About the time I think I might have maybe been picked up at a gay bar

I prefer to avoid LA at all costs. It's smoggy, elitist and I feel like I need about six more 0s at the end of my income to feel important in that town; that's a feeling no one should ever have.

At the same time, you can walk out the front door and instantly be surrounded by five incredibly hot chicks. Even the dogs in LA are fucking attractive.

One night I met up with some college buddies to go out in Hollywood. I've been reading all about Tucker Max's exploits and now feel I can conquer the fucking world. I wanted to go test my new knowledge by playing the best fucking wingman ever.

We went out to a bar in a strip mall that seemed kinda cool. One of the guys we were with knew the bartender and we were doing shots and being rowdy and looking for chicks to pick up.

And then I had one of those moments right out of Chasing Amy.

(4:50-5:25 mark)

It was ALL DUDES!!! It wasn't that it was a weekday night. It wasn't that it was a sports bar. I was at a gay bar.

Cool. No prob. Had a good laugh at the slow realization of it all.

And then when a tall, handsome man approaches me and ask me if he knows me from somewhere, I think I might be having my first I'm-getting-picked-up-at-a-gay-bar moment.

Granted, I was very friendly when I told him I never lived in Florida, don't know anyone who lives in Florida and have not been to Florida in about 20 years.

We then left and found a bar that had girls and karaoke and $16 pitchers of beer (FUCK LA!) and I fucking nailed my wingman status with two cute girls new to the area (they're from Chicago and sounded like Chris Farley from the Ditka SNL skit). They were both cute and totally DTF!

OK. LA's kinda cool. Then I went into a store where they sell $125 t-shirts and the woman working there was among the hottest chicks I've ever seen. This town is fantastic.

Why Pasta Pomodoro totally sucks at being a restaurant

Hey kids, JMC here to tell you a cautionary tale: don't go to fucking Pasta fucking Pomodoro.

A few weeks back it was my girlfriend's birthday. She wasn't too happy about it either. You know, getting older can kinda make people grumpy. So the day was pretty much doomed to begin with because when my girlfriend is unhappy it makes the grim reaper look like a kitten and going to war in Iraq sound pretty fun.

We spent most of the day hungover having been to a pretty great wedding the night before, and never ended up doing much. I kept asking her (for weeks ahead of time) what she wanted to do and she never came up with anything. So finally here we are on the big day and we're having breakfast wraps at Starbucks and sitting on the couch most of the day. I took the day off work for this?

So dinner time rolls around and of course she hasn't decided where to go and doesn't want me to take her out to a nice restaurant because she's not feeling that great and is unhappy so why waste a nice dinner? Fuck me with a blunt object. Next thing I know she decides we're going to Pasta Pomodoro because she has a coupon for a free appetizer or dessert.

I fucking hate Pasta Pomodoro. The food is only okay, the service is mediocre, and the ambiance is nothing to write home about. And then it costs 40 bucks. But that's where we're going because she for some reason likes it. It must be the bread. The bread and that dipping sauce are actually pretty bomb.

So we drive out to PP (I'm calling it that from now on because it's less typing), and get a table. Luckily there was no wait. If there was a wait I probably would have jumped in front of a car. We sit down, eat the bread (best part of the night) and peruse the menu. We choose our entrees and then pick the polenta for our free appetizer. The waitress isn't nearly cute enough to get away with being as annoying as she is but manages to apparently take our order correctly. Of course I think we were sitting there for like five minutes before we had waters. Fucking PP. So we're sitting there and not really talking about anything and finally the food comes, except they fucked up and the polenta doesn't come out first. It is an appetizer, it is supposed to keep us from eating our napkins while we wait for the real food, it should be out there first. PP sucks.

They bring the polenta and the main course at the same time, or maybe the polenta was after the main course, either way it was fucked up. I'm at this point ready to go on Yelp and give this shit-hole zero stars or however you rank shit on Yelp. So my dinner is fine but of course there's something wrong with hers. She, in an effort to always make life more difficult, of course asked for her shit to be prepared in some special way, extra creamy sauce or something. And they gave her regular creamy sauce. She fucking sends it back. So we start eating the polenta and my food. My food is fine, but I could probably make pasta that's just as good at home for 12 cents. We try the polenta. It's bland and not very good but fine. The girlfriend decides there's something wrong with it and it's awful and horrible and can't be right. There's absolutely nothing wrong with this polenta except for the fact that it's polenta from PP and PP pretty much sucks so of course the polenta is going to be mediocre. But she's convinced there's something wrong with it and fucking sends it back. They offer to make it again and she declines. Her food comes back and this time it's right. She then eats two thirds of her dinner and decides to take the rest home.

