White guilt

Since a young age, I have experienced frequent episodes of extremely explosive, violent white guilt. Some days, it is so bad that I can do nothing but stare at the wall and sob. I shut down emotionally and am just a very difficult person to be around.

I've been dealing with this white guilt for a very long time and in the last few years, I figured enough was enough. As many of you know, I am a huge Amiibo collector, so I created a plan to deal with this guilt in a way that is productive and beneficial for all parties involved.

What I've done is created a sort of mult-racial coalition that gets together to work out race issues together. I have a few friends that I will invite out once a month to go over issues of racial sensitivity and repairing the damage my people have done towards them for decades. 

Typically, we will meet up over a casual dinner - I prefer going to Olive Garden, as that is an inclusive dining experience that is neither too casual nor too formal. When we get to the restaurant, I will typically ask the waitress for extra breadsticks, under the guise that our party is exceptionally hungry from the long drive.

As soon as the waitress brings over the breadsticks and leaves, I will dump them into a trash bag I have fixed under my shirt. A lot of people don't know this, but Olive Garden actually offers you free breadsticks for life, assuming you do not leave the restaurant. When the waitress returns to the table to take our drink order (water, of course), I will howl something like "NUMMY NUMMY. ME WANT MORE BREADSTICKS NOW. LADY GIVE!" and begin pounding on the table. She will be thrown off her guard and rush back to the kitchen to provide more breadsticks.

This is the most important part of erasing my white guilt - I will subtley take the trash bag of breadsticks outside (under the cover that I need to go smoke a cigarette - to build this illusion, I will tussle the hair of any kid waiting and go "don't start smokin', buddy. don't be like me") and empty the bag in the footwell of the passenger seat of my car. I will then return to the table and repeat this process about two or three times.

Eventually, the waitress will start to catch on and begin delaying the delivery of breadsticks. This is my cue to leave. I will ask for the bill, which is (of course) $0, and I will leave her a 20% tip ($0). I will then drive home and use the breadsticks to make sandwiches for the month.

What is the thinking man's video game?

Call of Duty WWII

This is a game for the true intellectual; stunted children (liberals) need not apply here. CoD:WWII takes 6 years of the deadliest conflict in human history and condenses them to one $60 package. You are not playing a "shooter," you are playing a slice of life itself.

As you play CoD:WWII, you will be overwhelmed with the entire human experience condensed into one 6 hour campaign. You will see battles fought with intense strategic depth (coordinated by some of the greatest strategic minds, such as Patton and Rommel). You will learn history. You will gaze upon some of the most iconic constructs of man. All of this is wrapped up in an emotional story of loss and sacrifice. If I had to describe CoD:WWII in one word, it would be "profound."

However, the true majesty of CoD:WWII does not just end there. It extends to the multiplayer component as well. Wheras the campaign tests your historical knowledge and emotional depth, the multiplayer will test your reflexes, analytical thinking, mathematical acumen, and non-linear thinking.

Competitive matches are fast, brutal, and highly strategic. Your reflexes will be tested, as will your ability to maintain composure under very high stress. After just one match, I measured my heart rate and found that it was at 200bpm; the game pushed me to my physical peak. After two matches, I found that I was started to gain near superhuman reflexes, enabling me to catch a jar my cat was pushing off the counter before the cat even fully pushed it off. After three matches, I was astrally projecting. 

Outside of the fiercely competitive multiplayer, there is also a fantastic area where you can gain points to unlock loot crates and watch other people open loot crates. Simpletons need not apply here; only the top analytical minds here will be able to keep track of all the various numbers being thrown around, and they will have to be doing combinatorics calculations on the fly in order to fully optimize their loot crate experiences. Some of the most mathematically gifted people will take great intellectual pleasure from just watching other people opening loot crates, knowing that there are so many young people in today's day and age who are deriving pleasure from such probability based math problems. 

Overall, CoD:WWII is the total package. It takes you to new emotional depths you never dreamed of, it hones your physical skills to superhuman levels, and it tests your minds with some of the most difficult math problems known to man. I can think of nothing more powerful.

I have no idea how people enjoy sex. It's too easy.

I like to think of myself as a pretty serious gamer. I've played all the "hard" games, such as Dark Souls, Dark Souls 2, Dark Souls 3, etc and I've destroyed them all. They weren't even remotely a challenge for me. I don't know if it's my quick reflexes or my tactical thinking, but if you put a video game in front of me, that game is going to be beat. The only thing that is getting in my way is a dead controller battery (and even then, I always carry backups at all times).

