The Smiler

Jack Nicholson did a great job at being the Joker, I believe it was combination of his smile and how he portrayed the psychopath, and frankly Jack Nicholson is just one scary looking bastard. Heath Ledger did a phenomenal job at taking the character to the next step with his morbid portrayal of the most sinister evil genius in all of comics, DC or Marvel. Yet, as I sit here in class today at look around at all the other students in class I realize that there is one person in my class that should have been giving the role just based on his creepy smile. I don’t know his name, nor does anyone else and we all just refer to him as either “that weird ass smiling guy” or just simply “the smiler”.

This guy has got to be the creepiest person I have ever come across in my total existence. We are all just minding our own business at our table in class, G-Doug, StrangeAss and SabC when I look to my left and the smiler is just staring at our teacher with his big grin rocking back and forth in his chair. Why he is smiling when we are learning about Marketing Report Writing is beyond me, but to each his own and I assume that this guy either has the world’s biggest boner or just really likes the subject, maybe both. So, I just burst out laughing because this guy is just too much, last week I caught him staring at the doorknob to get out of class for a good 10 minutes before he realized you had to turn it.

After laughing and pointing out to my friends that this creeper is just staring and smiling at our teacher, who we will call Macedonia, he does a really slow exorcist head turn and starts staring at me. Not good, I don’t want to die, and if anyone I have ever met at school seems like the guy to show up with AK-47 and a bomb, ready to spray and blow us all to hell with him, the smiler is the man. I try to return the stare but it is just to unnerving because of his creepy ass smile, it is like God told the world’s funniest joke and this kid is the only person who got it.

The next hour and a half of class is the most uncomfortable I have ever been in my entire life, beating the time the girl ask me if we were going out, while we were in bed, and I had to say no, and that was colder than Coors Light cold, let me tell you. An hour and a half goes by and this guy has done nothing but stare at my table with the stupid smile and giggle at us, than class ends and my group goes up to the teacher to discuss the final assignment we were just handed and instead of living this guy gets up and stares at us the whole time we are talking to the teacher with that smile. Then I go stand next to him and mimic his smile to get a laugh out of my friends and we take off before the smiler decide to use my insides as his Halloween mask this year.

Just to finish how weird this guy is he had to do a presentation in front of class with a group of people and he didn’t do anything but smile and stare at the wall at the back of class and giggle to himself. Pretty weird, no?

Morale: Whatever drug that guy is on, find some.

J

I Wish...

So, I was driving home from work the other day and a song came up on my iPod that I had long forgotten about. “I Wish” by the one and only Robert Kelly, or R. Kelly, for those that aren’t smart enough to realize that the “R” actually stands for something. Let me tell you, what a piece of crap that song is. It is literally 6 minutes of R. Kelly complaining about all the money and fame he has and how he wishes he could trade it all away. Quick question for everyone… do you ever find yourself sitting at home eating a bag of chips when you come across a wish chip? You now the ones, folded in half… have to shove the whole thing in your mouth and your wish will come true…well every time I get one of those little fuckers I say to myself “I wish I had a million dollars”…I know only a million, well that was a lot of money when I started this whole wish chip thing, now it could probably get me a pack of smokes, a tank of gas and a 40 of JD, what has this mad, mad world come too! Now, apparently R. Kelly is the only person in the entire universe (that’s right, aliens included) that doesn’t want money, he wants it all taken away from him, the money and the fame, he just don’t enjoy the game…no more.

Now let me “axe” you a few questions… do you think R. Kelly was so distraught from the game, the money, the women and the fame that he intentionally pissed on a 14 year old and then brought the baloney bus to tuna town, because he wanted to lose all of his money? Maybe, just maybe it was because Mr. Kelly was trapped in that closet for so damn long that he had time to reflect on his life and how after I believe I can Fly and If I Could Turn Back The Hands of Time, his career amounted to nothing.