So the waitress acts like a ditz, sort of apologizes for fucking up our whole dinner, and then sends the manager over. She also is not cute enough. She offers us free dessert in place of the crappy appetizer. The girlfriend declines. She then asks the manager to take something off the bill, and the manager says her entree will be free. Great, we can get the fuck out of this shitty restaurant. But wait, where's the leftover pasta? The waitress has taken it away instead of bringing a box. My girlfriend is on the verge of tears. I am ready to find a steak knife and tear open my abdomen. The waitress says she must have thrown it out, but she'll make us a new entree. Then she goes in the back and comes back out with the leftovers in a box. Its a miracle! She didn't throw it out after all. She probably just took it out of the garbage. And then spit in it. And got Karl with a K to jerk off into it. And then Karl with a K spit in it too.

So I pay the bill, which at this point is like 10 bucks since its just for one entree, score, and we get the fuck out. Great fucking birthday. Fuck you Pasta Pomodoro.

Reno: The Biggest Little Mistake in the World

What happens in Reno stays in Vegas.

Saturday we headed up to a Reno for a night of gambling, drinking, titties and vomit. It's an annual trip where we head up with a large group of guys and girls and have one mission: win a hundred million dollars while getting so unbelievably wasted you'd get a DUI for driving two days later.

Our game is blackjack and blackjack is the devil's game. Even if you play by basic strategy you're going to lose the second payment on your mortgage. I had one hand that made me want to go all Rae Carruth on the dealer.

Dealer showed a five up and I had two sevens. Split those motherfuckers and on the first I get an ace and the second I get another seven. Split those fuckers, too. I then get a face card and an eight and stayed. Dealer flips over his down card and shows paint. With 15 he hits and gets an ace. 16. Then this ass goblin hits and pulls a five. 21. I was ready to commit seppuku with a roulette wheel.

Meanwhile, everyone was really drunk and the girls had dresses on and shit and looked good and the single guys and the single girls did exactly what single guys and single girls should do in Reno.

Elsewhere, we went to the worst strip club/ cabaret in the biggest little whorehouse in the world. Cover was $10 and then we get put in a MOTHERFUCKING WAITING ROOM. A fucking waiting room. Then the waitress comes by and asks what I wanted to drink. Already down four hundred thousand dollars I asked for tap water. They say they only have bottled water and kindly mention there's a two-drink minimum. What is this shit? A fucking comedy club? We left before my $7 bottle of water came and before the bouncer could come turn me into part of the road.

No one actually puked but two dudes who came with us didn't go to sleep and were still drinking beer at 9:30 Sunday morning. Fantastic.

It was a good trip. I think I'm still drunk.

Common ways to piss off your significant other

It's hard work being a sports fan. We have to watch TV, know all the players' names and sound educated when giving an out-of-towner a scouting report on Travis Ishikawa (whose Achilles heel is swinging at the curve at his back foot).

But sports, too, are fun. Sometimes. When you live in Boston or go to the University of Florida. But also when you can spend 12 hours on the couch Saturday in October and watch endless college football while the only conversation you have with your significant other includes the key words "beer," "nachos," or "more."

We've been fighting with our girlfriend for the last two and half years. (Not actually. We've only been dating for two. HEY-O!) Much of it stems from not having enough time to give her all the attention she very much deserves. A lot of it is because we watch the Giants struggle to pound out four hits for three hours. Priorities.

So, what are your most common reasons for fighting with the missus? Your domestic problems (and ways to deal with them) in the comments, please.

One night of stand-up: who ya seeing?

The Phils and Jays are playing the "Give us him! Nope, he's off limits, how about him instead?" game which is about as exciting as reading a Dictionary; the Cubs are streaking; some guys got inducted into the HOF...boring sports weekend if you ask us.

Instead, let's talk about stand-up comedy. Love it. You get drunk and are in an atmosphere where you're giggly before anyone starts talking. Can't watch it on TV -- something about being there in person makes a huge difference.

