Things I Could Theoretically Take in a Fight

I’ve never really been in a fight. Aside from a few shoving matches, it’s mostly been the whole “try to look tough and yell ‘Do somethin!’ type thing”. If I were to get in a fight with a similar sized person of similar ability, I’d probably end up like Rihanna riding shotgun. There are some instances however, where I feel that I could hold my own if it came down to it. I present: Things I Could Theoretically Take in a Fight.

1. A baby chimpanzee.

Let it be known that I would not fuck with a full size chimp. Once angered, they turn into face ripping little furry semi-people. If I encountered a baby chimp, before it got too big, I could take it in a fight. I’m sure it still has decent strength, but not enough world experience to understand how to fight off an attacker. Pop quiz- how do you block a scissor kick, you little shit? Oh that’s right, you are a stupid baby monkey, lights out. That little fucker in the picture doesn’t look to be more than 20-25 pounds tops. Worst case scenario, I could just throw it. Chalk up a victory for Ryan, until it’s chimp family finds out and hunts me down with their evil chimp vengeance.

2. A zombie

The new, fast zombies don’t count, that is cheating bullshit. The slow, stupid ones I could take. First off, they aren’t fast, my grandma could out run shuffle one. I imagine I could just run up and Pacquio it in the face, doesn’t seem too difficult. To be honest, I am slightly faster than an obese woman on a Hoveround, but still faster than your everyday zombie. I would feel slight guilt about beating a baby chimp half to death because c’mon, it’s adorable. Zombies on the other hand are just dicks (and ugly) and their main objective in (non)life is to bite people and eat their brain. These assholes have it coming to them. Their main defense is my weak stomach. I gag when I have to clean out the rotten vegetables from the drawer in the fridge. They would probably catch me while I was vomiting violently and eat me.

3. A shark

“Ryan, you must be insane!” you say? Hear me out. In water, I’d be devoured faster than a bag of Doritos at a Star Wars convention. If the shark were to somehow end up on land, and I had enough room to stand back while it reverse-drowns or whatever that’s called, I totally win. I’d be known as Ryan, the guy who totally killed a shark once.

4. Stephen Hawking

You laughed. You’re going to Hell too.

5. Jared Leto

I’m sure if he really wanted to, Mr. Leto could kick my ass. I’d imagine though, if faced with confrontation, Leto would cry and write a poem about the whole ordeal. His band has a song called “Attack”, but I’m assuming it’s about attacking the anger and despair he feels in his soul. So I call this one a draw, since the fight probably wouldn’t actually take place (plus I wouldn’t want to mess up that pristine hair). This goes for pretty much all hipsters.

6. A kindergarten class

Oh shut up, this is theoretical. This would be a tough fight. One kindergartener by themselves is no big deal. The key here is stamina. How many could I mow through before I get worn out? 10? 15? The factor of if they attack as a group come into play as well. One after another wouldn’t be that difficult, but 23 all at once? Not as simple.  The fat one on the top left worries me, as does the one in red playing air guitar. The one in the bottom left looks like he found the teacher’s stash of pot brownies, making him a total non-factor. Chris Farley the teacher is not allowed to participate in the fight. I think this is a victory for me if I am given a golf club or a fire poker.

7.  The Baltimore Raven’s mascot

My deep seeded hate for the Ravens along with his lack of vision/maneuverability would lead me to victory. Fuck this bird.

8. This guy

I don’t really want to fight him as much as I’d like to ask him: where did his life go wrong? Where did he get that awesome absorbent cape? Where are his clothes? Would he like to know what a vagina feels like? Why does he have Leif Garret’s haircut in 2008? 

9. A horde of zombie chimps, kindergarteners, Stephen Hawking, Raven’s mascot, sharks, Jared Leto and SuperVirgin.

I’d get my ass kicked.

-RL

You Suck At Sports, Sacramento

I live in Sacramento. It fucking sucks, I rank it somewhere between getting uppercutted in the junk and watching a Friends marathon. Besides living in a perpetual craphole, as a Sacramentoion (or whatever the hell people are called here), there are a number of other shitty thing to deal with. The weather is nice, for about four months a year, the rest of the year it’s hotter than fuck (Fuck is an actual scientific term for temperatures over 100 degrees). Traffic is an absolute nightmare unless you commute to work at 4 am. The city is absolutely broke, Sacramento is like your friend who is always asking you to buy them lunch and they will “get you back later”. I am waiting for a Thunderdome to pop up at any minute, it sucks that much ass. 26 years ago, however, someone decided to give Sacramento a professional sports team, the Kings. Remember, this was the mid 80’s so there is a 90-98% chance that whoever made this decision was doing rails of coke the size of a baby’s arm.

 I moved to this wasteland with a 916 area code in 2002, and holy shit did these people love their Kings. Purple was plastered everywhere. Being a life long Laker fan, this disgusted me. However, I could not fault a community for embracing their team, especially since there isn’t much else to get excited about in an 80 mile radius. The Kings were one of the top teams in the NBA during this time. Over the next few years though, the team began to decline. People were jumping off the bandwagon like rich white people off the Titanic. Once people began to realize that championship dreams were becoming more and more unlikely, the love for the Kings dropped rapidly. People show more affection to prostitutes after sex. I’ll give credit to the true fans that hung around for the lean times, but a good percentage of the “fans” disappeared.

The fans that are left aren’t any better though. Ask anyone about the 2002-2003 playoff series against the Lakers and you will get a half hour tirade about how the Kings were robbed by the refs in addition to a greater conspiracy by the NBA to help the Lakers advance. I’m not denying that this didn’t happen, the evidence is there. I’ll even admit that the Lakers needed help from the refs to win that series, but last time I checked, the refs didn’t tip the rebound to Robert Horry for the game winning shot. So as a request to all Kings fans out there:

GET THE FUCK OVER IT.

