I'm not misogynistic, but...

• Woman, make me a sandwich!
• I don't think women should play sports... or at least not at the same time as I am playing. Basically, stop slowing me down on the golf course. I don't want to have to wait twenty minutes to mess up every shot. It already takes me forever and a day. 
• I only catch the male version of each Pokémon. 
• No, seriously. Woman, make me a sandwich!
• I got 99 problems and a bitch is one.
• "If I can't batter the women, how the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then?" is my favorite Eminem lyric from the song "Rap God."
• Where is my sandwich? I'm not getting one, am I? No. Oh, OK. 

Spring Broken

Finally, the East Coast catches a break with the weather... a spring break, that is. It's like 50 degrees or something, which is almost tropical compared to the winter we've had. All of the snow might finally melt, fingers crossed. Also, it's Spring Break, with a capital S and capital B. Most college classes are closed this week, leaving students to fester in their own boredom, or their own bedroom? Unless, you go somewhere fun, like an island, or China. Either way, you're out of the house. That house, man, that house. It lures you in with it's homesickness and then... Blam! nothing to do. I'm out of the house, breaking in spring the right way. I won't say where... cough *House of Cards* cough. I'll keep it short this week, cause I feel like it's been pretty good already. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm clever. Alright, well, take a break this week. See ya. 

Twitch Played Pokémon

Have you ever wondered what it would be like if 90,000 nerds on the internet got together to try to cooperatively play the Red/Blue versions of the video game Pokémon? Me neither. But apparently, that's what happened. It didn't take long for anarchy to ensue, leaving democracy somewhere even the Helix Fossil couldn't find it. (All praise the Helix Fossil!!!) Soon after Pidgeot was crucified as Bird Jesus, the game caught on like Pokémon White on rice. Twitch suddenly became as household of a name as (insert someone nobody has heard of here). The internet was swept up in a whirlwind of Pokémon memes, catchphrases, gotta catch 'em all phrases, Gifs (soft g), Gifs (hard g), imgur photos, Facebook statuses, YouTube videos, and more, overshadowing the Olympics completely. Much like Ash Ketchum, everywhere you turned there were Pokémon. And much like Ash Ketchum, you just kept banging your head against the wall, unsure of how to escape this Nightmare on Professor Elm's Street.

Badges were actually acquired, Pokémon were caught, and a list of fighters was assembled, all while Ash turned seventeen times before moving forward and then backwards. 

Things really got interesting in the middle of the game when, on a day that will only be known as Sunday Bloody Sunday, many Pokémon were released by mistake. Ash's PC took a real beating that day.  

The thing that shocked the game back to life was when they actually managed to catch Zapdos, an electric bird. Move over Bird Jesus! There's a new sheriff in town. The Elite Four stood in the way between them and the final prize. S.S. Ticket (Now is not the time to use that!)

But in the end, against all oddishes, 90,000 nerds came together when they beat the game and started to sing We Are The Elite Four Champions. The battle was over. What destruction hath been wrought?

Now, what happens when the game is over, you ask? Why, it's time to start Crystal Version! http://www.twitch.tv/twitchplayspokemon 

An Uber Amount of Lyfts

Have you ever heard of Uber and/or Lyft? (Your answer here doesn't matter; I'm going to explain them anyway.) Uber and Lyft are sort of like cab services, but where the cab driver is you. Or someone like you. And it's someone who doesn't drive a minivan or a yellow car with a glowing plastic triangle on it. It's a Nissan Maxima or some comparable vehicle. So, first you go onto your preferred mobile device and download the app(s). Then, you sign up, but you also put in your credit card information. (Stay with me. Believe it or not, this is not the sketchy part.) After that, it's ready to go, and you can request a driver. They even tell you how far away the drivers are from you in minutes. (That's a nice feature.) So then you request one by clicking a button saying you want one. And, if someone is available, they will show up in the designated amount of minutes. And then you get into a regular looking car with a random person that you don't know. (This is the sketchy part.) When the ride is over, they charge your credit card. But, that being said, I've used Uber 4 times and Lyft once, and I'm still alive. (I mean, I've been robbed five times, but I'm still alive.) However, something I did realize when I started using them is that I am substantially more racist than I thought I was. I'll work on that. Right now, I'm using promotional rides, so every ride I've had has been free. That is my favorite price for a cab/random person. What you're paying for is convenience, but it's cheaper than buying a car for every need to go somewhere now and again. I like it. It makes my Monday a little easier. 

