Pop up DJ Booths

Spinning and sinning in sacred spaces

Is it me or does there seem to be a lot of pop-up DJ booths in this post-pandemic world we find ourselves in? For the last three years they have sprung up everywhere. It could be outdoors on a walking mall, in a coffee shop, or up on a mountain during a ski day après. Sometimes I’ll be walking in public, minding my business, and when I double back to where I started, I find DJ Evil Clown spinning records and mixing music. You think to yourself where in the motherfuck did this come from and how did this guy set up so fast? One moment it is a quiet street corner or eatery and the next there’s a crowd of 50 people raving to a local DJ in the middle of the day. How did this come to be?!?

I never got into the rave scene. I didn’t grow up on the East Coast, never rolled on molly at a rave, never dabbled in that culture. I always figured that electronica was reserved for hard chargers that partied hard till 6 am in dark rooms with neon lights. Now it’s in the public square from 1 pm until 7pm where the kids bounce and chill step to Daft Punk. I find the pop-up DJ booths that are taking over ski resorts and mountain villages are Eurotrash infiltrating our sacred American landscapes. It’s easy to set up a pop-up DJ booth and attract a local crowd with a mesmerizing flow state. If they can set up shop that easily in coffee shops midday, then they can do it anywhere. Be advised, you could be walking anywhere in the world and before you know it, you’ll find a DJ resampling and remixing some sick beats while the ravers reverberate.

Hiking in the backcountry of Moab, Utah last week I find what Edward Abbey described as desert solitude. Seeking out the arches along miles of slickrock, Eastern Utah is truly an inspiring landscape. Getting ready to have a nice quiet picnic with my fellow hikers the peace was shattered when DJ Jack Mormon Mafia decided to start blasting out his dub tracks that sounded like auditory diarrhea. I thought we were in the middle of nowhere but somehow a DJ hiked in his mixing equipment and 30 people showed up to his set. Now the sound is bouncing around the canyon walls and upsetting the delicate ecosystem. This once sacred space has now been violated by the likes of a bunch of pussy ass little ravers.

Needing a morning pick me up, I decided to get some breakfast at the McDonalds inside Walmart. After ordering some sausage egg McMuffins with cheese and hashbrowns I am startled to find a DJ set up behind me and starting his mixed track version of some Cardi B song. Before you know it both the McDonalds employees and patrons start throwing those dem hands in the air. Needless to say, I’m miffed and my breakfast is no longer fast food but rather slow-ass food, courtesy of DJ Mac Don Juan throwing it down at Mickey D’s in a Wal-Mart at fucking 10 am! Doesn’t this so-called artist and his fan base have anything better to do or better places to be?

Driving around in the next town over, for some better shopping options, I make my way over to the commercial zone part of town. Low and behold, cruising by the local Planned Parenthood, some hipster jerkoff has set up his spinning booth outside on the sidewalk next to the protestors. Playing his version of the Adele classic Rolling in the Deep he has attracted dozens of high school kids and young adults. It’s all legit since DJ Vasectomy got a permit through the city. And now he can play a 3-hour set next to the building where women go to euthanize the unborn.

Coming back from Montana the other week, I stopped by the highway rest stop south of Butte to drain the main vein. The rest area looked dead, but once I stepped foot in the men’s room there was a DJ booth and a crowd of 20 people jamming out to the latest trance hits. I couldn’t believe it. DJ Etadik was hypnotizing his immediate audience, and I simply had to leave since I tend to freeze up when I’m around people trying to pee. The sanctity of a highway rest area men’s bathroom had been violated and the shitty music defiled it.

Watching a dispatch from the killing fields of the Donbas, an embedded reporter is in the trenches with the Ukrainian Army. The senseless slaughter has gone on long enough ever since the NATO encirclement of Russia provoked a response from the Kremlin. During an artillery bombardment, followed by waves of Russian conscripts being mowed down by Ukrainian machine guns, a tight pants wearing hipster with an affinity for EDM snuck onto the battlefield and started spinning. Setting up his little DJ booth smack dab in the middle of a kill zone, the voiceless music resonates with the combatants. Ukrainian and Russian soldiers alike put down their guns and start dancing with each other. With the sun going down, glow sticks are introduced, and ecstasy pills are passed around to keep the combat killers rolling until the next sunup. This real-life scenario echoes the horrors of both WWI and WWII but with a DJ booth on the battlefield it helps lighten the mood.

