THE JMAC TIMES

The fact is that Abercrombie and Fitch makes shorts that fit me better than any other brand of shorts I’ve ever tried on. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, they just do. Maybe it’s because I haven’t gained any weight since 7th grade when I started buying their products, or maybe it’s because they tailor their shorts to the measurements of an anorexic Russian pole dancer. Either way, their cargo shorts just work for me.

Here’s the thing though: Abercrombie is for like high school kids. One girl told me that at 22, it’s not cool for me to be shopping there anymore. I think she might be right, because we’ve all seen the older guy on the street who’s wearing a tight Abercrombie t-shirt and thought, “Something is just not right with that person.” You can picture the 30 year old walking into the Abercrombie store – which pretty much resembles a preteen BDSM den from the future – and strolling through the aisles while 13 year old Asian girls with braces fold skimpy yellow tank tops around him. Techno music is blasting, the lights are low, everybody has a tan and is wearing flip flops in December. Something about an older guy being in that store alone just isn’t kosher.

And there’s my dilema. I know I can still get away with going in there now (even though it’s a torturous venture) but what about next year? What about a few years from now? I’ve looked far and wide for cargo shorts that fit me better and they simply aren’t out there. But I don’t want to be that creep who’s wearing Abercrombie later in life, spiking up my hair, rocking puka beads and sending the message that I want to be 16 again.

I guess at some point I’m just going to have to grow up and start shopping at adult clothing stores, like Aeropostale.

I really didn’t want to write about Charlie Sheen.

The whole thing was old before it was new and yet people still cling to every development in the story like the outcome will in some way directly affect their lives. Well, I suppose there is a group of people whose lives are effected by it – Two and a Half Men fans – but let’s be honest: if you think that show is funny and you plan your nights around watching it, it doesn’t really matter what happens to you. Although I will say that I’m rooting for bear trap incident.

Anyway, the real mind-boggling aspect of the Charlie Sheen debacle is how quickly everyone in the entertainment industry/Hollywood/CBS/etc abandoned him. Forget about everyday Americans making t-shirts and quoting him. That’s too be expected, as a news story involving crack and prostitutes will always hold more of the public’s attention then something important (not like there’s anything else important going on in the world, right?)

Charlie Sheen is Hollywood royalty. He’s made millions upon millions of dollars for himself and Hollywood/CBS over the years, but when he gets into trouble and needs a person or organization with some power to step in and help him, he finds himself more alone than an Indian person in a gym… you know, because they smell.

Think about it: any other business that has put millions of dollars into an investment – an investment that became one of the most lucrative investments in the industry – would do everything in their power to protect that investment, right? Even if that investment had a lot of problems, it still doesn’t erase the fact that millions of dollars are pouring into your pockets because of it. And in the case of Sheen, the amelioration is incredibly easy. Way more easy than, say, fixing a hole in a supply line or developing a competitive marketing campaign.

What did CBS need to do to stop all this from happening, keep the show on the air and thus keep caking off of Sheen’s mere presence? Simple. Be his friend.

All those idiots had to do was be Charlie Sheen’s friend and none of this would have ever went down. Nobody and I mean nobody who watches that horrible show he’s on gives two fucks what he does when he’s not on their screen. Smoking coke? Having threesomes with pornstars? Benders for days? All of that is fine. As long as the dude is delivering his lines on the scheduled time every week, all is right in the world.

There really couldn’t be a better illustration of how the entertainment industry is so quick to resort to cannibalism. As soon as this thing started, it was Charlie Sheen vs. The Machine. One man taking on the whole system, the irony being that it was the system who started the fight. Being a raging drug addict addict and lothario is nothing new in Hollywood. But in this case, people are acting like it is. I’m not saying what he does is right or healthy, but it’s what he does nonetheless.

