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Marriage – More than a Sham

Three Men and a Legend of a Stache

One of the oddest parts of becoming twenty years of age is that looming thought that you are going to be alone for the rest of your life. In all honesty I am not writing this post to spread optimism or deny this fact for people like me; I am just here to provide my view on the life that opposes the one I indulge in as a lonely piece of crap. With that being said may I present my philosophy on the topic of marriage.

When I think about finding someone to spend the rest of my current life with, often I stop, and wonder why I think so cruelly? I mean seriously why would I want to put that on someone else? It is bad enough as it is that I have to spend every single day for the rest of my eternity with me, why put some other innocent being through that shit. Oh I know this all sounds discouraging, but let us face it; if you were some weak, lanky Jewish kid, that gets no girls, and is set to exit some small town University with no more than a degree majoring Philosophy, with minor in the absence of hope, then you probably would not be totally stoked for the future.

Being 20 and not having a lot sex is like a lot like watching your ice cream melt before you eventually eat it. Face it we are never going to look as good as we look today. Those who make it further in adulthood are going to become wrinkly and age. For men this means their hair falling out, as their penis beings to stops working as it used to, all the while women start to go through menopause, and their breast begin to sag closer to the floor with each year. A sagging breast is a melting one. Sorry for the visual, but literally it appears exactly like two scoops of ice-cream slowly drooping away. Look all I am trying to say is that I like to eat my ice cream before it melts, or I expire.

What I was trying to get at before I rambled off topic about my love for ice cream is that everyone wants to win the lottery, or become a famous artist or professional athlete, and that is simply because if given the opportunity a large majority of us would want to be someone else. We would be someone with a way cooler life. Who does not want to be something that they are not? That is why I believe the idea of marriage is a sham. If not for any reason other than that we were given the wrong choice by whoever invented it. We should all have the option of who we want to spend the rest of eternity as, instead of being given the choice of who we spend it with. Let us be honest here, if you are a guy and at twenty years of age you choose to live the life of Tom Brady, it is not as if you are going to struggle with women, or your life will not be infinitely better.

Life, who invented this shit anyway? Whoever that asshole is, I would like a word with that being, because he royally screwed this one up, and left us alone. But even worse he left my wish to be Burton Cummings Moustache unfulfilled.

Three Men and a Legend of a Stache

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A Child Predator and Me!

This is the story of the time that I met a child predator. When I typically approach a girl at a bar with that introduction I forget to give them my name along with the story, and I only end up telling them that when I was in Grade 11 that I met a child predator. This can tend to make the proceeding conversation a bit awkward. I mean it has got to be very hard for a woman to speak with a random stranger at a bar about the time he met a child predator, when she has to constantly try to figure out the guy’s name. Needless to say I have not successfully met any women at bars.

But I did successfully meet a child predator one time. I know what you are now thinking “Jacob, where did you meet a child predator?” Well my friends the answer to this question is not simple; I did not pick him up at the bar, and he did not pick me up in a habbo hotel chartroom. No, instead my child predator and I met each other inside of my house. Yeah it is weird, because from what I have now gathered he had not been invited there. He actually had broken into my house. Please calm down before you jump to any conclusions here, thankfully he was not the kind that was into the little boys, or atleast he was not into a boy in grade 11 with the body of a little boy. And everyone in this story is relatively safe. At least my older brother who was sleeping at the time, and me are safe parties.

I am not sure if it is typical for anyone reading this to skip their Grade 11 Media Studies class only to go back to their home to find a child predator is inside, but if you are ever in such a predicament here are some clear signs that will allow you to recognize it. 1) Child predators who like girls will typically will in your sister`s room, or if you are really unlucky that is actually your room. 2) The child predator will be holding your sisters underwear, or once again if you are of such luck it will be your underwear. 3) It does not matter whose underwear is being held, or in whose room this holding is going down in, but you are going to feel extremely fucking weird. One and two are not guaranteed, but the third sign is.

I recently read an article that stated that the Seattle Seahawks fans broke the Guinness world record for the loudest decibel level ever to be achieved at a stadium, thus solidifying their fans nickname as the 12th man. Guinness was not around to measure the decibel levels in the Balshin house on the faithful day I met a child predator, but I am sure that my initial reaction to meeting the child predator broke any records that had been previously held for loudest mark achieved by a dude finding a child predator in his sister’s room. That’s right – as opposed to being the big hero of the situation who reacts instantly to seeing a man in his house, instead I did the absolute opposite; as I froze in one spot and let out a shriek suited for any gruesome horror movie. Fortunately for me the child predator was very scared of little boys, or had very sensitive ears, because his reaction to seeing me was the exact same as mine to him.

For those of you now keeping score at home, right now it is the child predator and me standing face to face in my little sister`s room screaming gibberish at the top of our lungs at one and other. This eventually catches the attention of my older brother, who has just been woken up from his slumber to find this very predicament unfolding before him. For those of you who have woken up on the wrong side of the bed, it is a completely different experience altogether then waking up to a child predator, and your brother screaming at one and other inside your sister`s room. Fortunately for me, my brother reacted like the hero of the story, which I made mention of earlier. He walked in and threw the intruder to the ground. Unfortunately when they landed on the ground the child predator landed atop my brother, and immediately I reacted by jumping a top the child predator, pulling his hair, biting him, basically any attack which would never be featured in a violent movie – all the while I continued my gruesome gibberish screams. As the melee ensued I grabbed at and bit at anything that got in my way, until the child predator eventually ran out of my house screaming.

And that is the story of how I met and eventually sexually assaulted a child predator. My name is Jacob Balshin by the way – and this one goes out to all the ladies…well I guess the fellas too, but mostly only the ladies!