5 Questions for 8/16/10

5 Questions coming to you from the backseat of my Mom’s SUV, during a torrential downpour, driving in Upstate NY.  It is hot, sticky and raining hard here; it’s just like Florida, but without all the silicone and palm trees.  Let’s do this!

 
Question #1:  What do you think about Tiger’s wife getting $500+ Million?  (Rebecca in Tampa)

Eric Prae:  Crappy deal for him, I would let Tiger cheat on me for only $1 Million.  I wish Tiger would come back strong and play up the bad guy role.  He should just get the divorce, take a deep breath, smack a ho, and get back to dominating old white men at something I’m still not sure is a sport.  Tiger needs to realize that everyone who hated him before the incident was jealous of his income and everyone who hates on him now is jealous that he could slam hundreds of hot chicks in so little time.  Tiger should be like the Russian dude who owns the Nets:  Roll everywhere with an entourage of strippers, throw money around like it doesn’t exist, and just don’t care what the rest of the world thinks or says.

Please Tiger, just punch one camera man already!

Jenn B.: I think $500 million MAY BE a little steep.  Who am I kidding; I would probably gun for the same thing.  Then again, the guys that I have dated recently, or had any potential future with, wouldn’t provide me with much if a marriage/divorce were to ensue.  I would probably walk away with like $350, some hub caps, and maybe a hamster.

I would be very bitter and vindictive.  I would definitely make sure to make his life a living hell.  To quote one of my favorite songs ever (points if you know this song)… “I hope the next (girl) that you kiss has something terribly contagious on (her) lips…”

 

Question #2:  Have you ever looked up porn on your work computer?  (Jake in Tampa)

Eric Prae:  Umm, I work from home so yes.  I would write more but I am “doing research” on Bunnyteens…

Jenn B.:  Give me some credit here.  I would never stoop this low.  Besides, the clarity on my iPhone is INCREDIBLE.

 

Question #3:  My boyfriend likes Rod Stewart.  Is this a problem?  (Rachel in Florida)

Eric Prae:  Seriously? Rod Stewart is gangster.  Maggie May, Forever Young, You’re in my Heart, Motown Song, Rhythm of my Heart!  Tell me you haven’t made sweet, sweet love to the all time classic: Ya Think I’m Sexy?  If listening to Rod is your biggest problem with your boyfriend then YOU are the problem, not him.

Jenn B.: I like your boyfriend.  What’s his number?

 

Question #4:  Jenn please don’t ever get in a relationship again.  I need your online dating articles!  I am recently single, should I try online dating?  (Gina in NY)

Eric Prae:  I was soooo proud of Jenn for that whole two weeks.  I actually thought she wouldn’t screw it up this time (says the pathetic 28 year old male who can’t keep a relationship going).

Jenn B.:  Trust me; I am not necessarily avoiding a relationship on purpose.  My friend Brandon in North Carolina always tells me that it is going to take a very “special guy” to put up with my shit.  Personally, Brandon, I think you should move to Tampa with that laid-back, sexy swagger of yours, and show ‘em how it’s done!  Until then, Gina, I will be sure to continuously provide you with stories that make you thankful that you’re not me. 

As far as the online dating thing… go for it.  What could go wrong?


Question #5:  For the fifth and final question we give you: The Struggle Moment of the Week!  Thanks to Sarah from NY for the original idea.

Eric Prae:  I like to spend as many days as possible sitting at the beach.  I have called in sick to sit there.  I have faked being busy so women I used to date wouldn’t know I was ditching them to sit there.  I have even told people I couldn’t make plans because I was going away for the weekend, just to drive 25min west of my house and sit on the beach.  I love it there, I can’t help it.

On a weekend you can probably find me at a certain beach bar in St. Pete Beach.  If I could just find a way to be independently wealthy, I would just sit at this beach bar every day for the rest of my life.  They have the tri-fecta combination of beautiful female bartenders wearing nothing, cheap beer and great food.  Oh, and it’s on one of the most scenic beaches in all of Florida.  It’s paradise.

Most days you would see a mixture of hippy beach volleyball players who are drunk, sandy, happy, and have no idea what time or day it is, and local bikers who meet there to eat and show off their sweet rides.  There is a huge Rastafarian dude who plays the steel drums and drops some reggae music on you, while you enjoy the beach.  It is a beautiful peaceful place…  Until we had the DJ Douche Bag incident.

I was sitting in my beach chair, next to court #1, soaking up some sun and drinking what was probably my 8th Corona Light, when the Rastafarian dude announced he was done for the day.  What no one there knew was that the bar hired a “DJ” to come in and spin some records.  That is where the total disaster began.

“DJ Douche Bag” then tried to turn our peaceful beach bar into a Jersey Shore night club.  Not cool.

DJ Douche Bag:  Yo, yo, YO!  This is DJ Douche Bag keeping it real here in south St. Pete!

Nobody cheered.  He then kept it going with some “mixes” of the latest crap music that you might hear on every local radio station that you ignore.

I got up to pack my stuff, (my ears can’t take an evening of pounding music) when I saw a biker chick arguing with DJ Douche Bag.  Chaos was in the air!  I ran up to the DJ stand to get involved in the conversation.

The biker chick was yelling at DJ Douche Bag to turn it off.  Did he yell back at her?  Nope.  Why?  Because hiding behind every biker chick is like 20 dudes who have arm tattoos like “bad to the bone”, all of who would LOVE to knock your bitch ass out!

Eric Prae:  Hey DJ Paulie D!  Nice bedazzled shirt!  Can you turn that shit down; my dog back in Tampa heard it and is barking up a storm!

Then a few other people came up to complain and DJ Douche Bag made a mistake and said something mean to the biker chick.  She got angry.  I really couldn’t hear what she said back, because of the pounding club music.  I turned to a table of biker guys.

Eric Prae:  Please, please kick this guy’s ass!  For the love of God!

The manager saw what was going on and ran out.  DJ Douche Bag would live to see another day.  I have never been so disappointed that a fight didn’t break out.  The volleyball players left.  The bikers left.  The bar started to clear out.  I guess we’ll never know what ever happened to DJ Douche Bag.  He’s probably “spinnin’ it” at some crappy club in downtown Tampa right now telling the story of how he told off some bikers.

Damn.

That is how we struggle.
 
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