The Passion Contusion

Fuck you hicky! Fuck whoever invented you and fuck your weeklong healing process. Purple, red, black, blue, or that ugly “healing brown”, the hickies of the rainbow suck literally and figuratively. I would rather get a tooth filled than get a hicky, fuck it I’d rather get two teeth filled. Where is all of this animosity coming from? A frequent reader of the Gumption recently wrote me with the following story: 

            "I have a long distance girlfriend (X) and we’ve been dating for about a year or so. X and my best girl friend (Y) do not get along. I think they see each other as competition. Upon X’s last visit; she gave me a huge fucking hicky as a 'fuck you' to Y. I know X would never admit that, but I have reasons for my conclusion. Anyway, I walked around for a week looking like I’d been punched by an 8 year old. The hicky was right below my ear, and nothing could really cover it up. All my friends and co-workers went to town. I was fucking humiliated. Y has been acting really weird towards me ever since. This has me really upset Teddy. I feel like a dick and I didn’t do anything wrong! How should I proceed?" 

            Break up with X. Tell her to take her leech like tendencies and suck on someone else’s epidermis. I think this is the most territorial and inconsiderate move there is. And you know what? Guys do it too and that makes me fucking incensed. “Damn dude she was so good I lost it, it was an accident.” Bullshit there is no such thing as an accidental hicky, just like there is no such thing as an accidental baby. You were fucking without a condom, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN? All right enough of this rant without any type of logical progression; I’ll formalize my shit.

 

·       Hickies Hurt: Fact! Sex Strawberries feel like an external sore throat. You can’t lie on a pillow, you can’t bend your neck, fuck it you can’t even watch TV without constant throbbing.

·       Hickies are Visible: Say what you want about rug burns or even the clap, that shit isn’t visible. Hickies are a billboard saying: “Look at me! I was getting some ass! She was all up on my neck like The Count (pictured above), and I was way into it.”

·       Hickies are Targets Man, hickies bring out all the fucking critics. I mean you’ll always have that one friend who is cruel enough to make fun of a black eye or a broken leg. But everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, loves to make fun of a hicky. Especially the office idiot. I hate getting made fun of by the office idiot, its like “Oh you too? You’re gonna make fun of me? You pick your nose all day and wear Christmas sweaters in February, and you’re going to make fun of me? Fuck it at least I’m getting some pussy dude, wait, no, even that doesn’t make me feel better. Aw shucks.”

·       Hickies mark Territory: The following scenario works for either sex: Assume you are single and looking to mingle. You get a hicky on a Thursday night via a random hook up. The opposite sex partner who gave you that Pleasure Pimple is all but assuring you won’t be fucking anyone else over the course of weekend. You are now involuntary committed all because of a stupid fucking Lust Legion. I’m all for commitment, in fact I hate being single, but to force my hand is offensive and invasive. You can take my semen, but you’ll never take my promiscuity!

·       Hickies are Juvenile: Yeah, sure, playing soccer was awesome. So was the Ice Cream truck, AOL, cartoons, slap bracelets, checkers, Hootie and the Blowfish, and the first time you masturbated. Hickies fall into that same bucket. All that shit was grand, but face facts, you are a fucking adult and you should start behaving like one.

 

In short, don’t give hickies and don’t receive hickies. You know when the member of the opposite sex is going in for the kill. Don’t let it happen. There is one funny thing that came out of this article. I was laughing to myself: Some girls will stop at anything to make sure that you don’t put it in their ass, but them giving you a hicky is OK. Really? Fuckin' A Man. I’m Teddy Jones, and this my friend, this…is The Gumption.   

Pleasure Master

            Dude, my elementary school was fucking awesome. From the outside it reminded me of Independence Hall in Philadelphia. A late 1700s piece, its exterior was covered in red colonial brick with a large white bell tower at its mast. Inside, the vaulted ceilings felt twenty feet high. The windows creaked and ran nearly floor to ceiling. Walking inside everyday was if not anything else, exciting. Perhaps more special than the environment itself were those who taught there. A cast of the oddest characters made each day very unpredictable.

