A day with DJ Khaled

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99 problems but a bitch ain't one

Yep. So I've always wondered what Jay-Z's 99 problems were, as he famously opined in his song...well, "99 Problems". All we know is that a bitch ain't one. Well, if a famous, wildly successful rapper like Jay-Z can have 99 bitchless problems, then surely a guy scraping by on the meager salary of a lumberjack should have just as many, if not more. So, I have decided to itemize them.

1. The car needs serviced
2. My shoes are all scuffed up, man
3. The status bar doesn't blink when I get a new message in gmail chat
4. I suck at ironing shirts...really, I'm freaking terrible
5. I'm getting terrible gas mileage
6. The Pens need to really step up their puckhandling if they want to win games 6 and 7
7. I have to do all of this stuff for work but I have no motivation
8. OMG I'm so hammered off of Zimas right now
9. Atlanta this weekend? 8 am flight Saturday? To work all weekend? Gay
10. It's hot as hell outside, and that sucks when you are a lumberjack and have to cut down trees all day
11. I haven't set any high scores in the punch-the-bag game yet
12. Beer costs money
13. I have to actually wake up in the mornings
14. The calluses on my hands are no good for jackin' it
15. I am not an eagle yet in Halo
16. All of my pens suck
17. There is WAYYYYY too much techno played around me on a daily basis
18. I just cut my hair short and could probably sell ad space on my forehead
19. I have to park under trees at work and that gets the whip dirty
20. It says that this milk has a "sell by" date of 4 days ago, but is it still drinkable?
21. I don't think that this detergent is leaving my colors vibrant enough
22. Am I gangster enough?
23. They don't make Rogaine for a receding pube-line
24. I can't solve this expert Sudoku puzzle
25. I don't agree at all with Matt Schaub's rating in Madden '09
26. Enzyte does not make me smile like the guy on the commercial
27. I'm having real problems uploading a song to my Myspace page
28. I think I may have killed a guy
29. I drafted Jarrod Saltalamacchia as my starting catcher in my fantasy baseball league
30. Gerald Laird is Mexican!?!?!
31. I can't really decide on a font that I like
32. I'm supposed to eat like, vegetables and stuff, but I don't like them as much as cows
33. I need some new jeans
34. My watch sucks
35. Gunpowder Jones hasn't blown up yet!
36. I have a weak internet signal
37. I don't really trust this homemade meth that I just created
38. I'm hungry, but I would like to eat souls
39. The batteries on my calculator are running low
40. I can't get any studio time for my rhymes
41. I'm not moving any bricks or rocks or anything like that
42. Why the fuck does Taco Bell pair the grilled stuft burrito with nachos in combo 2? I don't want any damn nachos
43. I hope it's not a man on the other end of this glory hole
44. I don't have speakers at work
45. I can't find the ticket for a free Whopper that I have laying around somewhere
46. Seriously, I don't want any fucking nachos
47. Pushups hurt
48. There is no PBR in South Florida!!!!
49. Every time I shotgun Busch Light my keys get all nasty
50. I could bottle ballsweat by the liter right now
51. This keyboard is dirty as fuck
52. Microsoft Word makes me want to punch my monitor
53. I HAVE RAPPER'S BLOCK
54. I went to college! So I'm in debt
55. I got a car! So I'm in debt
56. My damn car insurance tripled in Florida
57. Who the hell stole my jizzrag?
58. I don't think I can sleep without a steady dose of Colt 45
59. While I may be God's gift to women, I'm certainly not God's gift to chemical engineering
60. I think my hairline is melting away faster than the glaciers
61. I'm still paying off the mortgage I took out to get a Bud Light at a bar last weekend
62. I lost my damn moped key in Key West
63. I don't think I can afford to live down here after December
64. Did I just piss in my own sink?
65. I think this list is giving me Carpal Tunnel
66. The air conditioning is kind of f-ed up in my room
67. Great, another friend request from a Myspace spammer
68. Willie Parker owes me $20
69. Yeah, I'm probably a pretty healthy candidate for a DUI right about now
70. My mousepad needs replaced pretty badly
71. I'm pretty sure no one actually reads this
72. If I stare at this computer any longer my eyes are going to evaporate
73. I don't even think I'd have a good standard of living in Haiti on this salary
74. God damn it, every time I go in the ocean I get salt in my eyes
75. What the hell are you doing, Malkin?
76. Somebody just spilled beer on me
77. I am probably going to get caught in the rain with the top down today
78. Our carpet is dirtier than Jenna Jameson's after a hard day's work
79. THIS ORANGE JUICE HAS PULP IN IT!!!!!
80. Thank you, emailers, but I don't want to order any Viagra at this moment in time
81. I hate my commute
82. I am running out of fucking paperclips!
83. I don't know if I'll be able to get time off to visit my family for Kwanzaa
84. I haven't made it rain in months
85. No one is impressed by my ability to properly spell Reykjavik
86. I have no idea what Paul Castronovo and Sir Winston Churchill have in common
87. I think I'm coming down with something...like, AIDS
88. These documents aren't going to PDF themselves
89. I don't know the Boot Scootin' Boogie at Round Up yet
90. My hookup for cheap roofies moved to Wisconsin
91. My globe does not have "Eritrea" on it, and is therefore outdated
92. I just made that up, as I do not have a globe, but I really want one
93. Tim Tebow already circumcised the children in Pakistan, leaving one less career choice for me to pursue
94. My microphone will not record in stereo
95. If this computer freezes one more time I swear I will cock-whip it
96. My penis hurts from cock-whipping this computer
97. These Magnum condoms don't fit and I can't find my receipt to return them
98. I am out of small children to sacrifice to Dave Thomas
99. I never beat Oregon Trail without choosing the banker

