Ramblings From an Apathetic Adult Baby

From Justin Gawel: Eccentric Dirtbag

Monthly Archives: March 2012

The Week I Guest Authored the Earl of Etiquette’s Advice Column

Greetings and salutations, followers of the Earl of Etiquette!  Sadly, Earl is out sick this week and has asked me, his good friend, the self-proclaimed Ayatollah of Apathy, the Lethargic Lord himself, Justin Gawel, to fill in and answer your questions regarding manners and social graces.  So, let’s blast off into these letters of yours, because nothing stops the mail, and thus, nothing will keep me from your questions short of a Die Hard marathon on TNT.

 

 

Dear Earl of Etiquette,

I love playing with other people’s dogs, but when they leave I am secretly ecstatic because I don’t want a dog and have never wanted one for more than an hour or so in my life.

However, my best friend of ten years has asked me if I would dog-sit for their family’s pet while they go on a cruise next week.  While they’re having fun with their boozing, tanning, and recovering from food comas, I’ll be knee-deep in Scooby-Doo-Doo from their beloved brute! Honestly, this dog is ten-years-old (in people years) and still begs from the table.  If I had a kid that was still doing something like that when they were ten, well, that kid would either be going to a specialist first thing Monday morning or going to one of those farms upstate for slow kids that I’ve been reading about.  Dog sitting is the last thing I want to do, but my friend seemed so desperate to find someone and backed me into a corner on this issue.  How can I wriggle out of this, or at least make sure this never happens again?

 

Sincerely,

Disgusted with Dog-Sitting

 

 

Dear Disgusted with Dog-Sitting,

Kill the dog.  No, just kidding (or maybe I’m not). Murdering it would get you out of a week of dog sitting though.  Plus, if you’re very upfront and honest with your friend then you can just calmly explain to them that Little Bandit’s death was definitely not an accident.  Go on to tell them that you personally ground up a few Ambien that you put it in the Little Bandit’s food before you methodically waited until he fell asleep so that you could move him under your wife’s car ten minutes before she was leaving for work. Boom, after that you can pretty much guarantee that they’ll never ask you to watch their dog again!  (Namely, because I can’t imagine anyone ever asking their friend to supervise their dead dog)  You can be sure they’ll remember this if they get a new dog though, and even better, they probably won’t even trust you with simple favors or even want to talk to you.  Talk about freeing up your time and organizing your life for once!

If you don’t have the stomach for dog-murder, or are all dog-murdered out from a recent string of them, then just let the dog stay up late, not bathe, and eat all the junk food it wants.  That way when it goes home, it won’t follow the rules.  Little Bandit will start talking back and being a sassy little devil*. When they get back from their cruise, they’ll be so busy disciplining their dog that they’ll never have time to take vacations again. And, you’ll never have to dog sit again!

Whichever strategy you employ, just remember that if you do a job badly enough you will never get asked to do it again.

 

Lazily,

Justin Gawel

Ayatollah of Apathy

 

*Yes, I know what you’re thinking and yes, this method also works for getting out of watching anyone’s annoying, sticky children.

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Everyone is Awesome!

Yes, this is the nice one.  This is the nice blog post you’d show your friends if you started dating me to say, “Look, everyone, he’s not as revolting and apathetic as he describes on his blog.  In fact, he’s sometimes nice and even showers and wipes occasionally!”

No, I will not enlighten you with my shower or pooing habits today because I have yet to discover how to exponentially express the phrase “barf-inducingly grainy”.  No, today will be about thanking all of the people who have supported this adult-baby well into the third trimester of this blog.

All of you out there that keep reading my ramblings, I thank you.  To all of you out there who have re-posted things I have written or have forwarded them to people, thank you very much.  To all the people who have subscribed to me and let me clutter their inbox with my dick jokes and fart nuggets, you are awesome and I thank you.

I apologize that I don’t respond enough to comments and things as much as I should.  Thank you all for them, I truly love reading what you guys have to say and

I’d also like to thank a few people who have nominated me for the Versatile Blogger Awards:

And of course to Articles of Absurdity and Sandylikeabeach : two very regularly funny and original bloggers that nominated me for the Glitter E. Yaynus Award and the Aurora Morealist awards respectively.  Thank you guys so much!

An adult-sized thanking is in order for Soylent Green for writing about one of my posts and for providing a tasty stream of pornography and wit that is as close to one-stop-shopping on the Internet as you can possibly be.

Thank you all for reading, hopefully for many more ramblings of the adult-baby variety.  You are all welcome to come over to my dirt-hole apartment for all the cough syrup and malt-liquor we can stomach.

Love,

Justin

No Fight Club For Old Men

Jesus Christ, there is nothing I like more than coming home from a long day of work to pop on the TV with my kids just in time to watch two geriatric pre-corpses knock the poo out of one another.  Wait, that’s right, there is no such thing as Geriatric Fight Club yet, and furthermore I still don’t have a job, TV, or family!

 

Think about it (no, not my lack of functioning like a real person or my very real bed sores), what about a Geriatric Fight Club?  Two old fucks get in the ring; the winner gets to collect Social Security while the loser has to work at Denny’s to pay off their medical bills and gambling debt until they die!  TNT doesn’t have dick on this drama.   America needs to get on this system and stop paying Social Security to all those seniors that only fought in a war.  No, not anymore, now in this country to get free money you need to fight in Geriatric Fight Club.

