Retro Relapse: Men Who Drink Mic Ultra Are Missing the Point

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2014.

There is a class of male out there that is far and away the most emasculated and douchebaggy of all others you will find at your local watering hole. They are the Mic Ultra drinker. Granted, there are other beers that fit this template but Mic Ultra is the most popular. Bud 66 is probably the second most popular of these bottles full of ass swill. Really though, any light beer or mega light beer should be included here. If you drink beer infused with lime or some other bullshit, you might as well make an appointment with the vet to finalize your neutering and go to the surgeon and have your taste buds removed because you aren’t deserving of them.

Beer is something to be enjoyed, something to savor, something to remind us of our manly passions and reinvigorate our masculinity. It’s not something a man should drink just for a quick buzz while trying to cut back on calories and carbohydrates. Beer is calories and carbohydrates. Calories and carbohydrates are energy. Beer is the essential energy we need to build massive warehouses to hold more beer! It is a divine cycle, one that powers us, empowers us and makes our taste buds and stomachs reach monolithic levels of ecstasy and heavenly bliss! Beer is the most romantic thing in our lives. Well, ribeye, whiskey and camping are pretty romantic too.

The guy who drinks Michelob Ultra is one of these seven things:

Number One: He is a guy who doesn’t make his own decisions because the love of his life is a dictator and he’s too afraid to man up. Reason being, he really enjoys the privilege of going down on her once a year on her birthday and the rare times she schedules for him to look at the closest thing to porn he is allowed to see, the underwear section of her Spiegel catalog.

Number Two: He is a trendy fuck and has no idea what tastes good and follows the crowd. Since he’s trying to socialize with boring one-dimensional women at the bar, he unknowingly mimics them and walks around sipping Mic Ultras like a twat. This guy drank Zima in high school and Smirnoff Ice in college. He has a collection of Hpnotiq bottles on his fridge at home. He is also a really shitty tipper but portrays himself as a baller.

Number Three: He is actually worried about his caloric intake. Yet he ate a triple bacon cheeseburger for lunch, had a monstrous breakfast burrito before work and is probably going to hit the drive-thru on the way home from the bar or gorge on some Entenmann’s in bed while watching The Colbert Report. He is the guy that orders a Biggie-sized number two and a large Frosty but asks for a Diet Coke to drink. He thinks that the five minutes he spent on the elliptical last week accomplished something.

Number Four: He is a guy who is completely susceptible. He sees the Mic Ultra billboards and trucks everywhere, so he just mindlessly orders one because his environment tells him to. He probably wears khakis for every occasion and owns a “man bag”. He also can’t figure out why he’s held an entry level position going on five years. He participates in “Movember” and hopes no one notices his shit mustache and can’t wait to shave it. He has a closet at home full of “As Seen On TV” products that he has never opened.

Number Five: He is a man that is completely lost. I use the word “man” very loosely. He could be a man, deep down inside. However, he needs to find a respectable beer or a good whiskey, pound it and let his nuts drop like a Dutch oven! He tries really hard to be one of the guys but finds that “harder” beer to be unpalatable. He doesn’t realize that a guy drinking Mic Ultra doesn’t have the right to his opinion about palatability. He’s the type of guy that asks others if they want to split a dessert at a nice restaurant.

Number Six: He is just a total fucking douche. He thinks he is the king of the bar, the grand puba of style and usually hits on women with insults. He subscribes to Maxim and heeds the advice of the headlines at face value because he doesn’t actually read the magazine. He argues with bouncers for no reason, pushes his way through a crowd to cop feels and usually has an entourage of just as douchey males. He buys Mic Ultra because it’s cheap and he’s used to stealing it from his older sister when she’s at work because he is unemployed and doesn’t have his own place.

