Confessions of a Douchebag

Total Jerkface

It recently occurred to me that I'm a total jerkface.  To just about everyone I know, this would be about as surprising as finding out that Tila Tequila lacked morals.  For those of you on the preacher side of my family, Tila Tequila is the internet equivalent of the Bank of America if it were a sperm bank..and if it only took deposits.  For the rest of you, please refer to the cache of questionable worm-ridden videography on your hard drive hidden from your significant others.

Now for most people, the definition of what I represent is a person that's pretty much a jerk to everyone around him.  This leaves reasonable room for said person to actually be nice to his smallish circle of friends.  I'm almost afraid it's the opposite for me.  I tend to be cordial (or at least quiet) to people I don't know very well and treat my friends like total crap.

This was scientifically proven to me while reading a blog by the wife of one of my best friends I grew up with. 

Now You See It, Now You Don't

 - In order to protect the innocent, I'm going to use names that rhyme with their real ones so that you'll never ever know who I'm talking about.

This person named "Dratt Geldmann" (he also has a brother named "Fristopher") happens to have been born with an aggressive form of red-green color blindness.  He also had problems distinguishing blues and purples.  Nevermind the fact that he scored off the charts on his I.Q. test.

In my quest for scientific achievement, I used to break out the box of crayons and quiz him on the colors.  I also often forced him to come up with various shades of camouflage that to you and I looked like a neon Picasso.  To him it was all a bunch of brown.  This was immensely entertaining to me on a daily basis for approximately seven years.  The only times his condition REALLY presented itself as a hindrance was when he was on my  doubles team and we were shooting pool.  Commanding him to shoot the purple ball was about as useful as putting a wig on a cat.  Playing Uno was a different tragedy altogether.

We Are Not Happy

I suppose being annoying is something I've always been good at.  The dawn of the internet was particularly wonderful for me.  Total anonymity combined with a culture of douchebaggery was something I excelled at.  I've always been good at being insulting because I grew up as physically intimidating as a blow up doll.  I was also about as quick and agile as a paraplegic turtle.  To this day I'm convinced that the horrors I endured in middle school could only be understood by a person like Wes Craven or Stephen King.

That's not really a good enough excuse, though.  So with this I apologize to everyone I've ever offended or said something mean to.  Please don't take this as total and utter repentance, though.  I'm certain that my mouth will continue to put me in awkward situations for the next several decades until the good Lord shuts it for me.  This is just to say that I actually had a fleeting moment where I felt like a terrible person.

To whomever is reading this right now:  You are a beautiful, bright person who makes the people around you happy.  And with that you've now witnessed something quite rare these days on Al Gore's Internet.  If you happen to be named something similar to "Dratt Geldmann", I'm sorry I was such a jerk and I still think of you and your family as close and personal friends.

Now that we have that out of the way, for the ladies, you may resume your regularly scheduled Groupon shopping, and for the guys please continue with your adventures in pornography.  I'll skip the reminders to click on my Google AdSense advertisements to the left and right of this article until you get your pants back on.

-Dave Lumpkin

Dummies, Netflix, Michele Bachmann and my Future as a Rapper

Gigantic Dummies

Let me begin by pointing out that I, of course am not a dummy - unless you ask my wife and then I'm certain she could point out an entire list of things I've done that make me "not smart".  Then again it hit me the other day that being a dummy isn't entirely terrible after all as long as you're charming.  There are a ton of examples of this from Hollywood and television.  You have Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, Beavis and Butthead, Dude, Where's My Car, Patrick Star from Spongebob Squarepants, and let's not forget Michele Bachmann

I'm not sure where my own fascination comes from in watching and listening to dummies.  I think perhaps it makes me feel smarter in my own right.  I even take great glee in listening to people botch facts or sayings or conventional wisdom in a private setting as well.  I'll be honest, though I don't usually associate myself with entire groups of dummies so it doesn't happen very often, but when someone in my social circle makes a factual or social blunder I feel like a teenage schoolgirl watching Glee.

Quite frankly, there's a lot of things that as a MAN I'm supposed to know that I really don't.  In fact if you yourself enjoy watching people look stupid, just hand me a filter and some 5W-30 for my car and tell me that the world depends on me to change the oil in my rollerskate.  I'd have my mancard revoked.  I'd be willing to bet I am more likely to have a successful career as a Rapper than be able to get it done.

M.C. Dummy Head

So I thought I'd come clean and admit some of the things that I don't know but REALLY ought to just in case it ever comes up in conversation.

