Quit what you hate.

There are way too many people working at jobs that they hate. So many places you go you will be greeted by people who look as though they're on detention.

"Five o'clock? Why do I have to stay so long? Did I do something wrong?"

Quit!

We all have a thresh hold at a job we work that if passed, we should quit. Some people though, reach that thresh hold, then just put up with the job for countless years after. If you've thought about killing someone, quit that job. That's the limit. Not, 
"Oh, I'll quit this when I get something better." 
Nope. When you think of hitting an old woman with a car because she can't figure out which cookie to buy, time to pack it in. That should be asked at jobs.

"Hey, do you like it here?"

"Yeah, I like it."

"Yeah...you ever think about taking a Big Mac and pinging it off a kids head?"

"No! Of course not. I mean, why would I...yeah. You got me! I have. There's just so many kids! Crying 'where's Ronald? Where's Ronald?' Shut up, kid!"

"That's what I thought. Pack it up. We've liked you working here, but you're done. Run free, sir."

I've worked at jobs and had these thoughts. I worked at Starbucks for three years of my life. I joked with customers, sang. Sang! Had a great time! Near the end though, I couldn't stand it. Every time the door would open and a customer would walk in, I would be furious.

"God, what could you possibly want right now! Coffee? There's coffee everywhere! Get out of here!"

It got so bad, that I had a thoughts of taking a coffee urn, hurling it through the air towards the wall of mugs as hot coffee would rain down on customers waiting for drinks.

"Oh, god! The coffee I was waiting for is now falling from the sky! It burns when it's not in a cup! IT BURNS WHEN IT'S NOT IN A CUP!"

Right then I knew I had to get out of there. But I didn't quit then! I stayed for probably another five months. Five miserable months. Hated it everyday. The thoughts just kept coming.

"What if I put a grenade in the urn before I threw it? What if I could only make it blow people up who asked for a certain temperature for their drink? 'Can you make it the same temperature as a golf club that's been laying on Augusta?' BOOM!

There are tons of people that are angry at their job but continue to stay. Too many waitresses who are pissed that people come in, THEN pissed that the people she didn't want there in the first place didn't tip her well! 
"God, why didn't you guys tip me?"
"Are you serious? You audibly said to that other girl, 'if this table of people burst into flames right now it would make my day'." 
"Yah. And?"
Look, we get it, you hate your job. We've all had jobs we hate, but since we all know this, why do we take it out on each other?

"Can I have a sandwich?"

"Jesus man, give me a second."

"Why are you angry?"

"My boss sucks. I was supposed to have a break twenty minutes ago."

"Okay, so why not be mad at him? I didn't do anything to you."

"...you're right! Get your own sandwich. I'm going to punch him in the face...with a sandwich!"

One problem that people have with their job, is it's not the job they think they should have. Most believe they are better than their minimum pay job. Makes sense. We don't live in a "just enough" society. There are no songs in the club about making thirty thousand a year.

"Just made thirty grand, this fiscal year! Gonna hit the bar, and grab one beer! Yeah, I gotta car. It ain't got gas in it. Next weekend I'm going to a concert. Two-For-One tickets.""

No one wants to make thirty thousand dollars a year! And nobody thinks they should.

"What? I'm a baller though! How am I supposed to buy a bottle of Moet, pour it over the hood of my Ferrari while I'm driving with the top down, as Russian ass models are shaking in the passenger seat on a measly thirty thousand dollars a year? Huh? How!"

"I'm not sure. How are you supposed to clean the counter at this Arby's while you stand in here telling me tales about your Ferrari?"

"Counter cleaning my bag, man. I'm a baller!"

"Ball on your own time!"

People who really hate their job tend to think that everyone but the people they know are stupid beyond repair.

"Give me a shot, man. Dealt with a bunch of losers today."

"Rough day at the office?"

"Damn right. Everyone is an idiot. Not you, or anyone else I hang out with. But the other seven billion people? Just idiots, man."

"I hear you. I have six friends I love, therefore they are intelligent, but everyone else? Total dummy! Like this jerk over here. 'Can I get a beer'? What a piece of garbage."

"You said it, man. You said it."

We all need to understand that where we are is where we are. Of course we look to the future to have things to aim for. We should! To achieve the dreams that we want. But, don't be miserable on the journey. If you hate it, just quit! Quit! Make it the best quit ever! I worked at a Call Center for awhile (I've had some jobs), and I hated it! Every day, all day, hated it. It was a call center for a cellphone company, so people called to pay bills, scream about bills, and tell me they were going to blow someone up. I worked there five days a week, and I would call in sick four of the five days. Everyone that worked there just complained about the calls they would get during the day. Depressing is not even the word for it.

"This guy called and said this, he sai..."

"He said this?!"

"Well, there was more to the story but you cut me off."

"That's crazy! I had a customer that called me today, that said blah, blah, blah, I've really beaten my inner child and the happiness that I was going to have in this life time to death by working here, blah blah blah. Can you believe that I used to feel?"

