How do I casually eavesdrop on other conversations without being obvious?

Eavesdropping is an activity that humans have practiced long before anything important was ever said. After people realized that they can use this overheard information for spying or amusement, it became hard to resist the urge of listening to strangers gossip about people who you will most likely never meet. While eavesdropping can be fun, obviously participating in such a timeless act without utilizing the proper stealth and espionage involved in eavesdropping can lead to awkwardness, violence, adult situations, drug use and fantasy violence.

Surprisingly, people do not like to be listened to by an outside party. Furthermore, they do not like to be watched from any sort of distance, nor smelled or rubbed up on while riding the bus. Though these things will forever be part of the mystery that is mankind, it is something you should definitely account for. Do not make grand gestures that remove doubt that you are eavesdropping. At the very least, do not use an old-timey ear-horn pointed directly at the table next to you. If you want to passively spy more effectively, here are some quick "eaves" you can "drop" on. (I don't know what that means. Wordplay confuses and scares me.)

1.) Headphones Heads-up - Since we live in a wonderland of technology, headphones are easy to come by. With a pair of these badboys, you do not even need an MP3 player to offer some entertainment. Simply have the cord coming from your pocket or book-bag, and everyone will assume you are jamming to some Pat Boone, and not learning about how the one time they and Jim got drunk and totally hooked up, but it was really odd because Jim is their pet ferret.

(Note: do not use noise cancellation headphones. They are not meant for this.)

2.) Look Occupied - Try to have something around you that you must constantly attend to. If you are at a coffee shop, constantly stir more sugar into your coffee. Look like you are really into that day's crossword puzzle, even if you don't know what 33 letter website is "a modern day Plato's 'The Republic" (we'll give you a hint: it rhymes with ble blurvival bluide blo bleveryblay blife. blom). If you are on the bus, try smelling and rubbing up on people.

3.) Do not become attached - Everyone on the field of eavesdropping is told one truth about living this lifestyle, and that is to never fall in love. If you happen to find yourself completely taken by someone, you cannot follow them, or use information obtained in your eavesdropping as to where they are going to be later (it's like how evidence can't be used in court if it was obtained without a warrant, only with more emphasis on social respectability and not being a creepjob). This helps you not become a stalker and avoid the pitfalls of stalking like thornbushes and locks.

Mr. Jones, can you tell us about the time you made love to a black woman?

Well, I don’t really see how this is going to help anyone with anything. Then again, you could argue that such a story could enrich the lives of countless people and last time I checked enriching the lives of countless people was my responsibility.

Like many stories of passion it starts and ends with a castle. Unlike most stories of passion however, the castle was located on a mini-golf course between a hole with a giant Paul Bunyan statue and a hole with a windmill that had a nasty reputation of making guys look like kind of a douche in front of their dates.

We never did make it to the windmill.

Wait, hold on. It didn’t start with the castle. It couldn’t start at the castle because I had to pay before I got on the course and the place where you pay and the castle were two totally different places. My mistake. It still ended with one, though.

Anyway, I went mini-golfing by myself as I often do when I find myself troubled. What was troubling me, you ask? Honestly, the details are personal and I’m really not at liberty to tell.

On a completely unrelated note, Becky is still a huge bitch.

I saw her when I went to pay for my admission. Sometimes I still see her when I close my eyes. Or when I drive by the mini-golf place and she’s working. I knew it cost $7.50 for a round, but I did not know it was also going to cost me a piece of my heart and that she was going to keep the change. When I say she kept the change I’m referring to my heart and not actual money. If she short-changed me I probably would have said something and lovemaking would not have occurred because she would probably have thought me a bit of an asshole for calling her out on her mistake.

She was something else, though; practically perfect in every way. She was shorter than me, which is a huge deal for me. I mean I’m only like five foot seven so you can see how this is important. She also weighed less than me. Another huge bonus. Other than that, she was pretty normal. As far as black chicks go.

It should be noted that I usually mini-golf with two balls when I’m alone and sorting things out. Sometimes this causes issues depending on whose behind the counter. If this bothered her, she showed no sign that it did. I paid her and she handed my club. I thanked her, but my voice was shaky. Embarrassed at the sound of my voice, I began to sweat uncontrollably. She found this endearing and she smiled at me. At this point, a white girl would probably have spit in my face.

“What color balls do you normally golf with?” she asked.
“Blue,” I said.
She placed her hands over mine.
“Not today, you don’t.”

She grabbed my hand and led me to the castle on hole 8. She opened a tiny maitenence hatch and led me inside. I asked her what we were doing and she just giggled. I pretty much assumed she wanted to bang me from the get go, but I figured I’d ask anyway.

What happened inside that little castle on that unassuming par two was nothing short of magical. Our love was primal and raw, while at the same time maintaining a touch of civility. I was forceful and she loved it. I bet she felt like the Titanic as it crashed into that iceberg on that fateful night.

Actually, no. She probably didn’t. That’s a bad simile. A boat crashing into ice does not feel good. She probably felt like someone who was having really good sex. Which she was.

When we left that castle, a family of five looked on in awe. The mother started to clap but her husband stopped her. We also managed to accidentally switch pants in the darkness of that castle, so maybe they were just horrified.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the story that will continue to enrich your life.

Edit by Leon Firestone: Yeah, I'm pretty sure this never happened. And I don’t know who Becky is either.

Edit by Mr. Jones: You know what? Maybe it didn’t happen. Maybe I like writing a special genre of erotica where unassuming white guys partake in no-strings-attached interracial sex.

Edit by Leon Firestone: That’s not a genre.

Edit by Mr. Jones: Yet.

How do I ghost ride?