• I have NO idea what the difference between straw and hay is, they look the same
• I don't know how deep the ocean gets, I'm guessing less than 4 miles?
• I'm being serious I REALLY don't know how to change the oil in my car, or where to even start.
• I don't know ANYTHING about Glee, Vampires or anything else that chicks like these days
• If given a piece of paper and pencil, I could only name 42 states from memory (I DEFY you to try this)
• I think I only knew like 10 of the state capitals
• Ok, geography is my weakest link, I don't know all the Canadian provinces and I could only come up with like 25 European countries from memory, too.
• Although I can wash and fold my own clothes, I SUCK at stain removal.

Really that's only a sample of my ignorance, but I have a scientific theory that the reason I couldn't do any of those things properly is because I've chosen to memorize, master or recall stupid crap from my childhood that will NEVER EVER help me accomplish anything when I grow up.  For example:

• I know far too many characters from G.I. Joe and Transformers, although you may argue this helped me with all the extremely imaginative Hollywood movies recently
• If you sat me in front of a computer with World of Warcraft on it, I'd bet I get farther than most people
• Thanks to my kids I have a deeper understanding of Pokemon than anyone legally should
• I can tell you more than you ever needed to know about "The Big Bang Theory"
• I've always known it takes about 8 minutes for light to reach Earth from the Sun
• Thanks to Google, I happen to know that a green apple has more energy in it than coffee

It's my firm belief that I could have solved the Grand Unification Theory in physics, but I instead chose to fill my brain with baseball statistics from the 1990's.

Therefore I've decided to Raise Awareness for Stupidity.  If you enjoy listening to stupid things or watching them I encourage you to deftly and ravenously click on all of my Google AdSense ads to the left and right of this article.  The $0.25 you raise for each click will fund my fight against Dummies like Michele Bachmann and  will raise my own awareness by allowing me to watch "Dude, Where's My Car" again on Netflix (trust me, click and read about THAT one).  In the meantime, if any of you happen to know what the difference between straw and hay is without Google-ing it, hit me up on twitter @DaveLumpkin.

-Dave Lumpkin

West Virginia Jokes and The Maury Povich Gold Standard

People With Nooooo Standards

Really ALL jokes at the expense of the Southern half of the nation are hilarious.  By "hilarious" I really mean that everyone laughs out loud when they hear one, but they feign disinterest when there's someone important in the room.  For example, try telling the following to your 95 year old grandmother who resides in Tennessee and goes to church countless times a week:

Q: Whats the difference between a redneck and a West Virginian?

A: A redneck raises livestock,  A West Virginian gets emotionally involved.

or a personal favorite of mine [thereby securing the chance I'll never hold public office in West Virginia]:

Q: What's the difference between a Virginian and a West Virginian?

A: In Virginia Moosehead is a beer, in West Virginia it's a misdemeanor.

In fact Jeff Foxworthy made an entire career out of making fun of an entire half of the United States.  He also made exactly $12348901326 quadrillion doing so and effectively killed the humor of redneck jokes for about a decade.  Quite frankly, it's a guilty pleasure we all share.  No matter how bad off our own lives are, at least we don't live in an entire state actively engaged in sibling sexual relations that take place inside old Cheverolets.

The funny thing is that if you travel to different portions of the South, the name West Virginia gets substituted for other states.  For example, I learned that my west Virginia jokes were no good in Tennessee, I had to substitute Kentucky jokes for them.  If you travel to Louisiana, you have to substitute Alabama and if you travel to Mississippi all you need to do is read over some of their recent legislature for material and call it "fact".  Oddly enough there's a lot of denial going on down South.

I suppose this all really ties into one of my deepest, darkest, guiltiest pleasures; watching the Maury Povich show.

Gripping Journalism

To be honest the Maury show falls into two exact categories: DNA tests and Lie Detector Tests. There's not really any wavering from the Maury Gold Standard.  I'm confident all they do to prep a show is flip a coin.  Heads means "Lie Detector Tests".  Then they line up 5 women and men who think they have partners who are cheating on them and give the offenders lie detector tests.  Sometimes the males are also given DNA tests.  Maury then comes out in a black fleece and delivers about two minutes worth of dialogue and it's on.

Occasionally they will throw a curveball whereby a hot pixelated blonde will try to seduce the offender in the waiting room and then makes out with him for 45 minutes while he confesses on camera that he believes he is already dating the ugliest chick in America but the blonde is so hot.  Maury then shows this to the audience.  100% of the time the jilted lover STILL wants to listen to the Lie Detector results.  This sort of silliness is riveting.  The results are NEVER EVER EVER shocking to the viewer.  In fact I'm convinced that if I ever show up on Maury, my marriage is over and I may as well make out with the chick in the waiting room.

I would be remiss go on without giving a nod to Maury's DNA testing program.  In short, there's a WWE-like sound-byte whereby the male states that he is not the father because the female is a MASSIVE prostitute (the logic is typically this flawless).  Then he comes out to the audience and gets booed.  Maury asks him that if he IS the father will he be a part of the baby's life.  He says that he LOVES babies (despite the fact that he hasn't even purchased diapers for the child in three years) and wants to be the daddy. 

