Rhonda Douchette...or whatever:

An Impartial Observer...I guess

Disclaimer: Everything in this entry was written by Rhonda, a fellow zookeeper who frequents our apartment because....well I do not know why. Probably because she is lame. Enjoy.

You have read “manly confessions”. You have read “haus sport facts”. Somewhere in between is the truth. And here it is...

Let me explain my role in this fiasco. Matt was my friend first. But then I met Jesse and traded up. Until I got to know Vanessa- at which point Jesse was demoted to #2...much like how my favorite beverage was Busch beer...until I discovered Sam Adams. Anyway, I spend a lot of time with these numb nuts. Needless to say I know them both very well- probably better then they know themselves. The key to having a successful relationship with both simultaneously is selective hearing. My earballs simply cant handle all the nonsense. To give you an example, as I am writing this Matt sashays over to the fridge, opens it, and pulls out an empty Coke box. Why would anyone hog refrigerator space with an empty Coke box? Jesse. What other single man would care? Matt. These two have enough issues to make even Dr. Phil's head hurt. Two words can describe both of them...overcompensation.

Matt says some really harsh shit about Jesse. What you may not know is that he says harsh shit about everyone. He hands out insults to his friends like a pedophile hands out candy on halloween. Its just who is he is. By publicly outing everyone's faults, he keeps his own faults out of the spotlight- or so he thinks. The bottom line is most of us just don't care about Matt's faults, so he is just wasting time when he could be doing something constructive , like applying self tanner to his calves to diminish that retarded rubber boot tan-line he's got going on.

And then we have Jesse. Jesse is totally overcompensating his heterosexualness. At the risk of someone, ANYONE questioning his heteroness because of this domestic partnership he peppers every conversation he has with “banging chicks”. He talks about it so much that Matt has taken it upon himself to pimp Jesse out to some lucky lady. This is just crazy. Matt knows about as much on what straight women want as Corky from life goes on does.

Together, these two are as magical as a trainwreck. Regular terms one can hear at any given moment from these fucktards are as follows...”Daddy”, “Love you”, “Hi Boo”, and “I need another drink”. And while we are on the topic of drinking...this apartment has single handedly saved no less than 13 people from alcohol poisoning. How? Because they drink so much that there is none left for anyone else.

And the fighting...oh my god, the fighting. Some of it is enertaining. Like Matt throwing Jesse's bowling trophy over the balcony because Jesse disobeyed one of Matt's house rules and wore his slanket outside of the bedroom when company was over. “I warned you Jesse!!!”...boom...over the side it goes. Some of it is bizarre- like why is there chocolate cake all over the kitchen floor? And some of it is just plain awkward- like “FUCK YOU-WE ARE DONE! DONE! I HOPE YOU DIE!” oh wait, that was Joey, not Jesse...but you get the idea.

So which blog do we believe? The bottom line is that both blogs are exaggerated to the point that they are bordering delusional. Except for Jesse and his obnoxious TV habits. Every bit of that shit is true.

Matt McHale

Nice Person or the Nicest Person on the Earth?

Yes I meant to word the title like that. Bear with me. I wanted to write an entry about why Matt is so awesome because he has accidentally said some knice stuff about me so I figured turnabout is fair play. I also wanted to say some knice things about the random female bird keepers that may have been collateral damage in my Matt bashing. I may have said one or two or twenty seven bad things about them.

I came up with the title to this entry when I started thinking about the kind of person Matt is. He is uncommonly kind. Like really fucking kind. Like to a fault. Like young Anakin Skywalker, he gives with no thought receiving anything in return. I did not realize any of this until I moved in with him because of the reputation that you zooclowns gave him. He just bought me four frakkin bottles of whiskey. I could sit here and list other knice stuff he has done but it would take too long and I do not want to lose Christy's attention. Calm down Christy...SQUIRREL!!!

Another thing about him is that he will never refuse when asked to help. Not only at work, in the month and a half I have lived with him, he has lent assistance to me and his family at least 20 times. Whether it is letting me have the gate card or helping me move into the apt. Whether it is making me a dessert dish to bring to my friends or giving his douche brother money to buy Christmas presents. One person I can now count on in my life is Matt.

