Softball and the Fat Fucks Who Play It...

It’s been a long time, I shouldn’t a left you, with a dope beat to rep to. *Rubs the record in* Ok here we go…

First and foremost I apologize for my untimely hiatus. It certainly wasn’t intentional but many things get in the way of one of my favorite past times which is of course writing for all of you who take the time to read and enjoy the archaic symphony that is my life. This is an article about sports, softball to be exact (if you want to even call softball a sport). I think baseball is incredibly boring and fucking stupid so I don’t think you really need to know my sentiments on the game of softball except that it is played professionally by girls. This particular tale takes place in the summer of 2010 while I was working for a telecom company here in fabulous Las Vegas. Just as a sidenote, if you take the time to google the word “softball” and click on the image link you will get nothing but pictures of girls playing. This should have been a precursor for what I was to expect. Typical. Google knows everything. Too lazy to do it? Here ya go:

Who Softball is Really Meant For

I was approached by some of the older males at my office in regards to starting a company softball team. Me being me, I thought, “Great, a little something to do on a Friday after work with some of these co-workers of mine that would most likely involve beer and commenting on some of the women in the stands while maybe going to a bar afterward. Perfect!” But I’m a typical guy and I didn’t expect there to be a massive amount of “bitchassness” as I so often call it amongst other so-called men. But when you get a bunch of guys of a certain age together to partake in random shit like something as dumb as softball, things tend to transpire that aren’t of the highest accord. See the ugly chick behind him laughing? Yeah that's pretty much what happens.

I agreed to start playing with these douchebags, not yet knowing they were douchebags, as I try to keep as far away from douchebaggery as humanly possible. We started meeting up for practices and I started noticing little idiosyncrasies that should have been pre-warning  for the events to come. These guys were in their mid to late 40’s and often times boasted about the 20 years they’ve been playing softball, which of course was funny to me because they fucking sucked. They sucked so good that had they been fellating me I would’ve cum in 30 seconds, but that’s neither here nor there, yet. What I found to be truly incredulous was how the rest of us were all ridiculed for how bad we played. I remember batting at practice and making a double, which is pretty decent for someone who couldn’t care less about playing this stupid game, yet I was still told that I ran to slow and should’ve cleared those bases far quicker than I did. It was at this time I yelled in front of everyone at my aggressor stating, “If you just did what I did you fat son of a bitch you would’ve broke your hip! I walk with more style than you do, let alone getting base hits in this faggot ass game!” What’s important for the reader to understand here was that the guy whom I yelled at was my supervisor at work, kind of. That ceased being the case a few short weeks later, but I digress. Do you think Papa Dom gave a shit? No he did not. Once we leave the office and go anywhere you’re no longer my boss or superior in any way. That being the case, once we step on that field, I will talk shit to you in such a demeaning and below-the-belt fashion you will want to fight me in the parking lot. It was obvious that these morons didn’t know who the fuck they were talking to. I fold and cringe for no man, especially fat forty somethings playing a lame ass game because they were obviously failures in sports as children and want to attempt to relive these failures in a more successful way later on in life. Seriously, these fucking retards thought we were playing in the world series with bases loaded and I was next at bat.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the team got sick of listening to their bullshit as well. I think we all played a total of about five games and then things started slowing down significantly in regards to anybody showing up, I was the first no show. It was relayed to me at work that they had to forfeit the rest of the season because they had lost their entire team. I was seriously wasting my Friday nights when I could’ve been out chasing addictions of the flesh but instead was sitting around with a bunch of old fucks who have nothing else in their life but being the coaches of a shitty softball team. There was maybe two really decent people on this entire team and neither of them were it. This just goes to show that often times people who have nothing substantial in their life, try to make other people a part of their stupid factions and it blows up in their face. They lost their league deposit as well as their respect at work. I made sure to spread verbal poison about their hobby and how after two decades of bragging about playing softball they were still horrible at it. It is absolutely fine if you choose to play a sport simply for the love it whilst sucking the whole time, I understand the love of a game. However if you are going to brag about the length of time you’ve been doing, ridicule others at how they play when they haven’t played since junior high, and then playing absolutely horribly yourself, than it’s time for you to simply just shut the fuck up. One of these guys seriously asked me if I could hook him up with some chicks one weekend. I was like, “First off, why the fuck would I hang out with you on the weekend? Secondly, what makes you think I would throw some pussy your way for any reason whatsoever? If I go out on the weekend and hook up with someone, it’s because I put in work to do so. You sir, being a divorcee of two women already pretty much tells me that you suck as a person or you’re just stupid for getting married twice and failing both times, or all of the above. Either way, no.” The nerve of some people.  Even in the dugout I was talking shit:

“Hey Barry, you’re a shitty coach and you also suck at softball pretty bad.”

