Me: keep it sexy

Me: but like toni braxton sexy

Me: its classier that way

Butang: yeah much more so than trina da baddest bitch

Butang: no class

Me: exactly

Me: a lady in the street and a freak in the bed, thats what I always say

Butang: haha

Me: i hope i quote rap lyrics to my grandchildren

Me: "You know grandson you have to wear a condom, because if you don't you'll wind up like Kanye's cousin who "caught something on the Usher tour he had to let it burn""

Butang: its weird knowing that we'll know all the words to forgot about dre when we're 80

Me: You think they ll play baby i like it raw when we're going to senior mixers?

Butang: hahhahaa

Knowing is Half The Battle

Most guys really hate when their girl PMSes, I am not one of those guys. It’s not that I particularly enjoy “that time of the month”; I just think fertility is damn sexy. That river of blood that runs between your thighs eventually stems and leaves behind a valley as fertile as the Nile’s. That’s hot and I don’t give a shit that my mom might read this. I think the most important part of your PMS going smoothly has to do with what is perhaps your greatest propensity for deception: Telling me your PMSing.

            If you cramp and bloat you take Midol, if you have a headache you take Advil, but what happens when you get all cranky, moody, and emotional? There’s only one pill for that honey, and that’s communication. But women don’t want you to know when they’re PMSing because they give up tremendous power.

            Consider the following: Your girlfriend starts crying during a romantic movie. You don’t think much of it and dry her tears being the saint you are. You cuddle with her and let her know everything is fine between the two of you. She is confused because she didn’t think the movie had anything to do with your relationship. She becomes more emotional and starts picking a fight with you. All of a sudden you are defending your manhood and your love for her. You do this with intense vigor confessing your undying love for her to avoid a fight. Game, set, match, all of a sudden she is happy as a clam. Her mood comes and goes with eerie quickness. HOWEVER, if you knew she was PMSing the situation would’ve played out differently. She would’ve started to cry at the movie and you would’ve laughed and said “hahahah get over it babe, you’re just PMSing”.

            Girls need continuing emotional support and PMS allows them to obtain it without justifying seemingly overly emotional behavior. Girls think if they tell you, your rationality will wipe out any good will and emotional support. Well ladies it seems we’ve come to a sperm and egg dilemma once again. If you tell me you are PMSing I will be better equipped to handle it and I promise I will support you emotionally. So there! Now it’s time to keep up your end of the bargain.

            I was recently introduced to this site: pmsbuddy. It seems like a good idea for both parties. Now I know when to make you feel extra loved and when to avoid Hugh Grant films like the plague. Guys I think its worth giving it a shot, and girls its time to be open to new ideas. At least this way, your monthly fertility reminder doesn’t have to be a real life game of minesweeper. I’m Theodore Jones and this is The Gumption.

P.S. That's Bob Cobb.

Create Your Own Caption

Video of the Week

FAIL!

More Fabric Please!

            A very happy birthday to Butang today! It just so happens that a funny thing happened on the way to his birthday brunch on Saturday. On the first truly warm day of the year, the cab driver that was my chauffer snidely remarked: “It was better when it was winter.” I did a double take. “Are you kidding me man? This winter was brutal.” He turned around at the red light and pointed to a rather hefty female crossing the street. “I didn’t need to see that.” I almost pissed my pants.

            I don’t know why four hundred pound women of ghetto descent shop at Baby Gap, but it seems to be a fact of life in this fair city. Cottage cheese arms and seemingly limitless cleavage from sagging 48EEE breasts are almost as plentiful as taxi cabs themselves. These people must believe they still weigh the same as they did at thirteen. Or perhaps they just haven’t been shopping since then, either way something has got to give.

            Put on some fucking clothing, please I beg of you. It is one thing to “accentuate your curves”, it is quite another to be imitating “Stay Puft” (pictured) on a regular basis. Older men are not immune to this either. If when you look down you can’t see your dick, tank tops are out of the question. Come to think of it, if you can’t see your vagina, tank tops are out of the question. Unless of course you are pregnant, hell hath no fury like a pregnant woman. I digress.

            This summer, food is going to be very expensive, so here’s an idea: EAT LESS OF IT! Then you’d be able to fit into that halter-top you got when Method Man first rocked a solo album. Until then, invest in a bra that functions as a harness and for god sakes buy some beefy t shirts. Thanks. I’m Teddy Jones and this is The Gumption.

Ugly Suits, Smoke Screens, and You!

            If there’s anything that makes me want to pull my fur out, it’s the NFL Draft. First of all, the total disregard for fashion is stifling. I’ll say it; Mel Kiper Jr. looks like the love child of Pat Riley and a rabid porcupine. It’s a wonder this guy isn’t married; I guess when the girls see Mel Kiper Jr. Jr. they are put off by the matching hair-dos. That’s disgusting, I know, I’m sorry. I’ll lay off Mel, he’s not the only one turning the WaMu Theatre into an episode of “What Not to Wear”. Who the fuck tells these kids that they look good in those suits? I honestly want to know what lackey is sitting at Saks with these kids going: “Damn Jamarcus, on the biggest day of your life you should definitely rock that canary yellow suit with that aqua ascot. We all know you’re going to the Raiders, but fuck that mother fucker, silver and black is boring!”

            I digress as usual, but I’ll level with you here. Besides the fashion, the two things I hate the most about the draft are the media/team interplay, and the flip-flopping that goes on by the so-called experts. First I will examine the interplay.

