And like anything that’s completely pointless and a great distraction from work, you should bet on it. And like anything you should bet on, you’re going to need some sort of bracket system to keep from having to explain it all to Suzy in Accounting for the 30th fucking time today. So feel free to kill a few trees and print this out, it’s what He made the trees and toner cartridges for anyhow.

While all of these fine fellows (and it’s only fellows, sorry gals) have a shot at the title, my money is on Archbishop Horse’s Ass.

Here ya go:

(click image to see full size)

]]> http://www.daviscomedy.com/2013/03/march-madness-vatican-city-conclave-2013/feed/ 0 http://www.daviscomedy.com/2013/01/dear-prudie/ http://www.daviscomedy.com/2013/01/dear-prudie/#comments Wed, 23 Jan 2013 03:23:45 +0000 Matt Davis http://www.daviscomedy.com/?p=4809 Slate.com regularly tweets pieces from advice columnist Emily Yoffee (aka Dear Prudence) with the hashtag #DearPrudie. The abbreviated title they use for the inquiry she is answering, for one reason or another, always makes me laugh. Maybe it’s the directness of the statement… maybe it’s the ridiculousness of the situation… maybe it’s that I can’t believe people have some of these “problems.” Regardless of why I find them humorous, I never read beyond the tweeted title. I don’t want to ruin it with facts or empathy. Instead, I mumble a quick “what the fuck,” imagine someone calling me with the same issue and my reply, and then abruptly fuck off down the internet.

Honestly, outside of being a framing device for a shitty romantic comedy, I don’t understand why advice columns still exist. Most of the questions can be answered by a Google search, and all the rest can be summed up with “stop doing that.” I don’t know, maybe Emily and her pseudo nome de plume have really helped some folks get their life together and stop writing in to advice columns. Maybe I should write her and get some advice on how to stop using the fucking word “maybe” in this post. These are, of course, questions for which we shall never ascertain an answer. They are also not the point of this, thus far, rambling post.

We skip back six sentences to the second part of the sixth sentence in the first paragraph, and arrive at our topical destination; more specifically the “my reply” part it. Yes, that’s right, all this has been is a verbose vehicle for my replies to #DearPrudie title tweets by Slate. Enough fucking about, let’s get to the fucking about.

#DearPrudie “My Husband Won’t Let Me Go a Day Without Makeup.”

#DearPrudie: “My Husband Won’t Let Me Go a Day Without Makeup.” slate.me/XtwUVj

— Slate (@Slate) January 23, 2013

I iterate the point that I haven’t read beyond the title in bold above. I’m also going to make the assumption that this person is a woman; not because it’s referencing a husband – I would never be so insensitive -, but because this person is seeking advice from a stranger on the internet.

Two possible scenarios arrive in my mind about Jane, (I’ve named our correspondent Jane, by the way):

1) Her face is revolting. Seems obvious enough to us all now that I’ve said it, but too many people never really realize just how terrifying their face is; especially women. And if you’re a size two with D tits, let’s face it, no one has seen your face in well over a decade. I don’t think that this is at the root of our inquiring mind’s question, however. If Jane made it all the way to husband territory, his inability to ejaculate without her facedown and smothered between the mattress and box springs would have clued her in long ago. If not, than the makeup is probably to hide the bruises he gave her so she would put on makeup and hide the face that her genetics gave her. Anyway you spin it, I think it’s far more likely Jane is dealing with numero dos:

2) Your husband wants to fuck a clown. Coulrophilia, the ‘philia form of the recently popular Coulrophobia, is a sexual attraction to clowns. And you married one of them weird fucks, Jane. Seriously, Jane, just how hideous do you have to be that the only ring offering came from a guy that needs you lathered in face paint like a gadabouting William Wallace?

I really hope you’re happy with yourself, Jane… I just lost the six other examples of #DearPrudie replies I had written (but evidently not saved) because my browser crashed around hour two of my clown porn research for this post. I hope you’re happy, Jane… you hideous beast you.