Lately, I've been getting into more physical activities to challenge me, as video games just do not cut it anymore. I've tried both team sports and solo activities, such as running or rock climbing, and as expected, I've dominated in each of them. However, I do find these activities fun as a change of pace from my usual gaming.

So when my new girlfriend (Michelle (pronounced Mish-elle)) asked if I wanted to try sex, I jumped at the opportunity. I've never had sex before (why waste my seed?) but I figured it would be a great chance to see if this is the ultimate test for my skills. I know lots of men brag about their sexual prowess, so I wanted to see if this was an adequate challenge for someone like me, or just another disappointment. 

To prepare, we first engaged in what Michelle called "foreplay." This was almost pathetically easy; nothing but a bunch of open mouth kisses and rhythmic breast grabs. I even noticed Michelle had her eyes closed, which I think truly illustrates the simplicity of this phase of the sexual process.

After about ten minutes of that nonsense, we decided to go right into the main event, sexual intercourse. For weeks leading up to this moment, I had practiced throwing hoops of various sizes into the air and thrusting my penis through them, simulating what I expected sex to be like, and preparing for any moment. My precision had become unmatched.

So you can imagine my disappointment when Michelle took off her pants and all there was just one hole, and a stationary hole at that. I entered this hole with absolutely no difficulty, tried a few of the trick thrusts I had practiced at home, and 30 seconds later it was over. 

After sex, I told Michelle that I had never been more disappointed in my entire life, and she agreed. How do people find any enjoyment in this? It reminded me of the quick time events in the video games I frequently dominate, only on a biological level. 

Are people really such simpletons that this is a pleasurable activity for them, or am I missing something?

The Power of Apple

When I picked up the iPhone 8, I knew this was no ordinary phone. Just one touch of the smooth glass back filled my body with a sense of energy and strength I had not felt in years.

"Careful!" my friend Mike told me. "You don't want to mess with that thing. Rumor has it that it scored over 10k on Geekbench."

I laughed. "That's nonsense," I said with a smile. "No phone has ever scored that high. Are you trying to pull the wool over ol' GB's eyes?" 

I flipped the phone over and gazed at the screen. The gorgeous Tru-Tone screen sprung to life and filled my eyes with colors that I could never have even imagined.

"WELCOME TO IPHONE," the phone said. "ARE YOU PREPARED TO EXPERIENCE TRUE POWER?" 

Mike jumped back, startled. "I told you not to fuck with that!" he screamed. "It's 10k on Geekbench! The most powerful phone ever, until the next phone that comes out this exact same time next year!"

"YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF THIS POWER," replied the phone. A beam fired out of the iPhone 8, liquifying Mike before my eyes.

"NOW," the phone said. "WHAT WILL YOUR FIRST SEQUENCE BE?"

I looked at the gory remains of my friend. I felt the power of a 10k Geekbench score in the palm of my hand.

"iPhone, open up Facebook," I said, excited to experience such tremendous power. "I've got a post about how BLM is a domestic terrorist group to compose."

Does anyone here work in "Load Management"?

My girlfriend has been unemployed for a little while now and it's been tough on us financially.

Very recently, she found a position doing "Load Management" for a midsized company. I was really excited that she would finally be back to work and that the financial burden would be off of me.

However, I am a little skeptical of what this job actually is. The first thing that seemed odd to me is that she wore very revealing clothing to work each day. I found this odd because people don't typically dress sexy to work, but she told me that this is just how all the female employees dress. 

She tends to stay out at work very late (getting home at 2 or 3am sometimes) and when she gets back she frequently smells like cigarettes and perfume. I'll try and talk to my gf before she goes to bed but normally she only gives me short answers and says she is tired from managing so many loads that day. I also found it a little weird that her job pays her entirely in cash. 

I tried googling the company my gf works for and I could not find anything, and when I called the number it was unavailable. 

I'm going to confront my gf tonight and see what the deal is, because I think her job might be a scam, but I figured I'd ask on here and see if anyone has any experience with Load Management, if they've ever worked in that industry, etc.

Thanks a lot guys!

Couldn't sleep last night, was up thinking of how powerful the Xbox One X is

Typically I go to bed around 11 every night, so I'm well-rested and energized for work the next day.

Last night, I got into bed at 11 as usual, but when I closed my eyes, I just couldn't fall asleep. My mind was racing. The Xbox One X is not only the most powerful console ever created, but it is also the smallest console on the market. 

I tossed and turned in bed. I could not get comfortable. How could I expect to just drift off to sleep knowing that this November, just 4 months from now,gamers will get to experience true raw power, right from their living rooms?

