Domestic Violence Can Sometimes Be Funny

I mean, you almost have to give the guy credit for his restraint. I would have snapped halfway through the first song. Right?!

(For any of you ultra-sensitive neo-liberals who may be tempted (RABIDLY FROTHING) to take offense, I’ve taken the liberty of writing your response, for you. You’re welcome.)
“Oh my god! Did Rob just make a joke about domestic violence?! What a monster! That makes him way worse than the guy who committed actual violence and hit his boyfriend, right?! Wait. Hang on. It was two men? Oh. So that doesn’t really count then, right? That’s like when two minorities fight. It doesn’t matter unless they hit a person of different racial origin, because that’s just a part of their culture and we have to respect that, right? God. Rob is such a bad person for making light of sad things that are, in fact, incredibly nuanced and really require a much deeper and wiser analysis than I am capable of. I resent him for making me think about things that make me uncomfortable. There are just some things that are too sacred, to me personally, for Rob to be allowed to make jokes about. There should be rules about that. Because critical thinking and informed debate and irony are just too hard for me to grasp, and my parents always told me I was special and that I would grow up to be super amazing. The purpose of comedy is to make ME feel better about things that bother ME, right? Thinking is hard.”

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Facebook Wants Me to Friend a Rapist

Garbage bagsFacebook is currently recommending a known rapist to me as a “person I may know.” Awesome. It wouldn’t bother me nearly as much if they would just include a home address, so I could pick up some special supplies at Home Depot real quick, before I pop over and say hi. Nothing much. Just some rolls of plastic sheeting. Maybe a saw, or two.

Oh, sorry? Am I supposed to pretend that rapists don’t inspire bloodthirst? See, I write these “jokes” to help me calm down. Because right now I am furious. I am furious at our pathetic, biased and impotent “justice” system. No amount of punishment is severe enough for these so-called “people.” Sexual abuse is perhaps the most heinous, violent and unforgivable act that can be perpetrated on a person. An act of sexual abuse is a crime against all of Humanity, because sexual abuse is contagious. It is, all too often, passed from the abuser to the victim, where it morphs and mutates and grows and ultimately passes on to other innocents, creating an escalating cycle of pain and suffering that affects future victims, their friends and families, and society, as a whole.  Continue reading

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I Go Get New Drugs at the Pharmacist

Last week, my doctor prescribed me some anti-depressants to help me stop crying all the time. It was an exciting event for me, because I don’t like crying all the time. The doctor’s office called in my prescription to the Safeway down the street, which is maybe the most depressing place in Portland. It nearly qualifies as an anti-depressant all on its own. If you’re ever having a bad day, take 5 minutes and pop over there. I promise you, most, if not all, of the other people in there are having a day far worse than yours. So anyway, I headed out of the doctor’s office, on foot, and walked with a vague optimism down NE Broadway toward Safeway, and the uncharted mental territory that waited for me inside of a pill bottle. I walked in through the automated sliding doors and headed through the frosty frozen foods section, instantly causing the sweat soaking my face and clothes to turn me, momentarily, into a lumbering, shivering manatee-shaped Popsicle with legs. I arrived at the back counter, and proceeded to have an interesting conversation with the pharmacist.

“So is this one of those where I’m not supposed to drink or tell jokes or expect to ever get up again” I ask. No response. “Does insurance usually cover this stuff” I ask.

“Yeah,” replies the pharmacist. “Usually.”

“Well that’d be a nice change of pace. The only thing they ever seem to accept is my monthly payment. They’d better cover this though, if they want to keep me alive to keep paying that bill. It’s just basic economics, really. I don’t understand how they don’t get that. Dead customers aren’t great for business. Amiright?!” Some of the women giggle with jaded amusement behind the counter. I am killing it today. Continue reading

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Fun with Craigslist, Part 2: 78% Bed Bug-free TV for Your Children, For Free

