A Vision of Fame

It’s no secret that the goal of this blog is to be the best. To rise to the top, tear out the hearts of all, and rape their souls until they bend a knee to its greatness. However, the path to that glorious future has alluded me…until now. It came to me in a vision at a time I needed it most. A dream if you must, but it was a glorious dream. The vision had laid before me all the characters, all the pieces I would need to earn my reign as king of comedy, song, and the world. It made so much sense I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it earlier.

The Vision

I was on a stage in front of thousands of people. They were silent. Watching me and one other. At first I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid and confused. Suddenly, my partner started singing: You are…my fire. The one…desire. I stood there silently, mind blank. The crowd was restless. Then, primal reflexes and talents began to emerge from me like a volcano erupting. I raised the microphone and began to sing: Believe…when I say… I want it that way. The crowd went wild.
It felt so right
Me and my partner did an entire show. We ran into the crowd, came in and out of secret entrances, popped out where no would expected us to, blew kisses to girls, crowd surfed, did backflips. It was epic. The concert ended with an encore performance of one of the greatest songs ever written, and four simple words…Backstreets back, all right! The place exploded. It was awesome. I was a star.

After the show we were chillin’ backstage. People were coming up to me, giving me high-fives. Yeah, I was the fucking man. Then superstar Nick Cannon came in. I wasn’t surprised to see him at all. He told me that whenever I wanted, he could get me into the recording studio and we would collaborate on a record. I intended to.

Closer than brothers

The vision was clear. I must join a Backstreet Boys cover band and seek out Nick Cannon. This is my quest. I was thrown into this world with no direction and no purpose, now, not only do I have a purpose, I have a gift. I went to karaoke the other day and sang “I want it that way” just to be sure. What came out of my mouth and into my ears was like a hundred virgin angels caressing my heartstrings. This is no joke.

Now nothing can stop me from my rightful fame.

Until then, keep it fresh.

-Maxim

P.S. 50th post! Woo hoo!

When Spiders Attack

SpidermanI hate seeing animals die. I hate seeing animals suffer in any way. I can’t stand the site of it. Tears come to my eyes when fictional dogs, horses, or even those bitchass dolphins are killed off in movies; yet when there’s a bloodbath of human destruction and death I’m totally fine with it. Maybe you’d even catch me cheering it on. Gotta love society today.

That being said, I can’t kill anything, no matter what… even bugs. I don’t have the heart for it. I’m a big baby. One time during Sophomore year of college I let four or five cockroaches live in my desk. They didn’t bother me, I didn’t bother them. Well, they did bother me, a lot. But I still couldn’t bring myself around to get rid of them. I even decided to name them. Actually, since I had rarely seen more than one at a time, I think I just named them all Mario. Good times.

Bugs can torture me, they can climb all over me, they can live with me, eat, breed, enjoy basking the fruits of my room, yet I am helpless to resist them. So when the spider nation decided to wage war on me and my way of life, they basically had already won. It wasn’t me directly that they attacked. They hadn’t crawled in through the windows or anything; they hadn’t even entered my apartment at all. What they did attack though, was my main means of transport: my bike. Left outside and exposed to the elements, it was an easy target for the eight legged beasts.

It was around July when the spider webs began popping up all over the place. A normal enough site, spiders in the summer. I had never had bad experiences with spiders, or spider webs. I had stayed away from them, and they generally would stay away from me. One day, however, I caught a spider building its web between my bike, and the column that it was lying against. No big deal. I moved my bike and destroy the fledgling web, knowing the little guy could easily build another one. The next day I go to ride my bike again. What I saw stopped me in my tracks. There was a fully developed, foot long spider web in same place as last time, between my bike and the column. Only the night before had I returned the bike to its parking spot, clean, yet there it was; A big and full-bodied spiderweb with a big fat spider in the middle.

“These fuckers build fast”, I thought to myself. I stood there for literally five minutes. I didn’t want to destroy this spider’s web. I thought of how much energy it must have taken the little guy to make a web this big. I thought about how he had probably just finished it and must be really tired and hungry. I thought if I had destroyed the web, it would probably die. The moral dilemma gripped me for what seemed like an eternity. However, not willing to miss work on the account of a spider, I very reluctantly moved my bike and destroyed the web, making sure not to physically hurt the spider. The little guy never saw it coming. He scampered off and dissapered in a flash. “I’m so sorry” I said out loud, “Choose a better spot next time, little buddy”. I thought that would probably be the end of it, but boy was I wrong. Little had I know, I had triggered an endless assault that would drive me to near insanity.