Even if the conspiracy theory is true and the NBA decided it wanted the Lakers to advance. The fact of the matter is, it happened. It happened 8 damn years ago. It is the equivalent of “That Guy” that you will inevitably meet who will talk about how he was headed to the NFL or NBA but blew his knee out in high school. Sorry you didn’t make it, let’s focus on the present. I went to a Kings game last night and had to listen to the people next to me bitch about how the Lakers get special treatment from the refs. Blaming the refs is the cheapest cop-out in sports. Many times my teams have lost games where officials made a bad call. Unfortunately, it’s part of sports. Good teams can overcome bad officials. If the refs really did give the Lakers special treatment, why did they lose 5 straight right before coming to Sacramento? Because the NBA wanted to push bigger markets than Los Angeles, like Salt Lake City? With this rationale, the biggest market in the country, New York, should be dominating the NBA. Oh wait, they haven’t done anything of note since the late 90’s.

The Kings are not an NBA powerhouse, and probably never will be. There is not a lot of parity in the NBA (much more true for small market teams) unless you happen to draft one of those few players that becomes a superstar and a great head coach (see Antonio, San). In their 26 years in Sacramento, the Kings had 8 winning seasons, and those all came consecutively. They are a typical mediocre team that happened to put the right pieces together for a decent run. Sacramento fans don’t realize this. The Kings managed to over achieve for a while, and people began to expect that ever year. A team like the Milwaukee Bucks or Memphis Grizzlies would be happy to have that kind of run. True, the major teams like the Lakers, Celtics and Bulls will go through rebuilding phases, but they will always have the upper hand because of their geographical location. If you had the option, would you rather work in Sacramento or Miami? Memphis or LA?

Last night all people could talk about was the amazing support that the city had for the Kings. The arena sat half-full all season, then, on the last night of the season, people decided to show that they cared. It’s too little too late. I hope the Kings stay, but if they do leave I don’t blame them, the people of Sacramento abandoned them a long time ago.

Stop The Attention Whoring

I’ve noticed recently, that I know a lot of attention whores. People who talk just to talk, post Facebook updates just to see how many comments they can get, and define their self-worth based on the amount of friends they have. It’s annoying as fuck, and the blame lies upon two parties: MTV and social networking.

MTV debuted on August 1st, 1981, two years and eleven days before I made my debut from my mother’s womb. Music Television lived up to its name for its first few years in existence, showing little more than straight forward music videos. As the network matured, they began to produce more original programming, leading to The Real World to debut in 1992. The premise of the show was that  a group of “random” (See: hand chosen, Carefully) people were picked to live in a house together and their lives documented for a short amount of time. This marked one of the first times, not considering talk shows and game shows, that normal, everyday people and not actors were the stars of a show. However, it can be debated whether or not reality stars can be considered actors. It is widely known that a large amount of reality television is in fact some way scripted, and in addition to that, heavily edited to distort the truth and perception to achieve a desired effect. Although not scripted word for word in the traditional sense such as a sitcom or film, reality television is carefully manipulated to fit the needs of producers.  In addition, the people starring in shows such as The Real World are acting, even though they may not realize it. The addition of a video camera to one’s everyday life is guaranteed to have an effect. Behavior is greatly influenced when someone knows they are being watched, hence why the “Under Video Surveillance” signs hanging in store windows and red light cameras are effective. There is no way a producer can turn a camera on someone and tell them to “act natural”. Even if the person being filmed believes they are being natural, there is still going to be a part of them that is either subconsciously putting on a performance or restraining themselves because they know that the camera holds them accountable for their actions. Think about how you act when you are alone compared to when you are with close friends; it’s probably not that dramatic of a difference. Now compare that to a room full of dozens of strangers. Then take that difference and multiply it a million viewers and it’s easy to see how the gap between natural actions and performance grows exponentially.

In the beginning…

One of the defining characteristics of The Real World was that it brought together people from all walks of life. The individuals that made up the groups were as different as possible. There have been artsy, free-spirited hippies, closed-minded conservatives, gays, punks, pretty much any clique that could be thought of has been represented at one point or another. This again raises the question as to how genuine these people are.  If a person is already assumed to take on a different persona while in front of the cameras, knowing that they are a lone representative for “their kind of people” is only going to distance that gap between reality and performance. People identify themselves by the clothes they wear, the music they listen to, their favorite sports teams, the movies they like, etc. If you were tell a fourteen year old girl that Twilight sucks (It really does), she’s going to be upset because you not only insulted her favorite book, but a book by which she identifies with and is therefore a part of her. It’s the same reason people get assaulted for wearing an opposing teams jersey to sporting events. It’s not an insult to the home team, it’s a personal insult against the fans of that home team. People are going to try their hardest to defend what matters most to them, and in the case of  The Real World, their lifestyle. These people knew that they were chosen because they represented a certain social scene, belief set, ect. and it was up to them to bring validation/awareness/acceptance to that certain sect. From a dramatic standpoint, this tactic worked well. It not only showcased the natural disagreements that different-minded people would have, it also showed that a diverse group could get along and form a cohesive unit. It was (I haven’t seen the show in the past 10 years or so because I’m not retarded, so I can’t comment on its current state) a metaphor for the World in general. An eclectic mix of people who are forced, for better or worse, to occupy a single space.