In case you haven’t figured it out yet, this is what happens. Teams spread rumors via the press so that other teams are forced to make moves. For example: The Seahawks are leaking out that they are interested in drafting Mark Sanchez because in theory it makes sense. To the layperson it seems Hasslebeck (their current QB) is getting older and they need a plan for succession. While that may be, Seneca Wallace did a descent job filling in as a backup, and this a team that has absolutely dominated their division until one hiccup last year. For that reason I would assert that the Seahawks are a team that is really built to win now, and when Hasslebeck is healthy they are pretty good. You forget (along with the rest of the NFL), that before last year Hasslebeck hadn’t missed more than four games in a season. Adding a back up or even third string QB with the number four pick in the draft almost never happens. Can you think of an example? I can’t. The Seahawks are basically taking advantage of the ESPN hype machine creating a market for their pick.

            By doing this Seattle ensures that the Redskins, Jets, or some other shadowy figure will feel the urgency to break the bank and trade up to get Sanchez. It’s the Seahawk’s hope that they will wind up netting more picks further down so they can avoid paying an unproven commodity “Top 5” money.

I guess just like the rest of the NFL season, the hype has become the real entertainment. Never mind the actual product, speculation is where the real excitement is! I hate that ethos, but unfortunately it seems to have become the norm. I’d rather just watch the draft and see what happens, plus there isn’t really enough time for speculation in the fifteen minutes in-between picks.

            The flip-flopping is where the real fun starts. Lets take a good look at Percy Harvin because the dude is a fucking stud. I know I’m a little bit of an SEC homer, but this guy was the best athlete in college football the past two seasons. There’s just one little problem: he got caught smoking pot. Consequently, all week you are going to hear analyst after analyst tell you about Percy’s “off the field problems”. I’m not condoning this man’s recreational drug use, but I will say this: After Percy drops the 15 picks that are requisite for such an offense, those same analysts are going to compliment the team that takes him on an almost embarrassing level. They’ll say “What great value to get an athlete like Percy Harvin with the 42^nd pick in the draft, he was arguably the best athlete in the country the past two years.” “You know Mel, I think the Bills had the best draft, to get Hugh Bizzalls where they did, and then Percy Harvin that late. Brasstacks GM has a future in this league!”

            So let me get this straight, with the 18^th pick Percy is the next Pacman Jones or Ted Kaczynski, but at the 42^nd pick he is the next Randy Moss or Reggie Bush? It doesn’t make any god damn sense whatsoever, but I haven’t gotten to the best part yet. Chances are Percy has a solid five years in the league before he destroys his ACL, he’s too good not to and failing one drug test doesn’t make him OJ Simpson.

The best part is that you know someone who will be drafted in front of Percy (already labeled a “can’t miss”) will wind up being the biggest bust of the draft. Someone like I don’t know…..Andre Smith! Remember this guy? He skipped the Sugar Bowl to sign with an agent and according to some reports has added 70 pounds of fat since then. One scout said he looks like “he’s just given up”. Todd McShay will tell you on draft day about Andre’s “tremendous upside” and Mel has him in his mock top ten. When he can’t block this year because he quit caring, fans will boo, sports talk radio will crucify him, and he’ll be out of the league quickly. Then next year when the next offensive tackle starts pulling the same shit and acting like a clown, Todd will be front and center calling him the next Andre Smith. You flip and you flop and your analysis is slippery slop.

Oh and one more thing! The immediacy with which experts are grading teams’ drafts is an exercise in retardation. Basically the only thing that has changed is that now we know what teams these guys are on. They still haven’t played a down in the league therefore we still know nothing. I remember Mel Kiper Jr. gave Jerry Reese’s (The Black Jesus) (pictured) first draft a “C”. I guess that “C” was for “C” you holding the Lombardi Trophy you glorified “Kaboom”. “Lack of top end speed” and “disappointing vertical leap” my ass.

Needless to say, I will be watching the draft with the sound turned off so I can enjoy it! You’ll always be my number one pick; I’ll always be Teddy Jones right here at The Gumption.  

Video of the Week

Is it just me who misses the good old days?

Create Your Own Caption

Kabooms

            As general douche baggery runs rampant in our society, it’s vitally important to arm yourself. Put away the semi-automatic weapon Marlo Stanfield, I’m talking about developing a keen ability to sort out the douche bags from the non-douche bags. Today down at The Gumption we are saluting those who make this process incredibly easy.

Is there a more in your face indicator of douche baggery than a blow out haircut? Sir quiet honestly, your hairdo is practically a billboard advertising how much you suck/do steroids/fake tan/masturbate while staring in the mirror and flexing. While many would make fun of you, I instead thank you!

Other people hide their douche baggery behind lots of money and a modest exterior. Your superficiality does not allow you to hide behind a normal life. You are compelled to walk around looking like you stuck a fork in a socket. Apparently it has fried your skin, your brain, and turned your physique into a science experiment.

It seems your entire wardrobe has been affected by your obsession with incorrect use of electrical outlets. You do not own a single shirt with sleeves, must be because your body is consistently radiating more heat than a Red Dwarf. Oh wait; no you do own that Ed Hardy t-shirt and that one with the crazy looking dragon on it from Armani.

Gumption reader I challenge you, bring me but one man who rocks such a haircut that is a decent human being. You cannot, it is all but impossible. However, kind reader that does not mean that these people are not to be appreciated. I don’t know about you, but everyday I thank god for making neo-Nazis bald, fad chasing homos mohawked, and Kabooms blown out. Otherwise how would you ever know the difference? I’m Teddy Jones and I rock out with my cock out right here at The Gumption.

            

.....And We're Back!

This past week John Madden retired. I guess he finally realized he wasn’t going to be able to slurp Brett Favre anymore. Or maybe he left because he was tired of criss-crossing the country like a hippy on a Greyhound. Perhaps he just thought Jay Cutler was a pussy. I don’t know, I’m not a doctor, but I decided to ask John myself. The call lasted about twenty minutes; I’ve transcribed what I could below.