At Everest base camp, on the Tibetan side, mountaineers from around the world and their climbing guides are jocking up to climb up Chomolungma. Taking inventory of their precious climbing equipment and checking their oxygen bottles one last time, these men and women are determined to make summit and safely descend. Writing last wills and testaments to loved ones, in the event they don’t make it out alive, reality takes ahold of this base camp. Fortunately enough for them, DJ Khaled has set up his turntables and starts mixing covers from 90s hip hop songs. Sneaking past CCP border guards and somehow lugging his musical equipment to altitude Khaled puts on the ultimate performance for the Western climbers and the porters. Making their way out of their monasteries, the Tibetan monks and several local goats converge on the set. Dishing out yak milk that’s spiked with ecstasy, the party goes on and on until first light of the next day.

In the Western Pacific, 2000 miles southwest of Hawaii, American stealth submarines are probing the Mariana Trench for signs of secret alien bases underwater. Intelligent extraterrestrial life is here on earth, and they keep to themselves thousands of miles below the surface of the Pacific Ocean. Looking through the ship’s sophisticated onboard cameras the commander sees evidence of some sort of port at the entrance of a cave. Upon closer inspection he sees some sort of underwater rave where DJ WASP WAP is going to town on her booth, sheltered by a prismed air bubble. Displaying decadence on the ocean floor the octopus aliens consume copious amounts of drugs, engaging in same sex make out sessions. Spotting James Cameron at the event, the Avatar director is enjoying himself as he is seen deep throating an alien tentacle. Realizing that this defies the laws of physics, the submarine commander is able to confirm that DJ booths can be set up anywhere in the world and churn out music for every bass head douchebag that walks this earth.

Pop up DJ booths. An amazing anomaly or a magnet for douchetards and cunt muffins? I will never know. I do have to give these DJs credit for their quick setups in public places and majestic backdrops. They’re like magicians. One minute, you go by a place with nothing there and the next there’s a full-on rave with DJ EZ Dick Cheney cranking out some top-notch beats. I’m not much of a fan of this scene or culture but I’ll give props to those hard-working DJs out there that get contracted for a gig and show up out of thin air. So, the next time you are in random ski village or an abandoned warehouse housing meth heads, always be on the lookout an impromptu pop-up DJ booth. They make the world go round.

Brian Ss

The Hard Truth About Hard Seltzers

Fizzy alcoholic beverages will help you get hard and stay hard

Hard seltzers have been all the rage in the alcohol industry for the last five years. Growing exponentially, the popularity of these sparkling alcohol waters is what the cool kids have been sipping on since 2020. With their fruity flavorings and high sugar content, this new age cheerleader beer can be found on any college campus and open bar at a corporate event. Leading the pack is the Canadian brand White Claw. With an alcohol volume of 5% and a 100 calories per 12 oz serving, is it any wonder that everybody wants to get their paws on a Claw? This market trend has been adapted by all Big Booze conglomerates and even craft breweries are cashing in on the craze. From Truly, to High Noon, to Kirland Signature’s Hard Seltzer every distributorship is making billions off of their customized spiked seltzers.

This trend is not new. In the mid-90s, Coors Brewing Company introduced Zima to the market. This carbonated alcoholic beverage’s slick marketing campaign presented it as an alternative to beer. Wine coolers were all the rage in the 80s, consumed by yuppie baby boomers when they were conspiring to swindle the wealth of future generations, but that product eventually ran its course. Pounding Zimas always resulted in a sugar uptake that wisped you away to a mountain village discotheque somewhere in the French Alps. Drinking them made you look sophisticated and surrounded by models. Sipping these with a Zulu Warrior would always make me go Zow. Zis hard zeltzer always made you more zexy when ziplining with some rando named Zane.

I’ve discovered that with their high fructose and sugar content that you can’t consume a lot of these beverages. You can really only have just one. It can be refreshing and give you a full body whoosh. Initially quenching your thirst, I usually need to cross over to beer after a single Black Cherry White Claw. That way I feel more manly and not so much as a dandy. Having a second one guarantees your psyche ponders thoughts of what it would be like to be bicurious. One minute you’re sipping on that second High Noon and the next you're fantasizing about kissing a dude by the pool. You may still think that you are a self-identified heterosexual but once your body absorbs more than 12 oz of Truly Strawberry Lime it dawns upon you that you are sexually attracted to Dennis Quaid. It ain’t full blown gay yet, but hard seltzers nudge you into exploring your sexuality. Once that third one hits your lips, you and 11 of your closest “guy-friends” pile into a limo on a one-way ticket to Gay Town.