I couldn't stand this place. So, one day, myself and a friend of mine decided to quit. The call center had Christmas lights all around the building. When they were red, it meant it was busy and calls would be non stop. Yellow meant you might have a bit of a break between calls, and green meant it was slow. My friend and I decided that we were going to hang up on people and see if we could make the light go from red to green. I hung up on probably four hundred people. That light didn't change at all! When I did take calls it was only to mess with people.

"I'd like to check my minutes."

"Check your minutes? What are you talking about? I'm at home with my wife!"

"...does your wife have any idea how many minutes I've used?"
"She better not!"

I transferred people to Spanish care just because! Spanish care was for anyone who spoke Spanish. Were the people I sent to Spanish care people who spoke Spanish? Absolutely not.

"Can I check my minutes?"

"Yep. I'll just transfer you to the minutes department."

"...¿Hola, cómo puedo yo ayudarle?

"What the hell?!"

I'd hang up and laugh for ten minutes. I tried to walk out mid way through the day, but they made me do an exiting interview on why I was leaving. The man doing it had to write down everything I said.

"Why are you leaving?"
"Because this place takes souls. It is Shang Tsung."
"...Okay. What would make you come back here?"
"If you guys bulldozed it, and made it into a McDonald’s."
"...come on, man. I have to write these down."
"Yep. Write that one in all caps."
Then myself and my friend left, walked in the rain eating frozen pizza pockets and went to see Friday Night Lights. Great day.


"But, I need money to live! I need this job, I can't quit. I need money!"
Yeah, we all need money. We also all need to not have dark, twisted hearts from doing things we hate to enjoy the things that we do. If you do something you hate to do for eighty percent of your time, that twenty percent of things you do like will suffer. We've all met people who hate everything because they aren't happy with their job.
"Wow, this sunset is gorgeous."
"Psssh, yeah. I guess. If you like the color orange. Personally? It lasts too long. And EVERYday?"


No job is worth being unhappy. None, not one. None.
"But I make eighty thousand dollars a day!"
"Are you happy when you're there?"
"...well, I think about running down school children in an old bus I fashioned an assault rifle to from time to time, but other than that, yeah. EIGHTY THOUSAND DOLLARS! A day!"
"Yeah, but you want to kill kids!"
"No, not all the time. Just forty five hours a week, nine to six, five times a week. That's it. There's tons of hours in a week! EIGHTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!"

There are no more men on the planet.

No males in my generation want to be men. Why do I say this? I met an extractor. His quote?

"Have you seen the movie Taken? That's what I do."

That is a man. He goes to foreign countries to retrieve people who have been kidnapped. Not only does he go, but he comes back. Comes back! That's a man. When he's not doing that, he's a bodyguard for Saudi princes and people like Ralph Lauren. And before all of this? He was a New York City drug cop in the eighties.

Boom. Full man. He's been a man for decades! 

I could have talked to that guy for hours. Talk to men of this generation?

"Oh, I'm a web developer."

"I work in advertising."

"I re-tweet things for companies."

That last one is a job? Unbelievable. Men of older generations wanted to make an honest living. Men now want to make money by making statements in 140 characters – by making videos or taping a friend getting hit in the nuts with a voiceover of what the pole says.

"Whoops, that guy’s nuts are coming down on my head. One of us is gonna feel this! Won't be me, I'm made of metal!"

Even if men do want to be a cop, or join the army, it's never for the good reasons that people used to do it for. 

"The money is good!"

"Having a gun would be sweet!"

"I saw it in a video game!"

No men want to get dirty anymore. Everyone wants to look perfect and smell good.

"Change that tire? Didn't Steve Jobs create something to do that before he died? He didn't? Well, then that's what I'll focus on. Re-animating Steve Jobs so he can make that thing. Does my iPhone re-animate?"

Men created electricity, light bulbs, and the telephone. Men of this generation?

"Hey! I made an app that allows me to tell other people where I am! Pretty sweet, huh? You check in, you win things. I'm the mayor of your house! I just raised the tax! Get out of your house!"

I'm guilty of not being a man. Am I a man? No. I write, say funny things, and take on no real responsibility so I can continue to do so. Is that going to help me if I'm lost in the woods? Is that going to scare off a bear?

"Oh, man. A bear! Hey, hey, you like funny situations?"

"ROAR!"

"Wooo, tough crowd."

Being a man doesn't just mean doing "manly" things. Chopping wood, building Chevy trucks with your bare hands, all while drunk on whiskey and hollering at women. No. What being a man does mean, though, is taking on some sort of responsibility. Being accountable for something. No men of my generation want that anymore. No one wants kids. No one wants a job that pays anything less than what a basketball player makes. No one wants to have any commitments that could stop him from watching Breaking Bad.

"Mom’s funeral? God, did she have to die today? She knew I was doing a Breaking Bad marathon!"