I’m not gonna lie to you, bed bugs are a real pain in the ass. They climb up into your luggage in hotels and airports and just follow you home. And then they get into EVERYTHING! Clothes, mattresses, pillows, furniture and electronics. They especially love keyboards and big huge TVs. Fortunately, this big, huge TV is no less than 78% bed bug-free! And…wait for it…it’s FREE! That’s right! This TV will cost you absolutely nothing and almost certainly does NOT come filled with an army of nefarious tiny critters that will run rampant throughout your house, causing you endless sleepless nights filled with debilitating anxiety and the horrible feeling that your body is being eaten alive. Instead, you’re almost entirely (78%+) likely to just end up with a great-big TV that you didn’t pay for. All you have to do is come to my house and pick it up. There’s no reason not to do that. My house doesn’t have bed bugs. I stuffed all of them into the TV. No, no…not THIS one…the other one…that I had to set fire to.Craigslist TV 2

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Fun with Craigslist, Part 1: Big-ass TV free to good Christian home

Big-ass TV craigslist adThis big-ass TV is yours, if you want to come and haul it away. It’s about 10 years old, and still works great. It even has a remote, if you can believe it! It has a special setting that filters out super gay stuff like RuPaul’s Drag Race and CNN’s Wolf Blitzer, so your sensitive kids are sure to be safe from the propaganda of the secret gay mafia. It weighs about as much as Gilbert Grape’s mom, so you should probably bring a friend or a chiropractor to help. I cannot help. My body is a wasteland, destroyed by years of guilt about how I don’t call my mom often enough. I’ll just open up the front door and let you come in and take it. It’s FREE! What do you expect?! Anyway, I’m looking forward to meeting you and maybe sharing a nice glass of chablis. I don’t have any of that, so it’d be nice if you brought some.

NOTE: Big-ass TV does not contain poltergeists. Definitely no poltergeists. None. Promise.

NOTE: Also probably does not have a hidden video camera inside it that will broadcast the goings-on of your living room across the Internets. Stop being so paranoid.

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OK Cupid Redux: This Time it’s Personal

2012-10-07 17.13.29My self-summary

If you’re looking for a guy who sits at home, alone, on a Saturday night, drinking bourbon and watching a marathon of Sex and the City, this is your lucky day. Call your mom and tell her the good news. It’s cool. I’ll wait. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. What’s another 10 minutes?

One time, when I was about 10, I was peeing in the woods and accidentally caught my little buddy in the zipper. I still have a scar. True story.

I have very big muscles. I can lift heavy things like grocery bags and obese pets. I also have a really big vocabulary. Like, REALLY big. If you’re into super hot guys who will totally be sexy in front of you then I am probably gonna make you get all excited. No, not really. More likely the opposite. Unless you’ve got a thing for Ewoks. And I don’t mean cosplay. I mean actual Ewoks.

Most people get on here and try to make themselves sound desirable…presenting their respective persona in the most flattering of lights. I am going to buck that trend and talk the way I talk in real life, and say the first things that come to me in an honest stream-of-consciousness sort of mental barf, because that’s what I sound like in person. I talk a lot, and I talk really, really fast…especially when I’m nervous or anxious, which is most of the time…especially around the lady-folk. I promise you though, in time you will find it endearing. After that you’ll probably get sick of me, but there will be a window, however brief, where I amuse the shit out of you.

I should tell you that I don’t have any money, so if you’re looking for a sexy guy with lots of money, I’m not him. I’m also not that sexy, in case that wasn’t obvious. It will get obviouser…

Continue reading

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For the Last* Time, Islam is NOT a Race!

islamic-symbolFor the last* time, ISLAM IS NOT A RACE! I’m going to dumb this down as much as possible, without resorting to the use of Crayons.

Religions are beliefs that people choose to accept. A race is (if anything) a set of genetic similarities shared by groups of people. People are born with those features, so it’s not really fair to judge them. On the other hand, judging a group of people for choosing to believe that murder is a justifiable punishment for mocking their religion is perfectly reasonable, and most certainly is not racist.

