Category Archives: Holiday

The TRUE Origin of Valentine’s Day

Posted on by patrickhmorris
2

Back before time was kept, the gods ruled. The collection of gods lived high in the mountains, completely separated from the people. They lived without care of strife and the dismal lives befallen on mortals. The people lived in filth, squalor and mud, while the gods lived in luxury, sophistication and pristine beauty. They lived with gold castles, diamond roads and lakes of wine. This is the way it had always been.

One person who didn’t accept this was a man named Edgar Valentini. He was a simple man who had spent his entire life living unexceptionally. He’d never accomplished anything and began to grow bitter by the god’s luxuries.

One day, as he poured himself a bowl of brown sluddgy gruel, Edgar decided enough was enough. What was the god’s was rightfully for all. He decided that he would devote his life to this task. He packed a small bag with random objects, not knowing what he might find useful, and headed for the mountains where the god’s dwelled.

When he arrived, he was taken aback by the beauty and bountiful luxury that surrounded him. He was forced to shield his eyes from the light shinning off of the rubies as tall as several houses.

As Edgar walked in the mountains, he came across the great lake of wine called Lake Vino (the gods were immortal, but creative they were not).

Protecting the great lake was a large dam created by Patratacus – the ancient god of damming. His giant dam kept the lake of wine locked from releasing out into the valley and he protected it night and day. It was here that Edgar decided on his plan. Edgar approached Patratacus and sat at a rock facing out into the giant lake.

“Would you look at that,” he said to himself.

Patratacus had never seen a human before and didn’t know what to think about this small, dirty man. “I stare deep into this lake every day,” he said. “It has lost it’s glamour to me.”

“I bet you drink this stuff by the barrel full every day,” said Edgar.

“Me?” asked Patratacus. “Why I would never. It is forbidden.”

“You’re telling me that you’re out here every day, all alone and you’ve never once taken a small sip?”

“No.”

Edgar shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re missing. This stuff is delicious.”

Patratacus looked out into the lake. “Delicious? I was told it tasted of rancid bile.”

“No, no, no, they’re putting you on,” said Edgar. “Here, use my hat. Take a little sip for yourself. There’s plenty. No one will ever notice.”

Patratacus looked puzzled. He wondered why he’d been lied to and if this small, smelly man was in fact telling the truth. He decided the only way to find out for sure was to try some. He took Edgar’s hat, dipped it into the lake and took a sip. Instantly, he felt his taste buds tingle. He felt a warm sensation pull its way down his throat and deep into his stomach. It was wonderful. He quickly dipped the hat back in to get a bigger sip.

“See. That’s the ticket!” said Edgar.

With each sip, Patratacus felt better and better. He felt warm, alive and effusive towards all living things. Whatever this was, he thought, it was a part of him forever.

He was so enamored with it, that he failed to see Edgar sneak off to the base of his great dam. With the coiled spike that he’d arbitrarily packed into his satchel, Edgar penetrated the dam and unleashed a powerful stream that flowed down the mountain. Patratacus rushed to save the damn, but found walking difficult and decided to lay down and call his ex-girlfriends.

The mortals down in the valley heard a great rumble and looked out their muddy coups to see a great river of wine flow down the mountain. The people were elated and drank straight from the river with great joy.

Edgar raced down the mountain to share in his people’s elation.

The world was happy that day and for the rest of time people celebrated what they thought was a gift from the gods. For hundreds of years people celebrated VinoDay on February 14th, without a second thought towards the man who made it possible. In the late middle-ages, archaeologists found stone tablets that were determined to be Edgar Valentini’s personal diary. It was here that people discovered the true force behind the river of wine from the gods and VinoDay quickly turned into Valentine’s Day – the celebration of one man’s quest to be exceptional and share the glorious gift of wine with his fellow man.

Until, however, the roman leader Hallmarkious seized the holiday and changed its meaning to be about romantic love in order to sell more of his greeting tablets.

New Year – Old Resolutions

Posted on by patrickhmorris
3

3…2…1…TIME TO FIX YOURSELF!!!

Even though I am constantly making insincere resolutions for myself throughout the year, I take New Years Resolutions very seriously. There’s just something about that one defining goal every year that, more than anything, exhibits what your life was like at the time. Since I wasn’t coming up with any good resolutions this year (either a sign that I’ve perfected life or that I’ve given up all hope) I decided to review some of the resolutions I’ve made in the past and see how the panned out.

