Firstly, this site reached it's 10,000th comment tonight. May we all wonder at the tidal wave of comment spam; and those of us in hats, tip them to the new revolution. Well, that and the fact that the 10,000th comment probably belonged to me. Becuase I'm a whore.
Just watched the Joe Rogan Live DVD. Funniest stand-up act I've seen in ages. Literally, maybe the funniest since Chris Rock about seven years ago, or even Louis Black.
Also, I've been reading David Sedaris, specifically Naked. I haven't laughed out loud while reading a book since that Old Testament course freshman year.
Seriously, with this kind of stuff being produced; I really don't see the need for myself or anyone else to blog (with a few exceptions). Most people just don't bring the funny hard enough.
By now I’m sure everyone has seen the pics of that chick on American Idol that found their way on to the Internet. I’ve seen quite a few of them, including the ones of her posing in a bikini on the WWII Monument. In addition to that display of exceptionally poor judgment and taste, there were some other pics, allegedly of her, giving a hummer to someone. And, of course, a shot of her sitting on the toilet.
One of her friends came out to say that the more graphic shots are not really her. I think I even accept that as the truth. But here’s the best part from that article:
"It's the way this town is: Everybody knows everything about their friends," said Mark Dillon, 17. "At least half the people in this town have pictures of their friends on the toilet. I've personally seen at least 20. It's only because she's on TV that they're online."
Well, that sounds like quite a town. Somehow, in my long life, I have never seen shots of any of my friends sitting on the toilet. I was always a pretty popular guy too. Maybe it’s just this one particular town where toilet shots are mandatory. After all, this chap says he’s personally seen twenty of his friends in photos of them sitting on a toilet. And he’s only seventeen. Imagine how many toilet shots he will have seen if he lives a long healthy life in that town. Perhaps I’m missing something. Am I the only one not photographing people on the toilet?
And while I have no idea what type of person this girl is, I do take issue with her posing like a pin-up, in a bikini, on the WWII Monument. That’s just bad taste. Personally, I like chicks in bikinis, but posing on the WWII Monument is pretty insulting to what that monument stands for.
It doesn’t seem to bother some people, however:
"She's this attractive, talented girl who's also intelligent and knows where she wants to go," Reid said. "I consider her a role model for my daughter."
On a related note:
Her first performance on which viewers could vote, a rendition of Aerosmith's "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing," was roundly panned by the judges.
Read it and not be surprised.
The Tennessee Center for Policy Research, an independent, nonprofit and nonpartisan research organization, issued a press release late Monday:
“Last night, Al Gore’s global-warming documentary, An Inconvenient Truth, collected an Oscar for best documentary feature, but the Tennessee Center for Policy Research has found that Gore deserves a gold statue for hypocrisy.
Gore’s mansion, [20-room, eight-bathroom] located in the posh Belle Meade area of Nashville, consumes more electricity every month than the average American household uses in an entire year, according to the Nashville Electric Service (NES).”
This guy consumes more power in a month than most people do all year!
“In his documentary, the former Vice President calls on Americans to conserve energy by reducing electricity consumption at home.
The average household in America consumes 10,656 kilowatt-hours (kWh) per year, according to the Department of Energy. In 2006, Gore devoured nearly 221,000 kWh—more than 20 times the national average.
Last August alone, Gore burned through 22,619 kWh—guzzling more than twice the electricity in one month than an average American family uses in an entire year. As a result of his energy consumption, Gore’s average monthly electric bill topped $1,359.
Since the release of An Inconvenient Truth, Gore’s energy consumption has increased from an average of 16,200 kWh per month in 2005, to 18,400 kWh per month in 2006.
Gore’s extravagant energy use does not stop at his electric bill. Natural gas bills for Gore’s mansion and guest house averaged $1,080 per month last year.
“As the spokesman of choice for the global warming movement, Al Gore has to be willing to walk to walk, not just talk the talk, when it comes to home energy use,” said Tennessee Center for Policy Research President Drew Johnson.
In total, Gore paid nearly $30,000 in combined electricity and natural gas bills for his Nashville estate in 2006.”
What an asshole.
And then there are words that should be altogether dropped from the vernacular. Words and phrases that are passe, lame, or just sound dumb; and only make the speaker seem clueless.
'jumped the shark' - A phrase that has completed a self-fulfilling cycle so fast that the mind reels. I shouldn't even have written it here without censoring it, it's so dumb. From here on out, let's just consider it profanity. We promise not to use it in polite company, and when we have to use it (for reference only, as we do here); asterisks will be used as such: 'j*mp*d the sh*rk'.
'gobsmacking, -ly' - I don't know who came up with this, but I can't possibly imagine what kind of beatdown they recieved from the first person they spoke it to. Seriously, I keep a rusty crowbar in my trunk should someone utter this word. Consider yourselves warned.
