Why, Hello There...

I've never posted on a Friday night. Ever. Not once in my whole two plus years of writing here at OFTOT. Nor did I have any firm plans to ever do so.

But frankly, this video is way too ridic.

Apparently these chicks are students at Point Park. If anyone can confirm this, good for you. Know what I'm sayin?

Two things to say about this...
1. I still hate this friggin' song
2. If you're one of these chicks - hey baby, call me

h/t Gunaxin and Josh Q. Public

OH, and because I'm posting right now, I might as well alert you to this piece of trash masquerading as responsible journalism. Someone needs to explain to Mark Kriegel that if the 70's Steelers were in fact juicing, so was everyone else. Here's a tip - never trust what a Bengal says about the Steelers (whether there's truth to it or not). All that matters is - Sixburgh, asshole.

Your Daily Dose of FAIL! From OFTOT...

People who take the elevator one floor = FAIL!

Are you serious? Listen up, man. Our building has these things on either side of the floor called stair cases, and I assure you, your ID works to open those doors as well. So there's no need for you to get on at the 5th floor, only to get right back off at the 6th and extend my elevator riding time an extra 15 seconds. Don't you know I'm trying to get back upstairs so I can attack this delicious salad (I know, I know) I've procured for myself? Get your mind right, jagoff! The stairs are your friends.

Chicks with gay best friends = Also, FAIL!

Here's the problem, here. It's not that you HAVE a gay best friend. That's totally cool. It's that you bring him out to bars and what not with you, and unless he's dressed in an extremely flamboyantly gay fashion, or trying to touch my ass, I have no way of knowing that he's not your boyfriend. And if I am to assume that any dude you're out with IS your boyfriend, in the absence of evidence to the contrary, I can't very well try and chat you up, now, can I? Of course, this assumes I had some intention of chatting you up in the first place, which is most likely not the case, because I'm a total puss when it comes to chicks. But look, you get the idea. Whatever happened to chicks traveling in packs? I guess we all left that in College? I propose that if you're a single chick, and you're going to venture out to the bar with your dude friend who likes other dudes, that you have him wear some sort of indicator, maybe like a little lighthouse beacon, or like a sherrif's badge, I don't know, I'm just spitballin' here. But something to let me know that it's a green light and he's just there for companionship. That, or I could just stop being such a pussy. But we all know that isn't going to happen anytime soon, so...sort it out, chickadees.

/end daily afternoon rant

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