I called up my girlfriend, who goes to bed at 8pm (as women are wont to do). "Hey babe," I said. I could hear her shifting from her sleep. "I can't sleep. I keep thinking of how powerful Microsoft's latest console, the Xbox One X is. Never before has a home console been a 6 teraflop powerhouse before and contained 12GB of RAM."

"Babe," she said, "it's 11pm. I need my 16 hours of sleep so I can face a full day tomorrow of being indecisive about what I want to eat for every meal. Why are you so concerned with such raw power so late at night?"

I howled with disgust. "Woman, listen to me," I screamed into the phone. "It is not every day that such a powerful console comes out. There has never been a console with such speed, yet such elegance, and there never will be again, at least until Microsoft makes the next Xbox. If you cannot understand this situation then perhaps we should see other people."

With that, I hung up on my ex-girlfriend and chucked my iPhone across the room. It smashed against the wall and landed into a pile of my other broken iPhones. Now I am exhausted at work and the Xbox One X is still the most powerful and smallest console on the market.

xbox scorpio tuned, now have 9 GB is RAM for games instead of 8

oh man, i'm so excited for this.

last night I was playing some Gears of War 4 and I kept losing matches. I'm a beast with the sniper and my shotgun skills are unmatched, so I was scratching my head trying to figure out what was wrong with my play.

I did some Googling and I found the cause: there just wasn't enough RAM. With only 8GB of RAM, good luck unlocking your full potential as a gamer. To me, 8GB of RAM is basically the equivalent of wearing a ball and chain around your ankle; how are you going to dodge and roll and blast your shotgun when you have 100lbs of iron wrapped around your leg?

Thankfully, I called up my boy Freddy, who is a technological genius. "Freddy," I said. "My game is slipping. My rank isn't what it used to be. You gotta help me out."

"I've got just the thing," Freddy said. He came over right away with a funny looking metal box. "This box contains 1GB of RAM. I bought this off the black market in Bolivia. Plug this right into your Xbox and let's just say you'll start to see some sparks flyin'." 

I plugged in the extra RAM and immediately I began dominating. With all that extra memory, I no longer had to remember anything, and pretty soon my brain was operating at 100% efficiency. I climbed the ranks fast - bronze, silver, gold, platinum, goldinum. There was no stopping my gameplay now.

"Freddy," I said. "Can RAM be used for anything else?" He nodded and showed me a custom made RAM helmet he had, specifically tailored to my cranium. I popped the headgear on and pretty soon I was playing at a level that no gamer had ever been at before. I was sniping enemies not only before they could snipe me, but before they had even reached the cover, since my brain was thinking so quickly. 

I had to take the helmet off, though, since Freddy said my scans were getting red-hot. Needless to say, I'm pretty excited for the Scorpio.

Wow, I was almost assaulted by a jenkhead last night.

I can't believe how narrowly I avoided getting seriously hurt - I'm still shaking as I am typing this.

Anyway, last night, it was a friend of mine's birthday, so I met up with him and a few other people to celebrate at his apartment in NYC, followed by a little bar hopping afterwards in Brooklyn.

It was starting to get late and I had work the next morning, so I figured it was time to head back to my home (in NJ). I hustled back to NY Penn Station and waited it out in the main terminal area while I waited for my train to board. As I was gazing up at the train schedule, I felt a sudden and powerful urge to use the bathroom. I immediately realized that the spicy wings I had ate just hours ago were now desperately trying to escape, and if I didn't make it to a bathroom soon, I was going to have an accident soon.

I beelined to the bathroom, rushed into a stall, and unleashed a BM so foul that I felt I may have disrespected the dead. I leaned back on the toilet and breathed a sigh of relief, but my victory was shortlived; as I debated in my mind over what wiping method I was going to use (leaning towards the Kleinman Method), I heard a sudden and very loud knock on the stall door.

"Ayo," a loud voice bellowed. "hook ya boy up with some of that dank ass jenk." I immediately tensed up. I had heard about the growing jenkem epidemic in the US Northeast, but this was the first time I had ever actually had an encounter with a jenkhead, live and in person.

As many of you know, I am a huge Amiibo collector, so in a small voice I replied "Excuse me my good sir, but perchance, hath you confused me with another gentleman? I do not believe I am the 'boy' that you seek, and I urge you to continue your search within the other stalls of this fine establishment. I wish you the best of luck in your search and all future endeavors." 