Anyways, R goes through this whole speech about how his friends wouldn’t be friends with him if he wasn’t famous and how “momma, I want out…” are the exact words out of this whiny little bitch’s mouth. No one is forcing this man to sing are they? Is he performing with a gun to his head? Why not just donate all of his money to charity and become a decrepit drug dealer, like Jay-Z was? And then after wishing for everything to go away, what he is really wishing for is for someone to come and “braid his hair”, so I just listened to 6 minutes of complaining because your hair isn’t braided. Mine hair isn’t braided either but I can still manage to function in life…what a ponce.

And my last piece against Robert is…(drum roll please) how many times can you say “trapped in the closet” in the closet in one song? Mind you the song is 27.5 hours long, but he says trapped in the closet like 7 times in 3 minutes in the beginning… now I’m in the closet, he looks at the closet, I’m still in the closet, he steps up to the closet, she says oh no not the closet, I’m standing in a closet, I want out of the closet, he opens the closet. I imagine it is hard to come out of the closet, but at least R. Kelly had two supporting friends Rufus and Kelly to help ease his transition into the gay community.

Moral of the Story: If you are going to pee on someone don’t videotape it.

Need suggestions for new posts, just leave suggestions in the comments.

J

The Night That Ended at 8 (for one of us at least)

It all started when a girl we knew, started dating a guy we didn’t. For the sake of the story let’s assume the girls name is BigK and that her boyfriends name was PissPants. BigK really wanted us to be friends with her knew boyfriend, whom we all already knew from grade school and our neighbourhood, but never really spoke to him much, because he was “not cool enough” (teenagers are sad aren’t they?). So being the ever courteous and accepting human beings that we were at 17, we decided to let this kid, PissPants, into the fold.

Now my friends and I were pretty heavy into the booze (all of us) and cigarettes (most of us) when we were in high school and I guess the new boy PissPants took it upon himself to try to fit in with the rest of us. So he brought him self a nice 500 ml water bottle of Canadian Club Whiskey. I was handling a six pack of Busch and a six shooter of Vodka myself, but 12 drinks wasn’t much for the seasoned veterans of alcoholism that we were back than. Upon entry to my buddy, whom we will call LiqourEECH, PissPants decided it would be a genius idea to drink all 500ml in one massive chug. Obviously this is not a bright idea for a kid who has never taken a drink in his life before.

The following is a timeline of the events that ensued for the next 45 minutes of the night.

7:00 p.m. - PissPants is rolling around the pool table in the basement complaining about how drunk he is right now and begins to spit on the felt of the table.

7:02 p.m. – My friend Skakes and I begin to worn PissPants that if he doesn’t stop spitting on the table we are going to beat the shit out of him and kick him out of the house… PissPants looks us directly in the eye (well the best that crossed eyed drunk could look I guess) and spits on the table for the final time that night.

7:04 p.m. – PissPants is now being dragged off of the pool table and thrown into a support beam in LiquorEECH’s basement by Skakes and me. We then proceed to drag him up the basement stairs and to the side of the house where all he can do is complain that he doesn’t have any shoes on, this turned out to be the least of his worries.

7:10 p.m. – My Friend Harry (obviously not his real name) comes to the side of the house with PissPants shoes… PissPants is slamming the back of his head against the brick wall screaming at me to stop pushing him. I tell him he is crazy and push him into the corner between the fence and the brick wall.



7:12 p.m. – PissPants is now going on about how he is going to kill me… the conversation went a little something like this:
PissPants: “I’m going to fucking kill you for this Jon!”
Jon: “Okay, if you are so sure you are going to kill me why don’t you stop talking like a nutless bitch, stand up and get it over with?”
PissPants: “Well, I’m not going to kill you I am going to pay someone else to kill you”
Jon: Whatever PissPants, just keep your mouth shut and sit there!”
I then proceed to grab one of his shoes from Harry and hurl it into PissPants balls… he doesn’t even flinch. Upon, seeing this Skakes, Harry and I can’t believe that he just took a shot to the testicles and didn’t even acknowledge that it happened. Harry throws his other shoe with a perfect bulls-eye in the old division sign…no reaction.