Assless slacks

Professional, yet daring. Casual, and certainly casually inviting. Make it happen, Dockers.

I hold this microphone like a penis

Hey, Mike?

- Yes, Pierre?

Am I the only one that imagines holding the mic just like I would a penis?

- Not at all. I also pattern my mic holding technique after that which I would employ while firmly but respectfully grasping a penis.

That's great to hear! For awhile there, I thought I was the only guy that did this. Talking hockey really just comes second nature when I imagine myself grasping a beautiful penis at the same time. The analysis flows out of me, just as sperm would flow out of this microphone if it were indeed a penis. It's not, fortunately, because you can imagine the "pie in the face" moments I would have on live TV if it were!

- LOL, Pierre! I would be ROFL-ing all over the place if that happened! They'd call me "Awful ROFL"!

OMG, that would be sooooooo you! That would be such a Mike Milbury thing to do! Oh my God, how relaxed are you getting from all of this penis talk!

- I'm loose as a goose right now, buddy! Really relaxed! You think Barry Melrose holds the mic like a penis?

I don't want to make love up in this club

I don't even know why I'm in this club. I hate clubs. Plus, I've lost my glowsticks and I'm running out of hair gel. HOW CAN I SPIKE MY HAIR WITH WATER!!!! Hair gel is forever, like diamonds. Or herpes. It's a lot easier to lose a diamond than it is to lose herpes. Or so I'm told.

But, regardless, I would like to make some love. To somebody. With a pulse. Hopefully she weighs less than me. I'm clocking in at about 182 lbs. these days, so that's not too tall an order. Maybe I'll take you over to this dive bar. We could make love there, no? Sure we can. Let's go.

Alright, if you aren't into that, can we leave this little entertainment complex to go get it on somewhere? Like, I don't know, in my garage? Or maybe...in your mouth? Can I make love in your mouth? You can give me road head WITH the top down. How freaky would that be? Adina Howard wouldn't even be down with that.

God damn it. Fine. Walk away. Why do I go to these clubs with all of these gold-digging prudes? You want me to buy you a drink and you won't even take a Bud Light, even though it's on sale? I mean, special? What. The. Fuck. Fine. Fuck off. And don't come back until...whoa, look at that chick. Hold up, I'll be right back.

