Spider War

War.

It was to be war between us from the moment he crossed the threshold into my home. My sanctuary; my place of rest away from the cold cruelty of the world and the harsh light of day. It is my place of Zen and thus cannot be defiled by any creature that is not welcome. There is a balance between the world outside and the calmness within. This stranger chose to ignore the balance and invade my territory. So it was to be war between us, then.

So be it.

I quickly made my way to the laundry room to grab my weapon and extinguish my foe. I wrapped my hand around the cool, aluminum handle and pulled the dusty broom from its place of rest next to the washing machine. Thoughts of soiled clothing quickly entered my mind as I inhaled the smell of detergent and fabric softener.

Nearing the place where I had first discovered the intruder, I slowed my pace and crept lightly over the carpet. Stealth and my trusty broom were my only allies this night, and they would lead me to victory. I crept closer to the beast’s lair in-between the wires behind the entertainment center, hoping for a quick kill.

There he was.

I tightened the grip on my broom weapon and held my breath. I knew I had to be quick with my thrust, and aim true. If I were to miss, the beast would surely scamper away from the deadly end of my weapon and disappear into the tangle of wires once more.

Perhaps I would need assistance. I called to my woman, Jen. The slayer of bugs and cooker of meals would aid me in my hunt tonight to ensure a quick victory. We quickly formulated a plan of action. I would thrust my weapon to the left of the creature, forcing it to scurry to the right in fear and into our trap, where Jen would be waiting with her own weapon of floor cleaning.

I took a breath, and quickly drove the end of the broom handle to the very left of the creature, who jumped aside and scurried quickly to the right to avoid my thrust. Jen’s outstretched mop handle drove downwards quickly, and yet again the creature avoided the blow, this time heading back in the direction it came from, back to me.

I wasn’t ready. I aimed another thrust and missed wildly, and before I could aim another strike, the beast had slipped into the jungle of wires behind the entertainment center.

The beast had eluded us.

Cursing, I quickly began to thrust the broom handle into the tangled web of wires in the hopes that my prey would scurry for cover, and into our midst. He was not fooled by our ruse, and remained hidden in the safety of the wires. We discussed our next move, as we did not want to leave the creature back there to surprise us again at another time. We decided the best course of action would be to pull away the entertainment center from the wall, in the hopes that we would be given an opportunity to strike out against our foe. I pulled the entertainment center away from the wall, and sprang back ready to pounce!

Nothing happened. Shit.

Discouraged, we began to search again, when suddenly a scream from Jen caused me to turn around as I saw the creature scurrying away with such speed and agility I was momentarily stunned. I quickly recovered and chased after the beat as it ran across the living room rug and towards the couch. Wildly stomping my foot, I tried to end his life but he proved too quick for me, and reached the cover of the couch easily.

The little fucker had proven a worthy adversary.

The time had come for action. No more games, I told myself. Time to end this. I took position near the back of the couch, while Jen took position in front, gripping her mop handle firmly between her soft hands. Steeling myself, I raised the couch up from the floor, and the cunning arachnid bounded away from the couch….missing Jen’s thrust by inches…and dove for cover underneath the other sofa.

Cursing again and beginning to lose patience, I went to the back of the second sofa and looked beneath it for any signs of our prey. He sat calmly underneath the couch, near the leftmost edge. I couldn’t hear him breathing, but I knew it must be coming hard with all the running he was doing. Fearing another mistake, I took it upon myself to clear the room from any sources of cover the creature might take. The rug and the end table were moved and I told myself that our clever friend would not elude us much longer.

I told Jen to prepare, and once more lifted the couch off the ground to force our foe from his hiding place, and into our midst. He ran directly for Jen’s feet, causing her to emit a piercing scream of dismay while she blindly and chaotically shoved the mop handle into the ground in an effort to win the day. She was…unsuccessful, and the beast once more scurried underneath the sofa to safety.

Fuck.

Feeling the excitement of the hunt beginning to slip away to be replaced by hopelessness and anger, I did my best to calm my breathing. This was proving to be the most elusive, annoying fucking arachnid I had ever had the displeasure of doing battle with. A worthy foe, indeed.

Gripping my silver broom handle, I again lifted the couch and waited for signs of his approach. Jen cried out she had seen him, but he had ducked back into the couch again. I set down the couch and began to come to the front with her, when I saw out of the corner of my eye, my enemy.

He stood before me.

