Everything is wrong with me
Thursday, September 29, 2005
 
shame, search terms, links, complaints, music, nfl picks
Yesterday after work, I went to my local Duane Reade pharmacy to pick up a prescription (bless you Nexium for healing my embattled stomach and scarred esophageal lining!). The pharmacy is always in the back, away from the other cash registers. Often times when there's a line at the cash registers at the front of the store, shoppers can head back to the cash register at the pharmacy to get rung up, because there's never a line there. But you can also go there if you're buying something secret.

Like condoms for example. When I started buying condoms, I would always go to the pharmacy register, because there was rarely ever anyone there and the whole process of buying condoms MORTIFIED me. I didn't start having sex until college, probably because I went to an all guy's high school where I was the fattest I've ever been in my life, wore circle John Lennon-type glasses, had braces for six years, had long hair that went down to my chin and did a little flip at the tips, and wore a fur cape to most social functions (god I wish I was kidding). Oh, and I didn't drink. But then I got a haircut, got the braces off, lost some weight, etc and went to college and things started improving, due in no small part because I started drinking - a lot. So the moral: if you're not getting laid, drink more. And ditch the fur cape.

But buying condoms always bothered me. If possible, I'd have a roommate or friend do it, just because I felt so awkward. When I had to buy them, I'd always go to the farthest pharmacy from where I lived, for fear that otherwise I'd run into someone I knew as I bought a bar of Irish Spring and a Econo-pack of Trojans.

[I eventually got over this fear. Years later, I was with a girl I was pseudo-dating at the time and we went to buy condoms and food for her cat. The two of us were in line getting checked out by an 80-something year-old woman. As she rang up the condoms, then the cat food, she casually remarked, "Kitty's getting fed tonight, eh?" I gave an awkward smile before running outside and throwing up everywhere. Incredibly uncomfortable. Since then, I've been ordering condoms by mail. You know, just in case.]

So there I was at the back register, not buying anything secret, but getting my prescription. I didn't notice someone was behind me until the Indian guy at the register looked behind me and said, "Last name?" (as in, what is your last name so I can get you your prescription).

I turned around and there was a girl my age, a cute, petite brunette. I was checking her out, giving her the once over and sending out "the vibe", when I saw what she was buying. It was a pregnancy test.

My eyes must have bulged when I saw the pregnancy test that was clutched to her chest, because when our eyes met she gave me a terrified look, as if to say "You have no idea how much I wish you didn't see this". I looked back at her and gave her an awkward smile, hoping to cover up my shock. I stepped out of the way and she moved past me to pay. I then walked down one of the aisles so I wouldn't have to see her again (for her sake, not mine).

I got my prescription and left, but I couldn't help feeling bad for the girl. She's gotta be dealing with some pretty heavy shit, and then here I am: some fat dude at the pharmacy, looking at her like a crazy person because she's buying a pregnancy test. Kick her while she's down, while don't I.

The moral of the story is that when you're in your local Duane Reade, CVS, Rite-Aid or whatever and you're paying in the back by the pharmacist, realize that this is a high vulnerability area and please, proceed with caution. And most importantly, don't judge. As a friend once said, "When you're judging, you're not loving." So don't do it.

Now let's move on before I get too sad about that girl.

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End of the month: search terms time. For those just joining us, below are search terms entered into Yahoo, Google, etc that brought people to this site.

First, since I have a big ego, some about me:

- jason mulgrew killed a hooker once
- homosexual urinal penis jason beer Mulgrew
- jason mulgrew loser and wizard of nothing but cheese
- jason mulgrew is single for a reason
- jason mulgrew likes pakistani people
- jason mulgrew loves hooker sweat
- jason mulgrew is so hot... just kidding
- jason mulgrew's fantasy football team is awful
- jason mulgrew hairy penis monster
- why won't jason mulgrew suck my dick anymore
- jason mulgrew eats dead babies after he runs out of pizza and hotdogs
- jason mulgrew ate a school bus full of children
- jason mulgrew retarded mustard [Editor's Note: ???]