When you are in your early 20s you are oftentimes ideologically confused. Listening to different mediums and trying to make sense of the world, weekends are usually reserved for getting fucked up at get-togethers. You and your “buddies” will usually procure a couple of cases of beer and head to a block party where there will be girls, beer pong, and perhaps some sand volleyball. Someone always has the bright idea to bring along at least a twelve pack of hard seltzers since not all hot chicks like beer. You think to yourself, hey those look tasty what’s the harm in drinking one? Before you know it, you’re on your second Mango White Claw with the taste buds of your gay power thirst becoming activated. You’re no longer gazing at hot young college girls, you’re gaysing at dudes that are ripping a backyard slip n slide with their shirts off. Catching yourself in daytime homosexual fantasies you recogize the fruity drinks are turning you into a fruit. But why stop there? Once you pop the top of your third one, you are wisped away to Palm Springs where you are rollerblading with your crew. Building up a thirst from skating in the fruit boots you and your potential ass buddies head to the pool party where there isn’t a woman around for miles. The hard seltzers keep the party going til 6 AM proving this beverage is way more hardcore than SNL’s Schmitz Gay.

When you are a hard-working professional in your mid to late 20s you live for the weekends. From attending a weekend powwow in the Hamptons to taking a jet set vacation to Las Vegas you intend to fully maximize your precious time economy. This usually includes getting shit faced and chasing women. Your usual lineup of pints of beer and cocktails are becoming dull and uninteresting. Being offered and tempted with a Bud Light Seltzer variety pack your bicuriousity calls you to action. After slamming a second lime flavored can, then a third, fourth, fifth, or sixth you are on a private G6 aircraft heading to Key West for the ultimate gaycation. Partying hard in a hot tub full of bears, the alcoholic hard seltzers give you a higher gay sex drive than Liberace coked out of his gourd. Partying into the wee hours, the introduction of whippets has you going harder until you blackout and wakeup the next day. Experiencing the medical condition known as cock breath you find yourself pondering your sexual identification and how to get back home.

Attending a bachelor party in Tahoe, you and some of your good friends that you haven’t see for years are gearing up for three days and three nights of debauchery. Your good friend Josh is getting married, and you want to see to it that he has a high blood alcohol content complimented cigars with strippers. The AirBnb rental has everything that you need, complete with kegerator and fully stocked liquor cabinet. After catching up with your long-lost buddies, you begin to notice that somebody brought over a dirty 30 of Watermelon Vizzy seltzers. The first one was refreshing but after the second one you are suppressing your homosexual urges in the back of your mind. After number three, you download the app Grindr and try to meet with like-minded men anywhere from Lake Tahoe to San Francisco. Meeting up with several men who are drunk off hard seltzers it is decided to rent a helicopter and get ferried to get gay by the Bay. With the party just getting underway, you discover that it is National Hard Seltzer Day and they are having a parade downtown to recognize those proud seltzer drinkers. With a choo choo train materializing on a San Fran trolly, these hard seltzer enthusiasts aren’t engaging in a debauch, but instead participating in an act that is eloquently called the San Francisco Treat. It’s not Rice a Roni, it’s nice ronis galore. After an all nighter at a twink foam party in the downtown district you may feel a little sore, but you decide to walk it off and head to a brunch complete with mimosas infused with alcoholic orange seltzer.

Walking through the streets of London, bored on a museum tour with your girlfriend, you develop the urge to escape for a few hours. Jet lagged, lost, and feeling you need some quality me time, you decide to head to a pub to have a couple of quiet ones. After consuming a few quality pints of the local brew, you crossover to Happy Dad Hard Seltzers. Once the third one hits your lips, giving you mouth pleasure, some of your fellow pub patrons invite you to join them on a chartered flight to Mykanos. This uber-gay Greek island is the gaycation capital of the world where the men are hairy and the hard seltzers flow like wine. Your days are spent chicken fighting in the pool and playing pickle ball with men who “ride the Greek saddle.” Shotgunning and bonging hard seltzers in the evening, the scene devolves into a pile on party with the music of Yanni playing in the background. Reminiscent of Caligula, Happy Dad Hard Seltzers always guarantees hook ups for sugar daddies and sugar babies gaying it up on a Greek Beach.

There can be some hard truths about hard seltzers. The government needs to regulate these beverages a bit better. Your high school son was once popular with the ladies but after a 6 pack of Blood Orange Lemonade White Claws he has decided that after high school he wants to enlist in the Navy. Seeking wholesome glory on the high seas he binges hard seltzers on every shore leave and plays ping pong with Bangkok lady boys. These magical concoctions, with their high sugar and artificial flavoring, have the power to turn a straight man gay. A single can is fine, but once you're on that second one you ponder what it’s like being prison gay. The third and ensuing drinks elevates you to Johnny Weir’s man cave. So kids, it’s alright to experiment with hard seltzers and your sexuality but remember once you’re 3 deep on the golf course you’ll be putting from the rough with 3 of your bestest buds. Stick to beer.

