Craigslist ad I posted to offer my services as a "Sound Effect Assistant for Every Day Life"

For just 7.25/hr. ...I will follow you around with a stereo and an archive full of sound effects, ready to turn your life into an episode in a British comedy..

I will be ready to make you feel better with a "laugh track" when nobody found your ethnic joke funny because you're white.

I will be ready to play the "sad trombone" sound when you witness an epic FAIL as you're stalled in traffic throughout your morning commute.

I will be ready with an ironic "drum roll" when that relative at Thanksgiving -whom everyone already knows is gay, stands up to 'make an announcement'.

The next time you're at your child's little league game and forget you're not at home yelling at the TV..... I will have the "censor beep" ready at hand to spare the children's ears and sanitize your profanity laced tirade aimed at the referee.

I will cue the "Darth Vader" theme from Star Wars when your boss walks into the room.....

All this and more when you hire...ME...your SOUND EFFECT ASSISTANT FOR EVERYDAY LIFE!

You can hire me for a couple of hours throughout the day to make your work day a little more entretaining...OR...Make an appointment today to book me for your next: corporate event, bar mitzvah, AA meeting. Whatever. *









As long as this "whatever" is a 2 hour minimum.*

Location: Utah County

I'm curious about what kinds of responses I'll get...perhaps I'll post them in a future entry..

What the BLEEP are the 1966 Shelby Cobra and 1977 Ford Pinto doing in the same blog entry??

I love talking to my brother. He's my best friend. 2 of our favorite subjects are cars and women. Sometimes, I'll start talking about both at the same time...and I forget which of the 2 subjects I'm referring to ...entries like these ensue...
I somehow came to the conclusion that that these types of girlfriends were very much like these cars...In my usual fashion, it's blunt... you've been warned...

The 1966 Shelby Cobra:

This is the type of woman that can approach any one in the current crop of suicidal Wall Street Execs and convince them to step away from the edge of the bridge they were about to jump off of 5 minutes ago. She's smart. She can refute Stephen Hawking's theories of the universe..all while giving you the best lap dance of your life. This woman could don a janitor jumpsuit, push around a little cart full of spray bottles...and STILL look smokin' while doing it. She's witty. She could heckle Carlos Mencia off the stage and make HIM feel 'dee dee dee'.... How can she juggle all of this and still look stunning. Because she can do 0-60-mph time in 3 seconds. Reliability? That 800 Horsepower is going to stay at a respectable level.... even through the years. Even after all these decades, there is still barely a scratch on her. Too bad only 2 were ever made, right?

The 1972 Datsun 510:

You met her during a phase of 'moral balancing' in your life....When the guilt of not ever having donated ONE fuckin'dollar to those charities that let you put your name on a fun paper cut-out at the resgister compels you to volunteer to read to blind children. There she was, wearing a frumpy Christmas sweater...and it was February.

She's asymmetrical on all counts. Yet, You fall in love with her despite yourself. She may be ugly, but her value increases exponentially with time as you realize that she has so much going on inside..like a Jackson Pollock painting. Your friends may give you shit, but that Datsun sure can surprise them when her engine turns out to be a 2.0L...instead of the 1.6. She hasn't dated much, but has at least used that time to upgrade herself inside. Who cares if you have to smear your eyes with petroleum jelly to go on dates with her, "Shallow Hal" style? Even after all these years, her engine still hums sweetly, like an angel farting in tune to "Ave Maria".

The 1994 Honda Accord:

Sure ...She doesen't exactly stand out in the looks department. She's pretty all right..... but if she's white, it's hard to spot her at the Wal-Mart parking lot. At least she isn't going to be making your mother cringe as she imagines her grandchildren's faces looking like Mrs. Potato Head got hit by a construction beam. She's reliable, very reliable....and she handles herself excellently, even when the road gets rocky. Maybe it'the reason it's still one of the most stolen cars in America.

The 1977 Ford Pinto:

Oh, sure she can get hot, but not "Boom-Chicka-Wha-Wha"
hot. The kinds of fires she starts are legendary and attract the
attention of the authorities. She's neurotic..and everything is your
fault. The weather man was wrong? Definately your fault. She can't
understand her manicurist's thick Korean accent? Your fault again.....and
she'll berate you even as you buff the calluses on her feet.
Why are you still seeing this woman? She's ugly as hell and has no
structural integrity...or ANY integrity for that matter. Maybe you had
one of those dads who drilled it into your head that you're a sissy for
not being able to keep your Tequila shot down at 12. Therefore, your
confidence was shot before you even uttered your first pick-up line.
One day, you're at a party and some poor fuck is too drunk....(or nearsighted) to realize he's spitting game with Ursula from 'The Little Mermaid. Your spirit is too broken to care. You look the other way. You don't have the courage to leave her because this is the best you think you'll ever do, but every night you go to bed praying someone will recall her...and save you from that inevitable unpleasant death.