Ghost riding is the latest extreme sport phenomenon, brought to the world by the world of "hip-hop." This is not to be confused with hell's hitman Ghost Rider, or even Ghostwriter, the bouncing green dot that helped a group of ethnically diverse kids solve mysteries in the name of public broadcast television. This ghost riding involves dancing around or on top of a car that is moving and also "blasting" "phat/fresh" beats.

Ghost riding is not a new concept. In fact, ghost riders have been present at the biggest events in recent history.








While the sport is regarded safer than watching Ghost Rider and Ghostwriter, there are a few guidelines one should follow when "getting dumb."

Wear tight clothes - Cars have a lot of intricate facets that can do a number on your clothes if they are too baggy. Throw out the "loose jeans" and big jackets for some nice, lung strangling shirts and manhood-showing pants. Worst case scenario, the less clothes the better.

Mix up your moves - Variety is the spice of life, and also the spice of all the sweet moves you can pull off/on your slowly rolling Ford Fiesta. Sure, you can hang off of the doors the entire time if you wanted, but why not try some more traditional dances, but just one the roof? Think of your Ford Fiesta as a parade float, and instead of waving to the onlookers, you are just busting phat moves in their direction. Also, try waving and throwing candy out.

The Wheelz - While I just assume you own a Ford Fiesta, that doesn't mean that it is the only car you should use to ghost ride (although Consumer Reports would say otherwise.) However, because it has "Fiesta" in the name, and "Fiesta" is German for party (and you know how those Germans love to ghost ride), it makes for a solid choice. However, any car should work if as long as it is colorful, stands apart from others, and proud.

If you are wondering how all of this comes together, here is an example picture you can use for your own ghost riding adventures.

Is cheerleading a sport?

Essentially, what we have here is an issue of semantics. In order to figure out whether cheerleading is a sport or not we’re going to have to define sport.

Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary defines sport as:

1 a: a source of diversion b: sexual play c (1): physical activity engaged in for pleasure (2): a particular activity (as an athletic game) so engaged in

Well, that tells us jack shit.

By this logic, masturbating can be sport because it’s a source of diversion, sexual play, a physical activity engaged in for pleasure, and a particular activity that is certainly athletic in some sense of the word.

Alright, so we need to find some common ground here. I think we can all agree basketball is a sport, right? Then let’s look at some characteristics of basketball:

• Has a point scoring system
• Involves a ball
• Black people are good at it
• People sweat when they play it

Hmm. Not all sports have a point scoring system. The discus throw doesn’t involve points. You are judged based on how far you can chuck the disc but you don’t earn points. And the discus throw is definitely a sport because it’s part of the Olympics. It also doesn’t use a ball so that theory is out.

Hockey is also a sport that doesn’t use a ball. And black people definitely are not good at it. I dunno why. I think it scares them. I can’t really blame them, though.

So for something to be a sport its participants have to sweat.

But that doesn’t make sense either, because I have been known to clear the sweat off my brow after a jerk-session and we’ve already established masturbating, although it can be done in a competitive setting, is not a sport. My dad also sweats uncontrollably when he eats and eating isn’t a sport unless it involves Asian people and lots of hot dogs.

We’re missing something here. Oh! A sport must be able to declare a winner.

But that still doesn’t work because online gaming can have winners and I know there is a guy somewhere that sweats while playing Unreal Tournament. That guy is also probably really good at it and wins frequently. Even still, Unreal Tournament is definitely not a sport.

Fuck it. You know what, Becky? I’m sick of your shit. You win. Cheerleading is a sport. You’re right.

But I think we can all agree you’re still a huge bitch.

House Calls: F.A.S.

Causes: You earned a night on the town with friends. Hell, you deserve it. Having to lug this failure in your stomach for the last few months has really taken it out of you. It's time that you just sit back, relax, smoke a pack, crack open several bottles of Grey Goose, dust off the ol' crack pipe, get the paint cans from under the garage, get the tractors ready to play chicken, and above all, have fun being a badass mother-to-be.

So badass in fact, that you might as well stretch out this binge for the next 7 months of pregnancy.

Synopsis: Babies are cute and cuddly. Their appearance can make even the most hardened criminal stop and "awww," until he is cut down by the police who were in pursuit of him, effectively traumatizing the child for life. But what if you had a baby that was cute, cuddly, and can shred a half-pipe while snorting coke off of another skater's board mid-air? This is the magic of F.A.S. or Fucking Awesome Syndrome.

Babies who's mothers binge of every drug and extreme activity imaginable come out significantly cooler than those from plain mothers who read books, play Pictionary, and refuse to wake and bake.

Symptoms: Does your baby have F.A.S? Here is a time line of milestones that you can use in order to find out if your baby is prone to being a pimp.

Birth - Baby cuts his own umbilical cord with butterfly knife.

1-6 Months - Baby creates first bong out of discarded baby-food jars.

6 - 12 Months - He/She cannot walk yet, but dislikes the stroller in favor of ghost ridin'.

1 - 2 years - Child holds his own coke party and is a rousing failure. Let your child learn from this, for it is a very important lesson to have earlier on: just because you have cocaine doesn't mean people will hang out with you.

2 - 3 years - Child learns beer before liquor, get drunk quicker.

3 - 4 years - Potty training

4 - 5 years - Child's first entourage.

Treatments: Why would you want to be stand in the way of your baby being such a party animal? In case you feel as if you must harsh everyone's buzz, I guess you can be a responsible parent/square and set up boundaries and curfews for your child. Also, various clinics and summer camps specialize in rehabilitating your child to be a regular lame kid who draws in coloring books instead of using the crayon sleeves as a coke straw.