Number Seven: He is actually a real manly motherfucker and he likes Mic Ultra, embraces its shittiness and doesn’t give a shit what you or I think about it. He drinks it like a champion and scans the bar ready to throw a tomahawk at anyone challenging his awful taste for ultra-light piss lager. He knows it’s bad, he doesn’t care, he drinks it, he likes it and fuck guys like me with our pretentious beverages and lifelong journeys to expand and mature our palates. There is nothing you can say to this savage wildebeest that will get him to try something else. I actually respect him for this. Although, I’d respect him more if he chugged 10W-30.

What all seven of these types of guys have in common, is the fact that they don’t know anything better than the absolute worst. They are like soldiers who get home from war and don’t stop eating crappy MREs. They’re an adult who grew to full maturity physically but still has a diet of just Gerber baby food. They’re like an adult that chooses to stay seated at the kiddie table, eating Spaghetti-Os over prime rib. There is a whole world full of options and to not exercise that and take a leap and develop a sense of adventure is the antithesis of manliness.

Life is about new experiences, new adventures and seeking out the best this world has to offer. To the dudes drinking Michelob Ultra, come out of your fucking shell! Grasp the best that this world has to offer and enjoy the fuck out of it. Stop tip-toeing through life like a bitch and start stomping your feet like a beastly fucking orc! Or keep drinking your sad excuse for a beer and wonder why everyone else’s lives seem so much more awesome than yours.

I can’t tell you what beers to try, as everyone has different tastes and a palate grows and changes with time and experience. But you can’t expand your palate sucking on sand and shit.

Retro Relapse: The Weirdness of the Term “Man Cave”

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2014.

I had a friend say to me a few years ago, “Hey, do you want to come over tomorrow night? I’ve got a few guys down to party in my man cave. Oh, and the wife said it was cool.”

Now imagine that you had never heard the term “man cave”. At that time, I hadn’t. So imagine how that friend’s invitation translated in my brain.

Sure the term “man cave” has now become a big trendy thing. The NFL is giving away ultimate man caves to contest winners. Hell, even the company I work for is looking for the best man cave out there that is featuring our products prominently (I didn’t come up with this marketing idea, by the way). And every dude out there who is celebrating the fact that their wife lets them have one room in their house solely for their man shit to be displayed, is happy to be a part of this big man cave craze.

It kind of feels like people who are excited about their tax refund but don’t even realize how much they are actually being taxed because hey, this is all just a part of life.

I bet a woman, probably an overbearing wife, came up with this term “man cave”. Sounds like a way for control freak women to rule the household by gifting their weak men one room for their stuff. Besides that, the woman is still probably in control of what he can display on his man cave walls. For instance, no porn posters and some stuff that reminds the man that the wife is always watching. You know, stuff like a cute sports sign that says, “We Have a Red Sox Marriage.” These fascist women, I call them Big Mother, are the same sort that like to trick their men into eating quinoa burgers. It should be noted that quinoa isn’t a real food, as spell check doesn’t consider it a real word.

I see many guys that I know and I am glad that I am not married. Truthfully, I’m that asshole that sees it as an outdated concept but that’s a blog for another day.

I get that people get married, they have families and the amount of space a man has will decline. Honestly, fuck that, buy a bigger house. If you can’t afford a bigger house, why are you having so many children moving in on your territory? I kid, I kid – take it easy.

I’m not trying to promote an alpha male Neanderthal mentality here but for fuck’s sake, the term “man cave” is just awful. The men in my family never had a fucking man cave. You know what they called their space? The den. Or they called it the living room because they weren’t duped into moving all their man shit into the basement, a garage or a shed. They had those things too but they were really just additions to the shit they had all over the house.

The point is, why can’t we just call it a den? It has always been called a fucking den. I’m tired of these cute words with “man” thrown into them to make them seem okay. Terms like this are part of the reason why the American male is an emasculated pussy and both sexes are dissatisfied as a result. Plus, how long until “man cave” is considered offensive and “genderizing”?