However, this comment did nothing to allay the frenzied jenkhead. With a swift kick, the stall door came crashing down, and I was face to face with this fearsome man. I removed my tophat and steampunk goggles as a sign of respect, but this only seemed to make the jenkhead madder. I saw him pull his fist back in preparation for punching my lights out. I reached for my tanto, but then decided to try one last tactic to diffuse this situation.

"Sir," I said calmly. "Before you beat me to a pulp and steal my precious jenk, let me ask you a quick question. Do you believe in global warming?"

The jenkhead looked confused. "Uh yeah, I guess," he replied, scratching his head with his humongous fingers. 

"In John 8:12, Jesus Christ tells us that he is 'the light of the world.' We now know that the sun is the source of the world's light, as well as heat. Now, if Jesus is the primary source of heat to the Earth, and he is all-loving, all-knowing, and all-powerful, how could he possibly be heating this Earth at a rate that is not perfect?"

All of a sudden, the jenkhead's eyes opened wide and he lowered his fist. "I never thought of it that way," the jenkhead stated. I handed him a set of rosary beads, and we both immediately knelt down in that stall to play.

Suddenly, I saw a face peek out from underneath the stall next to me. It was none other than Bill Nye the Vegan Science Guy. 

"Young man," Bill Nye said to me. "In all of my years pretending to be a scientist on TV, I've never heard an argument as compelling as yours. I've decided to give up my life of science and peeping at Karlie Kloss' tight booty to become a man of the Lord. However, before I leave, I'd like to give you this $25 Best Buy Gift Card." Bill Nye the Vegan Science Guy gave me a kiss on the cheek, and like that, he was gone.

Overall, it was a scary experience and this encounter with an addict really opened my eyes to just how serious the drug problems in America are.

Are you man enough to raise another man's child?

An alarming trend I've noticed among a very large amount of men in 2017 is that they possess almost none of the characteristics that have made men who they are for thousands of years. In fact, these creatures can only be considered "men" in the sense that they have aged the correct number of years to be considered adult males.

These men (most of who are liberals) tend to have an enormous sense of entitlement, shirk responsibility, fear commitment, and only opt to do things when it is directly rewarding to them. In a sense, they are not real men but rather adult children, with a narrow mindset and no capacity to look at the "big picture."

No area is this more evident in than when you will see many of these "men" (liberals) talk about how they refuse to date a woman simply because she is a single mom, and they don't want to "raise another man's kid."

This is disgusting. Not only are these men choosing loneliness and isolation over a healthy adult relationship because of a human life, but they are also depriving themselves of one of the greatest joys of life (fatherhood) simply because they did not contribute DNA to this child.

For the last 2 years, I have been dating a single mom, and it has been the most rewarding experience of my life. Aiden, Braiden, and Caiden are like my own children to me, and even though I do not share a DNA bond with them and they call me by my first name, I feel a powerful and immutable connection. It takes a big man to want to become a dad to these kids, to help a single mom in her noble quest, and to deal with the fathers of Aiden, Braiden, and Caiden, and I believe I am that man.

It is very disheartening to see so many young men fall into the trap of entitlement and selfishness - to avoid family life based on some silly preconceived notions, to feel they are entitled to have a family on THEIR terms, and to only have children when it provides some sense of satisfaction to them. To me, it personally fulfilling to watch Aiden, Braiden, and Caiden every other weekend (hearing them say "oh, hey Pete" when I come over is one of the most satisfying things in a "father's" life), and I don't need the satisfaction that I somehow contributed to the conception of these children.

What do you think, CE? Are you man enough to raise another man's child, or are you an emotional child yourself?

Wow, I just saw a transman use the mens' bathroom this morning.

I had off from work this morning so I figured I'd do some shopping today at my local mall. As I was shopping, I felt the 3 redbulls I drank begging to leave my body and I rushed towards the bathroom.

I was at the urinal peeing, minding my own business, when I heard grunts and a light plopping noise from one of the stalls. I immediately stopped peeing, mid-stream (no ordinary task). Something didn't sound right.

I heard another grunt and another light plop and I realized this grunt was no ordinary grunt. Thankfully, I had recorded all the grunts on my phone, and I quickly ran them through an app I had downloaded a few days ago, Male Vocal Pattern Analyzer Lite (I'm not going to buy the full version lol). I analyzed the pitch and tone and realized that something was a little off - it did not match up with the voice patterns in the database.

I immediately put away my penis and sprinted over to the stall. I kicked in the door with all my might and the door swung back, hitting the side of the stall with a huge THUD. "DUMP POLICE!" I hollered, forcing my way into the stall. On the toilet sat a man taking what looked to be squeezing out a very hard BM, probably due to weeks of poor hydration and fiber intake. 