23% (1.57 billion people) of the planet is Muslim. 57 countries contain a Muslim majority. 62% of the Muslim population lives in Asia. Approximately 7 million Muslims live in the United States. There are Muslims everywhere, and they sure as Hell didn’t all come from Arab countries. The Muslim population is as diverse, racially, as that of Christianity. Continue reading

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Why I Will Never Stop Mocking Religion

charlieDear Christians,

Thank you for knowing how to take a joke. And thank you for not murdering me.

While we may disagree on some things, about the worst thing I can expect from you is to be unfriended, screamed at, insulted or kicked out of bed. I appreciate those of you who are willing to engage in lively, civilized debate with me. It’s good and healthy for all of us. And while I can’t help but find many of your beliefs laughably childish, comically imbecilic, and genuinely detrimental to the whole of civilization, I would defend your rights to those beliefs, and the freedom to speak about them, with my life, if necessary. But here’s the thing. I will never, ever, stop making fun of religion.

As long as there are women being honor raped or forcibly circumcised, I will not stop.

As long as there are gays being persecuted, ostracized or murdered, I will not stop.

As long as children are being taught to be ashamed of their bodies, and saddled with a lifetime of guilt and dysfunctional relationships, I will not stop.

As long as there are politicians, preachers and businessmen actively denying climate change because they believe that it is Man’s destiny to reap his fill of rewards from the Earth, undaunted, I will not stop. Continue reading

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I Just Figured Out Why I Love Drinking

You know that digital readout thing that the Terminator has that gives him all the vital stats in any given situation? I have that too. Except, instead it’s just a voice in my head reminding me of what a fuck-up I am. It says, “Hey, fat-ass! Get a job. Your whole existence is a fantasy. No one cares what you think. No one will ever love you. Your friends are embarrassed by you. Your parents wish they’d been better at birth control.”And so on.

All of these thoughts circulate through my head, more or less constantly. That means that, in any given situation, I have to cycle through this menu of self-deprecation before any action can be taken or words can be spoken. So, if I’m talking to you, it’s safe to assume that I have all of those thoughts before whatever thought that actually comes out in words. It can get exhausting.

I think that’s what makes me a drug and alcohol person. Chemicals have a nice way of stripping out all that noise. I think that’s why I tend to be more creative and/or funny when drunk or hungover. That’s when I just get to be me. That’s when it’s fun.


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I Had a Dream About My High School Reunion

SWHS logoLast night, I had the strangest dream about my upcoming high school reunion. It wasn’t a dream, so much as a twisted, soul-crushing nightmare. Not altogether different from my actual high school experience, actually. To put things in perspective: I woke up suddenly, in a panicked state. Breathing heavily. So, of course, I picked up my phone and started looking for distractions. I somehow came upon a collection of pictures* featuring all sorts of horrifying bugs and snakes and other assorted monsters that evidently haunt the streets and toilets of Australia. Then came a video of somebody popping a colossal pustule** of some kind on what appeared to be the back of their neck. It was…disconcerting…and certainly ranked among the most stomach-churning, vomitous events I have ever witnessed. And yet, it hasn’t bothered me nearly as much in daylight as the memories both of the dream, and of high school itself. So anyway, I guess I’m just gonna hold off on that RSVP for now, you guys.

* Don’t click on that if you’re planning to sleep again

** Seriously.

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New Resume Status: Executed

2012-11-17 14.07.53ROB LEROY

W: // E: // T: 206.883.6668

text cultivator // implementer // human channel synergizer // collateral architect


Motivated self-generator with a deep-seated drive to professionally synthesize client-forward quality vectors. Core competencies include interactively maximizing fully researched “inside the box” thinking, and continually developing multidisciplinary manufactured collateral, especially in holistically defined paradigms. My primary employment goal is to continually expedite parallel imperatives, and progressively streamline superior convergence in all tasks.


  • Conceptualized multi-disciplinary content schemes for a weight loss video campaign
  • Efficiently deployed crowdfunding campaign for local boat manufacturer
  • Strategized integrated collateral for a Kickstarter campaign for a product engineer
  • Cloudified and orchestrated text on video production marketing practices for B2B functionalities
  • Co-developed and functionalized marketing and fundraising for a documentary espousing  personal savings initiatives
  • Co-fabricated a book on career advancement and development for executive employment scenarios

Continue reading

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A Heartfelt Letter to My Disappointed Parents

Dear Mom and Dad,

Mark Twain

Photo from Wikipedia. I hope I’m crediting this, correctly. Please don’t sue me.