The other annoyance of this shit storm is all the people who suddenly started worshipping Charlie Sheen like he’s some sort of god. The dude is a crazy – untalented if you ask me – drug addict who’s on one of the most unfunny shows ever. Yes, he fucks porn stars, but he pays them.  Yes, he’s rich, but he was handed the opportunity to become so. I mean I’ll go out right now and buy a bunch of coke, go on a bender, pay fake women to suck my dick and start raving like a lunatic. Wanna party with me?

Bottom line: who cares? The dude should be able to do whatever he wants within the law, and if he gets caught operating outside the law, he should be punished. Same way with every other person in this country. CBS fucked up and turned on him, now they’ve created a monster fueled by the idiots in this country who are glued to his interviews and hanging on his every word.

The news fucking sucks.

Sometimes social media and text messages make me think that people arent really good at grammar n e more. I mean by no means am I a grammar Nazi or n e thing, but it just seems like people should know the difference between certain words.

Sure, every body misspells words by accident some times, but lately I’ve noticed its been getting really bad. Its almost like people have forgotten how to use apostrophes and adjectives and pronouns. When I look at the way some people write on Facebook, its almost like there completely forgetting what they learned in middle school, like their really that stupid that they dont know the difference between certain words.

At this point in our lives, were definitely smart enough to know how to spell, rite? It couldnt be that people fuck up these words on purpose, could it? I mean whats the benefit of spelling words wrong when you could just as easily spell them rite?

I almost want to say that social media and text messages have made us worse spellers and writers, but that could be an overstatement. Actually, I guess it doesnt really matter. Its not like n e body really notices when you fuck up certain words. When people see it, there probably just like, “Oh, must have been a accident.”

Because they’re really isn’t any good reason that people who arent retarded shouldnt know how to use an apostrophe or know the difference between their, there, and they’re. All those people who screw up those words in every day life, there not that fucking stupid, r they?

Man, is there anything more exciting than having a birthday?

The answer is yes. With an exclamation point and maybe a few extra s’s to hammer the point home.

Birthdays are not an accomplishment. You didn’t achieve your birth. In fact, you had no part in your birth whatsoever. The mailman who delivered mail to a house that wasn’t your parent’s had exactly as much to do with your birth as you did.

Now look, I’m not a big enough curmudgeon to come out and say that you should never celebrate your birthday. That’s what Jehovah’s Witnesses do, and we all know that Jehovah’s Witnesses aren’t real people. Of course you should celebrate your birthday, but you should do so while abiding by three very important regulations. These regulations are as follows:

1. No Throwing Your Own Party

If you have to plan and organize your own birthday party, then it’s probably better to just take the time and money you were going to invest in the party and use it to move to another country, because in the one you currently reside, you have no friends or family that care about you. Either that, or you actually think that a birthday party is something important enough to warrant full creative control, in which case you should just hit your head against the wall until all of the stupid drains out of your nose.

2. No Designated Present Opening Ceremony

How fucking old are you? If the answer is ten or above, then your days of opening presents in front of everyone are over and done with. Sorry, that’s just the way it is. I can’t think of a larger display of raw snobbishness than to show a group of people the new things you just got for free and expect them to display positive emotions and reactions throughout the duration of the show. Do you know why little kids open their presents in front of everyone? It’s because little kids are like feral dogs and only care about themselves. So if you don’t consider yourself a feral dog, then save the unwrapping until everyone’s gone.

3. No Celebrating Your Birthday More Than Once

This is the most important rule of all. The fact that you get a party for an event that you had absolutely nothing to do with is mind boggling in itself, but the fact that you would think it’s somehow acceptable to direct the spotlight on yourself more than once for this event is utterly disturbing. That’s like being the guest of honor at two parties for Tom Brady’s MVP selection. You didn’t accomplish it, but you’re celebrating it more than once. Be lucky for all of that free shit and attention you got last night, because if you look at what happened through a scope of realism, you pretty much just stole time and money from your friends and family.

But most importantly, have a happy birthday!