            Mr. Eusner was a fucking giant. Every bit of the 6’4” he claimed, the man scraped the ceiling, especially to a fifth grader. Eusner greased his hair straight back (Pat Riley circa 1993), with what he claimed to be polar bear fat. The man would quiet the class down in the morning by slapping a yardstick violently seven times against his desk. His teeth were yellow and almost rotted. He claimed the frostbite on his nose and cheeks were results of numerous artic blizzards. Eusner claimed his “godbrother” had saved his life during the blizzards, a man named Johannasee Jack Itukaluk.

Johannasee Jack Itukaluk. was an Inuit man who stood about 5’2”, with a thick dark mustache. Itukaluk carved for a living, and the man made some of the most beautiful limestone carvings I have ever seen. We would watch him carve a couple of artic animals over the course of a week, for which all real classes were cancelled. Eusner would then attempt to sell the Johannasee Jack Itukaluk carvings at an art sale that Friday. At the time, I didn’t realize the hustle.

The kids would run home each night and tell their parents about the amazing “Leopard Seal” they had seen created. Each night the fervor grew and by the end of the week the parents would pay ridiculous prices ($x,000) just to shut the kids up. I was more concerned Johannasee was Latin American. I felt better when I saw the Inuits on the Whopper Virgins commercial, they look just like him. Anyway, turns out Eusner got his.

Eusner was arrested while I was in college for robbing a K-Mart. Yeah, should’ve seen it coming I guess, but do you really think that’s bad? My Italian teacher got fired for teaching a seventh grader how to give head. Want more? My Tech teacher left a video on Glaciers for a substitute. Too bad he taped over it with barely legal lesbian porn. Not enough? My band conductor divorced his wife for a less then stellar looking Spanish teacher. “Come on that happens all the time”, you exclaim! Well my music teacher was arrested for bringing a bag of dildos to a mall. His intentions were to meet, seduce, and have kinky dildo sex with a fourteen-year-old girl who only knew him as the “Pleasure Master”. As it turns out, the fourteen-year-old girl was an FBI Agent, and that got me thinking. What is the worst thing(s) to get caught with by the FBI, and could anything top a bag of dildos? Keep in mind you must be able to carry this item(s) on your person. The nominees:

 

·      A signed picture of Osama Bin Laden

·      A possibly rabid endangered rodent inside of your anus

·      One gallon of your own urine

·      Any sort of genital other than your own

·      Any Rachel Ray Cook Book

·      Three blind mice

 

Ok you got me, I got to the end and seriously I couldn’t think of anything worse then a bag of dildos. I couldn’t even give a legit effort. My only hope is that while this vile individual was stuck in “federal pound me in the ass prison”, he was made to call someone else “Pleasure Master”. I’m Teddy Jones, and this is the Gumption. 

The Old Man and the Locker Room

Today at the gym

I worked on my chest

I did it with dumbbells,

Pushups, and Press

 

My shirt is all sweaty

I labored an hour

Now I am tired,

And in need of a shower

 

I grab my towel

I do it with speed

To avoid the rush known as

“The Sauna Stampede”

 

But you old man

You stand in my way

Flaunting your pubic hair

It’s old, curly, and gray

 

Now I’ve missed my shot

At the best shower stall

Because you’re meandering

As if inside a mall

 

I’ve written you this poem

I don’t like to be rude

But you hinder my progress

While consistently nude

 

God damn it sir!

Put a towel on!

Call it a day!

Stop asking me the time,

And put your Johnson away!

 

 

            Just a little fun for a Tuesday, but beware Wednesday lurks and with it………….THE PLEASURE MASTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wench

If there is something I enjoy doing more than anything else, it is calling someone something that they do not understand. Remember when you were taking Spanish and you learned your first bad word? You called everyone you knew, even your parents, “piece of shit” and the look on their faces was priceless. What if I told you I found a way to do that in plain English? Is that something you might be interested in? Great!

Most people don’t really understand the meanings of words that they use over and over again. I don’t want to get all fucking hoity toity about this; I’ll just prove my point. Remember that jackass who used to sit in the front row in college and use big words? He said things like: “Professor Bigglasses, you make a really perfunctory point, wide open urban spaces do make people happier.” Yeah well perfunctory means “consistently mediocre”, in fact its antonym is “thoughtful”. Nice one douche bag! That’s why the professor was always rolling his eyes at that guy (aside from the blatant dick sucking for grades). I digress.