We saw D.L. Hughley a while back -- very funny! -- and have upcoming tickets to go see KEVIN FUCKING NEALON! (We're big into Weeds).

Your Monday question: if you have one night to see ANY comedian, who are you seeing?

-Consider the size of the room/crowd. (You're not going to see Chris Rock at a dive comedy club, for example.)
-Price is not an issue
-You're seeing this person in their peak
-You're drinking but not wasted

Give us your people (and any appropriate YouTube clips) in the comments.

Stop doing your back rows on the upright bench, you fucking asshole

Gym etiquette was at an all-time low Wednesday.

The gym was fucking packed, smelled like the inside of a vagina that had just been shit in and was hotter than a sauna. Bad start.

It's late, I'm tired, I'm in a shitty mood and all I want to do is get in and out of the gym, hassle free.

It's my time for some shoulder press. For that exercise, I (and everybody else on this fucking planet) prefer a bench with a short back, like pictured above. My gym has two of these benches.

I go to the bench and see another dude standing by it, yet it's not marked with a towel or anything. I ask him if he's using it, sort of putting my stuff down as I ask. He says that he is. I ask him how many sets he has and he says he just started. OK, whatever, I'll come back.

Then as I move on with my workout, I see Fuckface doing this:


You fucking cocksucker. There are like five of those flat benches at my gym, yet this joke decided to do his rows on one of two benches clearly NOT designed for rows. And he did like 10 FUCKING SETS!!! I had to use some shitty bench not designed for shoulder press (but probably perfectly designed for rows).

Go jump off Niagara Falls, you piece of shit.

Pick the Perp Contest Results

Fun times at picktheperp.com. We had two winners -- see, that shit is hard! -- who could successfully identify the criminal.

Big ups go out to Sean Falese and Bobby Hundley for getting three in a row. Neither of them wanted the porn links. We're surprised, too.

Pick the Perp Contest

Go to Pick the Perp. It is hilarious, awful, and surprisingly difficult all at the same time. If you get three in a row, we'll give you the normal choice of prizes: guest post, link to your site, porn links. Send us a screengrab of the top right of the page where it says, "Best Streak," to verify that you know your police lineups. Reach us at zachls5@gmail.com. Good luck, detectives.

Best things a girl can say

Saw this thread on some message board and it was pretty funny. What's the best thing you can hear out of a girl's mouth?

Some of ours:

-Don't worry, it's not yours
-I got my period
-I just broke up with my boyfriend
-Is it cool if you don't wear a condom tonight?

Yours, please, in the comments.

My Life is Average

Lot of great websites out there that nobody has really heard of. And my "nobody," I mean "me," because the only non-sports websites I've heard of usually have the suffix XXX or cumonmyface.

One of those sites that I have heard of is Fuck You, Penguin. I don't think PETA would like this site.

Another was found by Jimmy at Hot Clicks yesterday: MyLifeIsAverage.com. It basically has submissions about mundane and average things in someone's life, because, well, most people live average lives.

Here are some to get the ball rolling:

-Today, I thought about taking an alternate route to work but instead took the normal one. My life is average.

-Today, a coworker said, "Have a good one." I said, "Thanks, you too." MLIA.

-Today I ran out of a jar of tomato sauce but found another one in the cupboard. MLIA.

Your MLIA's in the comments as well as other fun sites that nobody's heard of.

'...And for three hundred...'

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

A way to simultaneously kill Little Miss Piggy, Babe and the Three Little Pigs while having a heart attack

Also very Kosher.

Letters of Intent, fallen into the wrong hands

Happy National Signing Day, dick weasels! It's like Christmas morning, only with undeveloped, pimply-faced high school kids valued with stars instead of shiny new toys. We fucking love shiny shit.

We got our hands on some Letters of Intent and deleted the names for privacy purposes. Wouldn't want to, you know, get sued. Anyway, these are neat. College! Letters! Hooray!!!!

---------------------------------------

Dear Mr. Bowden,

I am pleased to announce my intent to attend Florida State University and to play football for your fine program. Unfortunately, sometime during my redshirt season, I plan to be arrested for doing drugs, getting in a fight, or sleeping with an underage girl in my dorm room. I'll also likely be put on academic probation, because, let me tell you, it's pretty hard to concentrate on your studies while your high, getting head from a high school senior and fighting with her boyfriend. At that point you'll probably have to kick me off the team. Anyway, looking forward to seeing you on campus!