*Note: Uber and Lyft are not paying me to say this. (But I am open to them doing so.) 

Dave's Way (Too Long... and Not Here)

I finally found it. The search is over. All of my years of hard work have led to this. I now know where the slowest Wendy's is. It's right between Baum Boulevard and Centre Avenue, just west of Graham Street in Pittsburgh. Phew! What a relief!

Now, I know what you're thinking. "No Charlie, my local Wendy's takes 5-ever to get me my food." Well, that may be, but this Wendy's is slower. Your gonna hate the way they cook.  I guarantee it.

When I got in there, the line was about five people long. Ten minutes later, I gave my order of nuggets, fries, and an ice tea. Complicated, I know, but doable. Ten minutes go by, and I am still waiting. The people before me have all received their food. Another ten minutes go by, and I am still waiting. The people behind me have all received their food.

Listen, I get it, I'm forgettable. It's very hard to remember someone like me. But that being said, I didn't order anything you have to actually cook. It's all reheated straight out of the freezer anyway, and by reheated, I mean deep fried. "Always fresh, never frozen." Never frozen when you get it because it was deep fried before they gave it to you. My tone with them is the only thing that is always fresh. 

What's that you ask, lady behind the counter? What did I order? Well, I had an iced tea, which you gave me and I've drank half of, a six-piece chicken nuggets, and a large fries. Oh, your sorry? Thanks, but that doesn't really satisfy my hunger, which is maybe ironic, cause I'm about to make you eat those words.

I pull out my handgun. Give me all of the ketchup you have, or the lemonade machine gets it. She shovels ketchup into the bag. I fire a warning shot into the air. "This is what happens when fast food becomes slow," I shout at the top of lungs. I back away slowly, gun still aimed at the lemonade machine. I duck out of the front door and scurry off into the crisp, frigid night. When life gives you lemons, shoot the lemonade machine. 

High 2.5

I want to tell you about that moment, when your five fingers smack into another person's five fingers. Have you ever gone in for a high five with someone you know because one of you said something stupidly profound and/or profoundly stupid? And you're so ready for it. As your hand is flying through the air, you are hyper aware of how you're doing everything right. You've got your hand as straight as a ruler, your looking down the scope of a sniper rifle at the other person's elbow, and you've timed it perfectly. Your hands collide at that victorious moment, but the sound is just ever so slightly off. And the other persons hand is a lot smaller than you thought. In fact it's squarer too. And bony. Oh wait, that's a fist. Awkward...

(XLIII - VIII) = (43-8)

Did you watch the Super Bowl last night? Or as I call it the Not-So-Super Bowl. Was it just me, or was it kind of boring? I mean, I haven't seen that many people drop the ball since New Year's Eve. Also, the score was 8 to nothing at one point. That seems so strange to me. A safety and 2 field goals. Yuck! Then, there was halftime. Bruno Mars featuring the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I would have done that the other way around, in my opinion, because one man should not have an established band guest spot his set, despite the fact that it was Bruno Mars. He didn't even sing Marry You, or my better version of the song, Roofie You. So disappointing. I just don't know. There were some good commercials, but honestly I saw more guest stars on New Girl and Brooklyn 99 combined. And I laughed harder. Well, I'm off to Africa to score me a t-shirt that says that the Denver Broncos are Super Bowl XLVIII Champions. Catch ya next week when I touch down in the USA. (FOOTBALL PUNS!!!!!!)  

Dressed to Chill 2: The Fabric of My Life

It has recently come to my attention that the way one dresses matters in other people's opinions of said person. Does it? You know clothes are just an improvement of a loincloth, right? Or better yet a bunch of loincloths of the same color sewn together? I don't get it. We should all be comfortable. That's why I'm announcing the grand opening of my premiere clothing emporium, Charlie's Closet. Here is the manuscript of the radio advertisement that I took out. 