I’m sure you could come up with better examples of this sort of thing, but let’s move on. There is an entire list of “old world” words that have sadly gone by the wayside. You know, the kind of insult Tybalt may have very well slung at Romeo. These words are somewhat common, but nobody really understands what they mean.

 

·       Wench- If I said, “Damn that Britney Spears is a saucy wench!” I bet you would think I was being complimentary. No sir! What I really said was that Britney Spears is an overly exuberant whore. Obviously wench in this case means whore, in other cases it can mean a “low viscous young woman”. “But Teddy, that’s not fair picking on poor Britney,” well guess what? Wench can be used to describe a man too. Hugh Grant is a wench because a wench is also an individual who frequents prostitutes. Here’s looking at you Elliot Spitzer!

·       Lush-

o      During the rainy season the plains of the Serengeti are quite lush.

o      Whilst in this time of plenty, the rhinoceros and the impala do not have to venture far to find lush vegetation.

o      On Saturday night, Mike was filling his usual role as the group’s lush pounding shot after shot of whatever was in front of him.

o      This Secretary Bird feeds almost exclusively on the lush insect population at this watering hole.

o      Originally I called you a lush because you were always blacking out, but tonight it is your voluptuousness and overwhelming sensuality that has me calling you by the same noun.

o      OMG me and my bffs love that new store called Lush!

o      Lush examples if I do say so myself.

·       Dim- Remember when your kindergarten teacher told your parents you were so “bright”? Yeah this is the complete opposite of that. My favorite part of this adjective is that when you call someone dim they think you are calling them pessimistic. “Dude what do you mean I’m dim? I think McCain is going to win!” BINGO HOMESLICE!    

·       Obtuse- The best use of this word is in Shawshank Redemption, when Andy Dufrane says to the Warden: “How can you be so obtuse?” While at that point in the movie you think Andy is just calling him “not sharp” (aka stupid), he is simultaneously using obtuse’s other meaning: “lacking insight”. Andy is referring with the latter meaning to the plan he has put in place to escape right under his nose! Sick! 

·       Dolt- Check out dolt’s synonyms on Dictionary.com: Blockhead, chump, clod, dummy, dunce, numskull, ass, bonehead, dullard, fool, goof, and idiot. That pretty much covers dolt I’d say.

·       Minx- Didn’t expect this to show up here did you? Because you remember that time Austin Powers told Allatta Fagina that she “shagged line a minx”. He was really telling her that she boned like an impudent (brazenly sexual) girl. Yes as it turns out, minx is definitely not a compliment! Well no I take that back I guess it depends. If the girl is trying to be brazenly sexual than it’s a compliment, but for your girlfriend or the new lady in your life I’d avoid this one all together. To add, calling a girl a minx is equivalent to calling her a "strumpet". You know Louis Armstrong played a mean strumpet! Stone. Cold. Pimp.

 

Got others that I’m not thinking of? Disagree with me completely? Yeah that’s cool, but instead of thinking about it SAY SOMETHING! See that little “Comments” text below this on the right? Click on it and speak your mind for god sakes! Or perhaps you insist on being obtuse.

Addendum

            “No Homo” has gotten a little stale don’t you think? For those of you not familiar with the overnight stardom of those two words allow me to explain. “No Homo” has become a suffix for a blatantly, veiled, or nearly transparent comment that might be “gay”. In its nearly transparent form: “Nice sweater…..no homo.” In its veiled form: “I’m in no position to do that…..no homo.” In its blatant form: “Damn dude you got a chunky ass, I want to make love to it…..no homo.” And God said let there be “No Homo” and there was “No Homo”….the rest is history.

            Rappers, NFL Superstars, Fraternity Brothers, and normal dudes affected by any one of these cultures have been caught up in “No Homo”. For some it was a phase, still for others it became a way of life. It’s not difficult to imagine how quickly this got old. Remember how fast adding Zs into things disappeared? Thanks D. O. Double Gizzel!

My issue is that I feel a special affection for “No Homo” because in reality it is not a gay joke as much as it is a timing joke. Those periods above used to indicate the pause (……) are the difference between pissing your pants and not even flinching. Therefore it is my hypothesis that it is the “Homo” part of “No Homo” that is dragging it down. Don’t believe me? Try these on for size!