The "Ricer" :

Your Snookis of the world. Her sound system is loud and obnoxious, but you're okay with that as long as your buddies nod approvingly....You can festoon so many shiny trinkets on her that 'Flava Flav' would feel tacky if he was seen riding this....but......What good is having nice rims when even that wigger down the street who's been wearing the same wife beater for the past 3 days gets a piece when you're not looking? She's slow as hell. You're watching "30 Rock", and she asks you if Tina Fey is going to run for president again. She's high-maintenance. Eventually you start to realize that no matter how much you invest in her, she will keep leaving you stranded. Hell, she won't even hesitate to leave your hapless ass stranded and cold in the middle of Christmas. As the years pass and age takes it's toll...the body kit starts to sag..and you start to realize that no matter how much you soup up this Pinto. it's still a Pinto.

Foot-In-Mouth Syndrome Appears To Be A Chronic Illness For Me....

I've taken to watching the news in the very early morning during my
breaks. I like to get my daily dose of national and local tragedy
before anyone else does. I'm that D-bag who kindly informs everyone
on your contacts list about the latest A-list celebrity death before
you get a chance to have the satisfaction of doing it yourself.

This particular morning, I found myself overcome with the type of
giggles normally reserved for when I'm watching The Big Bang Theory.....and not because the entire cast of Glee was flattened by a steamroller earlier today.***

No, it was the ads in between the news reports. Sure, most of them
were appropriate enough for the morning edition of the news. Ads for
coffee, breakfast cereals.......depression medication (Having to
trade the warmth of one's bed during the winter in favor of being
perched over a monitor for the next 8 hours will bring ANYONE to the
brink of depression.) .

What struck me as odd it the unusual amount of ads for Vagisil Wash in between the news reports. Don't get me wrong...I'm glad the eradication of vagina funkiness has entered the public
consciousness enough to merit re-curring ads during the morning
edition of the news. It's about time us women are given equal air
time to talk about our genitals and THEIR dysfunctions through
overzealous actors! (Perhaps some sort of affirmative action ruling brought this about?)

Nevertheless, I find myself eyeing this recent development with
suspicion. When did taking additional measures in vagina cleansing become a top priority in the morning routines of American women? Why has this not been made into a PSA
(Public Service Announcement)?

"Attention American women, please remember to deodorize your vaginas
before commencing your workday today. You'll be sitting cross
legged in a cubicle all morning long..be a good cubicle neighbor and
please deodorize...."

aaaaaaaand I'm sure at this point, I could just ramble on about The
View, Lillith Fair and shoes for another 3 paragraphs and no one
would complain.It's safe to assume any menfolk who may had been
reading this entry, stopped reading a couple of paragraphs ago..]

So, I naturally wondered what scents are available for this product. It would be nice to be able to infuse the air around me with the scent of "birthday cake" or
"morning sea breeze" every time I open my legs.

<-Pictured. What I expected of my vagina after Vagisil Wash.Not Pictured. My disappointment.

I looked through the website. No such luck. The only scent available is 'Light and Clean". What the hell does that even mean? Pfft.

Before you start forwarding that the cast of Glee was steamrolled to everyone on your contacts list, I should probably inform you that............it was not.***

I saw no reason to put on pants this morning...

It's a liberating feeling, being on my own again. Going to the bathroom with the door open.... bobbing my head up and down around my apartment scratching invisible records to the tune of rap magnate Grandmaster flash with no elastic waistband to restrict my movements. Now I see why pantsless cultures always look so jolly on the National Geographic Channel. The undercarriage draft is very real and very pleasant. Many notable Americans have snubbed pants....

Okay, so they're all cartoons...but....but.........

bows head* touche...touche...

I thought about how nice it would be to have my own town...like this lady.... Seriously, This lady has her own town, all to herself.


Ah, my town would be awesome. The uniform for Pizza delivery guys would be Ninja Turtles costumes, movie theaters would have separate seating arrangements the way smokers used to have their own sections....only these seating arrangements would be divided into " Here To Actually Watch The Movie", "We're Not Even Sure What Movie's Playing...We Just Needed a Dark Place To Make Out", and "Won't Shut The Fuck Up".........and of course pants not required.

I walked into the library today and clutched a book tightly against my chest while I fantasized what it would be like for the library to invest enough faith in me to entrust one of these book things in my care again.....just kidding. I paid my fines .....I had half expected to see a sepia toned "WANTED" sign with my picture on it on the wall of the library somewhere. You see, I have been receiving several stern reminders in the mail informing me that I had overstayed my welcome at the wonderful world of Metropolis (A Superman comic being the overdue book in question )....I can't find the book.... and to a librarian, this is a crime slightly less reprehensible than genocide. I've made enough origami out of these late notice letters to fashion an entire origami dress for Lady Gaga's next VMA appearance....These letters would be so much more compelling if they were penned on Lisa Frank stationery and gave the appearance of being written by Sideshow Bob (when I think "murderous librarian" I think Sideshow Bob.)