Skip to the baby-cam.  A picture of the baby is juxtaposed with a picture of the alleged father.  The home viewers are forced to place wagers whether or not they believe the guy is the father.  My wife finds this to be the most genius element of programming on television and I am inclined to agree.  Maury then reads the results which are typically NOT what you'd expect and the audience goes wild.  He always says "In the case of Baby _____, YOU [ARE/ARE NOT] THE FATHER.

Now that doesn't really sound enticing, except for the fact that often times there are women there being obviously exploited for ratings who are on their 4th or 5th paternity test with different men who "all fit the timeframe" so-to-speak.  There is also the matter of how they all talk.  In short, chicks and guys with a low moral foundation are captivating to me.

Blah, blah, blah..click on all of my Google Ad-Sense advertising...in the meantime I'll leave you with this gem I found on the web from http://www.perryland.com/humor10.shtml:

Question: How do they practice "SAFE SEX" in West Virginia? 

Answer: They paint a red "X" on the cows that kick.

-Dave Lumpkin

Crap Genetics, Global Kitten Domination and Totally Naked Strippers

Wise, Old Man

After twelve full years of careful deliberation, I've come to the conclusion that I'm no longer Twenty-Three.  I was forced to conclude this somewhat when my younger brother came to visit over the weekend.  By "younger brother", I really just mean there's a 2+ year age difference, but decades ago that used to be all I needed.  I doubt if I could actually beat the crap out of him anymore if I tried.  This is extremely disconcerting to anyone who is an older brother/sister.

By the way, there's no strippers in today's post. I simply noticed that if I put that word in the title I get a LOT more hits on the advertising.  I am also using the word "Naked".  I will let you know how it all pans out. 

Although it's easy to jump the gun and declare myself old, I still FEEL like a young moron.  I still drive like an idiot and I'm still capable of making stupid decisions.  Nowadays, though, I've learned to just keep quiet and learn from everyone else making dumb decisions.  I shake my head disdainfully when I hear about them, say something like "wow, unbelievable." and then thank Jesus that it wasn't me, because I could have seen myself doing the same stupid thing.

My body, however is maturing at a rate that exponentially dominates the slow growth of my feeble mind.  In fact, since I wasn't gifted with Peyton Manning or Mark Cuban's genetic make-up, I've decided to punish my body by treating it like crap.  I eat absolute garbage (which I am able to cook extremely well thanks to all these years in the food industry) and own a gym membership that I've essentially never used.  

It was painful to see that my grandmother is WAY more mobile than I am last weekend.  I was there in attendance of her 95th birthday.  Now, it's true I just got out of a leg cast and am still in crutches, but I KNOW that if we raced last weekend, she would have destroyed me in the 40.

I also have a wheelchair I use occasionally.  On those occasions my orange and white cat is usually sitting in it.  I've tried to explain to him that having a brain the size of a walnut does not constitute having a handicap so I should have the chair.  He doesn't move.  I conclude that the cat is therefore smarter than I suspected.  

I Demand an Offering From My Subjects

I actually have a sneaking suspicion that cats are the dominant planetary species.  They've provided us with dogs to lower our IQ by forcing us into contact with THE single dumbest genus of animal in existence.  This is much like the conspiracy theory that the government allows poor people to use narcotics to keep them oppressed and is in charge of illegal drug trafficking.  Cats likely own pet stores and have a lot of say where strays end up.

There's a couple people out there still holding out that dogs are smarter than cats.  In fact, there are SOME total dummies who believe that there are other planetary species that possess higher intelligence.  Let me discredit all this in a few irrefutable bullet points:

• Cats are smarter than dolphins because dolphins swim in the ocean.  The ocean is filled with fish poop. Dolphins also likely poop in the ocean.  Humans dump their trash in the ocean.  The ocean is a huge toilet that dolphins chose to be a part of.  Cats did not.
• Cats are smarter than cockroaches because cockroaches are ALSO poop eaters.  It's been said that cockroaches are smart because they would survive a nuclear holocaust.  Cockroaches have not yet invented nuclear weapons, though, so we can't really test this.
• Cats are smarter than people because they don't have jobs or a stupid economy that's based on archaic principles and questionably-moraled banking institutions.  They also force us to feed them and they repay our kindness by making sure our curtains and have enough holes in them to be ineffective.  They also regularly exert their superiority by sharpening their claws on things that are important to us (like the backs of our sofas and our bed boxsprings) so we know our place.
• Although it's easy to argue that some dogs are poop eaters and rest my case, I'll offer some different examples.  Cats are smarter than dogs because cats are potty trained in litter boxes.  Dogs poop anywhere.  Also 90% of dogs live in fear of a cat in joint living situations.  DOGS regularly can be seen eating CAT food.  A cat (the lion) is king of the jungle. 

