The “Tea” Party

I Heart TeaRecently, something called the “tea party” has gained popularity throughout the United States. I’ve had the distinct pleasure of having some dealings with the so called “tea” party and I have to say, they are a bunch of dirty liars. As a fellow tea lover myself, I graciously invited my local tea enthusiasts to my humble abode for a tea enthusiast get together. I was very excited. I painstakingly prepared a tea party that would impress even the most seasoned tea drinker; Tiny bite sized sandwiches, scones, biscuits, sweet tarts, crackers, and of course many different varieties of tea. I even drove all the way to the the fancy supermarket in Doylestown to get some extra special flavors.

When the faithful day finally came, however, I felt like I had been stabbed in the heart. What an ignorant, stupid, and loud bunch of people. They put shame the namesake that they have so clumsely taken for their own. They are ruining my way of life. They are ruining everything! Why can’t they just change their name to something else? They don’t have tea parties! It doesn’t make any sense! What they call a tea party is just gathering at some place yelling and screaming about some guy named O-bam-a. Who the hell is O-bam-a!? Alabama? Is O-bam-acare some sort of medicinal tea that they all don’t like? I think NOT. They had no interest in my tea and sandwiches. They even had the audacity, after I specifically mentioned on my invitation to “dress for the wonderful occasion” to come in party costumes. I meant button downs and slacks, not 1776 Boston sailor univforms! Perverts! I’ve made a formal complaint to the Tea Association of the United States to let everyone know about these mad men. I hope they are brought to justice soon.

Signing off quite angrily,

Maxim

The Tea Party

Lost iPhone 5 Just an Elaborate Rouse, Steve Jobs Tape Revealed

Carboard iPhone 5Apple is under investigation after a search conducted by San Francisco police for a lost iPhone 5 prototype turned out to be an elaborate rouse by the company in order to cover up the search an unrelated and undisclosed item. Apple reported that an employee lost the prototype at a bar. Police were suspicious of Apple after a raid on the man suspected of having the prototype’s house only turned up a sloppily painted piece of cardboard with a large Apple logo on it. Three Apple employees allegedly involved with the cover-up came forward to confess to police. The employees, composed of members of Apple’s security department, released a statement to the press.

“We will no longer be intimidated by Steve Jobs and Apple. We’ve given up our families, our lives for this company, all to hide Steve’s dirty secrets. No one cares, dude! A lot of guys have the same problem. Just deal with it. Let it go. Tell them about the tape already!”

The internet is abuzz with rumors about the contents of the tape. Most think it shows what a dick Steve Jobs actually is outside his keynote presentations at cult of Apple gatherings. We caught up with a current Apple employee familiar with the situation to help shed some light on the situation. “Steve is a dick, we don’t need a video evidence for that. It’s a sex tape. A sex tape of Steve Jobs from 1977 with a former fling of his, Chrisann Brennan.” When asked if he knew what “problem” the whistle-blowing employees were referring to the source said he didn’t know for sure, but had “heard that he, you know, ended the party early. Very, very, early. He’s been trying to prove that he doesn’t ever since…that’s why he’s so skinny”.

The former Apple security agents told police that in order to get the warrant to raid the suspected man’s apartment, they paid and dressed up a bum to take the piece of cardboard equipped with a GPS locator to the bar. The bum then slipped it to the man suspected of having the embarrassing sex tape.

No word on if they recovered the tape from the man’s house in the raid, but pre-ejaculating guru Steve Jobs is reported to have gained five pounds since the incident.
I Believe You, STEVE

For more information visita a real news source.

The Great Heist

Last week, I had announced that I had discovered the reason for the recent flurry of natural disasters occurring on the east coast of the United States. My Japanese girlfriend that I had taken to my home in an act of kindness, was actually a Japanese spy sent to reek havoc on the country I hold so dear. I vowed that I would have my revenge. After days of careful planning, I gave those ninja spies a little taste of their own medicine. What unfolded will go down as one of the greatest heists in the history of the world. Here is my story.
The Heist

America, FUCK YEAH! You can stop worrying about the stranglehold those ninjas had on the rest of the world now. Maxim’s in control now.

Until next time,

Maxim

P.S. A strong and destructive typhoon did actually hit Japan this past weekend. It was the first time the prefecture got directly hit by a typhoon in thirteen years. Seriously, what is with all these strange weather coincidences and me?

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

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.

Mini Robots Out to Destroy Humanity

A VirusWhat do you see when you look at this picture? It has eight legs, a screw like base, geometric shaped body… I think if you asked any kid what they thought that was, they would say it looks like a robot. But no, you go to biology class, and they tell you that it’s something called a virus. They make us sick, even kill us. Scientists don’t even consider these things alive. Yet they believe that they’re totally natural beings.

When did we get so naive? It’s obvious what it is. This is a microscopic killer robot. There is no other explanation. These robots seek out targets and destroy them indiscriminately. The question is, who designed these robots and how do we stop them?

Are our scientists being controlled by alien beings? Lying to us about the nature of these things? We must find out, and soon… before we all catch another cold. I will investigate this breakthrough further…until then, may god help you.

Greatest Archeological Discovery In Last Century Found in Jerusalem

The BellA team has just announced that last week in Jerusalem they had uncovered one of the most astounding archeological finds of our time. The team, searching a series of ancient sewers under Jerusalem, found a half inch golden bell hidden among debris.   “It’s an astounding find” said Eli Shukron of the Israel Antiquities Authority, “You can only hope for a discovery like this in your lifetime. I’m quite thrilled that my team and I get a chance to research this brilliant object.”