Mark Zuckerberg, for example. Arguably, the leader of my generation. Multi-billionaire, website designer, Facebook creator. Man? Absolutely not. Let's look at what he really created. He created something that brings us all together, right? No! Mark Zuckerberg created a site that allows men to look at women's beach photos, allows people to never really break up because you can always find out what the other person is up to, and a site that now just throws around pictures with "funny" captions. Would a man create this? Would a man create something that takes up all your time and annoys you? No! Had a man been around when this was being made, it would be different.

"There! Done. Just added the "Poke" button."

"Uh huh. Where is the "Work" button?"

"There is no work button! Facebook is meant to take a break."

"You know what a good break is... work! Add a work button, then get to work!"

Men who take on responsibility are really needed in this world. I believe most men can attest to this. Date a girl who had a good relationship with her dad. For the most part, she is a very well adjusted person.

Date a girl who doesn't have a good relationship with her dad? Wow. Most times? A complete train wreck that relationship will be.

"Who just called you?! WHO JUST CALLED YOU?!"

"It was my cousin."

"That slut cousin Susan?"

"She's family!"

"She wants to sleep with you! I know she does! Oh, god. Why do you like to do this to me?"

"What the hell is going on? Why are you crying?"

"Fuck you! Just fuck you! I love you – that's why! Please don't leave... get the fuck out of here!"

There was a generation of men that did stick around and help raise families. Then for some reason, a generation of men who just split! Not all, but a ton! And those guys made it hard to be a man, because they messed up so much, and to such a high degree, that they raised the bar to a point that even if you are a good man, no one cares at all. A single mom can say, "I have a job and I raise my baby on my own." The world goes, "She's a warrior." A man? "I have a job and I raise my baby on my own." "Yeah? While you're whining right now, who’s taking care of your kid? Suck it up and go to hell."

If the pioneers had known that they were finding new land and building on it so that one day men could see how many head shots they could rack up online, they would have stopped.

"What? I'm gonna cut down these trees while I have scurvy so that one day a thirty two year old man can talk to a thirteen year old through a headset and be called a loser? I don't think so. I'm going to lay down and die right here."

Greyhound.

Sometimes I have to travel, and sometimes, the easiest way to get there is the bus. Is it the worst way? Yes. As soon as I get off, every time I say, "Never again will I do that to myself. Never again." Then I go talk to a therapist about how the trip ruined me mentally.
"I thought it would be pleasant, ya know? I thought it would just be me sitting down being taking somewhere. I mean, how bad could it be? HOW BAD COULD IT BE?! OH, GOD!"


The worst job in the world has got to be Greyhound bus driver. Unless your second job is ditch digging, there’s nothing worse than that.

"Goodbye, honey! I'm driving from nine to five today, then pulling over and digging a hole for nine hours. See you later! I know these are both terrible jobs, but someone has to do them! I really hope I fall into the hole I've dug! Bye!"

A Greyhound bus breaks down just about every time I've ever taken one. The only person who benefits from this is the driver, since – his job just broke down. His job! Think about how awesome that is! 

"Listen, I'd love to work, but we just lost power. What do you mean, “Am I serious?” I'm driving a Greyhound bus! You don't think these break down?"

Greyhound doesn't have the same security system as other travel options do. People who we wouldn't let on a plane? Greyhound takes them. There is always some animal on the bus who has probably choked two women at the same time with one hand. It's almost a prerequisite. If he's not there, that bus ain’t moving.

"Where the hell is the guy who society forgot? All right, we're waiting, guys."

"Ah, come on! Let's move this thing."

"Hey, hey. Take it up with him, all right? I don't make the Greyhound rules. A demon from hell does and I don't think you want to talk to him."

When you are on a Greyhound, sometimes there is more than one of these guys on the bus and it feels as though you stepped onto the bus that takes criminals to prison.

"What's up, fresh fish? What are you going away for?"

"...Umm, I have a wedding to get to and this is the cheapest way?"

"Ha! Hear you, man. I didn't do anything either. I'm innocent, too. I'm innocent, all right! I'M INNOCENT!"

"Umm, we're not going to prison."

"Want to make a break for it, huh? I like you! WE'RE NOT GOING TO PRISON!" 

How can we have phones that do everything – everything! But the bus is still a vehicle that is as comfortable as a hot rock in Calcutta? The only time the bus was comfortable was when the title 'blacksmith' was given to people. And that was at a time when people rode horses! Animals! Of course a bus was more comfortable than that.

"This is great! I just sit here and I get to where I'm going! I don't have to kick the sides of the bus or feed it. Nothing! Thank you, advancement."

Greyhound’s customer service is hilarious. You don't want to call, but sometimes you think, "My trip was supposed to be six hours, and it took two and a half weeks. I should call someone about this."

"Hey, I had a trip that was six hours late. Anything that can be done about this?"

"Did you finally get to your destination?"

"...Well, yes."

"Then the trip was completed. Thanks for calling Greyhound."

"But it was six hours late?!"

"Do you know what you took? GREYHOUND. It's a bus from the past. Understand?"