7:15 p.m. – After heckling PissPants for a few minutes and laughing at him in his drunken stupor, Skakes begins to break up some of that old Mary Jane for an evening smoke. PissPant’s eyes light up… he wants some weed, but alas he is too drunk to roll it. I offer to roll it for him… Drugs and money exchange hands.

7:20 p.m. – 7:30 p.m. – I am inside the house rolling the joint and playing video games for the next ten minutes… unfortunately the joint was just a cigarette emptied out into a three paper… the weed was saved for Skakes and I. I decide that I should add a few buds for flavour and scent so PissPants doesn’t wise up to our scheming ways. I make my way back upstairs.

7:31 p.m. – I open the front door and our friend T-Mac is honestly 4 feet in the air and he than comes down like a bat out of hell and leg drops PissPants on the chest…Breaking 2 of PissPants ribs. At this point I am rolling around on the grass laughing at PissPants as he begins crying for his “Mommy”, a recurring theme in this story.

7:33p.m. – PissPants finally stops crying and gets up and stumbles/sways/crawls across the street to lie down in the middle of a guys driveway, right on the sidewalk. PissPants is moaning and crying for his Mom and screaming at all of us when all of a sudden he goes completely quiet and only stares at the beautiful blue sky…everyone quiets down to day dream when we are all brought back to reality by the gut wrenching sound and image of PissPants puking straight into the air while lying on his back creating a fountain affect that is landing on his face.

7:33p.m. – After two minutes at marveling at PissPants while he put on a chunk blowing sprinkler show, we realize that maybe, just maybe, if this kids luck is anything like it has been tonight than he is surely going to choke to death. One of the girls, brucelee, kicks PissPants in the side until he rolls onto his side.

7:34p.m. – PissPants enraged, wakes up from his own private puke fest, just like Will Farrell did in Old School after taking a dart in the neck. Again, we are all still laughing at him as he starts sprinting to lie back down on liquorEECH’s front lawn were he can “lie the fuck down and sleep this fucking thing off.” Good luck little soldier good luck.

7:35 p.m. – After a 30 second cat nap PissPants wakes up ready to take on the world, but first, he needs to use the facilities. Instead of just going in his pants, or inside which would have been the two good decisions, he leans against a tree and whips it out. So PissPants has he pants around his ankle and his hog, more like a piglet, in his hand in broad daylight.

He begins to urinate, he starts to sway, his shoulder leaves the tree he was leaning on, when he goes back to lean on the same tree, his body has shifted, he misses the mark.
TIMBERRR…PissPants crashes to the ground, with his pants still on, but wait his dick is no longer in his hand, it is aiming at his face…and still pissing.

7:40p.m. – Harry decides he has seen enough of this kid piss and puke on himself, and enough of the kid’s package hanging out in the breeze like it’s the goddamn gay pride parade. Harry decides to cover up PissPants with his own jacket. As he runs over to cover the still peeing almost lifeless mound of human flesh that is PissPants, he laughs aloud and screams to us “someone should tell this kid to trim”. This starts a new bout of laughter, and the edges of the real dilemma are becoming clear… What are we supposed to do with PissPants for the rest of the night, we don’t want to babysit that sack of shit.

7:45p.m. – So, I decide that the only course of action to take in regards to PissPants and his oh so lovely apparel of shit and piss, is to call his parents and tell them to pick him up. The general consensus is that this is the best idea.

7:48p.m. – I dial his number and tell his parents that “we found PissPants in the park and we are really worried about him, we think he might be drunk, he is passed out. He is at the corner of the park; we’ll wait for you to come get him.