“Fuck you, this is MY team! I’m the coach, I run shit on this field!”

“This is all you have in your life huh? You go to work, you go home, watch some porn perhaps, some reruns of cheers and then go to bed. I’m surprised you haven’t killed yourself yet.”

“Fuck you.”

“You probably couldn’t even do that well.”

He got pretty furious with me, but that’s what happens when you throw down the gauntlet with someone who doesn’t take pussy games like softball seriously. Hockey? Sure. Football? Fuck yeah. Softball? Yeah, you can go eat a dick.

So the ultimate point of this tale is that if you wish to join an extra-curricular activity with co-workers whom you already spend 40 or more hours a week with, they better be some really cool motherfuckers and furthermore they better not expect much out of you if they’re not paying you for your attendance at such activities. In fact, I had to pay out of pocket to endure the above bullshit Friday evenings which is infuriating to think about when I think back on what I COULD’VE been doing instead. They even asked if I knew anyone else who would like to play. I’m glad those that I asked didn’t take me up on the offer because they would have just kicked the shit out of these fellas without any hesitation. I’m far nicer than many of my cohorts believe it or not.

So if you play softball and play it as a serious pastime, I urge you to reevaluate your pastimes as a whole. When guys like me walk through the park with my Shar Pei/Pitbull mix and see a bunch of fat fucks on the softball field yelling things at each other and taking such a stupid fucking game so seriously, we’re laughing at you. Seriously. WE ARE FUCKING LAUGHING AT YOUR FAILURE AS A MAN! You are a joke. One extremely long gag reel for passersby and people asked to sit and watch your stupid ass in the bleachers. Go play a real fucking game. You want to run with the dogs or chill on the porch? If you like softball, why don’t you go join a dance school and become a ballerina in your spare time as well? Maybe you can take up tap dancing and pretend your tapping some ass instead of your shiny little  wing tip shoes, because with guys like this, that’s about as close as they’re ever going to get to tapping anything.

I am an asshole and I approve this article.

Sometimes I don't even have to talk shit...

Yup, seriously. It's hilarious to me how all these MTV Jersey Shore bitches find out how just unimportant and untalented they are as soon as they do something outside of the retardation that is MTV. Watching "The Bitch-u-ation" completely bomb here is nothing more than absolute proof of that. I think little by little these Jersey fuckwits are slowly starting to comprehend that the rest of the world seriously thinks they're retarded, except some of the few idiots in Jersey. I hope you enjoy watching this as much as I did the first time.

This is so fucking horrible that I can't even bring myself to watch it anymore. It's not often you can see another human being just suck this bad at something, but what's funny is how he thinks he's doing well. When the master of ceremonies has to get on the podium with you to "assist" with your funny, you suck. You better just get back to the shore with the rest of your godamned retarded friends and fat, talentless whores and pretend like you're all still awesome somewhere.

That is all.

Coming up next I'll discuss the social faux paus of fat guys playing fucking softball in a local park near you but actually taking it seriously.

To Every Hot Girl on Planet Earth, Here is Your Manifesto...

I believe it is high time that I address all of you formally instead of individually as I run into you here and there. It has come to my attention quite some time ago that there are a great many misconceptions about your existence, and if I may have just a few minutes of your time I assure you it will be worth it. I'll go ahead and insert my customary pictures so you're not just looking at a bunch of words these next few minutes. I know that irritates you and your attention span is lackluster at best.

First and foremost I'm not putting all the blame on you. Successful men of the world have been enabling you since the inception of society. By this I mean that they cater to your every whim as long as you remain hot. Remember Helen of Troy? You probably don't, but the Trojan War was started because of her and her hotness. Men have died over a vagina they never had any stake in fornicating with. Again, this is unacceptable, but in hindsight, she may have instigated this tragedy, but men were ultimately to blame for the bloodbath that ensued shortly thereafter.