    Age 13

Resolution – To kiss a girl with braces

Reason – Something about braces seemed hot to me. Being older I realize that I subconsciously was attracted to girls who had yet blossomed (which means I had a chance) and had parents who had money and cared about their daughters appearance.

Result – Ever eat soup with a rusty spoon. Yeah, it’s like that.

    Age 16

Resolution – To get a car and ask a girl if she wanted to “Go for a ride.”

Reason – I’d watched too many movies from the 50′s and  couldn’t think of anything cooler than asking a girl to put her life in your hands and be alone with you at the same time.

Result – The car I got was less than Cruise Worthy and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t sound cool saying, “You’ll have to stick your head out the window cause the car fills up with smoke when I go down hills.”

    Age 19

Resolution – Bench press 200 lbs.

Reason – I figured that the best way to pretend my beer based weight gain was intentional was to go to the gym to “bulk up.”

Result – I did it. Well, kinda. I celebrated doing it for about 3 weeks until someone pointed out that the bar did NOT weigh 145 lbs on its own.

    Age 21

Resolution – Only drink top shelf liquor and good craft beers.

Reason – Now that I was of legal age, I had no excuse to drink the swill of desperate commoners.

Result – Ever walk into a keg party with a six pack? It’s like walking into a baseball game with a pillow. Everyone hates you cause you’ve made it apparent you don’t know how to have a good time.

    Age 24

Resolution – To take the LSATs

Reason – A degree was the only thing standing between me and a glorious job as the first celebrity environmental lawyer.

Result – The only book on taking the LSATs at the library had notes written for every question. These were not helpful notes. No, they were what I would call, “a guide on being a sexual predator,” notes. Here’s an example:

Question – it can be inferred that the author of the passage would most probably have praised Phillis Wheatley’s poetry more if he had…

Notes – put wood glue on his hands so it’s easier to grab onto a girl’s hair.

I took the notes as a sign that all Lawyers were sick, sick people.


    Age 25

Resolution – Learn to play the piano

Reason – I’d always wanted to have a party where we eventually drift into the ball room and I play an emotionally taxing rendition of John Lennon’s Imagine.

Result – I practiced the main riff for Imagine for almost three weeks. Then, when I finally was ready to move onto the real diamond of the song (the bridge) I found out that the Casio I bought on the street for $2 didn’t have enough keys to play the full song. I took this as a sign that I should focus on getting people at my party’s so drunk that they won’t notice I’m lip synching.

    Age 26

Resolution – Look people, even strangers, in the eye and smile more.

Reason – NYC is a lonely and keep to your self type of town, but I was going to change all that.

Result – The first person I made eye contact with on the subway told me to look away or else he would gouge out my eyes with my molars.

    Age 27

Resolution – Keep other people from accomplishing their resolutions.

Reason – Look, if I can’t do it, why should you?

Result – “No, I’m serious. If you drink a milkshake after ever meal you’ll lose 15 lbs.”

New Year – Funnier Posts

Posted on by patrickhmorris
1

It usually takes me 3-4 weeks until after New Years for me to figure out a resolution. This year, it only took me two. For the first time since I can remember, the thing I needed to improve on was obvious – write funnier posts for ThePatrickRules.com. Actually, this is probably the least important thing for me to focus on, but since I don’t feel like addressing my real shortcomings, I might as well focus on something a little more gratifying. Hell, it’s better than the year I decided to start smoking so I could quit the next day.

When I was thinking about “how to write funnier” I kept running into the same problem: there isn’t a formula to follow in order to write funnier. Surprised? I was. This frustrated me to no end so I decided to brainstorm ways to write funnier and then publish my findings here so others could capitalize on my efforts.

1) Buy new notebook – notebook should be small and when people see me writing in it on the subway they should think “Oohhhh…I bet that guy’s a writer!”

2) Buy a new pen – preferably something that feels funny, but looks like a rocket ship or shark.

3) Identify funny words:
- Sponge
- Felt
- Glandular
- Khaki
- Inconsolable

4) Funny names
- Ruderford
- Brutus
- Tib
- Andy
- Juniper
- Buttbun
- Flabosack

5) Top funny themes of 2008
- The U.S. and China relations
- How spoiled rich people are
- How stupid kids are
- Putting the letter “i” in front of anything and pretending it’s an apple product (iDong, iTripe)

6) Find common emotions and match them to metaphors and similes:
- Happy: I was happier than a boy in a gumball machine
- Sad: It was like I had forgotten to clean a load from my pants I had made that morning
- Angry: Like a snake had entered my rectum and issued my colon my parent’s divorce papers
- Confused: Like a Chinese boy being forced to pee on a banana
- Eager: As if a casket were made of tits

