Dear Nineteen Year Old Self

Dear nineteen year old self,

Remember how you used to wonder why all the girls your age liked the older guys? And how you couldn’t understand why the older guys were able to walk away from the ‘hotties’ like they meant nothing to them? Guess what – We finally figured it out!

The answer is, as you get older, life happens, and you actually have to do shit. So, you no longer pretend like you have shit to do, but you actually really do have shit to do! As far as maturity goes, I wouldn’t worry too much about that, just try to pretend like your mature. Maturity doesn’t actually happen to guys, they just learn how to trick people better.

And when girls talk about how they really like dreamers and whimsical guys? Yeah, I would pretty much ignore that. Just try to complement them a lot and listen when you talk. They really don’t care about your biceps half as much as you think. In fact, as you get older, you will start to learn that nobody really gives a shit about you! For this reason, you should probably take your work a little more seriously, and that girl who takes really long to text you back a little less.

Sincerely yours,

Your older self.

I Doth Sweat


Sweat profusing from my head and my arms legs and then

I go outside to sweat some more this sun beats hard these rays are whores.

Cannot tell you how to spell can only say the rhymes I tell.

Though some of them are much better though some of them go much deeper.

This one’s not as good no I don’t think I’m pretty sure this rhyme doth stink.

You know what man I don’t quite care I’m sweating badly through my hair my underarms they do sweat too I smell so bad I shouldn’t tell you.

Well you know a-ha pity, Doe a dear a female thing. What the heck is with my mind why this guy rhyme all the time?

It’s a crazy a gift I’m told no not really a curse of old these rhymes keep coming talking too I don’t know why you read them through.

Ya da-da da-dey de dom, dom de do na jay asom. Lesson learned no not a thing just a matter of time wasting.

How depressing this rhyme is whatever I don’t care I wrote this shit. But before and on this day I wrote a story I thought was great guess it sucked no one read it just another piece of shit but if seemed good from what I read, but then again it was in my head I hope that you’ve enjoyed our time I hope you kinda liked my rhyme but if you didn’t I don’t care go read that story cause it’s still there.

– Thomas M. Watt

McWatty9’s Yoga Class For People Who Want To Take A Yoga Class


Int. – About thirty people enter the room. Mirrors cover three of the walls, while one window sits facing the outside, where all the pervs sit to watch. Most of the practitioners are women, several are men, and all have brought with them curled up mats as well as a single foam brick. McWatty9, the yogi for the class, stands at the front, with a microphone earpiece running along his cheek.


Welcome folks, welcome. I’m so happy to be leading you all in your journey towards becoming better looking today. I’m especially excited to see the girl in the red tank top do upward dog, and not so much the fat bald guy in the back corner. Yes you, with the bag of potato chips.


Are you sure you are properly trained to teach this course?


(Closing eyes, nodding patiently, speaking with a soothing tone)

Yes Bill, yes.


(With underwear over his head, wearing a suit)

New controller should arrive tomorrow.


(Sounding very distressed, walking hurriedly over to the big black box that is called a ‘stereo’)

Yes, yes, yes! Well, my little yoginies, it is time to start with our flexibility. Let me get my yoga mix started, and while I’m at it, I want you to stand there and practice your breathing.

(As the class all stands there and practices their breathing, the eight-mile soundtrack begins blaring at a decibel so loud Snobert blows his eardrums. Snobert screams)


Get outta here Snobert! You’re disrupting the class!

(Bill and Snobert share a hug, Snobert leaves)


Now then, I want everybody to inhale.

(They do)


Now exhale. Then inhale. Then exhale. Then inhale twice. Then exhale four times. Try to inhale super loudly. Now exhale quietly. Now try to inhale in your left nostril while simultaneously exhaling out your right.

(Aaron, the guy in the suit with underwear over his head, falls over)


Great. Now stick your right arm in. Now take your right arm out. Now put your left foot in. Now shake it all about. Very good. Very very good.

(The Hokey-pokey continues for sometime, until the entire song is finally finished)


Now, I want everybody to bring their foam bricks forward to me please.

(After receiving all of the foam bricks, McWatty9 builds an igloo with them)


There we go. That’s what those things are actually for. And I’m forbidden to say what the elastic straps you all brought are actually intended to do. Okay, now everybody, sit down.

(Everyone does)


Now stand up.

(They do)

Sit down. Stand up. Breath. Jump in the air. Wave your arms. Spin around. Do the worm. Start break-dancing. Do the Homeless Joe. Do a hand stand. Do a headstand. Try to fold your legs into a pretzel. Try to get out of the pretzel. Now lay down and wait there until I tell you to stop.