This girl is the LAST person you should choose as a role model. Seriously.Adam Carolla said that the most evil people on planet Earth are hot white chicks in their twenties with an undeserved sense of entitlement. I'd like to expand upon that and say hot chicks in their twenties and just involve the whole gamut of offenders here. I've never had a problem hooking up with any of you for the most part, but it's always short-lived and do you know why? Because none of you bring anything to the table except your looks. You have failed to develop a personality and for many, you have failed miserably at even being likable. You really have become just the worst kind of people. You make absolutely NO contributions to society, yet you want everything handed to you on a silver platter but do nothing to actually attain all that which you desire except going to the gym. This may be due to your upbringing or maybe you're just lazy. After whomever your benefactor is gets tired of you, you're stuck there wondering what went wrong. What went wrong is that you maneuvered yourself into a consortium of nothing more than to be used for sex and then to be put back onto the shelf of dating and mediocrity. Are you starting to see the folly of your ways yet? You see, hot girls will never have trouble finding a man to date or getting free dinners somewhere nice. Some schlub out there will always be willing to bankroll your activities is long as he eventually gets to dwell in your love nest at some point, but eventually he'll grow tired of your bullshit whining and complaining about pointless, trivial horseshit and send you on your merry way. When you are constantly offering up a shit sandwich, please don't become upset because we decide to go elsewhere to eat. You have absolutely no integrity as people and your moral compass is so completely fucked I'm amazed some of you can find your car in the parking lot.

So instead of abasing you any further I have decided to do something else entirely. I mean I can talk shit about you all day and all night, thus completely destroying the self-esteem you don't even have but I'm not going to do that. That's only for my entertainment and it doesn't help the situation we're all facing in society. Instead I'm going to help you and give you some helpful hints on not only to be better people but how to improve your life and be proud of what you are capable of becoming as a person.

• First and foremost, do something of merit. The majority of most human beings have aspirations and if not aspirations, passions about something in life. If your only passion is getting the new coach bag that just came out, this is directed at you. There is no bigger turn off than a shallow, materialistic succubus of a woman. I am a 31 year old man who has already banged a majority of you out there who fall into this category. After listening to your non-sensical prattle for months on end, I finally grew you tired of your insolence and sent you on your merry way. The things you complained about blew me away. Your friend didn't invite you to a party with her. One of your girlfriends is banging your other girlfriend's boyfriend. They were out of the new Iphone at the Apple store and you have to wait a week to go in there with your daddy's credit card to get it. I guess in your perfect, sheltered little world you found these things to be substantial and because you are incapable of managing your life, much less your emotions, you decided to tell me about all your problems. The only issue here was that none of these were problems and any real man listening to them would roll his eyes and eventually tell you to shut the fuck up, stop crying, stop complaining about nothing, and reevaluate your life. Do something of substance. If you believe in something stand behind it. Let others know of your intentions and show some godamned substance for once in your life. Look at Jenna Jameson, she's stupid as fuck when it comes to all her PETA beliefs, but at least she's about something else besides just taking money shots to the face. You don't necessarily have to be right, but as a human being, if nothing else, stand for something. It makes you less transparent and people will take you more seriously than just being a walking campaign promise for your vagina. I'm giving you gold here.

• Second, get some semblance of an education. This goes with where I said becoming proud of the person you can become. I can understand if you're not college material, not everybody is, but if you're going to do something, do something a little more substantial than going to hair dressing school or being a massage therapist. Engage yourself in something that will actually involve the use of your mind and intellect. Surround yourself with people who encourage this type of behavior and who want you to succeed. Don't just surround yourself with people who are already successful and willing to give you a few of their bread crumbs because they know you'll never amount to anything but the sex is decent. I promise you that when you achieve what it is you're aiming for something amazing will happen. When you attain that first accomplishment, you're going to get hungry for more. I can assure you with the utmost certainty that this is NOT an easy road, but guess what, you have an advantage. You're hot. People in most any venue of life will listen to hot girls that are about something, than someone who is less attractive with the greatest of intentions. This is just how the human condition works. And the more you educate yourself in not just things of an academic nature but also things like life experience, I guarantee you even I would consider dating you longterm. Men LOVE women of a worldly nature who have a higher sense of awareness of who they are and where they're going. Compare that of course to the girl who wants a teacup poodle to put in her purse and a new pair of Gucci sunglasses and you'll see the difference in men's attention towards you. Instead of actually just wanting to fuck you because you're hot, you'll find that we actually take a genuine interest in your existence and want to be around you because we actually enjoy what you have to say and who you are.

• Third, get off the mindset that you have to have fancy things and name brand items to validate your existence. I can tell you that the vast majority of men couldn't give two shits about your new Prada bag, your new extensions, or your Jessica Simpson pumps. Really, we don't care. We love a woman to look great when she's out, but when you become a walking billboard because that's what it takes to make you feel good about yourself, just stop. You need to search within yourself and see why it takes material things to make you feel validated as a person. A man would much rather have a woman who can engage him in intellectual conversation instead of having someone whose entire closet is filled with shoes and clothes, most of which they don't even wear. I'm not telling you not to buy these things, but work towards your goals in life first. Go after your goals with everything you have, and when those accomplishments actually turn into financial achievements, I guarantee you when you buy that next Coach bag it will be all the more sweet. You may even find that you have somewhat lost the will to even want to buy such things because you don't need them anymore to feel good about yourself. Few will admit it, but hot girls have some of the lowest self-esteems out there. Imagine the day where you don't need to buy fancy bullshit to feel good about who you are.