"...Yes, sir."

There are no short trips on Greyhound either. Even if there should be. Even if you have a trip that is a straight line, right down a highway, straight shot – they will go the longest way possible and stop at gas stations, chicken coops, and mail boxes.

"Your trip today should only be an hour. It’s too bad for seventeen hours we will not even head in the right direction. Nope, we have to go down to the Atlantic Ocean, pick up one lone fisherman who has decided to change career paths, stop at every gas station and gift shop along the way – there and back – then maybe have you where you need to be."

Greyhound has ads that say, "Get To Know America Better." Yeah, you don't know this America. Have you seen it from a comfortable seat in a car? Or maybe walking around being able to stretch and stop whenever you want? That's not how you do it! Scrunch yourself into a dirty 1970's polyester seat beside someone else who’s thinking, "Wow, I've made a lot of mistakes." That's how you get to know America.

Greyhound shouldn't be able to charge you more than ten dollars for a trip. Should be illegal.

"This trip is going to be a hundred dollars."

"Oh, cool! The TVs work on this one, I'm guessing?"

"No."

"Oh... well, the seats are more comfortable?"

"Less."

"...Okay. Then I'll have two seats to myself?"

"You won't even have one to yourself."

"Well, then what do I get?"

"...A story?"

Baking Up Justice

"It never gets easier."

"What, Joe? Killing the enemy?"

Joe reaches the chopper, steps one foot inside, turns to face a fellow soldier. He slowly takes his aviators off.

"No, doing the right thing."

Joe hops on the helicopter. His body glistens in the sun, the way one would expect a trout that meets Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing would. He is shirtless, wearing a bandana, with a look on his face that says he's been here before.

"Let's do it again. For our women. For our fellow soldiers."

"For America?"

Joe gets a distant look in his eye.

"...That goes without saying. But I'm glad you said it."

The chopper flies over a thick jungle. Joe is standing in the doorframe. He is holding an American flag and eating a slice of apple pie.

"Where'd you get that pie, Joe?"

"I made it myself – out of 3 bullets, a hunting knife, an enemy’s boot strap, and the memories of fallen friends."

"Oh... any good?"

"...It could use some sugar."

"Quite the cook, huh Joe?"

"My sweetie back home runs a bakery. I watch her sometimes when I'm thinking of ways to kill."

Joe takes a look towards the ground. 

"Take her down."

"What?! Here, Joe? I can't land here! We'll be shot at!"

Joe grabs the pilot, spins him around, and looks him right in the eye.

"Getting shot at is what I came over here for. That – and to see the look in your eye when I do this."

Joe picks the pilot up and throws him outside of the chopper.

"I never should have questioned America! God bless you, Joooooeeeee!"

Joe grabs the controls and sends the helicopter into a nosedive. As the ground gets closer and closer, a small smirk appears on Joe's face. He is finishing the last of the apple pie.

The ground is getting closer and the helicopter is heading straight for a small schoolhouse.

"Hmmm. ‘School for the Blind’. They're not even gonna see it coming."

Joe wipes his mouth with his American flag and then dives out of the helicopter. The helicopter slams into the school, blowing it to pieces. The school’s teacher and students were on their way in.

"Oh, dear God! Students! I'm happy you can't see this."

"Why, Mrs. Doubletree? What was that loud bang?"

"Ahh... it was math. Math saying, "learn me!"

"And the feeling of fire?"

"That's the tardy dragon saying we're late. Now open those books!"

Joe is swooping towards the earth as if he is an eagle about to pluck a fish out of a lake. He is holding the American flag in his hands by the pole. 

"Nobody said it was gonna be easy, but it sure will be fun."

Joe hits the ground and instantly throws the American flag and pole through three men – impaling them against a tree. As they die, they each give a thumbs up as the American Flag waves in them. 

Joe ducks behind a barrel and peers around it. He sees a man walking with a donkey dragging a cart and a store where a few men and women are standing out front talking.

"Taking a break, huh guys? Well, you're about to get Joe Horsepower-ed... that's killed!"

Joe jumps out from behind the barrel. He runs toward the man with the donkey cart and kicks him in the chest.

"Don't bother getting up. That was a Horsepower kick. Your insides are mush."

Joe takes a grenade off of his belt, pulls the pin, puts it inside the donkey’s mouth and picks him up.

"EEEE AHHHH! EEEE AHHHH!"

"You're about to be Mule-tilated!"

Joe throws the mule towards the men and women in front of the store.

"EEEE AHHHHHHHHH!" BOOM! The people are thrown about. Just then, Joe's General comes running out of the store with his gun drawn.

"Jesus Christ! What the hell is going on out here?! Joe! JOE! What the hell are you doing?"

"Sir, what am I doing? I'm spreading freedom across this war torn land."

"You dumb son of a bitch! This is neutral land! There's no fighting going on here! You just killed innocent people! Couldn't you tell – by the fact that nobody had a gun? Or that a damn donkey was in the middle of the road instead of a jeep or artillery truck?!"

