Crappy Color Awareness

Another Breast Cancer Awareness season is upon us, leading me to reflect on how a once-noble cause has become the bane of my available color spectrum. Pink is no longer the odd color out in the crayon box or an overpriced men's store - it's cheap business code for "we care. seriously, we care."

I get it, it's pink, you'll donate some of your Chex Mix to help those suffering from this shockingly pervasive disease. But come on, corporate America. You came up with the McGriddle and you're telling me you can't do any better than pink?

There's isn't a disease or cause out there today that isn't color-coded: LiveStrong, Orange Revolutions, the altogether bewildering mix of Autism's colorful wrath. It's been this way for a while, too.

the only cancer that kinda makes me feel bad for looking at boobs

One day, when I was in school years ago, people were handing out white ribbons. I had already taken the appropriately blasé stance towards color-coded causes at this point, so I declined their offer. Was everyone wearing one? Yes. Were they intended to protest the KKK rally nearby? Yes, though I was unaware of that at the time. Regardless, I stand by my choice given the information I had at the time.

Point is, you can't just go with the flow, breast cancer. You're the original upbeat color of suffering! If Wal-Mart and Co. really wanna make bank off of this disease like they should, add some spice to your act. It's like exercising - nobody wanted to do it until someone literally jazzed it up.

My suggestion: red camo. First off, red is much closer to the color of blood than pink is (excluding Star Trek: VI) and blood is a sure-fire way to sell stuff. Secondly, nobody wants to be smeared by Glenn Beck for not supporting the troops and camo anything is the only way to show your authentic, unwavering support for our men and women overseas.

Boom. Cancer solved, money made, everyone's happy.

Uncelebrate

For those active job-seekers out there, might I suggest inquiring at Fidelity Investment's Marketing Department.

The job placement ad practically writes itself when I get emails with subjects like this:

"Celebrate September. Save more for retirement."


Am I missing something? Is there an anniversary I've forgotten about?

DOUBLE SPECIAL UPDATE

Best...meme...ever. Here and elsewhere.

God's Gift to the Internet

When I'm 24

I'm not sure when the Alzheimer's is going to set in, but lately I've realized my mental aging process has sped up rapidly.

I used to be able to oversee my capacity for forgetting why I crossed a room. Not anymore. Let me go over the new things that I recently realized bring me happiness:

- Getting excellent creases from dry cleaned pants

- Going to bed at 9:30 on a weeknight

- Sitting

- Eating food that requires little effort to chew (most notably, pudding)

- Walking slowly

- Sitting


I wish I could point to some factor that's increased my senility, but, then again, I don't think I want to. Hell, I love pudding.

Oh My God

Blackout

After Jimmy Carter's hilarious cry of racism on some who oppose Obama's healthcare policies, the head of the GOP has now called out Obama's racist attempt to depose New York's governor.

Move over Anti-Semitism - your days as #1 name-smudger are over! Racism is the new, slanderously potent kid on the block.

After the p.c. years of the Clinton era, regular folks like you and me have their ignorant swagger back. I'm tired of having my feelings oppressed, too! If I wanna underscore my own racism, then I'll be damned if you're gonna stop me from pointing out someone else's.

fig. a - Racism

I doubt there can be any foe powerful enough to stand in my anti-racist way. Did you just cut me off walking through the subway doors? Maybe you shouldn't have that racist attitude. Blaring loud music on your SUV? Turn it down, Bull Connor.

No raise at work? Racist. Gum on my shoe? Racist. Calling me a cracker who should leave your neighborhood? Up for debate on the grounds that I don't want to get beat up.

Especially after another annoying-as-hell round of local Democratic primaries here in NYC, racism could be the key to my happiness. Wanna shake my hand every day in the subway when I go to work? I shoulda stood outside every day next to every candidate and called them out for who they really are - racists.

Eureka

So I've been following my dreams for a few weeks now, trying to write down what I remember and trying to remember what the hell happened in the first place.

Aside from the obvious bizarro things that everyone gets (rectangular rashes, lost teeth, having a friend's parents party too hard and prevent me from getting to work on time, etc.), I've been shocked by the number of "no shit" and "this is utterly meaningless" visions.

"Mr. Hooper?!"

Yeah, I get it dreambrain - I'm worried about paying those bills on time. And yes, I know, it was sweet to ride go karts. Having an unconscious image of unpaid bills flying around me while I drive a go kart does nothing to change the matter.