 

So John why’d you quit? I mean I’m sure you’re going to still be watching football all the time. What’s the deal?

 

“Yeah. Here’s a question that I don’t mind answering. It’s a good question and a question that kind makes you think about a lot of things. When I start thinking about a lot of things I think a lot about football and that sort of stuff, but I also think about other things. Sometimes I think about the financial crisis and big banks. You know they say that some of these banks are too big to fail and that makes me think about Robert Gallery. Here’s a guy when he was drafted, people were really impressed with his size, he was “too big to fail”. Unfortunately he hasn’t really lived up to the hype and he has kind of failed. And then you get Barack Obama, ok, trying to fix some things and do some things to get more involved with the economy. I think that’s a lot like me trying to make Robert Gallery unfail when he’s already failed.”

 

            Wow really interesting John, you’re saying that you’d like to see big banks fail? That’s why you retired?

 

            “You know here’s the thing about banks; banks are the offensive lineman of this economy. You’re not going anywhere without them (audible chuckle). You can call all the plays you want, you can raise and lower interest rates, you can scheme and you can double team. But if you aren’t getting an initial push from your offensive line, then you aren’t going anywhere. You know I just picture big old Walter Jones wearing a JP Morgan jersey just kind of pushing this massive boulder. Boom! Maybe even adding Steve Hutchinson in because you need guys like that to push up front. Steve’s wearing a Citi jersey, and he’s got some blood on his jersey because he’s tough and that’s what tough guys get on their jerseys. These guys are pushing hard to get this boulder rolling and then the quarter ends and they stop pushing and take a break and I wake up and I realize I’ve soiled myself.

 

            John I’m shocked! That’s really a pretty cool way of thinking about things. Is this what you’re going to be doing now?

 

            “You know, I’m not sure. Am I going to be doing this? Am I going to be doing that? I’m not sure what it is I’m going to be doing. I know what I’d like to be doing and that’s a lot of eating and watching football. That’s not too dissimilar from what I’ve been doing. It’s something that I enjoy doing. If you asked me what I was going to be doing, I would probably say something like that. I mean I guess I’d like to feed the children and all that sort of thing, but I think if I tried doing that I’d eat all of the food and miss watching football. That’s not something that I would want to be doing to the children, but I’m sure that’s what I would wind up doing.”

 

            Point taken, what about this up coming season? Any thoughts?

 

            “Yeah you know you have Jay Cutler and is he going to be traded? Is he not going to be traded? Who is he going to be traded to? Where am I? How is my liver? Am I going to have a heart attack? Are the Giants the team to beat in the NFC East? Did you fart? Was that me? What kind of impact is TO going to have in Buffalo? Is Al Michaels edible? Would Tony Romo make out with me on live television? I don’t know we’ll just have to find out.”

 

            Thanks John!

 

I apologize for the elongated hiatus. It’s great to have you back. I am Theodore Jones and this is The Gumption.

Dear Gumption Reader,

We're on Spring Break and will return Friday March 20th. We are sorry for any pain and suffering this may cause, but we want to stay mentally fresh so we can bring you the best content possible. Don't miss us to much, we'll be back before you know it.

Love,

Butang & Teddy

P.S. We miss you already!

Create Your Own Caption

Video of the Week

Spring Training is upon us and that reminds me about George Brett's funny story about......

(Audio is a little fuzzy at the beginning, but it gets better. NOT SAFE FOR WORK)

PLAY BALL!!!!!!!!!

Hoboken St. Patty's Day Redux

While “night drinking” produces it share of fantastic moments, I contend that “day drinking” is not merely its bastard cousin. While tailgating was a staple of my college experience, mid morning boozing has slowly receded from my existence. To quote Lee Corso: “Not so fast my friend!” This weekend I had the pleasure and honor to attend a Hoboken St. Patty’s day party, and the results were splendid. Many thanks obviously to the hostesses and a big shout to the Gumption readers who were in attendance. That said I thought I’d share a couple highlights for your enjoyment.

 

·    Upon passing a girl holding a full pizza box and eating it with her friends, I shouted: “No I will not eat your box!” Her friend in astonishment responded: “Why not?”

·    I (un)intentionally stole a chess piece from a party we attended. Said piece was a knight, and I didn’t remember I had stolen it until I sat down on it. Serves me right, the knight is on its way back to its rightful owner.

·    I stole a Cadbury Egg from under the nose of a cashier at a famous New York City pharmacy. Cadbury Eggs are amazing, thank fucking god easter is here…NO SCHLOMO! I did not return the Cadbury Egg, I consumed it quickly, forcefully, and entirely. Suck it.

·    If you have not yet had Defonte’s, I am not sure I want to be your friend. Just to let you know how good this place is: Butang refuses to venture above 14^th Street, but he has already indicated this place is good enough to make him do so. Let me put that into perspective, I have lived in the city for a year and he has never seen my apartment because of its location. However, because of the amazing freshness and abundance of flavor, he will make the jaunt for a “sangweech”. Try it knucklehead and tell Franky that Teddy sent you.

·    I saw the guy pictured in real life. Originally I had downloaded this photo as our inaugural creature feature; to see him in real life was amazing. He is 6’4”, huge, jacked, has googly eyes, might be a heroin addict, and is scary as all fuck. He hangs outs on 23^rd between Madison Square Park and 2^nd Avenue. You have been warned!

·    Heineken now makes bigger keg cans, like “Tall Boy” versions. I was lauded for my beer selection, bring these to your next party and you can be to!