Hey, Myanmar

Yeah, it's me, Marvin Lewis, head coach. Cincinnati Bengals. National Football League. In it to win it. Listen up. Life fucking goes on. I know you just had some hurricane or typhoid or something, but at some point you've got to man the fuck up and get over it. The hurricane was weeks ago. You hear me, Burma?


I know you may have lost some family members, but they've been buried for awhile now. Well, that is, if they have been found yet. Look, I know it's tough, but you really need to stop bitching and fucking pull it together if you want to keep your jobs.

Hello, I would like to titfuck you

Hey there. Wanna show me your tits?

I usually find myself out at night, or, well, at any time of the day, wondering exactly how I can politely walk up to a young lady and tell her that, hey, those are some nice tits. Why would these broads flip out? That's a compliment, woman! Take it! Be flattered! And then let me titfuck you.

I also want to ID some of these chick's titties, because they can't be more than 2 years old. South Florida is awesome! WELCOME TO COUGAR COUNTRY!!! As far as I'm concerned, I am living in the largest natural cougar wildlife preserve in the country.

The court-martialing of Pfc. Kellen Winslow

Let's begin the proceedings. Private First Class Winslow, you have been charged with desertion and dereliction of duty and anything else military-ish that actually happens during these proceedings, since I am clueless. For reals. What is your troop, soldier?



I'M A SOLDIER!!! I'M A FUCKING SOLDIER!!!!! YOU DON'T PULL THAT FUCKING SHIT ON ME 'CAUSE I'M A FUCKING SOLDIERRRRRRRRRRR


Kellen, please. Your honor, please refer all questions for my client to me.



*whispers* but I'm a fucking soldier, Philip */whispers*


I know, Kellen. I know.

Your honor, Private Winslow is a member of the Cleveland Browns troop, offensive unit, where he is stationed as a tight end. Why are you a caricature, if I may ask?


This is all I could find on Google images.


Fair enough.


Mr. Savage?

Mr. Savage, was Private Winslow given permission to skip this voluntary minicamp that he has not made himself present at?


Absolutely not. Why the fuck am I even here? Does he realize that he isn't a real soldier?


Objection! My client believing he is a soldier is not hurting anybody, nor is it relevant to this case.


It's absolutely relevant, we are at a court martial proceeding. Look, Kellen, we aren't renewing your deal. We've already shown a great deal of faith in guaranteeing your previous contract in light of your various misdeeds. Remember how you laid on the concrete like a broad after your motorcycle accident?



THE SOLDIER WILL NOT FUCKING RE-UP WITHOUT A NEW FUCKING CONTRACT!!! I'M THE ONLY FUCKING SOLDIER ON YOUR FUCKING TEAM! I'M FROM THE U, BABY!!! THE UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU


Kellen, please. Mr. Savage, we appreciate what you have done for my client, however, this is a business, and it just so happens that my client has performed at a level higher than any other tight end in any other offensive troop unit, and he's only getting better. The soldier is still young, and that's just how it works.


Awww, thank you Philip, you called me The Soldier.


Listen, he signed his name on the contract. No one forced him to do so. We bent over backwards for him in the past, and we are not going to do it again. We'd like to see another good year and continued good behavior. And in the meantime, you have to show the fuck up.


It's voluntary. He doesn't really have to show up, technically.



Your mom is voluntary.

OBJECTION!!!!


ORDER!!!! I will not tolerate any more of this.


Your honor, you know what comes up with the second hit when you Google search for "court martial"? Check it out.



Baby, you gotta meet up with The Soldier.


This is ridiculous. I've heard enough. I'm sorry, but these minicamps are not mandatory, and therefore the soldier in question has not done anything for which he has incurred a violation. There will be no further discipline. Case dismissed. Do they even say that in a court martialing?


FREEDOM!!!!! Y'ALL CAN SUCK MY FREE DICK!!!! I'M A FUCKING SOLDIER!!!!!


Will we be serving refreshments?