The next day there was another one, and another one the next day, and the next. There were times where I would use my bicycle two, maybe three times a day, and every time I would have to clear a new web off my bike. It continues on to this day. I literally can be off my bike for five minutes and I can be sure there is a new critter crawling around encompassing my bike in its web. Needless to say I am getting annoyed, especially since I still don’t want to kill the little bastards. I have to use other ways to coerce them off my bike. Mainly, all I can do is either shake my bike up and down trying to force it off, or try and blow it away. These are the only tools I have against them.

Despite my amazing anti-spider tactics *cough*, the spider still sometimes manages to scurry off into some small crevice on the bike, forcing me to ride with the spider still crawling around. It’s the worst. This happens to me so much that I have begun to imagine spiders on my arms and legs, spinning their web on me while riding. I find myself swapping my legs at the tiniest sensation, wiping off spider webs that aren’t there. Sometimes I feel pain like I had just been bitten, when it is nothing. Fuck I don’t know! How am I supposed to know if these spiders are poisonous or not? I’m afraid!

Hope is not too far off, however. The end of summer is in sight. All I have to do is wait till mid september and I’ll be free of them… Yes…free…

I have made a graphic representation of my troubles for you all to see. It conveys my feelings well.

Spiders on my bike

If any of you have any advice as to get these spiders to stop covering my bike in their sticky web hell, I’d love to hear it. If not, then pray for me.

Until next time!

-Maxim

Sleepy Saturdays: Vacation

It’s Sleepy Saturday, and we’ve reached the fourth and final post of the all week blog theme on my vacation (Here are parts 1, 2, and 3 in case you missed them). The end came so fast. I’m almost not ready to let it go. However, we must move on to other pastures. We cannot stand idly by as the world moves on. We must  continue, we must rise, we must triumph!

So to mark the end of this beautiful theme on vacation, I give you pictures and movies from some of the best vacations ever had by man.

Laying by truckWhat a great vacation spot! Don’t you remember being on the road with your parents, seeing something on the side of the road, and having to stop and check it out? What better than a tipped over coal truck! Free futons and pillows to boot! Sweeeeeet.

Awesome vacay picThe worst? Don’t you mean… the best? How can you put that label on sailing through the tropical ocean on a fucking dolphin!? Not only that, but the bitch in the front is like, “Hey, look! No hands” and shit. Just try and beat that. Try.

Vacation Coffee ComicThe age old tale of forgetting something incredibly important that you had to do while already on the vacation. This specific example would definitely call for the cancellation of said vacation and quick return back to Shanksville.

The GriswoldsLast, but not least, we have this joyful bunch. Which one of you doesn’t know what this photo is of? I loathe you, by the way. For those who do, congratulations. Of course, it’s a photo of the Griswolds of National Lampoon’s Vacation fame; hands down the best vacationing family of all time. Proof:

Don’t fuck with Chevy Chase.

And that wraps up our week! I hope you enjoyed the vacation! Tune in next week for some brand new Madness!

Catch you later, folks!

-Maxim

America is Under Attack… And I Know Who’s Doing It

Welcome to part 3 of my vacation series! Have you been keeping up all week? I’m sure you have! Many of you know that last month I returned to my home sweet home in the beautiful United States, but what you probably didn’t know is that I also invited the girl who likes to call me her boyfriend. She happens to be Japanese and it was her first time out of Japan. How exciting, right? No, I was naive.

Everything seemed to be normal. We were havin a great time seeing the sights, driving around, shopping, and taking cute pictures with way to many peace signs.  But I soon realized that soon after we would leave an area, some strange sort of destruction would occur there. This kept happening over and over again, and I had begun to grow very suspicious. Listen to this…

For the first couple of days we drove up to see Niagara Falls. It was a beautiful place. Yet the next day, for the first time in decades, a Japanese college student fell fell into the river over the falls and to her death. They haven’t found the body. I mentioned it to my girlfriend and she told me that people slip and fall on wet rocks all the time, this just happened to be on the side of a large waterfall. Curious.