Come on down to Charlie's Closet Emporium!! We've got a little bit of everything you'll need to wear clothes. You want khakis? We've got khakis. You want jeans? We've got khakis. You want sweatpants? Light gray or dark gray? You want watches? We've got one Nike+ Fuelband, where our slogan is, "Yeah, there's a watch in there somewhere. Did you try pressing the button?" And if it's shirts your're looking for, well, look no further. You can get one in any size as long as it's a large. Long sleeve, short sleeve, you name it. And have you heard of our shoe selection? Sneakers and boot galore. We're located in the bedroom of a heavily painted apartment building. For a limited time, everything in the store is 100% free. That's right! FREE! Zero cents. You just have to pay a service fee that varies by product, as low as $2.99. But act quick, because come trash day, EVERYTHING MUST GO! So come on down, and dress the most comfortable you've ever dressed in your life, no matter what your friends think. Because remember, everyone is different. (Cash only.)

A Bucket of Troubles

My name is Charlie. Because of that, I get the same questions over and over again. No, I didn't bite your finger. No, I don't want to go to candy mountain. And finally, no, I don't own a chocolate factory... anymore. I sold that wretched piece of property years ago. Do you know what Wonka did? He left me with a decrepit piece of land and a factory that was falling apart and rotting from literally everywhere. Can we talk about this for a minute? Let's start with that Wonkavator. You wanna know how I got back after we burst through the freaking roof? I jumped!! It dropped down low enough, and I took my chances with a large tree. Where's Grandpa, Wonka, and the Wonkavator? Hell if I know. Haven't seen them since.

When I got back, that place needed massive renovations. All new pipe work, machine parts, the whole deal...and then the lease ran out. Boy, Wonka sure timed it perfectly, handing me a factory with an almost expired lease. And what about papers transferring the property to me? Let's just say that my golden ticket did not hold up in court. I had to sell a lot of things to pay the city back. We had a massive yard sale, the Oompa Loompas and I. Then sadly, I had to let half of them go. The half that I din't let go unionized, to absolutely no one’s surprise, and I found myself the target of some pretty harsh attacks. I remember their signs like it was yesterday: "Oompa loompa, do-ba-dee-DON'T! 

I kept thinking "Why me? Why did I have to win? Why couldn't it have been one of those other rotten children?" But they were bad from the start and died because of it. I was the warrior. Oh yeah, they all died that day. I couldn't save any of them. You think I know how to unshrink a small boy or deflate a purple girl? Nope. 

Things started to pan out, it seemed. The factory was running around 75%. The death threats stopped coming. I thought we might actually make it through. We did have to get rid of the fizzy lifting juice, though. Turns out, that shit gives you cancer. They caught it early, but... I don't know. We scrapped the program anyway, just to be safe. Was it around that time that we discovered the ants? I think it was. You couldn't possibly think that one can run a factory with rooms made of candy and not have ants, could you? Luckily for me, Slugworth knew an exterminator.

I don't mean to complain. My life now is pretty good. I'm a retired chocolate factory owner and my current wife is a retired Realtor. That's kind of how we met. She says I'm too bitter from the whole experience and that's why my other three wives left me. Yeah, that's why! (Lots of crazies out there, if you catch my drift). Oh, and this marriage thing is new for me, seeing as I only found a wife when I retired. I call that factory my Ever-Lasting Cockblocker. Listen, I tell my tale as a cautionary one. Take Old Man Bucket's advice: If a deal seems too good to be true, it probably is.

- Charlie Bucket

What Can I Say?

No, seriously, what can I say? Cause, I'm kind of struggling here. No clue what to write. 

Getting past writer's block for me is kind of tough sometimes. I spoken about it before, well, not spoken, written about it before, but that doesn't make it any easier. There's no magical way to repel over that wall inside my mind. And I've never been interested in rock climbing.

Did you watch the Golden Globes last night? I recommend doing so. It was good. Tina and Amy are great at hosting and a lot of good shows and movies won well deserved awards. I won't say who, cause that would be a spoiler alert, and our culture forbids it. But like, Breaking Bad won stuff. American Hustle did too. Sorry

This is one of those "read it as a study break, then go back to work" weeks. I apologize.