Tom Oatmeal

A Blog About Intercourse from a guy who doesn't get nervous about intercourse like his friend Ricky does.

98 notes

Instead of lethal injection, why not shackle him to the bar at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. in Studio City and make him live tweet the TV that plays Forrest Gump on a loop until he dies if mercury poisoning?

156 notes

Forget about what the fancy, hotshot business books tell you about networking. You want in? Then quit waiting for an invitation and just show up. Pay the $35 for parking. It’s worth it.
That’s what I did. By afternoon I was wandering around the company’s outdoor campus like I worked there.
I approached a group of young professionals.
"Late lunch?"
"Not really," said one woman and the others laughed.
"Oh well I guess I forgot it was daylight savings today!" I shouted sarcastically. 
I yanked my watch off and spun the dial an hour earlier and then held it out for everyone at the table to see.
"There!" I shouted. "You’re SOOOOOO right! What a perfectly reasonable time to have lunch! What on earth was I thinking!?"
"Hey, calm down man."
But I was SO mad! I took the loose watch and began whipping myself in the head with it until the smallest trickle of blood could be seen running down my face.
A few minutes later, the entire group was gone. I tried to follow them inside the building, but you need one of those electronic key cards.
"Robert," I told the security guard.
"That doesn’t mean anything."
"Then Gene is my name."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"My name is Bobert, then. Like formal Bob."
But the security guard refused.
To make it all worse, I forgot to change my watch back to the correct time so I missed a really important job interview. I probably could have still made the interview, but it was going to be close and I decided it wasn’t worth it to drive all that way if I was going to be late.
"What is it that these big time, wealthy CEOs have that I don’t?" I wondered and by midnight, I had the answer: Luck.

Forget about what the fancy, hotshot business books tell you about networking. You want in? Then quit waiting for an invitation and just show up. Pay the $35 for parking. It’s worth it.

That’s what I did. By afternoon I was wandering around the company’s outdoor campus like I worked there.

I approached a group of young professionals.

"Late lunch?"

"Not really," said one woman and the others laughed.

"Oh well I guess I forgot it was daylight savings today!" I shouted sarcastically. 

I yanked my watch off and spun the dial an hour earlier and then held it out for everyone at the table to see.

"There!" I shouted. "You’re SOOOOOO right! What a perfectly reasonable time to have lunch! What on earth was I thinking!?"

"Hey, calm down man."

But I was SO mad! I took the loose watch and began whipping myself in the head with it until the smallest trickle of blood could be seen running down my face.

A few minutes later, the entire group was gone. I tried to follow them inside the building, but you need one of those electronic key cards.

"Robert," I told the security guard.

"That doesn’t mean anything."

"Then Gene is my name."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"My name is Bobert, then. Like formal Bob."

But the security guard refused.

To make it all worse, I forgot to change my watch back to the correct time so I missed a really important job interview. I probably could have still made the interview, but it was going to be close and I decided it wasn’t worth it to drive all that way if I was going to be late.

"What is it that these big time, wealthy CEOs have that I don’t?" I wondered and by midnight, I had the answer: Luck.

Filed under Networking Business Solutions Resume Tips General Guidance

160 notes

If they ever make carrots illegal, it won’t be enough to just move them off the streets and into some evidence locker somewhere. Cops will have to carry little vegetable peelers in a separate holster. Then when they catch some scumbag trying to eat a carrot, one cop can detain the offender and force him to watch while another cop furiously peels the carrot down to nothing. And if a crowd gathers, even better!
Spread the word, folks: We will NOT be terrorized!

If they ever make carrots illegal, it won’t be enough to just move them off the streets and into some evidence locker somewhere. Cops will have to carry little vegetable peelers in a separate holster. Then when they catch some scumbag trying to eat a carrot, one cop can detain the offender and force him to watch while another cop furiously peels the carrot down to nothing. And if a crowd gathers, even better!

Spread the word, folks: We will NOT be terrorized!

