I'd Literally Hit That: Your Brother

So, as you may be aware, our very own This Is My Nightmare took over the reigns of Our Fair Videogum on Monday. And guess what? It was awesome! I mean she totally posted videos and used words to make lols and everything. Incredible. And guess what else?


WOWEEWOWOWOW! 120 comments is so many comments. “That’s a lot of comments….er…ding dong?” – Gabe (yore-2012). Clearly people like-a the “I’d Totally Hit That.” I mean, what’s not to like? Jokes? Good. Pictures? Good. Graphic descriptions of how Nightmare would like to [REDACTED] [REDACTED] Ryan Gosling with a [REDACTED] while [REDACTED] James Franco [REDACTED] [REDACTED] mystery butt? Great.

So, seeing as one good “I’d Hit That” deserves another, here’s my latest installment of “I’d Hit That” literal-style! My posts are similar to Nightmare’s but instead of “hit” being a euphemism for “OHMYGODWHATISTHATIDON’TEV[REDACTED]MYEYEEEEES,” I use the term literally to mean “punch.” Get it? Sure you do. Who am I hitting this week? Your brother.




So, here’s the thing with your brother. Woof. Here’s the other thing with your brother? What is the fucking deal with your brother? When Dorothy Parker first met Ernest Hemingway she is reported to have told a friend, “no one can be as manly as all that.” It’s like that with your brother, but with him being a douche.



Granted, I only spent one morning playing golf with your brother, but trust me when I say, THAT IS ENOUGH. First off, guy makes the tee-time for 7:30 in the morning. Who makes a tee-time for 7fucking30? I didn’t even know the course was open that early? Maybe it’s not? Maybe your brother incepted the pro shop with his maniac laugh? Like, his laugh makes him sound like he got into Robin Williams’ secret stash of cocaine and helium?




But, whatever. 7fucking30 it is. I now have to get up earlier on Saturday than it get up for work but whatever. Fuck yeah, weekend! So I get up at the peasant’s ass-crack of dawn and get a phone call 2-minutes later from your brother asking if I “woke up okay?” I did – thanks dad! Also, he wants to let me know that he will be bringing breakfast. Oh. Well…okay. Maybe this guy isn’t so bad after all, I mean that’s pretty generous of him to go out of his way andOHMYGODWHATITTHATTHING



Apparently fucking Jared Fogle over here thought it would be good with horking down a meat-meat-cheese sammy at 7:00 AM. He hands me this protein planet and says, “have you tried this? You’ll love it!” So I do try it. And, of course, I do love it. I unleash this monster on my stomach and it is gratifying and shameful like a back-alley blowjob. It haunts my dreams to this day.



So, five pounds heavier than when I woke up, we hit the first tee. Not surprisingly, I immediately start playing like horse shit. Your brother, who is very good at golf, is equally as bad at conversation. He immediately launches into worktalk to let me know that he is a VP of production or something at his “firm.” McCain & Date-Rapist, LLC maybe? Anyway, your brother is basically this guy. So, he’s all about the business and uses the word “portfolio” far too often. Meanwhile, my swing looks like a folding lawn chair and I am running out of ways to take the Lord’s name in vain. It is on the third hole that he jabs my side and let’s me know that this “beats being in the office!” No, this does not, in fact, “beat being in the office,” your brother. First of all, I don’t have an office. Second of all, if I did, I would sure as shit rather be there. Being outside doesn’t make an activity more enjoyable. It only makes it more prone to allergies.

On number 9 I seriously consider self-immolation. On number 11, the cart girl mercifully comes by, but your brother can’t even do that right. First of all, he gets a Mountain Dew which barfsville. Second of all, he does the slightly sexist humor after she’s gone all wrong. He says twice (TWICE!), “I wouldn’t mind watching HER eat a hot dog.” He hits the “her” pretty hard to let me know just whom he is interested in watching eat a hot dog which is totally unnecessary because no one wants to watch anyone eat a hot dog. I mean hot dogs are great, don’t get me wrong, but watching someone eat a big, sloppy hot dog is like watching a birth in reverse. Also, the euphemism here is clearly fellatio, but the logistics are all wrong. He would like to visualize her sucking his D like she eats a Hebrew National? That doesn’t sound sexy. That sounds torturous.

Four-and-a-half hours and seven imagined homicides later we finish up on 18. I tell him “good round” and he tells me, “I save my best game for the 19th hole!”

If I fucking see your brother again, I will hit him in the face.