The real shocker was a couple weeks ago when I woke myself up with laughter from a joke in a dream.

What was the joke? I have no idea. But I do know the punchline: a thunderously delivered "JULIA CHILDS!!"

I've long considered sleep to be something enjoyed whilst doing it but, for the most part, an extreme annoyance that gets in the way of doing real things like watching TV. With the arrival of this culinary master into my deep subconscious through a farcical form, I can say for sure that my brain is in on the rouse. If only it knew better.

Dropped But Not Forgotten

Friday links, dedicated to the guy who dropped his iPhone onto the subway tracks at Union Square this morning. Inexplicably, he just walked away after dropping it. Consider it gone, my friend.


Chart of News Articles from 1980-1989 concerning "pudding" - Google

There appears to have been a surge of pudding-related articles around 1950, a rate not matched until the '80's.

This is ridiculous. I love Google.


JON AND KATE'S KIDS START SCHOOL! - NY Post

Speaks for itself.


Bald Penguin Gets Sunburn Wetsuit - BBC News

I'm not uncovering some hidden story here, but humans altering the Darwinian fate of cute animals always brings a smile to my face.

Vacation, All I Never Wanted

ALERT ALERT. In case your summer reading list isn't already weighed down with books you'll never open, check out the Obama family's vacation reading list.

Of course, I could care less about this list because books, by definition, are stupid. I only bring the internet and a Game Boy with me on all trips I take.

The important results of this news are the democracy-engendering comments produced by America's self-defeatingly witty readers. As always, the poorer the grammar the more effective the blow:

"1. Bob Mandakas 08.25.09
How about reading the CONSITUTION that would be good"

Touche, Bob - that would be very good. Never mind those party poopers who followed your comment by referring to Obama's time as a Constitutional Law professor at Liberal State U.

I'll leave it to a vaguely Eastern European internet user to complete the next logical thought:

"14. Lynn 08.25.09
Is it a custome for the President in US to have a book-reading list in vocation? I think it’s good! And with a Bible would be perfect!"

To quote a man much wiser than myself, "I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free."

Entering the Unknown

When I was a kid, perhaps the sweetest purchase I could make was the grab bag at a local drug store. To be honest, it didn't matter what was inside - it was a variety bag to be grabbed, so the entertainment was inherent.

I had mostly forgotten about this until a few weeks ago when, poking around eBay, I decided to look up some lot auctions that sell a bunch of things at once.

Immediately I came across an auction of 30 shirts...for $60. That, my friends, is a bargain. And not only is it a bargain, but the seller refused to describe the different sizes of the shirts, maxing out the intrigue factor.

They could all be my size or all XXXXL - there is much potential to waste $60 here. But then again...it's a grab bag of shirts. A grab bag.

I ended up not bidding but it left me with the impression that grab bags are the perfect way for any store to come through in these recessed times. I could give a rat's ass about most retailers, be they online or storefront. But if poorlyconstructedhandbag.com had a grab bag sale...I might be needing some handbags.

Hell, why don't car dealers give it shot? Lord knows I'm not going to consider buying a new, American vehicle unless it's the last running motor on earth. And I'd probably still go for the Honda. But if Chevy offered me a random assortment of vehicles for $50,000...I'd be tempted. They could be the complete, brand-new line of electric vehicles or a fleet of '86 Novas but that is a risk I am morally obligated to take.

Brute Hilarity

People all over are decrying the return of right-wing extremists these days, be it the Homeland Security folks, the SPLC, or your friendly, neighborhood liberalite.

First off, I thought their "return" was the past eight years. But more importantly, I say bring on the nutjobs. God willing, the FBI and whatnot will keep a tab on the violence, because these guys are just too darned funny not to have around.

When was the last time someone brought a gun to a public meeting on healthcare? Why on Earth would this be necessary? Of course it's not necessary, but it is hilarious.