Filed under The Future Carrots Police Cutlery

48 notes

Anonymous asked: You have a great literary mind; however, I question the necessity of you projecting your sickness into the blogosphere like this, especially given the already basically toxic nature of the internet. I recommend if this is a cry for help that you go get the help you know you need; and if it isn't, that you desist for the common good

Thanks, Anonymous!

115 notes

So it looks like the pattern of this conversation is to name a luxury hotel and then we’ll go around the circle spouting off the various amenities and how fresh they are. Fine. Got it. 
When it’s your turn, you say something about the towels and how the towels are so fresh that when you open the door to the bathroom, there is just a yak or a horse or whatever animal towels are made from. Probably should have researched it first.
"I think most towels are made from cotton," says one guy. "And cotton is a plant."
The way you get home is like this: After 100 yards of driving, you pull off the road and pretend to be getting something out from under the seat so you can weep openly without anyone noticing. The amount that you are able to cry is astonishing and you wonder about how much salt water you drank that day.
"Certainly not THIS much!"

So it looks like the pattern of this conversation is to name a luxury hotel and then we’ll go around the circle spouting off the various amenities and how fresh they are. Fine. Got it. 

When it’s your turn, you say something about the towels and how the towels are so fresh that when you open the door to the bathroom, there is just a yak or a horse or whatever animal towels are made from. Probably should have researched it first.

"I think most towels are made from cotton," says one guy. "And cotton is a plant."

The way you get home is like this: After 100 yards of driving, you pull off the road and pretend to be getting something out from under the seat so you can weep openly without anyone noticing. The amount that you are able to cry is astonishing and you wonder about how much salt water you drank that day.

"Certainly not THIS much!"

209 notes

The worst part about being a successful tech CEO out on a stroll with a bunch of doe-eyed youngsters is that all of your talk about risk and what it really takes to make it in such a cutthroat industry inevitably leads to a kind of “dive right in” mentality.
It’s not a problem until you approach a puddle of neon green liquid in the street and the group becomes vocally divided about whether it’s lime drink or antifreeze. To laugh it off would be to deviate from the most fundamental lesson of the day and so, from either a need to truly make a difference to these kids or simply to preserve your own maverick self image, you crouch down and drink as much of the liquid as you can scoop into your cupped hands.
It’s antifreeze. Wouldn’t you just know it? But as one of the area’s most respected and up-and-coming CEOs, you know better than to end a field trip by succumbing to the poisonous effects of the chemical. You fight the convulsions by repeatedly flexing every muscle in your body. The smell of excrement is blamed on the nearby homeless and at one point you manage to expel two mouthfuls of blood and vomit by pretending to tie your shoe. As you wave goodbye to the bus, your assistant assures that nobody suspected a thing.
But petty assurances are not enough so in the following weeks, you use your wealth and resources to eliminate everyone who attended the field trip. Bus drivers, included.

The worst part about being a successful tech CEO out on a stroll with a bunch of doe-eyed youngsters is that all of your talk about risk and what it really takes to make it in such a cutthroat industry inevitably leads to a kind of “dive right in” mentality.

It’s not a problem until you approach a puddle of neon green liquid in the street and the group becomes vocally divided about whether it’s lime drink or antifreeze. To laugh it off would be to deviate from the most fundamental lesson of the day and so, from either a need to truly make a difference to these kids or simply to preserve your own maverick self image, you crouch down and drink as much of the liquid as you can scoop into your cupped hands.

It’s antifreeze. Wouldn’t you just know it? But as one of the area’s most respected and up-and-coming CEOs, you know better than to end a field trip by succumbing to the poisonous effects of the chemical. You fight the convulsions by repeatedly flexing every muscle in your body. The smell of excrement is blamed on the nearby homeless and at one point you manage to expel two mouthfuls of blood and vomit by pretending to tie your shoe. As you wave goodbye to the bus, your assistant assures that nobody suspected a thing.

But petty assurances are not enough so in the following weeks, you use your wealth and resources to eliminate everyone who attended the field trip. Bus drivers, included.

31 notes

Have you ever wanted to get your life back on track, but just couldn’t find the time? Well, I’m really sorry to hear that! 