You can try and argue any of this, but I have enough well-logically developed evidence in my pocket to bury you.  

Therefore I've decided to create a new Awareness Fund to help our place in civilization.  Admittedly I will NOT be pursuing this as feverishly as the Dave Lumpkin Stripper Awareness Fund, but, nonetheless you can be sure I CARE about humanity.  Please don't ask what the Fund pays for.  That is highly classified.

YOU can help me raise money for the new Dave Lumpkin Litterbox Freedom Fund.  You can do this by relentlessly and eagerly clicking on all of the Google Ad-Sense ads to the left and right of this blog.  Your cat orders you.

In the meantime, I'm going to spend the next couple hours NOT in the gym while eating jellybeans from a gift basket I got from my wonderful boss and my fellow management cronies.  I'm going to pretend it's because they miss me, and NOT that they think I'm a genetic tragedy.

-Dave Lumpkin

The Dave Lumpkin Stripper Awareness Fund

Grandfather-hood

OK, relax, I'm not a grandfather for the moment.  For those of you who know my wife and I, you know that we DO appear to manufacture children at the rate at which most politicians manufacture partisan bickering.  The oldest one, however is eight, and thinks girls are vile aliens who want to suck the life out of him.  Now, there's a HUGE temptation to tell him that his suspicions are entirely correct, and there is no end to all the supporting evidence - my wife however, would kill me.  The eight year-old's not the one I'm worried about anyhow.

I suppose now is the time to point out that if you don't really have any kids but still want some, you ought to stop reading.  If you DO still happen to want kids but don't have any, mouse over, click and watch THIS.  Otherwise, please spend the next fifteen minutes productively clicking on all of my Google Ad-Sense advertisements to the left and right of this article so I can raise the $0.02 you will generate for my new Dave Lumpkin Stripper Awareness Fund (keep reading).

The problem lies in my two year-old daughter.  Recently, my wife began the long, arduous task of potty-training her.  The problem is that there appear to be a LOT more associated tasks with potty training than most people typically think about.  By "a lot more associated tasks", I really just mean the one task of putting your underwear back on after the fact.  My two year old enjoys parading herself around nude.

I have to think that Adam and Eve ate from the forbidden fruit somewhere in their thirties after their bodies started going to crap.  All my personal, recent and scientifically gathered evidence points to the fact that children enjoy being naked from the womb until (and I can attest to this) their thirties.  There are a lot of people who are exceptions to the rule.  They are all porn stars.

I therefore blame Eve entirely for people having to wear clothes.  CLEARLY this wasn't Adam's fault. I even submit that Adam never ate from the forbidden fruit.  This is evidenced by the fact that the fruit came from the Tree of Knowledge.  How many smart men are there out there REALLY?  Therefore I conclude that Eve was an evil soul-sucking alien bent on the destruction of man.  My oldest kid's suspicions are confirmed.

The problem is that my two year-old daughter enjoys prancing around naked so much that I'm concerned about her moral foundation.  Granted, I have no one to blame but myself and my extra-terrestrial wife, I'm just very worried that this loose moral construct will cause me to be a grandfather in thirteen years.  This isn't the ONLY thing causing my worry.  My daughter is also a gigantic addict.

Addict

Team Umizoomi and Dora the Explorer are the devil.  I point this ought because we know addictive behavior to be bad.  Both of those television shows create strong emotions in my daughter if she is NOT watching them.  When Dora or Team Umizoomi is on the television (don't get me wrong, either is IMMENSELY more riveting than my wife's addict preference of Judge Judy), you can see a glassy-stoned haze settle in the back of my daughter's eyes.  She then puts down all her toys and begins to drool slightly.  This is not unlike what happens to me when I am watching Cowboy's football on Sundays.

There is also the concrete fact that we're getting to the point where she likes one particular episode and will watch it over and over and over and over until we're certain that all of the neighbors and their pets have memorized all the lines.  I'm fairly sure that my wife and I are scientific experts on the Team Umizoomi episode where they make ice cream pizza.  I also believe that if the government used this particular episode to brainwash two year-olds they could create naked super-villains capable of driving terrorists to surrender.

I suppose my fear resides in the fact that grown women who dance around naked and are addicts don't typically do well in the 'I made my parents proud of me at this point in my life" department.  I forgot to mention that she also enjoys coloring on herself with markers (read: "early tattoos").  I also know that it's fairly early in life and my job as a father is just beginning.  At least her brothers and I are the only boys she's kissing right now, and thank Jesus she's too young for the Justin Bieber movement.

