That guy still hasn’t taken down the pants song. I’m taking applications for guest mp3s. Application is too formal of a word–record yourself, email it to me, and if it meets my high standards (i.e. no fart jokes) I’ll put it up. Maybe if enough people do this, I’ll put out a CD.
I used the word booger in a cover letter.
And I’m proud of it.
That’s what the big boys call job hunting, biatches.
We’ll all witnessed this scene one too many times.
(Thank Jesus this isn’t ironic.)
life - hope = despair
despair - hope = super bad-ass despair
despair + hope = false hope, a.k.a. “The Shakespeare Sucka Punch”
despair / 2 = apathy
despair / 4 = longing
life + (hope/8) = Powerball ticket
life + (despair/8) = Powerball ticket
life * hope = amphetamines
life + (hope * hope) + despair = Little Orphan Annie
life / 2 = real life
life ≠ The Real World
Some jackass directly linked to an mp3 on my server and set his web page up to play the file every time someone visits his page. As you can guess, this is a slight drain on my bandwidth. So I replaced the file with another one. You can hear it on his web page, or, if he has taken it down already, here.
I discovered a way to rate the obnoxiousness of a person. This epiphany was accidental. I find few people obnoxious, and I have never thought, “Sure, this guy is annoying, but how annoying?”
Yet I made the discovery while watching Charlie Rose interview Quentin Tarantino. I hate Quentin Tarantino, the person. Quentin Tarantino, the writer/director, is very skilled and has an interesting way of looking at the world. Quentin Tarantino, the person, is a pig-faced, megalomaniac who must have been a Benedict monk as a child because he can’t shut up now. I watched a bit of the interview, rolled my eyes a few times, and grabbed the remote. Right before I was going to change the channel, I thought, “Wow, he’s pretty interesting.”
At this moment, this exact moment, my wine glass was ¼ full. The principle that I knew intuitively from parties took concrete root in my life. One can listen to Quentin Tarantino without punching the TV after ¾ of a glass of wine.
I was shocked that it only took ¾ of a glass, but the evidence was irrefutable. I watched the rest of the interview, 45 minutes, although I had to drink wine during the interview to keep my alcohol level constant, 1 and ¼ glasses, for a total of 2 glasses. Taking these results together, I composed an ODI (Obnoxious Drunkenness Index) for Tarantino:
Alcohol needed for initial de-obnoxiousification: ¾ of a glass of wine
Alcohol needed for continued de-obnoxiousification: 5/36 of a glass of wine per 5 minutes
Obviously, the measurements in this scale are relative, based on body weight, tolerance of alcohol, and hatred for humanity. But it could be an invaluable took for wish to describe their annoyance for a person more accurately:
“I hate Tarantino. His ODI is four beers, and that’s when I’m in a good mood.”
“I kind of like Tarantino. A shot of Jager and he’s fine by me.”
“Ohhhhh…I drank half a bottle of Tequila and then watched the entire State of the Union address. Why do I do this to myself?”
Hell Boy Is It Good
The Punisher: Must See Movie!…For Guantamano Bay Prisoners
Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed. Remember “Scooby Doo 1″ where a poorly animated dog and a group of plastic characters plodded through a wooden script that bored kids and sucked the marrow out of whatever pleasant memories adults may have had about the characters? Oh, you don’t? Then see this movie!
The Alamo: Ala-so-so
The Whole Ten Yards: The One Yard of Crap Really Makes a Difference When You Add It To Nine Yards of Shit
The Prince & Me: Pretty Woman Training Bra
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
‘The Man’ Sucks; Kaufman Rocks
I risk jail time to show this to you, but it is worth it. I just saw this exchange of comments about a post I wrote last week about Bush’s press conference. I don’t know who wrote the second and fourth comments, but thank you for being the oil on the comedy wheel.
And Mr. Fitzgerald, my Republican friend who threatened to sue me over the horrid crime committed against him, you’re going to love this. Ready? Here it is:
Bring. It. On.