"...Sir, with all due respect, I thought the donkey was a jeep. A jeep – with an elaborate donkey cover."

"GOD DAMMIT IT. JOE! THAT'S IT! You are out of here! You are discharged! Dis-honorably discharged! DIS-HONORABLY, DIS-HONORABLY DISCHARGED!"

"...Is that the most dis-honorable way to discharge?"

"YES! God damn it, yes! I'm making sure you go to anger management as well before you are let back on the American taxpayer! Get on that helicopter!"

A helicopter lands behind Joe. He turns around and walks towards the helicopter. As he gets on, he turns to look at his General. The General is saluting with his middle finger.

"All right, everyone. Welcome to Anger Management."

Joe is sitting in a semi-circle of chairs. There is a table with a coffee maker and muffins against the wall. Around Joe are other soldiers. The anger management coach sits in front of them.

"Now, you are all here because you cannot control your anger. Let's go around the room and share the incident that got you here. Colonel Smith?"

"...All right. I was doing my laundry and a dryer ate my sock. That sock... that beloved sock... was one half of a pair my daughter made for me in her sewing class. They never fit right and they were purple, but that's not the point. I loved that sock!"

"I understand. And what did you do?"

"I rigged the dryer with C-4 and I blew it up! How was I to know that it was enough C-4 to take out an entire floor? Huh?! HOW WAS I TO KNOW!"

"Shhh. Breathe, Colonel Smith. Count backwards from one million, six hundred and forty seven thousand, three hundred and forty one."

"ONE MILLION, SIX HUNDRED AND FORTY SEVEN THOUSAND, THREE HUNDRED AND FORTY ONE! One million, six hundred and forty seven thousand, three hundred and forty. One million, six hun..."

"Joe Horsepower, would you like to share?"

Joe looks up from his hands. He has "freedom" and "Chevy" tattooed on his palms.

"Yeah, I'll tell you. I'm here because I love my country too much. I'm here because I love eagles, baseball, and monster trucks! I'm here because other countries are WRONG!"

Joe stands up, pumping his fist in the air.

"...I see. Are you also here because you threw a pilot out of a helicopter, blew up a school for blind children, impaled three men with a flagpole, dropkicked another man turning his insides to pudding, and force fed a donkey a grenade before throwing it at a group of civilians?"

Joe lowers his arm.

"...No contest."

The Rocky Movies

In my opinion, the Rocky franchise is the greatest movie franchise there is. I even like Rocky V, but I can say that now because there is a sixth. When Rocky V was the final one? Not the best way to end a series.

"Dad! I'm getting beat up at school!"

"Oh, that's great! What's that behind your ear? A quarter!"

Knowing the story alone is enough to love Rocky. Stallone had no money at all. He sold his wife's jewelry to keep the heat on because he didn't want to get a job and take away from his acting career. She left him (which makes sense) and it was just him and his dog. He saw the Chuck Wepner/Muhammad Ali fight (which the first Rocky is based on) and went home and wrote the script in twenty-eight hours. He tried to sell it and people wouldn't buy it if he wanted to star in it. He was offered two hundred and fifty thousand dollars NOT to star in it, and he refused. Then he was offered thirty thousand for it and they agreed to take a chance on him starring in it – and it won best picture of '77... that alone! THAT ALONE! Huge. Just huge. Not too many other movies have that back-story.

"I didn't really like You Don't Mess with the Zohan."

"Yeah, but did you know that Adam Sandler made a whole lot of great movies before that one?"

"...Yeah. That's why I didn't like it."

As a series, people put Indiana Jones, Back to the Future, and Star Wars up against the Rocky movies. Better than Rocky?! Let's take a look.

Indiana Jones – Very cool story. Very cool man. Has a whip and a gun. He traveled to exotic lands. Is this a better franchise than Rocky? No way. Why? Rocky would win in a fight every time.

"Welcome everyone to the Fight of the Century! Rocky Balboa, the Italian Stallion, vs. Colonel Henry Walton "Indiana" Jones, Jr., Ph.D., an archaeology professor. Strange attire to box in – a hat and leather jacket – but we'll see what he can do."

DING!

"And there's the opening bell! Rocky starts to the center of the ring and OH MY GOD! Indiana pulls out a whip and is instantly disqualified! I can't believe it! Rocky wins due to disqualification!"

In Indiana Jones time, if Rocky had been the boulder that chased Indiana in Raiders of the Lost Ark, he would have got him. Or if Rocky had been the man who gets shot in that scene by Indiana, the bullet would have been absorbed by Rocky’s never-give-up-attitude.

BOOM!

"How are you still alive?!"

"Well, ya know, Mick used to say, “'Don't let no bullet, throw in your towel', so I just, ya know, don’t."

Back to the Future – great series of movies. I like all of them. I love the second one. If Rocky had been in these movies? Biff’s 1985 never would have happened.

"Oh, no! Biff took the sports almanac back in time to his younger self!"

