Monday, March 31, 2003

It's time to take a break from all this war talk and focus on something that may otherwise have fallen through the cracks in the era of Non-Stop Coverage of the Conflict in Iraq. Namely, Chubby Checker's Website. Chubby welcomes you to his website with a comparison of himself to great innovators of the past:
Before "Alexander Graham Bell"...no telephone. Before "Thomas Edison"...no Electric light. Before Dr. George Washington Carver...no Oil from seed or cloning of plants. Before "Henry Ford" no V8 engine Before "Walt Disney"...no animated cartoons Before "Chubby Checker"...no "Dancing Apart to the Beat"
Now, I'll leave it to you to find all the historical inaccuracies in Chubby's chart, but I will note that Gregor Mendel is somewhere rolling in his grave. (What does grave rolling accomplish?) Apparently Chubby questions the very existence of everyone but George Washington Carver going by his odd use of quotation marks, and easily tires of capitalization and punctuation. Chubby goes on to explain what "Dancing Apart to the Beat", his noteworthy contribution to society is:
What is "Dancing Apart to the Beat"? Dancing Apart to the beat is the dance we do when we dance apart to anybody's music with a beat and before "Chubby Checker" It could not be found!
What? I've read that half a dozen times and still have no idea what Dancing Apart to the beat (See? I told you he gets tired of capitalization easily) is. He should have just said "The Twist". Here are some choice excerpts from Chubby's autobiography: "If all the people who have seen Chubby Checker perform through the years stood side by side they would encircle the globe many times over." He's nothing if not scientific. "And, no matter who among them was asked, there would be no question that Chubby Checker is the most dynamic, charismatic entertainer in he world today." And humble, too! "He is the only person on the planed who has had the same single record go number one twice in different years" "As a teenage, Ernest found a job opening in a produce market on 9th Street in Philadelphia. When he applied for the job, Tony Anastasi who was the boss called him Chubby." Not only is he a master lyricist but his command of the english language is incredible! Other fun and interesting things to do on Chubby's website: Check out Chubby's glistening, hairless chest on his very own American Bandstand trading card! But some of Chubby's very own Chubby Checker Brand Jerky!, with such wonderful flavors as "Young People's Flavor: Smooth Hickory" and "Invisible Strength Hickory: Flavor of the Forces" See if Chubby's coming to a town near you! That's a lot of "0th"s. I'm going to try to catch him at the ponderously named "President Casino Broadwater Resort-Tower Ballroom" in Biloxi, the town that even Branson laughs at! Chubby used to have an insane rant about why he should be inducted into the Hall of Fame, but I assume he's taken it down. Anyone who finds it on the site gets a nickel.

Thursday, March 27, 2003

The war has been won. The Coalition of the Willing, up until now, has been the guys who, when the going gets rough, say "got your back". This is meaningless. It took, of all places, Morocco to truly offer up something useful in this war. Something that could end this war a lot sooner than any of us could ever have imagined. They've offered us their monkeys. Yes, their monkeys. But not just any monkeys. An elite force of highly-trained combat monkeys whose sole purpose is to diffuse the minefields of Iraq.They do this, one can only assume, by running around until they step on a mine. But the way they do this is with such precision and finesse that the immense amount of funding spent on training these 2,000 monkeys is entirely justified. Actually, I came up with this idea a long, lone time ago, although not utilizing our greatest natural resource, the monkey. While reading an article about Canada's Drug-Sniffing Gerbils, I wondered why we just didn't supply our troops with a hamper full of gerbils. Whenever they came upon a minefield, just dump the gerbils, sit back, and watch the magic happen. Rabbits could be subsituted for gerbils if weight was an issue. If I had any idea what Morocco's flag looked like, I'd be flying it today.
I've had Gameboy Advance SP for a day now. I've had Pokemon Sapphire for two days now. According to the game, I've played it for 11 hours. Gotta catch 'em all. Even if it means not eating or drinking.