I know we've reached the line of no return when people do stuff like this:

This week, the Secret Service detained a man outside a congressional town hall meeting in Maryland. He was carrying a sign reading “Death to Obama.” Referring to the president’s wife and daughters, the sign also read, “Death to Michelle and her two stupid kids.” (Christian Science Monitor)

My only real complaint, aside from the death part, is that these people can't find more creative ways of voicing their unecessarily vehement anger. If chanting "death to blankety-blank" is the best they can do, they gotta reassess their priorities. Although I do admit, those kids might be stupid.

at a recent town hall meeting, Lebanon, PA

I'm not going to listen to something from the colloquial chum bucket - get some rhymes in there! Refer to a long-standing yet unrelated event that provokes irrational anger! How about a haiku to put those Ivy League tightwads in tizzy:

Barack's healthcare? Great.
But my healthcare? Not so great.
Roe v. Wade? Still dumb.

That's free of charge, nutty right-wingers. Now go back out there, preferably without so many weapons, and show those communist surrender monkeys who really represents 1.3% of the population.

Love in My Tummy

Apologies for the lack of posts lately. I will give you no acceptable reason for my e-absence.

I am a big fan of web page comments. I am also a ginormous fan of Nong Shim Ramen. Today, the interweb and noodle gods have conferred and blessed me with this piece of love from Amazon's Nong Shim Spicy Ramen (the best kind, really) page:

good snack and meal, April 2, 2009
By D. S. Lee "dong" (silver
spring, md)
My family like all kind of Ramyun. I like spicy but my children
doesn't. But this Rymyun my chuildren like very much. All family enjoy Shin
Ramyun.

I gotta agree with Dong on this one: all family do enjoy this product, especially my family of one.

Everything But The Kitchen Link

Believe.


HO-BROKEN: MAYOR QUITS AFTER 3 WEEKS ON JOB AMID CORRUPTION SCANDAL - NY Post

Classic Post.



Dubai's Twirling Tower - Christian Science Monitor

Worthy for this comment which I, at first, took to be a poem. After thinking it was just another comment, I now think that it is actually a poem:

"Stacey 06.26.08

Frankly, I think it’s ugly,
and bad fung shui to boot!
Millions for an apartment in that?
What a waste of money.
Just another testimony to the grasping emptiness of shallow worldy values.
pfft!"

Commuter Cat is Star of Bus Route - BBC News

Poor Britain. Once the world's greatest power, now its top source for cat-commuting trivia.

So my office is insanely awkward. Maybe it's just because I'm one of the youngest people here by a long shot...actually, no - people here are just really awkward.

What's worse is that my cubicle is right next to a main walkway and the walls of my cubicle are about 3 feet high, so anyone that walks past will see me.

Do I say hello to all these coworkers? I'd be happy to, but only a handful actually say hello and sometimes these people don't even recognize my presence. This leads to an incredibly awkward and erratic pattern of me saying hello, people not hearing or ignoring me, people saying hello to me while I'm trying to ignore them, thinking they won't say hello, etc., etc.

I've come upon a solution, however: an automated greeting machine, similar to the Halloween decoration we had when I was a kid that made a six second-long "spooky" noise whenever you walked past. Six seconds is way too long for a MIDI-generated ghost noise.

remove the cheer and beating heart and we've got a deal

If someone walks by my desk now, I could dispense with the meaningless formalities and give them an automatic greeting. Settings could be adjusted for different times of the day, different people, or even changes in the weather! People would no longer feel compelled to awkwardly greet me and I would no longer have to put up with having to guess if people don't like me, don't hear me, or just don't care.

Even better, this could make the situation more awkward than it already is. People would then avoid walking past my cubicle altogether and I would never have to worry about someone seeing the 13 sudoku puzzles I do every day.

233 Years of Freedom From This

Leave it to the British: The Lying Down Game. See the Facebook page for more convincing evidence.

It's all the rage over there these days but I feel conflicted. This is fucking retarded. But this is also hilarious.

I've decided that it's probably a good thing since the internet memes of yore, like suicide bombers in Iraq, don't have quite the same impact that they used to. LOLcats? A blessed reprieve from the dark days of 2008, but nothing more at this point.

I will be taking bets on when this will start taking over the American interweb. Over/under is 45 days from now.

Important Office Security, Pt. 2

401(k) optional

I've complained about my office internet-blocker before, but today it's provided me with a touch of joy.

If you're interested in global security (*adjusts glasses*), I suggest you check out Jihadica. Informative news and analysis - the kind of the thing that actually qualifies as news.

Anyways, I thought to check out the site today and see what's going on for all those misguided youth out there when, inexplicably, the page was blocked by my office. It gave me this, which I can only assume means we're now using Iraq's internet-blocking service:


"THIS WEBSITE HAS BEEN BLOCKED.

