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Barney's Blog

EMRGENCY RROOM

(5/19/08)

Thweers bwwn an accieernht. Ok thus isn't wirkuing/

Hello, I'm Bill, a nurse here at St. Anthony's. Patient Stinson here asked me to type this stupid blog for him because he's suffered severe injuries to over 83% of his body. He says he'll pay me quite handsomely and judging by the stack of hundreds I found in the suit we cut off him, I believe him. So here goes.

"Barnacles, when you find yourself in pursuit of the ladies, you may be forced to don a disguise of a less awesome nature, such as a full body cast. Now…"

Hold on. What the hell is a Barnacle? And are you saying you wear a costume when you're trying to pick up chicks?

uM. yeAh.

Why?

oT gEt therm tro go home wiyth me.

That's kind of pathetic, no? Seems to me you'd look like a damn fool wearing a costume in the middle of the club. Don't people laugh at you?

No.

Sure they don't.

Tey dwont!

Why don't you just be honest about yourself and tell a woman she looks beautiful? Usually works for me, and I empty bedpans for a living.

Wrll you're during It wrOng!!!

That's funny. I have not one, but two lady friends from last night who may beg to differ.

Twyo?

Okay, anyone who is actually reading this blog: You're being misled. Meeting women is not that complicated. You don't need capes or costumes or whatever. Just show an interest in what she likes. Make her feel special. Oh, and wear a suit.

iM ntt gong to payy you noww.

Huh. Then I guess I'll be a little slower with your morphine drip.

Nnnnoooo!



Barney's Mail Sack

(5/12/08)

Dear Barney,

You know how you're always right about everything? How you have an uncanny ability to dispense with a theory, with some words of wisdom that undoubtedly always prove right? And how you look really, really awesome in suits? Well I can't believe I'm saying this because you've taught me so much and I owe you the world, but I think I'm going to respectfully disagree with you on serious relationships. See, I'm in a relationship with my doctor girlfriend, Zella Stinman, and the more serious we get, the more it seems like birds are singing, angels are jumping from cloud to cloud, and little kids are playing tiddlywinks in grassy fields or whatever they do. That seems so much more rewarding to me than how my awesome best friend has incredible sex with one hot chick one night and then with a new and different hot chick the next night, and so on and so on ad infinitum. Is there something I'm missing?

- Med Tosby - New York, NY


Dear Med,

Yes. You're missing something fundamental. Observe.




Get well soon,

Barney



A Call to Wings

(5/5/08)

Behind every great man is a great wingman: Michael Jordan had Scottie Pippen, George Bush the First had Dan Quayle, and Han Solo had Chewbacca. But sadly you can't just snap your fingers and find a Dan Quayle, so I have been forced to scrape by with Ted as my wingman for the last few years. But no more.

I am in the market for a new wingman.

Below is my "Application to be Barney Stinson's Wingman." If you think you're up to the job - and let's face it, you're probably not - please complete the form and mail it back to BarneyStinson@yahoo.com.

-The Barnacle



THE BRO CODE

(4/28/08)

Whether we know it or not, each of us lead our lives by an internalized code of conduct. Some call it morality. Others call it religion. I call it "The Bro Code."



Years ago, I set forth to compile and articulate the unspoken mores that exist between and among Bros the world over. While not intending to write a "Guide To Being a Bro," if men should treat it as such and choose to pass this compendium of knowledge from generation to generation, I have little doubt it would bring a tear to my eye… but not out of it - that would be a violation of ARTICLE 77: "A Bro never cries."

The Bro Code is a living document - manifest in its 83 amendments - and as such is not yet publicly available in an unabridged volume. The original document is housed in a non-disclosed location, two stories beneath sea level in a vacuum-sealed bulletproof chamber. Re-printed here is a sampling of some of her articles. Learn. Live. Enjoy.