'quiche' - Okay firstly, this word looks nothing like it sounds; which is actually a compliment because it sounds like the noise of a frog bursting, were someone to gradually squeeze it in a vise: 'Keesh!' Secondly, quiche is gross.
'stool' - This seems like an odd word to find here, no? Well, I'm only referring to a particular use here. When people refer to crap, turds, feces, shit, dung, guano, poop, number two, caca, or Carrot Top as 'stool'; it's irksome. With all the other great variants for crap, turds, feces, shit, dung, guano, poop, number two, caca, or Carrot Top; why use the word stool? I'll tell you why, because they want to use a word without any vulgarity attached to it. Look people! It's shit, shit's vulgar!
'panties' - Now, this might just be a me thing here, but this word sounds awkward out loud. Say it: panties. It just, I don't know. When I hear myself say it, it sounds like something a pussy might say. "Oh, my panties!"
I’ve done very little sailing in my day, but I’m a huge fan of nautical terminology. I’ve decided to start using some nautical terms at every opportunity.
Some of my favorites:
Yaw
Scuppers
Gunwale
Belay
Abeam
Thwartships
And of course, my favorite: Coxswain.
I encourage everyone to throw the word coxswain into as many conversations as possible, especially in the workplace. I believe the correct pronunciation is “Cox’n” but the phonetic pronunciation works well too.
It's one of those days where I'd rather be at home. That being said (which...really has nothing to do with anything), I give you a list of great words and phrases. What makes them great? I don't know. Nothing, and the fact that I think they're nice sounding.
Bonkers - great word. "It was cool until the guy with the tattoo on his neck called Dave's mom a cornerstore hooker. Dave just went fucking bonkers on him."
Milli-fuckit - "The above statement outrageously overstates America's give-a-shit factor when it comes to those two (it's measured in mille-fuckits). "
Hoisted by his own petard - A petard was an explosive device slung over a gate or wall, back in the day (back in the day is industry lingo for 'the 19th century'). Sometimes, if the guy lighting the petard wasn't paying attention, he'd get caught in the rigging, slung over the gate/wall, and subsequently blown to bits. Now people use it instead of saying overused shit like "shot himself in the foot", "fucked himself", or "fucked himself in his own ass".
Got any other suggestions???
It was a fair enough question.
“You are, without a doubt, the most critical person I have ever met,” my wife continued.
“You criticize everything and everyone.”
“It’s not always negative,” I replied. “I simply call them as I see them.”
We were watching American Idol and when one of the cheeseballs started singing I said that he sucked.
“How could you judge him so fast? He just opened his mouth…it couldn’t have been more than one or two seconds!”
“I set the bar very high—for other people.”
It may have been the best line I’d ever used.
My only question is, does this mean we're going to have to go over there and save their country for them again? Seriously, even French bees get their asses handed to them on the regular?
Also, notice the global warming plug. It's apparently become a standard feature in journalism; up there with a byline and title. Getting hot? Global warming! Getting cold? Global warming! French honey bees getting eaten by other bees? Global warming!
I mean, if that's the way it's going to be; I suppose I can handle that. I just want to make sure that it's an excuse that I'll be able to use in the future as well. Forgot the anniversary? Global warming! Got drunk and made an ass of yourself? Global warming! Not productive at work? Global warming!
I've never liked libraries. Not the actual idea (a place with books), but what they are. I have lots of books at home, hell; we're this close to having to stack them on the floor because we're running out of bookcases. And that includes the one we built out of scrapwood and spare screws.
But libraries suck. Firstly, they're way too quiet. Without any soft background noise, all I hear is the other people in the room. They're sniffling, coughing, shuffling in their coats, having low conversations with the other homeless people, etc.
Secondly, there's just too goddamn much there. Go to Amazon.com, search the book you want to read, and buy it for three and a half fucking dollars. Why spend your time to go poring through some freakin library looking for a book? If you're going to spend the time to read the damn thing, just pay three bucks and take some real time to indulge yourself in it. If it sucks, Amazon.com. If it's good, stack it on the floor with the rest of your collection.
Thirdly, very few libraries contain any information that can't be found online; in the comfort of your own home. Yeah, maybe The Library of Congress has the Constitution, the Declaration, the Bill of Rights; but seriously, how many times have they been reproduced - word for word? Libraries are useless unless you're looking for a really voyeuristic place to slam ham. Yeah, I just said 'slam ham'.
I know. Some people will claim that libraries contain lots of locally specific information. I call BS, becuase they won't carry it unless they buy the rights to some smalltime exhibit of the month. "'Early Black Folk', showing Feb 1 - Feb 28th"; "'The History of the (your local county here) Shellfishing Industry', showing the first week of all months ending in R". Locally specific public records (births, deaths, census, etc) can be found in all kinds of other places. Obviously online, but also at courthouses and county seats. Hell, when we applied for our marriage license, I was so busy poring over the segregated birth logs that I damn near missed the whole "Put your hand on The Book" thing.
