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Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Why I am Too Jersey for New York.

I fucking love stupid people. I love to watch them, to make fun of them, and most of all, to walk amongst them. Fortunately or unfortunately, I am not one of them. I have too many ideas and too much intelligence to ever be stupid. It's a damn shame, because stupid people are great. Where does one go to find stupid people? New York City of course.

Sadly, I cannot spend too much time in New York for the reason that I am just too Jersey. There's really no way I can explain it other than that I am just too Jersey for New York. What does that mean? I'll explain.

I went to New York last Wednesday with the boy Joe Sada. It should be mentioned that Joe is in fact a Brooklyn born baby. He has more NY in him than a Harlem hooker has AIDS. When I went with him, we took a subway to the village so that we could see Flight Club and the Supreme store. The subway however, was an obstacle for me to climb over.

I not only had no idea how to properly buy a ticket, but I was very confused on how to get past the little spinney thing with metal rods. I believe the name of that contraption is a called a, "New Jersey Detector." After getting through that force field, I had to rely on Joe to figure out what train to take. I was too confused, too overwhelmed, and too Jersey.

Being that most of my readers are Manalapaners and formerly from New York, perhaps nobody will understand my problems. Nevertheless, I have more to explain.

After seeing 14,967 gay men walk down the streets of the Village (which was awesome), I found myself exhausted and thinking that it would be a long time until New York and I danced again. I was incorrect, and instead went back just the next week. This time however, I would be headed to Manhattan, the true heart of New York.

Let me just say this before I begin, FUCK MANHATTAN.

Going to the city with Nicole Wroblewski and my other homie Alice, I was already pissed off because of how difficult is has to be to just buy a damn ticket for the bus. To quote Alice's mom, "idiots." Once we were actually on ground in Manhattan, it truly was a sight to see those sky high buildings and flashing lights. It was also awesome to see all the homeless crackheads on the sides of the streets. I made a new friend with a toothless old homeless man who I'll call Macaroni because that's what he smelled like.

Here's my problem with New York, particularly Manhattan: Everyone there is a piece of asshole.

I don't mean to offend anyone, even though I am extremely offensive. Well anyway, here's a great example of why city folk suck. Alice, Nicole, and I went to a small diner not too far away from Times Square. I remember looking at the menu and seeing that even the sides were 8 dollars each. Back in Jersey, 8 dollars can at least pay for a decent turkey sammich.

I asked the waitress (whom promptly had snake bites and dyed lesbian hair) how much coffee was.

She told me 4 dollars.

I laughed, flipped over the table, shit on the floor, burned the building down, and currently have an arrest warrant.

IF A FUCKING CUP OF COFFEE COSTS 4 DOLLARS, THE GRINDS BETTER HAVE BEEN SHIT OUT BY JESUS CHRIST AND THEN BREWED BY THE DALI LAMA BECAUSE OTHERWISE, THAT FUCKING CUP OF COFFEE IS MORE OVERPRICED THAN THE KOREAN HOOKERS I CONTINUE TO USE.

In other news, I love Korean hookers. Regardless, I fucking hate that place. Even Nicole and Alice's macaroni and cheese tasted like shit. When a different waiter came around to ask how we were doing I promptly told him, "Yeah ugh.... not good. You should go get some gasoline and torch this motherfucker down to the ground."

Alright, I am embellishing a little bit, but that's what I thought in my head.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I refuse to take bullshit, and if there's one thing that New York is a master at, it is selling you bullshit. If it came down to going to the city or going out to California, I would sprint down to the Spanish ghettos in Los Angelos. After these past few debacles, I have realized that I am too Jersey to ever go back to New York. Somehow, I know that I'm going to have to go back and face the whore that is the city, but until then, I kindly give the great Empire State my elongated middle finger.




Let's go Devils.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

That Time I Dressed Up Like a Woman.

I am not gay. I cannot enunciate that enough. I promise you all, that I am a fan of the genitals on women. However, this blog post I am about to write may be used as evidence against me. So why
write it? Because, fuck you. It's funny to see me dressed as a woman isn't it?

Since I was 8, I have enjoyed acting. I remember being in 3rd grade and having to put on a miniature play in my classroom. I was an excellent performer and received an A+. After I realized my prowess, I went on to pursue other acting gigs. Sadly, I am a broke ass motherfucker and don't have a manager/head shot/fuck to give. However, I have still been fortunate enough to have had several school jobs to fulfill.

Let's start with 8th grade, the play that made me meet Nicole Anne Wroblewski, my first kiss. I'm not really sure why she thought me suitable for kissing. Especially since my character in the play Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory was none other than, Grandpa fucking Joe. Before I get into my other costumes I'll just show you this little memory.

Straight Ballin'



Anyway, after having make-up on my face for the first time like that, I got used to the idea of using make-up again for comedy. The time for me to once again put make-up on did not arise again until I was 15. Just last Halloween, I conjured the greatest idea I have ever bred. I was going to be Mrs. Klumb.

