Comedy Central was kind enough to let me write a sketch for the NBA playoffs. Below is that very sketch.
I turned 26 on Monday, and received tons of very kind wishes from my friends and family. However, I also received a lot of vicious messages from people too and those were easily my favorites. Here are some of the best instances of how the people closest to me chose to wish me a happy birthday:
“Happy birthday you gutless scoundrel.” –David Tveite, comedian/known asshole
“Is this your real Birthday or is Facebook full of shit?” –Erik Allen, comedian
“Happy birthday Picker. Wish I coulda made your pig-joiner the other night…” –Chris Fleming, comedian (not mean, just really bizarre)
“Have a shitty day you fuckin asshole” –Greg, very close friend and former college roommate
“Happy birthday idiot” –Kevin, childhood best friend
“Whatever” –Yassir Lester, comedian (the lack of punctuation was the most devastating part of this)
“Id say “happy birthday”, but you deserve neither of those things.” –Eshan, roommate and best friend
“Dude no one gives a fuck.” –Don Zollo, comedian
“YOU GOT AIDS YO!” –Jono Zalay, comedian
Here’s an interview I did with the website First Order Historians. This is really the only place that has ever published my thoughts on comedy and my own career, so if you’re into that shit get into that shit.
Tweeted this, thought it was way funnier than anyone else did.
Then Guster saw the tweet and immediately recognized how genius my idea was.
Now that myself and Guster have committed to this revolutionary project, we just need the help of one more man. As if billions of dollars aren’t good enough motivation, Guster decided to sweeten the pot.
Free pasta from one of the world’s most respected Italian bistros. God damn this is getting good.
Holy shit, a 4th party throws their marinara-stained hat into the ring! Olive Garden has pledged herself to the musical revolution! Don’t mess this up for us Busta Rhymes, you fast-talking motherjumper.
Not sure what this means, but I can’t help but sense a hint of eroticism.
The fucking idiots shit over at The Westboro Church some how saw it, and of course totally didn’t pick up on the fact that I was making fun of them.
And then that tweet was allegedly retweeted by Fred Phelps’ dumb ass son.
I’m not going to respond to any of it because that’s their whole goal, but here’s a link to one of my favorite things that have ever happened on the internet, when Margie Phelps tweeted about how Steve Jobs was going to hell from her iPhone.
If you know me in real life, or if you follow me on any social media site, you may have heard me reference something called a “silverback he-bitch” on an occasion or two. I now realize that I’ve never fully explained what these entities are. It’s not possible to overstate how important it is that more people become aware of the phenomenon that is the silverback he-bitch.
The term “silverback he-bitch” originated in the 2005 critically acclaimed independent film, Duece Bigalow: European Gigolo. Though a mere throwaway line to describe an aging man-whore, that brief reference changed my life by giving me the guidance to assign a title to a breed and creed of elder gentlemen.
Generally speaking, silverback he-bitches are men 50 years of age or older who couldn’t care less about what society thinks of them. They love light denim, 85% of them are alcoholics, and 69 out of every 69 silverbacks have been divorced at least twice (it was totally their fault).
The silverback’s appearance is generally a good indicator of its attitude. The longer the mane, the bigger the fame. For instance, a silverback he-bitch with a little tiny pony tail has not fully committed to the life and reputation of a true silverback, so it deserves only a small amount of respect. That being said, this silverback may just be embarking upon the long journey of becoming “Top Shelf”, so it may be worth to keep an eye on that pup. Also, silverbacks with ponytails, even longer ones, are generally more business-like.
A silverback he-bitch with a long, beautiful, flowing mane, is, plainly speaking, Top Shelf. On numerous occasions I’ve nearly crashed my goddamn car because I saw one strutting down the side of the road. Top-Shelf Silverbacks don’t walk, they fucking strut. Their gray hair doesn’t show age, it shows experience. Top Shelf Silverback He-bitches are unapologetic, sexually deviants. The Top Shelf lives to pleasure women, almost exclusively with its mouth. THESE. MOTHERFUCKERS. EAT. ASS.
So there you go. Now you get it. The silverback he-bitch is to be respected, but keep your distance. You can’t hang with these guys. You don’t want to hang with these guys. If you see a top shelf silverback he-bitch, please post it on the internet under #SilverbackHeBitch.
Thanks for doing your part.
-Blake (I took all these photos)
A few people asked me to do the Ice Bucket Challenge, so here is this:
This is something I did to make my friends and I laugh, but if people don’t absolutely despise it I’ll keep putting these up.