ARTICLE 26 "A bro will, in a timely manner, alert his bro to the existence of a girl fight." A Bro must never hesitate before communicating the possibility of fisticuffs between two humans of the female variety [[HENCEFORTH "GIRL FIGHT"]], in an effort to make possible and probable that another Bro or Bros can partake in observation. A timely manner is open to interpretation based on the initial Bro's viewing and processing of the potential feminine conflagration. Said Bro must use any and all methods of media distribution at his disposal, including but not limited to: telecommunications, elbow nudging, fiber optics, the Broney express, and postcards. If an informed Bro is unable to witness the girl fight firsthand, the spotter Bro is responsible for documenting and relating details of the girl fight via pictures, video*, or barring any other reasonable method, interpretive dance and/or pantomime. Tabling Bro obligations to witness a XX chromosomal scuffle is not only condoned, but encouraged, and in some cases, required. Please refer to the Brobligation rubric as elucidated in AMENDMENT 83: "The REALLY hot sister and other hump trumps." * SEE ZaBroder film

ARTICLE 53 "A Bro will, whenever possible, provide his Bro with protection." In the event that one Bro finds himself lacking the necessary prophylactic accoutrements needed to complete the act of coitus in a safe and effective manner, he is in the right to expect his Bro will use all measures within or without his means to provide the aforementioned prophylactic in a timely yet discreet fashion. When a Bro signals his need using previously agreed upon code words and/or body signage, it is understood that his Bro will discontinue all present activity [excepting the act of coitus itself [whereby which Bro vows to finish as quickly as possible]], in order to respond with a panoply of options at Bro-in-need's location. A Bro must patronize the most rapid method of transportation available while endeavoring to assist his Bro. In no instance may a two-wheeled bicycle be used* as this is not only humiliating, but also potentially harmful to the perineum - a zone of tissue perilously adjacent to noted sexual organs. In the event that a state, federal, international, or galactic law is breached due to recklessness, unacceptable levels of speed, and/or the hijacking of an airborne vehicle(s), it is understood that the primary Bro will shoulder any associated legal fees or fines. However, any costs or damages incurred from the use of public transportation are the responsibility of the secondary Bro alone as this is an instance of Quid Pro Bro. Upon arrival at the primary Bro's location, the secondary Bro must exercise complete discretion so as not to disrupt the primary Bro's "flow." It is understood that a Bro will engage in all training necessary to achieve this objective, including, at minimum, a five month Ninjitsu curriculum mastering the twin arts of stealth and secrecy.** Once the primary Bro has been supplied with the necessary prophylactic(s), the Brocedure is deemed complete upon exchange of the traditional, though in this case silent, "high five." Tacit in this unspoken ritual is the understanding that said episode will never be spoken of again, unless it's part of an awesome story. * Unless a bicycle is the ONLY form of transportation, as in some Cambodian villages ** SEE APPENDIX E: "List of approved ninja training facilities and dojos."

ARTICLE 89 "A Bro may never pursue the mom of another Bro." Be it here resolved that at no point is it permissible for one Bro to engage in carnal delicacies with another Bro's mother. It is, however, allowed and encouraged for one Bro to graphically suggest to a Bro the athletic feats, animalia, and/or machinery utilized during a fictional encounter with his mom. [[NOTA BENE: It is customary for a Bro to avoid such Brocularity if his Bro's mom is a 9 or better, for fear of Oedipal inducement.]] Should a Bro discover his Bro is in fact adopted, he is free to pursue his Bro's adoptive mother, but only after first corroborating non-biological parentage through notarized birth certificates, hospital records, or comparative dioxyribonucleic acid gel electrophoresis, whichever is easiest. Since the adopted Bro cannot legitimately claim to have shared a canal with his Bro, ARTICLE 89 expressly prohibits the adopted Bro from invoking the Sloppy Second clause in any related filings with the International Court of Bros. Though the mom of a Bro is always off limits, the step-mom of a Bro is allowed if she initiates it and/or is wearing at least one article of leopard print clothing. If she looks good in it.



BEACH VIDEOS

(4/21/08)

When you see a link to a beach video on this blog, you're not wrong to expect a little hidden camera work from a topless beach and some hushed commentary from your Uncle Barney, as exemplified in my forthcoming documentary series, "Planet Boob."

But this beach video… is priceless.

Sandcastles in the Sand



THE CHAIN CIRCLE PYRAMID OF SCREAMING

(4/14/08)

HEY STUPID BLOG READERS!!! WHY DON'T YOU READ MY BLOG MORE?!?! Sorry. My boss screamed at me over a few missing schematics and I had to release some steam. Why didn't I yell at my boss and not at you? Because that would be dumb, idiot.

