I’ve been thinking a lot about the early hears of The Josh lately, back in grade school. You know, when there were no real problems compared to what you face when you grow up. I’ve found, however, that even my childhood “problems” were actually more problematic then the issues I face today. Sure I don’t really have any idea what to do with my life, but my grade school problems were fucking fierce.

The first issue I can remember facing (besides the pee situation) was that I would always get seated in front of the same girl, Heather. Not only was this girl a disgrace in the looks department, but she also threw up about twice weekly. This problem escalates fast, because she apparently doesn’t know how to run to a bathroom or a garbage can. Multiple fucking times I remember sitting at my desk, learning cursive or whatever the fuck we do, when all of a sudden I hear a streaming splat behind me. She puked all over her desk every single fucking time.

Now, there are two clear problems in this situation. The first being that I have to be self conscious about possibly having puke specks on my back all day. The second is that it brings a whole hell of a lot of attention in the direction of self conscious Josh. She’s the one who clearly made a disaster out of herself, yet all I’m doing is sitting in my desk thinking “Oh my god, everyone is looking in my direction. How embarassing for me to be sitting in front of her. Everyone is going to make fun of me. I hope I don’t have puke specks on my back. Great, now everyone is going to call me ‘puke back’. Fuck it, I’m not going to recess.”

It really sucked too, because I fucking LOVED recess. Especially in 4th grade, when I started coming into my own. Our desks were situated into a square and I didn’t have that disappointment to her parents, Heather, sitting behind me. Oh, what an increase in confidence that brought. I even started developing my skills with the ladies. In fact, this girl who I had a huge crush on said she liked my smile! Well, she didn’t say that directly to me, but her friends told my friends who told me about it. In fact that’s how I still pick up chicks today. I’ll say to my friends “hey, you see that cute girl over there? Go tell her friends that I have a crush on her.” Man, you should see the panties drop…

Anyways, back to recess. In 4th grade I just happened to be the king of a little game I like to call tetherball. Tetherball is a game with a poll and you have to hit the ball, which is attached to a rope, all the way around on your opponent who is trying to wrap it around the opposite direction. Ok, I may have not been the king, but I was ranked 2nd best in the entire school. Then one day I got sick of the “2nd best” moniker, so I decided to challenge the best kid in the school, at recess. I’m pretty sure if it was around back then this shit would have been on Pay Per View.

Now, the thing about tetherball is, that there is also a referee that can call fouls on people and if he calls even one the match is over. Basically you’re not allowed to hold the ball, or touch the string. So the battle was on. Right out of the gate I start out a little weak. He got a couple loops wrapped around the bar on me, but then I started mounting a comeback. I was the fucking comeback kid with the nice smile that drove the ladies wild, yeah, that’s me. I was fucking owning! Around and around I went, almost had the match wrapped up, the game was fucking mine! Then, all of a sudden I hear “roping!”.

I hadn’t made it a point to notice that the referee at the time happened to be a kid that always called fouls on me. This kid was a douche. The only reason he would call fouls is because the referee was the next kid in line, so if you called a foul it would be your turn faster. I never fucking touched the rope, EVER. Yet this kid always fucked me over. I wish I remembered his name because I would hunt him down and kick him off his garage with a tetherball rope around his neck and say something clever and awesome like “who’s touching the rope now, bitch?”. I realize that if I did that it I still can’t take back that win and make it mine, but with that douche fuck out of the picture I’d say the big winner would have to be the world.

Tags: grade school, tetherball

Right off the bat I just want to say that the title of this blog is in no way a request, or an invitation of any kind. I’m not into that kind of stuff at all no matter how much alcohol and/or money you throw at me. Wait, how much money are we talking, first? If it’s enough to let me quit my shitty job and get me a one way ticket out of this fucking place I may have to consider, or maybe if you’re just really, really nice. Hmm, what was this blog post about again?