REASON: THE CATEGORY "JOB SEARCH" IS FILTERED"


Touche.

Like a Fine Wine?

I've discovered that New York has a habit of making up for its sins against you, though in its own New York way. Recent experiences:


I HATE NEW YORK...: While at a treacherous crosswalk by my office, the "walk" sign turns on. Me and some older guy start to walk across when the old guy suddenly holds out his hand to stop me. A ritzy car has pulled out from BEHIND CARS STOPPED AT THE RED LIGHT and proceeded to RUN THE RED LIGHT WHILE TRYING TO KILL ME. I make an ineffective show of exasperation towards the driver.

...BUT I LOVE NEW YORK, I THINK: The old guy flicks off the driver and says in a thick, local accent, "That fucking scumbag. I hope he fucking dies on the way home." The old man may or may not have had a full complement of teeth.



I HATE NEW YORK...: I was walking to an appointment with my landlord the other day when I noticed a bug had landed on my suit. I try brush it off when I discover that it is not a bug but is, instead, bird poop. Bird poop on my suit. I touched bird poop with my hand.

...BUT I LOVE NEW YORK, I THINK: At the appointment, I got to shake my landlord's hand with the hand that touched the bird poop.

Give Me That Old-time Science

At this point, I can speak for all of us when I say that the predictions of science and literature from the past 50 years have let us down tremendously.

Okay, the moon landing worked out alright. But come on, smart-alecky folks at MIT, NASA and Issac Asimov's brain trust - where are all the cool things we were promised? No colonies on Mars, no eradication of disease, and, most importantly, no spaceships capable of light speed captained by William Shatner.

We shouldn't get all chipper about the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11 landing. If people in the 1960s could get to the Moon, why the hell are we languishing here on Earth today? Do you realize this is the same decade that brought us Gumby and Lawrence Welk?? Those people got to the Moon, yet we, 40 years later, cannot even leave Iraq. Slam dunk, 1960s.

I will give us this: we've got the creepy thing down pat. They barely had rock 'n roll back then - today, we have trumpet-playing robots that would weird out even HAL of 2001. But I guess we could always count on the Japanese for that.

oh, how far we've come.

If I could go back in time, I'd have some choice words for the people of 1969: "You better effin' enjoy this, because it's only going downhill from here. The space program may have gotten you to the place of man's dreams, but from here on out it'll only get you an endless orbital program that generates hilarity, pointlessness and diapered pilots. But don't worry, this will cost billions, too."

I'd probably tell them that everything else will be better, though. Especially late-night programming on PBS.

All the same, with the American psyche at a low matched only by the Herbert Hoover years, we could use a jump start. Better to resurrect our crushed dreams than a darn confusin' economy or dismal foreign policy. Afghanistan? Pfft. I don't see Afghanistan on a space map.

Two Birds with One Homeless Man

As I was sitting on the subway today for a couple of lunchtime rides, I encountered a homeless man on both ends of the journey. Upon arriving to each station, the man would state with excellent enunciation what subway-line transfers were available. At 34th street, he noted with a musical flourish that a connection was also available for PATH trains to New Jersey.

At a time when the MTA could not be further from the top of the "list of things I'm pleased to pay money for", a new answer dawned on me: why can't the homeless run the MTA?

Points to be made:
- The homeless do not require state-draining pension plans
- They obviously know the city like the back of their unkempt hands
- 24-hour service is no problem
- Homeless people are more likeable than the MTA
- They live in the subway, as it is
- We would all feel less guilty about ignoring them
- Urine smell would be less disconcerting

get off that bench - and into our hearts!

Most importantly, I can never understand a god-damned word over the P.A. system in the subway. This homeless man's voice, and delightfully intoned touch at the end, could not have been clearer. Think about it; all homeless people do is make announcements all day. Why not steer their vocal training away from street corners towards a less annoying and more productive endeavor?

To be honest, I bet an assembly of homeless people could do a better job with the state senate, too, but I'll stick with the subway for now.