3rd letter
" We have a large print copy of War and Peace at our disposal. It is very heavy and it has very sharp corners. it's perfect for smothering or bludgeoning. You can't stay awake forever.......We're just saying.....Please return your copy of "Chicken Soup for the Soul" within the next 30 days."

4th letter
" We know where you live you cheap bastard. We have matches and a gas can. If you value your life, and the lives of your wife and children...you will return "Chicken Soup for the Soul"or pay for it's replacement immediately. We don't give a fuck. We won't even bother wearing ski masks. We're LIBRARIANS. No jury would convict us."

Seriously though, threats of excommunication made to pedophile priests are taken more seriously than the current threat letters the library sents out.

I suppose I could buy a kindle with all the money I've spent on library fines over the years... However, I spent my formative years in South Central L.A. Here books were valued for the protection they provided as shields against shanks in addition to providing paths to enlightenment. I'll brave the paper cuts.

Hump Day Hilarity*

*Disclaimer: While every effort is made to deliver said hilarity. Hilarity is not guaranteed. Some settling of contents may occur, and amount of laughter may vary from reader to reader. Author assumes no responsibility for errands reader may procrastinate while reading this post.


So, my BK cashier of 2 months announced today that she is leaving me for another BK. Graveyard workers share a special bond. Not only will I miss our conversations about life while the rest of the world sleeps. The new guy doesen't yet posses the culinary expertise to master EVEN Jalapeno distributiuon on a Whopper. You know what I mean? There's a clusterfuck of Jalapenos on one corner, and the rest of the burger is barren. It's like navigating a Jalapeno landmine with your mouth. You take one bite and groan because you think they forgot your Jalapenos. Yet, It's too late to turn around. So you keep munching through your Whopper and taking sips of your drink in between bites. By the time you get to that last jalapeno stuffed bite...most of your drink is gone. On that surprise scalding bite, you're scrambling for your cell and getting the fire department on the phone. I'm like an R-rated Ricky Ricardo when I experience unexpected pain or delays in traffic. All kinds of Spanish swear words will pour out. I'll even make up new ones and rhyme that shit, "hijo de su....PUTA-BRON CHINGON MAMON!".

I try to avoid Fast food, but I do indulge in WHopper Wednesdays. Mostly because I hate Wednesdays, and it gives me something to look forward to on Wednesdays. I'm just glad I don't have a personal trainer I have to confess my caloric surplus sins to. I can only imagine our exchange:


"Forgive me Inge for I have sinned. I had a Whopper Value Meal on the Eve of
Wednesday the 29th."


"Your penance shall be 2 celery stalks and 50 Jumping Jacks."





<--This is what a personal trainer looks like right? All I know about personal trainers is what I saw watching exercise videos growing up. I've only seen them in captivity, who knows what they look like out in the wild.

Oh, right. I'm supposed to be blogging about my day....

'Have you ever been halfway through a home improvement project and feared ahead of time that you're setting yourself up for a Darwin award? Screw driver in my mouth, hammer in one hand. I'm grasping this wobbly table by it's 2 legs like some clown at a gay rodeo trying to put a pair of panties on a goat.

This is how i saw myself at the beginning of the project.:

This is how I saw myself halfway through :

<-but with Spanish cussing...

However, despite a few setbacks and a swollen thumb.....I'm happy to report that the table is tabling it up and the door is happy being a door again. :)

It's A Large World After All....

It has occured to me that I never really blog about my life as promised in the description..but, what is there to say?...other people's lives are always more interesting than my own...What did I do today? Let's see, I went out and bought enough provisions to last me through a Russian winter. If you must know, I have amassed enough Tampons to plug the BP oil leak out in the Gulf Coast.....

So, maybe one day I'll wax poetic about milk expiration dates or pitch a sit-com idea for a show about 'nothing' to CBS..but for now...I'll stick to what I've always done best, whatever that is....



<-and besides...I'd look terrible with a Jew-fro.

Candidates are always courting the black vote, the hispanic vote..... but what about the FAT vote? That's at least 30 % of the population. Hell, I'd win by a landslide in the South if I could sway that demographic!

It's no secret our collective girth is expaning..no matter how much we try to conceal our obesity by taking pictures in extreme overhead angles for our social networking profiles...

We're also becoming increasingly complacent with our predicament. ..There's even a soap opera on the latino channel Univision featuring a large female protagonsit called, "Llena de amor"(Full of Love). I haven't seen it, but I'm thinking it features the Cheetos Cheetah as her romantic co-star? I will have to ask my mom...

You know who I haven't heard about in awhile? Calista Flockhart. I have a sinking feeling that she fell into someone's 20 layer bean dip somewhere and was accidentally eaten last year. The world may never know.