As he ran towards me, I raised my weapon above my head, and brought it down with a thunderous blow that shook the ground and shattered my weapon into pieces. As the broom head flew to the side from the force of the blow, I saw my foe dodge to the right and head back towards the couch in retreat.

GoddammitmotherfuckingspiderIwilleffingkillyou!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As the beast scurried towards the safety of the couch once more, I raised my broken weapon again above my head. Screaming my war cry, I brought down the silver bo with a quick, violent slam that caught my opponent mere inches away from the underside of the couch. The force of the thrust caused the creature to fly into the air and back into the middle of the room. Death found him quickly and probably without pain. He landed in a heap on the floor, already curled into the telltale ball that signaled the end of his life and my victory. He remained still.

Victory was mine!!

I erupted into a primal scream of glee and victory as I held aloft my silver spider killer weapon. Broken, bent, and destroyed it may have been…but dishonored, it was not. I dubbed it “Silverstick, the Spider Hammer” and laid it to rest next to the washing machine, where it belonged.

The battle had ended. My foe defeated.

The war was over.

60-foot Waterslide!

I did some pretty dumb things when I was a kid, and I'm sure I've done plenty of not-very-smart things during my college years and drunk adventures.


However, I am totally blown away by the amount of balls it would take to do this:


super fun happy slide



Holy effing shit.

Why Bill Murray is Still Cool

Bill Murray Arrested for DUI in Golf Cart

Random Friday

-I have two laptops on my desk at work right now because of a project I’m working on. They are the same make and model, so it’s like having twins. I’ve begun to feel guilty when I work on one more than the other. I don’t want to start some sort of cyber-sibling rivalry, you know. I’m considering giving them names.



-I’m allergic to cats. My friend sent me a picture of her new kitties and I was thinking about the fact that I miss having cats. I’ve heard about these allergy free cats they have, now. Apparently they are some sort of bio-engineered genetic mutations that don’t make you sneeze when you pick them up. You can order them online and have them (get this) shipped to you. I want to get one, but they’re like $2000 so I don’t see that happening any time soon.

-I was playing some online games last night on my Playstation. I joined a game where I was the only American…the other people were all Japanese. This was funny for numerous reasons, the biggest being that I don’t speak Japanese and they didn’t seem to speak English (there were headsets involved so we were talking back and forth). We played anyway, and every now and then, they would talk to me specifically. I know this, because all I could decipher was my own name (Shanshu). I can't fake Japanese very well, but it went something like this:

"Watashiwa hajime mash-dey, dozo yuroshky mishu SHANSHU domo origamo!"

For all I knew, they were cursing me out, saying hello…or possibly giving me a recipe for pan fried shrimp. No idea. I started saying random things back to them, too. “Wow, put that in your marzipan pan pie, bingo blue! The cat’s on the other neck now, horse testicle farmer.” It was funny to me.

-My new favorite drink is half Guinness and half apple cider. I’ve heard this called Snakebite, Moonbeam, and Black Velvet. I don’t know what the real name is, and I don’t care. I just like it. If you try one, be sure you get it in a glass, so you can see the cool chemical effect.

-I’m hung-over as I type this.

-I love The Far Side comics. I always get a Far Side desk calendar for Christmas. I’m dreading the year I don’t get one, and blow a gasket over the whole ordeal and cause a big scene.

-I had eggs, toast, and a rasher for breakfast.

-My favorite soda right now is Cherry Coke Zero. Try it out. You’ll be amazed at how good it tastes.

-I wish I could give out tickets for bad driving. I wouldn’t want to actually pull people over though, since that would take more precious time away from my life. I think the best thing to do would be to keep a log of all the bad driving I encounter on a daily basis and then send that list to the police, who would mail tickets out to the idiots in question. Sort of like a secret shopper, only with vehicular vendetta!

-You don’t know what a rasher is, do you?

-There’s a guy standing behind me right now and I have no idea who he is. I wonder if it’s a ninja. I’m afraid to turn around because he might be looking at me, and that would really freak me out.

Californication

Most of the time I consider myself to be somewhat of a snob when it comes to cinema and television. The reason being that I have grown to love the visual art form genre, and the things we love tend to be easier to criticize. Having stated that necessary but semi-pretentious introduction, I will now inform my loyal seven readers of my newest and most exciting media event in months: Californication.



David Duchovny is back and better than ever in this new series on Showtime. While the series plot has only just begun to grow and show us the murky depths of emotional confusion and sexual energy that is possible in dramatic comedies, it is obvious that Californication will become a new hit loved by generations X, Y, and possibly even Z.