Now getting back to my initial idea of what the term “man cave” meant, I thought I was being propositioned for some sort of Eyes Wide Shut sex party for dudes. I thought “party in my man cave” was code for “many dudes filling my butthole” or “we’re going spelunking in my poop chute.” Being that I am neither gay nor find any of those guys attractive, I did not attend. Had I known that they were just going to watch hockey, drink shitty beer and eat wings, I probably would have gone. Granted, I would’ve given my friend shit for calling it a “man cave” and drinking shitty beer but I still would’ve been there.

But this is what happens when manly things are re-branded as female-approved cutesy bullshit. It loses its masculine luster and becomes a bored housewife’s bi-sexual gangbang fantasy.

The End.

Retro Relapse: The Soon-To-Be Forgotten History of Star Wars

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2015. And looking at this now, I think I was right.

Tonight is the night where Star Wars: The Force Awakens opens in theaters. With the release of this film, everything we know changes for this franchise going forward. There is a lot of hype, a lot of hope and a lot of apprehension from those of us that never recovered from the awfulness of the Prequel Trilogy.

Fact is, there isn’t a single Star Wars fan that doesn’t want this to be as amazing as the original films. But we all thought The Phantom Menace, without question, was going to be an amazing film before we saw it. There really is no way to know if The Force Awakens will be as great as the Original Trilogy until we experience it.

Films with this much hype usually fail to live up to it. In my opinion, J.J. Abrams, the director, has a pretty crappy track record. He did destroy Star Trek for those of us who liked it when it was boring and mostly a bunch of talking to avoid conflict. But I get it, we can’t all be smart and Abrams catered to the broader, dumbed down audience. And well, he admitted that he wasn’t a fan of Star Trek and was really just a fan of Star Wars. Good for him.

But this isn’t about J.J. or my “lack of faith” in him. It is about what this film and Disney’s purchase of Lucasfilm has done to the vast wonderland that is the universe Star Wars exists in.

I was a huge Star Wars fan and I still am, even though I feel a bit of betrayal. Reason being, everything I have invested in the universe is mostly moot now, at least in regards to what the new owners of the intellectual property say.

Thirty-plus years of reading all the books I could get my hands on, playing all the video games I bought at hefty price tags and collecting all the toys and other random memorabilia and now, none of that fits into Disney’s vision of the franchise.

When they announced that they would be making Star Wars films yearly from now until the end of time, I knew that the Expanded Universe was dead. They didn’t come out and say it immediately, but knowing that an Episode VII just wouldn’t fit in anywhere with what was established in the books and video games of the Expanded Universe, I knew that Disney would take extreme liberties, ignore all that established mythos and just do what they want.

I understand why they have to do it but with as much as I love many of the stories and what the EU has become, there is that part of me that feels a stronger allegiance to it than to Disney, who really doesn’t give a crap about it. And this is the same Disney that keeps making mediocre Marvel films after buying them a few years earlier. They are on a mission to own and reshape my childhood. Once they acquire Hasbro and Nintendo, they will own the souls of every young boy who experienced childhood in the awesome ’80s.

If The Force Awakens is a stellar movie, I will accept it as the new canon. If it sucks, I will completely dismiss it and always consider the Expanded Universe to be my canon. I don’t have to turn my back on the EU just because Disney says so. It isn’t just Star Wars history, although soon-to-be forgotten, it is history for the millions of people who invested their time, heart and money into the Star Wars brand for several decades. And whether it is fair to Disney or not, people with knowledge of the EU will always compare Disney’s work to the tales they’ve held dear for years.

The EU fan base is certainly a small percentage of Earth’s population and Disney has to look at the bigger picture. And I guess all of us hoping for more movies one day, knew that something like this would have to happen, it just kind of sucks.

And it doesn’t suck in that the EU will be ignored and washed away, it won’t be for those of us who love those stories and characters, it sucks because there will be no new stories in the EU. It isn’t dying because Disney has to ignore it, it is dying because it can’t continue to live and grow going forward. What exists within the EU is all that it will ever be now. That world is cemented. That’s the hardest pill to swallow.