The only reason libraries still exist, is because we've got all this goddamned microfiche and we can't figure out how to turn it into ones and zeroes.
As far as I'm concerned*, this is one of the best songs ever written. Not because it's musically groundbreaking, which it isn't; but because it's the definition of what a song is. If I ever adopted a life-changing work ethic and went back to school, I'd get an advanced degree in music history and write my thesis on this song alone. Unfortunately, there aren't enough stimulants in the world to keep me awake through a single music history class; let alone enter a library and do actual...research. Libraries give me the vertigo. No, it's worse than that. They give me a small dick complex. I hate libraries. More on that later.
Just check out the Wikipedia thread the music geeks have put together on this song. I love the three or four warnings at the top too. No shit it's unsubstantiated blathering, that's what analysis is!
At any rate, it's an awesome song, in the true tradition of song-writing; for what it's worth.**
People who put two spaces after a period.
That’s from the caveman days, people. In the days of typeset printing and typewriters you needed two spaces because the fonts were non-proportional. Nowadays, most fonts are indeed proportional (except maybe Courier). That extra space is useless.
Please stop now.
There's one bus driver on my route from the commuter lot to my stop who insists on playing contemporary Christian tunes. Jesus freaks don't neccesarily bother me or anything; it's just that their music...well, it sucks.
It was this dude softly singing, in this moderately high (and decidedly wimpy) tone; backed up by some generic soft rock-ish band. Not surprising. Being a resident of the Bible Belt, I've been exposed to a decent range (to use the term loosely) of contemporary Christian music; and it's all the same. Musically non-descript and (ironically) devoid of inspiration; this genre is similar to pop in that it's not created out of a love for music or artistic expression. That's what makes it so bland. I've heard a few good bands, but they only sounded good because they were imitating the sound of a more mainstream artist/band.
However, since I was locked inside a moving vehicle this morning, silently enduring the sounds of mediocrity; I decided to listen to the words. I almost burst out laughing. Here's this singer, in near falsetto, repeating the following chorus:
God Cooooome, God Cooooome, God Cooooome...
I smirked on the inside, and continued to listened to the verses.
...I can feel you inside of me...
Wait. Do what?
...Fill me up with your warmth...
Oh come on. I hope I wasn't laughing out loud at this point; because I was either listening to a seriously warped closet case elicit his cry for help, or this band was purposefully trying to mess with people's minds.
The moaning lyrics, about being touched by the spirit/bathed in white/etc with regular returns to the choral plea for God to cooooome; continued nearly the entire ride. Funny, yes. But also disturbing. I mean, I kept picturing people singing along with this kind of stuff, like; what's going through your head when you sing the words "I can feel you inside of me, fill me up with your spirit"? Seriously, if Christina Aguilera was singing that song, the MPAA or Mothers Against Filthy Sluts or somebody would be smashing CD's in the street.
Britney Spears shaved her head.
Seriously, like we didn't see this one coming. Afterall, she's a middle child; and as such is predisposed to being an avid attention whore. So let's all gawk and stare at the crazy person.
5 to 1 her next album sells in packs of 15 as commemorative coasters. Takers?
No matter where I go I am assaulted by media reports regarding Anna Nicole Smith.
First off, I barely know who the hell she is. I think she’s some broad who married a 90 year old man, obviously for the checkbook. That’s about the extent of my knowledge. But judging by the media you’d think she split the fucking atom. Everywhere I turn it’s nothing but news about this woman. Does anyone give a shit?
Please stop the madness.
Well, having made quite a run at the career thing in the recent years, I think I'm beginning to feel the sluggish effects of burnout. Well, I'm not sure if it's burnout or not, but I've recently gotten some acute feelings of frustration with the current system.
I've been doing project management all day everyday for a couple of years now, and it's beginning to lose its luster. The easy projects have become kind of boring (even though success is nice), and the larger projects have become tiresome even though they're not challenging. It's kind of like addition. We've all pretty much mastered addition, and if your job was to add; you'd find adding two numbers together all day to be intensely boring, and you'd find adding two hundred numbers together tiresome.
Current events have also further exacerbated my corporate malaise. The other day, someone two rungs above me on the ladder left the organization. My mentor, on the rung above mine, is moving into the position in the interim, with the clearly communicated goal of taking the position on full time. The upshot for me would be that should he get this new job, I'd probably have a decent shot at his old one. He and I have a very similar skillset, progression, and background. It'd be nice, because it would throw other tasks in with the project management. I'd still have some of the larger projects, but some of the piddly stuff would be left behind, and I'd get a helping of people management on my plate. I know, everyone bitches about people management; but it's something I need to get under my belt and it's a welcome change of pace. Besides, contrary to what evidence might be on this site, I'm actually pretty good at it.
