Sorry. I just flew in from Seattle and am still adjusting to the time difference.
Wherever I go, I run into people with the last name Williamson. Damn. William was a slut.
The government of the town I was staying in has a laptop on which they misspelled the name of the town.
It was fun. I could see Alaska from my house.
I slept on a memory foam pillow. It reminded me of what it's like to be asleep.
Right on, my Inuit.
I really wanted to get a snapshot of “Leisure/Jackson,” but laziness prevailed.
Other signs I wish I took pictures of:
“Useless Bay”
“Botany Bay” (+4 nerd points)
“Don't litter. It will hurt.”
“Bush Point Road”
I lived with someone who watches tv and I learned that America's Got Talent is judged by two Brits and a man who is only liked in Germany.
I met a man named Gar. He is not a pirate.
Some people are nervous about getting on a boat, but I’m ok. I just ate a crap ton of lifesavers.
I think all writers need water. You know. Like for survival, and stuff. Because you can write for a really long time, but you're eventually going to get thirsty. Washington was fun, but I could see how it has one of the highest rates of suicide in the nation.
People are more predictable there. Their church slogan is "O happy day." The one here has “Before you master the bible, it must first master you.”
Apparently, God likes it rough.
Flying is a lot like watching the Olympics. When it comes to those crucial moments, everyone scrutinizes minute details like they know what the hell they're doing.
Whenever I have a lot of programs open it sounds like tiny armadillos having sex inside my computer.
I heard Stone Temple Pilots at the grocery store.
Worse yet, I heard a band that I saw live on soft rock radio alongside the John Tesh Music Hour.
+3 old fuck points
I have a birthday coming up. I’m keeping my options open.
I'm down like James Brown in the ground.
Gertrude Baines, the world's oldest known person, died of a heart attack today. She really should've watched what she ate.
LSD stands for Aaaaaaahh!!!
Jk. I've never done that shit.
Can't sleep. Clowns will eat me.
If anyone ever puts me in charge of developing an acronym, I will make it of all silent letters. But I’ll probably have to move to France to get away with that.
Whenever someone tells me about a corn maze, I think they're stuttering in tongues.
I like fruit on the bottom yogurt. The best part is the bottom. They should just make fruit.
I wonder if when the government named Indiana they knew it would one day also be the name of a porno.
Googling yourself is just foreplay to Youtubing yourself.
I may soon be writing for a variety show in LA. Hopefully, that will land me a job writing for film. I don’t really have the attention span to write the scripts, but I could name them.
Boondock Saints 2: The Legend of Curly’s God
Short fiction writers, this one’s for free: I snatched a fly out of the air, crushed it between my thumb and forefinger and dropped it in the trash. The next day, I find it on the floor a half inch away from the can. Ready, GO.
Autobiographical meta flash fictions:
#1 I’ll call it “flash” because reading it gives the same feeling as finding out that the man in the trench coat looks his age.
#2
The new shirt by Snorg Tees got the Konami Code incorrect. You can send your hate mail here: business@snorgtees.com
Video games are not educational anymore. Ms. Pac Man taught me all about hermaphroditism.
Mustachioed is among my favorite adjectives.
I heard a woman yell to her child "Give me the key! 5!...4!..."
5? What happened to 3? Kids these days have a much shorter attention span. She should be starting at 1.
"Kids these days?" Jebus. +2 more old fuck points.
Jeremiah was in fact a South African speckled brown toad.
I bought ink online and it sent me a link where I could print an invoice.
So, I did. And this was page 2:
If you can’t read it, that says “Thanks for recycling!”
Little Red Corvette.
The latest in unnecessary news coverage: It took an interview with a government official to gain the headline “Teddy was loved.”
Clearly Nixon propaganda.
Soldiers in Afghanistan commemorated the anniversary of 9-11 with a 21 gun salute, or as the citizens of Afghanistan call it, "Holy crap!"
I find the following disturbing because they actually get away with it:
Mayo that is healthy because it has Omega-9
A cattle farm that is good for the environment
The school library being described as adjacent to the coffee shop
Religious people who call praying “kneemail.”