Before I begin, I'd like to explain who Mrs. Klumb is. She was the greatest human being alive. She looked like a cross between a deflating Jabbah-the-hut and a raccoon. She wore enough make-up to successfully drown a rhinoceros. In addition, back in the 90's she was fired for drinking on the job when it was discovered she had a bottle of vodka in her purse. Oh yeah. Then she came back in 2006 to "teach" and was somehow allowed back into the Manalpan-Englishtown Middle School.

I use the term "teach" very loosely here. Because in her class, I did not learn one thing, except that she was fucking crazy. If you knocked on your desk, she thought it was someone at the door. If you asked her a question, she would ignore you and continue to speak absolute nonsense. Also, she was 100% oblivious to anything that happened in her vicinity. I recall hearing tales that two boys had a 'jerk-off race' in her class. When one of the contenders finally ejaculated, she asked what the sticky white goo was.

She thought it was Purrell, and cleaned it up.

Well, after not having Good ol' Mrs. Klumb for 3 years, I decided to pay homage to her and dress up like her for Halloween. My friends and family thought it would be a great idea. So my objective was to look like THIS.




My challenge was difficult. I knew that in order to match her swagger, I would require many trips to Bloomingdale's and Home Goods. But after much work, I managed to pull it off. Halloween 2011, I became Mrs. Klumb.

You have no idea how hard my mom was laughing.



I actually DID dance with heels on. And perhaps drew the most attention to myself humanly possible.



Thumbs Up.



Look how normal people dress for Halloween, and then there's me.

 
Well, as if that wasn't enough to convince all my readers that I am in fact, a raging transsexual, I had to dress up as a woman once more, for a school project.

Our assignment was to redo Shakespeare's, Julius Ceaser. We chose to do a spoof as The Real Housewives of Shakespeare. Well, the role required several boys to dress up as women and play the parts of the main characters as females. I had the pleasure of being "Danielle Ceaser."

It took us roughly a month to do the whole project and the 18 minute long video project can be found here.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0OKWZKw-U0

I recommend watching just the first few minutes, before I go and get killed. Well, I actually had to dress up like a woman every single day for 3rd period English class (which was right after I had gym, so on top of being sweaty I had to reapply make-up everyday.) The look people had when the saw me walking out of the bathroom was awesome. I'll never forget the way one of the school security staff said, "never a dull day in Manalapan High School." Correct he was.

Here, is Danielle Ceaser.

Shouts out to Dan Russo in the background.


 
Well, I'm happy to say that it has been about 6 months since the last time I've had to wear ladies' clothing, but I'm not quite sure if its the last time. I mean after all, try and tell me I don't look terrific. If I ever want to become a transgender, I at least have the skills to look like one. Looks like I really am Awesome.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

That Time I Broke Into Someone's House.

How many terrible ideas have you and your friends had? I'm guessing that throughout your life, there have probably been some pretty terrible choices. My awesome life has no exceptions. I have lived a life full of bad decisions. For example, when I was 10 and fat, I thought it would be a good idea to try and play "Ding-Dong-Ditch." I think I made it 7 steps before I got caught. Like I said, I was quite fat.

Well, like many bad ideas, there are the Queens of awful decisions. And not too long ago, I had my very own Queen.

Where do I begin? I guess I'll explain that on this day me and my friend Joe had a lovely day kissing-I mean hanging out with each other. Damn it, my delete button isn't working. Fuck. Anyway, Joe and I were searching for something to do in the evening. And since we are whores, we had nothing better to do than go to a beer pong tournament.

Thus is a great start to this story.

Well, Joe and I don't drink for the simple reason that it's stupid. I mean, if you want to than go right ahead and have a ball. I don't fucks with alcohol though. So, there wasn't really a point in going to the beer pong tournament. Joe and I figured we could at least go and spectate and just chill with some of our out-of-town friends.

I immediately began to think of how college kids in corny TV shows would cheer when people sunk a ball into a beer-filled cup. I imagined Joe and I doing the same thing, just cheering and chilling. Nope, I was wrong.

As we were on our way, we were informed that if we came to the house where said event was going to be hosted, we should look for a black car. If it was there, we were supposed to go to another girl's house, which wasn't too far away. This is where I became a bit concerned, but I just kind of brushed it off. Once, dropped off, we did in fact see a black automobile and had to go the neighboring home.

I arrived into the house with Joseph. There were a healthy amount of kids inside, perhaps 20. Around this time is when I discovered that we could not play beer pong in the house we were in. Instead, we had to use someone else's house.

What, the fuck in a hat.

I asked around to see where exactly we were going. Apparently, one of the boys at the beer pong tournament knew the garage code to someones house.

Our plan was this:

A- Split the party into 3 groups
B- Sneak through people's backyards and hop over fences to get to the house
C- Break into the house
D- Drink underage in the house
E- Get picked up from somewhere not near the house
F- Not get arrested

Oh yeah, this is bullet-proof. What could possibly go wrong?

