Kobe is My Old Hawaiian Island Creations Shirt; Putin Clearly Does Not Want to See Billie Jean King's Haircut; Obama and I Are Getting Cut-Off From Our Parents' Money Pretty Soon

Kobe Reminds Me of a Shirt I Own

Fourteen years ago a friend pilfered a Hawaiian Island Creations shirt from the mall for my birthday.  The half-naked mermaid on the back that reminded him of me exemplifies class that is only surpassed by Dame Judi Dench wearing a turtleneck to a cricket match.  It certainly told the world, "I have a 4.5 G.P.A., 1350 on my SAT, piano and dance awards at the national level, and am actively recruited by Wellesley".  It might surprise you to know I threw all that away to party my ass off at the University of Colorado at Boulder, because someone in ownership of such a shirt only makes solid life decisions.  I guess there is an exception to every rule.

I still wear that thing.  It is comfortable and I am familiar as fuck with it.  That shirt defines me.  I mean, not really, but when you see yourself in a shirt for fourteen years, it's difficult to imagine your life without it.  I put it on and think "yes, just as it was in high school".  

I've got some sort of self-diagnosed tee-shirt dysmorphic disorder when it comes to this thing, too.  It is nothing like it was in high school.  There are so many holes in this mother fucker.  I've yet to date a guy that thinks it's cute.  I mean, not even when I don't wear a bra with it and there's major side boob happening due to the excessive holes.

Kobe is that shirt.  He is not what he was in high school or even a few years ago.  He has so many holes in his legs.  We still wear him like nothing's wrong, oh but shit's wrong and nobody thinks it's cute save for those of us who are just so used to him from high school.  The more I wear and wash that shirt, the worse it gets.  The more we play and rehab Kobe, the less he can take.  I'm never going to give this shirt away, but I think I should retire it.  You know the Kobe analogy I'm going to make now, so I won't bother insulting your intelligence.

If you're curious as to what happened to my friend: he was selling meth and managing a Domino's somewhere in Webster last time I heard of him.  He stole a shirt with a half-naked chick on the back, because he thought she looked like me, y'all; he's pretty much meeting all the expectations we had of him, let's be real.

Oh, look who got put out to pasture with some kick ass sunglasses!

Putin on the Ritz for these Olympics

Alright, first, the United States announces the Obamas, Bidens, nor any former U.S. presidents or VPs will attend the Sochi olympics; rather, we are sending Billie Jean King amongst others.   If you're not familiar with the optical atrocities her hair committed over the years, take a gander at the Google image search.  Next thing I know, Putin plans to pardon Khodorkovsky and Pussy Riot no longer has to taste the shitty food Red makes.

Red's hair is better than BJK's.  Truth.

I don't think anybody thought Billie Jean King's terrible choices in follicular styling would ever aid in international human rights activism, but facts are facts.  All that news came way too soon after we announced Billie Jean King's hair would rep us at the olympics.  I mean, Putin is willing to put aside his personal differences with both dudes and chicks in an effort to appease BJK's hair.  I'm all about it.  Maybe we can send Miley to Syria and people will just start getting along to keep her weird outfits the hell out of town.

Don't Worry, Obama, We All Get Cut-Off Eventually

Dude, Obama.  My mom's been threatening to cut me off for months now, too.  I keep managing to push it while I focus on things I want to do, but I think it's time we both bite the bullet and realize we're gonna need to get some sort of job instead of constantly borrowing money we can't pay back to cover our expenses.  Look, we both went to law school, we look damn good in a suit, and can shark the shit out of tank full of yuppies.  We totally have the acumen and creativity to get through this.  I'm scared, you're scared, but scared money don't make money.  I hear the Whole Foods on Santa Monica and Fairfax is always hiring.  I can pick you up an application when I go to get one.  Let me know.  I got you, boo.

In other news, can we focus on getting highly-educated people jobs, too?  Factory workers aren't the only ones suffering.  Nothing worse than hearing you're "too smart" and "over-qualified" as the reason you're about to be on the streets.  Apparently nobody can create jobs for those of us with advanced degrees.  

John Kerry May or May Not Go to Egypt in the Same Way I May or May Not Do My Laundry This Week

A friend of mine in undergrad met John Kerry; he was one of the "chosen few" that got to participate in a Q&A with the presidential candidates at the time.  My friend couldn't stand Kerry, but that might be because he is a staunch republican, which is noted by the fact he is insanely good looking and also enjoys things like Denver penthouses and unprotected sex.  If I remember correctly, he told me that Kerry came off as incredibly arrogant.  In other news, my friend now designs black teapots and kettles.  Just kidding, he's actually incredibly wealthy, working as a consultant, and living about one hundred times better than I am.  Time for me to shut-up about that and get to the point.

It should come as no shock that we, as Americans, Rulers of the Universe, and Purveyors of Democracy, are all about securing Egypt, so we can: exert some control over a region that would keep Israel on our "good side"; have control over the Suez Canal, since everyone loves a good short-cut; have as many Arabs on our side as we can get, and Egypt has a scientific fuck ton of them.  