With Love,

Matt Davis

I’m not going to go into the academic explanations available on the misinterpretations of Mayan calendars, nor the antiquated non-scientific approaches to monitoring celestial events. Because what’s the fun in that? Instead, here’s a more fun game:

Whether you’re a hardline end of days believer, a panic junky in need of a twitch, or a casual “just in case”-er fledgling around with the intellectual spine of a salamander, I have an offer. If you think, or want to think, there is even an inkling of a chance that this latest end of the world foofaraw has some validity, put it in writing. If you’re right, it doesn’t matter. The world will end. If you’re wrong, you are desititute. If at 12:01am December 22nd the world is still here, you give me all of your internet accounts. Your Facebook, your twitter, your instagram, everything; and you can’t start a new one, ever. You forgo your ability to communicate with the rest of us. Oh, and you give me all your stuff too. ‘Cause why not? The world is maybe ending right?

Here’s a read (don’t worry, there’s a linked PDF at the end. Just email me via the Contact page and I’ll tell you where to send it).

The Bet:

TC: We became Facebook friends a few days ago. Is the Facebook happy birthday wish the most hollow, soulless, “I care only enough to send you a public email” message or should I focus my hate on something more important?

MD: The Facebucket happy birthday message is an integral part of the Me Monster psychology that drives much of “social media.” (And I use quotations around that phrase, because I wish to convey the air quotes and hackneyed British accent I used when saying it aloud as I typed). Its roots, and natural place in the order of things, can be traced back to the early days of discourse on the Internet; even before java applet loaded geo-cities sites crashed your browser, and email was so uncommon AOL felt the need to chirp out an announcement every time your Aunt Donna forwarded you a shitty, scanned Garfield calendar cartoon. From news boards, to message boards, to all the Alt dot groups, we arrived at genre specific forums hosted on top level domains. (And if you edit this to replace “genre specific” with “niche,” I will personally fill your intestines with live wasps). As forums progressed, with great benefit from open source platforms, the User Profile options increased. I mean sure, you were getting helpful information from Dave in Winnipeg on how to install the fuel filter on an 83 BMW, but you had no idea what his other interests were… “I wonder if Dave has a favorite quotation,” you would mutter. Luckily, all these problems were solved and we ended up with Friendster, and then Myspace. The latter essentially being the inversion of the web forum. User Profile in the forefront, and exchange of information buried within the actions and settings. Where myspace faltered, Facebook succeeded. Filtering down the information you see – even going as far to alter algorithms, based on your passed clicked content, to show you more of those type of posts and less posts from opposing views. If you click a lot of Fox News links, you’re missing some from Huffpost… and vice versa. It’s tailored – increasingly – more and more to you, for you, and about your interests; purging the unnecessary garbage that could be categorized as a new experience or opposing point of view. And if everything ends in the Me, than what greater thing to have all your Internet friends notified about than the most Me Monsterish driven day of the year? And keeping with the hollow, there are now apps that will auto-post for you; collecting your friends birthdays and posting some spam infected link to an e-card produced in a creativity vacuum. It’s been a quick two decade trip, but in the end I am confident we will bring the internet back down the same level of non-interaction we had before it existed.
Personally, most of the info on my Facebook profile is false for this reason. I willfully accept requests from strangers. The family listed on my profile (even though I don’t know how to see that anymore since the Timeline changes) is all horseshit. I told people to add me as their grandmother or son, and they did. I think I have two life partners right now, and I was someone’s unborn child. I never worked at the Embassy to the Holy See, and didn’t go to Brown. I routinely ask people to check me in/tag me where ever they are, and some do. It’s hilarious to me. I’m sitting in Atlanta, or Seattle, and my Facebook says I’m having lunch in Anchorage, or at a truck stop parking lot in Pennsylvania getting a blow job. I mean, why fucking not?
And yes, I send out birthday messages to people. When ever I think to look at it, I run right through the list, and usually without ever looking at the names. It’s always some variation of this: “yay internet happy good times birthday go you wow congratulations danger zone get some suck it go you you’re welcome.” If I’m feeling particularly caffeinated, I post this:

Matt Davis wishes you Happy Birthday

To answer your question directly: focus your hate where ever you’d like, but remember that one massive solar flare can wipe all this digital shit off the planet forever. And once it’s all gone, then where will you focus your hatred? Probably best to go ahead and find a real world thing to hate. I do my best to just enjoy how creepy it all is.