Understating Things

From MTV's article on the Hermione girl kissing the Ron kid in the new Harry Potter movie comes a thoughtful comment:

"bamagirl posted on 07.13.09 at 05:15pm

Awesome!! This kiss is so HIGHLY anticipated! Everyone has been waiting on Ron and Hermione to get it together for YEARS! So I can't wait to see it in Deathly Hallows. Apparently it only took them like 6 takes to film it so clearly they did it right. I can't believe HALF BLOOD PRINCE is finally here!! YES!!!l"

And...this is the only comment on the article. "Article", really.

Man Awesomed to Death

Participating in the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain has always sounded pretty retarded to me. Of course, this is the same country that has a village-wide tomato fight so they usually got a pass.

My patience was put to a test recently with the death of a man in this year's running. I suggest you read the article for the important bits like "speared in the lung" and "thrill seekers stay up all night drinking" before running with 1-ton, horned animals.

Surely the Spanish should be judged for this. Hungover while running with bulls? I would probably say this is a no-brainer but then I realized the crucial evidence that convinces me otherwise - dying in this event is a death by goring.

is not so great, akshuly

That has to be the manliest way to go. Shot in a duel? Sounds kinda unnecessary. Drowned by a sea monster? Beowulf didn't - why should you, wuss? But gored to death by a wild animal...this is the essence of the awesome, totally-worth-it death. Millenia may pass but the local registar's office will always have "gored" next to your name in the town death book or whatever.

If only the poor souls who have died most awkwardly (obviously autoerotic asphyxiation) or idiotically could be tagged with a sweet name. O.D. on pills? Nah - dude just got Michael Jacksoned.

But that may not work, either.

Anyone Interested?

Then read on, you single dudes out there. You know who you are.

Animalistic

Animals are pretty awesome. Needless to say, though, animals become even more awesome when humans harness their power in numbers. Check it: Hotel for Snakes. I'm not a snake person, but I have to admit that 13 snakes is way better than one snake.

Human mastery of animals is vastly underutilized. Computers? Green technology? These things are not the future. Perhaps it gives me the internet, and thus lolcats, anywhere I damn well please, but I still get mosquito bites. ANIMAL IMPROVEMENT: wear sleeve of small birds that protect my body from flying insects and swoop onto local strays, providing cat-themed entertainment.

what a waste of biomass

Is there nothing squads of trained animals can't do? They say a roomful of monkeys would end up writing Hamlet, but I think we can all agree that they're more likely to write a hilarious bro-comedy starring Jonah Hill and Richard Gere. Though that movie basically writes itself, anyways. Point being, Hamlet sucks and who didn't love Superbad??? Boom. Animals.

Heads up, America. Tough times hard on your wallet? Then quit buying that expensive-brand meat at the grocery store and employ a flock of deadly hawks to hunt down and bring back gobs of delicious wildlife. Hell, you can start selling the leftovers at farmer's markets - city folk love that kinda stuff.

Playin' the Links

More money, more problems.


Moscow ready for better U.S. relation, Medvedev blogs - CNN

I wonder what Obama will blog back.

Also, I love the Barry Egan shade of blue on Medvedev's suit.


Speaking of Barry Egan, turns out the whole thing about Healthy Choice pudding and airline miles is true.


DESIGNER SCENT 'EM RUNNING - NY Post

Love this quote, which sounds like the perspective of a 9-year-old who's just discovered Mortal Kombat:

"The perfume panic shows how the once-dingy Meatpacking District has changed. A decade ago, visitors gagged from the puddles of blood and the nauseating smell of rotting meat. It came from the carcasses dangling from hooks in the meatpacking warehouses, most of which have been replaced by designer stores and pricey restaurants."

That'll show 'em.

A Creamy Ending

The Iowa State Fair is going to have a statue of Michael Jackson carved in butter. Good, I suppose, but you can do better.

Aside from reading "King of Pop" as "King of Poo" every time I scan the headlines, I'd prefer some other celebrity in butter. I mean, come on, Orson Welles? Margaret Thatcher? So many good choices.


P.S. - There's a picture of a butter-statue Obama out there that shows him as a neo-Nazi of sorts...so you should check that out.

Sad McMahon

With the death of demi-god Billy Mays this weekend, the past several days have been perhaps the most dangerous time for celebrities since Hollywood Squares first aired.

His passing will be prominently remembered because not only was he awesome, but he was the only celebrity with enough balls to out-die Michael Jackson. The man is born a month before the King of Pop and dies only days after him, even copping MJ's style with a heart attack - that takes cajones.

