Search This Blog

HeadGarbage's Mission Statement

This site exists for one sole reason. Some may say it's a waste of time and/or a poor attempt at stupid humor. That's fine. But way too many people are so miserable and I refuse to be one of them. These are things that I think about and I think are funny. These are things that make me laugh. I hope some of it makes you laugh too. Life is way too short to walk around being pissed off all the time. If you can’t laugh at some of the stupid and ridiculous stuff that exists in this world, what’s the point?! I hope the content of this site, which stems from the ridiculousness of the world we're in, can help in some small way to help take the edge off an otherwise stressful life. As a wise man once said,"We're not here for a long time, we're here for a good time!" I think that was Gandhi? Live, LAUGH, Love...And enjoy your daily dose of HeadGarbage. Come back often and tell your friends so that HG can grow big and strong!

Monday, June 28, 2010

I Wish I Was Elsewhere

*What are you smiling about Whitney?  You made it worse!

When you're in a gym locker room and a 60 year old man walks in and sets up shop right next to you it's a little weird. When he proceeds to take off all of his clothes, it becomes even less appealing. But when he's standing there totally naked changing into his bathing suit and Whitney Houston's "I will always love you" comes on over the speakers, that's when it get's REALLY awkward!  Many of my posts are "What If's" and straight up lies.  This actually happened to me today.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Horse Lover


Sometimes when I'm in the shower, I think of something I need to do.  So when I get out, sometimes I try to do that thing right away before I put my clothes on.  The only problem with this process is that there is a chance that in those moments careless unexpected tragedy could strike and I could die.  Then there would be questions.  Not so much questions of how I died or why, but why was I naked?  More than likely there would be some coincidental evidence of an animal's presence in my apartment, possibly some hair.  Don't worry how it got there. Then the media would report in a non-accusational manner that I may in some way have been involved in an underground bestiality ring when in reality the evening before I had had a romantic evening with a young lady, and hired a violinist to serenade us while we dined.  During the evening, the musician's passionate playing caused his bow to shred, leaving behind some horse hairs from said bow.  Then, with my family unable to prove the media incorrect, and no one to dispel the lies of my activities, my family, not wanting to lie, but in an attempt to maintain some dignity would have engraved on my tombstone:  "Our Beloved Son.  Apparently he loved animals".

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Can You Hold This For Me?

I'm going to invent underwear with pockets.  Because I don't always wear pants, but I still need a place to put my stuff.

I Hope She Doesn't Crush Him!

There's nothing I like more than seeing a little scrawny redneck guy with a wicked fat redneck lady.  The guy is normally wearing old torn jeans and a dirty wife beater, although I question his ability to beat a woman with a 100 lb. weight advantage.  These sightings are most common at state fairs.  If and when you're treated to the privelage of such an event, take it all in because it's a special moment.  It's hilarious.  But sometimes, my mind wanders to the dark side and I imagine them having sex.  Then I throw up.  Then it's not quite as funny, but still pretty funny.

People Watching

One of my favorite pastimes is people watching. It’s so entertaining to sit on a bench on a crowded street or in a busy park and watch all different kinds of people from different backgrounds in their natural environment, when they aren’t aware they’re being watched and have released their inhibitions. Some people, however, quickly become aware of your presence and aren’t thrilled. That’s why, whenever I do some people watching, I bring a newspaper along. That way, when I’m staring at some guy on the street with a leather vest, cut-off jean shorts and a pony tail, and laughing and he says angrily, “what the fuck are you looking at?!” I can respond, “I’m just reading this newspaper, Garfield’s at it again! He sure does love lasagna”, and then run away.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Clean Out Your Desk!!!

If I’m ever fired in a hostile manner I hope to God that my boss yells at me, “Clean out your desk!” I will gladly clean out my desk. But I’m going to crap in the drawer.

Can I Have That Baby?

I want a baby by the time I’m 35. I’m not going to rush into a relationship with a girl though.  That's irresponsible.  So if I’m 35 and haven’t yet met “Miss Right”, hide your babies, because I’m going to steal one!

The Plan

I have a plan.  It goes like this. 

I want to go into a Walmart and buy a $50 gift card. I’ll most likely pay for it with travelers checks because I think travelers checks are stupid. Then I want to go out to my car and apply a fake, but very realistic looking mustache and go back in to the store with my recently purchased gift card and 40 nickels in my pocket. Then I want to go back to the same cashier that I purchased the gift card from just moments earlier and purchase a $52 gift card using my $50 gift card and my nickels. Then, as a final touch, I will return to my car, take off my fake mustache and eat an extremely messy and sticky brownie. Then I will return to the store, get a basket and fill it with approximately $52 worth of toothpaste, go to the same cashier and calmly pay for the toothpaste with my $52 gift card. This plan will be known as “Operation Confuse the Shit Out of the Walmart Cashier”.

I Need a New Car

If you drop your car keys in a porta-potty, just go ahead and plan on never driving that vehicle ever again.

That's Where I Draw the Line

I saw an American Heart Association billboard recently that said, “Please Give Generously”. The American Heart Association should be more clear in their advertising. Because I have no problem donating a few dollars to charity, but I’m not going to give you my heart. And I have a feeling that’s what they were getting at!

TODAY's News...

I think it’s condescending when you bring up a topic to someone and they say “that’s yesterday’s news!” Oh really? Because I just heard it, so I guess for me it’s today’s news, asshole!

Tell Her About It

If you see someone with something on their face, like a piece of food, or something stuck to their shoe, like an entire roll of toilet paper, it’s always awkward to tell them, especially if you don’t know them that well. But if you don’t say anything to them, you’re a dick. Because who knows when the next time they’ll look in the mirror?

