Wednesday, November 5, 2008

New Era

As this monumental day concludes the United States enters a new era...

The double cheeseburger is no longer on the dollar menu. God help us all.

Friday, October 31, 2008

Off Limit Costumes

It's Halloween. The one day girls are allowed to dress like absolute sluts and they can get away with. The beauty, of course, is that next to every costume can be slutitized. Slutty nurse, slutty bunny, slutty Pocahontas, slutty lobster, and even slutty 18th century Victorian age feminist poet.

Because I enjoy hard-ons I let all these costumes fly including the most cliche and lame Halloween costume of all time: girl being Tom Cruise from Risky Business. Its so easy. A button up shirt. Some shades. Some underwear. Lame but slutty so I let it slide.

But this year I expect another costume to be in the top ten and I am not pleased:

Unacceptable. I know its fucking easy. Sunny D. A hoodie, skirt, and pillow. But it's totally cliche, and unlike Risky Business. Not at all slutty. That's like the only rule. You can't break it. Only ugly chicks are allowed to dress up non slutty but they can't pull off Juno cuz how are we supposed to know they're pregnant? So its off limits.

If you're still stumped here are some more suggestions: slutty postal worker, extra slutty cheerleader, slutty slut(warning: this involves lugging around a mattress all night).

You can't be Uma Thurman from Kill Bill. You can be slutty nurse with eye patch though.

You can go as Sara Jessica Parker from Sex and the City but you'd have to make your face look like a foot. Maybe the hot one instead. Whatever her name is.

You can't go as Hermione from Harry Potter 1-5. But you can go as Hermione from Harry Potter 6 and 7, once her and Harry start to get it on(or is it with the red headed kid? fuck if i know).

Old woman. No. Cat Woman. Yes. Cleopatra from the movies. No. Cleopatra from real life(nips flailing). Yes. Geisha. No. Prostitute. Yes. Queen Elizabeth I. Hell no. Any other slutty queen in human history? Definitely. A mom? No. What about Dimmy's mom? Still no...You can't pull it off. Natalie Portman Star wars. Never. Natalie Portman Closer. Always.

Email me if you still need to know if you have reached the minimum stutness quota with a photograph.

Moron Convention(One last political blog before the election)

Back when I was a kid, not too long ago, and I knew nothing of politics. Back before I knew what GOP stood for. My understanding of the American two party system was based/consisted completely on an age old stereotype: if your parents are rich they’re voting republican. If they’re poor then democrat. Simple as that. As I aged I realized some of the exceptions to this rule.

Joe the plumber who votes republican because of his American dream disillusionment. He’s been pumping shit his whole life and he’ll be damned if those shit throwing welfare porch monkeys get any of his money once he invents a new toilet that will bank him millions. The toilet? Standard but with two openings for either multi hole expunging ie vomiting and defecating simultaneously after say a wild night at Betsy’s Women and Chicken Breasts. Or for the emergency that arises when the Diabeteez family returns from endless egg roll night at Pu Pu Kitchen. In between the two openings an upside down urinal ideal for those problematic mornings for males when your pajama pants seem to be a step ahead of you because of a protrusion directly below the waist. A great concept Joe. Unfortunately your diploma says “Summa Cum Flusha” and it’s written in Crayola.

Joining Joe on ballot decisions is Mrs. found again Christian who’d rather see both kids die in the desert than be able to fall in love with other boys and live. Rounding out the group are a few intelligent middle classers who respect the constitution and see how big government can solve problems initially but lead to catastrophe down the road.

On the flip side we have Brangelina who are so damn rich they could care less about the millions the democrats will take from them. Then there’s some big business that knows that republicans love big business but especially love big business that has ties to their party. Historically these corporations have had some ethical missteps to say the least.

But ultimately stereotypes have a basis in something and ultimately the two party system’s most prominent divide was economical. Until Bush that is. Bush is so damn radical he isolated the rest of the GOP. No one wants war. No one wants economic collapse. His only pick up was the religious right that his father could never quite pocket, but junior perfected by praising Jesus.

Now McCain has a problem. A recent poll showed that 4 out of 5 attorneys and 3 of 4 bankers are now registered democrat. Wow. How does the party of tax cuts and no market regulations lose wall street? That takes some serious skill. Only the countries worst president ever could pull that off. But what does this mean for the party in the coming election? If economy still ruled and the rich all voted the same the nomination would have went to Romney. If old school constitutionalism/no regulation still was a decider Ron Paul wouldn’t be forgotten. If religion was the big factor Huckabee would be preaching at the debates. Instead American Republicans chose McCain.

But McCain doesn’t control the religious freaks like his potential predecessor. He alienates moderates with his cries for war. If economy can’t split the nation what can? Bush not only answers the question he is the answer. Morons. Morons are the key. Unfortunately McCain and his advisors know it. The new two party divide is intelligence and geography which unfortunately turn out to be drastically linked.

Rallying the idiotas is a two part game plan. Both are in full effect already. Step one is start a hate campaign. Vote for me just to stick it to that liberal elitist douche nozzle Barack Obama. He looks down on all you small time folk with his east coast ideals and dangerous intellect(I know. It’s almost an oxymoron isn’t it?). Giuliani, propelled by 9-11, still failed miserably to win the nomination. Reason? He’s ridden an elevator before. Fucking prick. So McCain’s strategy becomes clear. Vote for me because my opponent is smarter than I am. Sounds stupid doesn’t it? Unfortunately it’s genius.

Step two is of course to appeal to morons. This step came real easy. Appoint Sara Palin as vice presidential nominee. Boom. Done. Fat moms around the country who have never touched the newspaper or glanced a book cover without the words “Oprah” or “You Can Be Thin” now serve Palin casserole in the home on Tuesdays. Recipe: mix cooked chicken, green beans, cream of mushroom, and macaroni in a casserole dish. Then set oven to you’re a fucking dumbass, I hope you choke on this and die. And their dead beat husbands watch the debates for the first time ever with a box of tissue and lotion in hand spewing a “she’s purtay” every time Palin farts out another “Gosh Darnit” or “Yew Betcha.”

So Palin fits the bill perfectly. Of course she doesn’t believe in evolution. She doesn’t even know where babies come from. But McCain has to mold himself again to fit this image (which isn’t a problem for him historically : I resent bush, I support bush, no wait I’m a maverick in his department, etc.). So what we end up with is a Connecticut rich boy with the deepest strings who married super rich trying to pass as America’s everyman despite his tax cuts planned for the rich and privatized health care. How can this work? Don’t you remember? They’re pleading to morons. Morons. And only morons.