Duchovny plays author Hank Moody (a name I truly hope is a pen name and not a not-so-subtle hint towards his character’s mood) who recently relocated to Los Angeles from New York. Traveling to LA to secure his new movie deal and spread his creative wings in a new city, he finds himself thrown into a web of surprises, disappointments, and seemingly infinite romantic possibilities. Harboring a complicated but very real love for his ex-girlfriend and daughter and suffering from a new case of writer’s block, Hank does his best to adapt to his new surroundings and take back the life he once had.


Duchovny’s supporting cast is well chosen and easy to welcome in, including his ex-girlfriend (played by Natascha McElhone) who is currently harboring thoughts of getting married to a man that Duchovny’s character is not exactly thrilled about knowing. The back and forth between Hank and his ex’s new love interest is worth the price of admission, alone.



You might also remember Hank’s agent (Evan Handler) from Sex and the City and guest appearances on Lost and Friends.

The story is interesting, the characters are believable and fun, and the sexual deviance and chaotic normalcy of everyday life in LA is hard to ignore and even harder to dislike.

This is my new addiction, and I’m happy to have it. Californication is a great new show with tremendous potential to steal away our Monday nights. Check it out on Showtime, Monday nights at 9:30.

Jen's footnote: I read this post and skimmed the review, assuming that Shanshu had copied it from some movie review site. When I told him this, he informed me that he had, in fact, written the review himself. I asked him to allow me to add this little footnote in case any of his other blog fans assumed the same. Shan wrote it. He's a writing rock star.

*This ends my shameless plug and Showtime’s free publicity.
(Showtime, if you’re reading this, please inform your gift department that my favorite color is black and I enjoy mini-muffins. Blueberry.)

*Also note that some of the pictures above were borrowed from Showtime’s Californication site. I used them with permission….I hope. They didn’t tell me I couldn’t do it.
(Again, if you are reading this, Showtime: please know that I am giving you credit for your pictures and I hope you don’t get mad at me. No shouting, please. If you want me to take them down from my site, I will gladly to so to avoid your wrath.)

Wednesday Wacky

Random Thought:

When we are in the car, and we hear something on the radio that we don't like (because we hate that commercial, or the song is lame, etc), WHY do we look at the radio in disgust, as if the sound is coming out of the radio head unit itself???

You know you do it. I do it, too. Why do we do that? The sound is coming from the speakers...yet we look at the radio console as if it were a television.

Weird.

A Lesson Before Breaking Up

Taken from a conversation a friend of mine had with a guy she had been seeing. Apparently, the guy freaked out when he found out she owned a vibrator. She called him recently to end the relationship, and forwarded me the conversation. I had to share. The names have obviously been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

Eve: Hey, Adam, it’s me.
Adam: Hi baby.
Eve: Listen, I really don’t think this is going to work out.
Adam: What are you talking about?
Eve: What else would I be talking about?
Adam: I don’t know.
Eve: Then why…never mind. I don’t think WE’RE going to work out.
Adam: What’s wrong? Why?
Eve: You flipped out at me over a vibrator.
Adam: Because you don’t need it anymore. LOL
Eve: Who says? Plenty of guys enjoy them too. I asked a bunch of my friends today and it seems like you’re in the minority on this one.
Adam:Whatever.
Eve: See, that’s why this isn’t going to work. You can’t even talk like a grown-up. All you ever say is ‘Whatever’.
Adam: No I don’t. Why do you need a vibrator?
Eve: It’s not about need, it’s about want. I want it. I like it. It’s fun. Why can’t you get used to it?
Adam: I won’t. It’s weird. I can understand having one if you’re single or ugly. LOL
Eve: ...Right. Well, I’m sure you’ll be happier with someone who likes only two positions and fakes orgasms with you.
Adam: Whatever.
Eve: Ok, well...good luck.
Adam: Whatever.

