My Bucket List

Dear friends, 

For ages now, my loved ones have been urging me to break my 20 year streak and schedule myself a physical, but I don’t see the point. Given my poor eating habits, history of drug use and fondness for the taste of battery acid, I already know I am not long for this word. Rather than waste the precious little time I have left in a waiting room, I have decided instead to make a list of things I want to do before my undoubtedly premature death. Without any further ado, I give you my bucket list. 

1. Find Love:  I’ve never found love in my life before and it’s partly because, deep down, I’ve never really felt like I deserve it. This is mostly because I’m actually a terrible, vindictive person, and it is because I am such a sadistic person that I’ve decided if I’m going to have to deal with the tragedy of my own mortality, I’m taking someone else down with me. I’m going to assume the identity of Miguel Goodlay, wealthy super-spy by day, sweet talking, pastry chef by night. As Miguel, I will seduce a lonely dowager that I meet in a bar. I will sweep her off her feet and after three dates I will propose. I will teach her that the world is a beautiful place, and she will love me. On the night of the wedding, I will ingest the groom on the top of the cake, which I will have secretly laced with cyanide during the best man speech. I will slip away into a painless death, and my unsuspecting wife will be left spending her life feeling my pain. 

2. Help Children in Need: There are so many children out there who are orphaned and hungry, and before I leave this world I want to do my part help the problem. I briefly contemplated donating my money to these kids to buy them food and shelter, but then I decided that’s not enough. There’s an old saying: Give a man to fish, he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, he’ll eat for the rest of his life. With this in mind, I have decided to devote my time to teaching kids how to not only survive, but actually thrive against diversity. Ihave devoted the past few months to collecting any orphan I could find, and organizing them into a ragtag group of cockney pickpockets. I intend to teach them in the ways of the street I myself learned from repeat readings of the book Oliver Twist. When I’m done with them, they will be able to sustain themselves thanks to the timeless lessons that book imparts. Lessons such as: How to steal a pocket watch without getting caught, how to use gin as an anesthetic, and, of course, how to properly fear jews. I will also teach them some choreographed, musical numbers and make them preform for me, because that’s just adorable. Also for good measure, I’ll probably teach them how to fish... 

3. Get My Dream Job: See #2

4. Find God: I’ve never been a religious man, though I have often watched with jealousy as other find strength in God. In truth, I have not made up my mind on whether or not He even exists yet, but if He does exist, that means one thing for sure: He’s to blame for my death. As such, I have hence forth devoted my life to tracking down and destroying God. I’ve been tracking chatter for months now, and in doing so, I have narrowed his location to one of two places: He’s either hiding in the heart of a child, or in the mountains outside of Pakistan. I have ordered a tactical airstrike against both locations set for sometime in the near future. We’ll get this sadistic Bastard yet. (I’m supposed to capitalize “Bastard” when I’m talking about God, right?) 

5. Become Friends with Morgan Freeman: This one is probably cheating because clearly I stole it from that move. You know...The Shawshank Redemption... Stolen or not though, it still makes my list because, let’s face it, Mr. Freeman is pure class. I want our friendship to play out in much the same way as the movie. Mainly, I want it to happen in prison. This will not only assure that me and MoFree have the strongest possible bond, but also let me play out all my prison fantasies that would have otherwise made up the bulk of my bucket list.

6. Swim with a Dolphin: I don’t have much to say about this. It just looks like fun. 

7. Become Immortal: This one just seems like a no brainer. If I learned anything from making this list it’s this: I don’t want to fucking die. As such, I’ve decided to transform myself into some sort of eternal, super-being, untethered by the laws of nature. I’m not really sure how I’m gonna this yet, and since I only have a short time left, I’m gonna go figure it out....Toodles

My First Rap Feud, Chapter 1: Drawing First Blood

         I have to admit that I’m a bit disappointed. I’ve been at this blog thing for three days now, and I’m still not a household name. I’ve been racking my brain on how to rectify the situation, but the most of the solutions I came up with were very expensive and highly treasonous. However, there was one idea I came up with that is cheap, easy, and sure to make me  more famous than Jesus and that other guy people worship combined: Rap feud. 

Think about it, every time there is a new rap feud, the world becomes captivated by it. Tupac vs. Biggie. Jay Z vs. Nas. Nicki Minaj vs. The voices inside her head. Macklemore vs. Music that isn’t terrible. All of these battles have granted all parties involved more fans, more money, and, by the transitive property of hip hop, mo’ problems. This plan is fool proof. 

For my beef to work, I’m gonna have to go big or go home. That’s why I’m aiming  for the top. Granted, I haven’t followed rap that closely since about 2001, but I’m assuming not a lot has changed in 12 years. As such, I’m assuming that Nelly is still the king of the hip-hop charts, and that’s who I’m going to take down. 