The basis for The Real World, a novel and original concept nineteen years ago, has become commonplace in today’s television market. MTV planted the seeds for reality TV, which has only become more and more prevalent. It gave birth to the idea that “anyone can be a star”. Since the dawn of modern entertainment, the theory held that only attractive and/or extremely talented people could make a living in entertainment. Modern reality TV has changed that notion. People can now become television stars for being pregnant, getting married, being a truck driver, the list is nearly endless. With the flood of “everyday” and “average” people taking up screen time, more and more people start to believe that they themselves could be a star too.

Look what the fuck you all created.

 Just this week, a guy who owns a pawn shop got four million viewers. Four million, or almost the population of Los Angeles. America is a country that is obsessed with celebrity (See: People, Us, InTouch magazines, TMZ.com, Entertainment Tonight, Access Hollywood, Extra, etc.), and “regular” people believe that they can reach some level of fame. With the rise of the internet, the path to celebrity is not necessarily becoming easier, but is offering more avenues for self promotion and distribution. Which brings us to:

Social Media

Social media websites such as Facebook and Twitter, along with countless others that have not reached as high of level of popularity as the aforementioned “Big Two” or have fizzled out, are among the most visited sites on the internet. Facebook the 2nd most visited site on the internet, has over 600 million members, Twitter is approaching 200 million. Both allow for blatant self promotion, and they could not have come along at a better time.

Along with the term “celebrity” becoming more and more loosely defined and thrown around without regard, an inflated sense of self-importance has become more and more prevalent in the online communities. Many people now broadcast details of their daily lives, assuming that people will care because such a high percentage of our entertainment consists of following people through their everyday lives. Just because (for some inexplicable reason) millions watch a Kardashian or a Real Housewife of Wherever go shopping, people believe that their social media contacts are going to care about them going shopping. Too many people assume that everyone wants to know that they just did laundry. Guess what? No one gives a fuck. I’m sorry to say that just because you have an audience, it doesn’t make your life any more exciting or important. It’s unfortunate enough that a majority of today’s celebrities are only famous for being famous, or because they are willing to prostitute themselves out to keep their barely flickering flame of relevance from burning out. We now have a generation of people who measure their importance and self-worth in friends and followers.

Pictured above: Someone who recieved zero comments on their latest post.

One of the features that draws people into social networking sites is the ability to display yourself; your interests, likes & dislikes, photos, etc. You can learn a lot about someone by looking at their Facebook page for just a few minutes. However, much like reality television, the content of someone’s profile is very filtered. To be more accurate, you can learn a lot about what someone wants you to know about them. People want to appear impressive by nature. If you sort through a friend’s profile pictures on Facebook, odds are you aren’t going to find a bad picture of that person. Likewise, people are going to post pictures and status updates of themselves at parties, out having fun, etc. It’s a whole “Look at me!” attitude in which they try to convince the World and, more often than not, themselves, that their life is better than it actually is. It’s an insecurity that they believe they can overcome with validation through attention. This leads to an almost stigma, where if you aren’t out doing all those things and having all that fun, you aren’t as good as everyone else. Perhaps this is one of the reasons that at any given time, about 5% of all teenagers are clinically depressed, with about 70% having at least one episode before adulthood. They are bombarded with fictitious lifestyles, all the while comparing those to their own real life. In the end, fantasy is always going to be more enticing than reality. It’s the same principle as airbrushed models being the standard of beauty in our society. It’s an unrealistic expectation that people will strive for, even though it’s impossible to obtain.

I’m not trying to condemn people who use Facebook and Twitter, or even star and produce reality television. I just believe that ultimately, people need to be more aware of the information they consume (except for this blog, I’d never lie to you). Our society is becoming more and more insecure and looking for attention to fill a void. Until we, as a society, get our values and priorities in order, we’ll just have to put up with the constant attention whoring. Oh, by the way…

Follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/lynchlovesyou

Add me as a friend on Facebook: http://facebook.com/iheartchaos

Myspace: http://myspace.com/rlynch83

LinkdIn:http://www.linkedin.com/pub/ryan-lynch/21/a9a/39

-RL

People I Fucking Hate

By nature, I’m kind of a total asshole and find most people annoying. It’s nothing really in particular, just some people are more annoying than others. This post may set a new record for cuss words. I already had to go in and re-save all the pictures I downloaded as a different format, so I’m in a bad mood already. These are the people who I would like to punch in the face while wearing cactus gloves.

Tyler Perry

(Presented by Tyler Perry, starring Tyler Perry, about Tyler Perry, written by Ryan Lynch)

I’ve never seen a Tyler Perry movie/TV show/Stage production/whatever the fuck else he does. They could be brilliant and entertaining, but judging from previews and commercials I have seen, they look like they would make my IQ drop a few (dozen) points. So no, I refuse to watch that crap. You can’t even watch a preview to one of his movies without hearing “Tyler Perry” 68 god damn times.

Nancy Grace

For those of you lucky enough not to have seen the “Nancy Grace” show, let me fill you in. Nancy picks a topic, usually a kidnapped child, and talks about it for an hour. This is all well and fine. However, true journalism is supposed to be devoid of opinion, hence the reason newspapers have a separate section called the “Opinion” section. See how that works? Nancy’s show (on the Cable News Network) consists of her finding someone to be angry at, and berating them for the duration of the program. It’s basically like living with one of my exes for sixty minutes an evening. I understand that people who commit crimes are, in my opinion: monsters, assholes, degenerates, etc. In America though, we have a little thing called “due process” where people are presumed innocent until proven guilty in a fair trial decided upon by their peers. It’s fine to form your own opinions, and if police find a man with his wife’s body hacked up and in the fridge while he’s holding a knife and covered in blood, the burden of proof is still on the courts. This is where Ms. Grace ultimately fails as a journalist.  The day a story like this hypothetical one breaks, she’ll label the man a vicious monster, etc, and while we may hold the same opinion, we are not claiming to be reporters. Nancy Grace hates America.  

