What do Bikini's and My Grandpa's Birthday Have in Common?

Hello Mind Readers, I miss you so bad sometimes it hurts. Sorry, about the delay in my post. It is a long story. Basically I was hiking in the Catskill Mountains, and I came across this strangely dressed man playing nine-pin. He gave me a drink of his liquor, and I settled down under a shady tree only to fall asleep. I woke up and I fond that I had a giant beard then I checked my blog and found that over a month had passed sense my last post. (Wait.. What, no I didn't realize that is what happened to Rip Van Winkle in Washington Irving's 1819 classic. No, I didn't realize that this was an abbreviated version of the abbreviation on the Rip Van Winkle Wikipedia page.) Thats awkward, well (changing the subject) here is what is on my mind.

Have you heard of Bikini Barista's? Basically what it is a Starbucks, but instead of a green Starbucks aprons the attendants wear bikinis. This is how an accidental near visit nearly ruined my life. To protect the innocent I'm not going to tell you the names of the people I was with, but I was with my parents. We were headed off on a trip to celebrate my Grandpa's birthday, and the driver needed a caffeine fix in order to make the long trip. I was minding my own business while engaged in a battle scene of "Eclipse" from the Twilight Epic when I noticed that the coffee sign had a proactively clad lady bumblebee. Then I had a couple uncomfortable ideas 1) Am I attracted to a bumblebee? 2) More importantly am I in the drive-through for a Bikini Barista with my family? I honestly couldn't see anyway how this situation could turn out well so I quickly alerted the family to our predicament. I thought that as soon as I mentioned the uncomfortable situation my family blush and zip out of the drive-through without a second thought. This was not the case.

My parents sat their for a few minutes debating if we should stay in line. They said we were already running late and already waited in line for a few minutes. The fam was actually considering going through with this regardless of a free show. I did some quick thinking and made up a story about how this type of thing could scar a guy for life, and told them they probably wouldn't ever have any grandchildren if we didn't 86 this shop. Luckily, my Mom wants grandchildren so she bought my story and we headed to Starbucks.

The drive-through was packed so we decided to go inside. I didn't want anything because on long family car-rides coffee gives me the jitters and I get irritated easily. Come to think of it I'm not sure it's actually the coffee. ( I know what your thinking try 5 Hour Energy, but I can't drink that because I hate peeing my pants. That poison should be sold as diuretic. One time I drank one and instantly started peeing luckily in the bathroom, and as I was washing my hands I already had to pee again.) Back to Starbucks so, I sat down on one of the heavily used couches (did they steal those from under a homeless person), put on my new glasses, and picked up the nearest loose piece of newspaper. I noticed a very attractive and familiar girl walking towards me. A former crush, walked up to me and said, " Hey, Justin how are you? I like your new glasses they make you look very intelligent." I was taken off guard so in a goofy voice I replied, "Danks. I good." After my smooth response we simultaneously realized that I was reading the comic section and it was upside-down. I wasn't sure, but as she walked away I doubted that she still thought my glasses made me look intelligent. Special, but not intelligent. At least I didn't have a six hour car ride ahead of me to think about why a former crush would always be just that a former crush. We finally made it to my Grandpa's house and explained our adventure at the Bikini Coffee Shop and why we were nearly an hour late. His response, "Did you remember the shops address so you can go back later?"

Well thanks for reading again Mind Readers, and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

If this is Sight... I rather be blind.

Yo Yo Yo... Mind Reader, Pon De River (Jamaican accent with Reggi music in the background) That probably won't be as funny to you as it was to me because you can't actually hear it. Isn't hearing amazing certain sounds can just make you laugh like a toot or a Justin Bieber song (yeah thats right I said toot.) Then we have smell which can be a good or bad thing much like all the other senses. One of smells lowest points was in Michale Todd Jr's 1960 "classic" "Scent of Mystery" a Smell-O-Vision classic. Yeah Smell-O-Vision was a real thing at one point Google it. It didn't really take off though because they mixed up the scent of the comedic bathroom scene with scent for the scene of the first kiss. Yeah it was bad at least it wasn't Taste-O-Vision.

Well speaking of senses I want to talk about my favorite sense, sight. Sight can be a double edged sword. Sight has blessed me with images like a beautiful girls face and exotic sunsets. Sight has also scared me with images of a fat guys harry plumber's butt and public park restroom stalls (I cleaned bathrooms one summer.) Overall, I would have to say that the benefits of sight far outweigh the disadvantages of sightlessness. Apparently most people tend to agree because there are these very scary doctors who dedicate their lives to keeping people's eyes healthy. I recently went to the "eye doctor" and had no idea what discomforts were awaiting.

I arrived at the office and every one was suspiciously nice. The entire office was a vibrant white. Then the assistant called my name and "it" began. The reception room had all been a facade because the assistant led me to a dark torture chamber. She had me sit down and told me to look into a very complex looking machine. Suddenly, the machine shot air into my eye, and I fell out of my seat in fright. The lady did this about fifty times in each eye because "she couldn't get a good reading due to my extreme reactions." (I'm sure.) Even though I knew a tiny gale force winds was heading towards my eye, it made me jump every time (like the scene in "Mars Attacks" when you see Sarah Jessica Parkers face.) After further eye tortures, she led me into a room where the Optometrist would see me.