So what’s going to happen in November? It’s hard to say. We can’t really turn to history because Bush’s stupidity and McCain’s exploitation of that have brought us into unprecedented grounds. Bush senior was far more moderate than his son. He vowed no new taxes but faced the music and went back on his word. It cost the republicans the next election but the economic split was intact. Reagan, the face of the GOP, was a polar opposite to the party’s new image. He was a Midwestern raised everyman and he appealed to the east coast intellect and even brought Hollywood and the west coast along affirming an identity with the entire nation. Everyone liked him except the poor and the rich loved him.

You have to go way back. Back to Nixon to see a strategy like this new GOP plan in effect. Nixon was the king of the resentment campaign and smear tactics. He split the nation by harvesting resentment against the elite. Well. Nixon worked out great.

Let’s turn to present evidence to see if this intellectual/geographical grouping will succeed. Fortunately there are a lot of people on the coasts. In the cities. That’s why we call them cities, right? Or you may say. Hey. There are a lot of smart people in America. They don’t want a longer war or offshore drilling. However, those small towns add up and a plethora are going to fall for this “Alaska is one big small town and so should America” shit. And there are a lot of morons. A lot.

We live in a country were the literacy rate is over 90% but the average amount of books read by high school students in high school is 1.2 once Harry Potter is omitted from the equation. Where many cannot find Iraq on a map. Some can’t point to China on a map without country names. A place where given a watch and a bus schedule about half of the adults cannot determine how much longer they have to wait. A place where 9 out of 10 people cannot solve a polynomial equation. Where people cannot multiply two digit numbers. I believe that those that fail this requirement in Japan are flogged with bamboo a system I strongly encourage we adopt. Where next to no one knows who Dennis Hastert is even when he was the speaker. A place where viewers can play along and be stumped by Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader. A place that created Flavor of Love. A place where fat people sue McDonalds because they got fat from eating it every day. And a place where these fat people win. A place were grade grubbing and social maneuvering get you into colleges as opposed to knowledge. And were making money supersedes all lateral thinking because, hey, you gotta buy gas and healthcare. A place where 97% of teenage girls list shopping as their favorite thing to do.

We are the undisputed unhealthiest and most unintelligent first world country in the world. If you’ve reached this point you have more or less read an entire “article” and are probably not of this American majority I speak of. But for every you there are 10 others that see four paragraphs with no picture in sight and speed over to their bookmarks and click where they will spend the next two hours watching various animals defecate and rednecks that they’ve convinced themselves distinct from injure themselves. Or caption glazing the new Cosmo to find out if Zach Efron and that stupid Nutregena bitch are hooking up.

If half these people are sober enough to drive and there isn’t a midnight sale at Wallmart the day of the election then we may be in for a world of trouble because McCain has an amazing new campaign message. “You’d have to be a moron to vote for me.” That might just do the trick.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

You know your dad grew up in a soviet occupied country(Continued)...

If on three day weekends instead of relaxing along with the rest of the nation your dad goes to Home Depot and single handedly brings their stock prices up for that quarter.

If even when you help your dad out with something he still calls you a lazy American. For instance, if you help him carry a three hundred pound grill across the yard and up the stairs the first thing you hear after putting it down and gasping your bruised hands is “Why you make me carry 90% of it? You only carry 10%.” As if those numbers had any significance or if that was even physically possible.

If your dad never answers a question with “I don’t know.” For instance, if I ask just about anyone what the population of Madagascar is their response is of course “I don’t know” or maybe “A couple of million? I guess.” My dad would say “One million three hundred and forty six thousand eight hundred and twelve. No wait…Two people just died.” For a second you believe he personally counts everyone there twice a day, but then you look it up on the internet and he’s of by a factor of ten. “Oh. Madagascar. I thought you meant Ethiopia.” So you look that population up. Off by factor of twenty and so on…

If your friends have ever come over and reminded you that you had air conditioning. “Man. You’re right. It’s just been so long.” You turn it on, and then your dad walks by and sets it to 108 because the dial doesn’t go higher.

If on Halloween five year olds run from your house screaming because your dad jumps out of a bush and scares them, but he’s not wearing any form of a costume or holding candy so they naturally assume he’s a serial rapist. Then he comes into the house beaming about his accomplishment as if the point of the holiday was to scar small children for life. “I love howla-veen!”

If your costume for Halloween was ever a sheet with two holes cut out for your eyes. And the sheet was brown with blue patches. “Who say ghost white? How they know nothing?” Then at the end of the night you sleep with that sheet until next October.

If when arguing your curfew in high school your dad’s argument was ever…”Sun come up. Time to wake up. Sun go down. Time to go to bed.” You ask him if in between you should tend to the crops. Instead of picking up on the sarcasm your dad thinks that you finally understand the meaning of life.

If your dad’s ever chugged a jar of pickle juice after all the pickles were gone. “No let just waste.”

If your dad has no concept of age or time. He’s telling you about having to run fifteen miles every day to boxing class. He says he had to sprint because practice started 15 minutes after school. And you made it in time? “Every day.” You ignore this flagrant lie and ask him how old he was. “Let me think. I quite soccer when I was two. So probably two and half. Three.” You roll your eyes. “YOU CALLING ME A LIAR?!?!!?”

If you ask whether you can order pizza and he says “Your mom is making squash with squash filling and squash sauce.” His favorite of course.

If you just got out of a three hour morning practice with dry land afterward. All you want to do is go to McDonald’s with all the rest of the kids. Your dad assures you he can make a way better breakfast with omelets and bacon within five minutes of stepping through the door. You get home. There’s one egg and no bacon in the fridge. So you have some squash.

If your dad cooks soup in a twelve gallon cauldron and you have to eat leftovers for a quarter of a decade.

If while cooking in the kitchen your dad listens to medieval folk music in the native tongue about the kings and queens of yester yore. Periodically he wipes the tears from his eyes. All you want to do is laugh, but you remember that last time you did he beat you with a stick.

If your dad had a name for the stick that he beat you with as to better verbally threaten you with.

If you’ve never been sent to your room by your dad. Only chased into your room.