I can't say "eating right" is not tough though. Bacon is the duct tape of food. You can wrap almost any subpar dish in bacon and fix it. One look at food porn website thisiswhyyourefat.com will make you want to disembowel your fridge and whip up one of these abominations.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100923/ap_on_he_me/eu_oecd_getting_fatter

We're getting bigger...and yet, our cars are getting smaller..When I first saw the 'smart car'..I thought some bored redneck had souped up a bumper car. Well, that story of those eggheads that drove across America with tanks full of cooking grease from fast food joints certainly gained considerable notorierity. Yet, the media almost largely ignored this one:

http://news.injuryboard.com/plastic-surgeon-turned-body-fat-into-fuel.aspx?googleid=253970

Yes, your love handles could be fueling your morning commute as we speak! My agenda: government liposuction clinics installed at select gas stations. I know it sounds like yet another one of my crackpot schemes..but it can't possibly be much more impractical than the government's "Cash for Clunker's" flop. I don't see McDonald's dropping the Big Mac off the menu anytime soon, so this will be as renewable of an energy source as it gets. I need to start campaigning at buffets and SUV dealerships as soon as I find a running mate. My only real concern is the diet pill cartels putting out a mob hit on me. If I am ever assasinated, question Jillian Michaels first.

Facebook,Vegan Lesbians...and other pervasive social phenomena that stagger my imagination.

Sorry, No pics this time. I needed sleep. Biological functions come first.

Remember those days when we dreaded an invitation from our neighbors to watch their vapid vacation slide shows? What followed was an agonizing half hour of CLICK-CLICK all delivered in a monotone voice that made Al Gore sound like John Madden in comparison. Damn, I never knew an African safari could be so boring. Pictures of the same damn thing in different angles....."Umm...This is the same picture?....Oh, I see. You're smirking on your left side instead of your right side in this one....Well this one-.....oh I see. You cast your shadow slightly more to the east."............Until you finally can't take it anymore. You start thinking those Guantanamo detainees had it easy....."What are you? a fuckin' sundial. Didn't you pose anywhere else?"
.....Sigh..but what about these days? These days...we scramble to click on those "kewl nu club pix" as soon as they hit our Facebook feed... 30 pics of the same friends you see every weekend-but sweating profusely and in slightly different bad lighting in each shot... Are we really this bored as a society??

http://guestofaguest.com/jersey-shore/how-to-throw-a-jersey-shore-party/

"like. O.m.g! will this be BYOSTD? (Bring Your Own STD)........Do I get a complimentary Guidette slap upon entrance? lol. jk."

One use old folks may derive from Facebook:.....excellent way to keep track of names when Alzheimer's kicks in....click on a picture matching the description of the person standing in from of you and Ta-Da!

So many of the more quirky, interesting lesbians are vegan...This creates some friction when it comes to dining choices....dinner and a movie suddenly become eating-at-home-before-I-pick-you-up and a movie. I don't just have to worry about whether I'm wearing too much cologne now....Noo...now I also have to worry about whether I smell like a Whopper. I am who I am from the beginning..I'm not the type to simmer silently through dates filled with every possible condimentation of tofu and suddenly blurt out one day, "Bitch. I like steak!" So, I tend to voice my preferences for rare and medium rare from the beginning......I'm sorry. No broad is worth me giving up my George Foreman Grill. Don't get me wrong. I like tofu just fine. I'll eat a tofu stir fry lunch any day...as long as it's accompanied by a grilled carcass of some sort later than night...

Some 7 year old-ish boy at Wal-Mart was tugging at his mom's sleeve the other day, insisting that she get him a pink Justin Bieber shirt......Aw, Isn't that adorable?......better start reserving a rental for 2 tuxedos at prom...and you better start reassuring the kid that he doesn't HAVE to be a cosmetologist or member of a boy band when he grows up.

What's that called again....stream of consciousness?

I'm listening to my dad prophesize doom for mankind again. I need to get him a"The End Is Near" apron w/accompanying bell gift set already....
Most kids are dissapointed when that fairy tale web of lies their parents spun to shield them from the real world unravels...
You know, fairy tales about Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy and your job prospects increasing as you collect degrees and certificates like Pokemon cards. Not me. My bedtime stories weren't about princesses and animal husbandry, they were cautionary tales about bearded men in aviator sunglasses with windowless vans that I shouldn't get into.


"Dad. the world is still here. You told me the world would be engulfed in nuclear winter by now...and yet, these homo-sapiens persist in their drive for survival... undaunted by the widening class gap and ubiquitous use of the word "tweeting. I'm dissapointed. You lied to me....".........Alas,but who am I to judge you old man? I have more scars than a lion tamer,and more ups and downs than the real estate market...You had it right all along..You may be a chocolate chip cookie, and I may be a Cinnamon raisin cookie, but we are kneaded from the same batter...


Whatcha you looking at? Oh, not like YOU'VE never had a beer out of a Spiderman sippy cup. I have to get up early for the AIDS walk tomorrow...it was either this or Children's Nyquil out of a shot glass. Perhaps you envy my predicament, is it because there are floating, beer soaked peach slices in this sippy cup? This is, after all, a Shock Top.....the beer that turns citrus fruits into taste-bud kamikazes.......