*click*

Now, here’s how I told her the conversation should have ended:

Eve: Hey, Adam, it’s me.
Adam: Hi baby.
Eve: Listen, I really don’t think this is going to work out.
Adam: What are you talking about?
Eve: What else would I be talking about?
Adam: I don’t know.
Eve: Then why…never mind. I don’t think WE’RE going to work out.
Adam:What’s wrong? Why?
Eve: You flipped out at me over a vibrator.
Adam:Because you don’t need it anymore. LOL
Eve: Who says? Plenty of guys enjoy them too. I asked a bunch of my friends today and it seems like you’re in the minority on this one.
Adam: Whatever.
Eve: See, that’s why this isn’t going to work. You can’t even talk like a grown-up. All you ever say is ‘Whatever’.
Adam:No I don’t. Why do you need a vibrator?
Eve: Because your penis is too small.
Adam: Wha-
Eve: Listen, can I call you back later? I’m busy using my vibrator at the moment. I’ll call you when I’m finished, and everybody leaves.
Adam: Wha-who-wh-

*click*

Random Friday

I used to always do Random Friday posts. I didn't do them every Friday, mind you, because then they would cease to be come "random" and I would be forced to call them "Normal Friday posts" or something else equally lame. Since I am neither lame nor boring in bed I thought I would spew forth another random Friday post to keep our blood pumping hot for a few more hours until we leave work for the day.

-I tried a new concoction this morning for breakfast. Eggs and hash browns and leftover taco meat wrapped in a whole wheat tortilla with Velveeta cheese. As expected, it was beyond horrible.

-I have a friend who has a wife who drives me fucking batty. I swear, whenever she talks to me I'd rather light my own hair on fire and try putting it out by punching my own head.

-I was once with a girl who orgasmed 7 times in one sitting. She wasn't even getting paid.

-There was a cop following behind me this morning on the way to work. We reached a stoplight intersection and the people across from us were turning left and there was a mini-traffic jam blocking the way...yet people continued to turn. I was beyond annoyed that I was going to miss my turn on the green light...until the cop flipped on his lights, pointed at the cars that were blocking the intersection, and told them (through the use of hand movements and pointing) to get the fuck out of the way. They did. We went through the light. I was happy, and for the first time in a long time I was happy a cop was driving beside me.

-The best part of the movie Black Snake Moan is the fact that you get to see Christina Ricci naked.

-I enjoyed the final Harry Potter book. I still think the ending should have involved a threesome with Harry, Ron, and Hermione but oh well. I'm sure there's a porn out there somewhere that has done that already. It's probably called Harry Twatter or something.

-Nemo me impune lacessit

-Random movie quote: "I think you're all fucked in the head. We're ten hours from the fucking fun park and you want to bail out. Well I'll tell you something. This is no longer a vacation. It's a quest. It's a quest for fun. I'm gonna have fun and you're gonna have fun. We're all gonna have so much fucking fun we'll need plastic surgery to remove our goddamn smiles. You'll be whistling 'Zip-A-Dee Doo-Dah' out of you're assholes! I gotta be crazy! I'm on a pilgrimage to see a moose. Praise Marty Moose! Holy Shit!"

-I've had a digital camera for awhile now, and I have yet to take any dirty pictures with it.

-In case you missed it, here is a video of some of us partying. Please note Jen's drunkenness and be sure to rate the video so it will become famous and I'll make no money from it. And don't make fun of my ability to operate a camera while drunk.

-My South Park character, created by my friend Lindsey:

-When I was a kid we used to mix vanilla and sugar into our milk. We called it "Sugar Milk".

-If you have 3 quarters, 4 dimes, and 4 pennies, you have $1.19 This is the largest amount of money in coins without being able to make change for a dollar.

-I hate, hate, HATE the sound of folding paper. Especially when people fold it between their fingers. FUCK I hate that sound. It makes my teeth itch.

-I was in Rome, Italy during one of the first snowfalls they had in years. Everybody there was excited. I was pissed, since I'm from the Midwest and snow doesn't impress me.

-I find cleavage sexier than naked.



-I had a root canal last week and it didn't even hurt. I don't know what the big deal is.

-Wii sports is the most fun you can have with your clothes on, period.

-This post took 57 minutes to create.

Try Spelling THAT in your Alphabet Soup!

Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapokaiwhenuakitanatahu

You probably think I dozed off after looking at porn and my head fell on the keyboard, creating the jumbled circlejerk of letters above, right? Wrong.

Oh, if only it were that simple. That is actually a name. I swear. It's the name of a hill located in New Zealand. I shit you not.

Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapokaiwhenuakitanatahu!!!!!

Holy effing shit. Try saying that.....period. I tried a few times, but then I got tired and started looking at porn.

Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapokaiwhenuakitanatahu has got to be the longest name of a place, ever created. If it's not, then my world scares me just a little bit more than it did a few minutes ago. I mean, if there can be a place called Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapokaiwhenuakitanatahu and it's not in the book of records somewhere, that's just crazy.