Ok, so they don’t really get away with that. But that doesn’t mean I hate it any less.
Also in that category would be women who wear clothing with pockets and still keep their iPhone in their boobs.
And women who keep candy in their boobs to hand out to little kids.
Men don’t do that kind of stuff. I don’t know a single man who keeps M&Ms in his asscrack.
Or his boobs.
I recently came across someone (a writer, no less) who spells them “bubbies.”
Even this guy knows better:
If I ever get on Wheel of Fortune, I hope I'm pitted against two smurfs.
Funny name: Dhi Bui
I washed a peach and it became a nectarine.
Do you drink it with pasta puttanesca?
Whenever someone says to me “I wanna bowla soup,” I’m not sure if they’d like the meal, the weapon or the deadly monkey virus.
In the medical world, H1N1 =
In the gaming world, H1N1 = you’ve sunk my PT boat
For those of you who read Entertainment Weekly on a fairly regular basis:
In: Making fun of Timberlake Out: Making fun of Kanye Forever: Making fun of Bono
I’ll take famous hammers for 500.
I want to go to a club, but not one where I’d have to dress in ridiculous clothes, dance to bad remixes of worse music, drink watered down beverages, deal with douchey rich kids and pay a hefty fee just to enter the building.
I love food. And I love cooking. But I especially love cooking food.
I want to write a cookbook and call it “Chicken Soup for the Stomach.”
I haven’t made lamb stew in a while. I should get on that. The last time I made it, my friend questioned the morality of me doing so, being Scottish and all. “You wouldn’t eat your dog, would you?” he asked. “No, but I would eat my girlfriend.”
I saw an old lady at the casino really going to town on the Playboy slot.
You sick fuck.
Another old lady at work informed me that she was “ordering for two.” Hey, if all your what-have-you still works, more power to you.
Sometimes, overhearing conversation snippets can make me sad. Like when I walked by, and the lady said, “...wrecks the dog.” Poor thing.
My dixie wrecked.
It’s like we’re in 7th grade again.
I have a very Pavlovian reaction to receiving text messages.
The church down the street has a new slogan on their sign: “Everyone ought 2 go 2 church 2 get away from himself.” I’ll provide 3 objections to this, because Christians like that number:
First and most obvious is the gratuitous use of the number 2 2 mean ( See? It’s annoying, right?) the preposition, “to.” What the fuck is going on here? Is Jesus sending us a text message? I actually did kinda get a text message from Jesus once. You know how sometimes you forget to lock the keypad on your phone and you end up butt-dialing your ex girlfriend’s mother while making out with your current girlfriend on her dad’s bed when he’s working late and she has the house to herself? It was like that, only I was at work, and instead of dialing someone, my ass hit the exact sequence of keys to purchase a screen saver of Jesus. Now, I understand you’re working with spacial limitations, and the last thing I would expect of a priest is to magically make an abundance of something, but in using the number, you’ve only saved three spaces. And you’re teaching the kids bad grammar.
Defaulting to a male pronoun in reference to everyone is sexist. Now, there’s nothing wrong with being sexy. And I’m a dude, so I really don’t mind. But I can see how some might be offended. And you don’t want to piss off half of the population. Ask the Republican party.
I realize I didn’t type it as such, but the sign is in all caps, I guess because god is loud. The issue here is that traditionally the church uses “Him” to denote god. Isn’t going to church to get away from Himself contradictory? Maybe even blasphemous?
Last week, their slogan was: “Idle gossip keeps some very occupied.” That’s going on 2,000 years, right?
The anchor on News 10 said, “...and if you don’t watch News 10, you can get updates on your cellphone.”
If you can’t find my blog, be patient. My next post will tell you where it is.
I’m curious as to the necessity of tassels.
Remember Mrs. Goldfarb’s head twitch? I kept track during class yesterday: 177 times. And that wasn’t even for the full class period. I left 15 minutes early.