Conclusion: PissPants parents show up to the park and try to say that the person lying on the ground in a drunken stupor covered in his own piss and puke, is in fact, not their son. We convince them that it is and they pick him up off the ground, their faces turn to disgust as they realize what he is covered in and throw him back in the van. Our night goes on as planned; we continue getting drunk and laugh at the idiot that went home at 8.

If I were Superman...

My brother Josh is a big fan of Smallville, and I used to be until it got all messed up, but we decided to watch the first few seasons all over again and it got me to thinking about how my life and choices would differ from that of Clark Kent.

Well, let me tell you that every decision that I would make would probably be the exact opposite of what Clark Kent would choose to do in every situation. The most recent episode I watched was when a Police Detective from Metropolis saw Clark stop a bus and than exploited him and his powers to do illegal activity for the cop. Now Clark went along with this for fear of his family and that his secret would be released to the general public. Now first thought that came to my head was, I think, the most obvious, kill him. Snap his damn neck and than grab his lifeless carcass and chuck his ass into outer space and no one would be the wiser. Now I know this option can be seen as morally wrong, and like a wise man once said, I believe it was Uncle Ben, with great power comes great responsibility, but the cop was wrong in the first place… so in this case two wrongs do make a right.

I would be exploiting myself if I had all those abilities. Super Speed, Invincibility, X-ray Vision (I could think of many risqué ways to use that lol), heat vision, cold breath, unlimited strength and obviously unparalleled good looks. I would be on Manchester United as midfielder, The San Francisco 49ers as Quarterback, The Blue Jays as a Center Fielder and I would be wiping the greens with Tiger Woods. On top of that, I would have already found Bin Laden, stop the war in Iraq, ended child poverty and won a Nobel Prize for awesomeness.

I would be untouchable, mad with power and constantly breaking the law, because in all honesty, how are they going to stop me? I know some of you might be thinking KRYPTONITE!! But since there is no planet Krypton I would just be Superman without any weaknesses’. So money, women and being famous (or infamous, depending on how you feel) would all be mine.

Last but not least I would definitely not be such a bitch when it can to Lana Lang, or any other girl for that matter. I am the most powerful and fastest person on the planet earth if not the entire universe and what I want I would get, or simply put, take. So high school boyfriend or not Lana Lang would be mine, and Chloe, and Lois, and Lex’s Girlfriend, Aunt Nell, The invisible girl that Clark ends up dating… basically every able bodied hot women in the city, state/province, country, continent. So if God does gift me with these abilities, than every one bewares, and Kate Beckinsale you can’t hide from me!

The New Dream!!!

Now as some of you may remember a little while back I wrote about my plans to obtain and care for a pet elephant named Fred. Well over the last couple months or so my ambitions in life have become even higher. I realized that Fred may not be an obtainable goal because of Government regulations on the import and ownership of 3 ton exotic animals.

My new goal in life is to have a dream apartment, which will be called the JD tower formerly known as the CN tower. Now right away you are probably laughing at me thinking “what an idiot, this guy could never have the CN tower as an apartment.” Well contrary to popular belief I have designed a way to make it mine. Obviously hard work, a shit load and money and possibly some kind of illegal activity with be necessary but beyond that I have an idea.

China apparently now has the world’s tallest free standing building, and the rich oil merchants of Dubai are reportedly erecting the soon to be tallest, placing our glorious CN Tower at third on the list of world’s tallest buildings. With this knowledge it has occurred to me that as a tourist why on God’s green earth would I want to visit the world’s third tallest building? With tourism and tour’s to the CN Tower dwindling in the future (fingers crossed) hopefully the cost of operations will exceed the benefits of having the building and in effect making the tower a seemingly useless attraction.

This is where I swoop in, with shit loads of money and plan to get the now third tallest eyesore, out of the hands of the Torontonians whom own it. Then, the renovations begin! I start by making my bedroom on the glass floor, I know what you thinking, that is so awesome my head just might explode. Their will be an en suite bathroom to my bedroom, notice to mention a balcony with the best view in Toronto. On clear nights I will be able to watch the Blue Jays lose, and throw stones at them from the top.