Tuesday, March 25, 2003

Monday, March 24, 2003

If you're looking for unbiased journalism, stop. Go watch some cartoons instead. Surprisingly, this isn't about the war at all, as that would be far too obvious to warrant writing this. Although I could point out that a scant 12 hours ago Fox News reported their reporter (and the military that must have been tagging along with him) found an active chemical weapons factory in the middle of the desert (which, I believe, is where all of Iraq is located). Shocked to see that no one else was reporting this, it took a whole 12 hours to find out that no, it wasn't active, nor had it been active for quite a few years. Responsible journalism at its best. But I digress. This is not about the war. Wait, it kinda is. Well, it's about the Oscars. I didn't watch, not because I have anything better to do with my time, but just because they're incredibly boring and incredibly random. Fucking Babe was nominated one year for Best Picture. BABE. The movie with the talking pig that isn't Charlotte's Web. So I was more than happy to watch reruns of Futurama. I do check to see who won, just in case a movie I actually saw and enjoyed got an award. And it turned out that Michael Moore won for Bowling for Columbine. Now, with the somber war-time version of the Oscars, I'm sure each and every nominee was warned well ahead of time not to say anything at all about the war beyond "Give Peace A Chance" and "Go USA! WOO! LINKIN PARK!", but Michael Moore HAD to have said something. And you can tell the bias of the newspaper (or at least the reporter) by how it's described. Here are excerpts from two stories I read: Story 1:
Michael Moore -- who won Best Documentary for "Bowling for Columbine" -- used his 90 seconds of speech time to rail against the "fictitious" president and the "fictitious" war. His comments were met with a smattering of applause and a chorus of jeers.
Story 2 (which was LINKED TO from Story 1 as a source):
A standing ovation and a handful of jeers from Hollywood's elite greeted filmmaker Michael Moore when he criticized President Bush and the U.S.-led war in Iraq during his acceptance speech Sunday after winning the documentary feature Oscar for "Bowling for Columbine."
So his protest was met with either a chorus or a handful of jeers, and either a smattering applause or a standing ovation. That clears that up. Remember, boys and girls, history is nothing more than what happened according to the guys who won. Oh, you can get Moore's full comments here, and can decide whether to chorus or ovate your response for yourself. And add more links to the above post to make it more interesting. I'm far too lazy (and busy, for a change).

Friday, March 21, 2003

Websites Suspend Ads during Wartime A small number of online publishers have stopped running paid ads on certain sections of their sites as they react to consumers' sensitivity to the onset of war with Iraq. For as long as our troops fight to liberate Iraq, X10 will refrain from forcing pop up ads featuring a tiny camera focused on a hot woman in a bikini "for security purposes" on CNN.com. The little monkey that runs from side to side, inviting you to "shock/spank/shoot the monkey" is standing still in silent protest of the civilian massacres in Bagdhad. He requests that you do not spank him, although understands if you do anyway. The webmasters of virginassholes.com would like to point out that their banner ad featuring liquid running from a puckering asshole was NOT a tear symbolizing the tears of the widows of Iraqi soldiers, and to further rid of the notion that this was in any way in protest of the war, point out the words "See Your Cum Pour Out These Perfect Ruby Assholes!" They are adamantly pro-war and in response have added a banner ad featuring a chick with an eagle tattoo to the left of her pussy lips. Honestly, I hope none of you give the advertisement agencies any credit for being "tasteful" or anything, because the only reason anyone's withholding advertising is so the general drooling masses don't learn to associate new Lemon Pine Sol with decapitated Iraqi babies (shouldn't lemon pine sol cause some contradiction in terms that causes space-time to unravel? Shouldn't it be Lemon Sol?) And my local news radio station is claiming "Non-Stop War Coverage", but still has commercials, periodic sports, weather, and traffic updates. And fuck Colorado and Wyoming for thinking anyone cares they had a blizzard.
30 Oil Wells set fire to by retreating Iraqi Troops That should satisfy the "No Blood for Oil" camp Dick Cheney's thrown his hat in the dirt and is cursing it up like Yosemite Sam. "Ooooooh! I hate them varmints!"