"Hey... yo... just point me in the direction of this Biff guy, and ya know, I'll straighten him out, like."

"We can't! The flux capacitor needs 1.21 gigawatts!"

"Yo... I don't know about a giga-what's-it, but I'm gonna run up this here mountain, yell Biff’s name so loud he'll hear it, and if he's, ya know, any kinda man, he'll get in the ring."

Star Wars – now people may think, "There's no way Rocky could beat someone who has a lightsaber. Lightsabers cut through doors!" Well, lightsabers never had to cut through something as hard as Rocky's abs. Rocky III and IV? He pooled all of the abs in the world. Other men at that time didn't even have stomachs because Stallone took them all – the way Shang Tsung takes souls. He looked like a shark in boxing trunks. Any woman who had sex with Stallone at that point in time also had her soul washed on his abs. If he had sex with an eighty-year-old woman, it would have ironed the wrinkles out of her. 

"Oh my, this is insane! I feel younger!"

"Yo... you are. These abs turn back time. Your spirit-ality."

A lightsaber? It would have snapped in half had it met those abs!

"What?! Just this morning I cut an AT-ST in half! How did it break on your abs?!"

"Yo, I've been training with Apollo. He's real good, you should, ya know, meet him."

Another great thing about the series is that none of the actors change! Over thirty years! Adrian is Talia Shire the entire time. Paulie is Burt Young! For thirty years!? If they did change, it would have been with famous people. Do you know how terrible Rocky VI would have been with Tracy Morgan as Paulie?

"Yo, Paulie, what happened to your eye?"

"My eye? I still look handsome, I look good. I'm the ooh child. Somebody gonna get pregnant."

Some people were angry about Rocky VI coming out. Rocky VI is great for too many reasons. For one, it's loosely based off of actual events! It's the story of George Foreman. To sum it up quickly, George Foreman fought Muhammad Ali in the Rumble in the Jungle. George was younger and stronger, so the odds were in his favor. George lost, and went through a ridiculous depression for the next ten years. Ten years! When he went back into boxing, he was in his forties. People laughed at him. Nobody thought a man in his forties could beat people in their twenties. But when he was forty-five, he won back the heavyweight title! Forty-five! Won it! That's incredible, and that is what Stallone based Rocky VI on.  

I've met a lot of women who don't understand the Rocky movies. "Why do men like them so much? Because he punches people?" The Rocky movies are to men, what movies like Dirty Dancing and The Notebook are to women. Women watch those to live out a fantasy, we do the same. Only difference, our fantasy could beat the hell out of your fantasy. Also, those movies rev you up for challenges. If you were running a marathon, you wouldn't watch "Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked" to get motivated.

"I've got thirty five miles to run tomorrow. Come on Chipmunks! Be cute!"

When I meet a man who doesn't like the Rocky movies, I assume he has no ambition or drive at all.

"I didn't like the Rocky movies at all. So stupid. All right, guys, if you'll excuse me, I have a big day planned. I have to re-tin foil my windows as I'll be in the house all weekend hot boxing...woo, that took the wind out of me. Can someone carry me to the door?"

The soundtracks are enough to make you want to do something with your life. Do other soundtracks have that? Star Wars’ soundtrack is great, Jurassic Park’s is amazing, but does either one of those make you want to finish that deck you started last February? Nope. The Rocky soundtrack would make you tear down your house just to build a better one.

"What are you doing?!"

"I'm tearing this ol’ house down and building a house with a tennis court! Yo Adrian, I'm doing it!"

"Who the hell is Adrian? And you don't have to tear down the whole house to add a ten..."

"YOOOOO!"

Also, Stallone wrote ALL of the Rocky movies and directed four of them! Do you know how incredible that is for a series? Did Michael J. Fox write Back to the Future? Did Harrison Ford put the whip down and get behind a camera? Nope. They just had the one job. Act.

"Stallone, we need you to stand here. Oh, look at that, I'm talking to myself. Also, we need a re-write. Yep, that's me as well. What the hell are you other guys doing here!? Get out of here Carl Weathers! I'm gonna Eddie Murphy this whole thing."

I think Sylvester Stallone has brought enough to this planet. Rocky was enough, but then he did five more. Sylvester Stallone should be exempt from worrying about global warming. He has done his part.

"Umm, you can't just dump that gasoline in the sewer, Mr. Stallone."

"Oh, yeah… well I wrote a series of movies that inspired you to get out of bed this morning to fight for this planet."

"...Umm, yeah. I guess you're right! Can I have your autograph? You can sign it in gasoline."

The Rocky movies have inspired people for generations, and will continue to do so. When a man gets any kind of success in his life because a DeLorean went back in time, I'll change my mind. Remember guys, Rocky stopped the Cold War and brought down the Iron Curtain with his bare hands! Okay, Rocky IV is a little over the top – Boom! Stallone pun in a sentence about Rocky IV! – but it is entertaining.

Hipsters.