(In Mr. Fitzgerald’s defense, I will say this: he has impeccable grammar.)
Washington Post Headlines!
War May Require More Money Soon
War is like a college kid.
Iraq’s Olympic Leader Faces Herculean Tasks
Slaying hydra, holding world up just preliminaries
Fed Head’s Upbeat Report Stirs Fears
Disembodied head makes investors uneasy
MCI Must Keep Hold on Customers
Potential roadblock: “Must Keep Customers on Hold” policy.
AOL Chief to Focus on Growth
Contrast from previous chief, James “I’m Taking This Company Down With Me” Penzon.
New Darth Vader Costume on DVD
Costume shrunk, shaped into doughnut.
The last paragraph in this excerpt from Bob Woodward’s new book is hilarious.
On Jan. 10, a Wednesday morning 10 days before the inauguration, Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, national security adviser Condoleezza Rice and Powell went to the Pentagon to meet with Cohen. Afterward, Bush and his team went downstairs to the Tank, the secure domain and meeting room for the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
Two generals briefed them on the state of the no-fly zone enforcement. No-fly zone enforcement was dangerous and expensive. Multimillion-dollar jets were put at risk bombing 57mm antiaircraft guns. Hussein had warehouses of them. As a matter of policy, was the Bush administration going to keep poking Hussein in the chest? Was there a national strategy behind this, or was it just a static tit for tat?
Lots of acronyms and program names were thrown around — most of them familiar to Cheney, Rumsfeld and Powell, who had spent 35 years in the Army and been chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff from 1989 to 1993. President-elect Bush asked some practical questions about how things worked, but he did not offer or hint at his desires.
The Joint Chiefs’ staff had placed a peppermint at each place. Bush unwrapped his and popped it into his mouth. Later he eyed Cohen’s mint and flashed a pantomime query, Do you want that? Cohen signaled no, so Bush reached over and took it. Near the end of the hour-and-a-quarter briefing, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, Army Gen. Henry H. Shelton, noticed Bush eyeing his mint, so he passed it over.
“McDonald’s Corp. Chairman and Chief Executive Jim Cantalupo died of an apparent heart attack on Monday in Florida….” (article from Yahoo)
Rob, of Sheffield, South Yorks, told The Sun: “I was reading it on a break and suddenly I saw the word ‘t**t’.
Imagine the embarrassment of a mum whose six-year-old son is asking her what a ‘t**t’ is?”
Adidas put an advert in a British newspaper to promote the London Marathon. The ad is made up of thousands of thoughts in small type from runners. Rob of Sheffield, South Yorks, is understandably furious that some of these thoughts have naughty bits in them.
Actually, he’s not understandably furious. What the hell is a “t**t”? A toot? A teet? A tart? I know what a tart is. It’s a delicious, cream-filled pastry. Why is this embarrassing to explain to a six-year-old son? Is Mum on the Atkins diet?
If I had a six-year-old that could read pages of 8-pt. type and then ask, “Daddy, what’s a b***h?” I wouldn’t get mad. I’d give him an ice-cream. That kid is smart. And it would help him understand the reruns of The Chappelle Show that we would watch together.
I suppose if Adidas ran an ad promoting the Boston Marathon, the language barrier would still rear its head. “What are these bloody Americans getting so antsy about? I use a f**k for me pudding!”
Scott Kirwin, a computer consultant in Wilmington, Del., was a contract worker for J.P. Morgan Chase for about three years when he was told he was being let go. He says the contract was ended so that Indian workers could replace him. He was asked to train the replacements, he says, in order to keep getting a paycheck.
“You feel like you’re the guy wearing the red shirt on Star Trek,” Scott Kirwin, a computer consultant in Wilmington, Del., was a contract worker for J.P. Morgan Chase for about three years when he was told he was being let go. He says the contract was ended so that Indian workers could replace him. He was asked to train the replacements, he says, in order to keep getting a paycheck.
“You feel like you’re the guy wearing the red shirt on Star Trek,” says Kirwin, referring to characters who often died on the TV show. (from USA Today)