I think I might have to get me a tee shirt that says "I've visited Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapokaiwhenuakitanatahu and all I got was a headache from trying to say the fucking name and this lousy t-shirt".

Hmmm. That might make me rich. Nobody steal it. I've got this post time-stamped, you know.

Here's the Wikipedia link

Once More With Feeling

While trying my best to be a guy’s guy and prove to anybody who may not believe me that I do in fact, have a penis and that I do not cry while watching romance movies and that I do not believe that flowers have feelings…sometimes I do something that completely counteracts anything I might have to say to prove my heterosexuality.

This weekend was one of those times.

I went to a Buffy sing-along show on Friday night. I was dragged by kicking horses…..No, I was led by beautiful women with promises of lust and debauchery and free beer….I was forced to go…..oh, bollocks. I won’t lie to you. I wanted to go.

There, I said it. I wanted to go. Nobody forced me. Although, I will point out that it wasn’t my idea in the first place. That being said, I still thought it sounded like fun and went to see what it was all about.

Here’s the skinny: If you’ve ever watched the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, you might know that there is an episode in which a demon comes into town and makes everybody display their deepest secrets through the truly evil use of show-tune style songs. Basically, it’s a musical episode but done in a “we don’t understand why we are singing” sort of way. It was very cool when it first aired.

Since the episode aired, the musical episode (called “Once More, With Feeling”) has developed a sort of cult following, and it even went so far as to be watched by numerous people in a theatre-style setting.

This is the part where you assume the theatre would be filled with freaks and losers….and you’d be pretty close to accurate with that thought.

People get together at a movie theatre and air the Buffy musical episode, while singing along to the lyrics and dancing about the aisles. There’s even some Buffy trivia and games and karaoke and prizes and such.

I went not knowing what to expect...and even though I had to keep checking my crotch to ensure my man penis hadn’t shriveled up inside myself to become a vagina, I had a good time. We sang, we laughed, we got super drunk….it was good times for all.

There were several “Rocky Horror Picture Show” types there, of course. But they stayed to themselves and ate small bunnies in the corner quietly so we paid them no mind. One of them got to close to our seats so we had to wield our torches close to their face and yell “Back! Back, creature!” until she went away. I was sad to see her go, though since she was only wearing a slip and high heels….

Anyway, the Buffy sing-along was a good time and if you are a fan of the Buffyverse you should consider checking it out if it ever comes to your town.

I DO have a penis. I swear. If I have to, I’ll post a pic of it.

You’ll see.

MTV News on Buffy

New York Post

Link to the Buffy musical site

Back From Oak Island

I'm back from vacation. I fucking hate being back here. I miss the beach.

We went to Oak Island, NC last week. We were there for seven fun-filled days of sunshiney joygasm at our oceanfront cottage held up by stilts. I assume that the stilts are supposed to help save the house in case the tide comes up too far, or a hurricane reaches too close to the shoreline. Perhaps they just found it cute.

Regardless, I am home now and NOT fucking happy about it.

Spending all that time on the beach is a great way to restore your emotional chi and convert all that stress into creative ways to drink and show various naked parts of your body as frequently as possible.

We had a blast.

The weather was awesome. The sun shone down on us almost everyday, and the wind kept a nice cool breeze from the ocean to ensure we never got too hot. The drinks were plenty and tasted good. Mine were usually blue drinks. I have no idea what was in them, but after 2 glasses I would start to get that fuzzy happy warm feeling in my nethers that inevitably led to semi-nakedness and a desire to munch on chips.

I got pinched by a crab. The little fucker nailed me while I was sitting in the surf enjoying myself. I bled and cursed and now I have two puncture marks on my hand. We went out that night and hunted for crabs to get my revenge on.

VENDETTA!!!!

We found a few that night, but the little fuckers are fast. Alas, vengeance was not mine.

Jen got stung by a jellyfish. We're not sure about this, but it seems likely. We did NOT try to hunt down any more for the sake of revenge. We decided to be monk-like and take the higher road...which means we were scared to get back in the water for a few hours.

We all drank. A lot. Did I mention that?

We took 188 pictures of the beach and ourselves and our house and the airport and a whole bunch of other things that sound more boring than they actually were.

Speaking of airports, have you ever been to the Wilmington, NC airport (ILM)? It's like the airport on the show Wings. I mean, there were fucking rocking chairs in there, instead of normal chairs.