Like Forrest Gump, I have been running since I came to the realization that I could. Running away from nothing in particular, and running towards no particular destination at the same time.


I listen to hip-hop alot more these days. Rock these days is a choice between that pretentions hipster crap or the razorblade-in-place-of-a-prize in my breakfast cereal crap. What happened to the jolly punk of yore?Ah, the Adicts.....Sarcasm. Gleeful Madness. There is nothing more candid than pessimism with a smile.


It's like you know you're decaying, yet you do everything you can to stave off the oxidation of those cells of yours...but immortality can't be achieved by prolonging the elasticity of your dermis...only your brain's surplus musings imprinted onto digital format can bring you immortality.

.....and tonight, I was curious about whatever happened to Blink 182??...They were by no means the Beatles of my generation, but at least they used to make me want to release a bunch of wayward doves in an auto dealership .........no doubt to defecate onto Lexuses. (<-"Rock Show") ...........or prank calling some poor chode's wife to inform her that the state looks down on sodomy (<-"What's my age again?").

...But now their lyrics are so fucking depressing. Holy snazzleberry..Doesen't that shit just make you want to coat your body in honey and shoot the nearest beehive with a fully auto BB gun...... or pie Brock Lesnar in the face?...either one would be considered suicide.


I haven't felt like this in ages. I love it.

Somedays. I wish 7-up still contained Lithium......
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lithium_pharmacology

I'm sorry people, but until Megan Fox has established her acting credentials in legitimatelly noteworthy films ...she is still the poor man's Angelina Jolie. A cheap Louis Vuitton bag knock off.

"My mom always knew I was gonna grow up to be a fudge packer"...

He he...I recently prank called the Willy Wonka Line to inquire about their "Fudge Packer" job position...I figured such an inquiry would seem innocuous at first, given the nature of the comany's business...aaaand it did....The lady on the other line didn't catch on just what sort of "fudge packing" I was referring to until I started mentioning the spandex....Now, if you follow my blog, you know some of my entries tend towards being of a.....controversial nature...okay,most of them do....
So, If you feel it might offend your sensibilities..don't listen..Save the drama for yo momma...and if for some reason..you're been living in a subterranean bomb shelter since the Cold War and are not familiar with the fact that the term "Fudge Packer" is now mostly used to refer to something other than putting chocolate goo in a container...

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=fudge-packer

you've been warned...enjoy!

Woo! Team Gary!

At the risk of incurring the wrath of chubby suburban housewives all over the mid-west...

I must admit that I vehemently dislike Twilight..

1. It fails as a vampire movie. I've seen Simpson's Halloween Special Episodes that are scarier than Twilight...



<--- Compared to Twilight....THIS is terror personified.

2. It fails as a romance. What's so romantic about older bunny-blood drinking sociopaths preying on socially anxious girls with daddy issues? Many "romantic tales" start like that in AOL Chatrooms across America...and they usually don't end well...

Okay.I retract my statement that it fails as a romance...Romance novels are ALL like that. I would know. I grew up reading many a book with shirtless grunts ripping the bodices of semi-willing damsels on the cover. Our protagonists are always from 2 different backgrounds..He's a cowboy,she's an Indian. She's a Jedi, He's a Sith. Whatever. There isn't a minority that hasn't been exploited for the sake of injecting a submission- dominance element into the story by Zebra Romance books.

And they're always the same..

She hates him in the beginning. She always does.
He persists undaunted. She resists his advances coyly.
He eventually gets sick of chasing her and goes and flirts with other chicks.
She's becomes jealous and goes and flirts with other dudes in retaliation.
The tension builds up. They eventually find themselves alone with each other. Something or other happens and they fall back into each other's arms.
They have a lavish wedding and 3 kids named Diamond, Hawk, and Bronco.Respectively.
The other innocent bystanders they seduced to make each other jealous either end up alone and pissed off and are never mentioned in the novel again.... or hook they up with each other and are mentioned at length to silence the cynical quips of people like me.

Romance is fucked up.

Hmm...Perhaps this Twilight saga is kind of a realistic indictment of romance, wrapped in a vampire analogy...Folks, I am not bitter. Not in the least.lol.


But. I digress. My reason for writing this blog was not to elaborate on the reasons for my disinterest in a two-dimensional romance novel. Everybody already knows I view romance in a
Nelson-Muntzian sense...

.


No. The intention of this blog it to bring to light a disturbing fact I've unearthed.....

100 year old sparkly dudes with tousled up-do's and strong jawlines who dig underage girls are nothing new....haha. Behold, dun-dun-dun, Gary Glitter.....The original Edward!



(Yes,I photoshopped that)

A short bio of Gary Glitter, and you'll see what I mean:
http://www.nndb.com/people/600/000022534/




<---The sad thing. With his cape and upturned, Dracula-like collar... Gary Glitter looks more like a vampire and more bad ass than the emaciated Robert Pattison...

A Prank Call I made to Babies R' us about having received a brown baby

(Contains explicit content that may be offensive to some, but it's not much different than something you would see on a Family Guy type of show on any given night...and before you get your panties up in a bunch, I AM brown...)