If you open your presents on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas Day you may just be from one of many European nations.  However, if you get an old science kit from a garage sale with all the cool shit missing as a present and your dad gets a rusty shovel that he is absolutely ecstatic about it…now you’re definitely from an old soviet occupied land.    

If you ever brought odd shaped sticks and large pine cones home from vacation because they were your only toys.

If you’ve ever gotten first in a swim race and your dad points out how slow your flip turn was.   

If you’ve ever complained about a pain or ailment only to be told by your father that your suffering is a result of you being a bad boy the other day. The next day you’re in the hospital.

If your dad’s not a truck driver but has reached the million miles traveled mark by dragging you and your brother to every national park in America. Also this million miles is broken up between only two cars. Neither with a radio or air conditioning. 

If you’ve slept in a tent in 40 out of the 50 states and slept in a hotel in just 2 of them.

If your dad has ever asked if he can borrow a Speedo. And this happened whenyou were nine.

If your dad has never once said the following, “I’m tired. I just want to sit here for a second.”

If your dad owns a pair of shorts that if worn by a fifteen year old girl to high school would result in a dress code violation.

If your dad types with his two middle fingers and tilts his head up a full 120 degrees to peer through the bottoms of his bifocals at the monitor. The aforementioned results in an approximate typing speed of six words ever half hour or 0.2 words a minute.

If your dad’s explanation of all teenage and young adult behavior is an attempt at coolness. For instance, if I tell him a friend crashed their car into a tree and broke two ribs he’ll of course say “He was just trying to be cool.” Oh. Okay. Now I get it.

If the only song your dad can name that came out after 1968 is “We Are The Champions” and he doesn’t know Queen does it or who Queen is.

If your dad’s never listened to any radio station other than NPR or watched a channel other than CNN unless there was a Clint Eastwood movie on TBS or TNT.   

If your dad’s ever used the phrase, “No. No is good no.”

If you’ve ever had to last the entire day at the arcade on your birthday with one dollar and seventy five cents that you had to share with your brother. When you beg your dad for just a little more he hands you each one more quarter with a facial expression equivalent to someone that just gave away both their kidneys. When you ask him if you and your friends can get a pizza for lunch he almost breaks a rib laughing.

If you’ve ever asked your dad for help and he says “You’re going on fifteen, Ivor, and you need help with this? Come on.” My name is Siggi, and I’m turning six next April. “Okay....But just this once.”

If you tell people you and your brother’s names and they laugh hysterically.

If your dad ever tried to water down theSprite like you wouldn’t notice. Oh and if he calls the aforementioned beverage “Shpreetay.”

If you’ve ever gotten shoes with carpet on the inside of them. When you ask your dad what dumpster he found these in he points to a swoosh he’s clearly drawn on the side of the fugli ass thing with a permanent marker and says “Kneekay. These are Kneekays.”


Thursday, July 3, 2008

Please Don't Make Me Move To Europe(election 08)

Anyone who reads this blog knows not to expect to absorb any useful information whatsoever. It could not be more of a joke in fact. There are no serious articles. But brace yourself because there's some shit about this effing election I just need to get off my chest.

First off, I want to say that I barely follow election news. I find it impossible to do so because none of this matters. Who cares what someone's stance on gay marriage is? Who cares who their reverend was? Here's a question for the debates: are you going to single handedly ruin America and much of the world if elected? That's what they should have asked Bush. He got elected on social issues and all the usual conservative crap. Thanks again Bible Belt. I hope you all die. But what's happened in the world of social issues? Nothing. That's what. Bush's real motivation has always been a desperate attempt to step out of his father's shadow. An obsession with creating a legacy regardless of it was through heroism or by way of infamy. His weapon to do so: a realist politick neo-con agenda whose first and only step is to find someone to wage war on. Mission accomplished indeed. Who cares what his view on the economy is? If we weren't in a 7 year war with Iraq we could have schools made of gold, personal doctors for everyone, and fucking flying cars that run on root beer and emit only deliciousness. You think this is hyperbole but 60 cents of every tax dollar goes into the military. That's like a googleplex of money. Wecould be driving plastic cars on Mars by now. You give me a googleplex of money and I can't cure cancer then you can beat me with a stick.

Either way. None of what Bush would do was even hinted at during the primaries and election. Spreading democracy and freedom came about much later, but it was always on his mind as an excuse to achieve his imperialist goals. Some realist political scripture says to take while you can. Take over the oil of the Middle East before others have a chance. Of course, all that backfired. But are we getting any apologies? This is what I did notice during the election; that he was a man that wouldn't take the blame for anything he did wrong. That alone was enough to give me an idea of the type of president he would be.

Now its 2008, and the same shit is going on. Blankety blank may lose votes because of his statement yesterday. What did he mean by "those people?" He better apologize to the public if he wants to win. WHO. GIVES. A. SHIT!!??!!? Are these really the details we should be getting hung up on? I like to focus on the big picture. And this election I don't even have to think about who I like more.

Who cares if Obama said this and that? If his wife took a piss standing up 30 years ago? I don't even care about his health care plan. Or his agenda for the economy. He promises all this change he can't deliver. Yeah, that's called politics. But he is very stern on one change. The only one that really matters to me.  He wants to end the war. Period. Once we do that we're already headed in the right direction of fixing everything: the economy, health care, etc. Even if he goes into a coma for the rest of his time in office at least we're not losing a trillion dollars a second. Good enough for me. Second. Over night America's image worldwide changes. If the world got to vote for our next president it would be Obama 6 billion and McCain that quarter of the United States that thinks Jesus is coming and or thinks war is another opportunity to shoot some guns. McCain insists that Obama doesn't have enough experience to defend our nation from the "terrors" of the world. Well, he defends us from ourselves, gandpa. If Obama gets elected the world waits to see what he does next. If McCain gets inaugurated they'll be a line at Terrorism-R-US around the block. Radical Islam attendance rates at flight schools will quadruple and every country in the UN will pull out their emergency "OMG AMERICA DID IT AGAIN WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO NOW THERES GONNA BE A WWIII" brochure.     

