Wednesday, February 25, 2009
SD Loves Sean Connery
We don't do too many endorsements around here, mostly because we hate everyone. But this is an extreme case. SD loves us some Sean Connery. He is a a hero to all, and we just thought we'd let you know. Our favorite part of the video? What Barbara Walters says at the end. Hmm, why do you think we haven't heard anything from her Ms. Walters? Ha! Best Bond ever.
I'm Immature
Two quick notes on how immature I am, as I sit in my room with about a week left to go until I'm 21.
First off, it was Ash Wednesday today, which is awesome. I saw lots of people walking around with smudges of black stuff on their foreheads, and it meant I could get away without showering this morning, or at least washing my face. Anyway, I was walking on the sidewalk when a girl with the ashes on her head passed me, and she was eating an ice cream cone. I then thought, "Ha ha, ash cream." And I then laughed on the inside for a good 10 minutes and kept repeating the phrase.
Then just now I was playing Scrabble online. The person I was playing scored however many points for using the word "Cum." I then laughed out loud for a good 10 minutes. See, it doesn't take much for me to be amused. I'm like a child, and an asshole.
First off, it was Ash Wednesday today, which is awesome. I saw lots of people walking around with smudges of black stuff on their foreheads, and it meant I could get away without showering this morning, or at least washing my face. Anyway, I was walking on the sidewalk when a girl with the ashes on her head passed me, and she was eating an ice cream cone. I then thought, "Ha ha, ash cream." And I then laughed on the inside for a good 10 minutes and kept repeating the phrase.
Then just now I was playing Scrabble online. The person I was playing scored however many points for using the word "Cum." I then laughed out loud for a good 10 minutes. See, it doesn't take much for me to be amused. I'm like a child, and an asshole.
Friday, February 20, 2009
I'm a Stalker
So tonight I went to a meeting of a club I'm in. The meeting consists of going to watch a movie. After the meeting I left. Except I wanted to go to Rite Aid and buy a bag of pretzels. The way to Rite Aid is the opposite way that most people leave the building, plus it was like 10 at night, so the building was empty.
For those reasons, it was extremely apparent that only me and one girl were leaving the building that way. We were pretty much walking right next to one another, silent for a good 20 seconds. Then she said, "Weird movie, huh?" This blossomed into a full two-minute conversation until we exited the building. Except we were both walking the same direction. Still, we walked in silence down a street where we the only occupants.
I crossed the street a few minutes after walking outside, because I thought the Rite Aid was coming up on a side street. I was one street too early, and just as I was reaching the corner of the right street, she passed. I turned up the street, and noticed her walking into the Rite Aid. I felt a bit awkward, but wanted my pretzels, so I went in. I didn't see her at first, instead walking over to the aisle where the pretzels were.
I started looking at my options. There wasn't anyone else in the aisle. Then I considered getting something besides pretzels. Chex Mix are pretty good, and they have pretzels included, so that's awesome. Then someone walked up to me and said, "Are you following me?"
It was some homeless dude.
No, just kidding, it was her. I was a bit shocked, because I was looking at pretzels, not hiding behind the large display for Ramen noodles that were on sale watching her from afar. So I of course said, "Yes. I really like the redecorating you did recently. It looks really nice." Thinking about it, bad idea.
But she didn't scream or call the cops. She just looked slightly confused. "I'm kidding," I said. "I just wanted some pretzels." I panicked and forgot about the Chex Mix.
Anyway, she said something about how it was just odd we both went from the same classroom to the same Rite Aid, because it's like a five minute walk between the two. I said I agreed, although I didn't find it odd at all. I mean, I was following her.
Then she said, "Alright, have a nice night. I guess I'll see you next week."
"If not sooner," I said. She walked away. I stayed behind a few minutes as to not seem like I was following her to the register.
For those reasons, it was extremely apparent that only me and one girl were leaving the building that way. We were pretty much walking right next to one another, silent for a good 20 seconds. Then she said, "Weird movie, huh?" This blossomed into a full two-minute conversation until we exited the building. Except we were both walking the same direction. Still, we walked in silence down a street where we the only occupants.