Of course, it's easy to conclude that the real loser from this past week is Ed McMahon. To wit:

Farrah Fawcett: dead at 62 years old (anal cancer)...was hot in the '7os...still kinda hot until her passing

Billy Mays: dead at 50 years old (heart attack)...made me want to pry open my miserly billfold for products I didn't need, though they did clean really well

Michael Jackson: dead at 50 years old (heart attack)...ruled world of music for a generation...ruled People magazine for the next generation

Ed McMahon: dead at 86 years old (oldness)...made Johnny Carson look better in comparison...delivered giant checks


Yeah, sorry Ed. Farrah's death right after yours was almost enough to cloud the memory of your passing, but Michael Jackson really put your mourning next to the baking soda at the back of our nation's fridge. To rub it in, all-around kingpin of culture Billy Mays passed away after all this, cementing your irrelevant status as the dead guy that only dead people care about.

the transition lenses go silent...Ed McMahon, 1827 - 2009

No suspenseful heart attack or stigma-defying cancer of hilarious body parts for Ed - just "a multitude of health issues," as the doctors put it, medical speak for "we don't care". Dying at 62? Tragic. Dying at 50? Shocking. Dying at 86? Well...why didn't you die at 62? Fact: ironic celebrities have an exponential chance of being remembered the closer they die to the age of 55 (and vice versa the farther away - see Brad Renfro).

I never really paid much attention to him. He seemed like a decent guy, though, and Phil Hartman (R.I.P.) did a great job of mocking him on national television. Ed McMahon, you're about to be forgotten, so here's my permanent e-memorial to you, barring me deleting this entry.

I Link, Therefore I Am

Just in case you were wondering, searching Google News for "pudding" isn't nearly as funny as searching for "puddin". Also, this.


Google News results for "squeegee"

Don't ask.


JACKO HAS GONE TO 'NEVERLAND' - NY Post

I knew the Post would find a way to be hilariously callous about this.


TOUGHY by Karl Ackermann

Not news, but the embodiment of everything that is good about Flash animation. I could watch this all day.

Ring a Ding

Dumb ringtones are the worst. People seem to forget that a ring tone is something that can be heard by everyone, not just the phone's owner. And nowhere is this more true than in a location where cell phones are decidedly unwelcome.

One person in my office used to have the creepy whistle theme from Kill Bill as their ringtone. Of course, they were never around, so several times a day my echoey, poorly soundproofed office would reverberate with a disturbing whistle.

Another person, from Jamaica, has a Caribbean-themed ring. Yes, you are from the Caribbean. Every time I think I'll forget that fact, the repeated echo of a three-second-long steel drum tune rings in my skull, ensuring that I will never, ever misplace your cultural identity.

I think we just enjoy pissing others off with our cell phone rings. Hell, now they even do it in Iraq, proof that we did our best to eff up what's become an ethnic Frankenstein. Unless I'm mistaken, someone's cell phone went off in Iraqi parliament a few years ago, prompting everyone to storm out. Not because their phone went off in a parliament session, mind you, but because the little song on it pissed people off.

Maybe I should just join the boat on this one and start using Steve Urkel's laugh on my phone, though maybe that's already claimed by the Kurds.

Lazy Days

Perhaps you came across the adorable/fawning-press story a couple weeks back about Obama handing an absence note to a kid attending one of his speeches.

Take note that the kid wasn't sick, at a family funeral/wedding, or off looking at colleges - she was skipping school to hang out with the president.

Instead of chastising this blatant abuse of presidential authority (do they even have the authority to write an absence note?), I'm going to take inspiration. Every day at 2pm, I'll check out of the office and return the next morning with a special absence note, written by some figure of authority.

Reagan-era sense of entitlement not included

Hell, I could make up figures of authority to sign notes. But why do that when there's plenty of opportunities in New York? What if I hit up a Mayor Bloomberg event - can't refuse an excuse from him. Or maybe I should stake out some overrated restaurant until a celebrity showed up. No way my boss would refuse a hand-written note from Tim Gunn, though he would probably chastise my poor color coordination.

Of course, there are more everyday, simple solutions; just get an absence note from a New York City firefighter. Unless your boss/principal/overlord wants to be labeled as an unpatriotic hater of heroes, there's no way that note could be denied. Easy as pie.