People seem to really despise hipsters. People hate them. People who aren't hipsters, that is. Hipsters seem to hate hipsters even more!

"Damn, dirty hipsters and their dress shoes from the twenties. God, I hate them. Hey, can you pass me my old camera that looks like I found it at the bottom of the ocean? Thanks."

Hipsters love vintage this, vintage that.

"I don't want NEW clothes. Are you insane? A cute little old man might not have died in my oversized cardigan if it were NEW? Wow."

Hipsters, though, are the FIRST people in line for new iPhones.

"My God, I can't wait to get the new iPhone!"

"Neither can I! Hey, have you seen the new Mission: Impossible?"

"Ugh, no! New movies have too much CGI. They haven't made a good movie since the sixties. As soon as I get this phone I'm going to tweet about what an idiot you are for watching new movies. Right after I download an app to see where I can still get old Beatles records."

Most hipsters don't seem to be comfortable. Most seem on edge. They're waiting to yell at someone. Most hipsters don't have a look on their face that says, "I'm comfortable with what I'm wearing." Most hipsters have a look of, "I dare you to ask about this ripped t-shirt with a random black guys face on it. Do it! I'm ready to explode!"

"Hey, I really like your glasses."

"Oh, yeah? You do? THEY'RE FAKE, ALL RIGHT? Are you happy now?! Why can't I just wear what I want? Why can't I be my own person?"

"...I just said I liked them."

"YOU'VE SAID ENOUGH!"

It seems that a lot of people dress like hipsters just because they don't know what else to do. Remember the guys in 2003 who wore FUBU jerseys who really didn't look like they should be wearing them because they didn't know what else to wear? If you knew me in 2003, you do.

"Nathan, you gonna get that large FUBU jersey, cuz?"

"Large! What am I? A girl? Extra large! Let's make this happen, awkwardness!"

Hipster fashion has taken over. If you're not dressing like a hipster right now, there are not too many other choices. You've got the small town guy who wears Affliction t-shirts and Fox Racing jackets.

"Get yer dam CCM twig outta my face, Darryl, before I have ta drive my Ford F150 to yer mom’s and just give er."

You can wear a suit all the time. 

"Get your damn CCM hockey stick out of my face, Darryl, before I have to take the bus to your mom’s and love her."

Just about everyone is dressing like a hipster. Even rappers now are dressing like hipsters! A few years ago, there was no way rappers would have worn tight things. There are no more 'rapper'-looking rappers.

"Whoa, that guy’s a rapper? He looks like he should be skipping an eighth grade math class."

"You're dressed exactly like him."

"What! How did this happen?!"

It's funny when certain types of people come around to "be different". Goths, emos, hipsters. When everyone tries to be different, everyone ends up being the same.

"I'm not like everyone else! Their wool hats are orange. Mine is blue! Clear difference."

Who isn't a hipster right now? You can't throw Kings of Leon's first CD without hitting a hipster on a bike made during the era of the Titanic.

"Ow! Oh, nice! This was before they became mainstream. God, what is this – a compact disc? It's vinyl or nothing with me. Can you throw a cassette of this at me at least?"

A lot of hipsters don't like mainstream music, movies or culture. And that's fine, but there is no reason to act as if you are better than people when they don't know what you are talking about.

"Have you heard of The Hamster Carts?"

"No, I haven't. What kind of mus..."

"Of course you haven't! They only put out one song then destroyed their instruments."

"...then why did you ask me i..."

"I've turned my suspenders towards you, sir! Good day!"

Hipster neighborhoods are INSANELY gross. It's not hip to clean your surroundings? All of their neighborhoods look like the decks of pirate ships in the fourteenth century.

"Do any garbage men come through this part of town? If that pile of trash gets any bigger, you could put nine rooms in it. Oh, wait. There's one."

"He's not a garbage man. He's my friend, Wolf. He likes to dress like a city worker."

Hipster bars in these neighborhoods seem to not want you in them.

"Can I get a rum and Coke?"

"Yeah, I guess. It's coming in a mason jar."

"Cool. Sometimes I like to act as if I'm on a plantation in the twenties. Is there anywhere to sit?"

"Ugh, we don't have chairs. Everyone sits down. Stand outside."

Hipsters themselves sometimes don't really keep themselves any different than their neighborhoods. Hipster girls’ hands and feet are dirty as truck drivers. It's like they've been moving rocks down at the quarry all day, barefoot. 

Every hipster girl has a bird foot as well. A tattoo of a bird on their foot. Bird foot! BIRD FOOT! How did you all decide to get the exact same tattoo, in the exact same place?

"Hey, hey. We're all gonna dress and talk the same way anyway. Why don’t we all get bird feet? It'll be hilarious!"

"Then we will at least be less awkward with each other!"

"Slow down, all right! One thing at a time. Ow! How did we bump heads? You're way over there!"

There's no way that hipster girls are trying to have sex with anyone. Doesn't make any sense. Hipster girls act like every eight-year-old boy from the nineties.