I crossed the street a few minutes after walking outside, because I thought the Rite Aid was coming up on a side street. I was one street too early, and just as I was reaching the corner of the right street, she passed. I turned up the street, and noticed her walking into the Rite Aid. I felt a bit awkward, but wanted my pretzels, so I went in. I didn't see her at first, instead walking over to the aisle where the pretzels were.
I started looking at my options. There wasn't anyone else in the aisle. Then I considered getting something besides pretzels. Chex Mix are pretty good, and they have pretzels included, so that's awesome. Then someone walked up to me and said, "Are you following me?"
It was some homeless dude.
No, just kidding, it was her. I was a bit shocked, because I was looking at pretzels, not hiding behind the large display for Ramen noodles that were on sale watching her from afar. So I of course said, "Yes. I really like the redecorating you did recently. It looks really nice." Thinking about it, bad idea.
But she didn't scream or call the cops. She just looked slightly confused. "I'm kidding," I said. "I just wanted some pretzels." I panicked and forgot about the Chex Mix.
Anyway, she said something about how it was just odd we both went from the same classroom to the same Rite Aid, because it's like a five minute walk between the two. I said I agreed, although I didn't find it odd at all. I mean, I was following her.
Then she said, "Alright, have a nice night. I guess I'll see you next week."
"If not sooner," I said. She walked away. I stayed behind a few minutes as to not seem like I was following her to the register.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
My Room is Totally Haunted
It's kind of frightening, but I'm positive my room is haunted. First, I believe I mentioned this at least once before, but earlier in the year we used to hear what we thought was air coming out of the vent in our room. Except it didn't sound like air, it sounded like some dude screaming his head off, like he was being tortured. That happened a few times, but not in a while.
Then, my shower started shaking. At first I thought it was someone who lives in one of the rooms next me dragging something heavy, like a bed, across the floor, causing my shower to shake. But it happens all the time now, and I can't imagine people are moving stuff around that often. So now I've got a screaming room and a shaking shower.
My mom and brother came to visit last weekend, and my mom is crazy, so she cleaned my shower, which was awesome because I didn't have to. I thought she used some weird kind of cleaning supply to leaves red marks in the shower every day, because that's what was happening. They were easy to clean, but odd.
Then yesterday I returned from class and noticed that the plastic cap/cover thing in my shower that covers the light fell off. I thought I could pop it back into ceiling, but the plastic thing that it was connected to was conveniently cracked. How that happened, I don't know. I never touched it. So I'm at my desk a little later and I hear something crash in the bathroom, and now the entire thing has fallen into my shower, and it's basically a light bulb incredibly exposed right above my shower, and I can see a bunch of wires up there too. I also noticed some more red blotches, and figured they had been coming from up there.
I don't know what's going on, but my room screams, my shower shakes and the shower's light bulb bleeds and breaks itself. So this is a bit unsettling. My plan is to head over to the library tonight and use the microfilm to look up any information about murders or odd deaths in this room. The building probably isn't even seven years old, so I don't expect to be there long. Of course, I'll go right before they close, so just as I find something someone will tap me on the shoulder, startling me, but turns out it's just the librarian. She'll be important later in the story, somehow.
Oh, my roommate also transferred after the first semester, and made no mention of it to me. Transferring has to be a multi-week process, I would think, so it wasn't spur of the moment. I never heard him talking to anyone about it, in the room or over the phone. I just got back and he's gone. I got one text from him saying he transferred and that's it. The text also didn't come from the number I had in my phone from him. I still don't have a new roommate, which is just as odd, since I'm in one of the newer buildings, I figured I wouldn't be here alone for long. Maybe the rest of the student body knows how fucking haunted this room is, and don't want to live here.
I can't say for sure what is going to happen. I'm wearing my Ghostbusters shirt today to show them I'm not scared. It's too bad I don't have a piano. They hate that. But who really knows how this will play out. The way I see it, I'm either in the beginning of a horror movie, or towards the middle. Hopefully the middle, because if I'm at the beginning, I'm the guy that's going to die, leaving someone else to learn from my mistakes. But I'm at the middle, a showdown is coming up that I will somehow survive. I guess we'll see. Or you guys will. I might die, unfortunately.
Then, my shower started shaking. At first I thought it was someone who lives in one of the rooms next me dragging something heavy, like a bed, across the floor, causing my shower to shake. But it happens all the time now, and I can't imagine people are moving stuff around that often. So now I've got a screaming room and a shaking shower.
