Life
by J. Camm on February 9, 2012

Twitter Account You Should Follow

Karl Welzein — @DadBoner

Kicking this column off with one of my favorite accounts to follow. Captain Karl, or K-Money as he calls himself, is a middle-aged, almost-divorcee who tells his life story through Tweets. He loves America, Detroit, bold flavors, cold ones, carnal passions, drinkin’ top-shelf margs, and shortening words, like “celebraish” and, well, “Margs.” Follow Karl’s trek (albeit probably 100% fictitious) through life with his friends Dave and Homeless Peanut, his soon-to-be ex-wife Ann, and other ancillary characters. Below is a taste of what he spews on a daily basis. It's far and away the perfect account to read when you're struggling one out on the shit catcher.

Photos of the Week

Bromances Last Forever (shoulder cartilage, however, may not)

“And den afta zat I was in da 'Terminator Part 2.' HAHAHA” 

The Werewolf Gene Exists and These Chicks Have It

In case any of you were wondering what exactly the Gieco Cavemen jerk-off to…

Record Setting Game of Dodgeball – 4,979 Players

Cotton McKnight: “I'm being told that Average Joe's does not have enough players and will be forfeiting the championship match.”

Pepper Brooks: “It's a bold strategy, Cotton. Let's see if it pays off for 'em.”

Sniper at the Super Bowl

The ability to sit there and NOT pull that sweet trigger is far more impressive than the ability to pull it.

Confetti Angel Courtesy of Chris Snee's Son

Little brat stole this idea from Eli.

Social Media Explained

Educational Video of the Week

Learn how to say the “Inches” speech from “Any Given Sunday” in a broken Chinese accent.

Story That's Not About Sex of the Week

We got this story and it didn't quite fit in to the Hook-Up Heroes category so we're tossing it in here. It honestly sounds like “Can't Hardly Wait” on steroids and with gun violence. Enjoy.

It was New Year's Eve, a couple buddies and I were ready for the night. We had everything planned out and expected the night to go great. Had a party planned out to go to and a couple back-up parties in case this one was lame. We get to the house around 9:30 cuz we know the guy who lived there and decided to help out a little getting things ready. As time progressed not too many people were showing up so we got worried.

At this point the owner of the house said, “F*ck it, start inviting people.” So I do as any person would do in this situation and mass texted everyone in my damn phone. It hits 10:30 and the place is packed, party is bumping, and everyone is having a great time.

But when it got to midnight things quickly went downhill. The first thing that goes wrong is the owner of the house's friend was blacked out and tried to pick a fight with someone. The owner and I had to try and calm him down, we ended up knocking him the f*ck out with a punch and had to drag him to his car. We couldn't find his keys so we assumed they were inside.

Then two people in the backyard got in a big fight over some girl and Drunk Guy A punched Drunk Guy B into a tall-ass fence. The fence literally collapsed onto him like it was being held together with twine.

But no, things get worse. Then someone knocked into and knocked over a 100-year-old grandfather clock. Thing exploded on impact. Unbeknownst to the rest of us, someone else stumbled into the owner's bedroom and found out he is a gun collector, and not just an average gun collector; he had very illegal weapons just lying around in his room. Then, someone drunkenly decided to put two bottles of liquor (glass bottles) into the dryer to hide them. I guess someone accidentally turned it on. Next thing I know there is glass everywhere in the laundry room and people are bleeding.

But I’m not done. The chaos is not done.

At this point I am very very intoxicated and stumbling around the house. I noticed that everyone's attention begins to center around one specific bathroom. So I make my way over there as well to see what is going on. All of a sudden someone comes pushing their way through the crowd yelling “MOVE!” He gets into the bathroom and I see someone laying on the ground face up not moving. All I could think was “oh shit someone’s dead.” The guy who pushed his way through the crowd punches the lifeless man in the chest a couple times before the man on the ground gasps for breath almost coming back to life. I found out later that the guy dying has Crohn's Disease and it is very detrimental to drink if you had it, so apparently the guy stopped breathing and had his life saved.

Then things take a hard right turn for the worst. I thought this night couldn't get any worse. I was wrong. The house owner starts screaming telling everyone to shut the f*ck up. I could see him at this point but I can definitely hear him. He begins to talk and say, ”There are four cops cars, a paramedic, and a fire truck literally a block down the street from this house. I don't know if you know the cops around here but they don't f*ck around, and neither do I!”

The owner finally comes into my sights and I realize he is holding a f*cking rifle in his hand. He continues, “I've been nice enough to open this house to you guys for New Years and I've been disrespected. If anyone else wants to disrespect me I will take you out to the front yard AND RAPE YOU.”

Again, I cannot make this up. He threatened to rape us. So our buddy, who was at another party, swung by and picked us up from this hell hole of a house. As we dipped out the back door all we hear is “WHO THE F*CK STOLE THAT JEWELRY.”

So it's around 3 in the morning and we have nowhere to really go. One of the guys that’s in our caravan decides to say “let's go to my place.” We think this is a good idea only it turns out it wasn't his place anymore. It was his old foreclosed house.

When we got there I didn't f*cking care anymore. I just wanted to get some and go to bed. We get into the house and went into the living room to sleep. Then my good friend started puking, of course there is no plumbing so it was useless to puke in the toilet. And we had nothing to clean up all the puke off the ground so I had to clean it all up with a cook book. We had battery lights and then all of a sudden a loud knock was heard. It was the neighbor she saw the lights and said she called the police.

So we dipped the hell out. I got into someone's car and went to some random person's house. The next morning was probably the worst wake-up of my life: Shirt torn up, shoes covered in mud, bleeding from my hands and face, my pants were missing and my dignity was lost in the night. Aside from all the chaos, I was still able to get some, that's all that matters.

At what point during all of that did he manage to “get some?”

Poll Question of the (you guessed it) Week 

What are your expectation on this Valentine's Day?