7) Find things you hate and explain why
- Lines: All you do is stand there and watch dumb people do things
- Loud talkers: It breaks my pattern of only thinking about myself
- Liars: Cause you never hear about people who failed for being honest
- Paying more than $3 for anything: I like 5 dollar bills and change
- Traffic: Cause I REALLY have somewhere to be
- People who are smarter than me AND do drugs: There goes my excuse
- Whoever thought of hash browns: That should have been me
- Australia: We get it. Warm, English, exotic, no blood tests to visit and no diamond trade gang wars like in South Africa

8 ) Compare things that aren’t alike
- Dancing is like wearing pants – ladies don’t care if you do it well…they just care that you do it.
- Watching sports with your girlfriend – it’s like eating peanut butter and celery. The best of both worlds are now ruined by being together.
- Having a 3 foot grandmother – like having a dog who randomly attacks people. None of your friends want to come over.
- Sleeping in a chair is like sleeping with a fat girl – your first thought is “uh-oh”.

9) Find right level of weird
- only wear cashmere (odd)
- only eat cashmere (weird)
- made fake cashmere nipples and listen to Burl Ives while you try to catch fish out of your sock drawer (too weird)

Dear Santa

Posted on by patrickhmorris
6

Dear Santa:

I can barely believe it’s been a year since I last wrote you. I started writing you a letter in mid-April, but it seemed forced.

How have you been? Anything new up in that North Pole of yours? I heard something about the Russians putting their fat flag on the BOTTOM of the North Pole. Sounds pretty annoying to me. My guess is that pretty much wiped every Russian child off your “nice” list (which means you’ll have a lot more presents for people like me!!).

Of course, as you know, I haven’t been a perfect little boy this past year. I’m sure you have every indiscretion of mine on file, but I’d like to take this opportunity to apologize for each one.

Sometime in October I saw an advertisement on the subway and called it a slang word for Homosexual. I am not sure what the advertisement’s sexual orientation is, but it was not my place to pass judgment. If I could, I would take it back, but, since I can’t, I would like to ask that for Christmas you give me a word of the day calendar so I can expand my vocabulary. Who knows, if I had been able to better express myself I might have said “That ad is a delinquent” or “That ad is a robust heap of glandular discharge.”

Earlier in the year I sent my mother an email claiming to be a Prince who was seeking exile in America. I asked that she hold my vast fortunes in her bank account for me while I fled my country. Figuring she would see the obvious rouse, I asked her to send me $5,000 for me to electronically transfer my riches (which I said was “One Billion Butt’n’balls”). On the outside I feel bad about ripping my mother off, but I can’t deny feeling all warm when she calls to tell me what she’s going to do with the money from Prince Vaginodar of South Scamadamma.

I wish these were my only two indiscretions, but as you know, I’ve done wrong recently. Just last week, while peeing in a urinal I decided to check how much money I had in my wallet. My hope was that it was enough to buy a piece of pizza with at least one topping on it since I’ve grown quite fond of pepperoni. As I scoured the inside of my wallet, I realized I had “strayed” from my urinal and was now peeing on the wall. Having realized my error, I promptly re-aligned myself and finished peeing. While I was at the sink washing my hands, another fellow came in and expressed disgust at the urine soaked wall. My mother had taught me right from wrong, but in this instance I saw a large gray area and proceeded to remark on how some people were “animals” who should be “strangled with a rusty wire” and if I ever “found the scoundrel” who had made such a “disgusting mess” of the public bathroom, I would “stomp them flatter than a Billy Joel record.”

Which brings me to why I’m writing you now. Even though I have done a few “minor” things that might inspire you to etch my name onto your Naughty list, I have tried my best to be a good person. Therefore I ask only one thing for Christmas. Please kill Billy Joel. Most people love him, but in full disclosure, I don’t like the sappy son-of-a-bitch. For some reason, he urks me and I think we’ve all had just about enough of him. I’m afraid he might try to come out with another album soon and I’d like you to prevent that from happening. We all loved Piano Man and We Didn’t Start the Fire, but isn’t it time we move on?

I know I’ve asked for this every year for the past 10-12 years, but this time I’ve been extra good. You probably think my request to strike someone down for really no reason is wrong, but just think about it, please. You’d be making me very happy.

Thank you very much, Santa.

Have a wonderful Christmas and don’t feel too bad about how many kids I’m sure you’ll disappoint who asked for Wii’s.

Love,

Patrick