I know that a lot of the stuff in the EU was pretty awful. Many books were just bad or too bizarre or didn’t fit within the established mythos. Some of the earlier attempts at expanded fiction tales went in strange directions. Splinter of the Mind’s Eye, one of the first Star Wars books ever written, doesn’t make much sense. But it is the great stories and great characters that people cherish and there was a lot more good than bad in the Star Wars Expanded Universe.

So even if I dismiss the new movies, as I have dismissed the rebooted universe of Star Trek since J.J. Abrams took over that franchise, I still have nothing new to look forward to in the EU. Even if I were to treat the EU as my personal Star Wars canon till the end of time, it is dead. No more books to read, no more games to play and the fate of many characters will be unresolved.

Despite my reservations, I am going into The Force Awakens with an open mind. I am trying to keep my expectations at bay. I just want to sit there and experience it. And yes, it will certainly drum up some nostalgia, because that’s the point of carrying this franchise on, but I’m going to be as objective as possible.

I want this new movie to be good. I want everything Star Wars to be good going forward. But I remember how I felt waiting for The Phantom Menace to start and how I felt after it and the next two films ended. Again, films with this much hype typically can’t live up to it but we shall see.

And maybe I will be pleasantly surprised to the point where the blow of losing the EU won’t sting as bad. I guess I’ll know in about twelve hours.

Retro Relapse: The Modern Hockey Nickname

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2014.

Hockey has been over for a little while now. Granted, for me, it was over when the Chicago Blackhawks lost in overtime of Game 7 of the Western Conference Finals to the Los Angeles Kings. I’m still pretty sour about it but I know that my team is a budding dynasty and will win several more, assuming they keep their core together over the next few seasons. But whatever, I miss hockey and can’t wait for October to roll around. In order to curb my impatience, I figured I’d write about hockey, even though it is the offseason.

There has been something going on in the modern era of hockey that I find somewhat annoying. It is the modern hockey nickname. Before I get into it though, let me run off some of the badass and creative hockey nicknames belonging to the legends of the past: Bones Bromley, Mario the Magnificent, The Hammer, Mister Zero, The Stratford Streak, Murder Murdoch, The Bulin Wall, The Boogey Man, The Finnish Flash, Mr. Hockey, Cobra, King Kong Korab, Cujo, The Messiah, Boom-Boom, The Puck Goes Inski, Battleship, The Eel, The Rocket, The Russian Rocket, The Pocket Rocket, The Roadrunner, Tiger, Chico, Bugsy, Grapes, Moose, The Rat, Cheesie, Cowboy, The Missing Link, The Flower, Ching, Gump, Jethro, Radar, The Algonquin Enforcer, Captain Crunch, Suitcase Smith, Apple Juice Mott, Le Gros Bill, Gratoony the Loony, The Dominator, The Entertainer, The Chicoutimi Cucumber, The Jet, The Golden Jet, The Golden Brett, Leapin’ Lou, The Big Whistle, Pie, Captain Video, The Eagle, Never Beaton/Seldom Beaton, Lucky Luc, Taz and so many others.

All those names are awesome. The names today are not. Well the vast majority of them anyway. Just on my Blackhawks, I see the nicknames given to these beasts and snipers on the ice and it makes me shake my head. I work in a creative field for a living and what I see here, from those who have coined these modern nicknames, is a severe lack of creativity. Also, they don’t sound menacing or awesome. Nowadays, hockey players are given nicknames that are just their real names simply modified, usually with an “er” or “y” added to it. On the Blackhawks we have Kaner, Toewser (Tazer), Sharpy, Smitty, Crow, Hoss, Duncs, Seabs, Leds, Saader, Shawzer and a few other uninspiring nicknames. Keep in mind this is just on one team. Granted there are still a handful of great nicknames but the rest of the league pretty much follows this lack of creativity.

I blame the announcers and the press. I mean, they’re the ones who usually manufacture the awesome names that we’ve called players since the beginning of time. Are these communications and journalism degree holders not taught creativity anymore? Or are the wrong types of people pursuing these careers. Now I am not knocking their play-by-play, announcing or writing abilities but c’mon, man!