A Terrible Way To Die

You know what’s absolutely terrifying? Being in a highway rest stop bathroom at 2AM, sitting down to take a shit, and hearing the sound of the door open and someone else walk in. I have never felt more rape prone in my life than at that moment.

Where Do I Look?

Sometimes you get into awkward social situations where you’re waiting for something with a stranger like in line at a bank or in an elevator. In these cases, you have to look somewhere, but more often than not there is nothing interesting to look at. Some people will try to read a brochure or appear to be interested in something on the floor or the ceiling in an attempt to seem occupied. Me? I just close my eyes.

Friday, June 18, 2010

That's Just Poor Marketing

Oldsmobile went defunct in 2004.  I can't believe they made it that long.  In 1897 when the company was founded, wasn't there at least one guy who noticed that the name OLDsmobile could be a potential marking hurdle down the road?  I mean who wants to buy a brand new car that has the word OLD right in the title of the make.  Doesn't inspire much confidence for the consumer.  I understand that the founder's last name was Olds, Ransom E. Olds, a name which leaves a lot of questions to be answered to be certain...Ransom?  But Oldsmobile?  I understand you want to have your name affliated with the company but there has to be a line drawn somewhere.  Out of business in 2004.  A pretty good run of over 100 years.  But I wonder if the Olds family ever lays in bed at night and thinks, "what if?"  What if our forefather just happened to be named Ransom E. Brandnew?  Would the company still be in business?  I guess we'll never know.

This Tastes Embarrassing

Have you ever been to a restaurant and seen something on the menu that looked delicious, but didn't order it because the name was so stupid that you didn't want to say it out loud?  I mean, I love appetizers as much as the next guy.  But I'm not going to say "Super Duper Sampler"

Monday, June 14, 2010

Hey, That's Mine!

I would love, absolutely LOVE it if someone tried to steal my identity.  I wake up every morning and pray to God that someone steals my identity.  People who steal identities should make sure to do some research on their prey.  Because if someone stole my identity right now, and spent two days doing it at let's say, ten hours a day, that would be twenty man hours.  Well let me tell you something Mr. Identity Thief.  If you venture out into those waters, you stand to make about $9 an hour.  I hope you're happy, because you just committed a crime to make the equivalent of a job that you could have found on Craiglist under "shitty jobs".  Fuck you, identity stealer! 

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Serial Researcher

I don't like it when people blow things out of proportion.  I also don't like it when people over-react, which is just like blowing something out of proportion.  Like for about six months, I was doing some research on this girl I was interested in who I didn't know, but had seen at a bar and thought was cute.  So I followed her home at about 2AM one night to do some research on where she lived.  Then about three days a week for the next month or so I would research her from the bushes outside her house with binoculars, trying to research what she did with her spare time and researching what she liked to watch on TV.  About six weeks later I saw her again at the bar I originally saw her at and worked up the courage to talk to her, but guess what, I wasn't even nervous.  Because I had plenty to talk to her about because of all the valuable research I had done.  Time well spent.  So after talking to her for about ten minutes, she was like, "get the hell away from me you creepster", which was a total surprise to me considering I felt like I had prepared myself so well with all of my research.  So refusing to give up on her, because I knew love isn't easy and you can't hurry it, or so I'm told by Diana Ross, I decided to follow her around and show up to as many places as I could that she was at.  So one day I was doing some research on her at her job and all her co-workers were like, who's that guys in the corner with the clipboard and no pants, and I was like "I'm a researcher!  Don't talk about me like I'm not here.  Just because I'm hiding behind this bush doesn't mean I can't hear you!"  Jesus!  People are so insensitive.  They just don't understand research or have any respect for science.  Then a few months after I had met her I was stopped by a cop around dusk when I was waiting outside her apartment for her to get home so I could put some finishing touches on my research.  The cop told me that there was some sort of "restraint" on my research and that I had to stay 500 feet away from her when doing my research or I'd be arrested.  Unbelievable!  A guy can't even do a little research without getting hastled by the 5-0.  Bullshit.  Anyway, long story short, I finished my research.  Jail isn't as bad as they say it is, and it's a quiet place to write.

Thursday, June 10, 2010


I never really realized that in the word "secretary" is the word "secret".  Most likely because they are pronounced differently.  But in my case, it's appropriate.  Because if and when I get a job where I have a secretary, I'm not going to make her do work.  No filing, answering phones, emailing.  My secretary's job is going to be simple...I'm going to tell her all my secrets!  Method of secret transfer?  Email?  Fax? Phone call? Yelling?  Of course not!  Who the hell yells a secret?!?!  The only appropriate way to tell a secret...whisper.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

That's Too Far

For generations the question has been asked in countless settings, "how far is too far?"  Well allow me to let you in on the answer to that question in at least one of the many settings.  If you're a man in a public restroom and you're approaching a urinal, I don't care how badly you have to piss, if you take your penis out of your pants as you're walking towards the urinal so far away that I'm able to see said penis...that's too far!

Tell Me About It

When I buy something, I like to tell people.  That way they know I'm fucking rich!  But being rich isn't good enough.  So when I tell them about it, I like to use the word "purchase".  That way they know that I'm smart too.  The exchange usually goes something like this:

ME:  "Hey loser, guess what, I just purchased a 1998 Pontiac Bonneville!"

SOME GUY: "Holy shit, that rich guy sure is smart!"

Monday, June 7, 2010

You're Not So Smart!

YOU keep left on High Street!!!

I started using a GPS on road trips.  Unfortunately this often leads me to get lost because I hate being told what to do. 


I went to the bank the other day to close my account.  The teller said to me, "we can't close your account, you have one outstanding check".  I couldn't believe it.  I went home, pretty disappointed.  I know my other checks have potential, and if they just applied themselves a little, they could be outstanding too.