I haven’t posted here in like three weeks, and here are two possible reasons why:

1. While in a back alley waiting on a prostitute I procured from Craigslist, I dropped the cigarette lighter on my lap as I was lifting it to light a Newport. In my haste to get the scolding lighter off my thigh, I accidentally put the car into drive and simultaneously hit the gas pedal. As I lurched forward, a large black man crossed the street and I ran him over with my car.

Getting out to see if he was alright, I immediately noticed the huge gun he was carrying on his waist. He stood up looking extremely angry and before he could pull the gun out, I went on the offensive and attacked him. We rolled around, throwing punches, head-butts and knees,  until we eventually rolled through the front door of a local pawn shop.

Once inside, the gun fell onto the ground and we both scrambled for it, but before either of us could reach it, the proprietor of the shop put his foot on it and took it away from us. As me and this large black man laid bloody and bruised on the ground, I heard the store manager get on the phone and say, “Zed, it’s Maynard. Yeah, the Spider just caught a couple of flies.”

Shortly after that, I was knocked unconscious. When I awoke later after an unknown period of time, I was gagged and tied to a chair next to the large black man. Another man showed up, and then the Gimp was brought out, and I’d actually rather not go into the rest of the details as they are slightly embarrassing and may damage my pristine reputation as both a heterosexual man and a person who does not cry.

Although these events happened in the span of only one day, the emotional recovery has been painful and arduous, and that is the reason I haven’t written in so long.

2. I’ve had writer’s block.

There are 3 certainties in life: death, taxes, and that any joke a college professor tells is less funny than George Lopez and Tyler Perry combined with a documentary on Auschwitz. In case your mental math is shaky, that’s about as unfunny as you can get.

Here’s one I got today:

Professor: “There will be four pop quizzes this semester that I’ll tell you about in advance.”

Class: ….

Professor: “That’s was a joke.”

Class: ….

And then six people shot themselves in the face. SIX! That’s how unfunny the joke was. A few people threw up in their mouths and one kid started shaking and pissing his pants because after realizing how bad the joke was, he saw no hope for humanity in general and was convinced that the Rapture was shockingly imminent.

My theory is that if you’re going to tell a joke, at least make sure it’s gonna get some kind of reaction. Introduce yourself, black joke. Explain the course objectives, blonde joke. Elucidate the grading system, dead baby joke. And have a little showmanship for christ’s sake.

That’s it for me! Goodnight everybody!

Mike Vick – “Laugh even harder at the white man for basically forgetting what I did and believing me when I say that I’m a changed person.”

Rex Ryan – “Since we barely made the playoffs and celebrated that playoff birth in the locker room after a loss, I’m going to buy my wife a new pair of shoes which I’ll immediately have her take off. Also, I’m going to run my mouth a lot more than I did in 2010 because that’s what Jets football is all about: media controversies and shit talking.”

Brett Favre – “Well, my career is over and there’s no way that I’ll be hired as an analyst (you know, ’cause of the penis thing), so I think I’m going to cry myself to sleep more often. Hopefully ESPN will cover that.”

Bill Belichick – “Not telling.”

Tom Coughlin – “I’m going to get in better shape, eat healthier, make sure I take my vitamins every day, and also go buy a gun and shoot every player on my team.”

Randy Moss – “Nuffin.”

Sal Alosi – “Been thinking about relaxing and taking a trip…”

Jerry Jones - “What Coughlin said.”

Roger Goodell – “Issue more nonsensical fines to players while at the same time marketing and making ridiculous amounts of money off of the exact things I publicly condemn.”

I’m going snowboarding for a couple of days, so here’s a joke:

One day this mom is baking cookies in the kitchen. She has 3 sons, and when she goes to answer the phone in the other room, the 3 sons sneak into the kitchen and pour BBs from their BB gun into the cookie batter. They’re real troublemakers.

The mom sees them do it from the other room, and instead of yelling at them right there, she decides it’s time to teach them a lesson.

So she goes ahead and bakes the cookies with the BBs in them and then calls her sons into the kitchen one by one.