It’s gotten to the point that when I see a new hockey star coming up, I can look at his real name and guess with about 100 percent accuracy what his nickname is going to be. Oh, his name is Doug Jones, how about Jonesy? This kid’s name is Gene Michaels, how about Genie? Hey, what about Drake Thomas, hmmmm… Draker or Tommy? These are all just made-up examples but regardless, this name game has gotten fucking stupid.

I guess some of the blame can be out on the drunken assholes on Twitter who lack the creativity to come up with cool shit. They just start playing the naming game by adding “er” and “y” to everyone with a hashtag and next thing you know, these stupid nicknames are trending. Everyone else in the Twitterverse jumps on the bandwagon and next thing you know, we’ve got another great warrior of the ice with a wimpy name he is certainly not worthy of.

Why can’t Patrick Kane be the Buffalo Soldier since he’s from Buffalo or just something else more creative than Kaner? Toews as Toewser (or Tazer) at least sounds somewhat cool but he could have something better than that too. But Shawzer for Andrew Shaw? C’mon, he deserves the name of a badass beast! Call him something tough like the Belleville Bruiser. And Patrick Sharp should be the Sharpshooter. Maybe some of these names have been used but you can always do variants like all the different “Rockets” and “Jets” that have been in the NHL throughout history.

It kind of mirrors professional wrestling where in the old days you had the Ultimate Warrior, Hercules, the Masked Assassin, the Outlaws, the Blackjacks, the Iron Sheik, Rowdy Roddy, Mr. Wonderful, the Junkyard Dog, Jake the Snake, the Undertaker, Cactus Jack, the Taskmaster, the Barbarian, the Warlord, the Legion of Doom and so many others. Today, wrestlers are named shit like John, Randy, Daniel, Heath, Justin, Evan, Seth, Zack, Jimmy, Dean, Dolph, Adam, Curtis, Bo, Bray, Eric and Luke. Granted all these guys could kick my ass but if someone said to me, “Hey would you rather fight Heath or the Masked Assassin?” Without knowing anything other than their names, I would pick Heath in a heartbeat.

Hockey is a tough as nails sport. It just doesn’t sound as tough today when you got guys nicknamed Seabs and Saader compared to the Cobras, Tigers, Murderers and Boogey Men of the past.

Retro Relapse: The Great American Pussification

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2015 but resurrected because people are still fake-offended snowflakes.

I use the word “pussification” because there is no better term. If you are offended, you are a victim of pussification. And frankly, you’re not really offended, you just think that you’re supposed to be.

But no, I am not calling pussies weak. I’ve encountered many that are very strong. Female pussies, I mean. Male pussies, are very weak. And it isn’t to say that I am calling women lesser than men, this is to say.. oh, you know what? Fuck it, I’m not explaining myself to a bunch of easily offended pussies. Just hit the back button now if you are already uncomfortable or take it to Twitter where you can bitch and moan behind the safety of blocking and only converse with other pussies that agree with you in an effort to get fantasy brownie points for a scoreboard that doesn’t exist.

Additionally, I don’t use the word “wussies” because that is how pussies say “pussies”.

The Great Pussification of America began a long time ago. It is a movement that has succeeded, as every generation since World War II has fallen victim to this bullshit epidemic. It keeps getting worse as the years go on. No, I am not talking about gay people or transgenders or any of that, if you want to be gay or change your sex, I don’t give a shit. In fact, those who deal with the assholes who come against them because they fear people different than themselves, you are a thousand times stronger and more courageous than the douchebags you have to constantly deal with. In fact, you are pillars of non-pussification. How about that, bible thumpers a.k.a. Jesus pussies?

This morning I read about an elementary school that banned a Wonder Woman lunchbox. This is the note they sent home to the parents:

Okay, this is the lunchbox that they found so offensive:

This is a prime example of the Pussification of America.

That actually seems like a pretty awesome lunchbox featuring a powerful hero for girls to look up to. Of course, the note says, “We have defined ‘violent characters’ as those who solve problems using violence. Super heroes certainly fall into that category.”