Effing rocking chairs, yo.

I have pictures. I will share some of them when I get home and have access to them. Right now I'm at stupid work and I hate it and have no access to pictures or happiness.

I miss the beach. Work sucks. I have P.O.D. (Post Oak-Island Depression)

Irish Drunk Fest

Jen does her best to describe to Sean's sister that he is alive and well here in Kansas.....and she proves that Americans are NOT to be trusted.



This will be fun to explain to the family. Hopefully they don't know this address.

My New Sofas

There's really not much else I can say about this.

I mean, don't get me wrong. I want to be witty and fun. But really....they're sofas. I can't do or say anything else about them that would be worth reading. I can't even think of something I could do, to make this funny or entertaining.

They do recline, though. Woot.

Rollercoaster of Love

I went to our local fun park this weekend. Theme park, fun park, amusement park...whatever your local dialect chooses to call it. Ours is called Worlds of Fun.

My favorite is still Six Flags, but that doesn't really matter to the post.

We took Jen's cousin Sean who is in town from Ireland. He had never ridden a roller coaster before. We decided we had to let him experience one while he was in town.

We were bad, mean people. We...might have told him that people sometimes die but that "it doesn't happen every month, like it used to".

SHAME on us. We are wicked.

While we were in line at a coaster we had said earlier was the "baby coaster", we informed him that it was actually the fastest one the park had, and he absolutely, positively, could not chicken out, or we would make fun of him.

I'm not sure WHY we did this. It seemed funny to us, at the time. The more pale he got as our turn to ride grew closer, the more guilty we felt. We ended up telling him the truth, that the ride was 100% safe and that it wasn't all that bad.

He didn't believe us.

He got on, anyway. On the way up the first hill, I turned around to see how he was doing. He yelled at me to turn back around so he could concentrate, or something. I heard him cussing us out as we neared the top of the very large hill to start the coaster. I think if there had been a way for his little Irish ass to jump off at this point without getting in trouble or hurt, he would have.

As we crested the hill, I think I actually heard his heart stop. Did I mention we made him sit in the front car? I didn't? Oh.....well, we did. He was in the back part of the front car with us.

Holy shit. Poor kid. Here's what he experienced:



After that was over...he wanted to go again. Whew.

HA! USA rules again! We make the best ways to scare the shit out you, and charge your for it. All are welcome.

Random:
I wonder if a cat would enjoy a roller coaster? Could you make them see from the front, like we do? Would they have a little cat embolism or something? Hmmmm.

Vent Session

You know what really bugs me? Besides people who don’t update their blog on a regular basis? (sheepish grin)

What really bugs me are people who don’t appreciate the time and effort I put into my emails and other correspondence to them. I will spend five to ten minutes making an email perfect. I’ll add colors and Italicize certain words and add bold font to make works pop out.

I even break out the paragraphs and interesting points from the main body of the email, to help them stand out so the reader can get the idea faster.

I care. I work hard to make my emails fun to read, and informative at the same time. I want them to read the email and say to themselves “Wow….he really cares about me and our new ERP project design team.”

Do you know what I get in return, most of the time?

Fucking nothing.

No reply email or response of any kind. And when I do get a reply back, it’s usually quick and has misspelled words and doesn’t even answer any of the questions I posted in the original email. It will only answer the LAST question asked, and so I am forced to reply back to the them and say “Did you read the whole email? I put EVERYTHING you need in there. The last sentence is NOT the most important part, you know!”

And then they don’t reply…again.

Fuck.

Fucking reply to emails that people send you. They take the time to include you in their life and they take the time to send you shit…so the LEAST you can do is take one fucking gorram minute out your busy fucking life to reply to the fucking email.

How hard is it to reply to an email? Control + R is the shortcut key, if you’re too retarded to use the mouse. I know, I know….you’re afraid of keyboard shortcuts because you still think you can “crash your hard drive” with a simple accidental keystroke because you’ve seen too many movies. Well then, don’t use keystrokes. Click the “Reply” button at the top after you’re done reading the email.

It’s not hard. I promise. Give it a try.

Did you know that every time you choose NOT to reply to an email, a puppy gets molested? It’s true. I sent you an email about it last week, but you chose to NOT read it or reply to it, so Scraps is now being fondled in his little puppy butthole right now.

Good job.