An balding middle aged man walked into the room and without saying anything started prodding at my eyes. Then he said, "My name is Ted, I work across the street at Jiffy Lube the doctor will see you soon." (Just kidding that didn't happen, but that is the only way things could have been worse.) He actually said, "Can I dilate your pupils?" I agreed and as the doctor was putting drops in my eye he said, "You don't have to do anything for a few hours right?" Thats when I had a miny panic attack. What does that even mean? All he did was put a few eye drops in. No big deal right? Then I understood what he had meant as I was texting my Mom to let her know I was getting my eyes checked. When I received her response it resembled a blur. And yes I do mean it resembled a blur. My vision was so blurry that the blurryness was blurry.

Next, the doctor decided to shine concentrated sunlight into my extremely sensitive eyes. Once he had ran out of ways to make my eyes burn he said I was free to go. I don't know why I decided to drive home considering I was having trouble reading the "Exit" sign above the door. (B-@-L-T <-- dramatization of what the exit sign looked like.) As I walked out the door the receptionist handed me what looked like a fruit roll-up, and she told me to wear it because my eyes would be sensitive to the sun. This was an understatement. I instantly regretted my decision not to put on the fruit-snack shaped sunglasses until I got in my car. My eyes were burning so bad that I started crying tears of blood. I felt like one of the vampires from Twilight on a sunny day. My face must have looked like Renee Zellweger does whenever she smiles (talk about squinting.) Somehow in my Mr. Magoo like state, I made it home. Next time I will definitely have to consider if sight is worth it before going to the Tortraumatrist.

Good to see you again "Mind Readers," and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

Is This Real Life...

Dear Mind Readers,

I do not know if this is a good thing, but the USA has seven gold medals in the special Olympics. We are in second place behind Russia. It is nice to know that our special people are among the best in the world. Thanks to my good friend Dennis for that prospective. Here's what is on my mind today.

If I counted the number of hours I have spent watching television, movies, commercials, and YouTube videos it should be no surprise sometimes it feels like I can't have original experiences. (I counted the hours. It is exactly 33,488 hours.) We love to compare things in our life to situations that we see in the media. At times we even inadvertently see the media playing itself out in our day to day lives. A prime example of this was when I saw two old people driving down a California Highway in a convertible. I wanted to think, "Wow what a cute old couple!" ; instead, I started humming the song from the Cialas commercials. Then I pictured the two of them holding hands in separate bathtubs while watching the sunset as the announcer said, "If you have a (you no what) lasting longer then four hours see a doctor immediately." (Was that really necessary, who isn't going to the doctor in that situation?)

Later that same day I went to the pet store. I was in the reptile section and saw a Gecko, and asked him, " How to save 15% or more on my car insurance." Then I was in the "not usually found in pet-stores" section and saw a full grown duck. I stubbed my toe really hard and I was hurt and had to miss work. The duck wouldn't shut-up and kept quacking, "Aflac." These are the same thoughts that make me say, "I'll be back," in an Austrian accent whenever I leave home. Here is another prime example of the medias effects on my mind. Is it just me or whenever you are getting screwed big-time do you look around for hidden cameras and start thinking that your on Punk'd. i.e. I made a special trip to Wendy's to get five crispy nuggets for a dollar. I got up to the cash register and told cashier my wish only to find out they were out of nuggets. Are you kidding me? Wendy's out of chicken nuggets? Thats like Chevron running out of gas or an Old Country Buffet running out of fat people. It just doesn't happen. So, I started looking in the ketchup bin for hidden Punk'd cameras. Actually turns out there was a salmonella outbreak earlier that day. I have never been so glad not to get chicken nuggets because someone else got Punk'd with salmonella, Snap!

Aight, Mind Readers thanks for reading and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

The Second Worst Night of My Life

Mind Readers!!! If you like my blog tell your friends to follow JHarpsMind. Also feel free to check out my "fine" sponsors below (most of them are about alcoholism and anti-flatulent meds, don't ask me why. The websites are always worth a laugh or two.) For real though why does Google put ads on my blog for horrible things (Hellshire Funeral Home, Last Resort Drug Addict's Resort, Oops I Crapped my Pants Adult Diapers?) Anyways, maybe if I talk about something more positive the ads will be more pleasant. That is why I want to talk about Terrorism.

I recently went on a solo roadtrip through the Westcoast aka the Best Coast. After driving 12 hours through California, listening to the best hits of the 90s such as Alanis Morissette's Jagged Litle Pill, I decided I needed to stop somewhere to sleep. I stopped at a Quality Inn, and found out a room was going to cost me about 80 bucks. I told the clerk that there was no way I was going to spend that much money for six hours of usage unless it came with a free room service and a badai toilet. I realize this was a little extreme, but I really had to illustrate the insanity of her prices. She replied, " No, but there is free breakfast." Needless to say I kept driving and found a sign that said "Single room $35." I was so excited because I could spend $40 on breakfast and still save money. I rang the night bell and a cranky bearded man came to the window. There was something strange about this guy, but I had woke him from his slumber so I let it slide. I silently gave him my credit card and our awkward transaction was complete. But as he ran my credit card I noticed something very unsettling.