My mom and brother came to visit last weekend, and my mom is crazy, so she cleaned my shower, which was awesome because I didn't have to. I thought she used some weird kind of cleaning supply to leaves red marks in the shower every day, because that's what was happening. They were easy to clean, but odd.
Then yesterday I returned from class and noticed that the plastic cap/cover thing in my shower that covers the light fell off. I thought I could pop it back into ceiling, but the plastic thing that it was connected to was conveniently cracked. How that happened, I don't know. I never touched it. So I'm at my desk a little later and I hear something crash in the bathroom, and now the entire thing has fallen into my shower, and it's basically a light bulb incredibly exposed right above my shower, and I can see a bunch of wires up there too. I also noticed some more red blotches, and figured they had been coming from up there.
I don't know what's going on, but my room screams, my shower shakes and the shower's light bulb bleeds and breaks itself. So this is a bit unsettling. My plan is to head over to the library tonight and use the microfilm to look up any information about murders or odd deaths in this room. The building probably isn't even seven years old, so I don't expect to be there long. Of course, I'll go right before they close, so just as I find something someone will tap me on the shoulder, startling me, but turns out it's just the librarian. She'll be important later in the story, somehow.
Oh, my roommate also transferred after the first semester, and made no mention of it to me. Transferring has to be a multi-week process, I would think, so it wasn't spur of the moment. I never heard him talking to anyone about it, in the room or over the phone. I just got back and he's gone. I got one text from him saying he transferred and that's it. The text also didn't come from the number I had in my phone from him. I still don't have a new roommate, which is just as odd, since I'm in one of the newer buildings, I figured I wouldn't be here alone for long. Maybe the rest of the student body knows how fucking haunted this room is, and don't want to live here.
I can't say for sure what is going to happen. I'm wearing my Ghostbusters shirt today to show them I'm not scared. It's too bad I don't have a piano. They hate that. But who really knows how this will play out. The way I see it, I'm either in the beginning of a horror movie, or towards the middle. Hopefully the middle, because if I'm at the beginning, I'm the guy that's going to die, leaving someone else to learn from my mistakes. But I'm at the middle, a showdown is coming up that I will somehow survive. I guess we'll see. Or you guys will. I might die, unfortunately.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Fuck you Christian Bale
Today on the bus two girls were sitting right in front of me. They were talking about their friend, who is 25 and still in school, and their 20-year-old friend who is dating her. Well, one of the girls knew their ages, and the other one didn't. When she told her, the girl out of the know jerks her upper body away from the girl and yells, "Holy age difference!" I started laughing, because it made her seem like Robin. They did not seem to appreciate my eavesdropping, and gave me dirty looks before moving to a whisper.
Anyway, for no other reason than now I'm thinking about how awesome the Batman TV series was, here's this.
Anyway, for no other reason than now I'm thinking about how awesome the Batman TV series was, here's this.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Everything's Better Wtih Zombies
Pretty self-explanatory, right?
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1594743347?ie=UTF8&tag=livejournal06-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1594743347
Now, I never read the original, but I'm pretty sure they made a movie of it with the Pirates of the Caribbean girl, which I didn't see. I probably won't read this, but if literature is taking a turn where people just redo classic novels by adding zombies in, color me excited. Oh, and use pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1594743347?ie=UTF8&tag=livejournal06-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1594743347
Now, I never read the original, but I'm pretty sure they made a movie of it with the Pirates of the Caribbean girl, which I didn't see. I probably won't read this, but if literature is taking a turn where people just redo classic novels by adding zombies in, color me excited. Oh, and use pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.
Friday, February 6, 2009
I'm a faggot
Today I was standing on the corner of the sidewalk waiting for the light to change so I could cross an intersection. I see a raggedy, Mick Foley-looking homeless walking towards me, but he's walking in the street, against traffic.
He's wearing a navy blue jacket, and his arms aren't in the sleeves, and it's zipped up completely. Well, I assume he had arms. It looked like there were arms in his jacket. He gets up to me, turns and faces me. There isn't anyone else near me.