Unfortunately, I’m completely devoid of any musical ability, so instead of creating  my own phat beats I’m going to have to borrow from the public domain. Also, I’m unable to keep rhythm and my voice is really unpleasant to most ears, so instead of performing my diss track, I’m just going to write down the lyrics. Hopefully this won’t matter, though. It’s not like not having talent has ever kept people from achieving fame through rap. I mean, look at Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes....Yeah, I know she’s dead...

 

If you wanna help me out in my quest for ubiquity, please just press play on the video below, read these lyrics aloud with an accent that’s probably offensive to black people, and help me give Nelly the tongue lashing of his life. 

The Beat

The Rhymes 

St. Luna-DICK (Fuck You, Nelly!) 

I hate you Nelly! / 

Or should I call you Smelly? /

Or maybe Belly, / 

Because you're fat! / 

Also, you're kind of a rat. / 

St. Louis? / 

More like St. BOO-is! / 

Yeah, I know where you live / 

and I'm going to come at you with a shiv /

For legal reason I want to say that's not a real threat, / 

Because I don't want you to sue me and send me into debt. 

Fuck You Nelly

[Repeat: x10]

No I don't wanna take a ride with you. 

(Then if I was performing this, this is where I would drop the mike.)

Willie out. 

5 Easy Ways to Get a Little Extra Pocket Money

With the economy the way it is, we can all use a little extra cash in our pockets. That’s why I have complied a list of five fun and easy ways for you to get the money you want without having to do a whole lot of extra work.

1) Recycle: Every can or bottle you drink is worth five cents. (Ten cents if you're from Michigan, which I sincerely hope nobody reading this is.) Every time you throw away one of those suckers you're basically just throwing away money, so recycle. It's good for the Earth and your wallet. Don't think you're above it just because homeless people do it. 

2) Save your coins: This one may seem pretty obvious, but you have no idea how much people lose every year in loose change alone. My advice, do what I do: Let your inner child out and splurge on a piggy bank. Name it Sir Ham-A-Lot, develop a closer relationship with it than you should have with an inanimate object, tell him all your secrets and then, once it's full, smash it with a hammer. When you stop crying, you'll be amazed by how much you saved. 

3) Don't tip: The truth of the matter is tipping is not required. The only reason we all do it is because it's considered moral, but as we all know there is no place for morality in finances. Rather than pissing away cash on someone who did nothing but manual labor, save that 15 percent and put it straight in the bank. If you wanna have a little extra fun, on the line that says "Tip" write something along the lines of "Get a real job" or something. Not only is it HILARIOUS, it will also motivate them to pursue a higher paying career. 

4) Sell Drugs: People may not realize it, but there is a lot of people out there willing to spend a lot of money on cocaine. Capitalize on this untapped market, by getting in the game yourself. As any advertiser will tell you, children will buy just about anything so I recommend setting up shop at a school or playground. The true genius of this plan is you will definitely have repeat buyers, so you just need to sit back, make the occasional call to your supplier, and watch the money roll in. For those of you who don't feel comfortable selling illegal substances, don't worry. I have a solution for you: Replace the coke with totally legal carpet cleaner. It's near impossible for a normal person to tell the difference, so there's no way a stupid coke-whore would be able to. Plus, the sheer toxicity of it means you won't have to deal with unhappy customers later. 

5) Scam a Widow Out of Her Inheritance: Old people are cash cows. Their old age mean's they've been saving money for a while, and their proximity to death means they're too decripit to spend any of it. To get yourself a piece of that old-person savings pie, just take yourself to the nearest retirement home. Search for a sad looking woman displaying signs of memory loss. If they have Alzheimer's that would be ideal, but any sort of neurological disorder will do. Tell the woman you are their deceased husband Edgar (His name will be Edgar, all dead husbands are) and begin sitting with her on a daily basis. To combat the general sadness that comes with dealing with old people, dip into some of the cocaine you're selling. It will make you happier, and help with the smell as well.  When you have gained enough of the old woman's trust, have her sign a form naming you her sole heir. Thanks to our good friend mother nature, it won't be long until it's goodbye old widow, and goodbye budget. Ka-Ching!!! 

