Decent Site of the Week: Texts From Last Night

Decent chance you’ve heard of this site before, but we figured, “Hey, what the fuck, ya know?” Texts From Last Night is a collection of anonymous user submitted texts (with the area code included) that reveal funny situations and musings. Texts From Last Night is basically exploiting “the tendency to press ‘send’ more easily as the night turns to morning.” Here are a few so you get the gist:


I just walked into a room at this party and someone yelled “dibs!”…


Grinding on my ninth grade teacher. Dreams really do come true


I was just told by a cop that my party was the most epic party they ever crashed.


***In the spirit of Texts From Last Night, we’ll share a decent text of our own. Here’s an actual exchange I enjoyed with Community member Lice a few nights ago:

Lice: Sitting next to Steve Kerr at the airport bar.
Tube: Buy him a shot of Jager!
Lice: We just did some Jack.
Tube: Get the fuck outta here. Maybe some vodka next?
Lice: He’s a chill cat. Possibilities are endless.
Tube: Do some shnizzle with him off the bar.
Lice: He said Horace Grant’s shlong is 9 inches limp.
Tube: Don’t doubt that for a second. Kerr sounds like a chill guy!
Lice: Just gave him a Community business card.
Tube: Did you know he’s the all-time leader in 3 pt FG Percentage? That’s as pimp as it gets.
Lice: I didn’t. Bartenders are all over him. I’m riding his coattails aaaall night.
Tube: I heard a night out with Steve Kerr usually turns into two weeks of acid/hookers/cocaine/steak dinners. In that order. Bet that will be a fuckin blast.
Lice: Fear and loathing in Dallas with Steve Kerr. Sign me up.

States You Don’t Want To Live In

Above is the only map I refer to when I’m deciding whether to respect a state or not. It breaks down which states sell bronsons/booze on Sundays. I just moved to Georgia — little did I know! They don’t sell jars of hooch for 50% of the weekend. Fuck me.

I’m guessing non-selling states only do so because they have shitty pro football teams (or they don’t give a shit about their team). Either that, or somehow God sent a message down to law-makers saying “Do not sell booze on Sundays! I will not give you a reason why, but please just trust me!” How absurd is this rule? Is it the most bogus law in the history of mankind? I would say yes.

Random Acts of Kindness

How does it feel when someone, seemingly out of left field, goes out of their way to perform a kind deed? If you’re a halfway-decent chum, it probably ignites your inner glow, gets your blood flowing six ways to Sunday, puts a delightful grin on your mug, and stirs up a totally tender frame of mind. Sounds chill as hell, right? That’s why The Community needs to perpetuate this scene with enthusiasm!

Buy your buddy a brew-dog. Help a stranger land some strange. Read your fine neighbor a poem. Hand out beef jerky at intersections. Just pull decent shit out of your ass and put the random act into motion.

Give some ribs and biscuits to your mailman. Sneak some ciggies to the local punk kid. Rub oil all over your aerobics instructor. Fistbump random passersby. Hand out jimmy hats at parties. It’s called being a fuckin bad-ass samaritan — the dirtbag-ass hole antithesis. And the above deeds compose of less than .000001% of potential random acts you can perform — which means it’s time to go town.

In the end, admittedly, you can only control your own approach — but if The Community knows one thing, it’s that kindness is more contagious than dingleberries. By executing random acts of decency, you’re fascilitating a productive, fulfilling future for you and innumerable impending accomplices.

Summer Vacation Notice

Hello Community! I’d like to give notice to our readers that I, Tubesteak, will be taking a decent summer sabbatical over the next few weeks or so. This is not to say I won’t be writing about decency within The Community, but postings will definitely be less frequent. Indeed, summer is finally here.

Among the endeavors I’ll be pursuing in place of writing here:

This is not intended to be a full-fledged hiatus. Who knows — perhaps I’ll miss The Community too much and be back sooner than planned. But ideally I’ll fire up some fun shit once in a while for all your asses while Fugaze and Helmet Head keep this operation afloat. You can rest assured Community — this sabbatical will be strictly focused on practicing decency.

Sam Malone is Our Decent Bastard of the Week

Sam “Mayday” Malone — the epitome of a decent bastard! He was a former Sox pitcher with a nasty slider who owned one of the most renowned bars in history. Being a recovering alcoholic, he still ran Cheers successfully amidst a slew of hard slugging, all-time characters. But more so than anything else, Malone was a legitimate Don Juan — a borderline sex addict — who charmed any and all ladies in the vicinity despite their best efforts to keep his seductive persona at bay.

Make no mistake — Sam Malone was a man’s man, living the dream all dick-owners aspire to. His bar patrons lived vicariously through him and his unprecedented string of female conquests. A seasoned joke teller and a champion ball-buster, this local Boston guy could very well have written the Decent Community Handbook. A DC reader writes in:

“Sam Malone carried a bar, a television show, and most of the male population’s hopes and dreams on his back from 1982 to 1993. (Not to mention all the babes he carried on his johnson!) I was astonished he hadn’t been featured as your Decent Bastard of Week. However, I’m more than confident that after receiving this nomination, he’ll be spotlighted before the Community within minutes.”

I received the email above about 15 minutes ago, and after about five minutes of slamming my head into the wall, I got this post right up. Raise a glass to Sam Malone — a bastard who tagged prudes like Diane Chambers and Rebecca Howe, who pitched five years for the Boston Red Sox, and who was cooler than just about any dude you’ve ever known.

The Walk of Shame

The Community is known for making our wannabe sweethearts perform the walk of shame every morning. It’s partly because we party so much, partly because we get so much play, and partly because we’re just fans of making chicks do the walk of shame.

Think about it — is it not decent to see a foxy broad limping down the street with drool hanging out of her mouth, reeking of booze and cigarettes, makeup smeared all over her face, hair looking like she was just electrocuted, boogers coming out her nose, clothes in tatters, with one boob hanging out? Is that not decent?

When you’re french kissing at incredibly high rates, creatures like the one described above are the norm. We bulldoze down babes with our tongues and when the dust settles there’s only sloppiness in our wake. The walk of shame is the aftershock from Decnt Community’s earthquake of passion.

There’s Nothing More Decent Than a Good Ole’ Fashion Drive-In

drive in

Drive-in movie theaters are fun, yeah?  Yeah they are.

From the heady concession stands to the old school intros and music during the intermission; drive-ins are more than simply nostalgic, they are straight up decent!

Aside from a drive-your-car-to-a-field-in-vehicle-orgy where else can you find a field of young professionals getting intimate in the back of their flat bed pickup trucks, chilling with the top down in their convertibles or reclined in the front seat their Accord?

Pros:  Prices are by the carload so pack ’em in.  You have the option to watch 2 movies at no additional charge.  The comfort and privacy of your own rig.  Beer, wine and/or herb consummation is often permitted as well as cranking heat bags.  Don’t know what cranking a heat bag is?  Email, and we’ll fill you in.

Decent Facts:  The closest drive-in to Boston is in Mendon (40 minute drive).  There’s also one in Welfleet on the Cape.  The Weymouth drive-in was one of the first 5 drive-in theatres in America.  There are also fly-in theatres for small planes.  If your car runs out of batteries staff will often jump your car — free of charge.