[If you're my wife, stop reading RIGHT HERE]

Therefore I'm creating the Dave Lumpkin Stripper Awareness Fund.  Please send me a lot of money so I can learn more about strippers so that I can keep my daughter from doing that for a living.  You can shorten the "Pay To" part on the check to simply "Dave Lumpkin", and I'll update you on what I've learned in a future post.

-Dave Lumpkin

Tom and Jerry Used to Walk Up-Hill in the Snow Both Ways

These Kids Today

When I was a lot younger I used to hear the occasional complaint about "These kids today..." and how America was destined to be flushed down the toilet by communist insurgents because of the lack of anything worthwhile coming from my generation.  You MAY argue that anything worthwhile has yet to come from my generation all these years later (and you may be entirely correct), but now that I have kids of my own I can assure you to expect even less from our generation of children.  I have learned this from my extremely scientific study of listening to my wife complain about other people and their kids.  I will therefore declare myself an "expert" on the matter.

When our generation was younger we used to hear absurd stories from our fathers.  They'd make up things about walking up-hill both ways in 6 feet of snow to school, changing their own oil, no internet, (and perhaps worst of all) and not being able to shop at a place like Sam's Club or Costco.  I used to think that these were huge lies propagated by shell-shocked commie chasers angry that we got out of school for 2 feet of snow, but recent events are leading me to believe that maybe it all wasn't made up (except the part about Sam's Club).

My children live in a school district in Tennessee that calls off school for rain.  This is a true story.  They are so entirely vigilant about rain prevention that we often get a phone call the day BEFORE it rains informing us that school is cancelled for tomorrow.  As a result, the school year extends from early August throughout the next two to five years.  I was lead to believe that this is a result of unpaved roads in underdeveloped communities, but my true belief is that the Wicked Witch of the West's grandchildren go to our elementary school, she is on the school board and we're trying to prevent them from melting.  So this one singular fact has brought  me to the inescapable conclusion that:

We Are Raising a Generation of Sissies

This occurred to me when I realized recently that there is no such thing as Saturday Morning Cartoons anymore.  Even worse, instead of meaningful violent cartoons like Tom and Jerry where we learned the appropriate way to beat the honest crap out of each other, our kids are learning Mandarin by watching "Ni Hao, Kai-Lan".  They have channels and channels of stuff like this.  Now you'd mistakenly think that all this non-violent cartoon learning would contribute something positive to our society, and if you consider alarming increases of teenage pregnancy, soaring high school drop-out rates, Jersey Shore ratings, and the fact that MTV doesn't even broadcast music anymore to be positive, then you'd be correct.  I personally am of the opinion that we're setting up the Bicycle Helmet Generation to fail.

The issue (permit me to point out something I believe to be true for a second) is us.  We're a fairly non-confrontational lot and the amount of what I call "decision-makers" in our generation is way less than the amount of decision-makers in our parents' generation.  We're all to content to let things just happen to us and stand by and do nothing.  In fact, when major political, psychological or even social things DO happen to us, we barely even bitch about it anymore.

I urge you to test this out by cutting in front of people in line at your local Wal-Mart.  All you have to do is have a lame excuse like "I forgot to feed my hamster, I think he's melting so I need to hurry, sorrythanks!" and I can pretty much assure you that you'll get to keep your place in line.  Now, this won't get you home any faster as Wal-Mart has figured out a way to hire people who are actually slow at laser scanners, but it WILL confirm my one proven fact.  If you had tried this stunt only 25 years earlier I promise you would have been shot in the face and excommunicated.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not asking for an entire generation of people to suddenly wake up and smell the coffee.  I'd much prefer that only the ones that share my personal political, religious and social beliefs do that and would be content to let the rest continue in their "everyone wins something" society, content to have never learned the sport of murder ball because it teaches us to murder(???). 

In the meantime, please wake up and show your support by mindlessly and uncontrollably clicking on all of the Google Ad-Sense advertising to the right and left of this article so I can make $0.25 to raise awareness for Tom and Jerry and their True American Values.  If you don't contribute, may you find yourself voting for Justin Bieber 25 years from now.  I gotta go, my hamster is melting.

-Dave Lumpkin

The Tactical Solution to the Nigerian Lotto Scam by a New Millionaire

Lucky Bastard

I woke up today in a very ambivalent mood.  The Cowboys got punished in a pre-season game and there was a drought of Mountain Dew in our refrigerator.  Add to that the fact that I am currently in a nuclear orange leg cast in a wheelchair and it's easy to wonder why I'm not clinically depressed.  I hobbled upstairs to check my e-mail and suddenly discovered that my luck had changed for good.