If it was pretty obvious before that some of you were entering these terms yourself in order to get them listed on here, it's very, very obvious now. Although those last four really took it to the next level ("Why won't Jason Mulgrew suck my dick anymore?" - that's pretty good).

- old man uncle rubbing the breasts of underage girls
- i got hpv from a handjob
- lindsay lohan falconry
- pressure point thigh sex
- written tips for women how to suck men balls
- wife no longer desirable
- drunk karate
- derrida and deconstructionalism
- little mermaid pastor gets aroused
- butt deodorant
- fat chick choking on a chicken wing
- my teeth smell like vomit
- met this hot southern mom at the shopping mall. i could tell she wasn't from around here. just hearing her southern accent made my cock hard. i invited her back to my place for a good ol southern dinner. watch what i give her for dessert [Editor's Note: !!!]
- ever had blood in your panties after sex
- making fire dick sex tip

The only thing that strikes me about the list above is: how disappointed must the person who googled "Derrida and Deconstructionalism" have been to find this website? Further, when the hell did I ever write about Derrida and Deconstructionalism?

The answer: when talking about my 25th birthday party. I actually had an open invite, listing the time and location of the party on the site. I figured that some readers of this site might come, so I wrote:

[NB: Please be advised that by midnight, I should be completely out of commission and unable to speak, recognize basic shapes and colors, or go to the bathroom without assistance. I can not stress this enough. I will be severely incapacitated, so if you come expecting to have conversations with me about Jacques Derrida's linguistic deconstructionalism, the similarities between the Popish Plot in seventeenth century England and McCarthyism in 1950's America, or even about whether or not I'm having a good time or if I like sandwiches, you will be severely disappointed.]
So there's your Derrida and Deconstructionalism.

And though I didn't write about this, I was feeling pretty confident that at least some people who I didn't know but read the site would show up at this party, going so far as to bet my roommate Ben $50 that a reader I didn't know would come. And I lost. No one random came to my b-day party. :(

But it's ok. This was way back in July of 2004, when about 50 people read the site (and I knew 45 of them) and I was still making stupid comments on high traffic blogs, making myself sound like a douche. Ah, the good old days.

...

Anyway - what were we talking about again?

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Some links:

- Mark from Michigan sends us "Troy's Mixtape of Love". Funny, but something like SIXTEEN MINUTES long. What a sorry SOB.
- Anna from Indiana gives us something much more useable: a sex dictionary. Look it up - it's all there.
- Finally, I stumbled upon this one myself: baseball de-motivational posters. Very funny stuff.

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About my post about "Grizzly Maze" and Timothy Treadwell: I'm amazed - nay, shocked - at how much "hate" mail came in about that post.

I don't mean hate mail as in, "You fat Irish Catholic son of a bitch. Why don't you have a drink and then go to mass, you prick! Better yet, why don't you take your tiny penis and stick it in a ham!" A number of emails came in that went something like:

Dude,

Ok, I get it. You read a book and liked it. Congratulations. Where's the funny? Get back to what works: fat jokes and racism. God you suck anymore.
So we're going to institute a rule: you can't complain unless you've donated. Remember, this shit is free. And remember, I've done almost 800 pages of it, almost every day, for the past nineteen months. So I think I'm allowed every once in a while to write about something that interests me (aside from shit, porn, booze, and food, of course).

If you have a problem, come back tomorrow. Or come back in a few weeks (I take time off from some of my favorite blogs because they get old to me, though admittedly they are nowhere near as awesome as this one). But if you're going to voice your opinion, going out of your way write an email to tell me that I or post or the site sucks, you have to donate first. To complain about something free that I work (mildly) hard on and so dutifully give you several times a week, risking life, limb, and employment, while you have never given me a handjob, beejer, or any semi-sexual homo/heterosexual act, takes a LOT of balls. So a) give, b) shut up, or c) come back tomorrow or later. Thank you.