4 DIY Life Hacks for When Your Roommate is Driving You Crazy

The following is an article I submitted to the helpful hints section of Dormlife.com. They rejected it and told me I should seek professional help. While they are stupid and they deserve that bomb threat I called in, I am not deterred. And so, without further ado, I give you: 

4 DIY Life Hacks to Deal With Roommates Driving You Crazy 

1. The Problem: The Music Lover Roommate

Being forced to listen to loud, annoying music is a certifiable form of torture. Unfortunately, because of the Music Lover Roommate, it is also a fact of life for many unlucky college students. Everyone knows the type: They think that discovering a song off some obscure music blog is tantamount to curing cancer. They say things like “I actually prefer The Kinks to The Beatles” and “Lady Gaga is this century’s Hitler.” All while giving you a look so condescending, it’s enough to make you pee your pants full of ice-cold blood. But the worst part is, it’s not enough for them to just listen to an obscure band composed of nothing but a banjo player, a hype man, and a ventriloquist dummy. They have to listen to their aural swill constantly, without headphones, at volumes not suitable for human eardrums. 

The Solution

To get a little silence back in your life, remember: Fight fire with fire. Also remember that, though arson is highly effective, it is also likely to get you expelled, and I was actually speaking metaphorically just then. For this easy DIY, all you need is a few blank CDs and a pencil. When your roommate is asleep, simply sneak over to their laptop and burn yourself a copy of whatever piece-of-shit du jour they’ve been subjecting you to. The next day, beat your roommate home, and greet them with their own stupid music blasting from your speakers. The sight of someone else enjoying what they thought was their own little secret will instantly turn them off from ever listening to that band again. The pencil is for you to bite down on during this self-inflicted torture. Repeat this process every time your roommate discovers a new avant-garde piece of shit. Eventually, your roommate will come to realize that maybe they aren’t the unique trendsetter they thought they were, and they’ll begin shifting their focus from music to their art. They’re gonna use their own blood instead of paint, because they don’t play by your rules, man. 

2.The Problem: The Party Animal Roommate

Don’t get me wrong: partying is an important part of college. However, for some people, partying is the only part of college, and those unlucky enough to live with the aforementioned party people are in for whatever the opposite of a treat is. Just imagine it: You come home from classes, looking to get a little work done on a Tuesday afternoon, and there’s your roommate drinking a beer that some guy named Jonesy, in a backwards cap and mesh tank top, is pouring down what looks like a cross between a Rube Goldberg device and a funnel. You try to study through the sound of their unnecessary chanting and frequent high fives, but it’s just no use. 

The Solution

The Party Animal Roommate is not unlike the common Labrador Retriever. While this has its downsides, such as smells, noises, and the occasional leg humping, it does mean one thing: they are easily trained. For this hack, you will need a car battery, some copper wire, and a 30 pack. Attach the copper wire to the end of the car battery to create a rudimentary taser. Bring your device and the 30 pack to your roommate and dare them to play this new drinking game you’ve heard is all the rage down at the Sigma Pi house. Tell them it’s called “Sip and Zap” and that it consists of shocking one’s own genitals every time you take a drink. Because dares, drinking games, and anything involving their own genitals are like catnip to the Party Animal, they will accept your challenge. When they do, sit back and watch as they shock themselves into a passable human being. By the time the 30 pack is gone, 20 minutes later, your roommate will have forced upon themselves a Pavlovian revulsion to beer. They’ll lose their one joy in life, and you’ll be free to once again work in your room in peace. 

3. The Problem: The Messy Roommate

This is probably the most common annoyance that comes with having a roommate: All you want to do is relax in a nice, clean dorm room that doesn't smell like a combination of rotting Lunchables and stale beer, but unfortunately for you, you're living with a slob. You've asked your roommate many times "Hey, how about instead of throwing those skid-marked, tighty-whities onto my side of the room, maybe you put them in a hamper?" and they, in turn, have responded by telling you that they don't own a hamper and have no intention of buying one. 

The Solution

So how do you deal with someone who is dirty as a pig and stubborn as a mule? By showing them the error of their ways with this easy, DIY life hack. All you need is some string, a box, a stick, and a little bit of cheese. Combine these four items into a rudimentary trap and bring them down to your dormitory’s basement. Hunker yourself down there until eventually a rat comes in search of a snack. Pull the string, trap the rat, and bring it back up to the cesspool you call your room. Hide your new pet in your closet for a day without food, only checking in on it occasionally to poke it with a stick. (No need to get a new stick; just use the one from your trap!) Once your rat is nice and ornery, wait for your roommate to fall asleep, then release your furry friend, and wait for him to inevitably bite your slumbering suite-mate. When and if your roommate survives the Ebola, you will find that they have developed a new, cleanlier lifestyle. Cleanliness is next to godliness after all, and how does God get his points across? With a plague.