According to Mrs. Rose Quinones of the Australian International Lottery Commission (names slightly changed to protect the internationally innocent) I HAVE JUST WON $1 MILLION IN U.S. DOLLARS!  All I have to do is contact my (pay attention here) Nigerian claims agent in Nigeria where the lotto was conducted, named Babatunde Bradley and send him the following:

Claims Requirements:
Ticket Number:AUGB8101/LPRC
Batch Numbers: 7050470902/189
Ref Number: 435062725
Bonus Number 17
1.Full Names:
2.Nationality:
3.Age:
4.Sex:
5.Contact Address:
6.Telephone Number:
7.Occupation:

8.Social Security Number:

9.Please mail us 2 of your children so we can enslave them, I mean verify your lottery claim:

Did I forget to mention the fact that The Australian Lottery was conducted in Nigeria and coincidentally was payed out in U.S. dollars?  Just in case I did, I've included the actual lottery ticket number that I never purchased with the authentic batch and reference numbers from the e-mail.  And all this got me to thinking...

Now that I'm a bona fide millionaire I can say whatever I please!  I no longer have to censor my mouth or worry about the political ramifications because I have enough money to influence politics as I see fit!  Therefore I am going to propose a few changes.

The current ambassador to Nigeria, (no doubt a potential multi-national U.S./Aussie gazillionaire) is Terence P. McCulley.  I recommend he be recalled immediately and re-assigned to a new, more lucrative post in Pakistan which came up under my Google search for "worst country ever".  In his place I suggest we assign a gigantic tactical nuke to be the new U.S. ambassador with full diplomatic immunity just for good measure.  Some of the conversations might go like this.

Nigerian Government:  "Hey, new guy! Did you know that you just won the British Royal Lottery AND the Lottery of the Former Soviet Republic of Belarus, both of which we conduct here and both of which pay out in nice round U.S. dollar figures?"

New U.S. Ambassador: [begins counting down from 10]

BOOM

Now, to be fair, I WAS somewhat tempted to mail 2 of my children into slavery for the tidy sum of a million dollars.  Considering the down economy, it would be nice to know that half of them landed a job so easily.  On the other hand I thought it fair to point out that the Nigerians could do a LITTLE better with their attempted ruse.  So I'm going to point that out here where no one will be able to find it:

Dear Nigerian based Australian Lottery Commission that Pays in U.S. Dollars, 

   This letter is to inform you that you are NOT scamming up to your potential.  Every good American knows that the best way to steal our money is to propose a weight-loss program that involves eating tons of McDonald's and never exercising ever again.  You see, even over here some of our best crack dealers have GEDs and our more responsible and more upstanding crack dealers know that in order to hook us on the product, you must give us our first hit for free.

  So here's my proposition:  In addition to EVERYONE clicking on all of my Google AdSense advertisements ravenously and furiously, please send all of your potential victims $1 million U.S. the first time around to get us interested in your awesome new weight-loss regimen that involves McDonald's, Mt. Dew and Ho-Ho's.  Instead of mailing us the money, show us your goodwill by going door-to-door in bright orange jumpsuits with signs that state "I AM CARRYING AN OBSCENE AMOUNT OF CASH".   

  Please start by doing this in our most economically depressed neighborhoods after midnight.

Love,
Dave Lumpkin

I'm pretty sure I just fixed U.S.-Nigerian relations RIGHT HERE in front of your eyes.  This is of course, something only a millionaire could do and not you silly poor people.

-Dave Lumpkin

Football is BACK!

FOOTBALL TIME!

Anyone who has known me for any amount of time knows that every time a new Football season starts, I become the world's most gigantic homer leading up to the season.  Now to clarify for the one single Canadian reader of my blog, I intend for the word "football" to mean "NFL hard hitting action that occurs mostly on Sundays from September through the beginning of February and is as much fun for Americans to watch as Judge Judy".  I do not mean "soccer", which is what people with questionable parenting skills do to their children every summer so that they can fight with other parents in the stands during games".

Now that we have all that clarified, I'd like to go entirely on record before the start of the 2011-12 season and predict (again) that this year the Dallas Cowboys are going 16-0 and will skip care-freely to their first Superbowl win in over a decade.  Jerry Jones and Tony Romo will both be canonized by the Catholic Church while still alive and the Washington Redskins will completely suck and be demoted as an organization to playing college ball for the ACC immediately after Dan Snyder goes to Hell.

Now the Dan Snyder going to Hell part is something that even Redskin fans can agree on, BUT that's all we really have in common.

Now, I've made a point of saying that everyone makes mistakes in life and I've made a gigantic one.  I married a Redskins fan.