Anyways, a while back, my friend Mike Capes had a YouTube show called “For the Win” where he shared questionable advice meant to help people who probably didn’t want/deserve it. The show ended after the entire staff got poisoned, but that’s life. Mysterious. Like that old inspirational story where God and Jesus go down to the beach and take turns giving each other piggyback rides. My point is this: Mike Capes is back with a another advice show called “Just The Tip”. Hope you’ll check it out and even subscribe! Thanks a bundle.

Filed under funny videos advice lifestyle mike capes

134 notes

There could be nothing more powerful and moving than a public service announcement where a meth addict has all of his teeth fall out. He’s conflicted at first, but then eventually he brings his mind to a state of ease upon the assumption that at the very least he could put the teeth under his pillow. Then, whatever money the tooth fairy leaves, he could use to buy more meth.
It takes him days to fall asleep, but finally he does. He dreams about the tooth fairy, but when he wakes up and looks under his pillow, the teeth are gone and there is no money.
Suddenly, the dog runs into the room and it instantly becomes obvious to the viewer that the dog lapped up all of the teeth shards and somehow, they became arranged in his mouth like people teeth. 
The rest of the story follows the dog around and highlights his various successes.

There could be nothing more powerful and moving than a public service announcement where a meth addict has all of his teeth fall out. He’s conflicted at first, but then eventually he brings his mind to a state of ease upon the assumption that at the very least he could put the teeth under his pillow. Then, whatever money the tooth fairy leaves, he could use to buy more meth.

It takes him days to fall asleep, but finally he does. He dreams about the tooth fairy, but when he wakes up and looks under his pillow, the teeth are gone and there is no money.

Suddenly, the dog runs into the room and it instantly becomes obvious to the viewer that the dog lapped up all of the teeth shards and somehow, they became arranged in his mouth like people teeth. 

The rest of the story follows the dog around and highlights his various successes.

673 notes

Here’s a hot tip to help you stay warm this winter! If you’re near death, swallow a whole bunch of corn kernels and then rearrange your will to specify that you want to be cremated at a low heat so that the popcorn pops out of your mouth and ears. Enjoy!

Here’s a hot tip to help you stay warm this winter! If you’re near death, swallow a whole bunch of corn kernels and then rearrange your will to specify that you want to be cremated at a low heat so that the popcorn pops out of your mouth and ears. Enjoy!

2,796 notes

I know the carwash scares the dog, but tough shit. It scares me, too.  
The mechanism drags our vehicle in and I scream, “We’re going to die!”
The dog whimpers and barks.
"I’ve changed my mind!" I yell.  "Oh god, let me out!"  I use my fingers to pry at the closed windows, but it’s no use. We’re trapped in a tornado of escalating panic. My loss of control makes it worse for the dog and vice versa.
I know that in this space, the relationship between the dog and I is toxic, but he’s my friend and we’re supposed to see a movie later.

I vomit and beg the dog to kill me. I even take his little paws and manually place them on my throat, but either he’s not smart enough to understand strangulation or he fears that my death will force him to surrender a lifestyle he’s grown accustomed to.

At long last, daylight. The nightmare is over. The dog and I bolt out of the car and race over to a patch of grass next to the vending machines.
We embrace.  There are some things we need to work on, but not today.

I know the carwash scares the dog, but tough shit. It scares me, too. 

The mechanism drags our vehicle in and I scream, “We’re going to die!”

The dog whimpers and barks.

"I’ve changed my mind!" I yell.  "Oh god, let me out!"  I use my fingers to pry at the closed windows, but it’s no use. We’re trapped in a tornado of escalating panic. My loss of control makes it worse for the dog and vice versa.

I know that in this space, the relationship between the dog and I is toxic, but he’s my friend and we’re supposed to see a movie later.

I vomit and beg the dog to kill me. I even take his little paws and manually place them on my throat, but either he’s not smart enough to understand strangulation or he fears that my death will force him to surrender a lifestyle he’s grown accustomed to.

At long last, daylight. The nightmare is over. The dog and I bolt out of the car and race over to a patch of grass next to the vending machines.

We embrace.  There are some things we need to work on, but not today.