My house made Dexter blood slides.
The Playbook by Barney Stinson and Matt Kuhn
Alright, here’s the thing. As you all know, any good bro has read Bro on the Go, and of course The Bro Code . And obviously both of them helped increase your awesomeness factor by a few notches - nothing precipitous of course, you’re more than a few rungs below me here.
However, sometimes…the follow-up just isn’t that great. We saw an episode - s05e08, “The Playbook” written by Craig Thomas and Carter Bays (the EPs) - that featured this glorious document in action and we were all astounded - nay, brostounded - by the success rate, inventiveness, and playfullness of the book. I’m starting to think that this wasn’t the same book. Bluntly put, this book simply re-affirmed everything I do. And trust me when I say that I get re-affirmed right and left: I am overflowing with re-affirment, if you would. I expected more, Stinson. I expected plays so legendary that decades, perhaps millennia from now, people would still speak of the great pickup artists of the early 2000s, the men who shook the very foundation of this society - and caused women to rethink “accessibility”. Instead…why, when I read this book I see plays that I came up with in the middle of some of my dumber plays, plays I came up with when I was 5 years old and still learning the finer aspects of the debonair. Good effort, bro. Good effort. But your “k” earns you no metaphorical cigar.
Speaking of cigars, this book gets 3 out of 5 cigars. For instant reference, both of Stinson’s prior publications earned 4.5 cigars.
That being said, I urge you to check it out - you’ll certainly learn something, but then again, anyone starting from square one would learn something. Maybe one or two of you will finally obtain what we in the business call “game”. Probably not though, a lot of you are lost causes - but the important thing is that you believe that you can get some game. But you probably won’t.
Anyway. Bump it! Peace out, bros.
This is another one. How awesome is this cat?
I have decided to wallpaper my corner in de-motivational posters. Here’s one.
Pathways to Awesomeness
Back in the summer of 2004, my best friend, Wallaby, and I decided that we wanted to form a band. Now, as a recovering narcissist, I must say, as awesome as I want to say we were…I don’t want to make your loser middle school bands put to shame, so I’ll hold it in. I know, I’m the master of humility - it’s a blessing and a curse.
Anyway, we formed a band, rocked a few gigs, and called it a day. Then a year later, he was like, “bro. Why did we stop rocking it so hard?” And I was like, “because dude, the administration felt over-shadowed by our rebel rockhood.” So then we reformed the band under the name “Fathom”, which was taken, so we switched to “Dead Messenger”, then some Canadian dude threatened to sue us, and…it was kind of a mess. Who knew Canada even had lawyers, right? I kid, I kid.
Moving forward- we finally came up with a name, and started writing our new album. We are…
wait for it…
PATHWAYS TO AWESOMENESS!
Yeah. That just happened. And our new album’s going to be called “Sexual Harassment”.
The usual screen bump - NICE - and see you kids later.