It is easy to see why the bell is causing so much excitiment in the archeology world. When Shukron shook the bell for reporters yesterday, the sound was absolutley divine, and very familiar. The immediate consensus around the room was that the sound was almost exactly like the sound of when you bang two lego men together. “We came to the same conclusion.” Shukron explained. “The sound is so universal, so primal. Any child could recognize this sound.” The ramifications of this find could rock the basis of history. It’s a well known fact that the sound of two lego men are banging together can only occur when you are actually playing with legos, whether they be fighting, or when they run into each other by accident during deep space exploration. There is no other known way to reproduce the unique sound. To confirm the research teams suspicion, an X-ray was taken of the bell. This is what they found.
Bell X-ray
Legos were thought to be first created in 1932 by Danish Inventor Kirk Christiansen. The only possible explanation of this find is that Legos are far more ancient than anyone has ever dreamed. Researchers are pouring through all available information, trying to identify who’s bell this actually was, though they think they have found a very important clue. On the top of the bell is a small loop which they believe was the mark of a Jerusalem brothel founded around the same period as the bell, named Legothiam. “This is a very important clue as to the origin of the bell, and perhaps all Legos. This specially designed loop was probably threaded, and embroidered into the clothes owned by the prostitutes. The sound was was probably a call to men of the city to come to the brothel, similar to today.”

We have contacted lego and they gave us this statement: “We are quite certain that Kirk Christiansen created Legos, and we are calling for a full investigation into the matter”.

Many questions still remain in this mystery, but it is no doubt that this will probably rewrite history as we know it.

For more coverage on this story, please visit these reputable news sources:

Boston Globe

USA Today

A Dirty Trick at Summer Camp

Childhood innocence.A large portion of this blog so far has been realizations of wrong doing from my childhood. As a child you may not realize how your actions affect the world around you. Most things are easily forgotten, and many times you just think of serious major events in your life as funny or even hilarious. Yesterday, as I laid in bed I suddenly remembered one of these days. What transpired was ethically and morally wrong and probably illegal. I was a major player in the operation and I loved every second of it. However, at my young malicious young age, I hadn’t quote realized the possible ramifications of my actions and the actions of others. Oh, innocence.

It was around the summer of ’95, at a one week sleep away camp in near Providence, Rhode Island. As with most summer camps, it was equipped with a large natural lake for swimming in. I loved swimming, so naturally this was my favorite part of the day. Every 15 to 20 minutes or so, the lifeguards would blow a whistle; we would then have to find our buddy, hold and raise our hands in the air so they knew everyone was accounted for. Pretty standard. Here’s where the story gets interesting.
Buddy CheckOne day, me and my buddy were getting ready for a nice long session of swimming when one of the lifeguards approached us. He asked us if we could help him with special project, and it was very important. Of course, as a lifeguard is supposed to be a very trustworthy individual, we agreed. He then took us to the woods and told my friend to pull down his trunks. Woah, wait, sorry, sorry. That’s not how it went. Let me continue the real story. He wanted my friend to go out and play in the lake for a couple of minutes, while he wanted me to go hide out in a shed until the next buddy check. Then during the next buddy check, he wanted my friend to go up to a lifeguard and tell him I was missing. We thought this was awesome. We were gonna trick everyone in the camp that I was drowning or dead. I was excited, he was excited. This was going to be great, and boy was it ever.
Lifeguard
I was brought to the shed. A man was inside. His “thing” was gorging. He told me to pull down my trunks and show him my tight… woah, what the fuck. Where are these outbursts coming from? I must apologize as it is ruining the integrity of my story. Anyway, I was only in there for about 5 minutes but it felt like hours. Finally, the whistle blew and they started the buddy check. As planned, my friend came out and told the lifeguards that he couldn’t find me anywhere. And boy, was he convincing. I could hear the pain and worry in his voice. I could see the fear in his eyes. He was on the brink of tears. He deserved an oscar for that performance. Thats when all hell broke loose.

They made all the campers get out of the lake. The counselors, panicked, got in in a big line, and began combing the waters, diving around, all frantickly searching for me. A couple were crying hysterically. I couldn’t contain my laughter. This went on for about 3 minutes, just to the point where they all thought I was dead. One of the lifeguards then came to get me out of the shed, and presented me to the nearly dead from panic counselors. The missing camper, safe all along. They were incredibly relived of course. I got a few head locks, noogies, and “Urrrghh, youuu” while in tears from them. My memory kind of fades off after that, but me and my friend were thoroughly proud of ourselves. For some reason my butt hurt as well.

Now zoom back to today. As an adult I can put this event into some perspective. How fucked up was that? I mean seriously, making people thing a kid is dead? Drowned in a lake? And this wasn’t something they could do every week, or even every summer. It wouldn’t be believable that way. This is something that had have been never done before at the camp. Those lifeguards came up with it to fuck with everybody’s minds. To “train” them. I wonder what kind of ass munching these guys got from the counselors after that big drill of theirs. I wonder if they were fired. I still love those guys for giving me that amazing “get to see everyones reactions after your death” experience. It was awesome. I just didn’t understand at that age that child molestation, I mean, that that kind irresponsible action was probably not acceptable. I hope I’m mature enough to understand it now.

-Maxim