At this point, Joe and I had serious thoughts about leaving. However, Asshole insisted that we stay because we had vaginas if we left. He said, "No good story ever starts with, 'it was crazy so I left.'" Well Asshole, most of these 'good stories' are told in jail, a place I really don't want to go.

Going against every instinct I had, I followed my group (the last group) to the house. When I say that this path was sketchy, I mean that I may as well have been going to rape someone. It was the single most unnecessary path taken by mankind. Once we were out of the backyards and woods that we were jumping through, I noticed that we easily could have just walked around the street and made a right turn.

What the fuck in a monkey.

I asked a girl why we couldn't have just walked there down the street and she informed me that, "it would be too sketchy!"

Teenagers iz so smarT.

The front door was already opened by the time my group got there, so I don't consider it breaking and entering. I consider it, "being a pussy that follows people." Once in the house, I had the opportune of seeing the house's owners. No, they weren't there because they were on vacation for a few days. However, it was impossible to not notice the family pictures placed all around the house.

Oh yeah, this wasn't some 20 year old kid that maybe my buddy happened to know. The owners had 0 idea that we were doing this and I'm pretty sure they never quite will. It's kind of like Dane Cook's skit on when he kicked in someones door when he was 18. Nonetheless, I was looking around the house and saw the family photos with the happy mom and dad and the kids.

Children are taught morals here, and we broke in, to play beer pong, underage. America.

Chatting with some other attendants , I inquired if they also realized how terrible of an idea this is. One person informed me that he was sleeping over there. Yup, just sleeping on the couch of this house. I have to say, that kid has more balls than I have ever known could exist.

Finally coming to our senses, Joe and I said fuck this. We left due to the realization that we were going out of our way just to watch beer-pong. We figured, "we may be pussies, but I don't want to go to jail so fuck you." As we left, I recall seeing a neighbor just take out the trash. It was like a living reminder of how anything could go wrong. If someone saw lights on in the house or heard too much noise, they might have just investigated and called the police.

Fortunately for everyone, the police never did show up.

Now, I don't write on this blog to sound like a bad ass. I am far from being a hard ass. If you were to compare me to Rambo, Charlie Sheen, or Obama, you would find that I have the 'badass-ness' of a block of cheese. I do, however, write on this blog to show you all how awesome I am. And if I can break into someones house and not get in any trouble whatsoever for it, well that's pretty awesome if you ask me.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Roger, Derrick, and Charlie.

I am awesome, you all already know this. But what makes me so awesome is my abiltiy to understand and disect people. I am able to read people and figure out how they work. The way people dress, talk, walk, and act in public makes me decipher whether or not I like them in a matter of only minutes. For example, if you are a black person wearing chains and low shorts, I already love you. If you are a skinny white girl wearing shorts so tiny that I can see your lower buttocks, I hate your very soul.

Why am I telling you this? Because I have nothing better to do. But because I have this ability to read people, it has made me into a good writer, at least that's what I think. Someone once told me my writing was mediocre, but he can go fuck himself because he wears flannel shirts in public. No Ethan, I am not talking about you.

Actually, Ethan doesn't even read this so fuck him.

Anyway, because I enjoy writing I've decided to make it my future occupation. Though, writing is a very broad subject. Almost every modern day job involves some asshole sitting behind a computer typing up some shit. Even construction workers, working with their hands, have some boss or some accountant working behind a desk filling out forms for orders of equipment.

But wearing a tie everyday and sitting behind a desk sounds about as fun as going to the Manalapan senior center.

So the last thing I want to do is be an office jockey. I don't think 'office jockey' is even a term, but fuck you this is my blog I do what I want. Instead of sitting in a building and typing away at whatever, I want to write scripts.

As of right now, I'm working on my first script called, The Menus. And since I have done absolutely nothing with my Summer so far, I guess I'll tell all y'all about my movie.


There are three main characters, Roger, Derrick, and Charlie. Roger is based off me, because if theres anything this world needs, its more Justin Hawthornes. So Roger is a lot like me, an asshole that hates everyone and is saracastic and witty. Then theres Derrick, my Noah. He's my sidekick and my homie, even though we have our differences. Finally, there's Charlie. Charlie is the hardass of the crew always getting into trouble and doing dumb shit. He's pretty much Matt Dizenhaus with a different name.

Why should you care? Because you could have the chance to say that you knew about the movie before anyone else in the world. Actually, my friends have already read what I've done so far, so you're beat. But now I just sound like an asshole. But I am an asshole... Okay, I'm just going on in circles.

Anyway, a little interesting fun fact you might be interested in is that I started writing the script and coming up with the plot in the middle of detention. Thats right, in the middle of a detention I came up with the idea of the movie. Looks like being disrespectful is worth something afterall.

If you're interested in reading a short sample of my script, reach me at my e-mail whosteen1@gmail.com

If you aren't, then go shit on a hat.

Who IS Atheistjustin?

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I am Never Wrong. I am Awesome. I do NOT eat ass.