I'm Stooopid Smart

I consider myself to be a smart person. I take pride in my ability to understand concepts and intellectual theories that some people might find difficult. I’m the kind of person that can spit out random, useless data or facts in a futile attempt to impress strangers at parties or social functions. Not in an annoying way, though. Honest.

I took physics and passed. I took Calculus I and II in college. Despite several headaches and mental breakdowns I passed the course by the sum of the limit as it reaches zero. I’ve taken Accounting classes and Philosophy and Cognitive Psychology. I’ve had some schooling. I have a 4.0 GPA in my business program right now.

I will debate topics with you like religion, politics, social standing, or even the less dramatic ones like wine or movies. I know 13 decimals of Pi. I play chess. I have never stuck my finger into a light socket.

I’m reading A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn and so far I understand every single bit of it.

I do smart things. I am smart. I know I am.

But today I feel like a complete fucking idiot.

I brought it on myself, too. I was sitting here in the office this morning, being bored because there are currently no projects on my desk, and for some reason I was even the first one in the office. So while I sat here being bored, I tried to better myself by doing a little “brain quiz” to help wake me up, and keep the neurons firing.

I tried to name all 50 states.

Oh. My. God.

I totally couldn’t do it. I am currently at 41 total states, and I know there are more than that. At least, I’m pretty sure…I’m starting to doubt my sanity, at this point. I can’t effing believe I can’t think of the other 9 states I’m missing.

Argh.

I only stopped so I could clear my head, and write this blog post so the whole world (and yes, I’m lame enough to think the WHOLE world reads this blog) can know how stupid I am.

Wait! 42! I just remembered Delaware!

Woot!

I will find all 50. You watch.

…

…

I’d better fucking find all 50.

Tipping

I believe in tipping. It’s like gravity. They say it’s only a theory, and some people don’t believe in it…but I do. I know it exists. I think tipping is important, and you will always get money out of me, as long as I think you are making an effort to cater to my various needs.

A quick rundown on what I think about tipping, in general:

If you do a bad job, you’ll get 10%.
If you do a good job, you’ll get 15%
If you do a great job, you’ll get 20%
If you show me your boobs, you’ll get 35%
If you show me your boobs but forget to bring me a refill on my Coke Zero, you’ll get 30%

That’s how it works.

Some people are bad tippers. Some people are good about it. Some people are just trashy about it, to the point of being whisky tango.

Jen has a friend who is a bad tipper. She has this theory that she doesn’t have to tip as much as she should when she is out to dinner with a group of people. Her crazy logic revolves around the fact that she believes that if you have a group of four people, and each one of you has a dinner bill of around $50 each…then she only has to put down $4.00 to the “tip pot”.

Four fucking dollars.

Upon being questioned about this, she replies with “Well since everybody else is putting in more money, then I don’t have to put in as much and the tip should still be bigger than if I was alone.”

Or some such shit.

I’m not sure what’s going on in her head, except cheapness and rudeness and a general lack of class and social understanding. Even if you are a moron and hate tipping, you know that 10% is standard, and you should never go below that unless you REALLY hate your service. Other than that, there is no reason to tip less than 10%.

None.

It’s so tacky, it makes my butt itch.

Granted, this is the same girl who put on her wedding invitations: “Instead of wedding gifts, please send money so I can have a bigger honeymoon.”

I shit you not. The girl asked for money on her wedding invitations. It was so horrible I almost died when I read it. So it doesn’t surprise me that she tips less than 10%...I just find it horrible and worth mentioning here.

Four fucking dollars.

Bitch, Whine, Moan

Cripes.

It seems like everybody has to bitch about everything. Everywhere you look, it seems like somebody new is complaining about something else that annoys their delicate natures again. Er....except me. I don't bitch about everything. I simply share my opinions about other people's bitching and offer suggestions for how we can improve on ourselves. Right?

Right.

Anyway. The point is, people like to bitch and moan. It makes them feel special and it makes them feel like they are important and worth taking up space for.

Today's good example of which, is the Church of England.

The church is complaining about Sony's use of the Manchester Cathedral in a video game. The game in question is called Resistance: Fall of Man. It's a game about an alien invasion of earth during WWII and how humanity teams up to survive and conquer their invaders.




Nothing religious whatsoever about this video game. It's about blowing shit up and shooting aliens. Violence, pure and simple in its wonderfulness.




The fact that somebody has found a reason to bitch besides stuck up, bored housewives who think video games are too violent astounds me. This game has nothing to do with religion or the church, and the fact that the Church of England has found a reason to bitch blows me the fuck away.