He tilts his head, and I try not to make eye contact, because he looks homeless and therefore I'm better than him. I don't make eye contact with anyone I'm better than. The light still hasn't turned, and he's just looking at me, head still tilted. He's about eight feet in front of me, at most.
Then he says something in a really soft-spoken voice. It was either "Hi" or "Huh?" I don't answer, the light changes and I walk across the street. As I get up to him he looks at me and says "Faggot," but in that really soft-spoken voice. I didn't know what to do, so I beat him. I took off my belt and went to town on him. People rushed over to see what was going on, but once they saw me wailing on Dude Love they were like "Keep it going man!" One guy tossed me a steel chair, so I tossed it to the homeless guy, who idiotically caught it up against his face, perfect positioning for my drop kick. Then I lifted up a manhole cover and took out a baseball bat wrapped with barbwire. I hit him a few times with it, drawing blood. It would've felt great, except the whole time the Cactus Jack was smiling. It was odd.
Then I saw some guy in a name tag who was named Devon, so I yelled "Devon, get the table!" He ran into the diner and dragged out a table that was clearly in use. I took a bite of a burger, then I swiped everything off the table and placed the homeless guy on. Ride Aid was luckily on fire, so a firetruck was there with it's ladder fully extended. I climbed up the ladder, onto the Rite Aid and gave him the Swanton Bomb. Unfortunately the table was from a dinner, and had only one huge leg in the center of the table, thus is didn't break. That part hurt.
A guy ran up from behind me and tapped on my shoulder. "Dude," he yelled frantically, "what the hell? What's wrong with you? Have you just been watching wrestling videos on Youtube all day?" I told him to fuck off. He punched me. He punched me again. And a third time. I bent over, and things started getting a little blurry. He punched me a fourth time, but I shook it off. He punched me again and I didn't even flinch. Another time I shook my head back and forth and pointed at him. He took a few steps back, and the crowd watching us went crazy. I threw him to my right, and a few people caught him and threw him back at me. I lifted up my right leg and connected. Hit him right in the nose. Just as I was telling the audience I couldn't hear them by putting my hand up to my ear, the homeless guy hit my kidneys with a sledgehammer.
I fell to the ground. He ran into a stationary store and came back out with a pack of thumbtacks. He poured them on the ground and lifted me up. He then hoisted me up and turned my upside, prepping for a body slam, but I shimmied up and over him and gave him a reverse DDT. That's right, face first into the tacks. He screamed and blood started squirting out of him. Not pouring, but squirting. The people up front loved it and started chanting "Gall-a-gher! Gall-a-gher! Gall-a-gher!"
I took it as an insult. I charged the crowd, armed with nothing but a sledgehammer and the head of a mannequin. I started wailing on people. I dropped the head for a second, and took a two-handed swing of the sledgehammer, knocking out about five people at once. Some people charged from behind, so I turned around and did the same. I kept spinning and swinging, and for reason, people kept charging at me. Soon enough, I was the only one standing, surrounded by a sea of bodies and blood. It smelled really bad.
I started to walk away, then from behind me I heard someone say in a what can best be described as their inside voice, "Faggot." I turned and there was the homeless guy, still looking at me with his head tilted. He held his stare, I started one and we locked eyes, motionless. It felt like we were there hours, when it was probably just closer to 30 minutes.
Then we walked towards one another. He once again called me a "faggot." I told him it was an inappropriate thing to call someone, and quite frankly, pretty rude. He said it again. I took a step back, bringing my right arm with me and then shot it forward.
Right before contact, I stuck out my right index finger, tapping him on the chest. I covered him up, a guy working at Foot Locker ran outside and counted.
1...
2...
3!
He lifted my arm. Just as I was about to grab the mic and talk shit to the champion, as I was now the number-one contender for his belt, a cop came. He arrested me for holding up traffic. I opted to use one one phone call on a blog post instead, because cops are really tech-friendly. I'm hoping they let me out in time to hit up Raw on Monday.
He's wearing a navy blue jacket, and his arms aren't in the sleeves, and it's zipped up completely. Well, I assume he had arms. It looked like there were arms in his jacket. He gets up to me, turns and faces me. There isn't anyone else near me.
