I thought I saw it all: poorly thought out dirty puns or double entendre and naughty plays on words, but nothing can prepare you for Sadboy.
There are stories we tell to one-up each other, and then there is this blog. Read wondrous tales of strange creatures, explore the depths of human indecency, and hopefully laugh a little as we find out what could possibly make people do what they do.
I thought I saw it all: poorly thought out dirty puns or double entendre and naughty plays on words, but nothing can prepare you for Sadboy.
Next week I'm going for the Freshman 15. Fifteen IDs - including eight in one night - to break my daily and weekend record with the new crop of college kids thinking we're the easy bar.
"What did we do?" Is one of my favorite responses someone says to me after being caught with a fake. It screams privilege.
I thought Canadians were supposed to be nice? But, like Gremlins, they turn into nasty little creatures when they imbibe too many Busch Light tallboys.
The path to 200 IDs was one of the most exciting roller coasters I've ever ridden. But like coasters, the adrenaline fades and all you can do is prepare yourself for the hill to climb.
I'm not sold on getting another cake for 200. Frankly, my body doesn't need it and there was so much left over. Any suggestions?
I've been asked this question more often than height or shoe size in the last few weeks. And it's getting old. Why do I wear the gloves? Because y'all are nasty.
Fights hardly ever evolve as you see them on screen. Punches never land as crisp while kicks appear more brutal. Nobody walks away unscathed.
There's nothing quite like a dozen strangers yelling that you suck at the top of their lungs. I mean, I'm used to it by being a Wisconsin fan in Michigan, but they didn't know that.
Meeting new people is easy, making the first impression is hard. It's even harder when the person initiating that first impression is three sheets to the wind and won't get a second chance.
Words to the wise. If you are using an ID that isn't yours, pay attention to where the city is, especially if the state is shaped like a mitten.
I'm a hair over one-quarter of the way to another cake. I have sniffed out 126 fake IDs since mid-August, an average of 14 per month.