Brian Ss

A Eulogy to Elon

Not from a specified position or source

Elon Musk. This South African-Canadian-American-Martian entrepreneur has Xcelled immensely the last 25 years and has brought about Xcellence in innovation. Given his Xcruciating work ethic and hardcore edginess, is it any wonder that these Xtra efforts have brought about revolutionary change in tech Xpertise? He may be an African American Xpat but his Xecutive decision making has clearly Xplained the need for EVs. Developing technology for a possible Xodus of humanity to the Xpanse of space could prevent an Xtinction level event. Elon never makes Xcuses. By setting the Xample he has Xuded himself to be one of the most Xciting personalities alive.

Before PayPal there was X.com. Engineered by Elon and associates in the late 90s it was an Xtreme attempt to upend traditional banking institutions. Given the financial system’s continuous Xploitation of its customers, by Xtracting money from them through Xpensive service fees, Elon didn’t set out to simply disrupt, he wanted to Xplode the old model. By Xplaining to his partners and Xploring a better payment system he Xhibited his risk taking skills with Xtreme prejudice. No longer did Xpense payments have to be Xercised by the rules and regulations of the banking system, X.com sought to Xceed and Xpel the very Xcursive nature of making transactions. At the precipice of the 21^st century he was determined to Xorcise the demons out of the financial system.

Some people say that the letter X is symbolic of both ambiguous scenarios and infinite possibilities. In the 1990s to the early 2000s it became synonymous with rebellion and Xtreme sports. Given its various interpretations and cultural associations, it has become Mr. Musk’s go to reference. Elon is a Gen-Xer by birth. His Xuberance for science Xemplifies why he started Tesla and Space X. Pushing boundaries and making Xcursions past traditional corporate bureaucracies has allowed this Xceptional human into making Xtensive technological developments. His Xternal demeanor and Xtroverted management style pushes his staff by Xpediting deadlines that were once deemed impossible. The work can be Xhilarating for the many employees at Elon’s companies, but constant failures and pushback will render them Xpendable. By Xtinguishing obstacles and cutting Xorbitant costs, Tesla, Space X, and now X are now seen as more hardcore than any XXX film on the internet.

Despite his Xemplary leadership style, Elon still has a sense of humor. His many Xalting posts on X range from talking shit to X presidents to suggesting that Bill Gates may have 2 X chromosomes. Within the realm of office humor Elon seems like the kind of guy to make copies of his butt in a XeroX. His childhood Xthusiams challenge all Xisting orthodoxies. A video gamer since childhood, Elon has far exceeded Xbox and now needs a video game where he can conquer Planet X. By Xterminating the evil lizards and Xpressing fondness for the highly advanced beings in the civilizational construct, he can then Xit before heading back to interface with X’s IT team.

When he’s not solving the world’s problems and rooting out Xenophobia on X, Elon is keeping human consciousness in Xanadu. Doing his part by having X number of kids, he is hoping to keep the hive mind alive before humanity becomes Xenogenic. Surpassing X (10) kids a few years ago he now has Xi (14) children, greatly impressing General Secretary Xi. Having more offspring than an NBA basketball player he is hoping to spread his seed XX (10X) than that of the average human. His X wife Justine Wilson had 6 children with him. Tululah Riley was another X wife of his. After her, he began dating Amber Heard who is the X wife of Johnny Depp. Once that whole relationship shit the bed, with Miss Heard becoming his X girlfriend, Elon began a relationship with Grimes. They had a child that they chose to name X AE A-12 then registered the name on the birth certificate as X for the first name, AE A-Xii as a middle, Musk. X Ash A Twelve was another variation for this child of X. Now X goes to the White House with his father when he is working on DOGE. There’s even a child named Exa in the MiX but goes by the nickname Y. Having many children of XX and XY chromosomes Elon believes in having multiple children to the Xth degree. His Xtraordinary procreation makes the Xtraterrestrials gush. Xemplifying his commitment to demographics his seXual Xtricular activities are Xtemporaneous.