"I love Super Nintendo! Fresh Prince of Bel-Air was a little over the top at points, but I love it! I couldn't be any more awkward if I had been raised underground!"

The only guy that could be attracted to a girl who acts the way he did in grade eight, is a pedophile.

"Hmm. You act and kinda look like the little boys that I'm into, but you're legal? My lucky day!"

Not everyone is good. This is fact.

People always say, "Find the good in everyone." Sounds amazing! Sounds as if there is good in everyone to find! But in reality, there just isn't. Period. Still, though, "Find the good in everyone!" People who say that should be karate-kicked.

"Oh, god! You... knocked the.... wind out of.... me. But... you're probably a... good guy."

It started in school. Teachers would say that to students when a bully would push them around.

"Look, he just likes lunch money and punching you in the face. But if somehow you can look beyond your bloody nose and see through those black eyes, maybe you'll find that he actually has some good in him."

Find the good in him?! Well, where to start!? He has some good punches in him. I'm not a boxing coach, I don't care about that!

"Hey, look, bully. If you drop your shoulder you could knock me out in half the time."

"Shut up, loser!"

"You're right. Who am I? Please, though, not my face. I have a crush on Jessica and we walk home toge... I wish I wouldn't have said that."

Parents, guidance counselors, Oprah. Everyone says "find the good in everyone". In everyone? Why do I have to listen to some racist idiot rant for an hour about how terrible black people are, only to find out that he is good at the spoons?

"Man, I didn't agree with his views on black people, but the spoons?! Geez, he plays the hell out of those! I've never teared up over cutlery before, but wow! I'll never eat cereal the same way again."

When people say, "Find the good in everyone," it sounds as though even when someone rubs you the wrong way, you are supposed to stand there and go,

"All right. This person has spit on me while talking, they stand too close, and they smell awful, but god. I'm sure they'll stop talking about Jersey Shore and say something interesting any day now."

What I should say is that not everyone is good for you. Everyone is good for someone. People even liked Jeffery Dahmer. They wouldn't tell you now, but they did. "Ol’ J.D. Dahmer Dog? Nope, never trusted him." Even that racist, spoon-playing man would have friends. But they are other racists.

"Hey, do you think tonight at the rally you could play the spoons? Of course, after we burn their church. If I hear even one spoon before that, I'll snap!"

It's supposed to be taken as, "We are all the same." Yes, this is true. We are all the same. We all want to be happy, have friends, and enjoy what we do with our lives. The thing is, though, some people don't do anything good to get those things. Some people will stab GOOD PEOPLE in the back to get those things. So what is to be said then?

"Man, you lied to my girlfriend so that you could get with her. Wow. How could you do that?! I suppose, though, we are the same. Well, I'm single now and you have my girl, but other than that we are the same. I see the good in you. God, I'm sad. And you're not. But you have the ability to get sad, so you're good."

People say "find the good in everyone" because they are scared to not like people. That's all that it is. We have been taught now that you shouldn't not like people. Just ridiculous. Ellen has almost made it so that saying, "I really don't like that person," is a federal crime.

"Man, I don't like that guy."

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP! UP! LAY FACE DOWN ON THE GROUND!"

"What did I do?"

"You don't know, perp? You broke one of the Ellen laws, everyone must be liked! Now make love to that sidewalk, dis-liker! MAKE LOVE TO IT!"

I like just about everyone. I love meeting new people. I do not, though, like everyone. There are some people I don't want to talk to, don't want to hang out with, and I'm sure there are some who feel that way about me. I don't base my feelings towards anyone on the first few minutes of meeting them, but I will say, ANYONE who tells me they read Perez Hilton? There's no time for these people to me. You've made it impossible to find the good.

"Okay, Mr. Macintosh, you were in a really nasty accident. Your arm was broken in three places, but we'll have it set in a minute."

"Ugh... thanks."

"No problem, it's my job. Just like it's Perez Hilton’s job to make fun of talented people. He kills me! You ever check out his website? ...Wait, you can't just leave! We haven't finished!"

"I'll fix my own arm! Goodbye, Dr. Like-a-Hilton!"

"Wait, you can't! Your arm is... ya know, that really isn't a clever name. "Doctor Like-a-Hilton? Perez could do better than that."

"AAHAHHAHAGHGH!"

Also, there's not enough time to find the good in everyone! Does anyone who says that know how long that would take? To find the good in everyone all the time?

"Excuse me. You just walked through a door I was holding open and didn't say thank you."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, so I'm wondering if we can go to lunch so I can try to see some good in you?"

"Go to hell!"

"Okay, now we're looking at dinner too. We'll start tonight?"

The good in some people is when they walk away. Girls at clubs are good at understanding this.

"Hey, I'm a little drunk right now and don't know what to say to you, but I'm a good person and would like to talk to you."

"What? You'd like to talk to me? What's that code for? Cut my head off and put it in a duffel bag?! GET AWAY FROM ME CREEP!... Huh, he walks away fast. That's good."