·    The Zach Shirtman story! Let me preface this by saying that I really like this kid. I know him since kindergarten, and he was the kid who always did things his own way. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? Zach was more or less a problem child who has done every drug on the planet. I still like him and I guess a part of me just feels bad for him. What I am about to unfold is completely true, and I hope you enjoy it!

 

Zach had a friend name Anne whom he is no longer close with as a result of this story. Anne got mixed up in a number of drugs that “good Jewish girls” don’t get mixed up in. Ecstasy, acid, coke, you name it she did it. Her boyfriend was the enabler; a drug dealer named Jeff. Anne reluctantly agrees to go on a family vacation to Europe, not realizing that the drugs leaving her system will cause a nasty reaction. At the same time that Anne is in Europe, Jeff is enjoying a month long stint in rehab. While Anne is taking out her withdrawal on the family, Jeff is breaking out of rehab. Jeff calls Anne and tells her he needs somewhere to crash. Anne calls Zach and asks him to baby sit Jeff in her brand new mansion and make sure that he does not touch any drugs. Zach and Jeff go on an ecstasy bender for the better part of five days in an awesome new house. Problem solved! Until....Anne’s family cuts their vacation short due to her insane behavior. Anne knowing that the family is about to walk in on Zach and Jeff confesses everything on the cab ride home from the airport. The drugs, the crazy boyfriend, and somehow that it’s Zach’s fault that she got into that crap in the first place. Whether or not that’s true is up for debate, but here’s the scene: The family arrives home in the limo and Zach and Jeff are completely caught off guard. They are rolling hard as fuck and are pouring water all over themselves. The parents walk in and find them and can’t believe what they see. The Dad asks the Zach and Jeff to carry in the luggage, they do so while sweating bullets and acting like people do who are on ecstasy. They have to finish out their bender around the family, and somehow this all becomes Zach's fault. Ahahahahah!

 

Crazy fucking story, gotta love high school friends! Welcome back, I hope you enjoyed the weekend! I am Teddy Jones and this is The Gumption. 

Finalist #4

Contestant Number Four, please don’t be a bore!

 

• Why do you hate cauliflower? Because your brothers ear was really disturbing that one time.
• Who are you? Chet Steadman
• What is the name of your shoe? “The Reel”
• What is your favorite Gumption post? Publicly Held Private Conversations 
• What performance-enhancing drug is your favorite? Old School Anabolic Steroids, “The Juice”, if you’re gonna do it, do it right!
• Who is your favorite explorer? Christopher Columbus
• Finish this statement: Teddy Jones is bizzalls.
• Finish this statement: Butang is short.
• What is your favorite moment in American History? When the Nets traded for Jason Kidd
• Who is currently the world’s biggest ass clown? Scott Boras. Can I tell you why? He’s not even good at what he does anymore. He should kill himself; he just accepted a deal he refused three times. My boss is really number one, but I can’t say that on the phone. Drew Rosenhaus, shit Barney Frank! Barney Frank!
• What really grinds your gears? Female sports announcers.
• Maple Syrup or Cinnamon AND Sugar? I prefer Syrup.
• Thelonious Monk or Coltrane? Thelonious Monk
• The Boss or The Boss? The Fuckin’ Boss, Jersey Bitches!
• Ferris Oxide or Magnesium Sulfate? Definitely not magnesium sulfate, so we’re gonna go with Ferris oxide.
• Why are you still here? Because Stone Cold said so.
• What’s your favorite sexual position (real or imaginary)? Reverse Cowgirl OTA (On Top Ass) and that’s real.
• Swamp Ass: Great feeling or Greatest feeling? I’ll go with great, it’s just great.
• What’s something nobody knows about you, but a bunch of random people are about to? I may or may not have a hernia. I also have a freckle on the inside of my left palm, and I think that bodes well for my sneaker making ability.
• Why should the Gumption public vote for you? Because my shit is the shizzzillllitttedddness. Which is just awesome.

 

Voting will open Friday morning!

Finalist #3

Contestant Number Three, we welcome thee!

 

• Why do you hate cauliflower? I don’t hate cauliflower, I love it.
• Who are you? White and Warren
• What is the name of your shoe? “The GB”
• What is your favorite Gumption post?  Protection
• What performance-enhancing drug is your favorite? Viagra
• Who is your favorite explorer? Christopher Columbus
• Finish this statement: Teddy Jones is no homo
• Finish this statement: Butang is oh god!
• What is your favorite moment in American History? When Brittany and Madonna kissed.
• Who is currently the world’s biggest ass clown? Teddy Jones
• What really grinds your gears? People who don’t hold the elevator
• Maple Syrup or Cinnamon AND Sugar? Maple Syrup
• Thelonious Monk or Coltrane? Coltrane
• The Boss or The Boss? The Boss
• Ferris Oxide or Magnesium Sulfate? Magnesium Sulfate
• Why are you still here? I’m not answering that question, that’s a stupid one.
• What’s your favorite sexual position (real or imaginary)? The Eiffel Tower
• Swamp Ass: Great feeling or Greatest feeling? Great.
• What’s something nobody knows about you, but a bunch of random people are about to? I know every single word to Bye Bye American Pie
• Why should the Gumption public vote for you? Cause I’m amazing, I don’t know.

 

Contestant Number Four will join us at 3pm, you don’t want to miss that one!

Finalist #2

Contestant Number Two, here’s looking at you!