Despite the rumors of drug abuse Musk has stated he doesn’t use Xanax but occasionally uses prescribed ketamine. Certain syndicated newspapers attempted to suggest that he consumed a cornucopia of recreational drugs but that was only to sell papers in their Xtra, Xtra read all about it mantra. Musk controls his mind much like Sir Lancelot has control over Xcalibur. Sometimes his teXtual Xpressions and public Xhibitions can be a bit Xcessive but this is what happens when you are a hard core Xcentric. He can be a wild man on the Xterior but that’s just to maintain his internal intellXual Xtravagance. When there are deadlines to be met on the new Tesla-X model and Xtraglactic ambitions rising to the surface you don’t need to consume E, you need a steady dose of X to keep the Xcitotoxins at bay.

Mars is thee X marks the spot for Mr. Musk. His Space X takes Xience to another level. This Xpedition is set to become a real time Xtravaganza in 2026. The Xplicit target dates of shipping equipment to Mars will pave the way for crewed flights sometime by the end of the decade. These could be an Xciting breakthrough for humanity once we receive Xclusive access to the red planet. Once there, we could Xcavate for rare minerals and Xcommunicate all red heads to the red planet. As long as he and his engineers don’t Xhaust themselves and make their heads Xplode, make sure to put a big X on your 2029 calendars for when astronauts will be sipping Xpressos on the 4^th planet from the sun.

Xlon’s next challenge is attempting to make AI and humanoids not be an Xistential threat to humanity and stick it to his X friend Larry Page. Xacting a checks and balances system on OpenAI he Xpertly warns that the machines must not Xert total control, for homosapiens don’t become Xtant. Challenging Sam Altman and former PayPal Mafia member Peter Thiel, Elon doesn’t care if he gets Xiled from Silicon Valley. He would rather Xpel the troublemakers for man can live in Xylophone harmony with the machines. Nobody wants an X Machina scenario to play out. The debate over AI is of a much more serious matter than the XYZ affair. To protect Generations X, Y, and Z governments need to Xact strict legislation. Failure to do so could result in more dire consequences than having a severe case of Xzema.

With his Space X rockets taking satellites into orbit, Xlon is making our lives better. Xfinity now has higher speed internet. Xcel Energy can now provide electricity 4X faster. XOXO can now ship women’s fashion accessories quicker than ever before. Xochitl now produces even better salsa and tortilla chips. Xevo’s car technologies are becoming more advanced and faster. Xiamen Airlines now transports its domestic Chinese customers 25% faster. Xquisite Yachts assembly lines are now more efficient when manufacturing luxury yachts for tech bro billionaires. And X-Men is no longer woke. Its character Morph is no longer bicurious and non-binary and thanks to Elon, Morph is now swimming in pussy in X-rated fashion.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX and XXXXXXXX sometimes XXXXXXXXXXXXX because of that fucker XXXXXXXXXXXXXX the future XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. Elon is committed to XXXXXXXXXXXXX and when XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX goes to Mars XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX will be the continuation of engineering excellence. XXXXXXxxxxxxxxx because XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX and Donald Trump want to XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx plus XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX enjoying the rifts of the indie rock band the Xx. Always going the Xtra Mile Elon XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX, XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX, and XXXXXXXXx while chewing Xtra Gum and doing exercise with P90X. That’s what they call XXXXXXXXXXXxx and XXXtra sexy.

Elon Musk is now at the apX of the tech industry. He doesn’t need to fiX his factories and multiplXs, his results speak for themselves. By annXing traditional industry with codXing Elon has conquered the vertX of Big Tech and his cerebral cortX is just getting started. Adapting to constant roadblocks he is always reflXive, everXpanding his indX of ingenuity. Shunning the lifestyles of the rich and famous, he’d rather be sleeping in a duplX wearing spandX. Simplifying the complXities of modern society he has sworn an oath to Xterminate the woke mind virus and to Xtinguish those technocrats who are performing acts of evil. Love or hate him he puts the X into all of his ventures where they are enhanced multiple times. If you don’t like what he’s doing, take an XlaX and go X yourself.

Brian Ss=Xian Xx

Some Thoughts During My Recent Birthday

Bust out the camera for this hyped-up event

Having celebrated my birthday this past week, I took the time to engage in some deep thinking and pondering. Dwelling on the past and looking forward to the future, I had a good time on the actual DOB of Brian Ss. Receiving an outpouring of texts and calls, wishing me well on this special day, I feel so blessed for friends and family displaying this act of kindness. Taking a day off from work, running around town and taking an unforgettable mountain bike ride, I spent the evening in the company of friends. Having a couple of drinks and apps we all had a good time getting boned up and being silly. Anymore, I try to keep the momentum going by celebrating my birthday for an entire week, not just an individual day.