Thursday, March 20, 2003

I slept through the war. Well, the beginning of it anyway. I turn on CNN when I wake up this morning to find that they've already bombed Saddam, but Saddam responded by coming on Iraqi TV (interrupting Iraq's favorite TV show, "Two Guys, A Girl, And A Hummis Place") and said roughly the following "Nyah nyah nyah nyah poo poo, you missed me." and then called upon his more able family to kick some ass. Now, CNN is saying that the Saddam that delivered the speech indicating he was alright was NOT Saddam Hussein, but a clever Saddam impersonator (he must kill at Barmitzvahs...literally). So since I can't find a damn news story supporting this, I will only have to assume that I will be the first on the whole fucking internet to make the following joke, one that will be made by everyone at least once in the next week. We have just begun to fight:
Gulf War II: Attack of the Clones
Obviously Saddam took my "Jack-In-A-Reservoir-Multiple-Santa" idea and ran with it.

Wednesday, March 19, 2003

#25, motherfuckers. And my little quote is great. BEAT THAT.
With all those Red Cross WTC Victim Funds stagnating, it's high time we find a new worthy cause to blindly throw money at. And I've found it, my friends: Stop Prison Rape. I wonder what color the ribbon for that cause is? My guess is brown and red.

Tuesday, March 18, 2003

I've been busy the past few days, but not too busy to bring you: Giant Nose Fetishes.

Monday, March 17, 2003

According to Defense Newsm Assistant Defense Secretary for Homeland Security Paul McHale told the house subcommittee on terrorism that the Pentagon will continue to develop the Total Information Awareness program. But it won't use the system. In related news, Saddam Hussein breathed a sigh of relief and took a cue from the Pentagon, stating that he will continue to develop weapons of mass destruction, but he will not use them. I'll take their word on it! [Thanks to Defensetech for the heads up.]
Fish proclaims Apocalypse is near, Kevin Costner responds by rereleasing Waterworld The jews, in a bold move to show the christian community that they can be just as insanely retarded, have brought to the attention of the world a 20 lb. carp that shouts apocalyptic prophecy in Hebrew:
According to two fish-cutters at the New Square Fish Market, the carp was about to be slaughtered and made into gefilte fish for Sabbath dinner when it suddenly began shouting apocalyptic warnings in Hebrew.
Obviously these were not experienced fish-cutters to fall for the old "Don't eat me, I'm a magic prophet fish" routine. If every goddamned fish-cutter fell for that trick, we'd starve.
The animated carp commanded Rosen to pray and study the Torah. Rosen tried to kill the fish but injured himself. It was finally butchered by Nivelo and sold.
My mistake, I probably should've had more faith in our fishcutters. Fish starts speaking in tongues, you kill it as quickly as you can. Been that way since the beginning of time. Unless, of course, you've caught Daryl Hannah. The proper procedure there is to take her out on the town for all sorts of hilarious hijinks. She just wants to be...part of our world.

Friday, March 14, 2003

Thursday, March 13, 2003

Elizabeth Smart was found alive and well after being abducted almost a year ago. She is SO molested. In related news, her father looks just like Basil Exposition.
China loves their little fatties (NYTimes Registration Required) As Asian cities get larger, so do the children in them:
Once uncommon in Asia, diseases of the heart and cardiovascular system are now the continent's leading killers. Most visibly and most dangerously for the future, obesity is spreading among children, bringing a severe form of diabetes and putting them at risk for years to come. Known in Chinese as "xiao pangzi," or "little fatties," these roly-poly children seem to be everywhere, the pampered victims of cultures that prize them as emblems of affluence and well-being. "We spoil him," said Warisa Waid, a Thai teacher in Bangkok, of her 11-year-old son, Saharat, whose father is an ethnic Thai-Chinese. "Whatever he wants, we give it to him. We don't care if it is good or bad, we just feed him whatever he wants.
So China is feeding their kids like Audrey II. And for all you ladies out there, get ready to wet: a HOT pic of some little fatties! As their men get fatter, their women increasingly need an alternative. My plan is coming to fruition.
Since we're on a video game nostalgia kick, I present to you Video Computer System, a song made entirely out of sounds from the Atari, by the band Golden Shower. You can find the mp3 on their site, and download the video here.
The Minibosses cover video game music. And I listen to it. A lot.There's much to be said about Nostalgia. They even play Contra in its entirety. Okay, kinda.
Now no one would be surprised if the Beastie Boys came out with a song against the war in Iraq, as they've had a political message in one form or another since day one. Good thing you're not surprised, because they did. (lyrics here) But I think everyone would be surprised if Paula Cole, the hairy-pitted chick who sang "Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?", wasn't found strangled in a Red Roof Inn covered in jizz. Oh wait, this was about antiwar songs. Well, unfortunately for us all, she came out with one too. And boy, it's a doozy. Some sample lyrics:
"Now wipin out the terrorists that's fine with me/but please don't erode our civil liberties/the america we fight for and hold so dear/includes a woman's right to choose/freedom of religion/freedom of assembly/and free speech like the song I'm singing here"
Now, I'd have gone off about how horrible the song is, but I was distracted while having a conversation about "Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?" with Tina and I must pose the following question:
Is Saloon Girl the most fuckable historical profession?
Honestly, the only other alternative I can think of is Temple Virgin from ancient Greece. Any suggestions?