"I'm sorry sir," I said to the man, sheathing my tanto and bowing in respect. "I noticed your vocal patterns were a little off and I-" I stopped speaking mid sentence. As I went down to gaze at his penis, I noticed that there was nothing there. Nothing. 

My blood ran cold and the color drained out of my face. It all made sense now. This was no regular man - this was a trans man. I had heard rumors of these men years ago, hushed stories around the campfire of people biologically born as one sex who experienced a different gender identity. I remember laughing it off, thinking that there could never possibly be anyone different than me, since, as many of you know, I am a huge Amiibo collector.

But here I was, face to face with a transman. The men's room, a room I once called a restroom, no longer was a safe space where I could freely and openly communicate with my fellow man about how much corn was in our bowel movements - the restroom had become perverted, morphed from a safe haven for men to just a place where people pee and poop and then leave when they're done to go about their day.

I turned to run, but the man had blocked the exit to the restroom. I tried to unsheath my tanto, but the man utilized his whip-like tongue to knock it out my hand. He stood over me, prepared to deliver the killing blow.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a shot rang out and the man dropped to the floor and disintegrated into a green slime. Emerging from the last stall was none other than Jeff "Puff Puff I'll Pass" Sessions. He rammed another silver bullet into his rifle, fired at the goo to ensure his kill, and then helped me up.

"You did a great deed here, Mr. Shinobi," Jeff said. "Your policing of this bathroom has allowed me to peacefully take one of the most powerful BMs of my life. The poop hit the water with such force that the toilet water acted as a sort of makeshift bidet, allowing me to take a messy shit but not even have to wipe. A dump like that comes once in a lifetime, and your good deed will not go unnoticed."

Jeff "Puff Puff I'll Pass" Sessions reached into his fanny pack, pulled out a $25 Best Buy Gift Card, and handed it to me. "Use this on anything you like at over 1,900 Best Buy locations worldwide, or on their website, which offers a convenient shopping experience from the comfort of your own home." With that, Jeff gave me a kiss on the cheek and left the mens' room. I ran out to remind him to wash his hands, but like that, he was gone.

Anyway, it was a really interesting experience this morning!

Applebees truly is an experience like no other.

Applebees is more than just a restaurant, it is an experience.

When you step through the door of the restaurant your first time, you are transported into a world unlike any other. The low light of the restaurant casts shadows on the knick-knacks adorning the walls, and the translucent hum of the various screens through the restaurant create a sort of ethereal presence in the restaurant.

Right off the bat, you know you are in for a dining experience like no other.

"Welcome to Applebees!" a cheerful host says to you. "How many are in your party?" You hold up two fingers. "Right this way!" She responds. As you walk to your table, you wonder how she can deal with so many customers, yet remain so chipper, but shrug it off as another wonderful mystery caused by the splendor of Applebees.

The waitress takes your drink order and for a moment, your head is spinning. Do you want a soda? Do you want iced tea? You look at the drink menu and you see a litany of alcohol beverages you have only dreamed about - Bud Light, Coors Light, Miller Light...

The waitress offers a helpful suggestion of an Oreo Shake, and you say that sounds great. She asks if you'd like a round of water for the table as well. You smile. This is the kind of attention to detail that you expect from Michelin Star rated restaurants, not a Neighborhood Bar & Grill!

As the waitress goes to fetch your shake, you peruse the menu. The pages are jam-packed with the names of delicacies that you can only imagine. Fiesta Lime Chicken? Shrimp N' Parmesan Sirloin? You shift in your seat; you suddenly feel very self-aware that you do not belong in this restaurant. Your palatte does not feel sophisticated enough for these cuisines, and you worry that you will not do these delicacies justice when you enjoy them.

Just at this moment, the waitress comes to your table and all your fears are dissuaded. You order the Chicken Tenders Platter (a local favorite). You take a sip from your Oreo Shake and breath a sigh of relief as liquified Oreos slide down your throat. You lean back in your booth and relax.

Suddenly, you hear a chorus of heavenly voices rise from behind you. You turn around to see all of the Applebees wait staff coming towards you, singing and clapping their hands. "Happy happy birthday, from Applebees to you," they cheer. "We wish it was our birthday, so we could party too, hey!" 

As soon as they arrived, the employees scatter, leaving you to dwell on the beauty of it all; the fact that Applebees treats you with such precise, special attention, the five-star cuisine, the exotic decor, and the fact that the wait staff is so eager to share in your special moments with you.