 

• Why do you hate cauliflower? I don’t or am I supposed to come up with a reason? I don’t discriminate because they’re white.
• Who are you? Furball
• What is the name of your shoe? “Beartops”
• What is your favorite Gumption post?   The Blunder from Down Under
• What performance-enhancing drug is your favorite? Marijuana
• Who is your favorite explorer? Magellan, he gets mentioned in Tommy Boy
• Finish this statement: Teddy Jones is a rock star
• Finish this statement: Butang is a hip hop legend
• What is your favorite moment in American History? Obama’s election.
• Who is currently the world’s biggest ass clown? Paris Hilton
• What really grinds your gears? People who only use the elevator go up or down one floor.
• Maple Syrup or Cinnamon AND Sugar? Maple Syrup
• Thelonious Monk or Coltrane? Coltrane
• The Boss or The Boss? The Boss
• Ferris Oxide or Magnesium Sulfate? Magnesium Sulfate
• Why are you still here? Because you’re keeping me on the phone. Is that a good answer?
• What’s your favorite sexual position (real or imaginary)? A lady never tells
• Swamp Ass: Great feeling or Greatest feeling? Neither
• What’s something nobody knows about you, but a bunch of random people are about to? Nice try.
• Why should the Gumption public vote for you? Because my name is Furball.

 

Contestant Number Three rolls out at 1pm.

Finalist #1

For those of you who forgot, we had a little contest not too long ago. Today we bring you our four finalist interviews. Voting will be available Friday through March 21^st on the right side of the page. Good Luck!

 Contestant Number 1 

• Why do you hate cauliflower? Its like broccolis gross stepsister
• Who are you? Wottmania
• What is the name of your shoe? “That’s A Good Question”
• What is your favorite Gumption post? The Passion Contusion
• What performance-enhancing drug is your favorite? Boli
• Who is your favorite explorer? Desoto
• Finish this statement: Teddy Jones is the lovable face of the Gumption.
• Finish this statement: Butang is the adorable shitstain of the Gumption.
• What is your favorite moment in American History? I like the Trail of Tears; it was really emotional.
• Who is currently the world’s biggest ass clown? Boris Yeltzen
• What really grinds your gears? Overweight African American women who walk way too slow.
• Maple Syrup or Cinnamon AND Sugar? Cinnamon AND Sugar
• Thelonious Monk or Coltrane? Coltrane
• The Boss or The Boss? Whichever one doesn’t refer to Bruce Springsteen
• Ferris Oxide or Magnesium Sulfate? Ferris Oxide
• Why are you still here? Because this is the highlight of my workday
• What’s your favorite sexual position (real or imaginary)? The Felonious Monk
• Swamp Ass: Great feeling or Greatest feeling? Great Feeling, but I’m not a fan of swamp ass.
• What’s something nobody knows about you, but a bunch of random people are about to? I make tailgates for a living.
• Why should the Gumption public vote for you? For no reason other than I made the baddest shoe.

There you have it! Stay tuned for a second interview coming up at 11am

Bouncers will tell you

“Smoke over there”

“Stand in that line”

“Get off of that chair”

 

Bouncers will tell you

“Too many guys”

“Not in those shorts”

“Not with those fries”

 

Bouncers will tell you

“Need your ID”

“I can’t let you in”

“Please wait to pee”

 

Bouncers will tell you

“I’m finishing school”

“You gotta go home”

“You dress like a tool”

 

Bouncers I tell you

I’m sick of your games

Stop acting so mighty

You’re really quiet lame

 

Your black leather jacket

Your perpetual gut

Just work the line

Keep your mouth shut

 

You’re just a pawn

In the club owners game

And that makes us

One and the same 

Create Your Own Caption

Gumption Book Club

            GOOD LAWDY MISS MAWDY! HALLELUJAH! LORD HAVE MERCY! Why you ask? Why do we rejoice this Monday? It appears as though the Good Dr. Dollar is ready to share his secrets with the world. 

            “For quite some time now, people have been calling for Dr. Creflo Dollar to explain to the public how he is able to live such a successful life.” 

            Oh we certainly have! Dr. Dollar must have sixty messages on his voicemail from me personally, and you know Butang is straight spamming his inbox. You should’ve never tried to hold out on us, we know you paid. With a name like Dollar? Shit! You must be “young, black, and famous with money hangin’ out the anus” (M. Embetha, 1998). What is your secret to success sir? Butang thinks its your “World Famous Creflo Mustaches Rides”, I think its simply because you are a man of Jesus. Look at your cufflinks, your perfect smile, your pensive hand formation, and your duplicative wedding rings. Jesus must love you and I’ll be damn if I don’t need a wet towel. In this time of global crisis, please sir, tell us how we can live a successful life! 

            “Two people can argue on how to bake a pound cake, but the only way to determine whose recipe is right is by following the recipe and the result will be self-explanatory.”

             Fuck you…are so wise Dr. Dollar, but you don’t have to prove your credentials to me. I am a believer; I know that your recipe for pound cake is best. The way you bake in the sprinkles to make those cool colors, and your creamy, thick, sticky, and warm icing is sublime. I know it is “self-explanatory”, but I am a bit slow, could you please explain? 

            “The words that you listen to determine how you think, your thinking determines how you feel, your feelings determine your decisions, your decisions determine your actions, your actions determine what becomes your habits, your habits create your character and your character determines your outcome or destiny.” 

            Seems simple enough, the words I listen to affect the outcome of my life. Atchoo! Sorry Dr. Dollar, it seems my allergy to bullshit kicks in at the most inopportune times. Could it be you are placing so much emphasis on the words I listen to because you are an evangelist and your career depends on selling your words? If I were a betting man, I’d say your entire book attempts to prove that by listening to your words, my outcome in life will be better. Oh wait, it does? At this juncture, Butang is jumping up and down, yelling in tongues, and threatening to “cut you”. Creflo, we at The Gumption are reasonable people and we are willing to give you one more chance. Perhaps one of your followers can tell of a life redeemed? 