The communications pod will become the guest bedroom for family and friends, for those of you unaware of what I mean, it is the bulb above the bulb on the tower.

This would be the most amazing apartment in the world, even if it isn’t furnished just because it is the JD tower and it is massive. After a hard night on the town with friends, why not bring the after party to the coolest apartment you can find, one that takes a 10 minute elevator ride to get up too. Not to mention that it would pretty much seal the deal with any lady I or one of my wing men meet in the clubs/bars/street.

This may seem all but impossible to achieve but a wise man once said:
“You may say that I’m a dreamer, But I’m not the only one”

To know if I have achieved this call me in ten to fifteen years at 416 JD-TOWER

The Paradox of Time Travel...

So my twin brother and I (for identity purposes we will refer to him as Spicer), planned on watching all of the movie trilogies (or higher) that we owned. So we started with the Lethal Weapons, Indiana Jones', Lord of the rings and so on, but when watching trilogies it cannot be complete without Doc Brown saying "great scott" and Marty saying "that's heavy." So we started watching back to the future and that is when the idea of time travel came into my mind and because of this I have suffered numerous migraines and have almost had my head explode twice from trying to calculate all the possibilties of time travel and it's consequences.

The easiest way to look at it is that if we could travel back in time, the experience and result can be described in two simple words "oh fuck!" Anything you do would cause a severe disturbance in the space time continuum and boom the past, present and future of the world is now stuck on an alternate 1985. (watch back to the future to understand this allusion). With this knowledge I decided to think about what Marty does and how he tries to make things better by altering even more things in the past to affect his future. Well, colour me pink and call me an elephant, none of that shit marty did would even make a difference, for reasons that follow:

1. His mom and dad would immediately recognize him as Calvin Klein when he became 18 again (in the future) and their heads would simultaneously explode from the knowledge.

2. His kissed his mom and took her to prom, that knowledge alone is enough to land any hormonal teenager in the insane asylum.

3. In real life Biff would have just kicked the shit out of George McFly and than Marty.

4. Chuck Berry would never steal Johnny B. Good from a white guy.

5. Going back in time and allowing Chuck Barry to use his own song would mean that Marty was always going to go to the past, Doc was never going to die and the Libyans were never at the mall for shopping.

And believe I could go on and on with this list but I feel that these answers are satisfactory enough for the masses. It is safe to assume that even going back in time would create a rip in the space time continuum and cause so much shit that you would just off yourself instead of dealing with the consequences. But if you are at all interested in time travel and crazy shit like that try reading Lightning by Dean Koontz and if that doesn't keep you up at night trying to comprehend all that craziness than God Help You.

Cheers

The Fred Fund!