 

All the money from the commercials and can go to funding the winners Social Security money, and, since fights are typically rough on the elderly, they might not even live long enough after the fight to collect it!  Win-fucking-win, America.  Not only do we get to solve our Social Security problem, but also we get to make it to fiscal responsibility through violence!  I’m not saying these wrinkles masses of flesh are world-class athletes, but hey, if they land a punch there going to be a lot more than blood coming out of all sorts of ends.

 

The twists and turns of the average fight will be crazy as well.  One Florida-fossil might grab the other guy’s inhaler, but then he steals it back!  It’s a good ol’ fashioned inhaler stealin’ match until Abe “Where Are The ‘Whites Only’ Bathrooms” O’Malley gets his opponent, Don “I Should Have Died Last Century” McMurphy in a bear hug as he squeezes him until he hears McMurphy’s ribs and vertebrates popping out of place.  However, this overexertion of effort into his backbreaking battle-snuggle causes O’Malley to throw up one of his kidneys!   He swallows back down said kidney with the power of a very old and very clogged vacuum, but with his adversary now strung out on the floor and immobile, victory is now all but a certain for this racist.

 

However, unexpectedly, just as, the fair-weather-crowd-favorite, Abe “The Kidney-Barfer” O’Malley bends down to suffocate Don “Fidgety Pancake” McMurphy with his neckflap, The Kidney-Barfer suddenly suffers a brain aneurysm and strokes out and dies!  Ooo, that’s going to hurt tomorrow . . . well, not for him, more so for his grieving family, because their loved one is dead and all he left them in the form of “life insurance” was only a shoebox with eight bus tokens and a sandwich in it.   That leaves the, now paraplegic, competitor as the winner, despite his inability to stand.   At least for the family of this loser, the winner won’t be able to dance on their dead relative’s grave!

 

Yes, I realize the heart-stopping (literally!) entertainment I just described.  Fortunately for you, America, the first rule of Geriatric Fight Club is that Geriatric Fight Club is always televised.  The Disney Channel and Cat Fancy Network are currently in a bidding war for the exclusive TV rights that will take effect once the government gives the go-ahead.

 

Help the government make the right choice and look for our petition online soon at TylerDurdenWillFightGrandpa.com.

 

 

 

 

So I Created a Match.com Profile [2/2]

Now fasten your seat belts and set your phazers to fun because we’re on the homestretch.  That’s right, it’s the open-ended response section time!  My answers are as follows:

 

Dating Headline [Use 140 characters or less]

An apathetic, alcoholic adult baby with low standards that’s out there looking for Ms. Right (women with other last names considered too).

 

For Fun [Use 250 characters or less]

For fun I enjoy TV, surfing the Internet, masturbating, and eating chicken nuggets, (usually happens in roughly that order).  Also altering my states of consciousness is a sure-fire crowd pleaser in these rough and tumble times.

 

Favorite Hot Spots [Use 250 characters of less]

People put their favorite vacation spots or bars here, but I’ve gotta say my favorite ‘hot spots’ would be my couch and bed.  Both are suitable for eating and sleeping on.  Outside of my house I don’t really go anywhere besides 7/11 and the titty bar.

 

Favorite Things [Use 250 character or less]

Favorite things would be (in order) video games, alcohol, Mark Wahlberg, cake farts, the Internet, chicken wings, America, buffalo wings, women, Chocolate Rain, and then I don’t really care about anything else in existence.

 

What was the last thing you read? [Use 250 characters or less]

Are you kidding me, is this a joke?  Literally the last thing I read was this question and instructions on Match.com before doing this.  If you mean other than that though it would be anyone’s guess between an Archie Comic and a book called Mondo Freaks.

 

Myself and Who I’m Looking For In a Woman [Use 4,000 characters or less]

 

Well, as you can figure out, the easier, cheaper, and more naked something is the more I like it generally.  If your life credo reflects something like that and if you’re down to chill and sometimes do some shit, that’s cool, I’d like that.

I guess it should go without stating, but just to be clear I am like most other guys.  So when you meet me do not get excited to tell your girlfriends that the guy you just met “Isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met.”  And like most dudes I am turned on by porn and food while blisters, eczema, and hair lips completely turn me off.  I also don’t like complaints; really my only complaint about my ex-girlfriend was that she complained too much.  If someone has told you that you’re a complainer, let’s face it, they’re probably right.  Lets agree not to waste each other’s time on you complaining about my lifestyle and me complaining about your barrage of complaints.

As an adult baby, I really don’t do very much to take care of myself, hence my proclivity for chicken wing delivery.  I like waking up at noon and put all of my effort into working as little as possible.  Do I have a five-year plan?  No.  Do I have a fifteen-minute plan?  Sometimes, like if a show about monster trucks is coming on or the liquor store opens or closes fifteen minutes from now. I am not very intelligent, unless you count fantasy football stats and injury reports.  I’m sorry if this lack of ever trying to better myself is a deal breaker, but hey, this stagnant pond is a cool fucking dude.  Come on in, the water’s great, plus there’s never a threat of tsunami.

I am a stagnant pond, which also means I am deceptively shallow.  On first impressions I can seem deep and mysteriously murky, but after you take a step in and immerse yourself it is evident how shallow I am.  Basically, if individuals beside yourself have referred you to as “gorgeous” or “beautiful”, I’m sold.  On the other hand, if people constantly bring up how much ‘inner beauty’ you have it is likely that there isn’t very much outer beauty to be discussed with you.  In this instance, this shallow parasite on society doesn’t want to hear from you.

Now if you’re looking for companionship and your specs check out, give this apathetic, alcoholic, adult baby a chance.

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