Allow me to elaborate on my view of McCain. It's not like I even have to think to pinpoint this man. He couldn't make his motives more clear. Reasons not to vote for McCain:

  1. He's like a third as old as the country itself. They don't let 73 year old men manage Denny's so why let him lead our country?
  2. Four years ago I bit my lip when people(left and right) collectively praised the man. He's moderate. He's a straight shooter. All that has now gone to shit. He's back to hugging the far right. Pro choice? Never! Gay marriage? Never! Tax cuts for the rich? Always! Health care? Only if you can afford completive prices. But all of this is I can forgive on account of electioneering. Bush proved that the right just needs religious morons to win any election. But then McCain said that his favorite author was Joel Osteen. Now you've crossed the line my friend. You want evangelist support? Tell them that you change your mind. Stem cell research is the devil's doing. Tell them you'll outlaw being gay in general. You want gay sex? Get it in jail! The Jesus freaks would love that, and I would be slightly less offended by that than the praising of Joel Osteen. Out of all the low life cock suckers between sea and shining sea you couldn't have picked anyone else but that cult leading man whore who uses the crucifix to plunge his toilet and hundred dollar bills to wipe his ass? There’s false promises. Then there’s electioneering. Then there’s flat out lying. And then there’s siding with the mother fucking Anti Christ. Saying ‘moderate McCain’ at this point is like saying ‘preventable accident’ or ‘hippie culture.’ They’re god damn oxymorons.
  3. Despite McCain’s abandonment of all his principals and morals. Despite his nose now being brown from licking corporate taint the conservatives are still keeping their space(the sane ones at least). This is because even 5 years ago when McCain was still “moderate” he was still ultra right wing on one issue: war and the global balance. McCain’s foreign ideas make Mussolini look like a pussy and Hitler under ambitious. McCain is convinced that if we don’t invade the entire world they’ll put him back in cell where his only source of hydration will be UN leaders coming by to piss on his face. McCain is one of a kind. A battered old soldier that was captured as soon as his boots hit the jungle. While the rest of the troops at Vietnam like oh I don’t know Kerry and Clark were sitting in ditches thinking what the fuck are we doing here? This war makes less sense every day as our enemies become blurrier and more theoretical. McCain was in a wooden cage with faces all around him that he could put to the enemy.

The vets came back angry at America. McCain came back angry at the world. Thirty years later, it seems nothings changed. He wanted to nuke China after Vietnam. To throw elbows with Russia during the cold war. In 2008 he still wants to invade Russia. Fighting wars against communism because of the possibility that it might spread was one of the worst mistakes this country ever made. McCain wants to start wars to give late spankings to the countries that used to be communist decades ago. He also wants to stay in Iraq until we win, which is a different way of saying forever. If we stayed in Vietnam until we “won” McCain would still be in a wooden cage in Laos.

Bush’s front for the war was to spread democracy. This is a funny concept because we went to war to stop the spread of communism. Now we’re going to war to spread democracy. But like I said, this is a front. His real reasons are just theories but of course someone somewhere is getting rich(the Federal Bank). McCain’s front is also to spread democracy and because we have to finish what we started. Why don’t you finish one of your heart attacks then you douche and just die. His real motives are far scarier than financial. McCain wants troops in Iraq so that they can be easily dispersed to the rest of the Middle East. Then we can take Europe and Asia slowly, and as we all know once you have those three locked its impossible to lose any game of Risk even if you roll all ones for the rest of the game. And yes. McCain’s foreign policy is literally a board game in his head. And yes. If he’s elected and the “dice” land the wrong way a lot of people are going to die.

He criticizes Obama for his willingness to have talks with our “enemies.” If McCain wins everyone will be an enemy. We won’t have anyone to talk to. You decide what’s better.

So I’m begging soccer moms to put their concerns over the education system and parental advisory labels to the side. Jesus freaks. Just stop thinking about how to get intelligent design taught at schools for a second(you can continue feeding lies to your kids at home schooling). The rich: set aside your concerns about whether after taxes you’ll be filthy rich or just disgustingly rich. The gays: you’re already together. Marriage can wait a few more years. Everyone just forget about all this stuff and look around until you find a male between the ages of 18 and 35. Then think to yourself. Do you want that man to have his legs blown off by a hand grenade? No? Then don’t vote for McCain. The rest of the world will thank you for it, and I won't have to move to Europe.     



Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Take It Up the Gass Bill

I've had my fair share of stupidity dealing with over the phone customer service lines(see any other journal entry basically), but my recent stint with National Grid formerly Keyspan formerly Mega Douche Nozzle Inc. formerly the Catholic Church has to take the cake for most frustrating ever.

I get my last bill and by some miracle notice a caption at the very bottom along the lines of "btw. we're shutting your gas off. enjoy." Here's the story. I pay the bills online. For some reason one didn't go through and instead of notifying you and letting you try again National Grid has a far superior policy. They put a hold on your account so that you can't pay online or over the phone. You owe us money but don't even try giving it to us you bastard. Oh, and also, they don't tell you any of this. So your monitor keeps telling you "thanks for your payment" and six months down the road you get a bill that says "enjoy not having gas mother fucker!" Awesome.

So I call these morons. Here's the conversation:

Me: I need to pay my bill. My online payments don't seem to be going through.
Asshole: Yeah, theres a hold on your account for online payments. We're shutting you off tomorrow.
Me: Tomorrow? I just got a notice yesterday. You wanna like call or send an email or something out of courtesy?
Asshole: Our other customers don't seem to have a problem paying their bills.
Me: That's nice. Well I'm here now. Why don't I give you my credit card number and we can just be on our way.
Asshole: We don't accept credit or debit cards. Only checks.
Me: I got one right here. I'll read you the account number.
Asshole: Because of the hold on your account you can't do that.
Me: So...Can I mail you one?
Asshole: No. Plus it wouldn't get here in time. We're shutting you off tomorrow.
Me: So you only accept checks but I can't pay with a check? I'm confused. Do you want my money or not?
Asshole: If you don't want us to shut off your gas we need a payment.
Me: Yeah...You see...That's what I'm trying to do. Other than driving to your headquarters in Indiana and sliding cash under your door I don't understand what my options are.
Asshole: You can go to a pay center.
Me: What the hell is a pay center?
Asshole: There's one at the Super 88. Call back with a receipt number.
Me: The Chinese market? What the hell do they have to do with this?
Asshole: They're a registered pay station with National Grid.
Me: What do I pay them with? My card and they write a check?
Asshole: No. You would give them a check.
Me: Why can't I just give you a check?
Asshole: Because there's a hold on your account.
Me: So somehow adding Kung Pow scent to my check makes it more valid?
Asshole: Excuse me?
Me: Isn't this 2008? We have paypal now. Instead you guys want me to get my horse out the stable and head into town, retrieve my gold bullion from the bank, and trot over to the trading post where I'll barter gold and raccoon furs for magic indian torch burning gas. Can you guys get a grip?
Asshole: I don't know what you're talking about, sir.
Me: Okay bye. (click)