There is a certain point in every young man's life were he has to really realize which of his dreams are fantasies and which of his dreams he can turn into reality... I recently had one of these life altering realizations about the dreams and goals that I have set for myself... For example I am never going to win a Superbowl as a QB for the Niners...Play for the ever loved Manchester United Red Devils...or sleeping with Kate Beckinsale. But I have realized one of my dreams that I can possess, and that my friends is owning my very own elephant as a pet, best friend, confidant and vehicle...I was recently out with My brother Josh, his girlfriend Emily and My good buddy Chris and we got into a little discussion about the reality of me having a pet elephant and comlications that would arise from having one... I have an argument to contradict all of their nay-sayings, although some are not strong they are still all valid points leading me to my destiny of owning an elephant.First and foremost the most valid point for owning an elephant is the fact that it would be really fucking awesome with a capital "A". Here are some of the contradiction as I was faced with from my peers and my replies to each to prove that although far fetched it is entirely possible."Where would you keep an elephant"Now, I admit this one was a real tough question given the fact that I live at home with my folks and I live in a town house. But again I chose the most likely and easiest answer to silence my critics... I would keep the damn elephant in my back yard... obviously tied to a tent peg to prevent it from staying before I had it house broken so it wouldn't wander the wilderness that is Streetsville."Elephants take really huge shits, how would you deal with that"Since my elephants diet would consist mostly of left over dinners and hay the shit would actually work as a great natural fertilizer so I could start growing my own hay to feed my elephant and save on money from buying hay in the first place. Also, on a quick tour of Mississauga and the surrounding regions I did not once encounter a sign saying pick up after your elephant so I assume that since their are no by-laws regulating the feces of elephants I could just take it for a walk down to the local dog park (which I will petition to be changed to dag/elephant park, so that it is politically correct) to use the facilities there along with the other pets."Elephants are slow, how would you ride/drive it in public?"Obviously I would have to use roads and all major highways since it will probably weigh atleast one metric ton and it is too big to use bike paths and sidewalks. Also, I understand that the elephant will not be able to go speed limit as cars do. So if an irate motorist decided to, pardon my french, but to put it eloquently "fuck" with me, I would proceed to turn my elephant around and stomp the shit out of that "mother fuckers" car and teach him a thing or two about fucking with someone who owns an elephant."What would you name your elephant?"Simply put I would call him, Fred. I feel that is a classy name and it would suit my elephant, his pet name from me would be Mr. Droopy Ears and to everyone else that doesn't want to be sit on it would politely be Mr. Fred The Elephant, Sir."How would you control an elephant while you were driving?"That is easy I would simply use reins much like a horses but on a larger scale. It would also turn left and right by my vocal commands once I have Fred properly trained on the road laws governing ontario. Also, since Fred is not much of a booze hound, I could techinically drink and drive since he would be in control on those long rough nights."Africa is hot, Canada is cold, surely your elephant will die from the elements?"Yes, you are certainly correct that Africa is hot and Canada is cold, it doesn;t take Einstein to figure that out. I would have to build an elephant house for Mr. Droopy Ears for those winter months where he could just relax and kick back, maybe watch the game and eat some hay. It would have central heating and cable t.v. as well as a giant pond for bathing, drinking and just some good old swimming. Also, if people decide to follow suit maybe Fred will one day vring home some elephants bitches to either spread his seed or wifey, I'm not to controlling over so it is entirely up to him what he does with his women. I know, I know where is he going to poo? right? well after about six months of intensive training and building during the warmer summer months Fred will have a toilet and fully potty trained by than so I really don't see that as an issue."Where would you park Fred at school, and how would you keep him there?"The easiest thing to do is park fred in a regular parking spot, although I will have to double park, but what cop is going to have the balls to ticket a fucking elephant, none that I have heard of. (Fred will also have insurance, a liscense plate taped to his ass and registration stickers, updated annually). I would than have to tie Fred up to a truck or any automobile with a hitch attachment on it. And because he weighs a fucking ton, literally, I will have no fear of the outher vehicle driving away because that is clearly impossible. Also, Fred will be trained to gently subdue and detain any daring person that tries to untie him from their vehicles.So, you see all questions have been reasonably answered and having a pet elephant is more of a reality that ever before. Using the two motto's that I try to live my life by "if there is a will, there is a way" and "persistance and perserverance gets shit done" I have found a way to silence all of you who are trying to keep me from my dreams and oppress me from fulfilling my full potential. you can all laugh now, but I will the last one laughing when Fred tramples all over your fucking house. And when you all decide that a pet elephant is man's new best friend and "obtain" your own that we can form an elephant rider gang, that I would like to call "Serenghetti's Angels" and we can go "Stampeding" much like they show in the movie Jumanji... just don't say Jumanji out loud, Fred lost a brother and an uncle in that cruel, cruel game.So when people try to tell you you can't have something or do something just remember my good friend "Mr. Droopy Ears", and you will feel confident that anything in this world is possible.