Wednesday, March 12, 2003

Despite the fact I hate reality TV and, honestly, don't watch a minute of it, I constantly have ideas about what should've happened and what new shows should be, and I felt my latest idea was brilliant enough to share with the world: Combine Fear Factor with Joe Millionaire. Make people do horrible, dangerous, ridiculous things and lie about the cash prize. Make them eat 10 lbs. of dried moose scrotum jerky and then tell them it was all a lie, no $50,000, just $20 and a handshake. Failed Reality TV contestants are going to kill themselves anyway, might as well give them a good reason.

Tuesday, March 11, 2003

SETI@Home Project Identifies 150 Possible Candidates as Signals From Extraterrestrial Life The SETI@Home project, the little screen saver that searches radio signals from space for signs of alien communication and prevents you from curing cancer or anything useful, has identified 150 possible alien transmissions. My speculation as to what some of the messages will be:
  • We want you...TO DIE. Ah, pointless alien aggression, our old friend. 99% of aliens want to kill us, and when pressed as to why, they usually mumble something about harvesting fuel. Well, as long as we have Bill Pullman, we're safe. Or was it Bill Paxton? They're the same guy, anyway.
  • Instructions on how to build an incredibly advanced giant machine whose sole purpose is to send Jodi Foster to a space beach to dick around with her dad. Hey, aliens, the best way to get Jodi Foster's attention is to shoot the president. That's the only way she'll love you.
  • Bing Boom Bing Boom BWAAAAAAA Apparently aliens consider bad jazz fusion the universal language. What's a close encounter of the 2nd kind, anyway? Sharks? I bet it's sharks.
  • A/S/L? pix?
[Link via BoingBoing]
You've Got Disappointment! AOL Time-Warner, the most successful and profitable merger in US history (see? I can lie like the Bush camp, too!), is once again unleashing upon the world the result of its corporate synergy (for those unfamiliar with AOL Time Warner's corporate synergy, watch The Other Sister and watch the retards kiss.) by releasing their own version of the digital video recorder, a market currently cornered by Tivo and ReplayTV. (Non-New York Times Link for you unwashed monkeys without an NYT Registration). With that much theoretical money behind it, one can only assume that Mystro (the name for the unit, named after the whale in Pinnochio, obviously, as less than 1% of americans would be familiar with the word maestro) would offer a level of service above and beyond what's currently on the market. Let's take a look at its features:
Not only can networks determine the availability of their shows, but Mystro TV prevents consumers from making, storing or sharing copies (something ReplayTV allows). Mystro also does not automatically skip commercials or even include a fast-forward button that leaps past one 30-second commercial at a time (another feature of ReplayTV.) While a program is paused or rewinding, networks can insert new commercials during the process or display them around the periphery of the screen. On the CD-ROM demo, for example, a viewer pausing "Charmed" might see a commercial for Special K or Pizza Hut.
Well, first off, if you watch "Charmed", you should be forced to watch as many commercials as possible. Lap up that shit and make it so I can watch my shows commercial free. But let's see, a PVR that can record only what the networks want you to record, will only store a copy of the program as long as the network wants it stored, no commercial skip feature, and in fact, ADDED commercials, so after you've watched through the commercials of a show, if you rewind or pause the show, there's ADDED commercials! Woo! The sad thing is the majority of america will eat this up like a retard, because they don't know any better. Get yourselves Tivo while you still can. It'll change your life, albeit in small, sad, but wonderful ways.