As a Cowboys fan from a long lineage of Cowboys fans in the family (not to mention that 1.74 trillion percent of my family are ordained ministers), this is the scarlet "A" that I must bear until I meet my maker (which will be tomorrow if my wife reads this article).  It also subjects me to the shame and failure of family moments like this whereby my two year old daughter was abused monstrously by being forced to wear this horror:

FAIL

So my point is this.  Nobody outside of the new Dallas stadium is perfect, unless my wife gives me "the look of justice", and then MAYBE she is.  I can also safely say that I will be mired in doom and gloom two games into the season when the Cowboys have once again started dreadfully and are 0-2.  I know for a fact that due to the Cowboys in conference schedule that my marriage is legally null and void twice a year.

So if you're a Dallas fan in her late twenties who's is a 10 out of 10 that's somewhat "top heavy", please click on all of my Google Ad-Sense advertising.  In the meantime, if you're a Steelers fan who happens to like kids, I have a third rounder I'm getting ready to make a free-agent.

-Dave Lumpkin

Team Jacob Goes Potty

Dogs are Dummies

I'm going to confidently say that I KNOW FOR A FACT that it's not breaking news when I declare that all dogs are dumb.  By "all dogs" I really specifically mean "my particular dog" because I want to avoid the random PETA hate and private letters from everyone who has a dog with an actual job that serves a purpose.  On behalf of 99% of ugly people in the world, we have terrible luck when it comes to making broad generalizations.  If for example, someone like Jessica Alba made the sweeping comment that "all Canadians enjoy yellow snow" 60% of us would investigate it for truthfulness and the other 40% of us wouldn't bother because we already accepted it as fact once she mentioned it.  I digress..

My wife, who ought to have a de facto law degree from Harvard due to the countless hours of Judge Judy she's watched, has made the error-ridden argument that dogs are smart.  She cites the examples of the apparent understanding of English that our dog "Hunter" possesses and the fact that he knows how to go potty.

I believe entirely otherwise. and here's some of the evidence I can present:

1. While my wife isn't around, I've called the dog by a made up name "Poopy-Head" and he answers to it
2. He looks dumb
3. He appears to speak Pig Latin as long as I point toward the door where he goes potty
4. The cats have told me he's dumb
5. I asked my 2 year old her opinion and she thinks the dog is dumb
6. I presented Hunter with an I.Q. test and he tanked it
7. Even my brothers know how to go potty
8. Because I said so (which is only a valid argument if my wife is gone for more than 30 minutes)

Add to that very loose and unsanitary sexual standards and basically I have a teenager living with me.

Perhaps I'm upset that there's actual teenagers out there earning a decent living while mine is busy licking himself.  Heck, some teens even help their parents out with the bills.  My dog/teen hasn't even mowed the lawn in over 10 years (I'm not saying I have either, I'm just sayin').  Basically all of Team Jacob is a lazy worthless lot.

And If you know about team Jacob, we have something else to discuss entirely.

The moral of this story is:  You will gain unlimited personal satisfaction from mindlessly clicking my Google Ad-Sense advertising 18 trillion times.

-Dave Lumpkin

Spanish Conquistador Brassiere Trickery

The Meaning of Life Is in Your Partner's Shirt

  Life doesn't really make sense.  In fact the further we scientifically try to define our purpose here, the more we get lost in minutiae.  Fortunately, this fact allows for a lot of quackery whereby people charge billions of dollars to coach and guide us and help us find definition.  These people are called things like "doctor", " guru" sometimes "reverend" (I need to tread real lightly here as 100,000% of my immediate family are ordained ministers) and say important things like "Mmm-hmm" and "it-is-what-it-is".

The fact of the matter is that everyone is pretty much wondering the same things as you and I.

Why, for example, am I reading a blog with a picture of a very egotistical guy wearing a replica Spanish Conquistador Helmet on his head that appears to have been drinking?

Why do women have a really neat and sophisticated "bra-trick" that they can all perform, while there is no corresponding "Underwear Trick" that guys can perform that doesn't cause immediate and permanent injury?

Why has Lindsey Lohan not received the death penalty for her stupidity yet?  Why have 85% of us blindly accepted our situation in life and continue to drudge along with out attempting to make things better while we allow predatory organizations to feed off of us while we accept their rhetoric for fact?

Ok, that one slipped---

If you'd like the secret to life I happen to have it right here.  All you need to do is click rampantly and feverishly on all of my Google Ad-Sense advertising to both the right and left of this article.  After that please contact me directly so I can arrange for you to deposit $99 in my pay pal account and I promise something will happen to you!

HAHA JUST KIDDING ANYONE READING THIS ONLY NEEDS TO MAIL ME $74!  Do that and you will soon realize that I, in all my glory and marvelous Spanish Conquistador Replica Helmet have as many answers as everyone else.  I also cost a lot less. 