4. The Problem: The Naked Roommate

We’ve all been there. You get home from a long day of class, only to be greeted by the sight of your roommates weird, shapeless genitals flapping in the breezes of your oscillating fan. For whatever reason, your housing department-assigned friend never developed the healthy dose of Puritan repression that drives most of our lives. You wince, avert your eyes, and, eventually, choke back your vomit, but for some reason your roommate won’t take the hint and put their snake (or in the case of a female, their clam) back in its cage. 

The Solution 

One day, NASA will find a way to successfully bottle shame, but until that day comes, you can produce it yourself with this easy DIY. All you need for this trick is a pen, a safety pin, and some sort of powerful anesthetic. I recommend ether or chloroform, but any noxious poison you can get your hands on will do. (What about the cafeteria beef stew, amiright?) Once you have your chemicals, dab some onto a rag and force your roommate to inhale the fumes. Once they’re passed out, break the pen open and collect the ink on a piece of glass or hard plastic. Take your safety pin and dip the pointy part into the ink, and begin poking whatever your little heart desires into your nudie-roomie’s skin. Be creative here, but make sure whatever you draw is going to be something your roommate will want to keep under wraps. I suggest things such as embarrassing secrets, hate speech, or a list of all the transmittable diseases they have. All you book lovers out there may want to take a cue from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and write: “I’m a rapist pig” across their chest. Follow your heart and have fun with it. Just make sure you’re satisfied with it before putting safety pin to passed out nudist; this is permanent after all. When you’re done, just set it and forget it. Your roommate will be so embarrassed by his new body art, don’t be surprised if they start wearing two pairs of sweatpants and a turtleneck just to hide  from the world. Problem solved. 

Miley Cyrus

     Because I am a new blog, I'm still trying to find my audience. As such, I've decided to by following success. I've been studying other blogs and websites, trying to figure out what attracts readers, and right now it's clear to me what the biggest draw is: Miley. More specifically, everyone seems obsessed with talking about how a once sweet, Disney star has apparently become a racist prostitute.
     For the record, I have not actually seen the performance that started it all, so I technically don't know for certain how racistly slutty (or, perhaps, sluttily racist) it actually is. However, given the way it has been described to me, I imagine she defiled a Martin Luther King Jr blow up doll before queefing her way through a negro spiritual. If this is indeed the case, the bombastic outcry is totally justified, and not at all just the media talking shit about a 20 year old in order to gain readers and viewers.  The national dialogue sparked by the tragedy that occurred at the VMAs is undoubtedly going to end both racism and teen pregnancy in one foul swoop, and I want to contribute to it. So with that, I present to you my open letter to Miley Cyrus.

Dear Miley, 

     Fuck you. You're a stupid racist slut. You're like the baby that would be produced if all those Tiger Woods mistresses gang-banged Hitler. Fuck you. I don't even know how you sleep at night. I mean, if the shame you should feel isn't enough to make toss and turn, the pain you feel from your syphilitic cooter should sure be. 

     You dumb bitch. What self respecting human being would think of a performance like that? What the fucking fuck were you thinking? What did the syphilis finally spread to your brain? Yeah, I know I mentioned syphilis twice. That's because I'm assuming you carry two distinct strains of it. 

     And what's this I hear about you singing about drugs?!?! I mean, the minstrel shows I can forgive, but what the hell kind of 20 year old experiments with sex and drugs? What's next? Are you going to make shop lifting cool again? What about murder? What, are you going to start dabbling in some corporate embezzlement? I guess the sky's the limit for you, isn't it you stupid whore. 

     Does it feel good, Miley? Does it feel good knowing that you single handedly corrupted an entire generation of children? What else do you have up your sleeve? How else do you plan on fucking our country in the ass, huh? What was that gas in Syria actually just the noxious fumes that naturally leak out of your diseased snatch? I wouldn't be surprised. 

    In closing, Miley, I think we can all agree that you should take a good long look in the mirror, and then commit suicide. We would all be better off. 

Sincerely, 

    Willie Muse

Introduction

Dear Hypothetical Reader, 

Life is a journey...At least that's what I'm told. Personally, I don't really see it. Granted, I've never really given it a whole lot of thought. It never really seemed worth my time. 

Still people seem to have a fondness for life, what with the trees, and romance, and morning dew and what not. People love their lives so much, in fact, that many if not most of them have devoted themselves to sitting in a dark room with their computers in an effort to document it. I don't really have anything about my life worth documenting, but because I already spend most of my time in a dark room in front of a computer, blogging just makes good sense. 

What will I blog about? I don't really know, but since I'm assuming there's nobody actually reading this but me,  I don't think it really matters...I'll figure something out. 

And so, non-existent reader, it is now that officially ask you to enter my world. It is a world of intrigue, fantasy, mental illness, and and typos. 

Welcome to Willie's World. Proceed with caution...