You see, we all learn as children that screaming leads to results, and it's no different in the workplace. America was built on the backs of men and women who were yelled at to work harder, and the tradition has been screamed from generation to generation. But you can't just scream at anybody… that would be counter-productive. That's why it's imperative you understand where you stand on the Pyramid of ScreamingTM.

What exactly is the Pyramid of ScreamingTM?

The Pyramid of ScreamingTM is a societal rubric that dismisses the parlor tricks of the Chain of Screaming, Scream Ladder, South Beach Screaming, and other methodologies and focuses on the golden rule of scream etiquette: You can only scream beneath you.

To illustrate how it works, here's the scream pyramid for a professional football team:



The Head Coach can't scream at the Owner, but can scream at anyone else. The Quarterback can scream at his teammates, but not at his coaches. And the Punter screams at no one. He's lucky to have a job.

It's no different inside your office, as exemplified by my own corporate scream pyramid:



Below is a blank Scream Pyramid for you to fill in. If you're not sure where you fit, you can always trick a colleague into screaming at someone and then see where the pieces fall. That's how I figured out I was above the V.P. of Synergy.



IMPORTANT NOTE: If you find yourself at the bottom, don't fret. The beauty of the pyramid is that there's always someone available to be the new foundation. The janitorial crew, the sleepy-eyed security man, or anyone who doesn't speak English are great places to start.



SCRAPBOOKING

(3/31/08)



Retaining evidence of ANYTHING you’ve ever said or done is foolish if not actionable, particularly if you’ve said and done the type of things I’ve said and done. But I am human, after all, and have a unique soft spot for the many many many acrobatic moments I’ve shared with willing ladies over the years. So how best to cherish these memories?

Most suggest a tawdry list or tally - hardly the proper forum for exalting the unique feminine beauties who, at some point in the past, so graciously let you nail them. That’s why I suggest today’s nostalgic gentlemen create and maintain a well-crafted scrapbook. Here’s how to do it.

NOTE: Fight the urge to turn your scrapbook into a coffee table book. Lack of secrecy can and will lead to disastrous consequences, including, but not limited to, the destruction of your treasured scrapbook.

HOW TO MAKE A SCRAPBOOK

STEP 1: GET LAID


STEP 2: TAKE PICTURE

Something tasteful that captures the true essence of the woman. You’ll want to experiment to find your own style, but I’ve found the combination of zoom lens and cleavage to be the most classically rewarding.

STEP 3: GATHER ARTIFACTS

For instance, did you conjugate in a hotel? Well that room key doesn’t just unlock a room, it unlocks the memory of getting laid in that room.

CHOOSE A COMPLIMENTARY COLOR

Preferably, the background color of each page should reflect some aspect of your quarry. Was she Goth? Make it black. Was she a bride? Make it white. Was she a nun? How about a mixture of black and white.

STEP 5: PICK A BORDER

Here's where I really like to get creative. On page 83 of my own scrapbook, I detail a roll in the hay with a strapping young milkmaid. We quite literally rolled in hay. Hence, I constructed a border out of strands of hay I later found attached to my underpants.

STEP 6: JOURNALING

A picture is worth a thousand words, but sometimes those thousand words leave you little to no idea just who the girl was, or more importantly, just who you were. More information is always helpful. Here’s a sample journal from one of my scrapbook pages:

Alias: Elsworth Di Bona

Angle: Prince of Norway – I was to set sail to reclaim my rightful Norwegian throne stolen from me by the evil Dr. Reifenstandt. It was a dangerous, and most likely, deadly mission but such was the risk necessary to ensure my family crest be restored to its rightful, noble grandeur. My enemies could have been lurking anywhere, so it was imperative I secure safe lodging for the night.

Girl: Jenni Hendriks

Measurements: 36-24-35

Special notes: Great backrubs. Unfortunately, roommate raised by elderly Norwegian aunt.

If seen again: Pretend you have twin brother; amnesia; or you’re undercover and can’t talk now.

STEP 7: ENJOY YOUR SCRAPBOOK!