I just tutored 3 people for their writing on 3 subjects: why consumerism and overspending are good, why church and state should not be separate, and why gays should not be allowed to marry. This is when Gordon loses hope in humanity.
I really wanted to throttle each of the little fuckers, but it was my responsibility to help them improve their papers. This is where Gordon feels conflicted.
I’m in the situation in which my day job requires a (shitty) day job. I’ve stopped asking questions or making suggestions at this job. First of all, I’ve been told I’d be fired if I did so. Second, well, stuff like this:
It’s in my job description to ask questions and make suggestions.
The company’s framed “Commitment Statement” leans against the wall amongst discarded rubber bands and behind water hoses in a dirty corner.
A list of phone numbers with the title "In Case of Phone Numbers." Finally. I know what to consult should I ever encounter phone numbers: A list of phone numbers.
That’s really a weak example. A shit ton of other semantical, grammatical and spelling errors abound, which is ironic, considering much of it comes from native English speakers and not the Swiss-born owner.
I’m not going to give out any sensitive information, or even list things that people eating there should really know about. But I could. I’ll just leave it at that.
You’d lose all hope in humanity too, if you were regularly asked questions like:
“What kind of fruit is in the strawberry cake?”
(Staring at the appropriately-labeled lunch menu in his hands) “Where’s your lunch menu?”
(After walking past the window with our hours posted, looking in to see an empty building, pulling then pushing and then banging on the locked door until someone opens it)
“You guys open?” “No. We closed at 2.” “Can I still get a cake?” “No. We’re closed. We’ll open tomorrow at 6.” “When do you close?” “2 o’clock.” “Oh. I just need to get a cake.” “I’m sorry. We’re closed.” “Ok. I’m just getting a cake.” “I’m sorry. We closed an hour ago. There aren’t any more registers.” “Acchhh! Unbelievable! This is really sub-par service. Who is your supervisor? And your name? I know (Mr. (his first name), his ex wife’s name, etc.)! I’m going to get you fired.” And then that person actually gets fired.
Situations like those are when money trumps natural selection.
Now that I think about it, I’m the one who is out of place. The management fits the clientele perfectly.
I’m astounded at how often people complain about things they don’t have to. I heard one lady who was honestly irritated with other people’s accents: “‘Kaahfee?’ Why do people say ‘Kaahfee?’ That’s not how you say it. It’s ‘Couuahfee.’”
If I wasn’t working, I’d have totally represented for Chicago with something like this:
For a few weeks now, there have been signs all over campus that say “Protest at the capital. March 16th. www.iwillmarch.com.” None of the signs (nor the web address) hint at what exactly will be protested against. I’m bringing this up now, after the fact, in an effort to avoid aiding their stupidity. Is this just a protest for angry people? If you want to bitch about nothing in particular, go to the capitol on March 16th at any time and scream to your heart’s content. Maybe this was all an act of retaliation by some dude who works at the capitol and is tired of people showing up en masse at his place of business and yelling out bad rhymes while he tries to type a memo. That’s what I’d do. Find some day in which the capitol is closed, and then get everyone to march when it won’t disturb me and won’t help their cause in any way. Or maybe they like protests, but wish they could be a bit more interesting. If you’re general enough with the advertisements, you can get the NRA and the gun control people to show up together. Then you just have to watch the fireworks.
I want to see www.iwillnotmarch.com, a website for those with a deep devotion to apathy.
I don’t have Photoshop, so maybe you can help me out. All of the women in those omnipresent dating site ads are oddly-shaped. Is there like a red eye remover tool for making their boobs poke out?
Several times this week, I’ve been talking to a woman and I’ve wanted to say, “Excuse me. Um. Sorry. But you just. There’s. You have a little something. It’s right there. You. DON’T BLINK! Just. Careful. Really close. Yeah. Around there, kinda.” And it turns out to be a shit ton of mascara. I don’t care so much that it’s not sexy. I’m just trying to save you from painting yourself into ocular surgery.