In the corner next to the register I saw a poster written in Arabic. I thought to myself, "Cool this place is multicultural." After a closer look, I noticed that the pictures had a bunch of of heavily bearded guys smiling with guns, but they were in civilian robes and turbans instead of military uniforms. "Ok", I thought "well maybe it is a gun club." Then I saw little clip-art illustrations of AK-47's bordering the poster. Where did they get did they get AK47 clip art, Microsoft Cave the Terrorist addition. I can't read Arabic, but I could just tell that the sentences were angry. My fears were compounded by the fact that I had just watched "The Kingdom" where Jason Batemen gets kidnapped by terrorists. The clerk came back handing me a key and the remote, and I walked to my room.

I entered the room and it was just as terrifying as the poster. Every inch of the floor was sticky. The carpet felt like Velcro, and the tile felt like the soda soaked and candy coated floors of opening night of The Land Before Time 10. The walls were paper thin, and I could hear the guy above me breathing. There wasn't even a window in the room there was just a hole with curtains. To my suprise in the top drawer there was a Gideon International Bible (Those people are amazing! Somehow they infiltrated the Green Zone and placed a Bible in my room. Lets get those guys to find Bin Laden.)

I wanted to leave so bad, but the clerk was already pissed at me for waking him up at 2am. He looked like he had already had a bad day, and he might snap at any moment. Plus he had my credit card information and address. I wanted to be as forgettable as possible. I texted a bunch and told them to avenge my death as if this would keep me safe. I remember my last thought before finally falling asleep was, "I'm across the street from an Outback Steakhouse. There is no way that a terrorist act could happen next to that much beef." Worst sleep of my life! Luckily, the guy had kindly placed me in the room closest to the highway. Every few minutes I would wake up to the sound of a passing car. I thought at any minute I was going to get kidnapped, and I would be the subject of one of those ransom videos people send to the 60 minutes. I could just imagine Rosie Perez watching 60 minutes and saying, "Thats what you get for staying in a $35 hotel, stupido." At 7 O'clock I quickly gathered my belongings, and without showering I started driving as fast as possible towards home. I had survived.

Mind Readers, I hope you enjoyed reading about one of the worst night of my life. Thank you for reading, and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

That is Awkward

HELLOOOO MIND READERS!! Good to see you again.

My life can be best described as a series of awkward moments with random events in the middle. Awkwardness is a state of mind. Once you believe that something is awkward it instantly evolves into a uncomfortable situation. Other people can make you feel awkward even if they don't realize it (like when an old lady farts next to you in the grocery store.) Yet some people just don't get embarrassed and that embarrasses me. For example the entire cast of the Jersey Shore. (That is officially the last time it is okay to use the Jersey Shore as an example. We get it they are ra-tards.) I get embarrassed easily. I think I am awkward therefore I am.

Today (two weeks ago when I started writing this) I had quite an awkward moment. I was driving down a busy road around lunchtime, and there was a shaker dancing on the corner. A "Shaker" is one of those guys who dresses up in a costume and holds a sign that says things like, "Mattress Muuunday Sale!!"or "Professional Bull Riding, This Saturday, Get Some. Don't be a Steer." (I have been on the Job boards lately, I applied to wear the Red Robin suit to promote their lunch specials. At tryouts I found that I am extremely claustrophobic.) Anyhow, I was passing by a tax preparation place and there was a "guy" dressed as the statue of liberty. I felt bad for the guy... for one second. But the guy started doing a little dance in my direction, and at the end he did a spin and gave me the suck-it motion. I knew he did it on purpose because he was looking deeply into my eyes as he hit either side of his crotchal region.

I couldn't believe my eyes, yet I knew that these transactions could not go unpunished. So I did what any other warm blooded American would have done. I gave him an emphatic middle finger. I instantly regretted this decision because as I gave him the bird the light changed to red. AWKWARD! I had to spend the next minute pretending like I had merely raised my finger to sooth a really bad knuckle itch. As his furious glare that was compounded by the frustration of minimum wage bore into the side of my head, I nervously sing-along to "Party in the USA." Luckily in that moment Miley Cirus's lyrics comforted me as I nodded my head like "Yeah." I knew one day I would look back at this moment and laugh. It would be just another awkward memory like the time I farted in an elevator and the smell made me puke. (Did that really happen?)

Thanks for reading my blog even after that crazy hiatus. Come back soon because I have a lot of new material from my road-trip to California. Thanks again for reading, and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

White or Wheat?

Hello "Mind Readers," yes I have eight followers. Movin' on up! (Cue the Jefferson's theme song) No, I'm pretty excited we have about 400 views. Lets keep the momentum going. On a low note today I ran out of sandwich material so I decided to go all "Build-A-Bear" on my sandwich. The end result was an imitation crab-meat, green olive, Swiss cheese spread, and mustard gut-bomb. I instantly regretted my decision to consume this 5 cent footlong. Not even my hero Giada de Laurentiis could have salvaged my "Everyday Unemployment" meal (for those of you who don't watch the Food Network that is a reference to Giada's show "Everyday Italian").

What makes a sandwich a sandwich?.... There is an 83% chance whatever you said is wrong. The answer is bread, bread makes a sandwich. Speaking of bread I have an awesome story about this tasty wheaty miracle. At first glance it appeared to be a bread free night. My friends and I ate Chinese food for dinner. Then we headed to the ball park. Now if you ever go to a minor league baseball game on a Thirsty Thursday just assume things are going to go nuts at some point. I don't know if it was the Asian streaker, the funniest type of streaker, but crazy things started happening like I was in an M Night Shamalan movie. After the streaker, they stopped serving beers, and the announcer said, "Thanks to our sponsor Wonderbread for hosting this evenings activities. Don't forget to pick up your free loaf of bread on your way out." I didn't think things could get any crazier, then a midget in a clown suit punched me in the nads.