By the power of Greyskull, let's get right with Egypt!

Back in July, Egypt got rid of their democratically elected president (who we didn't like anyway) and ever since then, we've slowly been neglecting them, much like I neglect my laundry.  John Kerry, our most esteemed Secretary of State, decided it is time to start thinking about going to Egypt and assuring our interests are secured.  Dude, you don't spill red wine on your white silk blouse, throw it in the laundry for a few months, and think that shit is going to come out easily afterward.  

I wish I could do a Q&A with Secretary Kerry.  I would ask him the following: "Once, I let my dirty laundry pile up so much that my roommate got fucking pissed at what our shared closet looked like and did my laundry for me.  We rarely spoke after that.  How do you think our roommates are gonna feel when they have to go to Egypt with $260M worth of rolls of quarters (and, mind you, I don't think Whole Foods can change that much into quarters for us) and take care of our dirty laundry in Egypt?  Bad enough we're barely on speaking terms with them now.  Where are we going to live if they kick us out?  Do we have enough money saved up to even move to Jupiter, yet?  We can't just vacate the world once we get into a fight with our roommates.  We really need to handle this mess in Egypt before our laundry spills over into Israel, 'cos the last thing we need are more angry roommates."

I can't even believe this guy is merely thinking about going to Egypt this week; he needs to hurry up and do it.  I mean, sure, things are starting to pile up in Egypt and in my laundry hamper, but I guess we have enough clean underwear and Arabs for now?  

John Kerry's and my life.

France is that Crazy Chick We Keep Making Out With at Parties When We're Drunk

I think my period synched with France's, because every time I hear them bitching about us, I'm on my period.  Heyyyyy, guess who has their period right now?!  I do.  I have it right now.  I guess that means it's that time of the month for France to get all hormonal on America.

France is that hot chick we dated, but remains crazy.  That country where we see pictures of her partying on a yacht in a bikini with other hot chicks and think, "whatever, girl, 'you a bad girl and ya friends bad, too', but you're always trippin' about some shit."  Sometimes, we get drunk and mess around with her again, but regret it when she starts pulling crazy moves.  This is why we can’t be together, France.

Super hot.  Super talented.  Super progressive.  Oh, but also super nuts.  France, meet your celebrity anthropomorphization.

Now you’re complaining to all our friends that we’re spying on you.  Girl, if you weren’t pulling shady moves that endangered us, we wouldn’t need to keep tabs on you.  We're just out here trying not to get murdered.  Isn't that what everyone wants; to not be murdered?

Then, we finally respond to her crazy texts and she's all mad, because it's only one sentence long.  Eventually, her antics get so out of hand where we give-in and calm her down in person so she'll leave our friends alone.  Dude, but we know she's still at home crying into some wine and listening to Aaliyah songs.

Maybe France read too much into code “US-985D”, “DRTBOX”, and “WHITEBOX”.  Girl, we're not insulting your lady parts with those codes.  They're just codes; we weren't saying you've got an extra large chest or a sullied "hoo-ha".  

Remember that time we were drunk on that U.N. power together and were gonna go to Syria?  I'm glad we sobered up and scrapped that idea, but let's just remember the good times we had during that bender, girl.  

Now you're off kickin' it with our ex-bff, Snowden; and it's understandable that you're mad at us, because he's talking about all this shit I said and did when you weren't around.  You can be mad, but leave us alone.  Come to your senses.  Seriously, we just don't want to die.  Quit causing a ruckus and go back to cooking.  Oh girl, and you sure can cook!  We'd wife you up if you weren't so nuts.  

You're still our number three girl.  Hit us up when you calm down; we'll go out for dinner and a Jay-Z concert or something.

North Korea Can't Stop Won't Stop Get It Get It

Whilst my fellow Americans slowly give up on pronouncing Boehner correctly, I decided to re-focus my attention on another set of clowns: North Korea.  Here's a delightful quote released today from the KCNA, "[the] U.S. will be wholly accountable for the unexpected horrible disaster to be met by its imperialist aggression forces' nuclear strike means."  For starters, you lost me after "horrible disaster," as I cannot decipher the rest of the English phrasing.  I mean, the real threat here is North Korea seems to be utilizing Google Translate rather than hiring a legitimate translator.  Eh, maybe they spent all their money building a skull-shaped island where they house a gargantuan laser that will blow up the sun; naturally, they couldn't afford a decent translator to warn us of of their prowess and our impending doom after such large villainous expenditures.  At the end of the day, I have no idea what's going on with those guys, but I've decided to only show fear when Dennis Rodman decides to leave the country for no good reason.  Dennis Rodman, I turn to you.

Then there's the whole mystery threat thing.  I'm not sure how many Batman movies these guys watched, but last I checked, these types of threats are best used when trying to strike fear in the hearts of the citizens of Gotham; doesn't work so much in real life.  I see the word "nuclear" in there, so maybe that's the mystery threat.  This is worse than the time in 6th grade when I tried to figure out what the growth on Ms. Blye's neck was.  For those of you now on the edge of your seats, it was eczema.