The Manchester Cathedral is used as a background for one of the levels in the game...nothing more. They don't even refer to the church by name, to my knowledge. If they do, they don't make it very obvious. I didn't know which church the level I was playing was in, while I played it. In fact, I didn't know the name of the church until I read this stupid article.

The Church of England wants Sony to issue an apology for using their cathedral without permission, and for Sony to pay them "a large donation" for their trouble.

Piffle.

It's a public building...a church. It's going to be viewed by people, photographed, videoed....and maybe even put into a book, movie, TV show, or God forbid, a video game.

Who cares? It's not like the game is saying anything negative about the church. It's just a backdrop for part of the "story" of the game. It's a setting for plot...nothing more. The fact that they are bitching about it, tells me that they are no better than everybody else and just want to whine.

That, and money.

It's always about money, isn't it? Maybe I'm reading too much into this, and maybe I'm just bitching about somebody else bitching because I don't know what else to blog about today. But maybe it's also a little extreme to demand monetary compensation for something that was truly harmless and doesn't negatively affect the social standing or moral responsibility of a public institution of religion like the Manchester Cathedral.

The Church of England was only formed so a fat, obnoxious, murdering King could divorce his old wife and marry a new one.




Who should be sued over THAT one? Perhaps divorce offends me. Perhaps I feel that breaking away from the Catholic Church is an affront to God and corrupts my children. Do I get money for that? Can I bitch about that, and demand a public apology? Where's my money, bitches?

Send me a check, Church of England. Make the memo say "Sorry for the hypocrisy". Leave creative design like movies and video games alone, and focus on keeping your hands off altar boys.

"Give me my money, bitches!"

Check out this article which also bitches about Church of England bitching if you would like to hear more.

Paris Fucking Hilton

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Third Wheels

Third wheels.

I know that sounds like a stupid phrase that makes no sense, but it's the best way to accurately describe the situation at dinner tonight. We were third wheels. I know the phrase itself makes you scratch your head and think I'm retarded. It's like that movie Airheads when they called themselves The Lone Rangers...and everybody was like, "How can you be lone? There are three of you. You can't be alone if there are three of you. Shouldn't you be The Three Rangers, instead?". It's kinda like that.




Anyway, I'm off track.

Tonight we went out to dinner at a Japanese Steak House. If you've been to one before, you know how it works. They seat you at a table that surrounds a big stove top where they cook your dinner right before your very eyes....so you can verify you aren't eating cat.

Well, normally the table seats about eight people. So when you arrive, you are seated with total strangers and are forced to either eat in the kind of semi-silence indicative of college sex in the library stacks, or you make idle chit-chat with your dinner mates.

Tonight Jen and I got fucking blindsided by a dinner party of six gorram people.

SIX.

That means that Jen and I were the odd men out, and were forced to sit at a table full of people who came together, and who knew each other, and had stories to tell.

Needless to say, we were fucked. We didn't get to talk to them because they were too busy being loud and obnoxious about their opinions on everything from property values to when it's a good time to have babies.

One of the girls at dinner was so obnoxious, I actually found myself staring at her rather large breasts and thinking to myself, "I wouldn't sleep with this woman. If I were single and she wanted my wonderful male member, I would have to lie and tell her I had the AIDS, or something."

That's how annoying she was. It didn't help that she was LOUD and MADE SURE THAT EVERYTHING SHE SAID WAS AN OCTAVE ABOVE THE WHITE NOISE COMING FROM ALL AROUND US IN THE RESTAURANT.


CAN YOU FUCKING PASS THE SALT, PLEASE? WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THERE'S NO SALT? DON'T THEY HAVE SALT IN CHINA? OH, JAPAN...WHATEVER, THEY'RE ALL ASIANS, RIGHT? I LOVE THIS SAUCE HERE, IT REMINDS ME OF THIS TIME IN COLLEGE WHEN WENDY AND I WERE TAKING TURNS LICKING...HEY, WAIT THIS DRINK TASTES FUNNY. WAITRESS-SAN, PLEASE GIVE ME A SODA THAT DOESN'T TASTE FLAT. DO YOU GUYS LIKE EATING HERE?

Er...are you talking to me?

YES! I MAY BE DRUNK AND ANNOYING TONIGHT, JUST FYI.

Really? I just assumed you were always annoying.

HAHAHA, YOU'RE FUNNY. THIS PLACE IS FUN, ISN'T IT?

It used to be.