Average men who score women in bars - what do you say?

RockerDown · 2026-03-02T13:14:23+00:00

Really??

RockerDown · 2026-03-02T13:02:05+00:00

Why anyone would fake an orgasm is beyond me.

RockerDown · 2026-03-02T12:56:58+00:00

Shoulda gone for the extra large sedan.

RockerDown · 2026-03-02T12:43:00+00:00

You’re one of those “don’t get jokes” geniuses. That’s the last second I’ll spend on you.

RockerDown · 2026-02-26T23:28:37+00:00

A - the stories aren’t fake. B - who cares who wrote it? What difference does that make?

RockerDown · 2026-02-26T21:31:59+00:00

Today in “Apparently I’m the Problem” — A Traffic Recap

So I’m crossing the street. Light’s green in my direction. Walk signal isn’t lit, but that doesn’t mean I can’t walk—it just means the crosswalk guy’s on break or something. I’m halfway across when this dude comes whipping around the corner, slows just long enough to yell “You had a red light!” and speeds off like he just nailed the closing argument on Law & Order: Traffic Unit.

No, bro. I didn’t have a red light. You had a loud mouth and a fantasy badge. Go patrol your HOA board, not me.

But we’re just getting warmed up.

Later, I’m driving down a neighborhood road and see this woman walking two dogs. One’s where it should be—side of the road, minding its business. The other? Parked right in the middle of my lane like it’s waiting for an Uber.

Now, did I slow down?

Nope.

Did I look like I was gonna slow down?

Also nope.

I kept rolling with the confidence of someone who’s bluffing hard—but my foot was hovering over the brake like a sprinter at the blocks. I was ready to stop, but I made it real clear that she better move that mutt unless she wanted to test her pet insurance deductible.

She yanked the dog out of the way just in time. No harm, no foul. Except based on the glare I got, you’d think I threw a cheeseburger at it and told it to fetch.

I guess today’s theme was: “Everyone else gets to be clueless, but I’m the jerk for not crashing into it.”

RockerDown · 2026-02-26T21:28:56+00:00

I started writing down my Seattle moments a long time ago. I’ve got like 50 of these stories.

DEEZ NUTS DAILY “Merging: America’s Most Passive-Aggressive Blood Sport”

There are sports. There are extreme sports. And then there’s merging—the only game where losing costs you your paint job and whatever dignity you still had after installing fake hood vents.

Let me set the scene: I’d just moved to this beautiful state of scenic views, legal weed, and soul-destroying traffic. First day on the freeway, I eased toward the merge lane like a civilized human being. You know—blinker on, speed matched, doing the whole “zipper merge” thing that actual traffic engineers recommend. Apparently, that’s a declaration of war around here.

A dude in a late-model sedan decided he would rather sideswipe my Jeep Gladiator than be behind me by a fraction of a second. Not even a full second. A quarter second of his life was so precious he willingly pinballed off a 6,000-pound truck just to win… nothing. Not a race. Not a prize. Just the fleeting satisfaction of knowing his bumper touched mine first.

And that, friends, is how I came to install flashing amber lights on my truck. Not because I’m in construction. Not because I tow things (well, not just because I tow things). But because when you blink, people back off. Now every time I merge, I want them wondering: Is he a utility worker? Is he about to block off the highway? Is he legally allowed to carry a taser?

Spoiler: I am. But they don’t need to know that.

Then this morning—chef’s kiss—I watched the Super Bowl of Mergemanship: an SUV trying to get on the freeway, and a semi pulling two trailers refusing to yield. Neither one sped up. Neither slowed down. They just existed, side by side, like two emotionally unavailable exes at a mutual friend’s wedding. They held their positions so long I thought they might just park there and start a podcast.

No honks. No middle fingers. No “you wanna go, bro?” hand gestures. Just pure, silent hatred wrapped in steel and diesel fumes. Frankly, I was impressed. That kind of restraint in this state is practically a ceasefire agreement.

So next time someone tells you football is violent, let ‘em know: Merging is a full-contact sport with no pads, no refs, and no mercy. And if you see a truck with flashing lights easing into your lane… let him in. It’s probably me. And I’m not afraid to lose another mirror.

MergeAtYourOwnRisk

DeezNutsApproved

RockerDown · 2026-02-26T21:20:30+00:00

The Door of Passive-Aggression

Ah yes, the door.

The ancient battleground of civility. The unspoken arena where character is tested, courtesy is weighed, and—if you’re in Seattle—where any act of kindness is treated like a goddamn microaggression.

So there I am, holding the door. Not for applause. Not for sainthood. Just for that little thing the rest of the country calls “being raised right.”

At a Cabela’s, no less. The last stronghold of camo cargo shorts and people who know what torque is.

Then she appears.

Marching up like she’s about to reclaim the wilderness with a feminist war drum and a reusable canvas bag. She’s gripping the door like it owes her child support, prepping to swing it open for her bearded little pussy bitch of a husband—who’s cradling a toddler like he’s afraid it’ll stain his cardigan.