He tilts his head, and I try not to make eye contact, because he looks homeless and therefore I'm better than him. I don't make eye contact with anyone I'm better than. The light still hasn't turned, and he's just looking at me, head still tilted. He's about eight feet in front of me, at most.
Then he says something in a really soft-spoken voice. It was either "Hi" or "Huh?" I don't answer, the light changes and I walk across the street. As I get up to him he looks at me and says "Faggot," but in that really soft-spoken voice. I didn't know what to do, so I beat him. I took off my belt and went to town on him. People rushed over to see what was going on, but once they saw me wailing on Dude Love they were like "Keep it going man!" One guy tossed me a steel chair, so I tossed it to the homeless guy, who idiotically caught it up against his face, perfect positioning for my drop kick. Then I lifted up a manhole cover and took out a baseball bat wrapped with barbwire. I hit him a few times with it, drawing blood. It would've felt great, except the whole time the Cactus Jack was smiling. It was odd.
Then I saw some guy in a name tag who was named Devon, so I yelled "Devon, get the table!" He ran into the diner and dragged out a table that was clearly in use. I took a bite of a burger, then I swiped everything off the table and placed the homeless guy on. Ride Aid was luckily on fire, so a firetruck was there with it's ladder fully extended. I climbed up the ladder, onto the Rite Aid and gave him the Swanton Bomb. Unfortunately the table was from a dinner, and had only one huge leg in the center of the table, thus is didn't break. That part hurt.
A guy ran up from behind me and tapped on my shoulder. "Dude," he yelled frantically, "what the hell? What's wrong with you? Have you just been watching wrestling videos on Youtube all day?" I told him to fuck off. He punched me. He punched me again. And a third time. I bent over, and things started getting a little blurry. He punched me a fourth time, but I shook it off. He punched me again and I didn't even flinch. Another time I shook my head back and forth and pointed at him. He took a few steps back, and the crowd watching us went crazy. I threw him to my right, and a few people caught him and threw him back at me. I lifted up my right leg and connected. Hit him right in the nose. Just as I was telling the audience I couldn't hear them by putting my hand up to my ear, the homeless guy hit my kidneys with a sledgehammer.
I fell to the ground. He ran into a stationary store and came back out with a pack of thumbtacks. He poured them on the ground and lifted me up. He then hoisted me up and turned my upside, prepping for a body slam, but I shimmied up and over him and gave him a reverse DDT. That's right, face first into the tacks. He screamed and blood started squirting out of him. Not pouring, but squirting. The people up front loved it and started chanting "Gall-a-gher! Gall-a-gher! Gall-a-gher!"
I took it as an insult. I charged the crowd, armed with nothing but a sledgehammer and the head of a mannequin. I started wailing on people. I dropped the head for a second, and took a two-handed swing of the sledgehammer, knocking out about five people at once. Some people charged from behind, so I turned around and did the same. I kept spinning and swinging, and for reason, people kept charging at me. Soon enough, I was the only one standing, surrounded by a sea of bodies and blood. It smelled really bad.
I started to walk away, then from behind me I heard someone say in a what can best be described as their inside voice, "Faggot." I turned and there was the homeless guy, still looking at me with his head tilted. He held his stare, I started one and we locked eyes, motionless. It felt like we were there hours, when it was probably just closer to 30 minutes.
Then we walked towards one another. He once again called me a "faggot." I told him it was an inappropriate thing to call someone, and quite frankly, pretty rude. He said it again. I took a step back, bringing my right arm with me and then shot it forward.
Right before contact, I stuck out my right index finger, tapping him on the chest. I covered him up, a guy working at Foot Locker ran outside and counted.
1...
2...
3!
He lifted my arm. Just as I was about to grab the mic and talk shit to the champion, as I was now the number-one contender for his belt, a cop came. He arrested me for holding up traffic. I opted to use one one phone call on a blog post instead, because cops are really tech-friendly. I'm hoping they let me out in time to hit up Raw on Monday.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Rowdy Roddy Piper Would Be Proud
Holy shit, I wish I was this awesome. New rule New Yorkers, don't fuck with terrorists.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Youtube recommended video
You ever notice when you go to Youtube's home page they have those recommended for you videos, I guess based on what you've watched in the past, maybe? Well, this is what Youtube thinks I'd like.