Next. We spent the rest of our trip in New York. We had a great time. Until finally it was time to go home. We take off in an airplane, back to Japan. I returned home and soon after, the east coast has its first major earthquake in 50 years. I mentioned this to her as well. She told me that the east coast was due for a large earthquake, and it’s nothing to be scared of. “In Japan, we have earthquakes everyday, pussy!”, she boasted. Very curious.

And finally yesterday, yet again another huge natural disaster is on its way up the east coast. A once in a century, category 4 hurricane, which promises to be one of the most damaging and expensive hurricanes ever, and we just happened to leave just a couple of days ago, again. Coincidence? I think not. I was under the impression my girlfriend was a Japanese spy tasked with the destruction of America. Evil bitch.
Japanese Spy

Under the guise as her loving girlfriend, I entered her parents house (aka Ninja central) yesterday evening. I was looking for evidence of the terrible things she may have done, hoping not to find what I sought. What I found was worse than I could of possibly imagined.

The Japanese girl who fell in Niagara? A defecter who took asylum in the states years ago, feeding the US with information on the the movements of other covert ninja operatives in North America. My girlfriend made short work of her, though. Attaching a small slip gel dispensor on the womans shoes covertly, she patiently waited until the girl was taking photos next to the falls. Using a remote device, she dispensed the super secret Japanese engineered gel. The rest is history. She won’t be causing my girlfriend any trouble anymore.

How about our trip around New York and the surrounding area? Reconnaissance. We drove for countless hours in the countryside. Now that I think about it she was always holding this device which looked deceivingly like a cell phone. In actually, it was a geological surveryor, which could detect weaknesses in faultlines. After our departure from the states, the Japanese governement used the information she gathered for their secret underground plate shifting resinating wave. The resulting earthquake caused destruction to some of our most beloved monuments.

And the most recent and dangerous blow, in motion as we speak: My girlfriend had mentioned several times over the course of the trip that she was a “rain woman”, a cursed soul who causes rain to fall whenever they are walking around. It did rain a lot while we were there, but I just played it off as bad luck. Little did I know the Japanese government had actually developed a weather changing device. My girlfriends third and most calculating task was was to test this device for their master plan… creating and setting loose a massive hurricane to destroy the most populated city centers in the US. The category 4 hurricane is on its way as we speak.

How had I been so naive? My girlfriend had been using me all along. I was a tool in the an attack on my homeland, the likes which had never been seen since 1945. She brought us Pearl Harbor 2. How could I ever forgive myself?

Who knows what other diabolical schemes she and the ninjas have up their sleeve…
Banzai!

So, yeah, my girlfriends a spy, a fucking ninja. Hot!

Little Treasures

Going back to the place you grew up in is an extraordinary experience. While there, you may find yourself being a little bit more sentimental than you are used to. Walking around with eyes closed, taking in all the sights, sounds and smells. The sensations touch something deep inside you. Ancient feelings rushed to the forefront of your mind, born anew. You notice that, for better or worse, your home will always be a part of you, having a profound influence on who you are today, and what you will become. On my recent trip back to the place of my upbringing, being there conjured up an unexpected memory. Something that had happened while I was very young, perhaps eight or nine, which had stayed hidden from in my sub conscience for years. Yet, when it finally came back, I remembered it as clear and as vividly as it were yesterday. An event so storied and powerful, it’s a wonder I even forgot.

I almost ate poop.

Now I know what you’re thinking. No, I wasn’t some savage going throughout the house, lurking in the shadows behind the toilet, pouncing just before the flush to gorge on the delicious morsels. I was a semi-normal child. I didn’t even like poop or the act of pooping, and for good reason! Not only did my dad constantly think that I was constipated, giving me way too many suppositories, but I was also afraid the blob was going to come down and eat me while I was alone in the bathroom. It was a double poop hating whammy jam.

So eating poop, yes. It started with a deep love of chocolate. Oh, I was a vicious little fuck. I would climb over mountains of tables and counters, sneak into ever-watched keeps of highly secured cabinets, all to reach my prized chocolate, or chocolate cookies, or whatever we had in the house. I would sneak two for breakfast, five for lunch, and ten for dinner. I would go shopping with my mother with the sole purpose of getting to that choclate heaven, the super market, and raid the aisles with the skill and precisian of a Roman Centurion. If we didn’t have a suitable treat in the house, I would, like MacGyver, create a concoction of semi-sweet chocolate chips in a spoon of chunky peanut butter…or six, a suitable snack for the weary chocolate madman. I could of been slightly chubby then, but shit, I wanted my chocolate. Bitches knew not to get in my way.

