Fifty Shades of Awesome


There are plenty of reasons to blog, just as there are many reasons to return to blogging.

Some might say there’s even… 50 shades of reas-

I’m sorry. I came back after all this time just to ugh you, and for that I apologize.

To make it up to you, reader, I’ve decided to do something amazing. Something so amazing that only the Internet could provide it.

Fifty Shades word generator.

Through various technological breakthroughs in erotic fiction generation, we now have the dark magic to recreate enough passages to guarantee an accurate representation of actual world class erotic literature.

I bet it’s the first time you’ve associated Fifty Shades o-

f Grey with word class literature. Or anything not related to a garbage dump.

Fear no more, readers, soon you read and hear the majesty of Fifty Shades and be convinced.


So let’s begin!

He curled a giant butt nugget on my superdroopers just so he could gobble it up like a bulldog eating porridge. I awoke the next morning with my front bum still leaking. I thought it was over but his battering ram had other ideas. My wunder down under was trembling like a shitting dog. When he removed his eight inches of throbbing pink jesus from my fart valve, he was pleasantly surprised to see a butt nugget staring back as him. He knew I couldn’t wait to chow down on the hardened fudge nugget off his throbbing quim dagger. The raiding of my fudge factory was so vigorous, he soon found his man berries joining his flesh gordon deep in my other vagina.

With words like that, one must wonder why art even tries anymore.

Some asshole with a voice recorder read that passage, but even his tones conveyed the true artistic integrity of “flesh gordon.”

Batman barged in and said “WHERE ARE THE WEAPONS?” He gave in after seeing my recording session and demanded that I let him record. I can’t speak to the mysterious of the Dark Knight, but something tells me he was waiting for an opportunity like this.

That was the glory of Fifty Shades of Generator. Please come by and check out more hilarity. More will probably be up… eventually.

If you excuse me, I have to get Batman to stop laughing.


Baseball Is Suppose to Hurt.


I take this shit way too seriously.


So seriously, I’m writing a blog post about it.

Well, not so much as writing, but finding the perfect quote to summarize my feelings.

I feel a combination of dread, disappointment, anger, and even a small bit of relief.

It’s over. The journey of the 2014 Dodgers season has ended and I got to see it from its inception to its bitter conclusion.

The story of a 94-68 season ends on a groundout to second, because really, how else could it end? It’s baseball.

The greatest pitcher on the planet couldn’t prevent…baseball.

He had the curve that anyone could admire, because certainly no was going to hit it, but… you know what I mean. But it was hit. It was hit so far that if one looked close enough, the dreams and hopes of all the LA Blue shattered on impact.

You know what? Probably didn’t need to see that closely at all.

If it sounds maudlin that’s because it is.

I found that quote, by the way. I hope you enjoy my reading of it.

[Baseball] breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall all alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops. – A.Bartlett Giamatti, Take Time For Paradise: Americans And Their Games.

I Dramatically Read a Japanese Pop Song


Yup, I straight up read a Japanese pop song by Mell called “Red Fraction.” I’ve read poetry by Langston Hughes and a blog post by John Scalzi, so J-Pop was the next logical step.

It is an entirely English song sung by people who do not speak English. That does not mean it is not amazing. It also opens for one of the coolest and most profanity laden anime ever. So Black Lagoon is totally worth checking out.

I’ve always wanted to do a straight reading of this to hear what I sounded like. Now you can hear me too.

I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed reading it. There are comments below if you want to tell me about things. Just sayin’.

The Class of ENG451B Asked Me to do This.


Note: I did not create the poem. Langston Hughes did. All credit goes to him, I just read it.

The title really says it all, doesn’t it?

This is my present to all of you who asked me to read this in class, but my sweet melodic voice would have driven the remaining test takers to distraction.

But I didn’t so I recorded it for everyone to hear.

I recorded another thing in the post right below this one if you want to check it out. I may record myself reading more things in the future, so if you’re interested in that, please follow my blog or Twitter account.

I really had a fun time with you all in class and I hope you all enjoy my reading of Langston Hughes’ “The Weary Blues.”


I could do a bonus reading that you guys might find… funny, I might do it or might not, but if you want to try and sway me either way, please comment.

Okay enough of my pimping. Just enjoy the things I do.

Listen to me Read if you Dare


All credit goes to John Scalzi for this. I only read it. Just ignore the blatant verbal stumbles and sound effects in the background. Oh hell, in fact, just listen to my dulcet tones in the car wherever you need to go. If my reading voice has been called anything, it’s been described as “uplifting.”

I don’t know what it’s like being poor.

I don’t.

I was raised in a wonderful household and I have my parents to thank. The closest experience I do have is when I did actually go to a friend’s house who was poor. Or better yet, when they would come to my house and ask me if I were rich (really I’m not). I had a living room with a fucking T.V in it and game console connected, and that seemed to really change my friends’ perceptions of me.

I read the post because it didn’t apply to me necessarily, but it seemed to bring back a time when it applied to everyone else but me.

I read the post because I didn’t know what being poor really meant.

I read the post because I liked the author’s work.

I read the post because repetition is a powerful tool.

I read the post because I wanted to vicariously live through another man’s work because I’ve known someone who has been through the same thing.

I read the post because I wanted to experience a view other than my own.

I read the post because I wanted to write this post.

I read the post because despite it not happening to me, it’s easy to imagine it happening to someone else.

I read the post to confirm I have empathy.

I read the post because I wanted to believe I had empathy.

I read the post to make you feel empathy.

I read the post because I’m a college student and I want to believe my English degree means something.

I read the post because I wanted other people to read it too.