Uh, okay. Obviously, the school doesn’t know jack shit about most superheroes and they also have bad fucking grammar, as “superheroes” doesn’t have a space in it. This sounds like the worst group of educators ever and they also look like giant fucking pussies.

This is how the public school system, many parents and other adult groups of “evolved socially conscious” dickwads are. They’re pussies coddling children to the point that kids can’t develop the necessary skills and life experience needed to face adversity and challenges head on. A generation, actually, several generations of these kids are growing and entering the world as adults – adults who cannot function like adults.

Another huge example of pussification is participation trophies.

Kudos to the Pittsburgh Steelers’ James Harrison who threw his kid’s participation trophies in the garbage. Why? Because his kid didn’t earn them. They were given to him just for participating.

What kind of liberal bullshit helicopter parent coddling parade is this? What is the point of striving to be the best if you get a prize regardless? But these fuckwits don’t want anyone to be the best, they want everyone to be in the bottom of the soft, cuddly, safe septic tank, knee deep in their bullshit.

When I grew up, I didn’t get trophies for participating. I got them for winning (or coming in second or third). I didn’t cry that I didn’t get a trophy if I wasn’t the best. In fact, I never expected to be the best at everything. I knew that I had to win to get the prize and if I wanted the prize, I had to work for it. Sometimes, even then, there was someone who was better at a challenge than I was. This is how life works.

You wake up, you attack the day, you do your best. Often times, someone does better. People have different strengths and weaknesses. Giving a trophy to everyone rewards weakness. The world, the real world that we all live in regardless of rose colored glasses and over sensitivity, does not reward weakness. If you teach small children the opposite, the world will smack them in the face hard and they won’t be prepared for it. We all see this happen every single fucking day but some chose to play the victim and blame those who succeed.

If you want that trophy, work for it. If you can’t get it, you know that what you are trying to achieve might be out of reach and then move on to find something you’re better at. Childhood is a trial period before adulthood. It isn’t a continuation of infancy. Kids have to fail, they have to sometimes have bad experiences, this is how they learn and adapt to a world that isn’t always their friend. To ignore this fact is asinine.

Everyone wants their kid to win. But shouldn’t people want their kid to win at the big picture that is life? So what, they are batting 8th on their Little League team. One day, they may change the world with a Fortune 500 company if you don’t coddle them into being a huge pussy afraid of risk versus reward.

In regards to all this anti-bullying stuff that’s popular now, I hate bullies. I fucking loathe them, actually. But are adults wasting too much time on teaching kids to tattle on bullies instead of focusing on helping them develop confidence, brass balls and the skills to handle their own problems?

I’m not saying that adults shouldn’t step in if things get out of hand but to some degree, a child needs to learn how to stand up against an asshole because they will face many more in life. Also, this teaches the kids to always rely on authority and not themselves. Relying on authority usually comes with a pretty shitty outcome.

And nowadays, the things that are considered “bullying” are fucking laughable. Expressing a different opinion is “bullying” in 2018. This article, by many, even though I single no one out, is probably considered “bullying”.

So, do you want your child equipped to properly handle adulthood? Or do you want them to be a crybaby bitch scared of jerks, living at home at twenty-seven with a bedroom full of participation ribbons?

I hate helicopter parents. If you don’t know what they are, Google it. The problem is that there are so many nowadays. I deal with the ramifications of it on a daily basis, working with younger people. And I’m only thirty-six, I’m not that old.

However, this millennial generation has been coddled to death. They are leaving college, entering the workforce and many of them can’t handle a normal amount of daily adversity and challenges. They shutdown, call their parents and panic. They also don’t have good problem solving or time management skills. They need that parental figure to constantly push them and they need constant validation and acceptance. They don’t understand work relationships versus friendship. They also don’t understand why not everyone gets raises and aren’t asked to participate in certain projects. They’re a lost generation that expect the world to be easy and for their hand to be held at all times.