Instead, though, I made this:

I was driving this week when, for the first time in a long time, I happened to hear ‘ole Tom on the radio once again dropping his folksy, iconic catch phrase. And it occurred to me, “That fucking light has been on most of my life.” I mean, at some point somebody’s grandfather has had to have yelled at them. Most of us couldn’t leave the bathroom light on for 30 seconds without getting a friendly, stern reminder about “wasting energy,” or “money not growing on trees,” or some other overplayed idiom of parental dialogue. And here Tom Bodett is, for most of my life, just willy-nilly flipping switches like a mad man, and bragging about it. It’s no wonder we all suffered through countless lectures about household finance preprended with an introductory, “how many times do I have to tell you kids…”, when on every radio station there was ‘ole Tom, in his Mayberry way, giving us a grandfatherly-toned example of the opposite.

Just how long have Tom and the rule-breaking hellions of Motel 6 been telling our parents to “suck it?” As I stated it the beginning, 26 years. And how many switches have these hell-bound reck-looses flicked and forgotten? By Motel 6’s numbers in 1980, at least 300 (they sit at 1100 today)! Oh, I can hear the cartoon ear-steam of every parent in America trying to wrap their head around such a number. But not to worry, Moms and Dads, I’ll do the math. If the moth collector Tom and the Gang left burning for all these years is a standard flood/outdoor 150 watt bulb, than at JUST the minimum 300 locations in 1986 to present – with no accounting for growth – that’s 10,417,680 Kilowatts (leap years accounted for). Which is, 10,417.68 Megawatts, and thereby 10.41768 Gigawatts! Or, if you prefer movie-based analogies to less fancy numbers, it’s almost enough to fire up the flux capacitor and take your mom to the Under The Sea Dance eight and half times! (8.60965289 times, if you’re counting) Damn it, Tom! We could’ve been time traveling!

To continue along the logic of those childhood lectures concerning money and trees, let’s take it away from the vague rhetorical questions of,  ”do you know how much blah, blah, blah,” and see what Tom-Tom and his cohorts have spent on their parental defiance. First we take the an average of household kWh costs, to do this I’ll grab some data from 1986 to 1997 (converted to 1997 dollars) that puts the lowest (’97) at 9.4 cents and the highest (’86) at 11.2 cents, giving us a workable mean around 10.3 cents in constant 1997 dollars.

But let’s go deeper, Tom.

If we take the data available from 2001 to 2011 on average US electricity costs cent/kWh:

We get an ’86 to ’97 average of 10.3 and a 2001 to 2011 average of 7.33, giving us an estimate-able (not even remotely a real word) mean for 1986 to 2011 of 8.85 in constant 1997 US dollars. If, using our same chart from the good folks at Oregon State University, we convert that to 2012 constant dollars we get:  12.38 cents per kilowatt hour, or $0.1238 if you prefer dollar signs.

Now that’s per kilowatt hours… and Tom and his wild band of misfit light switch flickers have racked up… oh… only 10,417,680 kilowatts of those, 150 watts an hour at at time. Which is to say, 1 kilowatt an hour = $0.1238, and  0.15 kilowatts is $0.01857 an hour… for 26 years… in at least 300 locations…

which is: $1,289,708.78 purchased over time, or the direct purchase cost of those kilowatt hours: $193,456.318.

Either way  I can assure you, Tom, our Mom’s are pissed.

Turn off the damn light.