I try not to be superficial, but the following are deal breakers for me:
If your purse costs more than all of the clothes on me at any particular moment
If you can recite the cheers from “Bring it On”
If you are in no way related to royalty, and yet you are a “princess”
If your nails, boobs or any other non-vital body parts are not your own. Listen to Mix-A-Lot. Silicone parts are made for toys.
If you really are listening to that new Nickelback album
Yeah, I don’t see myself finding someone for a long time.
Maybe it’s because I haven’t seen the movie, but doesn’t Slumdog Millionaire = Sean Kingston?
All “Lil” rappers should be banned from using the term “shorty.” I’m just looking for some consistency.
“Lil Wayne” sounds like Mike Meyers went schizo.
That was for all you kids who remember the ‘90s.
Did you notice how the new Volvos look like Pacers? It’s an accurate ad. Garth did bang Kim Basinger.
Car companies need to re-institute the station wagon. You assholes with crossover SUVs are just masturbating.
I’m not the kind of dick who would spend a lot of money on something like custom taillights. But if I was, they would totally look like this:
The weather is getting nicer. Soon I’m going to need one of these:
I just acquired a Casiotone 201. It’s the first Casiotone ever made. The case is wood. And the keys are ivory-colored plastic.
So, I guess I’ll be needing one of these instead:
Being an English scholar, I always try to do my part to advance the language: Copy (adj) - having the properties of a law enforcement officer. “Shit. Do those headlights look copy?”
I’ve never liked the phrase “taking a shit.” It’s misleading. You go to the restroom to leave a shit behind. If you tell me, “I’m going to the restroom to take a shit,” I’ll tell you, “Don’t bring it back here.” Because that shit’s gross. And I don’t want to look at it while I’m eating a hamburger. There must be a better term.
Like “deduce.”
It’s accurate. It uses the number system, so that pleases the scientists. And it also works well in conjunction with sitting on the “think tank.”
Motion carried. Or, should I say, “peristalsis.”
Some laxatives sell themselves on the claim that they don’t contain any harsh stimulants. I’d like to carry it further and sell a combined laxative/tranquilizer: Chillax
The names just keep on coming in:
Mr. Deepenbrock. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
This was written on a cake: Happy Birthday, My Sweet Paniz. There’s a man who loves himself. Long time. But probably not as much as
Dick Self.
My right boob will not stop moving. Is that serious?
Sexy.
Doug would like this one: I got a captcha that said, “Originally Mr.” That was on Facebook, where they use real words. Some, like Ticketmaster, just randomly throw together letters and numbers. And still, I managed to get this while buying Incubus tickets:
I’ll willingly lose a bit of street cred by admitting that I like The Used. But what the crap are they doing at SXSW?
That’s for bands like this:
And maybe even this:
I wonder if Tricky will cover Run DMC.
Hard times? There is a direct correlation between conservatism and porn sales. Seriously. More porn is sold in the country when there is a Republican president. And regardless of who is in the white house, conservative states consume more porn per capita than liberal states, number one being Utah, with 5.4 subscriptions to porn services per household.
That’s what happens when you suppress natural human desires. Remember Ted Haggard? He’s now “cured” and selling insurance, so obviously he’s trustworthy now.
Insurance? Have you no faith?
“There was a new study by the Vatican, and by God, why don’t they mind their own business?” I love you, David Letterman. You have what Leno never had: testicles.
“Have you taken a look at these people? Doesn’t it strike you odd that most of the people who are against abortion are people you wouldn’t want to fuck in the first place?” I would so have George Carlin’s babies.
I really don’t hate the religious. They can be some of the nicest people. But they can also do some stupid shit sometimes.
That being said, what does the Pope say after taking a dump? “Who do I have to persecute to get some TP up in this bitch?”
Those of you who said, “Holy shit!” are incorrect. He’d never say that.
I know this might piss off a lot of people, but Battlestar Galactica was on the cover of Soap Opera Weekly. I’m just reporting the truth.
For those who don’t watch it, it’s basically this show where a bunch of wookees run around and stuff happens.
You people may not realize it, but every once in a while, you say something that changes my world. Like referring to someone as “my significant lover.” I like that.
Posts