With another trip around the sun, I am in fact one year older. Now at the age of 45 I’m that much closer to being a half century old. Damn! What the hell happened? Finding myself smack dab in the middle of being a quadragenarian I must contemplate and anticipate what the future holds. I wouldn’t call it a midlife or existential crisis, I don’t believe in that shit. What am I going to go out and buy a jet ski in an attempt to achieve the fountain of youth? Since I am an absurdist philosophically, reaching milestones and acquiring material possessions doesn’t really matter to me. The American system of reaching certain benchmark ages is all bullshit. Some of them correspond with the cycle of life but most of it has to do with you being an economic unit in an otherwise corrupt, matrix-like existence. You are really as old as you feel, and everybody has a different biological age anyway. Some people age like shit, some people age gracefully.

Being an amateur numerologist 45 has a few things going for it. The big plate at the gym is 45 lbs. Our 47^th president was once named 45. I pack a .45 ACP pistola in the event some bitch ass leprechaun tries starting shit with me at the gas station. Kim Kardashian is currently 45, as is Ryan Gosling, along with Macaulay Culkin. A half of a soccer match is 45 minutes long. I-45 runs from Dallas to Houston. The band Cornershop came out with a song in 1998 called Brimful of Asha (on the 45). Utah was the 45^th state admitted to the union. World War 2 ended in 1945. So, as you can see, I’m in good company. I’m 45 and feeling alive.

Realizing that I need to take a more active approach to life’s milestones, I’ve decided on a few things. I suppose I’ll apply for that $450 thousand dollar life insurance policy since I am well past my messianic age. I will finally start that vegetable garden that I’ve always wanted to construct. Maybe I will start going back to church since today’s secularized ideologies are sick and evil. And most importantly, do I go all out in scheduling an appointment to have a fiber optic camera inserted in my anus for my doctor can have a good look inside of me?!?

What better way to ring in the awesome age of 45 by going all out for a good old-fashioned colonoscopy. They say regular screening for colorectal cancer should begin at this age and by golly I may just oblige. I can’t afford to have an inflammatory bowel and polyps on my innards. Having eaten a lot of red meat and fried food in my day I may just be the perfect candidate. I’ve already scheduled my inaugural colonoscopy for next week with a local gastroenterologist named Dr. Rabinowitz. I can’t wait! We’re going to stream it live and I’m organizing a viewing party with my closest friends. There’s going to be a keg, an open bar, and I’ve hired a catering company that will serve up a taco bar along with sandwiches and jalapeno poppers. So come on down and watch the medical specialists go deep on yours truly.

Afte my initial consultation I’ve been briefed that I can only ingest a clear liquid diet for 45 hours. Colonoscopy prep is a necessity for best patient outcomes. I’ve heard the preparatory liquid drink is quite tasty. Stocking up on apple juice, tea, and Ensure, I make sure to bring out the shine on my titanium butthole. I don’t want any obstructions for my viewing party, I want it to be clear as day, with a few glimpses of sunlight entering my gastrointestinal tract. With my colonoscopy going live, much like a televised sportscast, the prospect of online gambling has taken shape. Vegas has 2:1 odds that my colon will be squeaky clean. 4:1 odds there will be a benign polyp and 10:1 that they’ll find a LEGO mini unicorn up there. Millions of dollars in bets are being generated if you want in on this hot action.

On the day of, I’ve been briefed that online traffic of my live colonoscopy may break the internet. Being streamed live on every platform imaginable, an international audience has taken shape. Since it’s on a Friday night, Netflix has purchased the rights and I guarantee it will be more entertaining than that Jake Paul and Mike Tyson fight. X will also live stream the event since democracy can only flourish when social media platforms go through a full rectal exam to scrape out the bullshit. Since the Nielsen Ratings have my colonoscopy on par with the Super Bowl, a lot of stress will be placed on energy grid for the viewing party. Being 45 is awesome and having the most famous colon in the world is even better.

After being put under anesthesia, Dr. Rabinowitz shocks the viewing audience when he goes dry on the initial camera insertion. Since I am an artist and a performer I wanted to win over the audience by launching an early surprise. As the sneaky snake works its way up into my large intestine most of the tissue looks healthy and pink. Having a daily fruit and vegetable smoothie has paid off in pushing out the nasties. My friends at the viewing party along with a global audience cheered me on as its so far so good with my gut. Minus a couple of pennies and a blue balloon my GI tract is looking good. Turning a corner up in my duodenum, the audience is shocked to find a small growth in my intestinal lining resembling the face of Lindsey Lohan. Busting out a white catheter, Dr. Rabinowitz lassos the polyp with a wire and cauterizes it with care. One must have the utmost trust with their doctor when he is that deep in one’s ass. I mean the man is so dedicated to his patients he didn’t even glove up on me. With the crowd going wild, with high fives exchanged, the colonoscopy is now at half time with Rod Stewart being the featured entertainment.