Despite my suspicions that the apocalypse was upon me, I knew I couldn't turn down a free loaf of bread. I got in line, and as I got closer to the front they started running out. I was really craving french toast, so when the guy in front of me looked to the side I cut him. Then I pulled a move like Aladdin in the marketplace and grabbed the last loaf. I quickly ran to my seat as a brawl broke out between a pregnant lady and a couple of geriatrics. The upper deck started clearing out, and I decided that I didn't really need to carry around a 98 cent loaf of bread. I ran down the aisle and threw the loaf to my friend. We started playing this incredible game of bleacher catch until my buddy threw the loaf down a few aisle too far. The white bread promptly hit the white head of a tatted-out guy. (I don't know if you have ever been hit by bread, but generally it is during a joyous occasion like a food fight, or standing in the front row of hot dog eating contest.) It was clear that this man had no joy, as he shot up in a roid-rage. He turned around threw the loaf of bread onto the field and screamed, "Who the hell hit me with processed wheat?" After his scary, yet accurate depiction of the events that had just transpired, we quickly exited the stadium. I escaped with my life, and that was the first time I pissed my pants due to bread.

Thanks for reading and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

Whats Your Addiction?

Hello "Mind Readers," Wow, I am so excited about speaking my mind to you all once again. Lately I have been bound by the addicting chains of the show "Intervention." It's that show on A&E where families impose interventions upon other family members, to help them overcome addictions. My mom was watching a marathon of this show, when I started getting super hungry. I was like, "Mom I need to have an intervention with you about watching this show", but I didn't say any of that. I just remember sitting down in front of the TV and blacking-out. I came to several days later in a rehab center. I just got home, and I can't stop checking A&E to see if Intervention is on. Intervention addiction is a real problem if you wet your pants on the couch, start eating Doritos, or start talking to your TV .....you too may be addicted to Intervention. The above may be signs of a serious problem, and you should kick yourself in the face immediately.

Whats your addiction? I would probably say that my addiction right now has got to be the Internet. I spend most of my day online looking for work, blogging, surfing the net, watching videos, updating my YouTube page, etc. I feel like one of those fat people from the movie "Wally" who just sit in front of the computer screen and roll around in their motorized chairs. If I had a compartment for Ramen and a bedpan, I would be fine with never leaving my desk. I'm not the only one who is addicted to the computer though. We all know people who are addicted to updating their status on facebook. Jimmy just woke up. Jimmy is eating soup. Jimmy really needs to pee. What is your problem? Update, Justin wishes the poke button would turn into the choke button. Honestly, facebook status is there so you can share things that people might find interesting, care about, or might make them laugh. Sorry Jimmy, but no one cares about your bowel movements.

Another group of people that suck is people who are addicted to posting negative comments on other people's YouTube videos. For example there could be a video of a toddler dancing. I could watch all two minutes and 35 seconds of the video and find that there is a little more joy in my life. Until, I scroll down to the comments section and JimmyHead69 say: "You are the gayest baby ever." The jerk always has the most ignorant name too, like SemoreBoobs14 or EricBallPuncher33. Why are you so insistent on being cynical and tearing others down Semore? I could make a video of myself doing a triple backflip off the Empire State Building. After landing I could save a baby from drowning in a shark tank. Then to top it all off, I could spit out the greatest pickup line in History to Megan Fox, and start making out with her. JimmyHead69 would still say: "You is a HoMO!@*!" What a Hater your misuse of grammar and punctuations is extremely offensive. Why can't you haters be addicted to something cool like finding "The Lost City of Gold," or making the worlds largest crepe. I got a joke for you haters. What has no friends? Any person who's YouTube name combines a first name, a body part, and a random number. Yeah that's you ImaAss167, Heyooooooooo!

Thanks for reading. To entertain yourself until my next post, do yourself a favor and make an "Ace of Base playlist" on YouTube. You won't regret it, and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

Scientific Observations of Drinking and Nudity

What up "Mind Readers?" Does it make me less of a man because I was bummed when I found out USA was playing 1998 Paul Newman and Susan Sarandon crime thriller Twilight instead of the 2008 vampire romance based off of Stephanie Meyers's critically acclaimed book. Don't answer that. Quickly change the subject, so do you like music? Anyways here is what is on my mind...

This weekend I had the pleasure of visiting Eastern Washington University. The nature of my visit was primarily social, but I found time to do field research for this post at the local bars. Upon arrival, I noticed that large groups of twenty-year-olds spontaneously gather to consume alcohol. Further observation reviled that the excessive consumption of these alcoholic beverages tends to make wise men act like fools. A conversation about quantum physics could quickly turn into a fart joke with the addition of alcohol. Alcohol can have wide ranging effects on various participants. Symptoms rage from anger and the impulse to fight (i.e. the popular television series "The Real World," which I find to be a very misleading name) to an escalated state of happiness and an overwhelming impulse to touch others. These actions are only magnified with each additional beverage the individual chooses to drink. Furthermore, I found that participant who paced themselves and refrained from over indulgence were ninety percent less likely to embarrass themselves in front of their peers.