(Five days later)


Very good, everyone! (Sitting down with his knees pointed out, hands pressed together at his sternum, closes his eyes and nods)







The buzz of the alarm clock was like torture to his ears. He smeared his eyelids open, groaned, then sat upright and slammed his bedside radio to quiet.

6:00 AM

He walked sulkily over to his small refrigerator and popped it open. He took out a carrot and a coke, and ate the two together. Breakfast.

Picking up his metal detector, treasure-hunter-guy walked out the front door of his straw covered hut, and fifty paces later found himself on the sandy shores of the beach. He smiled.

Treasure-Hunter-Guy had formerly been a student at UCLA medical school. He was on his way to becoming a neurosurgeon, and beyond that he had received offers to teach at the collegiate level. But he didn’t want that. No no no. Treasure-Hunter-Guy opted instead to move to Mexico, taking only his beloved metal-detector stick with him. Everyday he searched, up and down the seashore, hoping to find actual buried treasure.

Usually, a day’s work brought him some washed up belt buckles, or a flashlight, or lost keys. He would go into town and sell the goods for a peso or two. And that was on a good day.

He sighed and smiled as he looked out at the morning waves. “Today we’re gonna prove everyone wrong, little lady. I know I made the right decision. Those friends of mine who are now millionaires won’t be laughing anymore. I just know it.”

He continued on, smiling as he went. He waved to the regular fishermen, who waved back. He greeted the early morning beach goers with a friendly, “Hola,”  who responded with an upbeat, “Chupa mi pito.”

Some went to the beach early to surf the waves, others to read books, and some of the girls just to tan. He always smiled sheepishly when he passed the good-looking ones, tipping his straw sombrero as he passed.

Treasure-Hunter-Guy knew they found him interesting. He had been told more than a few times that he was like one of those sexy star-wars jedi knights, the way he brandished his metal detector stick so fluidly, so confidently. He liked the tanning girls. He especially liked it when they were lying face-down and turned the other way, so he could check out there butt-crack with a quick peak as he walked by.

He sighed. He couldn’t have a relationship though, no-sir-ee. The treasure wasn’t about to catch itself. It was a full time gig.

He continued on walking, rolling his corduroys up as the water faintly splashed his ankles. It wasn’t unusual for the beach-goers to watch him. He knew how cool he looked, and he tried to behave modestly from all the attention he received. He was nothing like treasure-hunter Bob, who liked to gloat and show off that hundred-dollar pocket watch to any who would listen. Treasure-hunter-guy sneered. “One good catch.” He shook his head, smiling. “Pure luck.”

The detector began to buzz loudly, and he felt the vibration emanating up his forearm.

“Oh boy oh boy!” He said, swiping his hands together.

He quickly shoveled the dirt away, but found all too quickly it was buried very deep underground. The sand was mixed with rocks, but he continued to tear through it relentlessly, until, finally, he came upon a chest.

“Baby…” He said, tears filling his eyes. “Is it really you?”

He clasped the center of it, and tugged it out. It was coming easy, but he heaved and he pulled, until finally, he got the entire chest free. It was incredibly long, much longer than he had ever imagined a treasure chest would be.

“Oh boy oh boy!” He yelled, with a jump and a high-pitched squeal. There was a rusty lock on the front of it.

Thinking quickly, Treasure-hunter-guy began swinging his stick and pummeling the lock. The metal detector lost its shape, bending in multiple places, until, eventually, the lock broke free. He scrambled to his knees, threw the top of the treasure chest open, and looked excitedly at his long-awaited find.

It was a metal detector.

He pulled it out, staring confusedly at it, before finally  pulling it out. He shrugged his shoulders, then returned to his feet. He flipped the switch on, and sighed as he strolled casually along the beach once more.

– Thomas M. Watt

Press Briefing – Sept. 2nd, 2013

(The reporters are all sipping on capri-suns and talking about how good the fruit punch flavor is. Several of them are eating lunchables, happily digesting bologna on crackers. The mood is light and hearty, until Bill whips out a pouch of gushers. Many of the other reporters get upset that he only shares with Snobert, who sits at his side. A new reporter enters the room, named Aaron, and catches the eye of most everyone else, as for some unknown reason Aaron is wearing whitey-tighties over his head. He has a nice suit on underneath, however. McWatty9 enters from behind the red curtain, stands behind the podium in order to address Wattie nation.)