The third quarter of my super-terrific colonoscopy was a bit boring with slight sightings of fat deposits and slight discoloration. But with 8 minutes left in the 4^th quarter, things start to get interesting. Once the camera makes it deeper into my intestine the highlight of the week comes into focus. Coming into full view is Kermit the Frog playing banjo and smoking a cigar. With a gasp heard round the world, Dr. Rabinowitz takes his robotic device beheading the singing frog and sending the tissue to the lab for a biopsy. With the game clock expiring at 0 it appears the procedure was successful, and my 45-year-old ass won’t be needing another one of these for 5-10 years. With the crowd going wild, over the outcome of the depths of my ass covering the spread, people around the world take to the streets in celebration from the results of my first ever colonoscopy.

Being 45 is cool. It truly is a milestone where the body and mind are on the verge of significant transformations. Sure, you may be middle aged, but with that comes wisdom and a good amount of life experience. Being smack dab in the middle generation, you can surely relate to people 20 years younger, and 20 years older. One must be proactive in maintaining one’s health. You need to eat right, stretch every day, inject steroids, and above all go out and get your first colonoscopy. It’s a necessary procedure and something that you won’t forget. So, take 45 in stride. Read more books, grow emotionally, and invite everyone you know to your colonoscopy. Don’t be an ass, let everyone have a looksee as they probe deep into your ass to prevent colon cancer. I guarantee it will be both the television and livestream event of the year. Happy birthday to me!!!!

Brian Ss

The Side Hustle of a Jimmy John's Employee

Freak nasty fast

Side Hustles. What was once called a part time job is now an economic necessity for the majority of working-class people in this country. Corporate careers, salaries, and hourly wages are no longer sufficient for normal folks to make ends meet. The hyperinflation brought on by the pandemic has made things infinitely worse. Grocery bills have gone up 30%, social services such as healthcare and education have become rackets, and I’m wondering when this country will have its let them eat cake moment. We’re all in denial that the economic system is rigged to benefit the billionaire class. The citizenry has been conditioned to think that this is okay, so they put up with it and surrender to the fact that they just need to make extra income.

In order to have the same standard of living that our parents had thirty years ago, most Americans have to work a second or third job. New sidelines have emerged where apps such as Uber and Lyft allow rideshare services for drivers can earn some extra income, when they’re not working their full-time job. It’s non-career-oriented employment but it helps folks pay their bills and keeps their heads above water for they don’t drown in debt. Our economy has devolved into a gig economy and we can all thank the Baby Boomers for steering our once great economic engine right off a cliff.

Chase is a 23 year old college dropout. Recognizing that higher education wasn’t making sense and that student loans were a path to a lifetime of indentured servitude, he did the smart thing and quit school to go work at Jimmy Johns. Jimmy Johns is the most brilliant assembly line of sandwich production in the world. They crank out delicious sandwiches in freaky fast fashion. General Motors could learn a thing or two about Jimmy John’s freakish stealth when constructing an Italian Night Club sammie. They have a great corporate culture and employee morale is high. Whether making the sandwich or delivering them to the employees at the local library, Jimmy John’s and their wonderful workers are fucking freaky fast.

Our hero Chase works hard but his monthly rent is criminally high. His slumlord just jacked his rent up 20% last month so he decided to develop a side hustle just for he can survive. Jimmy John’s is a great employer but they simply don’t pay their sandwich engineers enough. Chase has decided that he will take his freaky fast skill set and apply it to delivering baby oil to Puff Daddy’s freak off parties. He figures he can work a few hours a day, up to 10-15 a week, in delivering sexual lubricant in freaky fast fashion to one of Diddy’s sexual orgies.

Sean Combs may be in prison, but his freak offs live on. Ordering baby oil by the pallet, he always needs multiple 5-gallon buckets to ease the sexual friction when people are getting their freak on. Whoever the freak of the week is, once they’ve been drugged and properly lubricated, multiple freaks and geeks take advantage of them while it’s all being recorded. Chase provides a valuable logistical service to East Coast rappers. When it’s 2 AM and the lube supply has gone dry, who ya gonna call?!? Don’t freak out call Chase! He’s a known speed freak and his freakish speed delivers for you can have all the necessary lube to continue getting your freak nasty on.