Warm regards,

Top Recruit

---------------------------------------

Dear Mr. Paterno,

I do not intend to attend your university. Frankly, I'd like to play for a coach who I don't fear will die before I graduate. Good luck!

Best wishes,

Top Recruit

---------------------------------------

Dear Athletic Director,

I am pleased to announce my intent to attend your university and play for your football team. Unless of course you fire your coach, don't get funding for your new locker room complex, or if I don't start soon enough.

Fondly,

Top Recruit

---------------------------------------

Dear Coach,

I really enjoyed my recruiting visit, but the blow just wasn't pure enough for my taste, and one of the chicks you lined up for me refused to suck my dick after it had been in her friend's ass. What's up with that? Good luck getting top recruits with that attitude.

---------------------------------------

Dear Notre Dame,

Some university you have here! Lots of religious white people. I like that! And Charlie Weis is a nice man. I didn't get any other offers, so I'd like to give you my intent to join your team.

Psalms 19,

Top Recruit, #41

---------------------------------------

So there you have it. Pretty interesting stuff there. As for us, we would only have one thing to say if we were writing a letter of intent:

To whom it may concern,

We, the writers of The Big Picture, hereby declare our intent to not get caught.

A how-to on getting a good job

Had a phenomenal, laugh-out-loud, OMG, BRB, LMFAO, WOW, SFO, PHX, CHW, NYC, UPN email thread going this week.

Some context:

-The questions posed were mock questions that would be thrown to a manager at a summer camp.
-The names in the answers are real names, whom you won't know. Just go with it. It's funny. -Remember, summer camp. Jewish summer camp. Little kids. Little Jewish kids.

From D.O:

what three words describe you?
Right at this moment?... Drunk. High. Crowning.

why should I hire you?
Because I'll suck your dick. Just kidding. Because I'll kill you if you don't.

what makes a good counselor?
Being a good listener and a proactive problem solver. Like the time Absy Popple told me a kid was picking on him and I told him that maybe he should try not being such a fucking weirdo.

what makes a good manager?
Having a good command of when to use a double switch.

what's the hardest decision you've ever made?
Chicken or fish. Also this one time two of my campers were stuck in a burning outhouse and there was only time to save one of them, and I had to choose which would live and which would die.

do you work well under pressure?
Yes. For example, in the above situation, I was finally able to settle on fish.

From ALS:

what three words describe you?
Horny. Hung. Huge-dicked

why should I hire you?
‘Cause if you don’t give me this job, I’ll probably spend the summer working at Staples. And you can bet your ass you won’t be getting a friends-and-family discount.

what makes a good counselor?
Creativity and imagination come to mind. It takes a real special counselor to decide that using spray-painted cardboard over construction paper is the best way to re-enact Jesus’ crucifixion.

what makes a good manager?
Someone who can get the most out of his/her staff and can talk Molly Stewart-Cohn down from her reading tree.

what's the hardest decision you've ever made?
Whether to draft Nick Dale or Sam Justi on my team for Maccabia games. Dale was a shoe-in for “fastest camper,” but Justi’s enthusiasm could earn bonus points with the judges. I ended up taking Henry Gozan because Dale and Justi were off the board.

do you work well under pressure?
Not really, no. I get pretty stressed and usually take it out on the kids. Physically.

From JMC:

what three words describe you?
irresponsible, uninventive, hostile

why should I hire you?
because I have a great imagination, I take care of business, and I make the kids feel really warm and safe. Also, my parents gave a lot of money to the temple, so you kind of have to.

what makes a good counselor?
if I knew that, I'd probably be a better counselor

what makes a good manager?
someone who can motivate their staff to work hard, even if that means using cattle prods and whips

what's the hardest decision you've ever made?
whether or not to fuck that goat.

do you work well under pressure?
as long as I've had sex recently. even if it's with a goat.

From me:

what three words describe you?
lazy, unmotivated, anti-Semitic.

why should I hire you?
because if you don't, i might kill myself. that's not blood you want on your hands.

what makes a good counselor?
tight jeans, firm ass and great tits.

what makes a good manager?
someone who's willing to take a chance. like the time i decided to mix uppers and downers.

what's the hardest decision you've ever made?
olde english or steele. see, Ol' E is the shit and is thuggish in an Easy E, Boys N the Hood kind of way. Steele is more like Mickey's in that it's a white-man, private high-school kind of 40. Yet Steele is stronger. So do you gain the street cred with the Ol' E or get the extra buzz from Steele? To this day, I still don't know.

do you work well under pressure?
it's weird. i usually get the job done, but somebody usually gets hurt in the process.

