I Can't Believe Benchwarmer Is a Real Company

So I was watching The Millionaire Matchmaker last week. I know that may shock some people due to my badass exterior, but I find it to be an incredibly entertaining show. But I'm not here to talk about that so much, as one of the millionaires really bothered me. He estimated his net worth to be around $5 million. That didn't really bother me either. What did bother me is how this clown made that money.

Most people on the show are involved in finances, hedge funds, or something of that nature. Basically, they steal money from hard working people until they're a millionaire. For some reason, those people don't bother me; I'm numb to their diabolical ways. But this guy was different. He created a company called Benchwarmer, and this pisses me off far more than any Wall Street jagon ever could. It is a company that makes baseball cards, but instead of athletes on the cards, it puts hot chicks on them.

I have decided to break down their About Us section to show you why this company angers me so much:

FROM HUMBLE BEGINNINGS IN 1992, Bench Warmer started as a simple idea: to putbeautiful women on baseball cards. 

Fuck you. I wish I could reach through my screen and strangle the person who wrote this. If I ever write, "From humble beginnings," please beat the shit out of me. Get a baseball bat if necessary. I'll deserve it. My only question about this idea is did they get the idea from Vegas who put hookers on cheap versions of baseball cards or did Vegas steal the idea from them? I'm guessing the former, because Vegas is the leader in everything. But here's the thing: Vegas did it better. Sure, the girls on Benchwarmer's trading cards are probably more attractive, but I can have sex with the girls on Vegas's hooker cards. And those cards are free. Is this a business surviving solely on horny men who are unable to make it to Vegas? How does that equate to a five million dollar business? Alright, maybe the next section won't bother me as much.

It was a nostalgic throwback to the Golden Era ofbaseball cards that most American boys collected – except with hot girls on them instead of sports heroes.

Every sentence just oozes arrogant douchebaggery. Let's move on before I punch something. There is no way I can make it through this whole thing.

But the owner says this business has made him worth around five million dollars. I can't imagine being a bank manager and getting asked for a business loan for that business. I would have laughed him right out of my bank. Mac, Charlie, and Dennis's plan to buy gas and then sell it in a year was a far better business plan than this guy has.

But as stupid as this business is, there is a lesson to be learned here. There are way more perverts out there than I could possibly imagine. No well-adjusted adult is buying baseball cards with hot chicks on them. I mean, if I want to check out hot chicks, I go on the internet to bars and hit on them. Ah, who am I kidding? I go on the internet too; that's what it's there for. Yet the people who buy these are not only nasty; they're apparently computer illiterate. They make rash decisions, and keep America's economy afloat. How do stupid perverts get money? That is a topic for another day, and one I actually hope to avoid altogether.

Anyway, I admit that I'm angry that this business is successful as it is so mind numbingly stupid that it should have no chance of success. But this guy has a business that is based on only hiring and hanging out with hot chicks. That's kind of commendable. When I really think about it, one question comes to mind...

Are they hiring?

-Joe

P.S. I take it we're all in agreement that this is the one show that could surpass Franklin & Bash as the best show on television. An 80's wrestling drama is brilliant, and I know I can count on The Rock to produce absolute greatness.

If Wishers Were Horses

Everybody has a sexual fetish. I'll even admit mine. Unlike most guys, I like girls who look like this...

Only hotter. That's right, I like females who are extremely...pretty. Like the prettier, the better for me. If you are a gorgeous lady, I will do you...hard. I know this makes me a freak, but it's what I'm into. We all have our fetishes. I'm sure you've all heard of Furries, but that's a black-tie cocktail party conversation topic at this point. I want to expose you to a sexual fetish that the mainstream media doesn't have the guts to cover.

If Wishers Were Horses. This sexual fetish is so messed up that American servers refuse to host this website. So they went to Europe, where there are no rules about what is on the Internet. You think you've seen some sick stuff made by Americans? You haven't seen shit. I had a buddy who would show us European porn, and I am scarred to this day. Not only do these people not feel pain, but I'm pretty sure that half of Europe thinks that shit is one of the essential food groups. Just trust me on this, and do not do a Google search for "German Shit Porn"; it will only leave you traumatized.