There are also physical traits that seem common among those who enjoy going to, as they called it, "Drunk City." The top five physical characteristics are as follows 1) Male 2) Scruffy facial hair 3) Backwards baseball cap 4) Muscles masked by a layer of fat 5) Loud and annoying vocal outbursts. These individuals come from the family of humanoids best classified as douche-bag maxi-pad-a-mus which stems from the Latin word for Buttmunch. Although these are common characteristics, any homosapien is capable of taking a wrong turn into "Drunk City" which in metaphorical terms seems similar to a visit to Compton in the early 1990's. After extensive research, my advice for those who choose to "drink," in order to avoid decisions you may later regret drink responsibly. By acting accordingly one can safely stay within the suburbs of "Buzzed Town" and avoid any dangerous trips to "Drunk City."

A related subject that I have made observations upon in the past is nudity. Nudity is a very tricky subject because it's appropriateness is purely based on context. I will attempt to display the importance of context through several examples. Nudity can be funny or disgusting. The act of streaking among a group of peers is often times considered comical. Although I must voice this disclaimer, on two separate streaking experiments the presence of my bare gluteus maximus was deemed inappropriate by others involved in the experiment. A clear example of nudity being disgusting is doing the crab walk naked through a crowded mall. For clarity sake let me give you two more examples. Nudity can be cute or disgusting. If a baby is at the beach and a small dog pulls down his/her Pampers revealing a white buttux, it is considered cute. If an old man is in a locker room and decides to walk around without a towel exposing his especially wrinkly parts, it is considered disgusting.

I understand that the decision to expose yourself to the elements can be a tricky and hairy decision. Therefore here are three simple question you should ask yourself before dispelling any ones "unsolved mysteries" about what the stork saw. 1) Who is watching and will they enjoy the presence of new body parts? 2) Would I do this in a sane state of mind? 3) If I need to run will I be able to comfortably do so? If the answer is yes to all of these questions feel free to let it all hangout.

Thank you for reading my mind. Sorry, about the delay in posts. Finally, remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

If You're Gonna Be Dumb You Better Be Tough

Hello "Mind Readers!" Whats good?

You know what's NOT good? Watching people eat hot wings. Next time you go to a Chili's watch someone eat wings, and you will be disgusted. A little known fact, Hooters was invented for this very reason. The chain started out as Howters "A fine dinning wing establishment." They had high quality food and modestly clad servers. Everything seemed to be going well, yet the owners noticed people would arrive very hungry and order small portions. Patrons would lose their appetites after seeing others devouring wings. The owners realized that they needed to divert peoples attention away from the grotesque display of wing eating. A light bulb turned on, lets scantly clad our well endowed servers, and Hooters was born. Wing consumption increased by over 5o% despite the downgrade in meat quality. There is your history lesson for today, but more importantly here is what is on my mind...

I awoke from my dream last night in a cold sweat. I had been imagining that I was on the show "Yo Mamma." My opponent was professional scariest man alive Kimbo Slice. Now if you find yourself facing Kimbo in the showdown of "Yo Mamma" you are in a lose-lose situation with only two options. Option 1: Say something nice about Mrs. Slice and humiliate yourself on MTV in front of millions of mouth breathing teens. Option 2: Tell the best "yo mama" joke ever conceived, but recieve the worst beating since Nicole Richie fought American Gladiator Sharon VanderHorst. Of course, I choose to succeed comically and told the best yo mama joke EVER. "Your mama's so fat that when she cut her face shaving; instead of bleeding, Gravy came out." As Kimbo angrily charged, I woke up crying in the fetal position.

This near tragedy left me wondering, what would happen if I got in a real fight? Aside from a massive open fisted slap in 6th grade, I've never really been in a fight. Although, I never have taken part in fist-a-cuffs my life is like a constant training session. Any chance I get, I punch brick walls and metal polls in order to break my knuckles and make them larger and harder. Every other day I shadowbox for two hours to the song "Maniac" from the movie Flashdance. Finally, bi-weekly I eat healthy foods like fruits and vegetables. Even though my life is like warrior training, I still consider myself a lover not a fighter (That is just a special way to say I'm afraid to fight.) Since I hate fighting, I guess the best way to avoid a brawl is by appearing tough.

So What are some things I could do to look tougher? Everybody says people look "hard" with shaved heads. Unfortunately, because of my pail complextion I could easily be confused for a skinhead. This would be counter productive and cause me to get a check-up from the neck-up. Another option is getting a tattoo. The only problem is, I either want a picture of my goldfish "JarJar Binks" who recently passed away or a quote from vampire saga Twilight. Nope. Maybe I could come up with a tough guy walk, but last time I tried that people thought I was handicapped. I guess I'm not capable of looking tough. But honestly, unless you are a cast member of Jersey Shore, there is no reason for a twenty-two year old to get into a fight (over an Ed Hardy shirt.) I'll stick to blogging.

P.S. Dave from Famous Dave's looks like a Native American Al Roker. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLcL1CK4Hgc

Thank you. Don't forget to follow me here on my blog. Also, follow me on Twitter at http://twitter.com/JHarpsMind to see my mini mind posts, and to be the first to know when I post on JHarps Mind. Finally, remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

Pet Peeves and Man Periods

Yo what up my "Mind Readers?" Hope you are having a good weekend. People keep asking me about "The Nick," and aside from being very visible, it is healing nicely. I have avoided going out in order to dodge awkward explanations about my face wound. I did chill with Chris Brown at the mall though. I figured I wouldn't have to explain my facial lacerations walking next to him. Anyway enough about my lackluster physical appearance, here is what is on my mind...