McWatty9 – Ladies and gentlemen, people of the wordpress, I am happy  to inform you that my nation is expanding. We’ve taken in friends from countries all over the world, and have received visits from many countries I have never even heard of. I’m very excited about all this, but to say I’m not somewhat nervous would be a lie. As it stands, we’ve taken in one-hundred and twenty two followers. We have over a thousand views, and so many likes I feel super duper cool. I don’t have too much to say, other than I’m saddened by the recent drop in support from Sharplittlepencil, and very distraught by several former followers who have left us. For Sharplittlepencil, I’m setting up signs around the neighborhood that say, ‘Have you seen this blogger?’ And I am posting a picture of a woman with a pencil tucked over her ear. As for the followers who have left us, I have been flying around the world, finding out where they live, and throwing bricks into their windows at night. It is a very scary thing to do, and sends messages like, ‘Watch out for that brick that just flew through your window.’ Now then, the forum is open for questions.

Bill – (raises hand, finishes chewing up his delicious gushers, swallows down five at once, poses question) McWatty9, many of your original supporters are somewhat confused by the recent change in style. You’ve written more than a few post about God, which some of us don’t really want to hear, and you’ve become much more of a poet than a humorist. What is the reasoning for your recent change in style?

(McWatty9 nods, points finger confidently) Excellent question Bill. I’ve found that I enjoy putting poetry together, for the rhymes come quite easy for me. As far as God goes, I pretty much rely on Him for everything, and so I’m not about to deny that just to appease a few folk. Only a short while ago, I posted a short script about me hanging out with the Kardashian family. Shortly afterward, I published a post about me being on the bachelor. I don’t really know what happened, but the bachelor post bombed, and I just felt very sick about the whole thing. Sometimes I wonder if my humor is simply to childish and idiotic for others beside myself to enjoy. So in short, suck-it Bill.

Snober – (shouting back instantly) Many of your new supporters are not familiar with just how arrogant and profane you can be. Does it bother you too know that as your following grows you can no longer get away with such statements as ‘Suck-it’? It is a rude, classless thing to say, and I for one am always disgusted to hear you say such crude things. I liked the post about the horses, why not just stick with things of this nature?

(McWatty9 squints his eyes) Snobert, I think I’m speaking for everyone else here when I say, from the bottom of my heart, suck-it.

(Snobert appears outstandingly offended, then becomes really really sad, and then embraces Bill with a back-patting hug)

McWatty9 – Anyone else?

(Aaron, the new reporter in the back, with the fine-looking suit and whitey-tighties over his head, raises his hand)

McWatty9 – Yes, Aaron?

Aaron – Recently you’ve begun to post your quest for ’30 days of listening’. Yesterday, on day three, you neglected to continue this thread. Are you already finished listening? Don’t you realized the key to a good blog is all about consistency?

McWatty9 – Yes Aaron, thanks for asking. Yesterday, I did in fact fail to publish a post in continuance of my thirty days of listening. I didn’t have any in-depth conversations with anyone new, and I was simply too tired to write one up. I did expect to post two today, and label them ‘Day 3’ and ‘Day 4’ but now you’ve gone and ruined that. I shall do it anyways, I suppose.

Aaron – And another thing – in your recent air-strikes against enemy blogs, you’ve failed to be as aggressive as you should. You waste your bombs, you fly like shit, and you’re simply not very good.

McWatty9 – (Appearing greatly distressed) You know what Aaron, I don’t think anybody reading this will actually understand what any of that means. You are always so negative and so love to tell me what I do wrong. For that, I say unto you, suck-it Aaron.

(Aaron drops head, looks very sad)

McWatty9 – In summary, I am new to having an actual readership, and will do my best to bring my nation good content, while at the same time remaining true to myself and whatever ideas come to me. I am actively looking for more format, and specifically looking to give you all something to look forward to when you read my post. Consistency, I suppose. I am hoping to start up a short-story Sunday, and plan to form a routine something like poems in the morning, actual writing mid-day, and humor at night. These ideas are in the works, and I promise you the neurons in my brain are working overtime to create such a format on this blog. Thank you all for being part of Wattie nation, Aaron can suck-it, and I hope to bring you more quality content in the days and hours to come. Thank you for supporting this ever growing nation. Peace, I’m out.

(McWatty9 walks back behind red curtain, reporters all nod their heads and return to eating, several start a food fight, Aaron gets hit in the eye by a bite-size brownie and begins to cry)

20 Point Plan to writing a Best Seller

A lot of publishers ask me how I see my work developing from where it stands today to becoming a future bestseller. I answer them with what I call my ’20 point plan to writing a Best Seller.’