The internet has once again let me down. As previously noted, I upgraded my Tivo to 140 hours, meaning it can store 5 days, 20 hours worth of TV. After fending off the sad realization that my life has not taken the path I'd envisioned, I was anxious to expand my horizons, at least as far as television was concerned. So I hit Google to find some sites that find the best of the week in TV. Well, there are none. All it turned up were Entertainment Weekly clones (and Entertainment Weekly itself) that want me to watch "Friends" or "Married By America" or some other mindless shit parade. Okay, I don't mind a mindless shit parade once in a while, but to call "Friends" a shit parade is being too kind. That slop they feed to pigs that's comprised of everything no one else in their right mind would eat all mashed together into a grey mush? Friends is what the pigs leave in the trough. So, in order to make the internet a better place to...something...I present to you what *I* plan on watching this week (all times Eastern Standard, the one that matters): Tuesday
  • 2 AM - "The Larry Sanders Show" (Bravo) Okay, so a satire of Late Night Television starring a man who vaguely resembles a basking iguana may not be entirely appealing to you. But watch the show once and you'll be hooked. It's just plain fucking funny. Although you probably expected that if you were lucky enough to have seen "The Garry Shandling Show".
  • 3 AM - "Connections" (The Science Channel/Discovery Science) You probably haven't read any of James Burke's books or even know who he is, but he has a fascinating way of teaching us history. He takes a premise like the following:
    Since a 17th century nobleman discovered he could light his farts, we now have the internet
    and then shows us how he came to that conclusion by way of the connections of history. This led to that, which then led to that, and so on and so forth. Worth your time, if you're lucky enough to have the Science Channel.
  • 10:00 AM - Tech Live (TechTV) Alright, this is the first in a series of Nerd Shows that I watch on the definitive Nerd Channel, TechTV. I cannot explain it in any satisfactory way except this: Watch TechTV and Understand Its Power.
  • 10:30 AM - Eye Drops (TechTV) Showcase of Computer Generated Short Films on TechTV. Ah, geekdom.
  • 3:00 pm - Call for Help (TechTV) WATCH TECHTV
  • 11:00 PM - The Daily Show (Comedy Central) If you don't already watch the Daily Show without me telling you, stop reading this blog.
  • 11:30 PM - Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn (Comedy Central) I hate this show so much I watch it every night. It's quite sad really.
Wednesday
  • 12:00 AM - Giant Monsters (Animal Planet) Okay, so I'm a sucker for these retarded Animal Planet shows. This one follows Crocodile Hunter Lite as he runs away from Computer Generated Imagery representing the giant ancestors of modern day species.
  • 7:45 AM - Solaris (Independent Film Channel) I know nothing about this movie other than George Clooney remade it and a bunch of film geeks, a crowd I'd run with if I wasn't always 15 minutes too late, cried about how it wasn't as good as the original, a stunningly unoriginal criticism. But I'll see it anyway.
  • 4:00 pm - Extended Play (TechTV) TechTV's show reviewing Video Games. WATCH TECHTV.
  • 9:00 pm - Good Eats (The Food Network) Alton Brown is a god. He has no equal on this earth. Watch his show and realize that YES, we NEED a Food Network, even if they're going to fly planes into our buildings because of it.
  • 9:30 pm - Fresh Gear (TechTV) TechTV's show dedicated to cool gadgets. WATCH TECHTV.
Thursday
  • 12:00 AM - Unsolved History (Discovery Channel) A nifty little show. Don't get confused by the title, half the time it doesn't actually try to solve anything, just recreate it and tell us why it's NOT solved, but other times it WILL solve unsolved history. From who started the Boston Massaacre, to who shot the Red Baron, to who shot Kennedy, it's a welcome alternative to the History Channel borefest.
  • 9:45 PM - The American Nightmare (Independant Film Channel) A documentary examining the evolution of independant horror flicks. Count me in.
Friday
  • 9:00 pm - A Cook's Tour (Food Network) The OTHER, equally good reason we need a Food Network. Tony Bourdain, a foul mouthed bastard of a man, travels the world, mocks foreigners, and eats their horrible, horrible food, then lies about how good it is. Well, I figure he's lying, unless pickled Yak really IS that good.
  • 11:30 pm - Real Time with Bill Maher (HBO) The man with teh marshmallow face delivers the only liberal talk with balls you'll find ANYWHERE. Watch it.
Alright, now I realize why no one goes to the trouble of doing this. It's incredibly boring to do. I apologize. But if one or two more people watch Good Eats this week, my job is done. Oh, the whole point of this was to force you all to give me YOUR TV suggestions. I will Tivo them all and if they suck I'm coming after you and your family.