I don't know if I'm on my man period or what, but little things have been really irritating me lately. That is why I wanted to talk about my pet peeves. You know the little things that don't bother normal people. If you mention these things though, people start questioning if you are the Zodiac Killer. First pet peeve is pet pee. I have had multiple days ruined by pet pee. Exhibit A, I had just bought a brand new pair of basketball shoes, and I went over to my friends house. He had one of those stupid "Please take your shoes off. We think we are Haywain because we went there once," stickers on the door. I decided to be polite and honor the families requests. A few hours later I returned to my shoes to find that they were saturated in cat pee pee. I mean that cat must have been collecting its urine in a vat for a special occasion, and that occasion presented itself upon the arrival of my new kicks. The cat must have been drinking Red Bull all day (You know how when you drink Red Bull, and you instantly get a wet spot in your pants because you have to pee so bad.) Sorry one more, there was enough cat pee for Bear Grylls to survive several days in the Sahara without water. Needless to say, I was "pissed." I was also involved in a similar situation, but it had a twist. I scared a dog at my friend Evans house, and he (the dog) just let loose all over the carpet. I would have been angry, but the dog licked all of his own pee up. It was awesome.

I would have to say my number one pet peeve of all time is when people make noises in situations that should be quiet. The main reason for that is probably because I am distracted very easily. Wait one sec I just got poked on Facebook........... Oh ok sorry. I alluded to it in a previous post, but a prime time for me to be peeved is at the movie theater. I recently went to see "Avatar" and the theater was pretty empty. Luckily, a man with small children decided to sit in front of me with a Man vs. Food bag o'popcorn. I didn't recognize them as they walked in, but it turned out to be Cap'N Crunch and his crunch berry children. Those little jerks were chewing with their mouths open the entire movie. In retrospect they may have been eating a bag of jawbreakers. It was so loud that I have no idea what the movie was about. I think it was about hot smurfs, but I'm not exactly sure.

Another time people like to disturb my peace is at the library. I was recently at the "libs" doing some research to see if the compelling story of "Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeaqle" was indeed based on a true events. The evidence was inconclusive. Like most situations that call for quiet, I chose a spot were I was secluded from human contact. It doesn't matter where I go, the loudest most inconsiderate person will find and pick the seat right beside me. I could find a table in the back of the building next to "MC Hammers: Finances Made Easy" and "that person" would still find me. It is always a guy with a 1st generation iPod, and he doesn't realize that he can turn off that clicking sound that plays out loud, even with headphones on. So they scroll through their 8 billion gigs of songs and it sounds like someone is playing Wheel of Fortune in your head. A half hour later they finally decide on a song. They end up picking an outdated and annoying artist like Hoobastank (that's just fun to say Hoobastank.) For some reason his earphones never work well so it sounds more like the megaphone at an abortion rally. I have to sit there and listen to "Roxane" on repeat, and then I get really mad because I start singing along (You Don't Have to Wear that Dress Tonight.) Now an hour has passed, the storm has settled and they whip out a Snickers Bar. The packaging seems to made of some sort of space shuttle siding because he can never figure out how open it. He keeps fiddling with it like a slow person trying to work his zipper at the urinal. Two hours have passed and the Snickers Bar crisis has reminded me that I am starving. At this point I am forced to abort the mission. Hopefully tomorrow will not be full of pet peeves.


That is all for today. Thanks again for reading. I love you all and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

Never Use a Generic Brand Razor, "The Nick"

Hello "Mind Readers" hopefully I can get through this post. I just finished a pepperoni Lean Pocket, and I can't get the taste of wet dog out of my mouth. I just poured myself a glass of half Pepto-Bismol and Listerine so hears what's on my mind...

Today started out without incident.I have an interview tomorrow so I decided it was time to shave my Grizzly Adams beard into something more professional (A Fu Mancho.) Let me just start by saying I hate shaving. I can't figure out how to shave without looking like I went face first through a blackberry patch. I guess that is what I get for buying the cheapest brand "Face Peeler." The warning label says, "Unsafe for use on humans. Please consult a surgeon before handling. Regardless, my face was looking nice and feeling fresh this time until "The Nick."

It happened when I started to shave my sideburns, and my razor blade caught on my cheekbone. This wasn't your run of the mill shaving mishap. Oh no, I almost hit bone. I instantly started feeling lightheaded because of my extreme blood loss. I mean, I sat down and started writing my will because I was afraid that I could bleed-out any second. Ok, maybe that is a slight exaggeration, but I have an interview tomorrow. How am I supposed to look professional when I look like I just went six rounds with Ali? I knew it wasn't a good sign when I walked into a room, and my family asked, "What happened to you?" I can only guess what my the lady interviewing me will think of monstrous laceration on my face. She might think 1) I broke into a zoo and tried to steal the lions. 2) I attempted grand theft auto by breaking the window with my face. or 3) I was hitting on a UFC Fighter's girlfriend. No matter what, in her head I might as well have just pooped my pants mid-interview.