I’m standing knee-deep in puddles of my own ball sweat

Fucking Florida. It's as hot as my singed pubes after banging a homeless chick in front of a makeshift bonfire. Jeans do not belong here. Nor do long-sleeve collared shirts. God damn it, man. These shoes are not waterproof, let alone ball sweat proof. This ball sweat is seeping through my socks like the jizz on a piece of circle-jerk bread. And not any of that fancy herbs and cheese bread at Subway. Fuck that. We use straight up Publix rye here. And I don't even like rye bread.

So what am I going to do? Now that I have air conditioning in both my car and room, it won't be nearly as bad as last summer, right? No. No way. It can't be. Last summer I arrived at work everyday looking like I was covered in placenta. It's 98 degrees in the morning, like turning on your radio with a Nick Lachey CD in it. And then I would proceed to sweat like a Florida public school student in a Korean math contest. I must have smelled like desire. And then I would return home in the afternoon sun, walk into the garage my room with a vapid, trancelike glare on my face, and get all up on the fan like it was giving me a lapdance at Eden. Apparently I live my life in simile.

So now it starts anew. But I'll have the air. And with the air, I can get by. I can survive. I'm a regular Gloria Gaynor. You hear that, The Sun? Let's get it on, motherfucker. Water's getting warm. Hurricane Vern is forming. Don't feed it, The Sun. Don't fucking feed it.

Greetings, white devils.

And I am being kind in the use of that nomenclature. Did you hear that? Nomenclature. Does that sounds threatening coming from a black man? Did white America even realize that a black man is capable of the utilization of words containing more than two syllables? Would you feel more comfortable if I was talking to you from the home that you give to thousands of young black men every day?



There, I imagine that is better. Behind these bars, the white folks are safe from me preaching the truth about America. The cold, hard, big black truth that you all fear. The truth that makes your ears bleed, your eyes sting, and your pubes fall out unnaturally. I know...I KNOW...that the white man created AIDS. I KNOW...that the white man causes hurricanes. AND I KNOW...I KNOW!!!!...that the white man shot Old Yeller. I SAW IT IN THE MOVIE!!!!

Young black men!


Yes?


YOU MUST HEED MY CALL! You young black men are the future of blackness in this country. YOU MUST BREAK THE FIGURATIVE CHAINS OF OPPRESSION! You must demand change from the white devils. You must demand accountability from the white man. You must demand that the dealer at Hyundai not assume that you are looking for an Elantra when you so clearly have good enough credit to afford the Sonata. Credit! ANOTHER CREATION OF THE WHITE MAN! Designed to keep the black man in check, to keep him wallowing in poverty. As my friend and presidential candidate Barack Obama so stated in his book, "The Audacity of Hope", young black men MUST hope for this hope! IT IS THE ONLY WAY TO HOPE! It is not audacious for us to hope for change and hope! To one day take over America, and banish these white devils! We must give our young brethren something to look forward to besides a life of poverty or incarceration! WE MUST DESTROY THE PILLARS OF WHITE AMERICA!!!!


Holy fuck. This is not good.

"Also, I lay on the ice like a broad."

How much does Daniel Briere make to lay on the ice like a broad? Glad you asked. $10 million. Tied with two other dudes, Thomas Vanek and Scott Gomez (Scott fucking Gomez? jeeeez), as the highest paid players in the NHL. Obviously, the guy has to consider himself an elite level player in the sport of puck-shuffling.

Nope.

"I've never considered myself a superstar," said a smiling Briere, who signed an US$52-million, eight-year free-agent deal with the Flyers last summer. "Obviously, they might get protected a little bit more. That's understandable, but when they do some of the cheap shots that they're doing I think it would be fair for everybody that they get the same treatment in that regard."

His cheap shots were in reference to the Penguin cheap shots that, well, I'm still trying to figure out which ones he was referring to. Probably just earning his endorsement money, as he has a six-figure deal with Always (with wings).

More importantly, the highest paid player in the damn sport is claiming that he should not be considered a superstar. Motherfucker, you are compensated better than any player in the damn league. This would be like Jenna Jameson claiming she was not a talented dicksucker. You ARE dicksucking, you bitch. But hey, everybody aboard the "Pens + the refs" bandwagon, complete with nonstop service to the Menstruation Station.