Paul Hewson

Or Bono. A douche by any other name still deserves a cactus glove punch. This guy is a self-serving prick. I understand that he is charitable and involved in causes, and that’s awesome. I believe, however, that he is doing it in order to boost his own public persona. People who really care about a cause focus on helping that cause, not the photo-op that it provides. I’m sure there are many people, famous and not, that have given much more time and money than Bono, but they get satisfaction from just helping, not being recognized for helping. I’m not saying that Bono isn’t passionate or that he doesn’t care about the multiple causes that he decides to support, but if there were a cause that didn’t offer him an oppertunity to get in the news, I seriously doubt he would get involved. I would like to start a cause to save the world from his shitty music. Get involved in that telethon, Fuckface.

Afghan Dogs

They are just weird. I don’t like them. One bit.

 

Lance Armstrong

Is Ryan really going to talk shit about a cancer survivor? Fuck and Yes, I am. I don’t hate him for beating cancer, it’s a terrible disease and I’m glad he overcame it. I do have a problem with him being a fucking cheater though. You won like seven Tour De Frances? In a row? Good for you, lets see you do it without being jacked up on roids. His stupid bracelets should say “Livestronger (through the use of Steroids)”. Fuck him and his whole wholesome facade. Don’t encourage people to live a  healthy lifestyle while doing illegal drugs. This would be like Lindsay Lohan encouraging people to make good decisions, it should be taken with a grain of salt. Ok, a whole salt shaker. I’m also sick of the yellow bracelets. It’s nothing more than a symbol for people to show off and make themselves feel better about themselves. Just like the “I Voted” stickers, it’s just one more thing people in our self-centered society can point at and claim how much better they are than others.

 

Hipsters

 I’ve discussed these fucking degenerates before, so I’ll try to paraphrase. The whole hipster culture is based on being original and fighting against the mainstream. The problem with this, however, is that they all dress similar, listen to similar music, have similar ideas, etc. In order to fit in with this crowd, one must adopt and conform to the given standards of the group. While this might have been acceptable when it was a small group, the hipster infestation has gone mainstream, and they are no different from the groups of people that they put down for being “conformists”.  It’s the same principle as the angst-ridden teen that shops at Hot Topic to show how different and original they are. They are still supporting a profit based, carefully developed image, faceless corporation, unlike those losers who shop at GAP and American Eagle.

Celine Dion

The be all, end all to my hate. I would rather be raped by a pack of herpes infested wolves with a fancy for cuddling and discussing feelings after sex. My days are a little darker knowing that Celine walks the Earth. I’m starting to feel physically ill thinking about her. Fuck it, I’m done.

Things That Terrify The Fuck Out Of Me

Everyone has something that totally terrifies them. Many times, it is because of a traumatic incident in their past that conjures up bad memories and feeling associated with the particular fear. Attacked by a dolphin as a child? I don’t blame you for not going to SeaWorld.  Other times it is a complete irrational fear for no apparent reason. I fall into the latter category. My life has been mostly trauma free, but there is still shit that scares the hell out of me. I don’t know why, it just does. Fear is caused mostly by the unknown, but I know enough to understand that these things are totally fucked up.

Clowns: Fuck clowns in their fucking painted faces. I cannot put into words the absolute terror I feel when I see a clown. Think of the time in your life when you were scared the most, multiply that by ten while being chased by a lunatic with an ax. That’s about the level of fear. I don’t know who the idiot was that decided clowns were supposed to be funny and entertain children. It’s like someone deciding that rabid coyotes would make good pets. Even if I see one on TV I start getting nervous, and by “nervous” I mean run out of the room cussing uncontrollably.

I was at some school sponsored party thing my senior year in high school. It was one of those stupid things where they locked us in a community center overnight, you know, one of those things that doesn’t sound like the premise for a slasher film at all. Everything was, of course, boring as shit. Carnival games and raffles is definitely not how this author rolls. Contemplating ways to commit suicide with a Dixie cup full of Sierra Mist and a taquito, the unthinkable happened (well, unthinkable had you started reading at the beginning of this sentence). Not one, but two god damn clowns walk in. Who books clowns to entertain a couple hundred high school seniors? I see these painted devils and make a run for the door. LOCKED (duh). I broke horror movie rule #1 and separated myself from the group and went to hang out in the clown-free lobby area. So far, so good. That is until the previously mentioned Sierra Mist was ready to come out. Wandering around this strange building, I finally found a restroom. Guess what was inside? Yep, the two goddamn clowns. They weren’t even peeing, washing their hands, checking their make-up in the mirror or anything like that. They were standing facing a wall, then did the fucking dramatic slow turn when I walked in and just looked at me without saying a word. That is not normal behavior and this is really what freaked me the fuck out. Had they been chatting it up like normal humans or something I would have been slightly less terrified. But no, these fuckers were waiting for me and I was actually more shocked that they didn’t pull out axes or chainsaws. Needless to say, I got the hell out of there. This was not going to be the night I got murdered (or raped) by clowns. I spent the rest of the night in hiding.

The funny thing is, “scary” clowns aren’t that scary to me. I could watch “It” no problem. It’s the ones that are supposed to be normal, kid birthday party clowns that I can’t stand. I hope they become extinct.

Albinos: I understand that this is very mean and ignorant of me. They are normal people, except they look creepy as fuck. Like an Easter egg when you take it out of the dye too soon, it just doesn’t look right. And for some reason, I think being an albino would be painful, not like the whole “can’t go in the sun” thing, but they just look fragile to me. Like tripping on the sidewalk would require reconstructive surgery and rehab. Just weird overall; stay away from me, Redeyes.