Friday, March 07, 2003

For the man who came here with a Sonogram Fetish, might I direct you over to Lisa's blog. She's a sonogram technician and encounters fetal scrotum on a daily basis. And then kill yourself, you abomination.
Seeking Government Grant for Important Scientific Research I am seeking a grant in order to fund a study to see what would happen if I masturbated into an Ecosphere (hypothesis: would result in humanoid seamonkeys). If the grant is generous, I will extend my research to include what would happen if I masturbated into:
  • a reservoir (hypothesis: An army of clones, in the vein of Multiple Santa)
  • the LaBrea tar pits (hypothesis: Resurrection of the Wooly Mammoth and Saber Tooth Tiger, now solely under my control.)
  • the Shroud of Turin (hypothesis: The bleach gets those ugly stains out).
Any other suggestions as to what to masturbate into will be duly considered. If anyone from the industrial or private sector wants to sponsor my research, I will gladly write your name of you or your corporation on my dingle. Give me money.
So you see, Delicious Young Prince, there's nothing you possess that I cannot take away. The Hervidos could have warned you. If only you spoke Hervidos. HAKUMBA MATUSU! HAMUGAI! ::pfft pfft:: One of my many, many unseen enemies took down my internet connection AND my blog last night. The jury's still out on who, but I've narrowed it down to either the 7 ft. tall shapeshifting reptillian aliens that secretly rule the world by posing as our greatest world leaders and these guys. It's quite obvious as to why the Lizard Men would want to silence me, but the other guys, the self-proclaimed "Dynamic Duo" have been going back and forth with me as to which of our blogs gets the weirder search requests. Feeling the heat, they obviously hacked my site in an attempt to silence the competition. Despite the fact my site was down for half a day, one search request was made before it went down, and it is the best one yet: Sock Universe Children Are Not Special Pity the poor children of the sock universe, for they will never be special.

Thursday, March 06, 2003

15% of Plushies Fetishists prefer "lightly spooged plushies" And when you're done with that, how about you learn the Plushie Language? [First link via Tina]
The Trendy Girls of Tokyo Allow me to introduce you to the Ganguro Girls. Ganguro roughly translates to "black faces". Apparently, it is an attempt by Japanese girls to look more like "California Girls", and to that extent some accomplish this better than others. Some of them dye their hair blonde, others dye it brown, some wear blue contacts, but ALL of them hit the tanning salon to the point that they can't get skin cancer, it'd just burn off. Some of the lazier ones opt out of tanning and go for the makeup alternative, with mixed results. Apparently the high point of the Ganguro look is 6-inch platform shoes, which allow them to tower over the majority of the Japanese population (which doesn't seem to be that difficult a feat, but then again, you're not japanese) and stand out in any crowd. I can only see this as a natural progression to asians on stilts. So these are asian girls dedicated to making themselves look hotter than they already are? Count me in! No wonder I'm considered the 11th creepiest asian fetishist on the web (That is a harsh judgement. At least I'm not into tentacle rape. Yet.). For those interest, some more Ganguro pics can be found here, here, and here. And when I'm rich, I will wake up to this. There's also apparently a Ganguro Girl Dating Game in Flash, but I haven't had a chance to test it. I can only assume your character is an orphan with giant spiky yellow hair and a gunblade. Ganguro is a stepping stome to Yamanba, roughly translated "mountain witch", because of their similarity to witches from Japanese Folklore. It's Ganguro, but they wear white eyeliner and lipstick, and according to this article it's for ugly girls who couldn't pull of Ganguro. But, once again proving that the japanese are lightyears ahead of us, just as I discover it, it's already been out of style for two years. Oh well.

