The Not That Great Podcast

Hey assholes. Check out my new podcast here:

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Atheistjustin Is Alone At A Sweet 16

Hey whores. I know I haven't written on this piece of shit website in a long time, but I have been so busy being analed by midterms, work, and school that I may as well be a Vietnamese hooker. I hope that put as many images in your head as it did to me. Anyway, I don't have much going on in my insanely action-packed life, unless you consider sleeping and watching reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond 6 hours a day exciting.

But of course, as always, there is a story to tell.

This story is unique in its own way, because it is an entirely new experience for me. Recently, I went to a Sweet 16 for a sophomore friend of mine, while I, myself, am a junior. Let me explain to you the level of fuckery which occurred for me at said event. Also, if a member of the court/sweet 16 girl reads this, just know that I DID have a good time and I appreciate the invite.

But nonetheless, it was an adventure. Like giving your first rim job or picking up your first axe-murdering hitch hiker.

First, I will elaborate that I was invited entirely because my girlfriend Red Snapper was on the court. Had I not had this relationship, there was less than .5 shits chance that I was going to be invited. In truth, me and the Sweet Sixteeness (new term I invented haha suck my dick Shakespeare) had only two conversations in our entire existences.

I prepared, as I always do, by putting on my outfit and dressing up 3 hours too early. In my entirely black attire, I kept looking at myself in an almost entirely homosexual manner. I wondered if this was how David Beckham feels all the time or if this is what its like to have a huge penis.

My penis' length is highly private.

After masturbating and cumming on my own chest, which is something my friend Joe Sada tried, I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and headed to the Sweet 16 early, as I always arrive to events early. I am a gentleman, what can I tell you.

Also fuck you.

So anyways, I get to the Sweet 16 early and immediately get punched in the face by awkwardness. Apparently, my arrival was too premature as nobody else, except the court and family, was there. Thankfully, I stole my girlfriend's phone and let everybody know that she enjoys the anus of pigs and dolphins. I also started a twitter battle with Joe, but that's an everyday occurrence.

Oh, and by the way, I have to mention that finding the Sweet 16, or really any Sweet 16 I've ever been to, has always been a fucking hassle. I don't know if I'm a retarded fish-like monkey, but you bitches need to start making your events in easily accessible places. Perhaps my basement or attic would be a good location.

Just kidding, I don't have a basement.

Just a collection of doll heads and chains.

Shortly after my awkward encounter, cocktail hour started and I walked into a room with my girlfriend and 15 sophomores, 10 of which I didn't even know the names of. Soon after entering said chambers, I was accosted by Mexican women handing small ordure's on platters. I have to say that the catering in this fucking place was more aggressive than a Chinese rapist.

 No offense to Chinese rapists, but y'all are aggressive.

In case you haven't noticed, my analogies are only getting worse and more ridiculous.

I wasn't particularly hungry because of the peanut butter jelly sandwich I had eaten only moments prior. Nevertheless, I stuffed my fat fuck face with shrimp, carrots, and celery while I stood awkwardly looking like a hipster piece of shit. But then came the most surprising guest of them all.

A gay magician.

oh yes.

a gay. motherfucking. magician.

if you have shitten bricks, I completely understand.

When it comes to magicians, I'm too smart for them. If you ever want to see a magician reveal his tricks, just watch his eyes. Most magicians will look at the hand or the finger that makes the supernatural or amazing trick possible (or their penis). But I'll stop being a critiquing piece of fag and just continue with the story. I don't remember his name, so I'll call him Winston. Cause Winston is a gay name. And I like it.

Winston did some tricks with money, cards, and I think his nipples and then left his way. I was kind of sad to see him go because I would have had so much fun fucking with him.

The sweet 16 ensued and I found a total of 5 sophomores I knew/recognized. I didn't have much wiggle room to bounce around and hang out with, but I figured that since I didn't know any of them, I also didn't give a flying shit about their opinions. And so, since they were infantile to me, I danced. Oh, did I dance. When I dance, I add some of THE gayest moves possible. I throw my legs and arms in places that a normal man should not be able to. I get charismatic and off beat to the point where every movement is hilarious.

Because let's face it, dancing is fucking stupid. Throwing in some moves from P90X, I became the focus point of the dance floor several times.




Shouts out to Tony Horton for looking fantastic.

As all good things end, the Sweet 16 ended almost too soon. Perhaps the greatest thing of all was the ordure's going around at dinner time. I fucking LOVED the White Castle burgers and fries they were so fucking good holy shit.

I left the Sweet 16 full and sweaty, just the way I like it.

Being the only one of my people was nice because it made me feel taller and more important than everyone else around me, which in many cases I was.

ALSO: I had the chance to meet a few of my readers at the Sweet 16 and I was just honored to find out that you all actually exist. For a long time, I thought you were all like the tooth fairy or Easter Bunny or Jesus. But turns out there are a lot of you and you are all awesome as fuck. Thank you so much for your continued support.





Who IS Atheistjustin?

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