Moths: The Devil’s butterflies. Fuck these dusty little fucks. They also have to be the least coordinated of all the beasts in the animal kingdom. A swarm of moths is like a DUI destruction derby. If you walk near a moth, there is a 94% chance that it will fly into your head. I don’t know if they really are retarded, or just do that to fuck with people.

That thing up there looks like Falcor fucked a grasshopper and gave birth to that. Think about that picture next time you see moths flying around your porch lamp.

Losing a limb: This one has two aspects to it. First: not having a limb. I could imagine that this would totally suck, I’m the type of person who gets annoyed when my arm or leg falls asleep. I would have to rearrange my life and learn how to do things all over again. I don’t think I’d be able to get dressed. Being the lazy person that I am, this sounds like way too much work. Smoke & drink at the same time? Not for you, Stumpy! Fucking terrifying. Second: The social aspect. I’d forever be known as Ryan, the dude with one arm/leg. There’s more to me than that.

Fortune teller booths: These things:

Fuck’em. I don’t like them. I imagine that one is going to look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m going to die or something. I don’t really come in contact with fortune teller booths all that often, but when I do, I avoid them. I didn’t watch “Big” until I was well into my 20’s.

-RL

A Brief History of Modern America

99% of this is inaccurate and random things I made up. It’s more entertaining for me if I do it that way.

1900’s: This was a very important time in American history. Americans were like, “That whole cowboy/wild west thing was fun, but it’s time to grow up”. First order of business, invent the car. People had been riding horses everywhere for centuries, but they generally smelled bad, and had to be shot if they fell down. Horses are probably the pussiest of all the animals. So Henry Ford made the first car. It was slow as shit and didn’t even have a sweet spoiler or anything, but at least you didn’t have to shoot it. This was also a time for many other discoveries. Much to the chagrin of candle makers, electricity was starting to get popular. This led the PG&E brothers to go into business, selling electricity for mad profit.

1910’s: This is when America got involved in WWI. WWI started because an Arch Duke was assassinated in Austria or one of those small European countries where they make Extacy. They could have just done a nice tribute song for him or put him on a coin, but FUCK and NO, the Austrians were ready to throw down. They declared war on Bulgaria or someone and started fighting. Kind of like how the LA riots in ’92 started with a couple of people turning over cars then escalated, all of Europe decided to get in on the war. The French were shooting the British and the Germans were curbstomping the Italians. Fucking madness. America caught wind of these shenanigans and decided to go over there and put a stop to this European Battle Royal. So Roosevelt sent over the army, and pretty soon Europe was back to normal, except fewer people.

1920’s: The 1920’s brought about lots of listening to the radio and prohibition. The government decided they wanted to be total dicks, and outlawed alcohol in America. LAME. Naturally, this pissed a lot of people off and caused a lot of BevMo’s to go out of business. People were generally upset with this, and started to make their own liquor in bathtubs and other household appliances. If movies have taught me anything, it’s that people in the 20’s loved to go to nightclubs to enjoy their newly illegal booze. I can’t get into some clubs if I wear a hat, these people had to wear tuxedos and dresses with a fuckload of shiny tassels and dance like a penguin having a seizure. Doesn’t sound fun. The 20’s sucked and I’m glad I didn’t live during this time.

1930’s: The Great Depression. The economy was all kinds of kick ass during the 20’s then one day it all went downhill. About 80% of the population became hobos and moved to the midwest, where it was just a bunch of dust. This was one of the main reason people were depressed, they had to trade in their shiny tassel dresses and start farming. This is also the time when gangsters and drive-bys were coming into fashion, which is awesome.

1940’s: WWII. Hitler got all pissed at the Jews and decided to start killing them all. Pretty much like what happened in WWI, all the European countries started fighting again. Again, America had to be the parent and go break shit up. We sent Tom Hanks and Matt Damon over there and shit was going pretty well until Japan decided to be a total cocksucker.

Seeing that America was pre-occupied by fighting over in Europe, Japan bombed Ben Affleck and the rest of the people in Pearl Harbor. This got Truman all pissed, so he took half the US army and sent them over to various places in the Pacific Ocean to kick some ass. YOU DON’T FUCK WITH AFFLECK. It was this area that America won Iwo Jima and raised a flag. This wasn’t enough for Truman, however. Truman was the kind of guy who would put a whole bottle of lighter fluid on the BBQ, just because it looked cool when he lit it. He made the call on his special Bat-Phone and had a nuclear bomb dropped on Japan. Fucked their shit up hard. Have you seen how weird Japan is today? It’s because all of the radiation we dropped on them 70 years ago. We are friends now because they have all the best cars and TV’s. The one positive that came of all this was the invention of the kamikaze shot, which is delicious. America won 1st place in the war.

1950’s: The 50’s were probably pretty awesome, granted you weren’t a woman or a minority. This is when TV became popular, even though 75% of all programming was I Love Lucy.  All the cars had giant fins on them, which I guess is pretty bad ass.

1960’s: Hippies! The 1950’s were a very clean and proper time in America, and apparently people got fed up with that shit. They stopped bathing and grooming, and most went to live in fields or other nature-like facilities. Most of their days consisted of drugs, protesting and listening to Crosby, Stills and Nash. A good majority of them were pretty pissed about Vietnam, which produced more crazy homeless people in wheelchairs than all other wars combined. Whoever invented the peace sign got very wealthy during this time off all those royalties. Also, America became the first country to make it to the moon. This made some people mad and they assassinated JFK because of it. 

1970’s: Kind of like the 60’s but things were in color now. The 70’s will always be awesome because of the invention of disco. Clothing styles also hit their creative peaks in the 70’s, levels of such greatness shall never be reached again.