But back to If Wishers Were Horses. If you couldn't tell from the title, this fetish involves people who wish they could transform into horses. Their website warns, "If the notion of transforming into an animal does not appeal then you'd really be happier visiting another site." You will also be greeted with this gif.

I never knew how much females resembled horses, but now I can totally see it. I think I might start telling girls they are as majestic as a horse. This gif drew me in, so I happily clicked the enter button so I could learn more.

The first section I had to go to was "Why?" because I wanted to know why people would want to be horses. The message comes from Destrier, who is the woman who runs the site, and this was the most relevant piece of information on why people would want to become horses.

"Horses embody a lot of admirable concepts...The horse's sexual appeal should be mentioned too - not for nothing do we flatter or tease each other with terms like stud, stallion, or filly. Many find the notion of becoming a horse quite erotic."


Basically these people want to have sex with horses, but they don't want to go to jail for beastiality. If you meet one of these people, do not leave them alone with your horse. In fact, don't leave them alone with a horse stuffed animal, because that stuffed animal is going to get stuffed by something or stuffed up somewhere. 

I tried to read some of the stories, but they're awful. Not only is it boring, but it's also poorly written. The first story tried to put an adverb in every sentence. The horse owner couldn't just beat his horse, he aggressively beat his horse. Well, no shit, most people don't lackadaisically beat their animals to teach them a lesson.

Next, I checked out Hooves. I don't know why I was shocked when I saw the image on the page, but for some reason, I thought Hooves was a metaphor for starting a solid base of a horse lifestyle, but no, as the image shows, I was thinking far too much for this site.

Yeah, it's just instructions on how to turn your hands into hooves, so you can walk on all fours, because, fuck, you've already admitted you want to be a horse, it's not like you have to worry about losing any self-respect at this point.

But I saved the best for last when I went to their advice page. Before delving into this subject, I would have assumed that the advice would be ways to hide your fetish, so you didn't shame your family and friends. But after looking through this site for a while (Trust me, you don't want to know how long I spent on this site), I knew that it would be far dumber than anything I could imagine. I was not disappointed when I was greeted by this warning at the top of the page:

Please Note!

I have not ever been a horse! This is a work of fiction, but contains some practical points which I hope, should any of you find yourself succeeding in your quest to be an equine, might be of use or interest.

Thank you for the warning. The saddest part about this warning is that it's probably necessary, because Destrier is pretty much the Queen of people who wish they were horses, and after reading their fan fiction, I'm pretty sure everyone who has this fetish is at least mildly retarded. But if you think the warning is absolute batshit insanity, prepare to have your mental capacities shocked and awed, because the stupidity is only beginning. Oh yes, it gets better, so much better:

Documented hazards of this nature include:
Being unable to reverse the transformation if and while a pregnancy results.

So yeah, don't get pregnant once you turn into a horse, because it can be really tough to turn back into a human once you've had your horse baby. As messed up as that is, my favorite part of this warning is "Documented hazards". DOCUMENTED. Because so many people have written about their transformation into a horse that there are actually documented hazards for equine transformation (that's the scientific term). Documented...DOCUMENTED. I really can't stress the stupidity of that line enough. I also enjoyed this nugget on the choosing of methods:

Many are the ways in which one may transform oneself, and sober consideration must be given to all.

Yes, folks, it is not wise to drunkenly decide to turn into a horse. Obviously, if you're considering equine transformation, your judgment must be impeccable while sober, but intoxication can bring rash decisions out of the best of us. What I really hope for is someone using this defense in a drunk driving case:

Defendant: Judge, I was really wasted, and at that point, I knew I had two choices. Drive home, or turn into a horse and gallop home. I knew from the Internet, which never lies, that it was unwise to drunkenly turn into a horse, so I made the safer decision and drove home.

Judge: Case dismissed.

That could totally be half an episode of Franklin & Bash. 