Not only have you commemorated your conquests in a classier way than the traditional notch on the bedpost, but you’ve also embarked on a lifelong hobby that will bestow great personal joy for years to come. Which brings us to the final and most important step of scrapbooking…

STEP 8: GET LAID AGAIN



8.3 Seconds – That’s All You’ve Got To Make A First Impression

(3/24/08)

Everyday, I get thousands upon millions of electronic mails asking how to pick up women. The truth of the matter - however unnatural and fundamentally opposed to everything you've ever learned about the opposite sex – is that a woman actually picks you. Worse yet, women are shamefully superficial: a woman will judge a man on his appearance alone, regardless of how big her rack is. And just how long after first sight does it take for a woman to decide if she’d sleep with a guy? Try 8.3 seconds*. That's 1.7 seconds faster than your typical rocket launch. Astonishing.

Without the verbal acumen, God-given physique, or the fashion literacy that allow me to ensnare a woman upon first glance, most men don’t stand a chance against the clock. Fortunately for you, I like to be ready for nightmare contingencies such as laryngitis or, heaven forbid, the sudden appearance of a zit. Therefore, I’ve started a list of a few easy-to-follow costume ensembles that allow virtually any man to make a first impression strong enough to defeat a woman’s 8.3 second barrier.

* Average time elapse based on a B.S. University study in which a cohort of attractive 18-22 year old females were exposed to pictures of random males and asked whether they would sleep with them. To legitimize the study, subjects were also shown a control picture of the lead researcher in a sharp suit and asked the same question.

FIRST IMPRESSION COSTUMES

MERCENARY

– Walk into a bar wearing a gun, a knife, and/or a grenade (toys preferred) and a woman’s first thought will be, “Now here’s a man who can protect me,” followed quickly with her second thought, “I’d like to engage in sexual relations with this heavily armed man.”

VETERINARIAN

– A smock covered in dog hair will instantly convince any woman to sleep with you. Why? Because there’s nothing sexier to a woman than a man who actively sought an education in the early detection of feline diabetes and other animal maladies.

ROCK AND ROLL DRUMMER

– Carry a pair of drumsticks and wear a denim vest emblazoned with a patch of your favorite band. Nobody knows what the drummer looks like. NOTE: Avoid the “Def Leppard” patch unless you plan on being uncomfortable all night.

L. L. COOL J

– Ladies love Cool James.

ARTIST

– Toss a beret on your melon and carry around a paintbrush and suddenly you’re the sensitive guy – which gives a woman the perverse pleasure of believing she might actually make you cry.

HAIR STYLIST

Throw on a T-shirt two sizes too small for you, grab a hair dryer and an issue of Cosmo, and when you walk into a bar EVERY woman will want to be with you.

ESCAPED CONVICT

– Leg irons, and a black and white striped jumpsuit. Women love jewelry, a pin-striped suit, and danger. Combine all three and you’ll make her Sing Sing for ten to twenty-five (minutes).



St. Barney's Day

(March 17, 2007)

They say Christmas only comes once a year… I guess someone forgot to tell St. Patrick. You see, next to Halloween, Mardi Gras, and that depressing two week window in late December when everyone feels lonely and desperate, there is no better time for a gentleman to go out carousing than St. Patty's Day. The alcohol flows like the swiftest Irish spring, chicks wear skimpy green outfits to commemorate the destitute émigrés of the Potato Famine, and even amateur pick-up lines like "Kiss me I'm Irish," "I wanna shamrock your body," and "Baby, you can banish my snakes" are surprisingly effective.

But beyond the joy of sharing several, rabid moments with complete strangers you'll never see again, St. Patty's Day is also a celebration of the many Irish innovations we enjoy the world over, such as redheads, violence, and of course, the limerick. Here are some limericks I've been crafting over the course of the last few minutes. Look for them in my forthcoming anthology of poems, "A Stinson For A Dream."

There once was a well-dressed man,
Who made a young lady a fan,
She gave him her number,
He laid pipe like a plumber,
Then before she awoke he ran.

All the fair lasses kept starin',
At a lad in the tavern MacLaren,
They fought for this stud,
In their bras and the mud,
Must be that pinstripe he's wearin'.

There was a young lass from Killarney,
Who promised a gentleman named Arnie,
That she only was his
Though a fat lie this is,
'Cause last night she was screaming O'Barney.

A man in a sharp navy blazer
Clearly hand-tailored by razor,
Went on a roll,
Captured his goal,
And never got tagged by a laser.

I was in love with a chick named Pam,
Who showed me pics of her fam,
Pretty cute cat,
But her mom was fat,
So I dumped her that night on the tram.