“I can give an example of when I was a freshman in college. I remember moving to Atlanta and the first song I heard when I got to Atlanta was a very sexually suggestive song singing to a woman about how the singer wanted to do all kinds of sexual things in all kinds of places with this woman. This song became one of my favorites. Everytime it was on the radio I turned it up loud, when I saw the music video I paid close attention, I learned the words and sung them to myself. The words I was getting were sexually driven. So those "words" determined how I thought about sex. I wanted to do all kinds of sexual things with women in all different places” 

            Oh sir you are the worst sort of heathen. You wanted to do sexual things with women in all different places! How dirty! How disgusting! I bet I know who the singer was, but let’s continue OOOOOOOOOOKKKKKKKKKAAAAAAAYYYYYYY?????? 

“ So my thinking began to dictate my emotions, and eventually how I felt about the subject began to determine what I did. I would pursue women and eventually I would convince them to do all kinds of sexual things in different places. So my actions determined what my habits were. I had a habit of being sexually promiscuous. And that became part of my character and the outcome or destination was different drama I had to deal with, (though I say I was "luckier" than most in that same situation.)” 

            Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop the bus! What is that last line supposed to mean? He is completely contradicting himself: Luckier than most in that same situation? That either means this dude was lucky not to contract Mike Vick’s herpes or he was lucky because he got a lot of ass. Either way, I have trouble feeling bad for someone attracting a lot of women and fucking them in different places. Furthermore, I fail to see how this would result in someone buying one of Mr. Dollar’s sermons. Shall we continue? 

            “In this book, Creflo Dollar is saying to get the right words (the Word of God from the Bible) and spend more time with the right words and then from there you can literally create the life you want. I encourage you to get this book and read it. But don't stop at reading it. Do it, apply it, follow the recipe.... "bake the pound cake," and see if you can start in the right direction creating the life you want.”   

            Apply this you bible beater: Fuck your pound cake Creflo Dollar, I am now drinking Will Power’s punch. I guess dire times call for great inspiration, just not from these ass clowns. I am Teddy Jones and you inspire me daily, right here at The Gumption.

The Parallel Relationship of Sex and Alcohol

            Today I am going to blow your mind a little bit, but that’s cool I’m sure you can handle it. Yesterday during lunch with the Italian Stallion it dawned on us that drinking and sex follow similar trajectories in our lifetime. Obviously drinking and sex are correlated, but the role that each of them play individually in our lives are incredibly similar when considered separately. In other words, while I understand that one follows the other, I contend that their appeal and frequency of use follow the same curve when plotted against our age. Huh? Allow me to explain. 

·    Adolescence: I need you to think back to your middle school years right before you were having sex and drinking. Guys for you this period was characterized by the ability to jerk off, but girls not yet wanting to have sex. I’ll say it, that shit was purgatory! Everyday you talked about sex with your homeboys. Blowjobs, tits, ass, blumpkins, dirty sanchezs, pictures of Pamela’s boobies (I still love you!), etc.. You yearned for the day that girls would move from 2^nd to 3^rd, and fantasized about banging that hot senior. For girls, I have no idea what the hell you were doing during this time except growing boobies, having acne, and rejecting me. Don’t worry we’re cool now, I guess, but consider the following whether male or female: Although we wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, sex was somewhat intimidating for everyone involved. No matter what kind of game we talked or how bad we wanted it, sex was pretty scary. Best case we wouldn’t be very good at it, worst case we would knock up a fifteen year old. Enter drinking and it follows the same pattern. During this period in your life, you often talked about “getting waaaaayyyysteeddd” or “knocking back a couple brew dogs”. My personal favorite was drinking something totally non-alcoholic (a bottle of Root Beer) and pretending to be “hammered!” You talked the talk, but you were far from walking the walk. Just like sex, beer was scary because it was illegal and could kill you. Every “Scared Straight” episode started with a single sip of beer and ended with someone getting pounded in the ass by Nasty Nate. To add, you parents drank and your liquor cabinet was readily accessible. The feeling to experiment was strong, but still there was something off-putting about drinking alone. Bottom line: alcohol and sex are paralleling each other, they are both within reach, incredibly tantalizing, but nonetheless quite intimidating. 

·    Late Teens: Do you remember the joy when both of these things first entered you life on a somewhat regular basis? I sure do, it was fucking great. Hey, do you remember the first time you got drunk? Neither do I. However after that moment, every single weekend was focused around one question “where are we going?” The answer is usually  “someone’s house whose parents aren’t at home”. You had to take advantage of openings and make the most of any random situation that presented itself. Basically the role of alcohol at this point in your life was, drink where you can when you can. Sex again mirrors alcohol’s role. Just like your initial foray into drinking, the first time you had sex you probably weren’t the pro you are now. To add, once you started having sex on a regular basis there was a lot of scrambling. “My parents went out to dinner, come over!” “Want to park the car in the church parking lot?” “I really want to, but my Mom isn’t asleep yet.” You get the idea; I call this the opportunistic stage for both sex and drinking. You strike when the iron is hot, but nevertheless your opportunities are limited. 

·    College: WHOA EXCESS! The Italian Stallion called this period in life “The Audacity of Abundance”. Sex and alcohol are available every single night. Remember the first week of school? The line from Wedding Crashers comes to mind: “I bet you’d like to get drunk and make some bad decisions.” And fuck yeah we made the most of it. To add to newfound availability, this is the first time sex and alcohol meet as a direct result of one another. I don’t know any kids in high school who slept with girls who got hit by trucks as a result of drinking, I can’t count how many times I’ve heard that story in college. Fantastic levels of alcohol consumption and sex are a lot of fun for a while, however as college peters out, the excess wears thin. The real world encroaches and with it dreaded moderation of both sex and drinking. 