Got the job!

So about the dentist

One of the worst ways to spend a day off? Go to the dentist.

There's a reason why dentists have a higher-than-normal suicide rate: they spend an entire day in someone's mouth and NOBODY FUCKING LIKES THEM.

Dentists are much like Meter Maids or Auditors -- they're always the fucking bad guy. Have you ever met someone who's like, "Ooh, I get to go to the dentist today! I'm going to bring them some peanut brittle and holiday wishes."

My dentist and dental hygienist are fine people. Nice, kind-spirited and great at small talk. But all my dentist and hygienist does is cause me pain.

Hygienist: I'm getting some bleeding.
Me: Really? Maybe it's because YOU'RE POKING ME WITH A SHARP FUCKING OBJECT!

I swallowed so much blood yesterday, I got a little weak. But when they give you that air tube to suck on, I fucking go after it the way a pornstar -- like the one above -- goes after a cock. Air has never been so satisfying. And when they swish a little water in there, I fucking lose it.

Of course they charge you an arm and leg for a trip, too. I coughed up nearly $300 dollars to get my gums violated with a dangerous weapon. And then the dentist looked at me for like 30 seconds:

Dentist: Are you taking any medication?
Me: No.
Dentist: Are you experiencing any pain?
Me: Aside from my gums feeling like they just went through a blender, no.
Dentist: All right, you're good to go.

That interaction cost 58 dollars.

The next thing you know, you're gonna have to start tipping. That'll be the day.

On the bright side, I got a new toothbrush. It's blue.

Get a Snuggie! It's the blanket with sleeves!

We don't watch a lot of weekday daytime TV, and when we do it's usually not the SciFi channel. But yesterday the network gave us the gift of a three-hour "Lost" marathon which we would've been fools to pass up. We didn't, but with nothing to turn to at the breaks, we found ourselves sitting through the commercials. More like infomercials, including this gem below.

Please take a look at this. This is not a "Saturday Night Live" skit. This is a real product.

So go out and get a Snuggie! The blanket with sleeves! One size fits all! Get a book light free! Only one easy payment of $19.95! It's all you need for your next cult meeting! Snuggie! Snuggie! Snuggie!

A short string of shitting emails

This is just too funny not to share with you.

Had a string of emails today from some buddies discussing the state of all of our bowels.

This email, in response on how to pump out better, cleaner shits, got me going pretty good:

Eat "good friends" Kashi. It's great. It has a picture of these two old people on the front. I guess because old people tend to have shitting problems. But the stuff is great. Start your morning off with 15 grams of fiber. I take these huge, red-ish shits and when I get off the pot I feel like Jared from the Subway commercials.

I eat beans galore, too. Beans don't have as much of the kind of fiber that makes you shit, but they have the kind that prevents heart attacks. So that's good too. At least that way you won't have a coronary while you're working out another disastrous turd.

I countered with this:

My shits have been strange lately.

often, i have to go like within an hour of when i get up. they're usually really fucking huge logs that get broken off and then smear mud-shit all over my asshole. it's usually like a half-roller and sometimes my ass starts to bleed cause i've wiped too much.

but lately, i haven't had the luxury of shitting in the morning because of work and not having the courage to shit while my lady's home. so i've been holding my shits in for up to like 3 hours. it's an awful feeling, but when i finally release my doom on the bathroom, my shits are more packed and crystallized. it's great. sometimes i think i have some feces wrapped around my intestines, but for the sheer convenience, it's a much quicker shit.

So there. A quick update on the state of my and my friends' bowels. Your sentiments welcomed in the comments.

IRONY!

The Taco Bell owner is British. That seems backwards.

(Yeah, we saw that hard-hitting interview by Chris Myers in the bottom of the sixth, too. Great work, FOX!)

WaMu advertising on blogs

We noticed a WaMu ad on our right sidebar yesterday. We thought that was funny for some reason.

Not sports, but funny

We would do Sarah Silverman. You?


The Great Schlep from The Great Schlep on Vimeo.