So you can't hear what she says as well..but she just says routine things, she asks for my order number, then my name.I don't think she catches up that I'm not asking about things FOR a baby, but an ACTUAL baby until the very end..Either way, it's my first prank call I've published to vid..so bear with me as I work out the kinks ;)

"I placed an order for a baby.
It's in decent working condition. It cries and it giggles.
There's only one problem...It's brown and I ordered the white one.."

I'm no Salman Rushdie, but. I do have photoshop.

Apparently, there are several international versions of Maxim magazine to be found in unlikely places. There's even an Indian version of Maxim! I imagine it to contain all the Henna clad, Patchouli reeking beauties you can handle...and TODDY reviews instead of beer reviews.
There are only 3 things that can get into the most dictator loving,war waging, child starving corners of the world 1.Angelina Jolie 2.Gameshows 3.Maxim

So, these days, we are incessantly reassured that we pretty much got this Iraq thing in the bag....Westernization has already begun to change the landscape, albeit slowly. Sadly, this is not the case in our other war theater, Afghanistan.In fact, Obama recently had to order the withdrawal of fast food chains from Afghanistan.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/03/26/at-war-military-orders-wi_n_514566.html

Pfft.Shabbily constructed armor on tanks is one thing. This Whopper Deprivation Act is just letting the terrorists win.

ANYWAY, back to Iraq...Naturally, the westernization of Iraq and the far-reaching influence of Maxim magazine made me wonder how Maxim would fare if dragged kicking and screaming through an Iraqi publisher's printer.So I made this in photoshop.(click on it if you have a hard time reading the print)

So I FINALLY finished watching 'Precious'..

I finally finished watching all of Precious, in no less than 4 installments, a couple of days ago. I can rarely watch a movie all the way through. I have the attention span of a goldfish. The following is an exhaustive chronology of the events comprising a typical movie watching experience for me:

Day 1

1. Pop in film. Take an interest in a particular, previously unseen trailer. Pause Film.
2. Go read more about film in said trailer on Rotten.com for reviews.
3. Resume film. Watch about 15 minutes of film. Get a sudden craving for hummus and poppy seed crackers.
4.Realize I'm out of crackers. I can't have hummus without some sort of dipping apparatus. It's perverted and unnatural.
5.Pause film. Drive to store for crackers. Get distracted by newest Tinseltown 'Splits and Hook ups'. For the next 20 minutes: push an empty shopping card aimlessly through the narrow isles while engrossed in an issue of Us magazine. Occasionally bump into ostentatious displays of soda pop.
6. Arrive home. Wonder why the hell I'm holding a box of crackers.
7. Google the words "undiagnosed A.D.D."

Day 2

1. Turn on TV. Realize there is a DVD still in the player from the previous day.
2. Resume watching film for 15 minutes. Wince in disgust/Weep ever so slightly/Laugh uproariously. Pause film to share insight with my brother.
3. Exclaim: "dude you gotta see this! This is the (fill in the blank)
[A]Coolest decapitation scene I've seen
[B] Deepest quote I've heard
[C] Funniest shit Kevin Smith has put out
.....in awhile!
4. Resume film. Receive incoming text about funny Youtube sensation that I "just have to check out"
5. Pause film. Proceed to watch this "funny Youtube sensation I just have to check out"
6. Soooomehow...(whether it makes me convulse with laughter or smirk with mild amusement.) I always end up clicking on 'related videos".
7. Get stuck in "Youtube loop".

Day 3

1. Earthquake in a under-privileged part of the world. Feel guilty about having indoor plumbing and horseless carriages. Neglect enjoying all my developed world comforts for the rest of the day.

Day 4

1. Drive by video store. Get the urge to rent something. Realize I already have a half-watched movie at home. Grumble to myself. Drive home to consume the rest of the film before starting a new one.
2. Watch 20 minutes of film.
3. Mandatory nude scene comes on. Masturbate.
4. Feel silly for masturbating to an innocent locker room shower scene.
5.Resent my idle hands
6. Crucify myself to wall with duct tape.
7. Now that I'm immobilized... finally watch the rest of the film.


Unlike the time it took me to watch the film..I can summarize Precious in 4 tweets:

1. Mariah Carey sports a mustache and still looks pretty hot after 2 Coronas.
2. Underdog from 2+ minority groups? CHECK. Succeeds despite insurmountable odds? CHECK = The Academy loves ya baby.
3. There's this one scene where these guys push her on the street, and she falls with a deafening thud. It's kind of fucked up. You're not allowed to laugh...but you can laugh at this OTHER fat, black chick falling instead!

4.A bunch of people die from AIDS. AIDS jokes are not funny....unless they're told on Family Guy.

The Political Chop Shop or The Telepromter-gate saga continues

I couldn't decide between the 2 headlines. So I went with both.

Why the "political chop shop"?