However, it seems a monkey wrench has been thrown. My old mentor told me this morning that someone's already been shadowing him, learning his job. To make matters even more irritating, this person has only been here six months (as an intern-type position, no less), making this his very first job. The scuttlebutt is that he's somehow put himself in the good graces of the CEO, but scuttlebutt and a dollar might get you a cup of coffee. Even if it's true, acknowledging it in public will only mark you as a fool. To say the least, it's a hard pill to swallow; that someone with less experience has been plucked from obscurity to cut me out of the loop, possibly taking a position with more responsibility (and of course, pay) than my own. It seems like I'm about to get leap-frogged by a nepotist (nepotee?).
I'm meeting with my VP tomorrow, and I'm trying to collect my thoughts on this. I want to communicate my desire to take over some of the duties, but I think I'm going to play stupid on knowing who the shadow is, or that there's even any going on. Mostly because I pretty much always tend to play close to the vest when it comes to this stuff; but also because I've only been under this VP for a few months, and I'm unsure if I am trying to be kept here. I'll just explain the similarities between myself and my mentor, the need for variety in my workload, and a few of the other aspects that make me a logical fit. I'm assuming the Veep can't smell this coming, so the more clearly I think the conversation through, the more leverage I'll have when the time comes.
Anyone have any experience with this??
Ladies and gentlemen, Jim Treacher. New site, same old funny. Now go vote.
Glen Reynolds points to a Zogby poll of movie goers, well technically I suppose it's a poll of people who don't go to movies. At any rate, the poll says most people think the cost is too high, and the material stinks; without ever mentioning comfort or audiovisual quality. IMO, the entire survey is missing the boat.
I'd be willing to bet, if polled correctly, the vast majority of people would tell you that both image and sound quality are better at home than at a movie theater; and for a fraction of the cost! Not to mention the fact that I don't have to get gouged at the snack counter, or that I can drink a beer or two if I want, or that reclining on my couch is immensely more comfortable than one of those folding theater chairs, or that I can pause and rewind if I feel the need.
And the theaters can't figure out why people aren't buying seven to ten dollar tickets for an obviously lower quality product than the one they can get at home?
... You're pretty sure the shit has hit the fan when:
You find yourself reading Marcus Aurelius...
It seems like maybe now is the time to sell the house and buy a Ferrari...
Sometimes you come home from work and want to hide in the bushes, waiting to ambush your mailman and slit his throat, the late sonofabitch...
You have to choose between RUDY FUCKING GIULIANI and HILLARY FUCKING CLINTON in a presidential election straw poll...
You can no longer trust a single media outlet. Not that such a circumstance is scary to you (because you're intelligent enough to know what's right) but because everyone else is too goddamn moronic to think about shit on their own...
Everyone just read the above sentance and agreed...
I gotta tell you, I’m just not buying it.
So, for the second time in approximately a week, I almost burned the house down. And once again, it happened while I was left at home unsupervised. Well, Dad was there, but he's about as much help in the kitchen as a Yugo at a tractor pull.
The Wife was finishing her day shift down at the bar, and the old man and I were at the house preparing the compulsory Super Bowl fare: homemade potato chips, black bean salsa, and Buffalo wings. The Wife was born and raised in Buffalo, so the wings (and football) are a pretty big deal around here. Dad worked on the salsa while I deep fried the thinly sliced potatoes. We were moving along at a pretty good clip for a spaz and a kitchen-illiterate widower, so I decided to start the wings. I mean, I figured The Wife would think it considerate of me that I went ahead and started the wings, instead of waiting for her to get home from work and do it. I'd seen her do it countless times before, and had gotten a general recipe from her over the phone; so I figured I was all set. So the old man finished the salsa and went to watch the beginning of the game while I took care of the wings.
I let the fryer heat back up, and when ready, I plopped about ten wings into it. The damn thing promptly started foaming and spitting like a jungle cat. Within a second or two, the sound was deafening and boiling oil was flowing steadily out of the kettle, all over the counter, and onto the floor. "Dad. Dad! DAD I NEED SOME HELP!" Luckily, deep friers are made with morons in mind; and come equipped with magnetic power cords that can be unplugged easily. I snatched the cord out of the socket, and the crackling died down considerably. We both kind of stood there, absorbing the absolute mess. It took us most of a half hour to clean the oil off of everything.
Upon returning home and hearing our tale, The Wife gave me a frightened look. "Can you imagine what this place is going to be like when we have kids? Should we even have kids at all!?"
"Well, yeah we should have kids. I mean, I don't think I could bear telling people we had to hire a babysitter just for me!"