_______________

Other stats/numbers/etc. used cited:

http://qrc.depaul.edu/StudyGuide2009/Notes/CPI/cpihandout.htm

http://www.eia.gov/beta/enerdat/#/topic/7?agg=0,1&geo=g&endsec=vg&freq=A&start=2001&end=2011&charted=1

http://www.census.gov/prod/2011pubs/12statab/energy.pdf

http://www.motel6.com/about/corpprofile.aspx http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Motel_6 http://www.bodett.com/

As you know, you have recently declared that marriage is to be defined by law as being “between a man and a woman.” I would like to pretend for a moment that I am fine with that. I would further like to suspend my previous arguments on the matter, (namely those outlined in a letter from 2010 to former congressman and senatorial candidate JD Hayworth), and ask wholeheartedly several questions on behalf of an often forgotten sector of the population. The language in the recent, voter approved amendment to your State’s constitution is as follows:

“Marriage between one man and one woman is the only domestic legal union that shall be valid or recognized in this State. This section does not prohibit a private party from entering into contracts with another private party; nor does this section prohibit courts from adjudicating the rights of private parties pursuant to such contracts.”

It is a cleaner, more to the point, version of the language in the constitution of the State in which I was born, Alabama, which may very well be the wordiest of all such provisions/amendments, and reads as thus:

Alabama Const. Art. I, Sec. 36.03

“(a) This amendment shall be known and may be cited as the Sanctity of Marriage Amendment.

(b) Marriage is inherently a unique relationship between a man and a woman. As a matter of public policy, this state has a special interest in encouraging, supporting, and protecting this unique relationship in order to promote, among other goals, the stability and welfare of society and its children. A marriage contracted between individuals of the same sex is invalid in this state.

(c) Marriage is a sacred covenant, solemnized between a man and a woman, which, when the legal capacity and consent of both parties is present, establishes their relationship as husband and wife, and which is recognized by the state as a civil contract.

(d) No marriage license shall be issued in the State of Alabama to parties of the same sex.

(e) The State of Alabama shall not recognize as valid any marriage of parties of the same sex that occurred or was alleged to have occurred as a result of the law of any jurisdiction regardless of whether a marriage license was issued.

(f) The State of Alabama shall not recognize as valid any common law marriage of parties of the same sex.

(g) A union replicating marriage of or between persons of the same sex in the State of Alabama or in any other jurisdiction shall be considered and treated in all respects as having no legal force or effect in this state and shall not be”

As I read through the numerous statutes from the other States, the key language only varies slightly; “one man and one woman,” may be phrased “a man and a woman” or “a male and a female,” or “one male and one female,” etc. The gender specification is clearly targeted at the medical declaration of the individual sexes, and not at any perceived societal interpretation of what constitutes a “man” or a “woman.” It is, to put it bluntly, about having only one penis and one vagina in the marriage. The persons and personalities involved are of no concern; neither is sexual orientation. There is nothing, for example, in any of these provisions that keeps a homosexual woman from marrying a homosexual man. Even if they never consummate the marriage, they are equally as married as a heterosexual man and a heterosexual woman. Similarly a bi-sexual man or woman may legally marry another bi-sexual man or woman as long as only one of the two has a penis. So again, sexual orientation of the individual is of no concern. The only legal concern is that there is one penis and one vagina; one male and one female… one innie and one outie.

So what, I ask, of the hermaphrodite?

If a hermaphrodite within one of these states wishes to marry another hermaphrodite, is that marriage to be viewed as doubly same-sex or doubly opposite-sex? Furthermore, if a hermaphrodite lived his/her life as a man and wished to marry a woman does his/her’s presentation as a male overrule his/her’s possession of a vagina? Is that marriage more “opposite” than “same?”

Or, if a hermaphrodite living his/her’s life as a woman wishes to marry another woman, does the presence of a penis nullify any claims against their union? Or does the presence of an extra vagina qualify it as same-sex? Or is the whole thing illegal because there isn’t an even amount of sexual reproductive parts? Which brings me back to the two hermaphrodites wishing to marry each other: If they both live their lives as men, but both posses vaginas, is the presence of the vagina of one enough to counter the penis of the other?

And if all these extra parts are some how deemed “same-sex” qualifiers for you, then what of women born with uterus didelphys, a condition that leaves them with two vaginas? If a woman with uterus didelphys wishes to marry a man of no special genital classification, is there marriage, too, not valid because there are too many sexual reproductive organs for one civil contract? What if she promised to wear an eye-patch over one of them at all times?

