dynamoaf

Did anyone else try to get off by putting a Nintendo 64 rumble pack on their dick?

You know what I like? When you publish the searches that people have made to get to dynamoaf. I think you should do that regularly - post the most popular ones and the strangest ones.  It always entertains me.

DO IT NOW

-Luke

I work with a bunch of Cali dudes, and the hardest thing about working with them is deciphering their lingo. I don’t know maybe you’ve heard of these, but I had not, so I thought I’d share a little bit.

Grips. - Grips means “a lot of” as in “Yo, he’s gettin Grips of fucking money on that deal”

Baller. - Like a cool dude, I’m not sure.

Swoop. - I can really only use this one in a sentence. “There was one hot chick at the party, he swooped in on her.” or “that motherfucker swooped on on the last slice of pizza”

Postin’ Up. - Hanging out.

Faded. - High

Flossin Titties - Showing off Cleavage

Holla - ugh.

There’s so much more, I’m just fucking confused everytime one of these motherfuckers speak. This is all the shit I ould gather from fucking context clues. Maybe I’m the Massachusetts retard who doesn’t understand their bling blang speech. But I don’t think so. I’ll stick to Wicked, Bubbler, and Queeyah any old day.

- KURT

There is something incredibly intentional about FOX starting to air ‘The Bernie Mac Show’ reruns the day he died. But there is something extra over the line about them airing an episode about Bernie dealing with death.

If they don’t make as big a deal as when Heath Ledger died, I’m gonna be ripshit!

- KURT

The hipster who decided cut-off jean shorts were going to be “fashionable” “again” this summer should be shot in the head. After his brain matter leaves his head, it should be collected in a jar and placed in front of a boombox playing Kanye West’s newest album - but there’s a catch: the album is so scratched that the same seven seconds after 1:36 on track 2 keep playing over and over again.

Once the brains begin to boil, they will be recrystallized and cooled slowly to room temperature, then in ice. The crystals will be suction-filtered to remove the liquid, and the solids will be left to dry overnight. Once dry, they will be packed into a small film cannister and buried in the mulch bed outside the nearest strip mall.

That is all.

-Luke

Got another one for you guys:

http://www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Backstage/6919/index.html

This is going to be my last awful link because there are just too many awful websites on the Internet.

Anyway, this one appears to have been made in the mid-90s and was never updated for Y2K.  Just look at some of the lame photoshopped pictures, and you’ll see what I mean about awful.

METAL!

-Luke

(or any movie ever)

Alex

This post is about John D’Ambrisi and his blog because, as I just mentioned, I read all the posts I had missed over the past 6 months.

First, I don’t understand anything about his life at all. It’s like watching a movie that has 99 out of 100 frames blacked out. The occasional flashes of information don’t do anything to dispel lingering curiosities and only add more to the pile. How does he earn a living? Physically where in the world is he? How does his body hold up to constant abuse? He’s writing a book? Two? What?

Apart from those questions, it’s pretty much business as usual. Drinking heavily, pissing away huge amounts of money, being rude, and shamelessly hitting on women. Although I think Dynamoaf is a better blog simply because we have 4 posters, John is individually more enjoyable to read than any one of us because he doesn’t let his pride get in the way of sharing things truthfully. It’s like he’s got a real big beer belly that he’s not about to suck in just because the Internet is watching. Kurt doesn’t have much pride on Dynamoaf either, but he never delves into the sort of material that John thrives in.

Keep going.

Alex

P.S. Plug in your guitar.

I didn’t read John D’Ambrisi’s blog for a long long time (more about it later) and I didn’t notice the pretty apt observation he made about my posting style on this site. Everything I write here is an incredibly acute complaint that then allows me to flow into a bulleted list. John wanted me to write about my great triumphs, and I do live a really good life but I just never talk about it here because it isn’t funny or interesting: I graduated from Columbia and now I live in Manhattan’s East Village and work for one of the largest engineering firms in the world and get paid to design large buildings in New York and its environs. I am also seeing a very sharp and very beautiful Indian lady I met at Columbia.

Nobody gives a shit about any of those things though, and I am aware of that. My life is good, which means nobody wants to hear about it. People would rather know about the lady at the Angelika Theater on Houston St. who “accidentally” poured searing hot popcorn butter all over my arm. Then I had to go home and drink a whole bottle of wine to feel better. Everyone came back from the movie and we went out to a nearby bar where I promptly got thrown out after a waitress reprimanded me and I just barked back, “I WILL DO AS I PLEASE.”

That is what this blog is about.

But I saw that John liked my video game high score, and it actually made me happy that it made him happy. I will post more tiny triumphs as they occur.

Alex

Why am I such a nervous wreck all the time? I get a complete panic attack whenever I get a missed call from anyone, especially a number I don’t know. I just assume somebody has died and now I’m going to miss the funeral. Or that someone is in the intensive care unit and all they want to do is talk to me before they fade, but they can’t because I didn’t answer my phone.

It isn’t like all these thoughts flash before me when I miss a phone call, they are compacted and internalized into this seed of worry that resurfaces when I accidentally leave my phone on silent.

Other things that make me have actual panic attacks:

• My roommate’s girlfriend has taken to sending me texts or Facebook messages saying simply, “Be worried” or “Uh-Oh.” I know she is fucking with me but when she says “Be worried,” it works.
• Any toothache, no matter how minor.
• When I see a real pretty girl working at a shitty job, knowing that she deserves a better life.
• If I buy a piece of furniture how the hell am I going to get it back to my apartment GODDAMMIT

Alex