The one major lesson I learned from this weekend is that there are hot busty girls in the world who wear sport bras on a Saturday night. My problem with this is that when they do this, they're completely misrepresenting themselves to the world and robbing us of their special gift. I also learned that when girls do this, it makes it nearly impossible to guess their bra size on the first guess.

Thanks to Twitter and Hot Pockets, we're only about two years away from people communicating purely in grunting noises. I think it's long overdue and the human race should've stopped using words decades ago. All words do is complicate things and force us to hide our primal urges. And just imagine how great it would be to live in a world where you can go to Denny's and order pancakes by pointing at them on the menu and making caveman noises while you pour maple syrup on your crotch. That's the kind of world I want to live in.

The best weekends usually start when you have no idea what you're going to do on Friday night, especially when you tell people that you're going to "relax" on Friday night and "take it easy this weekend." These are usually the weekends that you end up hooking up with a girl who has the same name as your sister, but fortunately you couldn't remember her name when you hooked up with her and you found out after the fact. And don't you just love those farts that sound like a rat being eaten by a fatter rat who has a severe gas problem?

Thursday is the work day of every week that sucks the most because where we're all holding on by a very thin thread and people still expect us to do stuff. Friday doesn't count because nobody really does anything on Friday, they just pretend to work, take two and a half hour lunches and use the bathroom four times. This is why I always recommend starting a friendly "that's what she said" competition at work every Thursday or simply responding to people with interrupting cow noises. I also recommend bringing pieces of old lunch meat so you can throw them at the co-workers you can't stand.

Every male encounter with hooters goes something like this... first, the eyes identify them and then they send a message through the optic nerve telling the brain that there are boobs in the area. At this point the man brain evaluates the overall risk involved in looking at them immediately or waiting a few seconds before sneaking an unsuspecting peek. Keep in mind that the entire time this process is going on, the subconscious is attempting to manipulate the conscious while the conscious is repeatedly saying "look at the face, look at the face... look at the face!"


MORE MANLY STUFF...

25 Inappropriate Children's Books (Holy Taco)

Mr. Freeze Does Something To A Woman's Chest (Cracked)

13 Epic Beer Guts (Super Tremendous)

D Cup Implants Save A Hot Woman's Life! (DJ Mick)

20 Random Really Hot Chicks (The Chive)

24 Sexy Snow Bunnies! (Unreality Magazine)

Jennifer Ellison Is The Bustiest British Babe In The World (Gorillamask)

A recent survey conducted said that women think about sex up to 34 times in an average working day.That works out at the equivalent of once every 14 minutes. Over 50% of the women surveyed were dissatisfied with their sex life, prompting them to think about sex during their working day while seven in 10 women finding up to an hour a day for their "naughty" fantasies. This means we are all surrounded by a ton of horny women every day at work and we now know why the spend such so much time in the women's bathroom.

According to a recent study, almost 9 percent of gamers are pathologically or clinically "addicted" to playing video games. The good news is that forty-three percent of all video game players are women and women over the age of 18 represent twenty-eight percent of those lovely ladies. This means there is hope for all men out there that they can one day find an attractive woman who loves to spend an entire weekend playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 while eating nothing but spaghetti and jalapeno poppers.

The most psychic piece of technology that exists on this planet is the Dominos Pizza online "pizza tracker." This thing knows the status of your pizza order at any given moment and it can predict when it's going to arrive at your door. I tried asking it for life advice a few eeks ago and the pizza tracker meter kept flashing red on the "box" section, so I'm super stoked about the women I'm going to meet this week. And why is it that nobody ever asked why the beaver crossed the road?