• Fourth, stop being daddy's little girl and do things on your own. It's really a beautiful thing to have parents there to help you and be there for you when you need them, but when you actually have to rely on them instead of being your own person, this is where you fall short. So many women out there rely on daddy's credit cards for financial happiness yet look down on other's who don't have the same things that they have, I can't even believe it. Have you ever stopped to think that your father gives you these things because he honestly believes your too stupid to take care of yourself? No doubt blaming himself for his poor parenting skills because they have been a disadvantage to you in the long run? The fact that you have to rely on a man to change a flat tire on your car instead of learning how to do it yourself should be reason enough for you to stop and take a good long look at your life and seek the independence you so long for but don't know how to acquire. Well Papa Dom is trying to help you here and I'm giving you so much information on how to be a better person right now that I hope you're taking notes. This again comes back to being your own person and not seeking approval from others for what you do. How great would it be when you no longer need to take money from your parents and everything you have in this world has come from you and you alone? The self-motivation you would get from that single event by itself is absolutely priceless and I encourage you to go after it. Unless you are a completely lazy and worthless piece of shit, when you start achieving things on your own, you're going to become an addict. You'll want to keep going and going and going, and again remember you already have an advantage, you're hot. Attractive people in this world just have things far easier than people who are not. This is scripture and there is no reversal to this law.

Holly here tried to capture Hef's empire through urging him to give her a child. He said no and now she does burlesque shows in Vegas for survival. Also, who would want to bang her knowing that Hef's wrinkly old genitals were inside there? Yuck.

Lastly, albeit somewhat morbid, I want you to think about your funeral. Envision for a moment that your life has come to an end. This is it, everything you have done up to this point is officially over. Now what do you imagine people saying about your life as you lay there in a casket? Will they be reciting the typical funeral template of warm-hearted sentiments?

“Oh she was a great person to be around.”

“Oh, she always told the funniest blond jokes...”

OR would you rather people really dig deep to find the right words? For example:

“She was so passionate about helping others and giving back to society. She had a way of just capturing the hearts of others with her nurturing persona and was the most loving mother and wife. She brought so many wonderful and amazing things to us in this world, her passing will be felt by all of us for the rest of our lives. Not only was she my best friend, but she was also the best person I knew and I only wish I could be half the person she ended up being. Nobody else brought with them such a passion for life, integrity as a human being, love as a person and just lit up the room whenever she walked into it. Her husband and children adored her and the world just lost one of it's brightest and greatest people.”

Now which one sounds better to you? It is not too late to become a better person, to stand for something and to create a following of like-minded individuals. Having a husband who doesn't go to bed every night knowing he made a grave mistake marrying you. You going to bed at night being 100% content with your life yet still striving for even more. Steve Jobs said in a speech to Harvard, “When you look in the mirror and ask yourself, 'If today was the last day of my life, would I want to be doing what I'm about to do today?' And if the answer is no too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.” So ask yourself that question. Ask yourself that question every single day, because quite honestly life is too short and there's no reason you need to remain the same shallow, materialistic person you are today who has no goals, no ambitions and isn't about shit. Change who you are and become a better girlfriend, and ultimately one day a better wife and mother. As men we're always willing to help an attractive girl, but if that girl is actually about something more than just being transparent like everyone else, I assure you that all of us will go the distance for you because we know you're not looking for a handout. You're looking for the real thing and we'll see that. Understand, there is nothing special about a hot girl who isn't about anything in life. You're not even a commodity. I live in Vegas and can throw a rock in any direction and hit a hot girl square in the head. They're everywhere. But what is not in surplus supply are women who are beautiful, intelligent, and have integrity as people. So this is my advice to all of you and it is my greatest hope that you take it for what it is and make those necessary changes to become better people. We should not be a society that cares about Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashians stupid asses. They do nothing, they contribute nothing, and they're not about shit except their last name and making sex tapes. Is that what you aspire to be? I hope not, because the intelligent, worthwhile men on this planet are all laughing at you. Do something different, try and impress us for once, I guarantee you that the look you'll get off our faces will be all the proof you need to know that I'm right. 2011 is a week away, so watcha gonna do?

“The greatest service a woman could ever accomplish for herself is to completely dissolve her dependency on a man for survival in today's world.”