1980’s: Pretty much everything produced in the 80’s was kick ass. Ask anyone their favorite movie, song, or TV show and it probably came along in the 80’s. More serious things happened though. Reagan didn’t really like the Russians, because they killed Apollo Creed. For most of the decade we just pointed our missiles at each other and threatened one another. Kind of like the dude at the bar who will talk shit but refuses to fight. This was actually a good thing though, because a fight would have pretty much ended the world and deprived us of such classics as The Goonies and ET. And Pontiac Firebirds.

1990’s: Too much shit happened to list and I’m tired of writing. Basically, if Kurt Loder popped up on your TV with a breaking news update, shit was about to go down.

-RL

More Random Pictures From My Phone

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words. Well, you aren’t going to get that here, I have other shit to do. A couple hundred words will sufice. I like to think of myself as a great photographer, kind of like an Anne Geddes with less babies and stupid costumes. It’s been almost 8 months since my last “Random Pictures From My Phone”, and since then I have accumulated even more shitty pictures to share with you all.

#1

At first glance, this appears to be a dead dude wrapped in a sleeping bag. Oh no no no, it’s much more than that. This is a picture of me losing a bet, although I wouldn’t really consider myself the loser in all of this. A little background- this picture was taken in July. In Sacramento. Where the temperature ranges from 100 degrees to “Holy shit, my shoes just melted to the pavement!”. It’s unbearable, I’d rather fist a beehive. For some reason or another, I bet the roomie that he couldn’t sit outside wrapped in a sleeping bag for 10 minutes, and if he did, he won a beer. One of my favorite things to do is come up with totally outlandish shit for him to do, just to see if he’ll do it (He failed the 3 beers in under a minute bet, that led to glorious puke). He agreed and sat in the sun, wrapped in a sleeping bag for ten minutes. I have never seen so much sweat in my life.  I would have said no. Sitting wrapped in a sleeping bag in that weather sounds worse than being raped by Satan, and not really worth a $3.00 beer. In the end though, he got his beer, and almost heat stroke.

#2

My last picture of 2010. In retrospect, this picture looks pretty fucking gay. I didn’t even know that someone took this for me until like 3 days later. I was at a New Years party and someone bumped into me, spilling my drink all over me. Fucking heathen. That’s the worst kind of drink spillage. If you spill the drink on yourself without being bumped, you can laugh it off because you are the moron and totally deserve what you get. If someone spills their drink on you, they are the total moron and you can place blame accordingly. Not tonight. Someone came bounding through the crowd, more excited than Tiger at a “Slutty White Chick” convention. Call me Sandra Bullock, I was blindsided. The above photo is me drying off with a fabulous pink blow dryer, although I’m sure a blow dryer held 4 feet away isn’t doing much. I was wet for a while.

#3

This is what my mom’s dog does when I tell it to Tupac.

#4 I became a Muslim (or Aunt Jemima in a mumu) for about 4 hours. It started with me wrapping my scarf around my head because, hey why not? Deciding that this was funny, I upped the racism by cutting some holes in sheet to make a robe. It was a fitted sheet so it didn’t fit all that well, kinda bunchy at the bottom. Sidenote- is there anything more difficult than folding a fitted sheet? Holy fuck. Every time I think I have it figured out a corner falls out and I have to start over. I swear these things like morph their shape mid-fold. Fuck fitted sheets. Now I just roll them into a ball. The only thing I could think that matches the difficulty of folding a fitted sheet would be putting on wet socks. I’d have an easier time solving a Rubik’s Cube with my teeth. End sidenote. I downloaded the Quran onto my iPod and listened to that while referring to my roommate as “Dirty American”  and “Racist Fuck” if he told me to knock it off. I would like to also point out that 99% of Muslims aren’t terrorists (Don’t behead me, plz). In the end I decided to give it up. The fitted sheet robe and scarf around the head wasn’t a good look for me, and I got tired of texting O.M.A. I think it’s important to experience other cultures.

#5

If I were Jesus, I’d turn water into this. Besides, You can just store it for a while and get wine. That may or may not be a bottle of piss behind it.

#6

I like this picture because it pretty much sums up what an idiot I am. I woke up the next morning wondering why I had a cup of water with sticks in them sitting on my living room floor. Turns out they were sparklers. That I lit off inside my apartment. Then put them in my mouth. The Southern Comfort shirt only drives this point home. I like that the roomate is in the background, oblivious to this behavior. Also, I have a huge fucking head.

-RL

My Life Isn’t Boring Sometimes

99% of my life is boring as fuck. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind it being like that one bit. I would totally panic if I woke up one day and had to live the day like Jason Bourne. A four-year old tossed into general pop at San Quentin would last longer. I’m content with my daily routine, no matter how mundane it may seem. However, on occasion (usually with the aid of alcohol), interesting things do happen. These are all true, unfortunately.

– I was chased by a giant lesbian outside of a Lyons restaurant at 3 am. OK, so not technically chased, as I was in my car, but she was pulling some safari-gone-wrong type shit. I was pulling out of the Lyons parking lot as the car containing Lesbipotmus was pulling in. And by pulling in I mean going full on Vin-Deisel-would-have-shat-himself-powerslide inches from my beloved ’95 Maxima. Someone in my car yelled something, profane I assume, that they took offense to. I thought the whole ordeal was done and over with when I looked in my mirror. Have you ever watched an episode of My Name Is Earl? Imagine Earl’s brother/cousin/friend (Whatever he is. I’ve seen like 2 episodes and don’t feel like putting in the effort to research the info), with frosted spiked hair, pukah shells running a 4.2 40 in FUCKING BIRKENSTOCKS. The Raiders would be winning games if they signed her up as a defensive end. Terrifying. Shit was going in slow motion. Seeing as how I wouldn’t hit a girl, even though she was the love child of Chris Farley and Usain Bolt, dead set on power-slamming a Nissan as well as myself. I decided to get the hell out of there. Burnout, into traffic and home free. We went to Denny’s instead.