Your life "Is-what-it-is", at least until you decide to do something about it.  Mmm-hmm.

The Keith Richards Standard

On a scale of 1-10... Ten being Brad Pitt, George Clooney or Lady Gaga after a twelve pack, and One being  Keith Richards at any point in his life with his shirt off.. I am a One-Point-Three.  This is compounded by the fact that I can't seem to find a cure for getting older (never-mind the small fact that I haven't really been trying either).

Unfortunately, because I am the FURTHEST thing from a show-biz quantified "triple-threat" this means I am doomed to have a normal life for ugly people.  Fortunately, the baffling standards by which women choose their mates means that I am quite able to pollute the genetic gene pool with my offspring.

Therefore, I have chosen to do so by spawning an almost welfare-esque amount of children, that thankfully only somewhat look like me.

It occurred to me that human women have the worst standards for mate-choosing in the entire universe.  This is easily proven by counting the number of times people like Keith Richards, Lyle Lovett and several of my friends have had sex.  Clearly, genetic purity has ZERO to do with it.

Don't get me wrong, there are men so filled with testosterone and imbalanced hormones that they would reproduce with anything remotely resembling a mammal (and even then wouldn't tell an amphibian "no").  I used to hang out with all of them in high school and college.  They, however are detrimental to my argument, so I am going to pretend that they don't exist and you'd do well to ignore them also so that my argument will be air-tight from here on out.

What I mean to say is that when a woman chooses a man to eventually settle down with, looks appear to have very little to do with anything.  Confidence, self-absorption and the ability to sound important from time to time appear to be winning traits.  Furthermore, a general aura of dis-interest draws women like a magnet.

So the moral is this:  If you're reading this and you're an ugly guy having problems scoring, stop trying.  If I had only listened to this advice when I was 23 then I'd be remarkably wealthier and wouldn't be seen driving a mini-van once a week.  It would also take me much less than 200 billion years to get me and the kids in and out of a public restroom after watching a completely terrible movie, like..oh, I don't know...Captain America.

If you're reading this and you happen to be my wife then HAHAHAHA JUST KIDDING DEAR I LOVE YOU, and I consider myself to be extremely fortunate that you have the worst standards ever.

Morgan Freeman Credibility

 Because I'm extremely self-important and otherwise a gigantic douchebag, I've decided to go back to blogging.  So here are some new thoughts that I hope inspire someone else to a bigger better idea than my own so that I can sue them and take credit for it!

Recently it occurred to me that I'm getting old and some of the wonderful things that I think about ought to be written down somewhere out of the way on the internet, but still be accessible so that I can look back over them later and re-inspire myself.  I really do spend a lot of time thinking about odd things that might otherwise make me look nerdy or just smart enough to be an idiot (if that makes sense).  I've also come to the conclusion that just about ANYTHING in life can be accomplished by someone who is willing enough and charming enough.  The basis for what we consider to be the American meritocracy is a gigantic sham.

This thought hit me the other day when I was watching the Science channel in HD while trying to go to sleep.  There's a show on there called "Through the Wormhole" hosted by Morgan Freeman.  First of all, the Science Channel makes me feel smart because I typically have some small grasp of what their talking about and can quickly segregate moronic theories from those that are otherwise intriguing.  That is entirely to say that if it doesn't intrigue me then it's entirely stupid!  For example, there was a guy on there who claimed that the universe was a decahedron and proved it by blowing up a balloon into a decahedron made out of plastic...

Perhaps you see my point now, and I'm the one who bombed out of the astrophysics program at UNM while this guy is on television with Morgan Freeman.

The other thing about this show is that it's hosted by Morgan Freeman, who in his role in Bruce Almighty proved that he is just loveable enough to play God.  I don't have a man crush on Morgan Freeman per se, I think he's adorable like a cute, albeit old kitten.  He instantly lends credibility to anything he talks about because of the way he talks.  He's magnificently charming.

I, on the other hand, have these genetically flawed eyebrows that make me look like a complete jerk everywhere I go.  Everyone always thinks I'm in a bad mood and asks me what the problem is..which in turn puts me in a bad mood.  Fortunately for me, the internet is somewhat still young and you don't have to see my face all the time (yet), all you have to do is read (and click on all of my advertising so I can make $23450327 off of Google Ad-Sense).

So there you have it.  From here on out, simply think in your mind that all of my thoughts in future blogs are written by Morgan Freeman and we will get along quite nicely.  In the meantime, I'm going to write a lot more things about the past present and future that may just alienate me from normal society, but that will hopefully jog YOUR mind and perhaps awaken an idea in YOUR head.

Furthermore, I promise not to restrict my thoughts to certain subjects and I promise that somewhere I will print something awful and shameful.  Until then...