-The DomMega December 23^rd, 2010



Urinal Etiquette (Both sexes should read this for general knowledge)

I am quite literally blown away. Seriously blown away! That so many people after hearing about the below Mario Lopez story haven't the slightest idea of what urinal etiquette entails. Are you kidding me? The women I can SOMEWHAT understand you not knowing this, but the men?

I can't believe it. How long have you so-called men been saddling up to the urinal in the men's room? They've even got urinals for children in school and public restrooms as well. All of you should be “old hands” at this. Urinal etiquette in it's purest form, being verbally communicated to you through another male, was never even explained to me. As soon as my manhood became self-aware I knew that standing next to other men to upload was off limits. It was considered “dark territory” for those who had a modicum of common sense. I would like to assume that that would be most of us, but I most often times give the male population far too much credit, which is the sole reason I am writing this right now. If any guy ever tries to discuss urinal etiquette with me online, he will immediately be linked to this single, solitary article. Let us begin.

First and foremost, don't do this:

Can you feel the ghey? Yes, this is unacceptable behavior.

This picture basically depicts what urinal etiquette consists of in the most ridiculous of ways. This isn't uncommon at all in Hollywood, California depending on where you are specifically. You know you're in a bad place if the guy next to you purposely places his foot in such a way that it's touching yours while you're emptying your bladder. Yeah, guess what, you just made an unintentional new friend. Congratulations.

Law 1: Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever stand directly next to another man while he's releasing. Ever. This is absolute scripture if there is another empty urine receptacle available elsewhere.

Reversal to this law: You may however urinate directly next to another man if there are only two urinals in said restroom, there is a line behind you, and a barrier between both urinals. If there is NO barrier, great care must be made to rotate yourself in a 45 degree angle from the other individual so that neither of you have the same line of sight and you yourself are facing an entirely different direction. These are the only exceptions.

Rancid facilities, but ideal situation for just you.

Here are some strict guidelines you should also be made aware of:

1. Look straight ahead at all times. Do not allow your eyes to wander. There is NOTHING worth seeing to your right or your left. Remember you are in the “men's” restroom. No matter which way you look you will only see and hear other dudes. That is it. So you might as well stare at the wall directly ahead of you. You won't be seeing any more chicks until you're done so sit back, relax and enjoy yourself. It's also totally cool if your eyes roll into the back of your head during this ritual, mine certainly do on occasion. And that is also just dandy, as long as your eyes aren't wandering over into your fellow man's urinal. 
2. Do you know the guy next to you? No? Then don't talk to him, because I can pretty much guarantee he doesn't want to talk to you either. 
3. You are free to consort with your friends and make all sorts of ridiculous jokes while pissing, however the same “urinal skipping” etiquette applies here as well. Just because you're buddies does not mean that man law doesn't take precedence here.
4. Don't flush the urinal with your foot. I know that most of America is obese or extremely overweight and you fat bodies can't even lift your foot that high, but for those of you that can, this rule is for you! You are literally standing in piss, excrement, and vomit. You may not be able to see all of these body fluids, but I guarantee you once again that they've all made an appearance in the exact spot you're standing. So do your fellow man a favor and don't take all that nasty shit that is now on the bottom of your shoe, and place that on the urinal plunger for the next guy. I know you don't want to get your precious hands dirty even though you're about to wash them, so if that's the case use your elbow. But no matter what you do, DO NOT kick that plunger.
5. Wash your fucking hands. I don't actually even touch my zipper meat when I'm urinating. I can manipulate it out of my boxers with no actual contact, but I still always wash my hands after. Do you know why? For one, you took a piss, just wash your hands regardless. High pressure urine splashes you and other things, tiny droplets or otherwise. The second reason is because you're going to need that paper towel to open the door when you leave. Do you have any idea how much disgusting vermin and transients are out there touching their cocks and then leaving their essence on the door upon exiting? It's staggering and I know everyone reading this has seen it happen in front of them. Wash your hands and use that wet paper towel to open that door so you don't catch scurvy or hoof and mouth disease.

Scenario 1: You're in a crowded bar, having a good time. You've just poured 3 jack and cokes and 4 Jager bombs into your face. However these drinks are beginning to get processed by your body and now you have to break the seal. You go to the restroom facilities and notice a line of about 5 guys waiting to piss and more are coming in behind you. There are 3 urinals, barriers included, what do you do?

A: Observation is the best school of knowledge I know. You can just wait and see what everyone else is doing and make a decision based solely on that. Or in this case I can already tell you without being at said event, there will be NO skipping the middle urinal. You've got a bunch of guys waiting for porcelain, all of them having to piss like a Clydesdale and you're going to hold up the line because you can't piss directly next to another guy? You will quite possibly get your ass kicked for doing this. All you're doing here is recycling your alcohol, so pay the piper and get out of there. Those guys don't want to be crowded in there with the likes of you anymore than you want to be with them. I also guarantee you that there will be men making full use of the toilets here as well. Situations like these are best treated like a pitstop in Nascar. Get in, empty your bladder, wait for verification from your innards, wash your hands, and get out of Dodge.