This is why my shaving catastrophe is a worst case scenario. As I mentioned, in a previous post, never trust a man in a trench coat. The same goes for a man with a large cut on his face. Unfortunately, there are so many other situations where having an ugly gash on your face would be awesome. For example you are running late for your girlfriends birthday. If you walk in with a huge gaping wound on your face nobody is going to question your tardiness. They will just be thinking, "Wow, what happened to him. I surprised he made it here at all. He must have been attacked by a wild puma or a mugger with a machete." Other times it would be awesome to have a massive wound on your face include: An audition for a 007 movie, a night in jail, and a very competitive game of chess. Years from now my friends will ask me if I remember "The Nick?" My response will be a sobbing, "Yes, The Nick is the reason I am still unemployed."

Hey thanks for reading again. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did check out my other posts. You can also follow me on Twitter at http://twitter.com/JHarpsMind Remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

Are You Going To Eat That...

Hello "Mind Readers" thanks for coming back to take a look inside of my head. Side note, I thought it was funny that google was putting up ads for funeral flowers and mortuaries because of my post about looking cool at funerals.

Lets get right into it. Here is what is inside JHarp's Mind...

So today I ordered some pizza from Pizza Hut. Quick shout out, right now you can get any pizza at Pizza Hut for 10 dollas. (Pizza Hut CEO Scott Bergren throw some advertising bucks my way. I'm broke.) Anyway, deal of the century right. The Ninja Turtles are rolling over in their graves. Yes, unfortunately the Ninja Turtles passed away several years ago. The excessive pizza consumption and poor living conditions of sewer life finally caught up with them. Who would have thought? Back to the story, so one of my buddies texts me, "What are you doing?" I excitedly told him about the excellent pizza wealth that had been bestowed upon me. He responds, "Are you going to eat that trash.. :( So bad for you." Thank you Jilian Micheals (from "The Biggest Loser" circa 2008, I'm obviously not eating this "trash" to jump start my new diet. I was flabbergasted at my friends response because a) I saw him scarfing down a double cheeseburger with a glass of eggnog the night before b) I didn't know he was an huge butt hole. I had no response for my portly companion that wouldn't compromise our friendship. His response did get me thinking though...

Why do Big people love to give health advice? Furthermore, why do large people love "The Biggest Loser?"

"Bigger" people giving health advice is like someone tweaking on crack trying to help a cigarette smoker quit. Don't get me wrong I'm no Spartan warrior, but no matter what nutritional advice, someone my size or larger gives me, I automatically discredit that information. A fat man could walk up to me and say, "Hey if you want to lose weight you should try eating more fruits and vegetables." My knee jerk response would be, "Haha yeah right, I'll definitely try that. It seems to be working for you." I know weight is a struggle and a big problem for a lot of people. I'm not trying to make fun of that, but typically people tend to avoid giving advice about things they struggle with. There is always that one hypocritical jerk no matter what the problem is, he/she has to get his/her two cents in. I'll start talking about eating unhealthy foods some random fat guy seems to magically appear out of thin air like a Leprechaun at the end of a rainbow. The guy always sounds as if he just finished the Boston Marathon, gasp, " I wouldn't eat that." Okay thank you, but it looks like you already did. I love everyone, but please don't come up to me while I'm enjoying my guilty pleasures just to tell me what not to eat. Especially if there are still crumbs from a deep fried candy bar on your face.

I find it funny that "large" people love to watch "The Biggest Loser." Even in my bigger days I was uncontrollably drawn to the show. I would finish ingesting a Taco Bell Grande Meal, and my first thought was, "Dang I really wish The Biggest Loser was on." Skinny people were thinking to themselves, "What did that fatty just say? Why would anyone watch trash?" I think big people are drawn to the show for the same reason dogs start freaking out when they see another dog on tv. Its like holy crap someone like me is on tv. Lets be honest aside from the guy on Lost and Rosie O'Donnell there aren't many BIG people on tv. This is why I devised a healthier way to watch the, "The Biggest Loser." Step 1: Buy exercise equipment. Step 2: Eat fruits and vegetables. Step 3: Look into the mirror.


Hey thanks everyone for reading. I love you all big and small. Remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

She Ruined My Movie Experience

Hello " Mind Readers," I'm glad your here to see how the world was laughing at me today. If you stumbled upon my blog looking for information about eating bananas or buying trench coats, sorry for your inconvenience. Regardless of why you are here, I hope you can laugh at the world in my mind.

Today I had the privilege of going on a cinematic journey as I watched, "The Book of Eli." However, my adventure was far from perfect. You are are about to travel through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into the wondrous land of imagination. Next stop, the Twilight Zone, I mean J Harp's mind... (Do do do doo, do do do do)

I promptly arrived at the theater 30 minute early to insure the acquisition of the perfect seat. You know the one behind the handicap row with the railing in front. I sat there to guarantee that a Yao Ming sized patron with a South Park cranium would not sit in my sight line. In these seats I'm also able to put my feet up until the usher comes in. At that point I quickly pretend like I'm merely crossing my legs. Once at my seat, I started playing the game of "This Seat is Taken." To play this game I pretend like I'm saving a seat for a friend that is running fashionably late. I continued playing this game until I saw a group of dime piece biddies walk into the theater. Suddenly my make believe friend canceled our plans, and I promptly removed my coat from the seat. My hope was that these young ladies would noticed the opening in my prime seating area. Unfortunately, at that very moment a haggard old lady and her husband swooped upon the seats. I had no time to resume my game of phantom reservations.