Oh yeah, I made a fantastic realization the other day that people are calling people “asshole” way to often these days. In fact, I can remember back to a few times in my life where I have been mislabeled as an asshole. Ok, you know I’m an asshole, I know I’m an asshole, but the person who unleashed that word upon me would have no prior knowledge of my asshole-ishness. In fact, I’m throwing my blame for getting mislabeled as sometimes being a spacey, and sometimes even shy individual.

The first example I can think of is when I was about 14 years old. I had not grown into the hugely awesome mix of personality and awesomeness that I am today. In fact I was probably the shyest and most introverted person in the history of humans. I was walking into a bookstore with a group of family members when some stranger held the door open for all of us. The two people ahead of me said “thank you” but for some shy reason I did not so he murmured “asshole” under his breath to me.

I am here today to say that I did not deserve that tag on that very day! I was just extremely shy at that age, plus I was calculating the situation in my head at the time. In my mind I was thinking “hmm, the two people ahead of me said ‘thank you’, maybe that is a sufficient ‘thank you’ for the entire group. How many ‘thank you’s’ does he need?” At that time I had already passed the jerkoff who was holding the door so it was left unsaid. Regardless, wow, you held the door for people, big congratulations to you, sir. Never in my existence have I seen someone pull off that fucking feat before. Make sure you collect your “thank you’s” from every member who passed through. That guy had what I like to call retard emotions.

Thanks to that guy I will no longer go into buildings with other people. I’ll scope out stores, sometimes for hours at a time, just to find a spot where I can enter and exit alone. I’ve pretty much been reduced to going through those motion sensor slidey doors, and those twirly compartment doors which make you feel like you’re going to get your leg chopped of when you enter and exit. Another thing I noticed is that those compartments in the twirly door could be big enough for a bus to fit in, but two dudes will never enter the same compartment together unless they’re fags.

Let’s face it though, I am basically an asshole to a lot of people. I’m just saying that whether it’s opening the door for someone, helping carry bags, helping someone with car problems or saying “hey that girls has AIDS, don’t sleep with her.” It’s possible that people won’t do some of these things, not because they’re an asshole, but maybe they’re shy or crazily self conscious. Or sometimes they will not do some of these things as a complete asshole, but I’ll try to play it off like I’m shy or self conscious…

Tags: asshole, shy

In all honesty I really have no idea why people keep submitting “Ask Josh” questions, but I love it. I actually just got this one a couple hours ago and needed some easy blog fodder. Remember, “Ask Josh” is a segment I do every so often where I answer your deep, life questions. It’s how I give back to the community. For more information click HERE.

This question is from some girl named Brandy… Is it just me or do I get a lot of questions from women? You know my policy on women is, if they talk to me at all they’re pretty much guaranteed to be in love with me. It’s both a fantasy and a burden. Oh, what’s a boy to do…

Anyways, on to the question:

I ran into my first love a while ago and we started to talk. He said he still loved me and that we should have never broken up. I seen him two times and now every time I plan to go see him he won’t answer the phone or he makes up an excuses not to see me. What is his deal? And do I just need to walk away from him?

Not only do all these questions seem to be from females, they are also usually riddled with grammatical errors. Apparently my blogs main demographic is “dumb whores”. Nevertheless, I will do my best to give a fair and honest answer.

It’s pretty clear to me that the first time you ran into your “first love” he was clearly drunk out of his skull. Sure he said he loves you and that you should have never broken up, but guys will say anything to get pussy, even if it’s deformed from being used constantly (I’m guessing you broke up because you’re a whore, as that’s how all relationships usually end, in my experience). In this case I would suggest you not walk away from him. Just leave a message about how you’ll give him a bunch of liquor… and anal… definitely throw in anal because it “hasn’t been used as much”.

So, he was either super drunk, or he just felt completely sorry for you. He probably saw you walking down street and felt bad because of how ugly and fat you’ve gotten. He most likely just wanted to cheer you up because you’re clearly depressed and on the verge of suicide. Giving you a slight reason to keep on living is probably all he was after. In this situation I’d suggest you not going after him. It would definitely be your best bet to go after a minority now that you’re fat and disgusting, because we all know minorities will fuck anything.

Tags: Ask Josh, Relationship Question