1.)    Print at local Kinkos!

2.)    Submit Submit Submit!

3.)    Overcome rejections!

4.)    Submit some more!

5.)    Rejections!

6.)    Get a real job and write on the side!

7.)    Become an alcoholic!

8.)    Despise writers who actually stuck it out!

9.)    Try to write again!

10.) Fail!

11.) Tear my hair out and vow to never write again!

12.) Get married!

13.) Get divorced!

14.) Spend my life regretting the fact that I never pursued my dream to the end!

15.) Give younger people advice about hitting the harsh reality of life!

16.) Submit work one final time!

17.) Die!

18.) Work gets picked up!

19.) Work gets rave reviews!

20.) Work becomes a best seller!

McWatty9: The Bachelor


Int. – Big room filled with beautiful woman in ankle length dresses, high heels, and perfect smiles. McWatty9 looking ruggishly handsome in a sweet suit that cost upwards of fifty million dollars.


Hello ladies. As many of you may have guessed, I am looking for one of you to wed. All my life I’ve been dating beautiful woman, but could never quite find the right match. Then one day I thought – why not? What better place to meet your future wife then a reality show where it’s already predetermined you’re going to pop the question to a woman you  haven’t even met yet?

Cut to the chase – Ext. – scenic view. McWatty9 is out on a date with Tina. They are drinking mimosas and smiling the successful kind of way. Both are staring into each others eyes and in the far background, waves can be seen breaking on the shore, palm tree branches are swept up by the wind, and a gardener is picking up dog shit in the corner of the screen.


Melanie, I can’t get over how beautiful your eyes look. They’re so blue, like the ocean, or… waves in the ocean.


(Placing hand over McWatty9’s hand, still smiling succesfully) McWatty9, that’s so sweet! But I’m not Melanie, I’m Tina.


(Taken aback) Oh, that’s right. Sorry. How could I forget, Melanie’s got those green eyes that are… so green. Like the grass, or… a front lawn in a country club.


Aw, McWatty9! (Pressing hands into her chest) You’re so good with words!

Int. – Small room with decorative paintings in the background. McWatty9 sits alone before the camera, discussing his date with Tina. He appears giddy)


Man! These chicks love me over here! I’ve never received so much attention in my life! All I do is keep sayin’ shit about the color of their eyes! This is great!

INT. – Fine Resturant. McWatty9 is on a special dinner date with Melanie.


Melanie, your eyes are so… beautiful.


McWatty9, all you ever talk about is my eyes. Can we just talk about something else, please?


(Scratching back of head) Melanie, your teeth… they’re so, white! White as a… piano key!


(smiling again) Do you really mean that?

(The waitress approaches, she is a very attractive brunette with tattoos down her arm)


Are you two ready to order?


(Looks over menu briefly, slowly raises glance to waitress, from her waist, through her bosom, then back to her waist, then to her face)

You know I’m the bachelor, right?


Um. Yeah.


(Pointing his index finger at the waitress as if it is a gun) In that case, I’ll have you.


Sir, I’m sorry but I’m not on the menu.


You know, you have some of the nicest eyes I’ve ever seen.



(Waitress exits)


What the heck?




What the hell was that? You just totally hit on her right in front of me!


Jeeze, someone’s a little possessive. Guess I know who’s isn’t getting a rose.

INT. – Rose ceremony. All but one rose is left.


And the final rose goes to… the waitress!

PRODUCER (off-screen)

Uhh. You have to pick one of the contestants.


(Slumping shoulders) Fine. The final rose goes to… whoever wants to sleep with me tonight!

The girls appear angry, disgusted, confused, then, ever so slowly, and one by one, they all gradually raise their hands.


Keeping up with the Kardashians!.. and mcwatty9

ImageSome of you may have already heard, but in case you haven’t, I’ve been invited to be a part of the newest season of ‘Keeping up with the Kardashians’. That’s right, yours truly! Here’s how it went.

Int. – Dining room table – lavishly decorated. The family is all there – McWatty9, Kim, Khloe, Kourtney, Kris, Bruce Jenner, Rob, and the lesser known little boy with a thumb growing out from his forehead that the cameramen always make sure to avoid. Everything seems to be fine, and the family is all cutting and eating steak. Kris turns to McWatty9.


McWatty9, how come you never came with us to the beach today?