The first son comes in and she makes him eat a cookie. An hour later, he comes back into the kitchen and says, “Mom, I just pissed out a BB.” The mom says, “It serves you right, now go to your room.”

The second son comes in and she makes him eat a cookie. An hour later, he comes back into the kitchen and says, “Mom, I just shit out a bunch of BBs.” The mom says, “It serves you right, now go to your room.”

The third son comes in and she makes him eat a cookie. An hour later, he comes back into the kitchen and says, “Mom, I was jacking off and I shot the dog.”

Looking for a last minute Christmas gift that’s affordable, unique, and utterly awesome?

Well look no further, because I have 3 of the greatest, last minute gifts on the planet. Give that special person one of these gifts and you will be the hero of Christmas, worshipped more than Santa or that other guy that got nailed to the cross and everyone forgets about around the Holidays.

Here they are:

The Gift of Tires

Tires are expensive and nobody likes buying new ones. If you live in an area that sees a lot of snowfall in the winter months, tires are even more important to transportation and safety. Everybody needs tires!

Now when I said nobody likes buying tires, I meant you, the gift buyer, too. You shouldn’t have to go out and buy costly tires just because you want to give someone tires. So here’s what you do: get a large kitchen knife, go to your lucky gift recipient’s house, kneel down next to his car and get in a position that makes it look like you’re about to slash the tires of the vehicle. When that special someone comes out of the house, they’ll see you about to ruin their Bridgestones. Instead of actually going through with it, act like you’ve had a sudden change of heart and tell them you’ve decided against it.

What would have surely resulted in them having to buy new tires has now become a situation where they don’t have to. In essence, you just saved them the cost of new tires. There you go, the gift of tires!

The Gift of Peace

You’ve probably been invited to a few holiday parties, some at relative’s houses and others at friend’s places, right? And of course you’re required to bring at least one gift to each party, in some cases more than one if there are annoying little kids there or something. Plus, you have to interact with all those boring relatives and acquaintances you hate, and that just makes for a bad Christmas.

So here’s what you do: call up the host of the party about an hour before you’re supposed to arrive. Tell them that you’ve been drinking heavily and might have ingested some pain killers you found in the medicine cabinet, you can’t really remember. Make a point of elucidating the fact that you’re going to hit on the host’s sister (daughter, mother, wife, etc) and that public urination is a guarantee. Explain that you’ve been on Urban Dictionary a lot lately and have several new and fairly unknown sex acts you’d like to describe to the eldest person there. You also may want to mention that there’s a 50/50 chance you’ll show up without pants.

After all of that, there’s no chance they’ll want you over their house. By not going, you’ll give them one of the greatest gifts of all: escape from your abhorrent and belligerent behavior. It’s a Christmas miracle!

The Gift of Killing Yourself

Christmas is all about giving and being selfless. Just think about all the people who feel required to buy you a gift or send you a card or invite you to their house. That’s a lot of burden on a lot of people. Sure, you could sit there and keep sucking up all your friend’s and family’s time and resources, but is that what you really want to do on Christmas? Be a leech?

You shouldn’t. And guess what? There’s really only one way to stop people from inviting you over and sending you things: Kill yourself!

The best part about this gift is that it doesn’t cost any money at all and it’s wonderful effects on the recipients will be almost immediate. Right away they’ll be able to stop buying for you and thinking about you. Man, what a relief for them! In my opinion, this is the greatest Christmas gift of all. Just complete and utter removal of any problems you’ve brought into people’s lives. Not to mention, you can give this gift to a large number of people without seeming cheap or uncreative.

So have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year… if you make it that long.

-Wear a Bluetooth headset

-Wear extremely loud boots

-Celebrate your birthday more than once a year

-Take more than 10 seconds placing your order when the waitress asks you what you’ll be having

-Drink Grey Goose at a college keg party

-Complain about how hard school is

-Ask someone to get you a drink from the bar in a non-ironic way

-Expect sympathy after your failed suicide attempt

-Drive an Escalade

-Act as an authority on what people aren’t important enough to do.