Listen, I realize this is a lot of talk about peoples’ naughty-bits, but in terms of gender classification what else is there? I suppose we could venture into the realm of a pseudohermaphrodite (from Dictionary.com: “an individual having internal reproductive organs of one sex and external sexual characteristics resembling those of the other sex or being ambiguous in nature”), but that deals without appearance and not necessarily the biological gender of the person. And let’s be honest, if we start qualifying gender roles in marriages by outward appearance we are going to end up nullifying the marriages of over half the NASCAR viewing populace. I will, however, ask the question anyway: If someone medically classified as a pseudohermaphrodite has female reproductive organs but posses all outward characteristics of a male (facial hair, bone structure, etc.) and “she,” having lived her life as a male, wishes to marry a woman, is that a same-sex marriage? By your standards, yes. However if that very same person medically classified as a pseudohermaphrodite, having female reproductive organs, but possessing all outward characteristics of a male (facial hair, bone structure, etc), and “she,” having lived her life as a male wishes to marry a man, that would in fact NOT be classified as a same-sex marriage; even though at the wedding you would have two grooms.

But why stop there with the hypotheticals: If a man born in the state of North Carolina deems himself a woman trapped in a man’s body and seeks out augmentation surgery to alter his appearance and genitalia to make him a woman, and having done so then wishes to marry a man, do you honor the surgical and legal changes to the man’s identity and allow this marriage? Or do you revert to the original birth certificate? If it is the latter, then you are ignoring the very standard of acceptable count and type of genitalia you put into law when requiring one penis and one vagina.

I am not even attempting, as I stated in the forwarding paragraph, to enter into any sanctity of marriage or religious value-related lines of questioning. The characteristic of sexual orientation was found a non-issue above by the legal example of a homosexual male marrying a homosexual female. Thusly, I am led to believe by the declaration in all laws on the matter that the concern is of gender, and thereby of genitalia; namely in that the law requires only one person with a penis and one person with a vagina to be legal candidates for marriage. Through my non-rhetorical (and yes, I would like an answer to each) questioning above regarding the hypothetical pairings of persons of different genital configurations, the law seems to immediately exclude a portion of the population unable to qualify for the genital type and count required for eligibility.

And for those that would dismiss these questions in favor of a blanketed “there is more to marriage than just the count and type of each person’s naughty-bits,” I kindly ask you to review the law; for the law in each of these states, despite some with flowery wording about securing the institution of blah-blah-blah for later generations and blah-blah-blah, has no mention of any other qualifying factors, beyond legal age and mutual consent, other than that each marriage should consist of no more than one penis and one vagina. It doesn’t matter that the penis and the vagina love each other; or that the penis is only marrying the vagina because the father of the vagina owns the company the penis works at and if he marries the vagina then he will maybe one day become partner; or that the vagina is only marrying the penis because the penis can get her out of the small town she wants so desperately to leave; or any vice versa example.

You passed a law requiring marriages to consist only of a defined, singular number of each type of sexual reproductive organ. However, there are those that – to borrow a line from Frederick Douglas – through no fault of their own, were born with a genitalia make-up outside of the realm of your narrow-minded qualifications. You have effectively told them to, “get fucked,” without even having the common decency to clarify which of their genitals they should use. (And take it from someone versed in dismissive turns of phrase, I assure you that is poor form. [Video One] [Video Two])

In reality the qualifications of legal age and mutual consent work for the betterment of all and are easily justifiable both under the law and within any objective discourse concerning moral goods; not that we see much of the latter. The qualification of a marriage consisting of only two parties is also easily justifiable in both the aforementioned contexts. (There are those that would argue in favor of polygamy, but such arguments are the rants of sadists and backed-up virgins, and we will ignore them accordingly.)