(Putting down fork and knife) Oh, sorry Mrs. Kris. I wanted to go, but I am trying to get my book published, so I really have to get done editing before I can submit it.


(Nods, then raises dark eyebrows as she returns to her steak)


(Smiles, happy to relieve the tension, returns to his meal as well)


But, don’t you think it’s important for you to spend time with us? I mean, I just feel like you’re spending all day with that novel.


(Returning fork and knife to table, chewing down food, wiping clean face with napkin)

Yes, I know, it’s just that I don’t really have any money, and I won’t make a single dollar until I can sell this thing, you know?


(shakes head, returns to steak)


(Takes a breath for a moment, has a sip of red wine)


Yeah but why is money so important to you? There’s more to life than money, you know. I just feel like it’s important you spend more time with us, is all.


(Setting glass of wine back down, smearing lips on T-shirt sleeve) Yeah, I know. It’s true, money isn’t everything. But I’m kind of, like, a little broke right now. So I just need to get a little bit of money first, but as soon as I get some, I promise I’ll spend more time with all you guys.


(Punching fist into table) Dammit McWatty9, all you ever think about is yourself. (Leaving table, kicks a little dog into the wall on the way out)


Why can’t you at least try to spend more time with us McWatty9? I mean, at least take a break once in a while.


(Smearing the pants of his leg, scratching the back of his head, exhaling into the ball of his fist) Okay, you guys. You do understand that I’m making nothing here, right? I mean, I don’t got shit. Last time I went out with you all, it only took five hours to blow through the rest of my savings. I’m honestly beginning to question if it was even a good idea for me come on your show in the first place.


(Grabbing a white napkin in hand, smacking it down into the table) It’s not a show, it’s a family. And if you can’t accept that than maybe it’s better off you leave.


(Slumping over his thighs) Look, I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t have said that. You guys know I’d love to hang around and talk about my feelings all day, but it’s just a lot harder when you’re broke and nobody else actually cares about your feelings, you know?


Of course we care about your feelings!


(Groaning, forcing hands through his hair) Okay, well, maybe you guys do. The problem’s not the feelings so much as the lack of money. Why did Ryan Seacrest throw me on here? You guys spend like, ten thousand dollars a day. In the non-published writing industry, that kind of money is the equivalent of ordering a latte instead of a coffee every morning. It just doesn’t happen.


You do know I won a gold metal, don’t you?


(shaking head) Yeah… why?


Just making sure.




(Hurrying to find broomstick, retrieves broomstick, sweeps little boy out of the room) Back to the basement, sweetheart.


McWatty9, I think you need to come out with us more. You’ll have a good time, I promise!

(Rest of the family all claps, agrees, then sips wine with smirks on their faces, angling their glances at McWatty9)


(Pulling hair out)

Everybody, please try to understand. I don’t have any money. You have lots of money. Unless you want to play monopoly every night while we drink water, I don’t think you want me around.


Don’t be such a bum, McWatty9!


Yeah, why can’t you just get a normal job?


I just… I really want to do this writing thing. It’s important to me.


More important than spending time with your new family?


No, I don’t mean it that way.


Hey McWatty.




You know I got a gold metal, don’t you.


(Slumping shoulders, sighing)

Okay, look. I have about fifty dollars. I’ll just go spend it all and then plunge into massive debt if that’ll make everybody happy.




How to be Great at Everything

Herein lies the secret to being great at everything. It is ten rules, which I call the ‘Ten Pillars to being the Greatest at Everything’.

1.) Never give in to defeat.

2.) Never lose.

3.) Win every time.

4.) If you are close to losing, get up and leave the game immediately. Whip out your phone and pretend the call is very important.

5.) When your partner is about to break up with you, interrupt them and then break up with them instead.

6.) When someone sounds smarter than you, bust out a monocle and place it in your eye. Nod condescendingly, with a single eyebrow lowered.

7.) If someone is bragging about how much they bench press, just add fifteen pounds to whatever they said their ‘max’ was then claim that’s what you rep.

8.) Whenever you go to a dinner party, just walk around like you are the greatest person there. Proceed to scoff appropriately at those less great than you.

9.) Don’t ever accept a loss. There is always an excuse to be made, and you can turn that excuse into a reason you really should have won, even though you didn’t. Chalk these ‘false losses’ up as victories to whomever wants to know.

10.) Learn to run really fast. Part of being the greatest entails many people being jealous of all your victories and subsequently wanting to ‘beat you up’.

Did you know? Every famous rapper alive is actually tied for the coveted position of being the number one greatest rapper in the world.