I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that by virtue of reading this site, you like to get weird.  Not weird like collecting the dirty kleenex your sexy coworker throws away, but weird like scissoring with a bro in a limo or taking a bath with a couple buddies, a bath  that may or may not have ended when the water became polluted with vomit.  And who better to get weird with than the homeboys with whom you probably watched your first porn and maybe even had sex for the first time in the same room at roughly the same time as (don’t judge me, I am the one giving advice here).  Without further procrastination, I give you Biffy’s Guide to Getting Weird while Going Home for the Holidays.

Going home for the holidays puts me in a true Jekyl and Hyde predicament.  On the one hand, I like to spend some quality time with the family that will inevitably lead to me throwing a temper tantrum and storming upstairs when my youngest sister beats me yet again in checkers, but on the other hand I like to kick it w/ the boys in the hood, which will invariably lead to me doorbell ditching strangers solo at 3:30 in the morning , and then giggling like a schoolgirl as I jog (soft J) 16 blocks home with no shirt on.   Thus there are 2 Biffy’s constantly at tension with one another.  As such, I have developed 5 rules that will help ease that tension and ensure that you a happy and healthy (ok probably not healthy) holiday vacation back in your hometown….

Continue reading “Biffy’s Guide to Getting Weird while Going Home for the Holidays” »

then why the fuck can’t he go back in time and put Kobe Bryant in jail for a crime he did commit.  If he’s just a ruthless thug dictator, why the fuck didn’t he act like one during the Pau Gasol trade?

P.S. I fucking HATE the Lakers and I still think this is bullshit.

P.P.S. No still means no Kobe, even when it comes to anal.

Welcome back to Biffy’s Guide to Picking up a Loose Hippie Chick, Part 2.  If you missed part one last week, click here.  With that, let’s dive right in.

As you’ll recall from last week, I was having trouble deciding how to penetrate said hippie encampment in order to penetrate said hot but presumably loose hippie.  No need to recant my various efforts here (go back and read it you lazy sack of shit), but needless to say they never got off the ground.  If I was going to do this, it was going to have to take some ingenuity, some testicular fortitude, and most importantly, overlooking mostly repulsive smells emanating from the Occupy DC camp.  I was growing frustrated and considering dropping the whole thing and going to a GW bar to hit on 20 year olds with fake IDs (who would obviously be reading at a grad school level) when I remembered something that hippies do that I saw on some stupid fucking Phish DVD my freshman year of college: barter.

Continue reading “Biffy’s Guide to Picking Up An Occupy Your City Chick Part 2” »

if this protester were a president,
she’d be Baberaham Lincoln

3 weeks ago, I walked through one of the Occupy DC encampments and saw the first hot hippie chick I’ve seen since these protests started. It made me lament the fact that loose hippie chicks never seem to respect me on their level for whatever reason, whether they’re hot or not.  Which is a total bummer because everyone knows that hippie chicks love to fuck.  The downside is that most hippie chicks are gross and hairy and stinky.  But since I’m a passionate man with loose morals and flexible standards (in reality a tea party chick would probably be more satisfying but I haven’t seen a hot tea party chick so like Kurtis Blow I want you to know that these are the breaks)  I decided that I would try to penetrate the Occupy DC movement in hopes of penetrating said loose hippie chick.  This is the story of my strategy.

First Try: Bad Ass Outsider Sympathetic to the Cause…

Continue reading “Biffy’s Guide for Picking Up An Occupy Your City Chick Part 1” »

I know I said that I’d write about banging loose hippie chicks this week but that’s what we in the business call a fluid situation right now so I gotta wait a week to see how that shit plays out.  Get down.

I use the terms “relationship”, “dated” and, “ex” extraordinarily loosely in an effort to be a gentleman and protect the reputations of both myself and my various female companions, and as is the case with pretty much all the shit I write on here, I have broken down these “ex’s” into 4 categories:

1. THE MOTHER OF YOUR ESKIMO BROTHER
2. THE ACQUAINTANCE
3. THAT CHICK YOU HATE
4. THAT CRAZY ASS THAT HATES YOU

Writing these last two weeks about fandom was fun, but I would really like to return to my roots of writing about something that I know nothing about, kinda like Eddie Murphy quitting family films and potentially returning to stand-up.  So I decided to tackle marriage, and let all you hot glovers out there know what’s up before you make a potentially expensive mistake.  So let’s take this from the top.

As you probably know, I advocate bros maintaining a position of power in all relationships with women save for mothers, grandmothers, and maybe sisters.  The key to that is maintaining a rigid negotiating position.  So that means that early on, you need to save face by either a.) saying you don’t want to get married for at least 5-10 years (no matter how old you are) or b.) expressing skepticism about the entire institution of marriage.  Some good ways of doing this from kinda dick-ish to full-blown asshole:

• “With half of all American marriages ending in divorce, I’d have to be REALLY sure before making that type of emotional and financial commitment.”
• “I’m not married to the idea of marriage”
• “I value my free time too much to get married.”
• “I’m too selfish to get married”
• “I can’t imagine loving, or even liking anyone enough to want to marry them”
• “I doubt I could be faithful to anyone for a lifetime.”
• “I’d be down to have kids, but I’d just as soon their mother have her own place.”

Continue reading “Biffy’s Guide to Getting Married” »

If you missed part 1 or part 2 click here and here to get up to speed.  Anyways, in part 1, I referenced a buddy named Charlie Chung, who says pretty much all the time, “BRONCOS WIN THE SUPER BOWL,” and explained him to be a tier 3 fan.  To me this asian kid looks no older than 19 to me, so it’s hard to imagine him ever going to the Old Mile High (last regular season game was played there in 2000) but that’s neither here nor there.  This, my friends, is the face of a 3rd tier fan of my own rock-bottom team.  I need a drink (though not as badly as this dude must’ve after last week).   Fucking McDaniels.

P.S. I have a dream.  A dream where Andrew Luck’s Heisman campaign burns out, and coincidentally, the Broncos have a chance to draft him.  And they go ahead and do so, while not trading Brady Quinn, Kyle Orton, and of course not Tebow (obviously he’s untradeable).  Not because I think he’s that good, or that I think his draft stock will drop if he doesn’t win the Heisman.  But if we’re going to become a side-show 2nd tier franchise, I would just as soon have us go all the way, come up with some stupid slogan (JUST WIN BABY is now available, no?) and carry 4 one-time Heisman front-runners on our roster to compliment our roster of back-ups and has-beens.   Fuck.