Scenario 2: You walk into a small restroom at a dinky hotel somewhere. Upon entering you see one man using a urinal, there's no barrier, no line in front of or behind you, and the other urinal is unoccupied. What do you do?

A: If you are attempting to walk to that empty urinal I want you to give yourself a firm slap in the face. There is NOTHING protecting you from his exposed junk right next to you. Do you know him? Do you want to know him? If both your answers are no, then here is what you do. No bathroom is without a toilet. See that rickety stall in the corner that looks like the most rotten head in Dublin? Yes, that one. You walk your happy ass in there, close the door, kick the seat up with your foot, and you leave your pot of gold here instead. You're going to kick the seat up with your foot so that the bathroom karma gods don't desecrate you in your time of need. I guarantee you there will be a man who has to shit so bad one fell contraction of his sphincter would be too much. Do this poor bastard a favor and don't piss on the only toilet he currently has access to, because I guarantee you, that will be you one day.

So there you have it. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns feel free to use the section below to submit them to me for review. I was actually quite amazed how many people aren't even aware of these laws of the restroom. If I can do my part to keep you from doing something ignorant and disgusting, by all means allow me to do so. Jackals.



The Mario Lopez Plane Trip...

There are few people on the face of this planet that actually bring my piss to a boil like these particular individuals. Actually there's only three: Rosie O'Donnell, Simon Cowell, and Mario Fucking Lopez. These people make me want to destroy all lifeforms on this planet for the greater good of my sanity. But seeing that this experience is about Mario Lopez, I'm going to go ahead and focus on him, because he's an arrogant douchebag hack.

I'm ready for my facial, Mr Deville.

How do I know that Mario Lopez is a talentless hack? Easy. There's a place in entertainment for people who suck at everything but have somehow been in the public eye long enough by mostly taking shitty cameos so they're not forgotten. They may have had one good run, and that one experience will always make them a face everyone remembers. So what is this one place that Hollywood sets aside for these no-talent fuckwads that they can't get rid of? They make you a host on a subpar television show. This is why Mario Lopez hosts “Entertainment Tonight.” He's just good enough to talk about the lifestyles and funny hyjinx of celebrities who far surpass him in well........everything. Don't believe me? Look at Regis Philbin. The only reason that dipshit has work is because Dean Martin told studio execs decades ago that if they don't include Regis in some of his acts (and let him record an album), he wouldn't work either. I don't know why you did that Dean, but that idiot friend of yours who can't sing worth a shit is still on my television. Needless to say I just proved my point. What's funny to me though is how awesome Lopez THINKS he is. I know it's because America sucks his cock and all, but what can I say. America loves douchebags. I mean, didn't I just write about Jersey Shore like two articles back?

So lets rewind a bit to McCarran Airport on a very somber day in our American history, 9/11. Yes, I chose to fly back to California on this particular date to visit a sick uncle and spend a few days with my mother. Despite my laundry list of character defects I still TRY to be a good son. So as I'm sitting there with my Nook, doing some reading of Tucker Max's new book, “Assholes Finish First” (why couldn't he be on my plane instead?) an eerie feeling suddenly came over me. I looked up, and there he was, talking to the kiosk desk for Southwest inquiring about a flight. (Yes folks, Mario is so successful he flies Southwest like the rest of us) I made the look that white guy gave in the Chapelle Show when Dave said, “Play the fight rif!” in the fancy restaurant right before the mosh pit started. He's at the 3 minute mark of the below video if you want a visual of what I looked like.

Chappelle Show: Dancing for Different Cultures - watch more funny videos

I asked God and any other heavenly deities that if I have to suffer being this close to this gargantuan jagoff, that they at least spare me from riding on the same plane with him back to Burbank, California. However, yet again, it seemed that I would be the product of a cosmic gag reel. Fifty minutes of laugh out loud hysterics. In hindsight I couldn't think of anyone recently I had fucked over, so upon my trip back to Vegas I started being a bigger asshole than usual, but that's neither here nor there.

Time to board the plane and I still felt myself in the presence of douchebaggery of the highest accord. I was unaware as to why I felt this way until I boarded and saw that jerry-curled dimple demon sitting in the front of the plane. Because Southwest has a “sit anywhere you want” policy I decided to take myself to the very back of the plane. I knew that when we de-planed in Burbank, I would be allowed to exit from the back as well as the front. Fine, good, great, I'm heading all the way to the back....and getting hammered. Mr Jack Daniels, I put myself in your capable hands sir.