Now I know you are all thinking, “Ya Jesse but he bitches about everything and is fake as shit.” All I can say is that fake or not, at some point he is just a knice guy. Only knice guys do things that they do not want to do, which leads me to random female bird keepers who I let amuse me. This is not an apology. I meant everything I said and I would say it again. And I will. Rhonda is awesome as hell. She is always down to hang out. She actually came to watch me bowl when no one else would...douches. And no matter the occasion, bitch is fly. Like WTF? Were at IHOP. Tone it down...but dont. And talk about a shoulder on which to cry....if anyone wanted to do that cause I dont have time to cuz I am an awesome hairy man who is in like 10 fight clubs while killing animals with my “bear” hands...and my shirt of red, pulled over my head. Speaking of red, Vanessa WTF?!?! She is totally not huge at all. And whoever would say something like that would have to be the most gigantic douchedick on the earth. She's so awesome that I hate hanging out with her. Clever jokes? Funny jokes? Ability to eat ham? Vanessa 3-Jesse 0. She made Jesse Italian food and likes musicals??? Stop. And that smile along those beautiful blues are so fucking sweet that I swear I am going to get diabetes just thinking about them...along with the over-eating alcoholism. Gawd!! Stop distracting me!!! I am trying to play angry birds and check out Matt's ass.

Ok this entry really hurt to write. The next one is sure to be riddled with hatred and anger.

I hate you all,

Love Jesse.

Out.

Keeping the Bitch Happy: A Guideline to Keeping a Smile on Your Gay Man.

Well it has been about a month and a half since I moved in with Matt. Despite what you might take out of his, "I'm so gay that I am on the rag everyday of the year blog", our living situation is doing pretty well. We just signed a year lease, so I guess despite my best efforts, I passed. And this entry is going to explain how I did just that.

Disclaimer: Again I feel the need to warn readers right now that this entry will have nothing to do with sports. Gay people should stop reading now. Also any sensitive women should cease and desist. Especially bird keeping women. I do not want your opinion of me getting any lower than it already is.

About three weeks after the move, I realized something about the living situation between myself and Matt. There were certain signs that I was seeing and some of them very disturbing. Matt and I were in a relationship. A non-sexual, male life partner relationship. And if you know anything about my previous relationships, I have a lot of experience in this kind of relationship....the non-sexual part anyway. Jesse's sad history aside, after realizing this, I knew I could totally manipulate Matt into doing pretty much whatever I wanted while still letting him think he had the power in the relationship. Vintage Jesse. So here are some tips to keeping a gay bitch in check. Also useful with almost all women. (if you women have not stopped reading yet just remember I warned you and now it is on you)

1. Flattery. Like with all women, apple-shaped rectum rangers like and need to be complimented. Because exactly like with women, even if the Nathan Lane wannabe knows youre being fake, he will still love it and instantly feel better about himself.   Heres an example I could use on a woman, “Dynamite hair today Vanessa BTW.  I really like your ear warmer....” or “Rhonda that jacket is awesome. Killer boots man!!”   Now Vanessa doesnt even remember that I didnt wanna eat her nasty ass lasagna or watch the musical which surely made Ernest Hemingway lose faith in humanity and put a shotgun in his mouth.  And Rhonda buys me beer and offers to pick up some whiskey for me. Gullibility is the curse of the female/gay gender. I use little pet names on Matt like “Daddy” and tell him things like “your cooking is so crazy good. My mom loved that cake you made her.” Like hes not gonna cook something for me right after he hears that. And no my mom couldnt choke down what can only be called “cardboard cake” that Matt thinks she loved. I know you love some Harry Ballsagna Matt, but leave the baking to the barefoot and pregnant women. They know their place, I am slowly teaching you yours.
2. Shiny things. This one is easy if youre trying to please a beer guzzling, cumdumpster. I randomly buy him a 30 pack of silver bullets and he is so taken by the gesture that he gets a little half woody and totally forgets that we are totally no where near even. “Well I'm just gonna do something knice for you”.....Douche...
3. TV privileges. Now read carefully men. This is a tricky topic. This takes some real self-loathing and patience to pull this off. Lucky for me, I have perfected this. It is all about trickery and deceit. If you pull it off right, youll have your show on the living room tv, the game on your tv in your room and the hemroid hitman making you some chinese chicken and rice in the kitchen. First and foremost, keep the remote in your hand. Once his puffy fingers touch the remote, youre doomed to die in a housewife/bridezilla hell. This is enough for most poop chuters. They like to be taken care of and told what to do. My gay man is a little too moody for this to work all the time so there is one more strategy. This is where the self-loathing comes into play. Youre going to have to turn to one of these fagtool shows that the woman wants. And you might have to watch more than you can handle. Here is where the gay man's fatal flaw presents itself. Most rump rammers are nurturers by nature and on top of that, they try to out woman, women. With a couple of logical scoffs and one liners, Richard Simmons' need to please will come out and you can watch big bang theory all night while he compliments Sheldon Cooper's clothing. Gawd what a flamer.

I hope these tips will get the man in your life in check and keep the smile on his Pillsbury doughboy face. Silly faggot, decisions are for men...

Out.