Its nine PM. So I wait til the next day. Now I'm at work in Beverly. I go to the bank to get a cashiers check so this payment can go through as soon as possible. I ask the people at Bank Of America if they can somehow just make this payment. They have no idea what I'm talking about. I tell them the story and they all have a collective laugh. Is this 1877 they inquire? Apparently. I call National Grid back. Wait on hold for 20 minutes then:

Me: Can you tell me if you have a pay station in Beverly Mass?
Moron: Yeah. There's one at 240 Cabot St. A Beverly National Bank.
Me: I don't know where that is. Are you sure there isnt one on Rt. 1A; its the only real street around these parts.
Moron: Nope. That's the only one.
(note: cabot st = 1A I would soon discover and its not the only one in Beverly but thats the least of my problems)

So I drive around looking for it. No bank anywhere. I reach the ocean and decide maybe its time to turn around. On the way back I pay real close attention to the numbers. There it is. 240. A Ford car dealership. Awesome. I go in anyway.

Me: Is this 240 Cabot?
Salesman: Yep.
Me: You know where there's a Beverly Bank?
Salesman: There used to be one right here. Don't know no more.
Me: When was that?
Salesman: Sheesh. Musta took over here in like...
(...wait for it...)
Salesman: ...1977.
(19 seventy cock sucking seven. mother of god. even if they sent out a mail carrier on the worlds slowest fucking horse in the universe it would have gotten to National Grid in 30 fucking years.)

Either way I don't have a time warp back to Vietnam handy so I start driving back to work defeated. National Grid just really doesn't want my money. As I'm driving back I notice that five feet past where I started this inane journey there's a mother fucking Beverly National Bank. Is this a mirage I think to myself? It seems to exist. I look at my phone. June 25, 2008. Nice. I haven't gone back in time but this could still be a different dimension like that episode of Sliders. Whatever. I'll give it a shot.

Me: Are you guys a pay center for National Grid?
Clerk: What? We haven't done that in at least 3 years.
Me: Nice.
Clerk: Can't you just pay your bill online now?


Tuesday, June 24, 2008

The Happening Review(note that nowhere in my review do I use the phrase "is not happening rofl")

M. Night is back. Every other year he does other filmmakers a grand favor and makes it impossible for anyone else to end the year with the worst film. Sleep well Mike Myers. The Love Guru dropped to at least second on the list of worst films of 2008. Even Jessica Alba(the female equivalent of Antonia Banderas) cannot compete with M. Night. It is, in fact, impossible.
Kicked out of LA and pretty much America; M had to add producer to his resume to get this movie funded, and even had to fall back on his heritage seeking funding from Ballywood. Maybe it really is your suckitude when every studio in America rejects your scripts. I thought maybe the criticism had finally dented his ego when M proclaimed that his latest film was an intentional B movie, not the usual over produced ubber pretentious tripe he's been making since the Sixth Sense. Unfortunately, in a typical move he followed that proclamation with "...but its the best B movie you'll ever see!" In truth its not even the best C movie of the last two weeks(Zohan seems like Scorcesse compared to this stink bomb).

Before I start the review I just wanna fill people in on my stance on M. I'm not of the crowd that thinks he's been slowly slipping since Sixth Sense. "Unbreakable was cool. Signs was creepy. The Village was good until the ending. And Lady in the Water is forgivable. At least it was original." No! There's no slow downward progress. Just a complete sky dive. Every movie he's made since Sixth Sense is one of the worst movies ever put to film. Potentially nothing can ever topple Lady in the Water. And Signs is still the worst movie I've seen in theaters....We've mastered intergalactic space travel but phooey they've locked us out of the cellar. Oh god that one has a piece of wood! Flee!... But on to the newest turd, The Happening. Here's what could have been a scene from the movie:

                                       Mark Walhberg
            What's going on? What's Happening? Does anyone know
            what's happening?
             All I know is something is definitely happening.

Silence. The actors look at each other confused. Zooey Deschanel is sleeping.
                                        M. Night
            Zooey. Zooey. Wake up. Zooey. It's your line.

Zooey stumbles awake rubbing her eyes.
                                        Zooey Deschanel
            Huh? I fell asleep. What's happening?
                                           M Night
            And...scene. That was perfect guys. Good job.

                                          Crew Member
            Shouldn't we do another take?

                                          M Night

The above snippet encapsulates everything that's wrong with The Happening. The acting is ungodly awful. Markie Mark is beyond confused. Zooey Deschanel sleepwalks through her role turning the marriage story arch into a complete farce. John Liguizamo is a miscast in every movie except Spawn. The other reason the acting is so bad is that it seems like they did one take of each scene(the boom mic appears on the screen a few times. are you fucking joking me?). And of course how do you have acting with this dialogue? "The Happening" is not just the title of this movie but at least 80% of the script. No lie. The other 20% is your usual M Night pretentious garbage: "Me and you are alike. I don't like it when people know about my inside feelings either," proclaims Deschanel making me want to gauge my eyes out with a blunt dick. Remember when M Night used to be subtle? The way he used bricks as a visual device in Sixth Sense. Or the deep pain inside Bruce Willis and Haley Joel Osment's mom that was finally revealed at the end of the movie in awesome scene after awesome scene. The lady wearing a red dress at the Misha Barton wake was obvious, but it had such a profound impact. All of that skill seems to have vanished. Now things couldn't be more obvious. Close up of lawnmower means someone's killing themselves with one in the next few minutes. A speaker tube between the main house and a shed is so evidently inserted into a conversation that you know its going to be key in a major closing scene(a major sucky scene). The last scene is so obvious and such a cop out I almost killed someone. He also used to be a talented filmmaker. Now M Night seems to have developed an infatuation with Zooey Deschanel's big blue eyes and Mark Walhberg's flaring nostrils. How can a movie be scary when all I can see are Walhberg boogers?

And alas the plot. I mean we all knew this was gonna suck. You all know the premise(in other hands this might have made a good movie is the scariest thought presented by this shit fest). Well there's no twist. The only "mystery" is revealed 20 minutes in, and by "revealed" I mean someone just says it. Trust me when I say that I'm giving nothing away by telling you that the plot of this movie is people running away from tree farts. Literally. The farts of trees. For some reason M thought it would be scary to film people running through a field trying to juke out the wind. I haven't laughed harder in my life.