There's a reason I hate flying to LA and I will explain why. When you're on a plane with a bunch of people flying there, you realize just how many fucking douchebags actually live there. This is actually one of the reasons I left that fucking shithole city. Besides the traffic, the asinine cost of living, and the souless women there, I can't stand douchebags. So guess who decides to sit next to me? Yeah. A douchebag and a fucking hippy chick. If I didn't know that striking this man would be a federal charge and instant jail time, I would have turned his face into hamburger meat and left the bloody corpse on the tarmac after exiting. Unfortunately I didn't have that luxury.

As soon as the chick sits down and I saw that she was moderately attractive, I fuckin' knew what was coming next. First off without either of these idiots saying two words, I knew that she was a vegan. No meat for her, that shits murder! I also knew that this guy was going to play the “Hollywood card” and brag about shit he doesn't even do in the hopes of exchanging numbers with this vaginal campaign promise of worldly goodness and etiquette. I knew it. I lived in LA my whole life, I can spot these assholes a mile away and now I had two sitting right next to me. Thanks again God and baby Jesus, for putting me in the perfect scenario to which I'm unable to act accordingly.......or did you?

The correspondence eventually starts because the conversation piece was already present. She was eating a salad from Baja Fresh, and LA people LOVE their health food! Words were spoken:

Douche: “So, it looks like you enjoy eating healthy.”

Hippy: “Oh yeah, I just couldn't imagine eating any other way. There's so much obesity in America and people just stopped caring about their bodies, I can't even believe it.”

Really bitch, did you just say that as the first thing to come out of your mouth? Of course Mr. Douche jumps on the bandwagon.

Douche: “Oh my gosh, you're telling me! I can't believe some of the people I see eating fried chicken and all those trans fats out there. Where did we go wrong!? Haha.”

Dom.....wants.....to........kill.......everybody. Starting with these two.

Douche: “So what do you do?”

Hippy: “Oh, I'm still in college, majoring in nutrition! Haha.

(Big surprise bitch, didn't see that one coming.)

Douche: “Wow, so this really is a life decision for you. That's amazing!”

Hippy: “So what do you do?”

Douche: “Oh I'm actually working on a few things. I'm a writer but I'm also helping to produce this show on A&E with my buddy Mario Lopez called 'Saved By the Baby.' He's actually on the plane now, his wife is currently in labor. This is going to really end up being a great episode!”

Ok, so imagine one of three people on planet Earth you just can't stomach as an actual person. Get a mental picture in your head of this, now imagine you're stuck in a tube with seats, 25,000 feet in the air, breathing recycled air, and there's no escape. As the topping on this situational cake abortion, you have to sit there with the one persons whose mere existence makes you want to kick puppies in the faces........friends. Yeah, fuck you. Any and all karma has officially been paid in full. Check is in the mail bitch! I can punch a nun in the taint after this and I'd still have credit in my account.

The plane is dark because it is a night flight, (and just as an aside for my readers' future reference, if you want to fly somewhere, fly on 9/11. The airports are ghost towns. My flight wasn't even full and getting through security took less than 6 minutes, I timed it.) and I noticed our happy couple getting along swimmingly. The atmosphere for them is cozy so I did the only thing I could think of to piss them off. I turned on my reading light. Mr Douche didn't appreciate this.

Douche: “Thanks bro.”

Dom: “Oh you're very welcome precious. Let me know if I can do anything else that you may find as a mild irritant before we land.”

Douche: “Pffffffffffffffft, whatever man.”

I was grinning from ear to ear, and just so you all know she told him she had a husband before getting off later........twice. But after what seemed like an eternity in hell's waiting room, I heard the landing gear go down and the flight attendant announced that we would be landing in 10 minutes. Score! The end of this nightmare was finally concluding and I'd be able to get out of this sarcophagus of Hollywood horseshit and no-talent hacks! I could almost taste that smoggy Los Angeles air! Fate however, had different plans for me.

The plane lands, and as we pulled up to the gate the plane finally came to a stop. The airport gods decide to mock me once more as the flight attendants voice comes on the overhead:

Stupidbitchflightattendant: “We'd like to welcome you all to Burbank and would like to extend a special congratulations to Mario Lopez whose sitting up front with us tonight. We had the pilot get us here as soon as possible because Mario is currently on his way to the hospital because his wife just gave birth to his first child!”