Wednesday, March 05, 2003

March 4th is Fuckapalooza Down At the Lincoln Center! BE THERE! It was filthy sex story day on the blog circuit yesterday. Whitey shares with the world the beginning of his love affair with porn, but stopped short of sharing that he can't look at a person without imagining them at the other end of a money shot. Unfortunately for some of us, fortunately for most, often he doesn't have to imagine. As if inspired by the same fluctuation in the jizz-soaked ether, Tina proved the hundredth monkey theory correct and shared with the world her first foray into the wonderful world of selfpleasure. And shocker, it took place in the woods. What major life event in Ohio doesn't take place in the woods? Well, anyway, it's chock full of girl-on-girl action, so if you're not into the girl thing, go here. And while these two hammered away at their keyboards with their horrible sticky fingers, Lisa was at work reading about really sweaty pussy. The kind of sweaty pussy you write advice columns about. And thankfully, she shared it with the world. After all, what would orgasms be without sweat? And while the dynamite diva thinks she can hide her own story in comments and Boz ponders negative sexy, I think I round it all out with cum drenched felt. This post was typed entirely with well-aimed cum shots. Made possible by a generous grant by the CHUBB foundation, and asians like you.

Tuesday, March 04, 2003

Sesame Street's Bert Touched Me Where The Bathing Suit Covers And I have the photographs to prove it. This photo has been on my wall for I don't know how long, but one day I came to the sudden realization that something was horribly, horribly wrong. Bert was fondling me. His warm yellow felt was careessing my innocent hairless boyhood to arousal. And I was loving every minute. I don't know if this makes me gay, or a plushie fetishist or both. And still, I don't have any recollection of this event. How many other muppets have felt up my weenis? I'm not sure how to feel. It's so cold. So lonely. Don't touch me.