 

·      “No Pinot” I happen to be a beer guy, wine gives me the worst fucking headache. Occasionally though, I am forced to try a sip of this very mediocre beverage. It usually happens when I am abroad or out to dinner at some fancy pants restaurant. Anyway, wine all tastes the same to my unrefined palette, so instead of looking like a fool I invoke “No Pinot”. It usually sounds like this: “Yeah that tastes great, it’s very fruity……no pinot.” Or like this: “Wow girl! That does go great with the tilapia….no pinot.” Noir or Grigio don't play with my Pinot....no homo. AH!!!!! 

·      “No Schlomo” Yeah I’m Jewish, and sometimes I make that rather obvious. I don’t know about you, but I’ll have moments with my co-workers when I cringe. The other day I said: “I think that Menorah’s are actually more radiant than Christmas trees”, and I got that stare. The stare that says, “This is the Jew who hates Christmas and would rather play with a dreidel.” I don’t hate Christmas at all; I actually find it rather uplifting. Everyone is so cheerful and pleasant, but I wouldn’t trade a single latke to be goy…..............no schlomo.

·      “No Xeno” Speaking of overzealous ethnocentricity, this is actually the exact opposite of “No Homo”. It promotes acceptance and love between all cultures by allowing you to point out when you make a Xenophobic comment. Let’s face it though our differences can be fucking hilarious, allow me to indulge. “Damn dude I’m trying to get that Arab Money…..no Xeno,” “Dude you got me working like a Mexican…..no Xeno.” “Yo man I’m so fucking high I look Chinese……no Xeno” “I refuse to spend any money tonight……no schlomo” Gotcha!!!!!!!

 

Well that does it for another afternoon down at The Ol’ Gumption. Roll on through the weekend boys and girls, and LOOKOUT! Next week is a big one….

The Inconsistency of English Muffins

I don’t want to hate on English Muffins, just like you I grew up on them. That “Thomas” logo with the horse drawn carriage, it takes me right back to the kitchen and my Grandmother. Sadly left in the hands of the inexperienced, English Muffins have turned into a barely edible oatmeal colored discus. Let’s face facts man; you’ve given up on Britain’s favorite breakfast biscuit haven’t you?

A prime example: You order breakfast at a diner and your waitress asks if you want toast. Does “English Muffin” even cross your mind? Never. That’s the equivalent of asking for filet mignon. You have every faith that your food will be what you asked for; it just won’t be prepared correctly. And so goes the slow death of the English Muffin.

Truth is, to change your behavior you’d need a guarantee. A guarantee that what ended up in front of you was going to be full of sexy golden brown nooks and crannies. I cannot provide you that guarantee, but I can provide you with this guide to a perfect English Muffin.

 

• Fork Split: Ok so this is easy, English Muffins are not meant to be opened with a knife or bagel guillotine. They are actually perforated around the muffins' “equator”, jab your fork in and out of these pre-made holes. Soon enough one side of the English Muffin will begin to split off, and the rest is easily done by hand. Done correctly this brings out those precious nooks and crannies, done incorrectly you are looking at the side of a brick.
• Toaster Setting: I tend to prefer my English Muffins on the well-done side, because like any sexy lady "dey thick". I also like every bite to be filled with crispy crunchy goodness. Undercooking an English Muffin results in a bland doughy textured middle. Yuck! If I wanted to chew something uncooked, I would’ve gotten some cookie dough or sushi. Not every toaster knob is the same, so I will give you this baseline. If your toaster knob was numbered 0 to 10, I’ll take my English Muffin at an 8. Regular toast probably falls at a 6 for me, just to give you a line of demarcation.
• Finishing: As with anything in life, finishing an English Muffin strongly is important. You’ll know the muffin is done when you see a brown line around the crust, and a little golden color on the basin of the gem. Upon completion, please for god sakes use a gentle spreading utensil. You can't slather with utter disregard! Spread gently so as not to fuck up the structural integrity of the nooks and crannies. However, you must spread evenly to coat every precious bite with the jelly, jam, or mite of your choice. I fucking hate marmite, veggimite, or any other sort of mite. I digress.

 

Want to know just how far English Muffin’s have fallen? I am going to the store in a couple of minutes and guess what’s not on my list? Dingle Berry Jam! You can't buy that shit at the store, but Butang will be back with some in a hot minute. Did you think I was going to say English Muffins? You’re fucking crazy man. Stop all your huffin' and puffin', put down that toast and get me an English Muffin!