The plane erupts in thunderous applause. If any of you have ever met or been around this douchebag you would know that he's a fucking arrogant prick, but I don't understand it. He's a D-lebrity at best. He was fucking AC Slater, that's it. What else has he ever done semi-noteworthy? Yet he walks around like he's king shit and thinks he's God's gift to women when he looks like one of the fucking members of that 80's Latin band “Menudo.”

Mario's gotta be related to at least one of these assholes

So fuck him, fuck him right in the ass. I can't stand most people in the entertainment field, but cocksuckers like this are the very worst kind. They never made it big, have no talent to move their career forward, enhancing their craft, yet they still expect to be treated like some kind of bullshit royalty. So needless to say, this was all I could take.

Dom: “Oh my God, who gives a shit! This is why I hate flying to this fucking city. If it's not a bunch of douchebags lying about who they are to impress women, it's a plane full of idiots applauding a no-talent hack for doing something all of us can do. Impregnating a chick.”

The scowls I got from everyone proved they didn't care for my rhetoric, so I explained it ever so briefly to them.

Dom: “Oh, you all are showing disdain for what I said. Do any of you honestly think that if you were on this plane, rushing to meet your wife at a hospital, that a flight attendant would get on a loud speaker and tell the rest of us your situation and actually congratulate you for it? No, she wouldn't.”

I started to see a lot of the guys actually lift an eyebrow and nod their head and I hastily departed the plane before I threw up from the flight of my discontent.

When you're heavily drinking on a flight to try and numb yourself, the first place you head to after exiting the plane is...........the head. I had to piss like a Clydesdale horse and I was actually trotting to the restroom. And then it happened.

As I was standing there emptying my bladder, I smelled a flowery cologne and turned to my immediate right and there he was. Out of everybody at the fucking airport, and out of all the other 7 urinals that could've been used, Mario Fucking Lopez decides to take a piss right next to me. To add insult to injury he fires off this gem:

MarioLopez: “What's up bro?”

Dom:.....................”nothing. I'm taking a piss.”

Guys, you should all know that you don't talk to strangers in the bathroom, at the urinal, when you're taking a piss. Ever................unless you're gay.

Just then his friends came into the restroom and it was a douchebag pissing symphony of bullshit. Mostly bragging about the “dumb bitches” they were gonna bang after they left him at the hospital and how cool their fucking Iphones were or some shit. Fuck! Why!? Why me!? I wanted to tell him how big of a douche he was and how much of a no-talent hack he is and how he should be working a normal job, but I was just too overwhelmed from all that happened thus far I just ended up yelling “faggots!” as I was walking out of the bathroom. I know, I know. What the fuck. Tell me about it.

My mother picked me up at the airport and saw how fucking pissed off and irritated I was.

Mom: “Honey, what's the matter? You look awfully upset?”

Dom: “Mario Lopez happened mom. He was in my terminal at the airport. Then he got on my plane. Then I had to sit next to one of his douchy friends and some idiotic hippy bitch eating a salad the whole way here. I've never wanted to beat someone in a pleather jacket as bad as this mother's mistake sitting next to me. God I hate California.”

Mom: “I don't care for him much either, but I don't know why you hate him so much.”

Yes well, that turned into a tirade of explanation and I became the proprietor of hate on the way to my mother's house that night. Either way, as you all well know, I can't make this shit up. It happens to me all the time, and of course I will write about it for your entertainment. Goodnight.

Author's note: Many many years ago, one of my best friend's brothers was at a place called the Crocodile Cafe in Burbank. Our antagonist Mario Lopez was there that day with a few of his buddies as well. This was well back into his “Saved by the Bell” days and if you think he's arrogant now, you should've seen him back then. Evidently he said something to my friend that was certainly 'fight worthy' and so my friend called him a pretty boy bitch and conjectured as to his sexuality. They all went outside and as luck would have it, my friend who shall remain nameless as usual, kicked the ever living shit out of Mario Lopez in the parking lot after Mario attempted to throw the first punch. Even more to Mario's chagrin his friends mopped the floor with Mario's friends. If not for knowing this prior, I may have just snapped after I got off that plane. But I took solace in knowing that Mario and company have had the shit kicked out of them before, and that as Robert Frost once said, “has made all the difference.”

For those of you who still think I may be lying about Mario Lopez and his massive douchebaggery, I have also included some web links to further illustrate this doctrine of thought:

Beet Gossip's Opinion

Mario Lopez takes picture with his mistress by a homeless guy

Perez Hilton's also a bitch but he did cover Lopez ducking out on a fundraiser for children

Mario says his wife isn't hot enough to stand next to him; forces her to get surgery

If you still don't want to punch this asshole in the face next time you see him gallavanting around the streets of LA, I don't know what more I can say. I've already chewed him up and spit this motherfucker out, as is the norm around these parts.