Finally, I would like to address the preparations for becoming a horse. They recommend you have someone else to assist you in case you run into any problems during your equine transformation. I would LOVE to be this person. I know a lot of stupid people; I just don't know if they'd like to turn into a horse. But I cannot imagine anything better than watching a person "transform" into a horse. Imagine this scene:

I find an idiot who would like to perform an equine transformation. I first explain to them that they need to be outside while the transformation occurs, because they would be too big to exit out of a door of a house once they turned into a horse. I would then let them know that they needed to be naked in the yard, because the clothes could constrict their transformation. The person would probably object that I videotaped them, but I would have to so I could prove that they are a person who turned into a horse, and not just a regular horse, so the authorities wouldn't steal them away. My favorite part would be acting shocked as I pretended they were actually turning into a horse. My only problem would be holding in my laughter as I put a saddle on them and watched them eat grass. I'd probably stop short of nailing horseshoes on their hands and feet, but that's because I'm a good guy.

And so concludes my deep, dark, disturbing piece of investigative journalism on "If Wishers Were Horses."


You're welcome.

-Joe

P.S. Here is a deep look into the world of Larry Bernandez.

What I Learned From Step Up 3

Recovering from a four day bender on Sunday, I decided I would watch a movie to help me waste a couple hours. It was 1:12 in the afternoon, and I noticed that Step Up 3 (Since I did not watch it in 3D, I will refer to it as Step Up 3 which Wikipedia has told me is totally acceptable) had started at 1:10. I decided that I could get into the movie and hope that those two minutes that I missed would never come back to haunt me. I will probably never see those two minutes, but I am really hoping that it is two minutes of a disclaimer noting that any person who tries to view this movie in an intelligent manner will probably have their head explode within ten minutes.

So yeah, this movie is awesome.

Within ten minutes I actually learned something about myself when one of the main characters called another main character BFAB. There was only about five seconds until they explained what BFAB meant, but I was so excited because I was 100% positive that it was going to be awesome. It did not disappoint as I learned that BFAB means Born From A Boombox. It was a revelation for me, as I too, am Born From A Boombox.

The next thing I learned is that as long as you are dancing, you can commit crime with reckless abandon. Occasionally people will get angry, but they won't actually do anything about it. In this movie, they destroyed people's property, vandalized city streets, and stole like it was the only way to get into Heaven. The worst thing that happened to them for these crimes is some old lady tried to spray them with a hose. If you committed a dance murder, the worst punishment that would happen is someone overcooking your steak at the neighborhood barbecue. I'm honestly not sure if the American Justice System has the power to prosecute Dance Crime.

When competing in a dance-off, always, and I mean ALWAYS, dance last. I'm not sure if the sabermetric community has researched this, but according to my analysis, you will win 100% of the time as long as you are the last to break out dance moves.

Speaking of dance-offs, does anyone know where and when the Midwest Regionals will be taking place this year? With the strategic use of dancing last, I'm pretty sure West Coast Dance could take out The Pirates and The Samurai in the World Dance Championships. If anybody has any information on this, let me know with a comment or on the Facebook page.

The last thing I learned is that large warehouses in downtown New York City are shockingly affordable. With my modest approximation, they had about a 20,000 square foot warehouse. There were six different studios for dancing, and a dance club on a lower floor. This does not include the living spaces where about 20 dancers lived, or the regular living spaces as well as an office to edit films. Now if they were running a successful dance club, maybe they were making money off that, but nobody worked there, and there was clearly no security because a rival dance group was able to come right in and get into a dance battle. So I think they just had a dance club so other people with no jobs would have a place to dance in the middle of the afternoon. None of these dancers had jobs, and when they finally got evicted, all the dancers were pissed despite living for free for years at this point. After looking at everything logically, I am nearly positive that a 20,000 square foot warehouse in downtown New York is about $500 a month. I don't know why people bitch about prices in NY, because that seems like a hell of a deal to me.

Step Up 3 is like the Fast and the Furious franchise, except they replaced racing for pink slips with dancing for warehouses. I highly recommend it.

-Joe

P.S. If you are a baseball nerd, you will love this article.