The 6

            You remember that old line about New York? A city so nice they named it twice? Well the 6 is so nice, Jennifer Lopez wrote an album about it. Maybe that explains why it always smells like hair spray. I often find myself riding the “Yuppy Express” as part of my YoBro! existence. While many might contend that the 1 is the lifeline of the City that Never Sleeps, anyone with half a brain in their bucket knows that the 6 is where to get your fix.

            Rush hour crowds, baby carriages, homeless people with no legs (Have you seen that guy???), random mariachi bands, acapella groups, hot women, perverse men, and millions of normal people make this one of the best people watching venues in the city. Problem is while you’re sandwiched between the Seeing Eye dog and the chick that looks like a destitute man’s Cate Blanchett, you are not taking in all the guilty pleasures that the 6 has to offer. Let old TJB help you enjoy your next 6 ride with “a couple of suggestions of how you could finesse it”.

 

• The Homeless Dude Slow Clap: This is one of the funniest things you can do with 3 or more people in New York City. You’ve settled into a good spot and all of a sudden you hear a loud voice. Your heart sinks as you hear something along the following lines: “Ladies and Gentlemen, god bless you! I would not be doing this if I didn’t have to…” This is followed by a gut-wrenching story that makes you feel like shit. What a fucking downer man! While other people are fumbling around for change, I challenge you and your posse to give this man change he can really use, an attitude adjustment! In the waning moments of the speech, start a slow clap that gets faster building towards ultimate completion. When your clap has reached his zenith shout out a number of “woo hoos” or “great fucking speech man!” or “this guys gonna make it, I know he is!” or “you don’t need a heart transplant you look healthy as an ox”. Everyone in the car will be smiling in no time, and you will have turned an awkwardly sad moment into an awkwardly happy one.
• The Kelly Slater: For those of you dudes not used to hanging ten, Kelly Slater is a surfer. There are two times I use this move, one is for practice and one is for dead serious. I practice when the subway is nearly empty. I plant my feet, bend my knees, and pretend the subway car floor is my surfboard between stops. Radical right? It’s harder to stay up than you think, and it’s actually a decent amount of thigh work. Of course this is all practice for the big event when a subway car is packed and there are no handholds. While others panic, you plant your paws, bend your knees, and ride the big one all the way up to 72^nd street. You big kahuna you!
• The Clean Sanchez: This move is used for speaking about someone on the subway while they are right in front of you. I put my hand flatly over where my mustache would be and slightly tilt it down over my mouth. I talk normal volume to my buddy sitting next to me and say whatever I want about the person across from me. For example: “Damn dude, that girl’s hair coloring makes her look like a raccoon” or “Nice fucking beard!” or  “Is that a toupee or is he just happy to see me” or “Shave your legs” or “Damn if those sagged anymore they might hit the floor”. You get the idea; you can basically say whatever you want as long as you’ve got your Clean Sanchez on. The hum of the subway will drown out what you are saying, the key is making it so your body language isn’t screaming: “there is no way I am not talking about you right now”.
• Jack the Ripper: Speaking of noxious fumes, I tend to get gassy at inopportune times. I sometimes get the urge to hold it in, but then I think “why am I ruining my sphincter so Pablo can ride the 6 in peace?” I created Jack the Ripper because the truth is while I might not give a shit, I’ll certainly give everyone a sample of the smell. The Ripper is farting, in a loud manner, in a crowded subway car. The key to this maneuver is not getting caught. As soon as you let it fly, without cracking up too bad, you need to start looking around with one of two expressions on your face: 1. “Damn what kind of animal would do something like that?” or 2. “My nostrils are stinging from that vile stench.” Making eye contact with others only enhances the pleasure. Oh and as the move’s title would suggest this is meant to be a serial occurrence. *Bill Chen says: “If I can’t hear it it didn’t happen! That’s why I am always listening to my Ipod on the subway.”

   

If you have a borderline inappropriate move you are into, feel free to send it in! I am always open to anything that will make my commute more enjoyable. The Gumption is full of bravado when it comes to these sorts of exercises. So until next time, work on rocking The Kelly Slater while you Jack the Ripper, its guaranteed to make you smile!