– I hung out with a crack dealer for about an hour. I didn’t know he was a crack dealer at first though. I had taken one of my friends to donate blood, and for some reason they wouldn’t let me sit in the waiting room. Fucking nazis. I had some time to kill so I started chatting it up with some random guy hanging out in front of the building too. Things were cool until he saw a cop car down the street and threw a baggie into the grass. By now I knew that something wasn’t normal. Once the cops left he asked me to help him look for his baggie, and not wanting to be a dick/get stabbed, I started walking around looking at the ground, giving a half-assed effort. He found his magic rocks and proceeded to tell me about how he used to sell crack in New York. I’d like to apologize to the DEA for my part in this little event.

-I’ve been kicked out of an adult bookstore for being too drunk. I don’t remember this so it doesn’t count.

-I got special treatment at work because I told everyone that I was in the Big Brother/Little Brother program. I was a terrible person.

– I almost fucking died once. This is not a repeat of https://liveandletry.wordpress.com/ryan-almost-fucking-dies. That was a somewhat harmless incident of too much lighter fluid and not enough common sense. This however really was the closest I’ve come to death (not counting the time I watched the Notebook and someone had happened to leave a bottle of sleeping pills nearby). I was driving home late one night, I forget from where. That’s not important. Anyways, It was like 2 am and I’m in a good state of mind, not all Lohan-ed out or anything. The freeway to get to my house  apartment is 2 lanes on each side, curves a lot, and separated by a bunch of trees and nature-y shit. I could see headlights coming around the corner in the opposite direction through the foliage. Everything was cool until HOLY FUCK HE’S GOING THE WRONG WAY! IN MY LANE! At this point I figure I have like four or five seconds to live. Instead of asking for salvation, my life flashing before my eyes and all that shit, I thought of one thing in this brief moment of despair. All the times I had been walking towards someone in a hallway and we both take a step to the same side, then the other way, until someone says “Fuck it” and presses up against the wall and lets the other pass. I can’t even get down a hallway without making contact with someone, I was totally fucked in this situation. I wish I could say that I did something awesome to avoid contact, like did a 360 while narrowly avoiding impact, but i didn’t. I put on my blinker and got over to the other lane. They flew past to God knows where (probably a fiery crash a few miles down).  Almost dying sucks.

-I’ve been written up at work for the following:

Throwing my chair into a wall

Going on the roof

Telling my boss to get back to work

Leaving a picture of Bert & Ernie on someone’s desk (I know, right?!)

-The infamous Winco 500. Fucking legendary. Some friends & I were on the 1:45 post bar mad dash to get more beer. The first gas station we go to must be run by Mormans because they have the beer locked already. Across the street to Winco we go. If supermarkets were a large family, Winco would be the retarded cousin that you are forced to play with just to be polite, even though it smells like piss and play-dough. For some reason that I still do not quite understand, Carrie & Serena decide to leave Joe & I outside while they go in. Oh they are the aforementioned “friends”, I suck at character introduction. Joe & I notice a couple of people riding around on the store’s motorized scooters. I decided that I needed to get in on this, fucking pronto. I walk up to the first person I see and say, “I wanna drive”. The girl driving got up and walked away without saying a word! Well that was easy. After taking some laps around a Honda, the other guy who was riding a scooter decides he wants to race. I got this. We set up our starting line and Joe signals for us to go.

Just like this, except with scooters instead of hot rods, Joe instead of a woman, and located in a grocery store parking lot.

We crept off the starting line. I swear I could have crawled faster than this thing. It was so damn slow I started feeling awkward, like should I try to make conversation with my new friend inching along next to me? Fuck it, I had a race to win. I pulled out to an early lead, just as we passed the shopping cart corral. All of a sudden, this shithead accuses me of using NOS! Are you fucking serious?! I’m going about 1/8 of a mile per hour. If I had NOS I would have hit about two or three miles an hour. What a dick. I ended up winning. There are only a few fuzzy pictures to prove that the Winco 500 actually took place. It lives on as a legend in the far away land of Citrus Heights.

-RL

Drunken Children Stories.

I’ve been drinking, so in a social experiment, I’m going to translate a fairy tale (beer count: 1 40 & 4 cans). Spelling erros and such will be left untouched.

The 3 littel pigs

by Ryan Lynch

PREFACE- My name gets bolded and underlined because I decided.  Ok, on to the story. I’m doing this as a pulbic service to all my friends with children so you can print this out and read it as a bed time story and as a cautionary tale as to not how to live your life. The 3 Little Pigs was the first thing that came to mind and I think I know the comlete story, as comapred to Snow White or Cinderlea. On with the stroy.

Once on a time ther e were 3 little pigs that may or may not have been brothers. It’s already bugging the shit out of me to not go back and fix the typos. But fuck it, Warhol painted Cambells cans, I don’t fix typos., all in the name of art. ANYWAYS- there were 3 pigs that were little, and they all live in the same hood. Not surte if they were really little, that type of thing is relative. Shit, I’m little compared to a Buick. So these p[igs (not cops) lived in their little pig village or whatever pigs live in. I’m not sure what pigs do for a paycheck, so don’t ask me how they paid rent or their utlitys. I saw a pig at the fair one time that played soccer. Name was Super Pork and he was a PIMP. Bent it like Beckam. These 3 pigs were living life and chilling when one day they learned that there was a wolf (I pronounce it “Woof” so that’s how I’m typing it from now on). This woof was kind of a dick and enjoyed blowing pigs houses down.