[N.B.: If you've sent me pictures of your boobies, you can complain. But only if the boobies were nice. If they were all sloppy and shit, looking like two plastic bags filled with ground beef, then you can't complain. Maybe take a picture of your friend's nice boobies and then we'll negotiate.]

[N.B. again: And I know you give me intangible things, like reading the site, passing it on, spreading the word, etc. But I come from a broken home, so I measure everything in terms of tangible things. So unless you've given me the physical act of love or cash to buy said physical act of love, well, forget it.]

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Six Songs

"Nothing Matters When We're Dancing" The Magnetic Fields
This song makes me sad. And makes me think of ballroom dancing in a field in the snow. I don't know where I'm going with this, but it's a pretty song.

"Kick Drum" G Love & Special Sauce
I woke up to this song every morning for two years. A terrific choice. I also tormented my friend Nicole for about three years with the line "Talkin' 'bout a girl named Nicky Nick suckin' on my..."

"I Broke Up" Xiu Xiu
This is terrible, terrible music. I downloaded a bunch of this guy's stuff, and I seriously can't understand how anyone could possibly like this. I think I'm pretty cool about letting people do their own thing and not judging them, but if you like this music, you and I can NOT be friends. I am sure you're devastated by this loss.

The only reason I have it included on here is because at about :28 into the song, he screams out "Don't fuck with me! Don't fuck with me!" like a goddamn crazy person. Then, at about 1:16, he starts screaming, "This is the worst vacation ever!" It's not good, and it's not exactly funny and not exactly scary, but it's definitely worth a listen. I really don't know what else to say about it.

"853-5937" Squeeze
Probably the finest singular example of mid-80's Brit pop-rock (and I'm not at all an authority on the subject). If you like harmonies, tasteful synth/organ/piano, and songs about cheating girlfriends written around an answering machine message, then this is the song for you. I have no idea why more people aren't into this band (one of my top ten favorites, or as Squeeze would spell it, favourites).

"I Just Can't Get Enough" Depeche Mode
If there were a list of "Most Homosexual Songs of the '80's", this song would rank about #31. So that says something about how many gay-inspired songs there were in the '80's.

"That's How Strong My Love Is" Otis Redding
I know I've pimped this before, but you have to listen to it because a) it's the most beautiful love song ever; and b) it's going to be my wedding song.

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Well, it's official: my mom is kicking my ass in our weekly NFL picks competition. In week two, she edged me out by one game, going 7-8-1 to my 6-9-1. But last week she opened up a can of whoop ass and went an astounding 9-4-1, while her know-it-all son picked an embarrassing 3-10-1. Ouch.

So for the season, my mom, who knows nothing about football aside from colors and team names, is leading me 16-12-2 (57%) to 9-19-2 (32%). This is going exactly how I'd hoped it would go; I'm proving that gambling is entirely random and based solely on luck. Or I'm proving that I suck at gambling. I guess I'm doing both. Onto this week...

My picks:

PATRIOTS -5.5 over Chargers
JAGUARS -4 over Broncos
Texans +9.5 over BENGALS
TITANS +7 over Colts
CHIEFS -2 over Eagles
Lions +6.5 over BUCS
Rams +3 over GIANTS
SAINTS over pk Bills
Seahawks +2 over REDSKINS
Jets +7.5 over RAVENS (How can the spread be this high? The game might end 0-0)
Vikings +6 over FALCONS
RAIDERS -3.5 over Cowboys
49ers +2.5 over CARDINALS

My mom's picks:

PATRIOTS -5.5 over Chargers
Broncos +4 over JAGUARS
BENGALS -9.5 over Texans
TITANS +7 over Colts
Eagles +2 over CHIEFS
Lions +6.5 over BUCS
GIANTS -3 over Rams
Bills pk over SAINTS
Seahawks +2 over REDSKINS
RAVENS -7.5 over Jets
Vikings +6 over FALCONS
Cowboys +3.5 over RAIDERS
49ers +2.5 over CARDINALS

Me Last Week: 3-10-1
Me Season: 9-19-2 (32%)

Mom Last Week: 9-4-1
Mom Season: 16-12-2 (57%)



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