If you thought his other movies had plot holes you haven't seen anything yet. Matrix Revolutions wins the noble prize in logic set beside this tripe. People are killing themselves and the likely culprit are plants. Personally I'd close the window and duct tape everything. Maybe buy a gas mask if there's time. Since this stuff makes you kill yourself I'd recon Id tie myself to a chair with food close by. Or better yet I'd take enough tranquillizers to go to sleep for a few days. Can't kill your self when you're sleeping. The last thing on my mind would be to head out to the woods and farms where I'd frolic around the fields of Pennsylvania gulping up poison and trying to play freeze tag with the wind.

If you're wondering how in the world this could be scary...its not. There's two types of scenes in The Happening: ridiculous and boring. Every now and then when M tries to shove themes and shit in your face its ridiculous and boring at the same time. As a film maker obsessed that critics have treated him unfairly I don't understand why M insists on giving his enemies rocks to throw back at him. Regardless, The Happening seems to be making its money back. I don't know if M has a Chuck Palahniuk like cult following that will chew up and swallow every piece of turd and every shit infused plot twist thrown at them with glee. Or maybe, like me, people are curious how low he'll go next. I can't decide if I want the man to fall off the face of the planet and never make another movie again(his next film is for Nickelodeon. if that's not running on fumes what is?). There is indeed a strange pleasure in laughing through his movies. On the other hand, I got such a bad headache the other day that I had to lie down on the couch and I passed out in some sort of self preservation from the pain. When I woke up I thought it might have been the storm outside that had caused the migraine. You know. The humidity and the changes in atmospheric pressure. But now that I think about it...I think my brain was trying to sever the neurons that stored my memory of this film. Now that's a bad fucking movie.

Friday, June 20, 2008

Celtics Recap Q and A

Did we win?

Hellz yeah son.

Could the win have been any better?

Barely. You know its a good game when you're arguing with your friends whether your team will win by 30 or closer to 40 when its all said and done. 39. So close. I ran out of soldiers in my balls by Allen's fourth three pointer. From then on it was just putting cherries onto the sugar that was covering the frosting atop the already sweet sweet cake. Here are the only things that would have made me even happier:

1. Odom snaps and pushes KG. Before he gets kicked out the game KG lands a knee to the groin that none of the refs notice.
2. Kobe tackles Vujacic then grabbing him by the hair pummels his face into the wood. As his team rips him off the bloody sis bag he screams "Even Jordan needed a Pippen. Where the fuck is my Pippen?" Vujacic just cries more, but Phil Jackson gets in Kobe's face, "Jordan didn't need anyone you piece of shit." Kobe: "Yeah, that includes you, you fucking hack." Phil then pulls a samurai sword. Kobe's wife throws him a glock and the two go at it like Neo and Agent Smith. They kill each other. Vujacic dies in the cross fire. Jack Nicholson dies from shock. I die of happy.
3. Phil Jackson's daughter appears on the jumbotron and announces that she's fucking Matt Damon. Later in the game Kobe's two year old does the same. Matt Damon appears and smacks her on the Pampers with a wink. (I think Kobe would mind that but im not 100% sure)
4. Sam Cassel announces after the game that he is, in fact, a Putty and that the Blue Ranger showed him how to play basketball back in the early nineties.

Is Doc a good coach?

......ehhhhhh...well....he won....right? He must be doing something right. I've always defended him a bit because he values team play and has a good coaching philosophy(the polar opposite of Phil Jackson). But this is the finals not gym class. When Brown, Pierce, Allen(Tony mind you), Kassel, and Glen Davis are on the floor you know something ain't right. Our only play is a high pick and roll. Luckily Phil Jackson doesn't know what year it is or what a basketball looks like.

Are the Celtics the best team in the NBA?

Yes. It was a weird trip(we almost lost to Atlanta), but fuck it. We made it. Winning in 5 would have shut everyone the fuck up, but I think winning in 6 by 39 is even better. It just shows that if the 3 play well at the same time(why this is impossible usually I don't know), and you throw Rondo in the mix then we are unstoppable. UN. STOP. ABLE.

Pierce MVP?

Of course. He's the only "real" Celtic first off. And he played his heart out. Allen had like 90 points game six but Pierce is the only player that showed up for game five and kept the train from going of the rails. Doc's post game speech in the locker room:

"So. Even if Pierce is the only dude that remembers how to dribble we barely lose to these lackers. If the rest of you would just look in the mirror and remember that you're black and can play basketball we'd win by 40."
39. But he was close.

What was the best moment?

The fourth quarter??? Okay, well. I guess when they poured Gadorade all over Doc and the court with like 8 minutes left to play.

Lakers: Hey, you're fucking up the court.
Celtics: Um. Can't you just lose over there?
Lakers: (shrug) I guess so.

Runner Up: The fact that every actual player(ones you could point out on the street) played at least a couple of minutes except Cassel. Just Doc's way of saying, man we really didn't need to sign you.

What was the worst moment?

There was only one bad moment. It happened in the press conference. Ray Allen is being asked questions and he says something along the lines of everyone played their part. This wouldn't have been possible without Pollard and Scalibrine. NO!!!!!!! Pollard makes like 700k so thats 100k per foot. Fine. We can toss him in if Perkins is hurt and we need a real center in there. Scalabrine is more useless than the windows key on your keyboard. He's like if your keyboard had a 'crash computer' button that was right between 'e' and 'r' and every time you pressed it by accident your computer would go to blue screen of death. He makes 3 million. Yep $3,000,000. That makes him the 6th highest payed player on our team(i know.jesus). And if you look at his stats you come to realize hes like one of the highest paid athletes ever considering he banks 6k per minute he plays and 70k per bucket he scores. Why don't they sign me and I'll drain two against Milwaukee and call it a year financially?

Are you going to watch baseball now?

Nope. Euro Cup. Then Wimbledon will start up(is Federer going down on grass?). Then there's a little break before the Olympics start up so I'll just see Dark Knight three times a day for those ten days or so. Then after the Olympics U.S. Open starts. Baseball at< September = (me don't care*2^n)!  Note: That's not an exclamation point its a factorial. For the math illiterate that translates to really really really really really really don't care.