Chase stays in the zone by listening to Freakonomics for he can impress his ultimate Freakmaster, P Diddy. Chase can usually rake in $500 a shift when he is prompt with the baby oil gel containing aloe and Vitamin E. Sometimes you need the enhanced product when gang bangs go on for 4 days straight. That is some straight up freak power at the freak off. These freaks of nature will end the multiday sesh by going on a freak streak across one of Diddy’s recording studios. But with his violent temper, Love will freak out at the women and throw them to the ground.

Much like Rick James, Chase has become a super freak in his earning potential. He is now making bank and will someday be able to afford his dream car, a 1971 El Camino. As long as he keeps that gravy train of baby oil flowing to Diddy’s freak show, there will come a day when there is no longer a need to be freaky fast at Jimmy Johns. Diddy is such a freak that he has been accused of sexually assaulting both men and women. There’s always a demand for truckloads of baby oil when you’re attempting to get your freak and creep on with multiple John and Jane Does. Chase now rents U-Haul moving trucks for his weekend transports of vats of baby oil. His guarantee is that if he’s not there in 30 minutes or less he will volunteer to be an unwilling participant in the freak off. Fortunately for Chase he is a control freak and takes a tight assed approach to his business model.

Taking his side hustle seriously, Chase has commissioned a FRee Evolutionary Algorithm Kit or FREAK, to help streamline the nonstop Diddy orders. He’s got to stay on top of the economics of baby oil. Since the Diddy demand is so high, the supply price can skyrocket on the NYSE. Reading the business book FREAK, Fantastic Rebellious Economically Amazing Karen, Chase is becoming more and more of an entrepreneur by the day. His freak power is impressive and he knows he can’t be weak, he’s gotta be a freak even while taking a leak. He will never freaking drive for Uber since that fucking corporation is friggin not cool to their drivers.

Even with Poop Daddy heading to prison for 4 years or so, the orders will still keep happening. If Daddy wants to smuggle contraband up his ass, he’s still gonna need some baby oil to ease the entry. When the new iPhone 18 Max comes out, he’ll need a fuck ton of baby oil to get that thing up there for the guards don’t suspect anything. With his kids visiting weekly and bringing presents, Puffy D will need even more lubricant to get the Candyland board game deep up his ass for it’s not confiscated. When Justin Bieber comes to visit, multiple buckets of baby oil will be needed to stage a wrestling match where he and the Diddler can tag team their fellow inmates in a plastic pool. Our freakishly fast side hustler Chase will always be there to meet the challenge and make enough cheddar to finally purchase that 71 El Camino.

Sean Combs, Puff Daddy, P Diddy, Diddy, Love, whatever the fuck you want to call him, is a sick fuck. His freakish freak offs would make Adina Howard cringe. She’s the kind of sistah that would get her freak on from late night to the early morn, but even she can’t go for four consecutive days and nights. Having spent tens of millions of dollars on baby oil, Did He purchases it by the trainload. When’s he’s in a pinch and needs buckets of that Diddy oil, he knows he can rely on a Jimmy John’s employee to make a freaky fast delivery for the muthatruckin’ cuckin’ and yuckin’ can continue. Both the sandwiches and the orgy action can be considered “freaky fresh” to “tasting is believing.”

Eventually Chase intertwines his two jobs and the slogans become synonymous with each other. From 10-6pm he’s living up to the hype at the sandwich shop by being “freaky fast and freaky good.” That credo also compliments his ability to get lube to a Diddy afterparty for the Diddler can have his way with an aspiring young artist. “It takes a freak to make a sandwich that’ll make you freak,” but it also takes a freak to procure enough baby oil for a Diddy freak off that’ll make you freak. “Eat, Drink, and be Freaky” where Daddy P assures you to eat, drink the spiked beverage he gave you, and be freaky while you are drugged. Chase delivers at both his main job and his side hustle and that’s what it takes just to survive in American these days.

Never judge a person on how they make a living. Some people have to grind it out in 2-3 jobs just to eat and pay rent. Walk a mile in their shoes and see how you like it. There’s nothing wrong with being an Uber driver or an Amazon delivery driver to make a few extra bucks for you and your household. Side hustles within the gig economy are the new norm. Just remember it can be very lucrative to be on standby to deliver baby oil to that bad boy 4 life, Puffy Daddy. He’ll eventually get out of prison or be pardoned by Trump, but there are beaucoup bucks to be made in delivering sex lube to a Diddy party in freaky fast fashion.

Brian Ss