As soon as these events transpired, I knew that I might as well have been watching the movie in a nursery full of crack babies. This old lady had the faint sent of urine. This would later explain her obvious weak battler and frequent trips to the bathroom. As she started conversing with her husband, I noticed her voice and laugh precisely mimicked that of Fran Drescher from "The Nanny" circa 93. Never has anyone assaulted all five of my senses in such a short amount of time. Luckily for me, she also decided to do a running commentary of the entire movie. Her intuitive insight led me to believe that she was the John Madden of movie theater play-by-plays. At one point the main character bumped into and old sheet, and she said, "Wow, dust." Thank you Nostradamus. To top it all off, she had the "Man vs. Food" sized bag o' popcorn. The bag must have been made of rain sticks because every time she reached inside I thought I was in the middle of buttery thunderstorm. I literally was having trouble hearing the explosion scenes. Finally, I blacked out from my pent-up frustration, and woke up during the credits with no idea what had happened.

The movie theater, another one of the worlds cruel jokes. Thanks again for reading, and I hope you come back to read my next post. I think I will be about why BIG people love "The Biggest Loser" and giving health advice.

Love you all and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

Keep Laughing World

Hello "Mind Readers!"

That is how I'm going to refer to the people who read my blog (get it because my blog is called JHarp's Mind.) Well... I thought it was clever.

Today I had the pleasure of playing 18 holes of golf. Actually, there was nothing pleasurable about the outing at all. Believe it or not some people consider golf to be a fun or relaxing sport. I hardly find comfort in attempting to precisely hit a tiny ball hundreds of feet through the air while the eyes of your peers critically judge your every move. Talk about a super relaxing no pressure situation.

If the objective of the game was to hit shrubbery, small woodland animals, sand traps, and man made bodies of water I would have gone pro years ago. Five hundred and seventy golf balls later, I have decided to leave the real game of golf to the pros. After all Tiger Woods seems to have no trouble finding the "hoe." HEYYOOOO! Golf another one of the worlds cruel tricks.

Once again here is the world in JHarp's Mind:

Have you ever been to a funeral and thought to yourself, "I wonder if I look cool." Generally the answer is no. Your eyes are probably puffy from crying, there is crusty snot in your nose, and you are wearing uncomfortable and outdated dress clothing. Looking cool is obviously the top priority at your time of morning. Luckily for you, through the great teachings of cinema I have found ultimate way to standout at your next memorial service.

Step 1: Dress in all Black (preferably leather, but avoid latex.) Step 2: Make sure that it is raining. If the local weather forecast does not call for precipitation contact your local"rain man" stat. He will more then likely trade his services for beads or fire. (Hail or Snow will do in a pinch.) Step 3: Ride a Harley with no muffler through the middle of the gathering. Make sure to rev your engine near the elderly. Step 4: Show up during the middle of the service. (Ride around the block a few times if you are arriving in a timely manner.) Step 5: Watch the proceedings from a distance with sunglasses on. Feel free to cry because the rain will cover your tears. Also, if you choose to speak stick to shouting basic ambiguous questions like: "WHY?"

Come back soon there is so many horrible things that happen to me everyday, and these misfortunes are halarious.

I love you all, and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp

Gentlemen and Ladies... I am a Blog Virgin

Who am I?... PETEY PAB MOTHA... Wait, wrong guy, but I always wanted to say that ("Raise Up" Petey Pablo circa 2001.) Sorry if you didn't understand that refrence. Actually my name is Justin, and I graduated from a fairly prestigious university in Southern California. After spending well over ten times my lifesavings in tuition, I became the butt of a pitiless economic joke. I can't find a job because of my lack of experience, and I can't get experience because my lack of a job. The world can be quite the female dog at times. Which brings me to my point, the world plays cruel and unusual jokes on us everyday, and I'm not gonna to take it anymore. I will not stand up for myself; instead, I will sit down and "maturely" poke fun at the world that makes fun of me.

This is how the world is seen through JHarp's Mind:

I will never play the clarinet or eat a banana in public because it is impossible to do either while maintaining my masculinity (pause for visualization.) Yet you may be asking JHarp, " What if I'm starving to death, and a banana is my only option?" Well in case of a banana emergency there is a protocol that allows you to save face. Step 1: Clarify to anyone in the general vicinity that you are not "eating" this plantain you are "devouring it." Step 2: Scream savagely directly at the peel. Step 3: Without peeling, bite through the fruity treat like a grizzly chomping through a raw salmon. A delicious alternative to this process is directly placing the banana into a crepe and consuming. Crisis diverted.

Don't judge a book by its cover, unless that book is wearing a trench coat and a baseball cap. By wearing this garb you are saying, " I'm crazy and smell like the back of a fat ladies knee in August." It is the mullet of the fashion world. Side note, Is it just me or are you super jumpy whenever someone in a trench coat makes a sudden movement. Now there are exceptions to every rule, if you are from the 40's, staring in "Dick Tracy," or dressing up as Neo for Halloween feel free to wear a trench coat. Yet the only reason a person qualifies for wearing a trench coat and a baseball cap, is if he/she pushes a shopping cart full of cats and talks to to his/her self as he/she walks.

Well, I will leave you with that for today. Thanks for reading "JHarp's Mind." As a teaser, possibilities for the next topics include: looking cool at funerals, why crack heads love tattoos, and exploring why fat people love The Biggest Loser.

Thanks again and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

J Harp