Is this the start of a dynasty?

Doubt it. The big three are coming up on the collective age of 100. Look at KG's post game Q and A to notice how senile he's already becoming(was he talking in Zwahili?) But we won bitches. And we can do it again next year!(in the least)

Friday, June 6, 2008

What would you say you do here?

Sitting around at 'work' lately I've come to the realization of how bad of a term 'work'  is in describing that thing people do between nine and five. First off, who are we kidding? Only like 10% of people at 'work'  get any 'work' done (they're called immigrants). These foreginers do all the number crunching and the manual labor aka things that could be properly defined as 'work.' Everyone else scratches their asses and answers the phone every now and then(by my calulations phone calls are roughly 2% work related). If the word manager, human resources, or administrator is anywhere in your job title then your job is to do nothing. You just have to be 'at work,' but you're not doing 'work' so...

So, I mean, the term 'work' does a good job of denoting ones lack of desire to be there, but to me it also implies you're doing something. Time is passing. No way. I wake up in the morning and I tell myself I'm going to 'slow residule brain deteriation' for eight hours. Since 90% of us aren't really working(yeah im in that group. i mean, i dont have 'manager' or 'human resources' in my title but then again i really dont have a title which explains my lack of 'give a shit').

Either way this makes making the time slither by an art form. My office neighbors seem to fall back on conversations about golf and last weeks sermon. I, unfortunatly, don't remeber the good old days when Woodrow Wilson lead our nation. I have to find other things to do(and not eating a melon thats so soft I know i'm not gonna enjoy it is not one of them, Paul Reiser you useless hack). I share a few now:

- Sometimes I slowly press my pen with the cap still intact deep into my finger digits until I can't bear the pain anymore. The sudden surge of that little adrenaline reminds me that I'm alive which in turn depresses me.

- I read articles from the Times and such from the bottom up backwards then see if I understood what happened. No.

- I get up and go to the bathroom then go back to my desk. Five minutes later I go back to literally the same spot and drink from the water fountain. Repeat every 10 minutes.

- An alternative to the above is to just do the waterfountain and hold off on the wizz. This makes the actual urination late in the day orgasmic.

- I untie and then retie my shoes.

- I make coffee. But I don't like coffee so I just smell it for a few minutes then pour it out.

- I play finger ninjas. That's exactaly what it sounds like. You use your index and middle finger to have ninja brawls with your other ninja fingers. Left hand is suprisingly up 190-186.

- I make a grocery list with things like 'anit-boredom spray' on it.

- I have really random Aim conversations. "Yo. Who you think could jump higher: spiderman or nightcrawler?"

- I pretend like I'm high on drugs, and trying not to get caught. This works surprisingly well at passing the time.

- I look up random African countries on wikipedia. You know how many people in Chad are under the age of 15? 47%. Yeah, a bunch.

- I day dream about Dimmy's Mom, but I guess this isn't work specific at all. Its alive specific.

- I think about a region of my body starting to itch. Soon it starts to itch. Then I scratch it. It feels good.

- Because I have to make keystrokes so that it looks like I'm working, but I dont know what to type my code ends up looking something like this:

for(int counter = 0; counter < length; counter++)
   sum_of_sequence = You are my fire. My one desire. I know. When you say. Cuz I want it that way. Tell me why...

Sometimes I'm dumb enough to run the code. Error: "You are my fire" is undefined. Stupid souless computers. Shits classic.

- I come up with porn names. Then I refer to myself in the third person for the rest of the day using the name.

Man. Dong Corleone is hungry. Did Dong Corleone bring any cookies today?
(find cookies is bag)
Awesome. You the man, Dong Corleone.

- I write emails to large corporations:

Dear Juicy Couture,

I just want to say that your company is genius. Before you clothing companies came to the realization that if the brand is right girls will pay outrageous prices for shitty clothing. But you took it an amazing step further. You made crappy clothing and instead of advertising the brand you just made the clothes expensive for no reason. This of course led girls to belive that your clothing must then by default be desireable. If it's expensive that means I'll have it and my poorer friends won't, right? By the time they realized every girl in school had a zip up sweater in every color from JC(list price $120) it was too late and you were gazillionaires.

Please let me join your team. Albert Einstein would be envious of your marketing genius, and I have a few ideas of my own. Here's a taste:

Jeanswith a zipper in the back. Left ass check says "EASY," right ass check says "INSERTION."
Shirts and tops with cut out hole where the tramp stamp is. I can see the commercial now...
"Never leave guys in the dark about your hoodrat status and where to unload again."
Shall we start the bidding at say 200 dollars(the equivalent of  negative 900 dignity points)? 

- I read Eminem lyrics from when he was good. Then I send him angry emails:

Dear Eminem,

Your new music makes me want to cut my wrists. I'm not saying that shit clownin dawg. How fucked up is you?

P.S. You suck

- I read the first four lines of Nickelback's Photograph like ten times a day:

Looking at this photograph.
Every time I do it makes me laugh.
How did our eyes get so red?
And what the hell is that on Joey's head?

No. I didn't make that up.

- Did I already say daydream about DM?

- I come up with new ways to say take a crap and then execute. Shit. I gotta go call an airstrike on Dumpenhaggen. Brb.

- I check the internet to see if Jonh McCain died yet.

- I sing songs to myself that always have the following line somewhere in them:

"Tacos and burritos. Que es espositos."

No. 'Espositos' is not a word in any language.

- For fifteen minutes a day I do what one might refer to as "work." Perhaps. Maybe. And only sometimes.

- I convince myself not to kill myself.

Don't do it Dong Corleone. Its not worth it....You right, Dong. You right. (put down stapler)

- DM. Followed by more DM.

- I write in my journal on company dollar. Enjoy.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Random Blurbs(Censored Version)

This entry used to be funnier but the FCC forced me to remove certain material from the post. But just because I'm not saying it doesn't mean I'm not still doing it ; =).

I think people are making too much of a big deal out of this Katrina victim that’s suing the United States for 3 quadrillion dollars (that’s 90 billion in interest a day). Everyone including the media fails to point out the second clause to his plea and I quote: “My client in retribution for his suffering at the hands of the United States government is asking for 3 quadrillion dollars or if it so pleases all parties involved a number four combo meal from Kentucky Fried Chicken…Original.”

I think the Dark Knight should be reshot with Wes Welker as the caped crusader because like Batman Mr. Welker doesn’t fuck around.