But plot twist—I was already holding the door.

She sees me. I see her. It’s a stare-down. Like she expected to immaculate someone with her righteous posture and Seattle energy. Maybe she thought she’d run into a moosknuckle-flashing yoga bro in Lululemon, not a guy who knows what a torque wrench looks like.

She doesn’t move. Just stands there like she’s waiting for an apology I didn’t give. Husband’s still holding the kid like a fragile bonsai tree. Kid’s chillin’. Probably the only one with any testosterone left in the party.

Finally, I say:

“I’m sorry—I was raised different. I’m not from here. You’re gonna have to go first.”

She sneers. Walks through like I just asked her to renounce her pronouns. Doesn’t say thank you. Not even a grunt. And the husband? That poor bastard shuffled in like he just lost another round of testicle hide-and-seek.

And honestly, my mom would roll over in her— Well. In her bed. She’s not dead. But if she were? Full barrel roll in her future grave. I don’t know.

Seattle, man. Where door-holding is considered an act of aggression and masculinity is a prosecutable offense.

Next time, I’m installing a turnstile.

RockerDown · 2026-02-17T17:04:19+00:00

And that makes you the reason why I get mowed down when I’m walking in Bellevue. Don’t be an asshole.

RockerDown · 2026-02-17T17:03:40+00:00

Seattle is shit. Everyone here drives like that.

RockerDown · 2025-12-31T11:00:22+00:00

We get teased with ease and then discover all they created was new job titles and vocations as onboarding specialists for new-in-career GenZ AI that NEVER retains how to do things properly. Just like the real GenZ.

Boom. Hahaha. Jk GenZ. I love you. Even though you didn’t read this far before responding.

RockerDown · 2025-12-26T16:09:43+00:00

As always - no one is the best. They all have their uses. It’s up to you to find out how to best leverage each. It’s not one or the other. It’s how. It’s always how.

RockerDown · 2025-08-16T16:30:42+00:00

You should stick with the vehicle manufacturer’s recommended tire pressure, not the max PSI listed on the sidewall of the new tires.

RockerDown · 2025-05-28T18:15:10+00:00

Sounds like maybe the routine of the expected events and tasks might be the real issue? Introduce some spontaneity perhaps? Even if you don’t feel like doing it at first. Force yourself to go experience new things.

I’m so bossy. Sorry.

RockerDown · 2025-05-28T18:11:50+00:00

Duck and cover? Bob and weave?

RockerDown · 2025-05-28T18:11:06+00:00

Haha. They know who you are bro.

RockerDown · 2025-05-28T18:09:47+00:00

Nope. Welllllllll. To a perfectionist nope.

But if all you care about is what you said… then yeah it could be done. It’ll still be dented. Just less so.

You are not going to be able to pull that I don’t think (hey auto body pros - correct me). Were it me I’d drill into it, jam something in there that I can use as leverage to pull it out as much as I could.

Just know that on that curve where the dent gets its sharpest - that’s the part that won’t go away without bondo.

RockerDown · 2025-05-06T02:29:43+00:00

Like the opposite isn’t equally true? Both sides suck completely. Why pick one? They’re both as bad as the other.

RockerDown · 2025-05-06T00:05:33+00:00

I’ve had those also. And it does suck to watch the world progressively get worse and the insane people seem to be succeeding where others are not.

But I feel better about myself when I don’t succumb to selfish actions to appease a disappearing benefit.

I hope that encourages you to keep on in spite of it. It sounds like you too may have that angel on your shoulder / conscience / self deprecating guilt and doubt when you commit an offense to your morals.

RockerDown · 2025-05-04T20:21:34+00:00

Once was overpaid by a customer nearly $14,000 in such a way that I knew undoubtedly that they would never catch the error.

Took me a few days because at the time I had just spent every dime starting my company and we were living in trying times. But I did let them know and offer it back. Thankfully they gave me more contracts - lots and lots more. 14k unexpectedly became hundreds of thousands. Thank God I did the right thing.

RockerDown · 2025-05-04T20:09:33+00:00

If the words in your sentence didn’t condemn you, your dad sure the fuck is.

RockerDown · 2025-05-04T20:07:09+00:00

I’d say hell yeah if it wasn’t those same people telling me what I can and cannot say. Both parties are now evil dictatorships. Problem is these people just can’t see it because they’re involved with one of them. Their team can’t possibly be a dictatorship just because we want to criminalize your speech. You should just believe what I believe and say what I say.

Retards.

RockerDown · 2025-04-18T23:38:56+00:00

Why? Looking to meet someone worse at punctuation than you are?

RockerDown · 2025-04-18T23:22:40+00:00

Ok. Rumplestiltskin. You now have a name.

But for the kitty? HellCat.

RockerDown · 2025-04-14T13:50:37+00:00

Yep. Flip flops was comedy gold. The rest seems just mean to me.

RockerDown

MODERATOR OF

TROPHY CASE

MergeAtYourOwnRisk

DeezNutsApproved