Category: Essays & Bad Ideas

An assortment of ramblings; some thoughtful, some thoughtless

Did you ever wish you could filter your Tumblr activity feed on your iPad? Are you, for example, a chick with big, dumb tits and thousands of followers, who would like to be able to look at a blog activity report without wading through 1,001 Likes from uninteresting randoms, but have no idea how to do anything for yourself? Or are you, like me, simply lazy enough not to think of this a year ago? Congratulations!

  1. Go to the App Store and buy 1Blocker (pictured above) or any other content blocker that allows user-defined rules.
  2. Launch your content blocker, go to Hide Page Elements (or equivalent), and create a new rule like the one in the screenshot. Make sure the blocker is activated before you leave the app.
  3. Jump into Safari, sign in to Tumblr, and navigate to your activity feed. All the Likes will be filtered out, leaving only Follows, Replies, Reblogs, etc.
  4. To bring the Likes back temporarily, press and hold Safari’s refresh button, and select Reload Without Content Blockers. To bring them back permanently, disable the rule.

Personally, I now hate life slightly less.

(The Tom Haverford in me wants to launch an IT support line for girls who like being told to shut up and follow directions. Our motto? That’s right, bitch. I said to turn it off, and then turn… it… back… on.)

Pussy Grabbing Old Man Shit: Trump

Once upon a time, while watching a nature documentary, I was struck by the sight of a wolf pack hunting caribou. Running at full speed, the pack seamlessly split in two, flanking the herd and ensuring the evening’s feast. The way they coordinated their work demonstrated to me the primitive, nasty intelligence built into the prey drive… at will and without a word, these wild animals organized into a highly efficient, motivated, and ruthless team.

Meanwhile, a link or two up the food chain…

Everyone has been focused on “grab her by the pussy,” and understandably so. Trump’s persona is explicitly and proudly predatory, giving the world little reason to grant him the benefit of the “I was just bullshitting" doubt. He’s made a career out of convincing us all that he’s exactly that kind of guy.

But to me, that’s why it’s barely even news. By 2005, the world had a pretty good idea of what Donald Trump was, and all the world did about it was find a way to recycle his rose-scented, gold-encrusted dumpster fire of a life into a disturbingly robust revenue stream. We all knew what he thought every time he looked at a woman, because he delighted in telling us. Nothing he said on that tape should be a surprise.

Billy Bush, on the other hand? Fuck that motherfucker.

“How about a little hug for The Donald?” Are you kidding me? We’ll probably never know if Trump was idly boasting or wistfully reminiscing, but we know for a fact that seconds after being told about Trump’s self-proclaimed proclivities, Bush decided it would be fun to goad the moldering and sexually aggressive Cheeto into groping a fellow industry professional on-camera, knowing she’d be forced to deal “gracefully” with whatever Trump might do. Unprompted and without missing a beat, he served her up.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

To every man who has looked into a camera over the last week and asserted that he has never heard “locker room talk” like that, I call Shenanigans. You’re either lying, or impressively sheltered. Either way, your perspective in irrelevant.

Personally, I’ve heard far worse. For example, I was twenty when the new guy working in a warehouse with me casually and cheerfully confessed to fucking pubescent prostitutes in Thailand. Bear in mind, this wasn’t the culmination of a series of escalating boasts about our sexual histories; we’d just met, it was hot as hell, the boxes just kept coming down the line, and I was not in the mood for chit-chat. It was more like “Hey, I’m so-and-so, I just got out of the Navy, want to know what it was like? Let me tell you a story…”

As I often do, I handled the whole thing poorly. Instead of jumping his shit or walking away, I just suggested he keep that kind of thing to himself, for his own sake. I’m still not sure what I could have/should have done as a clueless kid on a summer day in the early ‘90s, but essentially counseling him to avoid detection probably wasn’t it.

With that said, y’know what I absolutely didn’t do? I didn’t listen to his story, cheer him on, and then immediately direct him toward a nearby twelve year-old, just to see what would happen. Because that would have made me a complete scumbag.

Right, Bushy? Right?

I truly resent that this political cycle has forced me to learn the definition of “pussy bow”. I’m pretty sure some useful fact was pushed out of my brain to make room for that nonsense.

Since it’s now clear that the US presidency is open to any misanthropic weirdo with a core constituency of broken, backwards fuck-ups who don’t understand how life works, I’m thinking about running myself in 2020. I’m quite confident that I could pull in the Angry White Male vote without resorting to racial division, international antagonism, or putting my name on any buildings.

(I also have thick, natural hair and completely normal-sized hands, which has to be worth, what, 3% in the polls?)

First plank of my platform? *Elder & Veteran Care.* Did you fight for your country, while restraining yourself from plundering the enemy pulchritude? Well then, good sir, I can only ask why some cute American girl isn’t sucking your fucking dick right now? Have you fallen on hard times, as the economic gamesmanship of the monied elites destroyed your hard-earned savings and deprived your children of even a modest inheritance? Well then, my friend, I’d suggest that nothing eases the sting like being balls-deep in a slobbering twenty year old.

And that’s exactly what I want to give our heroes and seniors in their journey through this world of financial and existential uncertainty: the sense of security and optimism you can only get by regularly dumping your best war- and/or artery-hardened swimmers down some corn-fed coed’s esophageal waterslide.

So how will this work?

Some might suggest I simply fence in Florida and declare it a Big Titted Game Preserve. But I’m opposed to that because it would force travel on prospective beneficiaries, and –let’s be honest here– without a constant influx of new talent, Florida’s female population would be wiped out by the inherent dangers of their culture and environment: alcohol poisoning, skin cancer, bugs the size of a baby’s fist, guys with big trucks and beer bongs, and the local alligator population’s No Second Chances Policy regarding any and all attempts to “pet the scaly puppies.”

I’m confident there’s a better way.

Which brings me to my second plank: Education & Public Service. Within the first ninety days of my administration, I will bring before Congress the Sending Sluts to School Act of 2021, which will provide unprecedented opportunities for young women to give back to their communities, broaden their horizons, and learn how to swallow absolutely anything. Through the establishment of what I like to call “The Peace Whorps”, our STEM programs will be full of enthusiastic, sexually experienced female students who have earned free rides by giving them.

This crazy iMessage app lets you prank friends by putting words in their mouth

This crazy iMessage app lets you prank friends by putting words in their mouth

TL;DR: Some genius has pioneered gaslighting via instant messaging. Making an iMessage sticker pack is relatively trivial, so using his technique, it wouldn’t take much to go through old conversations with someone and quietly edit things so it reads completely differently than she remembers.

That’s 2016, girls. Your minds are not your own.

Work In Progress

I’m trying to relocate my Tumblr sea legs, so you’re going to see lots of quippy garbage and grossly inappropriate flirting with pretty girls young enough to be my daughters, from now until TBD. If this displeases you, well, thou hast my leave to go to France, Laertes.

Also, if you’re one of said pretty girls and I write something that icks you out, let me know and I’ll nuke it. I’m trying to fix me, not fuck with you.

A Guide To Cranky Old Men #1

(I realize that many of you are emotional dunces, and don’t have the first clue how to talk coherently with any adult male, much less one who scares you a little. So I figured I’d start compiling a series of helpful tips that will make our interactions as painless as possible. For me.)

TIP : If you want to talk to me and you’re a cunt, just say so. Otherwise, I’m going to waste my time politely conversing with you like you’re a person or something, and hell, that benefits no one. I don’t want to inflict the more… presumptuous aspects of my personality on innocent strangers, so that means you need to tell me when you’re not.

Innocent, I mean. It’s kind of a given that you’re strange.