I think attorney Barry Feinstein accepts both checks and live babies as payment from clients.

It takes me a month to type one word on my phone in a text message. So if you asked me something as vague as “What are we doing tonight?” or the infamous “?” last year you can expect a response later this year or early 2009.

There’s a new website called that advertises itself as the youtube of ideas. So it’s pretty much youtube without bros and yah dudes. I posted a video in the quantum physics section discussing the possibility that the never before seen graviton particle may be lodged in my left testicle. Those elitist assholes pulled it the second it went up. I didn’t even get to see Stephen Hawking’s response to it,and I assure you that my argument was not unfounded. By measuring the volume of my nut in a measuring cup and its weight on a kitchen scale I found that its volume alters minutely but the weight is constant (well... +/- a pound). The only explanation is a massless particle. And I know my ball has spin 2 because it can do two full rotations before snapping back in place. My testes also have attractive forces (Women can’t get away from them. They prefer the left one. Coincidence? I think not). So lick my elementary particles

The Golden Globes were not televised this year so if you missed out on the winners allow me to fill you in now. Best Motion Picture Drama went to Delta Farce. Critics debated whether this film belonged in the comedy or drama section as it has been labeled the best satire put to film since Dr. Strangelove, but ultimately it was decided that the films overwhelming power warranted not only a spot in drama, but a Golden Globe to go with it. This allowed Norbit to take the award in best comedy. Eddie Murphy finally got his dues. Charlize Theron throws on some makeup and a few pounds and gets an Oscar. Finally Eddie gets the respect he deserves after making his like 12th fat suit/skinny guy movie. Norbit’s 100 million dollar reign at the box office proves America is impressed by his hard work. Other award winners included the dog from I Am Legend, Lindsay Lohan, and Ghost Rider. 300 took home an all new award: Best 100+ minute trailer.  

Have you seen Juno? You know the part where she says “lets get some tunage going”? Your welcome Diablo Cody. I invented that. I’m sure someone from Mass heard it and then told a friend who went to Vegas to the strip club where you worked Diablo and said “how about some boobage?” I’d like to take this moment to convince everyone to also add “bonkerscock” and “doinkshwank” to their vocabularies.

I think Rachael Ray and Peyton Manning should team up and appear in commercials together. If they continue at their individual rates there will be nothing left in the world to endorse by next year.

I’m leaving the country if any of the following happen: Mike Huckabee is elected president, Rudy Giuliani is elected president, Scientology takes off as a major religion, or if we get to SAW IX.

I came up with the best drinking game ever that is unbelievable fun and everyone gets plastered. However, it also involves motor boating so don’t ask me to show you how to play if you’re not an attractive female.

I think if I made it on Jeopardy I’d have a better story than “I once peeled hundreds of peas for a party.” For instance how about the time my mom called me to bike down to the store when I was ten to help her with the groceries she was walking back with. I bike the 3 quarter miles and she hands me a watermelon. Yeah. Like the biggest fucking one I’ve ever seen. Took that about a block and then chucked it down a sewage drain. The next day on Jeopardy I’d tell Alec my Condom Island story (its on here somewhere if you’re one of the only people I haven’t told it to). After that I’d get banned from the show. Fuck you Trebek. Condom Island’s gonna be a final Jeopardy question in like 100 years.

U.S. News declared Baghdad as the worst city to live in right now. I don’t know. There’s no scene or emo kids and definitely no hippies in Iraq.  

I hate hippies.

I love meat. Especially in the form of acronyms like QPC and JBC. released its 100 hottest women of 2007 recently. There are some choices I disagree with. That Trump bitch is okay not hot. Where’s Nicole and Naomi? Rossario Dawson and Fergie are overrated. I wouldn’thave sex with Gwen Stefani, Eva Mendez, Kelly Clarkson or Penelope Cruz if they were the last women on earthand there were no sheep. Are there sheep?

I think. Nay. I know I could beat Brian Scalabrine 1-on-1 in basketball. This statement also holds true for Luc Longley.

I wish I still had Legos. Like big time. Also K’nex and Erector Set are for penis wrinkles.

Zeus, king of the gods, took on numerous forms including a bull and a swan in order to come down to earth and impregnate women. He’s still doing this today under the disguise of Tom Brady. That kid is gonna be a fucking football demi-god.

A recent stat shows that guys scrub their pubic regions for 60% of the time they are in the shower. My junk takes up 60% of my surface area. What’s your point?

I hate people that exaggerate, and I never exaggerate. Ever.

Any American teenager  that wears a Che Guevara shirt sucks bonkerscock and is a huge doinkswank.

I like Jewel's song Foolish Games and 4 Seasons of Loneliness by Boys II Men. There I said it.

People from foreign countries often complain/point out the lack of colorful swear words in the English language. Every word/phrase in our language has like 100 synonyms you’ve never heard of except mother fucker they say. Not true: Oedipus Rex.

I can’t decide whether my life or Forrest Gump’s is more interesting until I know whether he’s played NBA JAM Tournament Edition for the Super Nintendo. If not then my life is definitely more complete.

Why doesn’t someone release a Gigapet program for cell phones? And why did I say that out loud? No one take my idea...“It’s a jump to conclusions mat.”  

Fuck iphones. I want one of those flip out black phones with solar powered calculator screens from The Matrix. Speaking of which I called the operator once and told them I needed an exit fast because there were agents all over me. They disconnected me, but I don’t know if that was out of spite or if that’s what they interpreted an “exit” as.  

No one see Cloverfield. Don’t give in to their bullshit marketing campaign. Also if anyone starts a sentence in my presence as such, “So I went to see Meet The Spartans the other day,” expect a swift kick to the pelvis followed by some shoulder blade fucking and skull fucking.

That queer guys new show should be renamed from “How to Look Good Naked” to “How to Look Good Naked: Eat Less and Do Some Fucking Exercise.”   

God I hope the writers strike doesn’t lead to a reality TV revival. If it does. I’m leaving the country.

My new year’s resolution was to stop making Dimmy’s mom jokes…Kidding. Yeah right. That’d be like giving up breathing...In seriousness I decided to start taking real responsibility for my actions. So Jamie Lynn. If you’re reading this. I’m coming back home to Louisiana baby. I’m gonna be a real daddy.

I know all the words to the Gummi Bears theme song. All of them.

That is all.