The political arena in general, reminds me of a seedy chop shop. Lots of de-co and re-construction. Although, I imagine the deconstruction that occurs in speech writing is more of the Derrida variety than The Sopranos variety. Either way, in the end, its still the same ole' beat up Camaro- but with a new alternator!....Public officials parroting the same populist line, but using different pretty words. It's like a game of refrigerator magnet poetry, but no matter what the outcome of the game, it always leads to more poor people getting fucked over. Blah,blah. The tea party, The coffee party...perhaps a "Red Bull party" is soon to come. Although,I imagine the more- caffeinated-than-thou Red Bull Party will shun the previous platforms altogether and circulate petitions for things like raising stripper's wages. Hmmmm, I can get behind that. Yes, we can.Yes, we can!


(Change I can believe in.)

I also imagine Red Bull Party conventions would be the only ones to end with a "final thought" from Chairman Jerry Springer.This isn't a such a stretch of the imagination either. The guy WAS the mayor of Cincinnati at one point.

Why "The Teleprompter-gate Saga Continues?"

Because any self- respecting scandal always attaches the word "gate" to the end of it's name. E.g. Watergate,Climategate,Troopergate.

Anyway, now that I've explained the reasons behind my dilemma between titles...
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Where do we get off chastising politicians for doing what we do everyday?

You make grocery lists.

You use flash cards.

You Wikipedia cut-and-paste motha fuckers.

I know. I know. They're politicians. They're supposed to be these demi-goods with instant recall and Hydra slaying abilities...I don't think so.
Besides, politicians of that caliber have so much to do and remember every day. They don't even have time to TiVo Jersey Shore. That's how busy they are. They have much more to worry about than frantically trying to find the Spark Notes version of Catcher in the Rye after one too many games of Beer Pong the previous night. I'm looking in your direction Delta Tau Chi boy!


(You. The average college student. According to Hollywood.)

Let's stick to the issues at hand,shall we? Besides, there is so much more to raise a picket sign about with this administration. We could talk more about the blatant nepotism he used when it came to appointing Czars to his cabinet and beyond...or we could talk about how he's emblazoning every food stamp with his likeness.Wait, the latter one hasn't happened yet.
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So, Teleprompter-gate continues, and it brings me to the most recent scandal. A scandal involving one politician who is no stranger to controversy, Mrs. Sarah Palin:

Sarah Palin: God wrote on his hand too

http://voices.washingtonpost.com/44/2010/03/sarah-palin-god-wrote-on-his-h.html?wprss=44

Yes. I'm sure that's how it all went down.

I can imagine God on Sunday, still exhausted from creating humans and scattering clues about his future son's life for Dan Brown to find....

So, He looks at the crib notes He wrote on His palm the previous day, but His palm is all sweaty...the instructions for Day 7 all smeared.

He sighs and thinks: "okay, okay, day 7: Gah.. gah.. gahrble..mufasa? ...ahh...forget it....It's my day off, I'm not even supposed to be here..."

So then, He pulls out his iPhone...looks through His contacts....Thinks to Himself..

"hmm. That Lucifer. Real quiet guy, always complaining that someone keeps stealing his stapler..but he seems like a real up-and-commer. I'll give him a shot.."


(Lucifer. According to eyewitness accounts from Mike and Gabe, The guys in the PR department. This was taken long before he quit,or got fired-depending on who you talk to.)

So He proceeds to dial the 666 on his speed-dial:

"Yo,Lucifer. Hey, It's God.I didn't get much sleep last night..and I still have all kinds of things to create on this other planet in the Andromeda galaxy. Can you cover my shift today?

Pause.

"no, no, this planet earth is all done. It just needs some proof reading and editing...."

Of course Lucifer,this "real quiet guy",goes on to burn the place down Office Space style.This just goes to show you, there are certain tasks that management should never delegate to their subordinates...especially subordinates with grudges.

Finding My Niche

Should I blog about my keen political observations as planned?
haha, with my next blog titled something like, "My Big Fat Greek Economic Crisis" ?

Or should I go the self-indulgent route and blog about my "unique American experience"
I'm a geeky, latina lesbian with a Republican bent when it comes to politics. I suppose that provides quite a bit of fodder for subject matter.
Hmm..so,I was examining my fat deposits in the mirror after I got out of shower the other day... I can't for the life of me get rid of my FUPA.* Yes, of course I've tried Pilates. The fuckin' fairy Godmother from Cinderella could not make my FUPA disappear with a wave of her wand. Although I'm sure she could make it sing "bippity-boppity-boop"... Gah! why did I just picture the fairy Godmother naked.....that was so very very wrong. That was worse than the image of Kathy Bates in About Schmidt. This naked fairy Godmother mental image severed the last lingering thread of my childhood innocence.
So, back to the topic at hand..finding my Niche...hmm. So, like I said...being latina and geeky...I grew up being a fan of both Sabado Gigante and the magic school bus. I'm probably one of the only people in the world who thinks "La Cuatro" would be an awesome substitute teacher on The Magic School Bus if Ms. Frizzle ever found herself unable to teach the class due to swine flu:

haha....La Cuatro! ..."Me dijeron que cuidara mucho el cuckoo!." - "They told me to take good care care of my 'cuckoo'!"