All this time the pigs were all, “I got 99 problems but a woof ain’t 1”. They didn’t even give a fuck about wolfs. I like to imagine that they were just kickin it one day doing pig shit (soccer!) and some other animal that lives near pigs like a duck or something was like, “Pigs, there is a woof coming to fuck your shit up”. The pigs were like,

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?!” You crazy duck (or whatever animal).

They decided that woof tang clan aint nothing to fuck with. They decided to remodel their cribs to make them safer. This was a generally dope idea except that the pigs had diffrent degress of laziness. One pig was like, “Let’s do this” and one was all “Meh”. The Middle pig was like in the middle, got it? The woof was pretty hungery. Why, do you ask? When was the last time you saw a Woof in Dennys or IHOP or a classy establismnt like that? They dont serve wild animals and they have to scavenger for their food. Like homless people but furrier and sharper teeth. Brotha was HON-GRY.  So anyways the pigs were like “Shit, we need new woof proof cribs that can withstand his huffing and puffing.”.

The first little pig was a total shit who was the fuck that was all good at everything. When the othert pigs were like “Good enough” he was the one who went above and beyond. Got like a 4.1 in high school and helped oold pigs across the street. He was all, “I’m going to make a brick house”. Not to be confused with the classic Commodores song of the same name which I totally love. This pig buildt his house sturdy and not meant to be blown down. We’ll discuss this later.

The second of the swine decided to build his house out of sticks I think. I don’t know for sure, but if dude really build his home from sticks, he shouldnt get that much more flack that the one that biult his home out of hay. A stick is just a more thicker hay.  Fuck this guy. I decided.

The thrid pig built his house out of hay. He was probably from the midweast. They have alot of hay there. Obviously none of these pigs never heard of stucco or even Frank Lloyd Wright, who made some dope-ass houses. I would also recommend that they get some insurance or maybe even an alarm system. When I had an alarm system, guess how many woofs broke into my home?

Answer: 0.

An undetermined amount of time passes and the woof comes tp town and is all, “Want some pig dinner”. I don’t blame the dude. (1 40 & 5 cans at this point). Instead of Applebys he decides to go blowing at random homes. Strange, I know, but this is how the stroy goes. So woof dude goes to the hay pig home first, and is like ” I’ll huff puff and blow your house in”. And you know what, dude did. Pig was like, “:WHAAAAAAAAAT?!” Destroyed his shit. Obliverated his residential. But due to circumstances unforseen, the pig got away.

The woof went to the next house which was made out of sticks. SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING? He huffed and puffed and fuck that house up too. This woof obviously doesnt smoke. He may be  an X-Men. Again the 2 pigs get away and go to their other pig friends houwse, who must be the most tolerant pig of all time to put up with these idiots. YA’LL COULD HAVE GOTTEN A TIME SHARE!

Woof comes to the last house and can’t blow it down. If I me a woman who could blow down a brick house I WOULD MARRY THAT SHIT. No joke. I actually forget what happens. I think the woof dies trying to blow down the housre, which qualifies as the dumbest death ever. Jesus, if I was that hungry, I would go to 7-11 and get a taquito.  Maybe woofs cant just buy food, but they look pretty vicious like they could just go kill whatever they wanted. I mean, fuck, people throw away alot of food, I’m sure you can find something in a dumpster. Bums do it all the time. I’m pretty sure that’s the end of the story. The Lazy pigs end up living too which is bullshit.  The woof dies.

THE END>

That is all for tonight. I expect book reports on this shit.

-RL

Ryan’s Bored.

-I had a mouse in my apartment. I bought some poison that said “POISON: Do not eat” with a skull and cross bones and everything. I had to keep the box hidden, just in case I had a litterate mouse.

-If you ever have to go shopping for a ski mask and duct tape, I recommend you make your purchases at seperate stores. Not worth the looks the cashier gives you.

-If Top Ramen is a staple of your diet, you have failed somewhere in life.

-I always wonder, if I were to lose my voice, how would I call in sick to work? Would I just show up with a note then go back home?

-I like to think of merry-go-rounds as very redundant tours of the park. Unless you have Alzheimers. Then you wonder how the hell you are going to get back to where you were.

-The only people who perform spoken-word poetry are those that don’t have enough friends to start a band.

-It must be really difficult to be colorblind and in a gang.

-I don’t take cold medication just in case I need to operate heavy machinery that day.

“Hey Ryan, want to drive this forklift?”

“Damn, I just took an Advil”

-I’m glad the speedometer in my car also lists kilometers per hour, just in case I make a wrong turn and end up in Europe.

-Whenever I see a stupid or blatant warning label on something, I realize they put it there because someone has done it.

-My “Boomerang Grenande” invention didn’t go over too well.

-My neighbors complain about my constant drinking and smoking outside. It sucks to live next to a preschool.

-The zoo would be a lot more exciting if it weren’t for all those damn cages.

-I’m not an alcoholic, I am just constantly thirsty and happen to find barstools very comfy.

-When someone calls my phone and says they must have the wrong number, I wonder if maybe it was me that’s had the wrong number all this time.

-I’d like to try the new restaurant that just opened near my house, but I have reservations.

-I bet the people who play the criminals in the America’s Most Wanted re-enactments get the cops called on them a lot.

-When you think about it, almost every product could have one of those “As Seen on TV” labels on it. It shouldn’t just be limited to infomercial products.

-Why don’t people who are concerned with “saving the trees” have any problem with beavers, termites or woodpeckers?