Furthermore, to justify the dismissal of these members of the populace with something a kin to, “the law is as inclusive as it can be for the greatest majority,” a stance that is itself blind to the greater good, I argue why not include language that excludes those citizens of half-Korean / half-Irish decent with one blue eye and one green eye? Such a qualification would only affect, at maximum, a very few, right? And nobody wants to see a redheaded asian looking fellow with two-toned eyes putting a ring on anything.

The fundamental problem, by the way, causing the irritation you may feel while attempting to navigate to a sensible answer to the questions I have asked above (and I do expect you to do so) is rooted in the childish way you have approached the topic. You have, possibly unintentionally, excluded a portion of the population from your attempted logic because of your own inability to acknowledge their existence, or anything about that existence. It’s no different than my friend’s 4 year old telling me I had to eat my vegetables because the seeds in them travel down to my feet and help me grow. The difference between those similar approaches to very different subject matter is that the child’s ignorance was cute, and your ignorance is willful.

If you’re not capable – in the interests of keeping the legislation from being exclusionary – to have your State’s constitution clearly define the maximum number of vaginas and penises within the context of the already agreeable “two consenting;” or have the public discourse on when a man chops of his penis and has it surgically fitted up inside him to make a vagina, whether the new vagina is the gender qualification or the penis it was made out of; or any other number of examples already presented, ad infinitum, through all possibilities; and at great cost, both in time and document real estate; you are most certainly not fit to offer a definition of any brevity.

The unfortunate fact that I wish to convey to all those that favor these attempts to continually define/redefine marriage to some degree that fits some personal, provincial, or Papal fancy is this:

Two adults of legal age mutually consenting, is as deep a qualification as egalitarianism allows; anything more specific is just an excuse to start talking about people’s naughty bits, which I suspect to be your secret want all along.

You’re welcome, and I look forward to your reply.

-Matt Davis

So, I have compiled a quick list of podcasts I have been invited to be on, and shared it below. If I have been on yours, or you have a link to one I have been on that isn’t here, or if you know of a better way to link them, by all means please feel free to leave any of that in the comments.

Otherwise, here’s a short list (I have listed them by their episode number or title and the date they posted to help you find them on the page):

C.B. Radio: (hosted by Cameron Buchholtz) Episode 37 from 7/24/2010 recorded in Little Rock, Arkansas

Comedy Above The Pub (hosted by Todd Van Allen) SO1E10: Matt Davis from 9/30/2010 recorded in Toronto, Ontario

Ardent Atheist  (hosted by Emery Emery), Episode 50 (Ep 050) from 1/25/2012 AND Episode 51 (Ep 051) from 2/1/2012

 Short Bus Heroes (hosted by Kevin Mason & Jamie Bendall) Episode 18 from 3/7/2012

Tom Rhodes Radio (hosted by Tom Rhodes): Episode Matt Davis from4/191/2012

The links on the titles above will take you to the web based version of the iTunes store where you can download them for your ear holes’ enjoyment.

What makes me applaud their behavioral analysis prowess, you ask? This:

Of all the advertisements they shove in that little side bar area, this one I see at least once every time I log in. The others sometime follow content I’m viewing, or just viewed, and there is a plethora of other singles ads that come up, but THIS one… this one I see every… single… time.

Up early for morning radio, check Facebook at 6am: She’s there.

Sleep in late, jump on Facebook around noon or 1pm: Yep, she’s there.

5 o’clock in the afternoon scoot over to Facebook before a pre-show nap: Yes sir, she’s there.

10:30pm back at the hotel to turn in early, bored, hop on Facebook: And… She’s there.

2:30AM in the hotel, drunk, waiting on a pizza I probably won’t be awake to eat, launch ye’ ole’ Facebook: Uh huh, she’s there.

It’s not just that I’m unwillingly forming a relationship with this ad by seeing it over and over again, either. Let’s look at the juxtaposition of personal likes they’ve managed to shove into one picture.

Multicolored hair is always a bonus in my world. So his blue hair  (specifically the non-geriactric blue hair, mind you). This picture? Multicolored hair comprised of two shades of blue.

Dark eye shadow, like an eqyptian would wear to keep the light reflecting off the desert floor from rendering him blind: Yep.