·    Post College: Sex gets less frequent. Girls want to be in committed relationships that are leading towards marriage. Some dudes struggle to make the transition from college to the pros. Its funny to watch them because they think the first year out of school is like freshman year again. They believe women are just going to start ripping off their shirts and fucking them all over the Joshua Tree. These gents have neglected the fact that they have moved from top dog at college to the bottom of society’s barrel. Awesome. Alcohol consumption begins to dwindle the more serious work becomes. While competing against the world for your meals, showing up to work hung-over is not in your best interest. Even worse, we start to realize that going out both nights of a weekend is a chore. I heard the following complaint from a coworker the other day: “I have parties both nights this weekend and I am so fucking pissed, I’m going to be so tired next week”. I silently nod my head in agreement and come to grips with how little fun I have become. Again though sex and alcohol are following the same path. 

It’s not all bad; it seems like once you have kids you start drinking all the time. There’s not an older person I know who doesn’t drink wine or beer everyday. Viagra commercials lead me to believe that sex continues to parallel drinking. Fuck man, Cialis is like “anytime, anywhere, mother fucker you are good to go!” I’m in! I am also Teddy Jones and this is The Gumption.

 

PS It turns out those snotty Wall Street bitches from my commentary the other week WERE LIEING! Or at least they were telling half-truths. Double shame on you New York Times! 

Breast Enhancement Photography

Coconut joins us from the West Coast and below is her inaugural work!

I’ve wanted to be the Los Angeles personification of Carrie Bradshaw since I watched my first episode of Sex and the City at 16 years old. Of course, this implied that I wanted more than just the sex columnist job; I wanted the Manolos, the sex, the love, the friends and the cameras following me around showing my fascinating story to anyone willing to watch.

  My opportunity came at age 20, when I became the ‘sex, love and relationships columnist’ at UCLA.

  My introductory, self approved topic was based on my own current sexual dilemma: having sex with my ex. I didn’t want to be anything like the sex columnist before me, who seemed to preach about masturbation on a weekly basis, and I also didn’t want to seem like sex-know-it-all, dishing out rules on what good sex is supposed to be like.

  I though that by sharing some personal details and using the word sex numerous times, I could catch the reader’s attention automatically and develop a reputable following. Turns out, I really didn’t need to do any of that to gain such a following.

  It was actually my boobs that did the trick.

  Every columnist in the viewpoint section of the Daily Bruin must take a ‘mug-shot’ to be printed next to each of their columns printed in the paper. Every single writer in the history of the Bruin has been photographed from neck up, revealing nothing more than a goofy smile or stylish glasses.

  My picture is quite different. I received 30 frames where I was photographed from the ribs up. Then the photo/design department gave quite a bit of time and Photoshop effort to my mug shot. The end result was a thinned out, breast-enhanced version of myself that even plastic surgery couldn’t achieve.

  I got what I wanted. I was a virtual Ms. Bradshaw.  Some people loved me and some hated me, but both categories were equally vocal.

  If Sex and the City had granted its viewers the pleasure of seeing Carrie’s inbox, her apparent popularity would have lost some of its rank. Assuming hers would look anything like mine, it would be filled with everything from death threats to marriage proposals.

  With my boobs two cup sizes larger and my arms looking 15 pounds thinner I embarked on my wonderful, yet over-sexualized, journey via UCLA journalism. Anywhere my writing takes me, my boobs always arrive first. But I’ve come to terms with it because my cynical side predicts I get more readers this way.

  I’m years away from plastic surgery. My choice of cosmetics is now Photoshop. 

Sneezin' Season

            Unless you live in an isolation chamber, you’ve realized it’s cold and flu season. I absolutely detest getting sick, especially when its not my fault. Recently I caught a sore throat from one of my co-workers. She was “unable to swallow for a week”, but nevertheless showed up everyday. Each day I remember telling her to “stay the fuck home”, but all I got for my good advice was her sore throat. What got me so pissed about this particular instance was that I didn’t blame her. Corporate culture frowns upon taking sick days and today I have decided to delve deeper into this bovine fecal matter.

 

·    Bluff Calling: Look its obvious some people abuse sick days, but truthfully that’s their right. They are afforded X number of days with no questions asked. How many an individual takes is their own business. It’s an honor system and most people play by the rules. Those who do fuck around eventually get theirs when they run out of sick days and have to suffer through work all messed up. What drives me absolutely bananas is when you come back from a sick day and people act like you were faking it. “Sick on a 50 degree day with the sun out, yeah, right.” I’m sorry if the sun was out the day my throat decided to feel like the Mohave Desert, I have no control over that. What is it that you think I was doing? Banging the Hawaiian Tropic girls? Lifting weights? Swimming in the reservoir and watching the grass grow in Central Park? I just don’t get it; my gut reaction when I hear someone was sick is to ask how he or she is feeling. If you’re a person who would rather pick on someone for it, I think you should have a nice warm mug of go fuck yourself. Honestly, it’s the most vulnerable a person gets, accusing them of dishonesty shows that you lack even the most fundamental decency.

·    Pressure: I love how superiors make you feel like missing a day of work is the worst thing that could happen. “We really need you here everyday,” they tell you during orientation “we hired you because we need you.” That’s their way of saying; don’t take a sick day ever, seriously do not take a sick day ever. I challenge you to remember the last time you took a sick day. Upon your return, it probably took an hour for you to catch up on what you missed. Honestly no matter what kind of pressure you are under, two or three sick days in a row are not going to hurt. Don’t let your boss intimidate you, you probably make them look way better then they are, and for that alone you deserve time off.