Mark Twain published Tom Sawyer in 1876, at the age of 41. He then published Huckleberry Finn in 1883, at the age of 47, give or take. Prior to this time he was basically unknown. He bounced from town to town, and job to job, trying to find his place in the world.  Ernest Hemingway (a writer of some note) later wrote that “All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain called Huckleberry Finn.” Now, I am not saying that I can compare to Mr. Twain, nor do I ever expect to receive such a glowing review from Mr. Hemingway. What I’m saying is, maybe just calm down a little bit and try having some faith in me. It would go a long way toward making our phone calls a little less tense. Not everybody can figure their shit out in their 20’s, and I think it would be real nice if you would just…blah blah blah. Oh, fuck it. I’m just gonna drink some more wine and then make you stand in line for an autograph when I finally get published.

I will say this, though- A life without art is no life, at all. If I can make just one person laugh, or think twice, or even just feel something, every day, then I have contributed something of value to Humanity. I’m not built for a day job. Sorry. It seems to me that you should be proud of that. Or at least feel kinda cool. I mean, what parent really dreams of hatching a mid-level executive at a vacuum factory? I don’t expect you to see my point, but I’m glad I made it.

Hugs forever, Rob

PS: Apologies to any vacuum factory executives who may have taken offense. It’s nothing personal.

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Great Moments in Unemployment: Volume 2

This morning, a friend sent me a link to a job opportunity in Seattle. It’s a web-based-B2B-something-something-travel-site that is hiring for a whole bunch of positions. The application process was two parts; a form on their website, and an e-mail with cover letter and resume.
Greetings from Endor

The final question on the form asked: “If you were a planet, which one would you be, and why?” So, of course, my answer was rad.

“Endor. Definitely Endor. Because I’m short, stocky and furry. Also, I carry a spear most days.

Technically, Endor is a moon, not a planet. I hope I won’t lose points for that. I mean, it has all of the properties of a planet. It sustains LIFE, for crying out loud! Hardly any of the planets can do that. So, let’s not get hung up on scientific semantics. I’m not applying to be a scientist, after all.”

And then I submitted my cover letter and resume, along with the following e-mail. Continue reading

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Great Moments in Unemployment: Volume 1

Today, I received this response from a company to which I’d applied, a few weeks ago. The company,, produces a variety of educational videos geared toward everything from household how-to projects, to photography tutorials, to history lessons. They were looking for marketing people, or something. I don’t remember, but it really doesn’t matter. Looks like it’ll be a bit longer before I can start paying that pesky back-rent. My parents continue to be proud.


“Hi Rob, Thanks for your interest in Curious, and sorry for the delay in getting back to you. I gotta say, a cover letter that… bold… basically narrows the companies who will give you an interview. Unfortunately, we’re not one of those companies. But we wish you the best of luck in finding the perfect match for you! Cheers”

The job posting requested the usual resume/cover letter combo, plus “a cover letter which states your “bucket learning list” of five things you want to learn before you kick the aforementioned bucket”. Here’s what I sent. Continue reading

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School Shootings Are Up and Business is Booming


So, what happens if they aim at the front? Or ANY of the 3-out-of-4 sides that are not protected?

In the wake of yet another school shooting, this time in my hometown of Seattle, in a neighborhood very familiar to me, there has been another round of the same tired, he-said-she-said debate between insecure, sex-starved illiterate gun enthusiasts and love-mongering, spineless, patchouli-swilling opponents of gun-based child murder. But there is something different, this time. A new player has emerged. While the proponents of “freedom at all costs” wage their endless battle with the “actual gun violence is way scarier than hypothetical government tyranny, and should therefore take precedence over an outdated and generally misunderstood Constitutional Amendment” crowd, somebody actually figured out a way to make some money off of all this fear, loathing and child slaughter.  Wait, what? Continue reading

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