Granted, I have met many younger people who are the antithesis of this. I am not saying that it effects every millennial-aged person but it is still large enough to be an epidemic. There just don’t seem to be enough of the good ones.

So, is the future bright when we are going to have adult-sized toddlers running the show?

But who am I? I’m just some insensitive asshole that hates kids according to helicopter parents and overly-invested, overly-sensitive teachers. But I don’t give a shit what they think about me, I just give a shit about what they’re doing to the future.

Retro Relapse: 25 Types of Old People You’ll Find In a Florida Grocery Store

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2016.

It is once again “season” in Florida. Our roads are overtaken by old folks who have a hard time doing anything faster than twenty miles per hour under the posted speed limit. They also try to take you out like you’re trapped in a modern version of Death Race 2000 played in ultra slow motion.

But they aren’t just horrendous drivers trying to murder the residents of the towns they invade, they are also awful at navigating grocery stores. At the very least, they are just in the way and hold up lines and a person’s progress at trying to get in, get food and get the fuck out.

These are the twenty-five most common types of old people you will run into in a Florida grocery store this time of year. Then again, with more and more becoming permanent residents, this is evolving into a year round epidemic.

1. The Banker – This is the old person that has groceries totaling $87.49 and insists on counting out pennies for that entire amount.

2. The Free Sample Congregation – This is a group that grows and refuses to move on because someone is handing out tiny spoons with tapioca on them. They usually stand in front of the aisle with the one thing you need to grab quickly.

3. The Deli Counter Diddler – This is that jerk who is in front of you in line at the deli counter and insists upon trying every single cold cut in the window and some of them twice.

4. The Cart Kamikaze – We’ve all been hit by this asshole. They’re the ones who just come right at you with their shopping cart and smash into you while making eye contact the whole time. Oh, they see you. They just don’t give a shit.

5. The Scooter Kamikaze – Same as above but way more dangerous as this jackoff is piloting a motorized scooter at top speed. They often times knock over elaborate displays throughout the store without a single care in the world.

6. The Looper – This is that old person who keeps looping around the same two aisles over and over. They don’t even seem to be looking for anything specific. I’m not sure if they are lost, confused or the grocery store equivalent to mall walkers.

7. The Cigarette and Lotto Arguer – The angry old coot that holds up the line yelling at the clerk as to which cigarettes or lottery ticket they want even though the clerk has their hand on the correct one.

8. The Pirate Candy Sampler – The douchebag that sticks their dirty hand in the candy bins and samples the treats.

9. The Backseat Driver – The old lady that bosses her hubby around as he’s driving the cart, further confusing him and turning them into a two-person cart kamikaze tandem.

10. The Life Story Check Writer – The old woman who writes a check and takes way more time than necessary, as if she’s writing an entry in her diary. She often asks for the clerk to help her read the check, as she writes it because the sections on a check are apparently never in the same place.

11. The Parking Lot Zombie – Does this need an explanation? Just be careful, they are dangerous and are always aiming for you and your vehicle.

12. The Expired Coupon Pusher – The grumpy old lady that wants a box of Betty Crocker three cheese potatoes au gratin for 35 cents because she has a coupon from 1987. The argument with the cashier can last up to 45 minutes.

13. The Confused Tortoise – This is the jerk that somehow pulls in front of you and walks at speeds that rival a snail. They go up the middle of the aisle and sway left, then right, then left again. You can never get around them and they don’t care that you are behind them because young people need to slow down and enjoy the beautiful sights of canned vegetables.

14. The Dead Beat Parent – This is that phantom person that abandons their full cart of frozen goods in the middle of a busy aisle. I’m not 100 percent sure if they are old but they probably are.

15. The Oblivious Express Lane Invader – The clueless elderly dolt who squeezes into the express lane with two carts full of vitamins, diapers, prune juice, fish oil pills, plain yogurt, magazines and tonic water. They are either completely unaware of the giant red flashing light that says “10 Items Or Less” or they just don’t give a shit because getting old means you get special privileges.