Monday, March 03, 2003

Observations of Birmingham, Alabama, and some lessons I learned in my brief stay there.
  • Time is relative. If you've had a little trouble understanding Einstein, then you should definitely venture out to Birmingham. I had the pleasure of experiencing hour-long minutes and decade-long days. Lisa would have to wake up at 6 AM to go to her sonogram physics seminar and, as a result, would wake me from my beauty sleep. How thoughtless. Sleep was the only refusege from the gray nothing that is life in Alabama, so once roushed, I would desperately try to get back to sleep. At one point, after much tossing and turning, I managed to fall asleep at 9:10 AM and woke up after what seemed like hours of blissful slumber. I turned to the alarm clock only to find that the time was now 9:11 AM. If I was on the Flintstones, the little Pterodactyl inside the alarm clock would laugh the laugh of kings, and then say something like "It's a living!"
  • Homogeny: It's What's For Dinner! There wasn't much rednecky about Alabama, much to my surprise. I was going there expecting to join the barefoot unwashed masses in some good ol' fashioned hambone, but it turned out to be much like my experiences in Florida: no one that lives there was born there, and no one can give a satisfactory explanation of why they actually moved there. It was just like everywhere else is like everywhere else is like everywhere else. You've got your Friday's, your Applebees, a Macaroni Grill up on the hill, and the local flavor that was recommended to us were two chain restaurants that we just don't have up north. I heard, maybe, 5-10 accents during my entire visit there, and the vast majority of them were in the IMAX theater. But before I get to the IMAX, I must preface it with this:
  • Birmingham is a fucking ghost town. The day of our arrival, we ate at the great Dreamland BBQ where we inhaled a rack and a half of ribs. After our meal, we decided, well, I decided, that we should walk from Dreamland to the McWayne Center, where we planned to see an IMAX movie. I wanted to walk, much to Lisa's chagrin, so we could find some other things to do, because after this IMAX movie, we'd be out of ideas on how to spend the rest of our 5 days in Birmingham. So we walked. And all Birmingham had to offer was abandoned buildings. There was at least one building per block that was abandoned, more often falling down, and in one case, caved in. In the 20+ blocks it took to walk from Dreamland to the McWayne center, there was not a SINGLE GODDAMNED INTERESTING THING. Not even a movie theater. Not even another restaurant, outside of a Shoney's. Oh, and I didn't see a single dog for the entire time we were there. The Phantoms-esque beast that had been devouring the town's residents had obviously started with their pets.
  • When IMAX is your cultural center, it's time to worry. For the ghost town that Alabama was, the IMAX movie was PACKED. We had missed the showing of "Cirque Du Soleil: The Journey of Man" (Foreign Release Title: Faggin' It Up Big Willy Style) and settled instead for a Harrison Ford-narrated movie about the fragility of life, and I think it was even subtitled "Life in the Balance", which says it all right there. It was the standard IMAX halfhearted message about humankind's ignorance of nature with plenty of giant shots of really small things and aerial shots of really huge things. It was here that the rednecks came out to play. The following things occured during this brief half hour:
    1. A group of children in the seats next to us argued about who lived in the nicer trailer park.
    2. An elderly woman a few seats down from us talked on her cellphone for the first 10 minutes of the movie, arguing with someone about...a trailer park.
    3. Her child, or grandchild, who can I only assume was dying of the plague, attempted to clear his throat approximately every 3.1 seconds, the silence inbetween his attempted loogie-hocking was filled by the small container of pink goo purchased in the gift shop, whose sole purpose was to make fart noises. The end result was the soundtrack of the movie being the following "HOCK HOCK poot poot HOCK HOCK poot (repeat)"
    4. A mulleted man in the row in front of us asked the black children seated next to him to show him "that secret black handshake y'all know". They did.
    5. Grown adults, thankfully during the credits, discovered that they could make shadow puppets in front of the projector and proceeded to do so for an amount of time that would fly in the face of any sane theory on the amount of time shadow puppetry is amusing.
  • I am certifiably insane. I had a dream on the second day of the trip in which a little girl comes to me and tells me the most horrible thing that I've ever seen would appear to me if I opened the hotel closet. Now, as has been stated before, I'm a skeptic through and through, and I know this is ludicrous, but as soon as I woke up I ran to the closet and opened it. Unbeknownst to me, Lisa had hung up our coats (I'm the type who just leaves it where it lands), and the force of the door being opened made the coats slowly turn on their hangers to face me. In the moment between my abject horror and the realization that the dark figures turning towards me were our jackets, I came the closest to crossing the line between sane and insane that I've ever been. A split second more and my heart would've exploded, and no one would ever know that my massive heart attack was caused by Lisa's cleaning neuroses. This is not uncommon for me, one day I'll explain to you about the things that scare me most. This post has gone on too long with too few links as it is, and I've got to poop like you wouldn't believe, so I declare this case closed.
Bo Knows Rap He just doesn't like it. Bo Diddley, about 11 years late to the game on the issue of incendiary rap lyrics, felt he should speak out nonetheless: "The lyrics are very disgusting because you are a person, and a person deserves respect," he said. "I have daughters, my mother was a woman, and I don't like what I'm hearing." Unlike many of today's outspoken, outraged celebrities, he offered a solution to the problem with some safe lyrics of his own:
"Some folks say old Bo Diddley can't rap. I'm Bo Diddley and I ain't taking no nap."
Now, before you start to laugh, I ask you to consider the following: If you replace "Bo Diddley" with "Mike D", you'd have a Beastie Boys song, and no one would complain. [Link via Metafilter]
Sweet Home Alabama My Ass Not only did Lynyrd Skynrd completely miss the point of Southern Man, there is nothing sweet or homey about Alabama. Birmingham was an endless gray corridor that existed outside of normal time, with every minute a mundane eternity. That being said, the food was good and I finished two books and my Zelda game. So I guess it evens out. More tomorrow.