it be?


3. If kitchen appliances were self-aware and could talk, think, feel and love, which one would you date?


4. Would you rather hold hands with your celebrity crush, or win a $15 gift card to Applebees?


5. If you were toast would you:

A) be covered in Jelly?

B) be covered in Jam?

C) be used to make some type of sandwich?

D) be burnt because your toaster is offended by your answer to Question 3?


6. Would you rather eat a used tampon or a half-pound of human hair?


7.If you were a hotdog, what percentage beef would you be?


8. If you met actor Michael Peña would you address him using Tù, or the formal Usted?


9. Do the words “The Plaza” mean anything special to you?


10. If you were an item on the McDonald’s dollar menu, which one would you be?


11. Would you rather have two wooden peg-legs or have both your hands be replaced with hooks?


12. If you could rewrite the english dictionary how would you spell the word that is defined:

       Noun. “An opaque white or blueish-white liquid secreted by the mammary glands of female mammals, serving for the nourishment of their young”

A) Malk

B) Milk

C) Melk


13. *For men* Would you rather have an extra nose where your penis is supposed to be, or an extra penis where your nose is supposed to be?


13. *For women* Would you rather date a guy who had an extra nose where his penis is supposed to be, or an extra penis where is nose is supposed to be?


14. Would you rather find out that your spouse of 20 years was a terrorist, or find out that he/she was a pedophile?


15. Have you ever referred to your relationship status as “between girlfriends/boyfriends”? 


 To Check out what your answers mean, follow the link   http://wp.me/P488Ce-i9



Poking Holes In Common Idioms

It is what it is.”

Not only is this completely redundant, but it also makes you sound as dumb as you are stupid.

You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

I personally have eaten almost every cake that I have had. I’m not really sure what else you do with a cake… unless you’re that weird cake farts lady. Side note: if you haven’t seen that video, you should, it’s totally gross.

Make sure to stop and smell the roses.”

I try not to do this, A) because I really don’t see roses growing on the side of the road, at least on my regular walking paths and B) because you might be late for something that’s actually important.

“The pen is mightier than the sword.”

Yeah, Ghenghis Khan raped and pillaged half a continent and created the Mongol Empire… with a pen.

 “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”

That just all depends on the kind of bird in question. A crow in the hand is worth nothing, and two crows in the bush is also worth nothing. An iPhone with Flappy-bird on it in the hand is worth a butt-load on ebay. Two iPhones with Flappy-bird in the bush is worth two buttloads on ebay… I mean they are sitting in a bush so they are pretty much free for the taking.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Unless the cover has a an Oprah book club sticker on it… then judge away my friend.

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

Well that settles it… the egg came first.

The Four Stages of Taco Bell

Stage One- Reasoning

During this stage you have realized that you as a consumer have a need and you have identified that need as hunger. You are searching for viable options, maybe make a snack at home, maybe wait  until the morning… or maybe hit the drive-thru at your nearest Taco Bell. Typically if you have even considered the Taco bell option, you have more than likely been abusing some controlled substances or your mind has been altered in some kind of way. Whatever the cause, something is hindering your ability to evaluate your options in a reasonable or rational way. You are likely in the car on the way home from somewhere, and you are likely not alone. Normally you would consider things like health benefits, your financial state, or even just what time it is, but then someone in the car utters the fateful words, “Should we swing by taco bell?” 

Stage Two- Submission

 Even if by some strange sequence of events you are in any state of mind to be making a decision, you have already reasoned with yourself and it is game over for you. You have  managed to convinced yourself that if you do not purchase and ingest 3,500 calories worth of beef, cheese, sour cream, dog meat and pink slime you will literally parish from starvation on the way home. Your car pulls up, you look at the menu, and it all just seems so tasty and so affordable. The vague adjectives the marketing geniuses use at taco bell HQ to describe the various items on the menu entice you. Beefy five layer burrito, cheesy gordita crunch, Doritos Loco taco, cheesy-crunchy-beefy-potatoey-crispy-chewy-zesty-grilled-stuffed-whatever-the-fuck, it all just sounds delicious. 

Stage Three- The Feast

You and your partners have somehow collectively ordered 27 burritos, 14 tacos, 5 Baja-blast Mountain dews and 9 miscellaneous food items that are unique to taco bell’s  menu. Your total bill is 8 bucks. Everyone instantly starts chowing down. The driver pulls over because it’s hard to eat Mexican food while driving and he squeezed the first beefy-five-layer-burrito too hard causing it to squirt cheese and sour cream on his jacket. There is no time to distribute each person’s order so there is one person holding the bags on his lap. Meat sweat drips out of your every pore as you shout to the bag-holder for more hot sauce and your next taco.With the car parked in some sketchy location, the occupants of your vehicle devour the meal until it is nothing but a sad memory. 

Stage Four- Guilt & Resentment 

Somehow you have gone from profound satisfaction, to a deep state of sadness and guilt. You have just eaten more than your fill of, what the FDA would not allow taco bell to call, beef. You feel the inside of your stomach judging you, as it attempts to digest what you so eagerly stuffed down your gullet. Although you have spent almost no money, you feel shame that you spent any amount of coin on this food, when you should have come home and eaten a PB&J. You ask yourself, “WHY?” and, “Who is to blame for this  madness?” but you have only yourself to blame. You might even swear off taco bell for life after the guilt and resentment you feel about what you have done, but you will be back….. they always come back.