16. The Meat Statue – This person is frozen in time – staring at the steaks or chicken, blocking your ability to just grab the meat you need. They can stay this way for hours, completely unaware that you need to grab something.

17. The Sandwich Dipshit – The old person who has never ordered a sub in their life. “What toppings do you want?” “Heh?!” “What toppings, sir?” “Veggie-tables!” “Which ones, sir?” “Heh?! Are you fucking deaf, lady?!”

18. The Door Troll – Whether you want to enter or exit, there they are – just standing there like a troll demanding payment to pass.

19. The Enquirer Enquirer – The old lady who is so caught up in reading the gossip magazines in the checkout lane that she is holding up everyone else behind her. She never buys a magazine but she makes sure to read it cover-to-cover while your pint of ice cream is melting on the floor.

20. The Pharmacy Haggler – The old guy screaming at the pharmacist about how his pills now cost 50 cents more per bottle when he has paid the same price for ten years. He goes on a twenty minute tirade about how the store is taking advantage of him and how he will never shop there again.

21. The Red Box Bully – The person confused by how Red Box works, even though they use it twice a week. They can spend hours stabbing at the same icon on the home screen with their finger or beating on the machine like an aggressive hobo.

22. The Stop and Chatterers – The two old ladies that stop in the middle of a busy aisle to chatter about how well Brian is doing in college and how much they like their new Lexus when at first, they didn’t feel comfortable driving it. It doesn’t matter that there are about twenty people trying to navigate around them.

23. The Anti-Sushi War Hero – The old warrior perplexed about how they sell sushi in grocery stores in America when we kicked Japan’s ass in ’45.

24. The Gum Returner – This is the temperamental penny-pincher that is trying to return gum or other mundane cheap items and holding up the service counter after spending two dollars in gas to get 35 cents back on stale Trident.

25. The Bank Card Chip Halfwits – This is the newest breed of old people to traverse through in the store. They’ve already learned how to do this multiple times now but are still confused at how the new card machines have to read the chip in their new bank cards. Don’t pull out!

Retro Relapse: 20 Things Porn Stars Do That I’ve Never Had the Urge to Do

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2015.

People have sex. Some people are uncomfortable talking about it. I’m not sure why, maybe the Jesus is strong in some people.

For me, it is a pretty comfortable subject. I’ve never seen the big deal. It’s just fucking sex. If you aren’t doing it, you want to do it. It is human nature to get off. For sanity’s sake, we need to get off. The more, the better.

Obviously, I maintain some decorum based off of my social audience but once the ball is rolling, it is rolling with the velocity of a pinball chugging Cuban coffee sweetened with cocaine.

Why is sex taboo? I don’t know. But it is probably the same reason Rick Santorum has held public office.

When it comes to sex, not much is off limits for me. But when I watch porn, there are often times where I say to myself, “What possesses them to do that?”

Well, this is a list of those acts. Some I don’t have a problem with if it’s your thing. Some of these I am vehemently opposed to. Regardless of where each item on this list fits on my scale of acceptability, these are things I’ve never had the primal urge to engage in.

1. Hocking a loogie on a vagina.

2. Making out with someone post-beejer, just no.

3. Sex in a moving vehicle. Tried it once, just about snapped my shaft in half on a hard turn.

4. Drinking breast milk.

5. Being the dude in a gang bang that isn’t first. Definitely not being the guy that is 412th.

6. Food involved in sex. Cool-Whip off of a titty doesn’t enhance the titty.. or the Cool-Whip.

7. Glory holes. Wait.. are those whiskers?

8. I shouldn’t have to list anything involving animals but just to be safe, no fucking animals.

9. Golden showers.

10. Creampies.

11. Eye-licking.

12. Anything on or around a toilet. Not to say I haven’t. But never again.

13. Bukake.

14. Anything involving menstruation.

15.  Beejers through a hole cut out of a pizza.

16. Tentacles.

17. Anything involving vomit.

18. Anything involving something going into my urethra.

19. Feet.

20. Anything involving poop.