·    “The Call”: Because of the two issues mentioned prior, “the call” is incredibly awkward. I usually like to do it the night before my sick day. For some reason this tactic adds legitimacy, and your boss will appreciate the forewarning. Also it allows you to sleep in, which is generally what you need most when you are sick. Second tip, I do “the call” via text message. An actual phone call is very awkward because you feel as though you have to sound sick. I am not very good at sounding sick, usually I just sound constipated. Text messaging also allows you to employ another legitimacy tactic. Last year when I got the stomach flu, I texted my boss at 2:30am: “Not coming in tomw, I haven’t gotten off the toilet all night”. Never in a million years could I have said that on the phone, but via text it’s amazing. Not only does your time stamp prove you’re not bullshitting (pardon the pun), you are also creating an image of your sickness. Imagery is powerful when it comes to being ill. Compare the following, a phone call notifying your boss you have a sore throat or a text message at 3:30am saying: “I’m not coming in tomw, I just woke up because my throat hurts so bad I am having trouble producing phlegm.” I’ll take the latter and a day at home resting up for 1000 Alex!

·    Fighting Through It: Macho men (and women) around your office will in some cases try and “fight through it”. This is one of the stupidest fucking mantras on earth. You are not Charles Oakley, you are not in the NFL, you are just a douche bag with a runny nose and a fever. For god sakes, put away your penis and tape measure and go home. Honestly, have you ever seen anyone in the work environment rewarded for “fighting through it”? Boss: “Everyone I want you to stop what you’re doing and put your hands together for Dave. This guy has been fighting through it all year; let’s really give it up for him! God I wish I had more people in this office like you Dave, you’re great and you have a massive dick! Alright Dave!”

 Like that? If you are sick, stay the fuck home and keep your germs to yourself. This afternoon at 2pm we will welcome Coconut (our new writer). Until then, I am Teddy Jones and this is The Gumption. 

A Word to the Homeless

            An incredibly jarring moment in any child’s life is the first time he or she observes a homeless person. Personally, I remember feeling guilty, heartbroken, and shaken to my core. Millions of questions started to run through my head. “Why is this person homeless? Is there no one who loves them? How come my family has all we could want and they have nothing? Why is he so stinky?” I considered having a place to sleep a god given right. To know that this was in fact inaccurate made me upset and gave me some awful nightmares. Could this happen to my family? Would I one day wind up on the street? I kept these questions in my head; until one day I gathered the courage to ask my mother and she assuaged my concerns.

            Since that moment, helping people has always been an interest of mine, especially homeless ones. Honestly though, homeless people are starting to piss me off. Consider the following cases and tell me if they don’t get you going.

·     No Means No: This is more an indictment of the Nashville homeless community, but if I say “no” once to your request for money, that’s it. At the Blockbuster on West End, I shit you not, there is one dude who will ask you six times if you have any change. Three times on the way in, and three times on the way out. I know that he probably isn’t all there, but honestly after the fifth time he asks I am closer to giving him a restraining order than a quarter.

·     Receptacle: There is a homeless guy outside the place where I usually eat lunch during the workweek. He stands there asking for change without a cup. Even if I had ten cents I am not going to risk physical contact. You know the phrase: “You don’t know where it’s been”, that was invented for situations like this and for people like you. Perhaps you haven’t read the Homeless Rules of Engagement Manual but this is like rule number two after “Do not under any circumstances shower.”

·     The ATM: This one gets me going every time! Butang already went into the meat of it, but consider this: The homeless person in question will open up the door for you on the way in and on the way out. They will proceed to act as if they are performing some great service. How quickly they forget that the reason the door is locked is to keep people like them out. Personally I am ok with the extra five seconds it takes to pull out my card and open the door. I am willing to sacrifice that time so that they are not living where I am banking. After watching person after person take out money, how long is it before the temptation is to great and they jack up a little old lady? Oh and its just rude for me to be taking out $100 while they are using the next ATM over as a urinal. I should really be giving them their space.

·     You Are a Beggar, Not a Chooser: A Gumption enthusiast recalled the following story the other day: “I was walking through Penn Station with my suit on trying to catch an Acela for a business trip. This homeless guy and I catch eyes. Thank god I have like 75 cents in my pocket. I put it in his cup, and he kind of snorts at me. I pause and he mumbles: ‘Thaz all ya got?’ I ask him to repeat it because I do not believe my ears, but sure enough that’s what he says.” Hold on let me take out my wallet; do you take Amex? Can you break a $100? Maybe you have a paypal account I can deposit to. Jiminy Crickets.

·     Audit Trail: Ok I learned in college that it is a fact that most homeless people use money to buy alcohol and drugs. I actually learned it at a homeless shelter from a bunch of homeless guys. I was doing a project and one told me: “The shelters done fed me, and clothed me, I need change so I can get myself a 40 man! I’m trying to have a good time like you.” Ever since that moment, I insist on knowing where my money is going. So when someone asks me for change, I say: “Well I’d rather buy you a meal, do you want a (hot dog, big mac, street meat, whatever)?” The answer is no almost 95% of the time. “Oh I just ate man.” Oh you did? Then why the fuck are you asking for change? Bottom line, I advise you to start asking people the same question otherwise you are just paying for their drug use when you could be paying for your own.

 

Homeless people stop fucking up; usually you serve a good purpose. I give you something and both you and I walk away feeling good. Don’t abuse that relationship, and speaking of abuse, a quick note. We got rid of the email list because we were abusing it on Friday. We did not mean to flood your inbox, but occasionally we will do things like that and don’t want to abuse your trust. We hope you enjoyed your weekend. I’m Theodore Jones, welcome back to The Gumption!