....Don't mess with the woman's cuckoo.

I can imagine her beginning a field trip with something like this:

"Hola ninos! Olvidense del cheto! Hoy exploraremos el estomago de Arnold despues de comerse un burrito supreme con chile extra picante! Y esta vez saldremos por el cuckoo! esto es lo que pasa cuando no cuidas tu cuckoo."

"Hello kids! Forget the cheeto! Today we shall explore Arnold's stomach after he's eaten a burrito supreme with extra spicy sauce! This time we'll come out of the cuckoo. This is what happens when you don't take care of your cuckoo!"

haha.That's gross.

Blah, at the risk of alienating one potential audience base or another, I may just do a little bit of everything....


*(<-Asterisks as promised.) If you don't know what that is, look it up in UrbanDictionary.com. I swear, these days, more people look up words in UrbanDictionary than the real dictionary.


Haha, suck it Webster.

Speaking of which. I want to go back in time and kick Noah Webster in the balls, just to see which one of the thousands of words in the dictionary he would utter to convey surprise.

You've Reached The Confessional Hotline..

*Chorus of angels* "You've reached the confessional hotline. A product of the church's ongoing effort to remain relevant in the lives of 21st century catholics. In order to ensure a swift salvation. Please enter the number corresponding to the commandment you've broken. Press 0 for the 10th. Press # for "other"........*pause*...................Thank You! All of our clergy are currently assisting other sinners. Stay on the line. Please use this time to recite Hail Mary's and repent with more conviction...BEEP"

Michael Cera Is A Robot

Somewhere in between making quirky indie comedies about jaded twenty-somethings and showing the world how funny teen pregnancy can be... the facade will fall..whether it's a subtle flicker of an LED in the corner of your eye....or a quick spray of Wd-40 under your arm....your guard will slip, and when it does, I will be there to expose you..





Kraftwerk - Robots(Oshee's robotic mash up) by Oshee



While the flash of a camera would scramble the circuits of lesser robots..not so with you..


Photo after photo..


That dead pan stare never changes!!



...such structural rigidity can only be achieved 2 ways...1. Botox 2. an underlying steel bone structure...

When our robot overlords from the future send a Terminator to the past
to annihilate us. He won't look like Ahnuld.That would be far too
obvious...no, my friends, he will look like the common hipster....









^
^
One bad movie away from blowing up a playground..

Try Masturbation

hahaha...some humor for these hard times of ours...goll,I love the day before my day off..I have time to do what I really love....and that of course is WRITING!
----------------------------------------------------------------


Your recent pay cut got ya bummed?


That pile of bills got you tossing and turning at night?


Has your wife been putting "IT" off since you were LAYED OFF?
(.....and your is kid is beginning to look more and more like the the pool boy everyday..)


Did your insurance company find a "loophole" and decide to deny continued coverage of your sleep medication prescription?



You're gonna have to get some shut-eye somehow.


and we're here to help...


Try..............


Masturbation ™ before bed!

Just ONE dose of Masturbation ™ before bed puts you down like a tranquilized grizzly bear after a rampage at a state park campsite.

So if you wanna PASS OUT....

try and

"RUB ONE OUT".......

Give Masturbation™ a try today!

THIS guy wishes he would've tried Masturbation™!



and..you don't wanna end up like THIS guy.



He doesen't do the messy chore before a snore!

Masturbation™ is not for everyone. Please consult your doctor before using Masturbation™ to see if Masturbation™ is right for you. Do not use Masturbation™ if you have a history of heart disease, nosy roommates,have excessively long nails,or are trying to win a bet by proving you are "Master of Your Domain".

Side effects of Masturbation™ may include exclusive hypertrophy of the muscles of the right forearm...and permanent "O face".





~Just for Chuckles and Chortles....by Lou~

nothing cheers me up quite like posting joke personal ads on Craigslist

Nothing.

"May contain peanuts."

Ever wondered who lobbied the FDA to include this label on those snacks you so non-chalantly devour? That's Right. ;)
As a child, I had to regard each trick or treat fun-size bar I pulled out of my makeshift sack as a potential chocolate-covered poison dart that could put me in a coma.Few know the pain. I am good looking-save for the pencil sized trachaectomy scar on my neck.
I'm looking for a woman who can administer my Epi shots with all the grace and prestige of a Mayo clinic nurse.I share a swanky, dust-free apartment with my two hypo-allergenic cats: Sniffles and Atchoo. Some women collect shoes, i collect dust masks. I have a stylish, sickle and hammer bearing, red HEPA that was used by China's Premier, Wen Jiabao, during the S.A.R.S. epidemic! So, I may not be able to join you in blowing the seeds off dandelions in the springtime.....but on the plus side, I'll never ask for flowers for Valentine's Day...."