In Youtube's defense, at least it's the original version, before they commercialized the shit out of it and sold out.
This was also suggested for me. I don't know. This seems to be a lot closer to what I think of when I think Adaham Lincoln.
In Youtube's defense, at least it's the original version, before they commercialized the shit out of it and sold out.
This was also suggested for me. I don't know. This seems to be a lot closer to what I think of when I think Adaham Lincoln.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
I Don't Know
So the Steelers won the Super Bowl. Cool. Twas a very entertaining game.
But I have absolutely no idea why people celebrate by burning couches when something good happens to Pittsburgh sports teams. It's so so odd to me. And I fucking love it. I witnessed my first couch burning in person tonight, and it was great. From now on, I'm going to root for Pittsburgh teams to win everything just to send a giant "fuck you" to Ikea.
People With Whom I Share a Birthday
I was bored today, and I decided to see other people who had the same birthday as me, December 30th.
Here are the highlights:
We're off to a good start with the first listing on wikipedia, with the Roman emporer, Titus. Great start to the club, and we're proud to have him.
Then it gets boring for a while and I kind of skim it, until we get to Hideki Tojo, Prime Minister of Japan duringWorld War II. Some birthday clubs might not be happy to have such a notorious man in their midst (My grandpa and Adolf Hitler share a birthday, and those are some tense general body meetings, let me tell you. Because my grandpa hates secret Jews.) We in the December 30th Birthday Society welcome celebrity, and are proud to include a man sentenced to death for war crimes -- that's crimes against humanity, let me remind you. Beat that, December 31st Birthday Society for Faggots! The closest you come to matching us there is Joey McIntyre, or maybe Bob Bryar, drummer for band-made-up-entirely-of-dickheads My Chemical Romance.
Next, we've got a Mexican President, but then, who doesn't?
Now we start getting into the musical genius category, with Bo Diddley, may he rest in peace. I wanted to give you a little reminder about his awesometude by linking you to that YouTube clip of him collaborating with Donny Osmond, but it's lost from the internet, so instead, I'll tell you a story: this summer I interned with Radio Hall of Famer Cousin Brucie, and on the first day, he was doing a piece on Bo Diddley, since he'd just died, and said, "You know, Bo Diddley, like you diddle yourself." Do I ever!
Next, a guy who's last name is Bologna! Joe Baloney! Yes! High fives all around!
Now, I want everyone to brace themselves for this next one. I told you we were just starting to get into the musical genius category, and here's where we really knock it out. We've got, not one, but two Monkees. That's right, Michael Nesmith AND the masterful tamborinist Davy Fucking Jones! What now motherfuckers! Suck my dick.
More visionaries! Worlds First Professional Pooper and Jackass Co-Star, Dave England! In the words of Stan Lee, "Nuff said!"
Finally, who better to cap the list than a Spanish porn star named NACHO VIDAL. That's the best thing I ever heard.
Soup(er) Bowl
So, there's this restaurant in town called "Soup(er) Bowl." They serve soup, I believe, but I've never gone in, because why would anyone want to go to a place that just serves soup, if they can't get berated by a nazi in the process? Anyway, I was just thinking, doesn't that sound like just the kind of place that is going to get NO business during the super bowl? Who can think of anyone that would be like "Yo guys, here's the plan for this Sunday: we get real fucked up and then go get some soup!" I mean, in the time leading up to the Super Bowl, sure, some retards are probably like "Oh man, I'm so excited for this faggy game, lets go to that place that's called Soup(er) Bowl because I love the Super Bowl so goddamn much! Agghgahhg!" But I just don't think it's the kind of thing with which a soup place really wants to be associated.
Quick Note
Hey peoples making the comedy, jokes about Rod Blagojevich's hair stopped being funny weeks ago. You can stop now, seriously. They suck. All of them.
And another quick note. I'm working on something for my school's paper, and I can not truthfully say I have googled the phrase "Roger Clemens' testicles." It's true. I didn't google images it, as I'm far too much of a pussy to even dare see what comes up. That's a pun.
And another quick note. I'm working on something for my school's paper, and I can not truthfully say I have googled the phrase "Roger Clemens' testicles." It's true. I didn't google images it, as I'm far too much of a pussy to even dare see what comes up. That's a pun.
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