Just a hint of possible asian ancesetry: Just a hint.

Tattoos. Specifically on the shoulder, as in a 1/4 sleeve I’m a fan of. A nice chest piece, if colorful, I’ve always enjoyed. And secretly there is something about the tattooed necklace that let’s you know a hand goes there during sex. And in this picture: All FUCKING three.

The blinds in the background tell me it’s an apartment, or an extended stay hotel because she just moved to town to get her life back together after the Myrtle Beach Hell’s Angel she was dating slapped her around one too many times. Nobody believed she would leave him, but she had gotten what she wanted from him and doesn’t put up with any bullshit.

The positioning of the camera is intended to imply she is sitting at a computer, like right now, waiting on you to get this app that installs a key-logger to snatch your bank account info; and since the quality of the photo isn’t shadowed or pixelated like most webcam shots, than she’s either a tech geek or does unspeakable things on camera at a webcam site. If it’s the former, more points scored. If it’s the latter, more points scored and WHICH ONE?

Although I don’t know if any of the above qualifies her as a “bad girl,” so I must derive from the use of that phrase that she’s done something. Maybe she’s a heartbreaker, or uses the word “cunt” a lot and especially around small children. If so than this bitch is batting a thousand.

I’m going to need this person to be photoshopped for the sake of their own safety. I am also realizing there is undoubtably a series of therapy sessions in my future to determine why I’m attracted to the offspring of an asian pirate and a pixie.

A picture is a thousand words.

Now, I already think it’s silly that every business and company wants me to connect with them via social media. The local Chik-Fil-A promoted their Facebook page constantly for awhile, and try as I might I couldn’t think of a single reason – outside of giving away coupons – that anyone would want to friend/follow a fast food restaurant. But whatever, it’s all the rage these days with the kids I suppose. But it was that confusion and dislike behind my feelings of obsurdity when I saw the #ILoveWalgreens promotion. What follows, in the order I posted them, were my responses. I typed them with one hand, while smoking, and eating that aforementioned breakfast sandwich.

w/obsessive coupon clipping & the great in store deals, I’ve brought the manufacturing costs at my meth lab down over 40%! #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

They never question why I need condoms AND a “Get Well Soon” card. #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

They have that nice privacy shield around the blood pressure machine, really helps w/my conjugal visits. #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

The pharmacy drive through is open 24hrs, which really helps since I don’t finish my pill mill script runs until 2 or 3am #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

They sell diapers & little plastic buckets & shovels. Makes my “kill it or keep it” beach trips sooo much easier #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

Sodas, chips, and frozen pizzas are only a quit waddle away from the blood sugar machines and testing strips! #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

Beard trimmers, make up, hair dye, and travel size toiletries. They have everything for the weekend jet setting pre-op! #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

Their assortment of glitter lotions, Clorox wipes, and vaginal discomfort creams keeps my working girls working! #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

They let me buy Ambien, Pinot Noir, and a pill crusher, and still say “Have a Nice Day!” #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

They put the school supplies one aisle over from their vast mixed nut selection. #fuckweakkids #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

You can get a refill of AZT, some His & Hers KY warming sexual lubricant, & no one even suggests you pickup condoms #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

Their selection of gourmet ice creams really help her to get over me leaving when the pregnancy test comes back positive. #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

Valtrex and Viagra under one roof! #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

They never ask if you have children, no matter how many bags of candy and disposable cameras you buy! #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

You can just stand there and watch women bargain shop for douche! #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

They’ll sell you a Snuggie and a self help book w/out even laughing! #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

You can buy custom insoles for shoes, a knee brace, gold bond powder, and never get your fat ass off the Rascal #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

They’ll sell you everything to deep fry a turkey, and all the ointments and bandages for when it goes horribly wrong. #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

You can buy a spray for diaper rash and one for jock itch, and never end up on a watch list. #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012

Thanks for all the retweets and follows. I gotta run and get some things from CVS now. #ILoveWalgreens

— Matt Davis (@MattDavis) January 12, 2012