One day I found a chocolate chip on the floor. I was ecstatic. It was like finding buried treasure. I quickly, without thought as to how long it had been on the floor or how it had gotten there, picked it up and ate it. It was delicious. I was the chocolate conjurer, a chocolate pirate.

A couple weeks later I found yet another chocolate chip on the floor. “Sweet! Another chocolate chip!” I thought to myself, “The chocolate pirate strikes again! Come here my little treasure”. I picked up the chip, was about to put it into my mouth, and for some reason that I cannot comprehend, I stopped. I looked at the chip. It looked like the last one I had eaten, slightly deformed. Probably due to being left on the floor and stepped on for the past couple of days, but that shouldn’t of been a problem. Why I smelt the chip I do not know, but I did. It quite the smell I expected. I smelt again, and again, and again. Wait, no, was it…yes, It was…poop. I threw it back on the floor, happy. I had caught myself before putting the poop in my mouth. It didn’t deter me in the slightest. “My sisters, of course”, I thought, “The chocolate pirate evades yet another trap from the Kraken’s vile butt”. I was a genius. Great memory, huh? Ahh, being home again.
Chocolate or Poop

Now I realize that there is great attention paid to the similarities between chocolate and poop. I feel that many of you, the awesome readers of this blog, may have their own confusing poop for chocolate stories themselves; Whether it be finding a nice warm turd in a baking pan, or being presented with a brown present from your son or daughter. I want to know these stories! I happen to have grown a great appreciation for the ever chancing brown substance that we create. Please, feel free to share in the comments section!

Until next time!

-Maxim

The Drunken Subway Encounter

I feel like the older I get, the more I do things that can get me into trouble. I’m not talking about dumb trouble, like where you pimp slap your girlfriend for a very valiant and valid reason, and she won’t talk to you for a week. That’s easy to get out of: a nice firm smack on the butt and the good ol’ “make me a sandwich, beautiful” does it every time. Yeah, not that. What I’m talking about is the kind of trouble that can get you in jail (see Getting Out of Fights) and/or on the sexual predators list. So of course, being me, literally the day after I arrive back home I do just that.

I give you… the Drunken Subway Encounter.

Touching the Leg 1
Touching the Leg 2
Touching the Leg 3
Touching the Leg 4
Touching the Leg 5
Touching the Leg 6

Just tell me how lucky I am that this woman didn’t start screaming that I was sexual assaulting her on the train? She actually didn’t say anything… she probably liked it for all I know. I always get out of these situations completely unscathed. How do I do it, you ask? I get that a lot. It’s more simple than you think…
My Pilgrimage
Perhaps, though, I should start being more careful. Next time I may not be so… wait, what am I talking about? I’ll be fine.

Did You Miss Me?

Bear sucking faceHello lovelies! I am back from my vacation and am ready to put our little cove of madness back into gear full time. It was almost a month ago when I raced out of this hell bent, radiactive country known as J-Land, and went back to the land of mashed potato mountains known as America Town. I know that many of you were at the brink of giving up all hope of my return, but here I am, in the flesh, with over 15,000 miles added on that meter that records distance, whatever it’s called.

Oh yes, fresh back from….fresh…yeah….came back…just a couple of hours ago…uh huh…crap. I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore. I got to come clean. I’ve been trying to be totally honest with all of you throughout this entire brain probing blog experience and If I start lying now, who knows where the truth eating will end. I’ve actually been back for three days. Three entire days. I’ve been sitting here, sleeping, laying down, drinking excessivly, with all the time in the world, and I hadn’t even thought about filling in you, my lovers. I’ve cheated you all of three days of awesomeness, and I feel down right bad about it. I hope I haven’t lost your trust.

So, to make it up to all of you, for the rest of this week I will be updating everyday until Saturday. That’s right, a new awesome anecdote related to my vacation, or just some memory being home reminded me of. Should be absolutely amazing. So, look forward to it people, you’re in for some fun!

Just to tie you over here is something awesome I found at home.

Jesus Truck

I love America.