I Am Not An Animal

Hmm. I'd like to think that I'd notice a 40 pounder growing inside of Ol' Fatboy. Hey, maybe not, there's a lot of fatness to contend with.

This segues nicely into some of the fativities that occurred last night. Firstly, Ol' Fatboy and the Professor went to a nice, local dive bar we've been frequenting for a while now (10 years). While there, we saw "The Nut". He's a bartender that works at said bar, and has a ball the size of a coconut. Never ceases to amaze us when we see it, and we regaled another friend with tales of "The Nut" for a few hours afterwards.

Secondly, and lastly, we were delighted to be entertained by an Indian gentleman playing the citar for us as we dined on Indian food. The Professor has a thing for citars apparently, but wasn't phased when the waitress ripped the heart out of the woman at the table next to us and ate it. Weird.

Fat Goggles

Quite a few "studies" done these days about various stuff. Most of the time the conclusions that are drawn are pretty obvious and the study probably didn't need to be done at all. There is something to be said for conventional wisdom and the wisdom of crowds.

So imagine my surprise when I ran into this one. Ok, fine. You put up a bunch of pictures of chicks, and drunk or sober I will most likely have the same opinion about their attractiveness, but you failed to mention my desire to go hoggin'.

After 1 beer: "Eh, she's not that cute and her ass is kinda fat."
After 2 beers: "Man, I haven't gotten laid in a while."
After 3 beers: "Skinny girls are all boney and usually have no tits."
After 4 beers: "Hmm, I bet she doesn't look that bad naked."
After 8 beers: (Recalls he's out of condoms) "Do I even need them? She's clean I bet."
After 10 beers: "I would fuck Hillary Clinton right now. I'm taking this girl home."

Next morning: "Morning. I'm fat, you're fat, let's go grab breakfast."

Moneyballs?

Moneyball. No, not the ball you play with before the money shot. I'm talking the book about sabermetrics and how it was used to build successful Oakland A's teams after its implementation.

Pretty dorky huh? Not much of a plot, more of a documentary in book form. Believe Ol' Fatboy, I've read it twice. So pardon my surprise here. Has Hollywood really run out of all the better ideas for a movie?

And Brad Pitt sucks, I don't care what the reviewers say. Soderbergh is starting to suck too. Ok, I'm done. I feel better.

Four Two Zero

Happy Stoner Day everyone! Ol' Fatboy here didn't really know too much about the significance of April 20th until about a week ago, honestly. I didn't think stoners could be organized enough to have a holiday. But I digest...

Gotta find my way to the dog park over in Alphabet City. I bet there's some solid canine stoning going on over there. The thing I don't get here is why did the kid ditch the rest of the muffins in a park somehwere? There wasn't a dumpster around? Or, more importantly, you couldn't save them and party some more later in the week? I'm brimming with questions.

Red Fat Chili Peppers

I've done some stupid shit in my life. I know it, you know it, my parents sure know it. But I can safely say I never rubbed chili peppers in my eyes to set a record.

I'm struggling to get my head around why anyone would do this. And the world record? Can't I just go out and get some oranges or something and claim that I set the world record for rubbing oranges in my eyes?

Arabian Goggles Cooper

Well, you would know, Anderson. It's a poorly kept secret that Gloria Vanderbilt's son plays for the other team. Which makes this a Freudian slip if you ask me. But why does he have trouble talking when he's tea bagging? They don't call it Arabian Goggles because it covers your mouth, sheesh. Hmpf.

Hair of the Fat

Come on, did you really think scientists would "discover" that bacon cures hangovers and expect me not to write about it? That's just crazy talk.

Ol' Fatboy would've been happy to be the guinea pig in this study. I got shitfaced last night and could've used a bacon sangwich today, but alas, it just didn't happen. So I kept my hangover until lunchtime, where it was squashed by Mongolian grill. I then shit lightning approximately 25 minutes later.