There's just no reason not to play hooky. And you can thank President Obama for that.

No.

For some reason, this evokes anti-pity in me.



BTW, next time I'm getting assaulted I'm going to tweet about it, since this will incur the quickest response.

And should tweet be capitalized?

Manlinka Warrior

For boredom's posterity.


'The Proposal' likely to jilt awards bridesmaid Sandra Bullock - Los Angeles Times

Ho ho! I love bitchy reviews and this has so many!! Man. So bitchy.


MTA RIDERSHIP IN $LIDERSHIP - NY Post

I desperately wish I had some kind of portable device that made the "wah wah" noise of a trumpet after a bad joke.


Peter Pan saves the Earth by giving you less peanut butter - The Consumerist

The math is dubious, but I can't argue with this comment:

"NerdBurger _GitEmSteveDave 11:56 AM
The answer is simple. By removing the salmonella from their peanut butter, they reduced the total amount."

Heyo!


BTW, get a Orange Julius smoothie or A&W Root Beer Float for free today. Because I won't. Blurg.

Back from the Suture

I saw David Carradine's clone coming out of the subway yesterday, which got me thinking about the original David Carradine's death.

The summary from basically all of the obituaries about him start with, "The star of 'Kung Fu' and 'Kill Bill'," which kinda sucks for the rest of his career.

To be honest, I only remembered who he was after I thought of those Yellow Book commercials:

A Serious Pair of Ball

In the aftermath of the NHL playoffs, a handful of ridiculous played-through-the-injury stories come out. When your playoff season is two months long, I guess it's inevitable.

This normally means stuff like torn ligaments, broken bones, or effed up critical organs. But this year is different and Nick Lidstrom of the Detroit Red Wings has earned my eternal respect. Why? After getting speared in the testicle in the last playoff round, he practiced for a couple days, had surgery, then played in the finals.

Needless to say, he called it the most painful injury he's ever received in hockey.

Nick Lidstrom (artist's conception)

This has spawned many e-articles on the matter and, of course, the best part of e-articles are the comments they result in. I leave you with this two-hit combo from the LA Times (link).

"Interesting that when Bobbit's penis was unsurgically removed they found it in a ditch and reattached it in a marathon operation. When an athlete has a testicle (his gonad) removed, he becomes a hero for persevering. But when a woman's uterus and ovaries (the female gonads) are removed 621,000 times each year for benign conditions, no one notices or calls her a hero for continuing to raise her family in the aftermath. Hail to the tough athlete, but don't forget about all those tough soccer moms out there who are enduring much worse.....
Posted by: Denise Cleveland Junes 15, 2009 at 07:08 AM "


"[Re: female gonad removal...] If one of them went out and played a hockey game less than a week after having her goodies removed, then I'd give some accolade. Until then, said woman is just another chick that's tough to be around.
Posted by: john June 15, 2009 at 01:12 PM "

I suppose I could ask why Denise feels the need to drag Mr. Bobbitt into this, but I'll leave that for another commenter who, like John, will most likely not be getting laid tonight.

A Modern-Day Mystery

So I was poking around on the internet, as I am wont to do, and stumbled across this poorly-constructed logo:


At first glance, there is only one possible thing that acronym could be. At second glance I was proven wrong, but that doesn't mean that the well-intentioned people who run this organization haven't chosen a horribly comic acronym. One wonders how they had the foresight to not name themselves the Massachusetts Illiteracy Foundation.

Anyways, the story should've ended there, but I decided to take action.

First, a Google search for MLF. This was just confusing and I'm baffled at the number of misspelled acronyms and obscure scientific terms this search encompasses.

Second, just what is our literacy rate? For the U.S., it's supposedly 99% but there's no actual data to back that up. Just to confuse things, Wikianswers provides this solution:

"Q. What is the literacy rate in the U.S.?
A. The Literacy Rate Of The United States Is About 99.0%. no it's not that's incorrect"

Oh, okay.

Literacy as a social malaise sounds so old school, like this is one of the nation's biggest issues after child labor, cholera epidemics, and shirtwaist factories burning down. Which, surprisingly, are still our greatest problems (see: child labor, epidemics, shirtwaist issues). Oopsies.

In the Parlink of Our Times

Deelish.


City Seeks to Evict Bicycle-Riding Rooster - ZooToo Pet News

The guy who owns this rooster sounds like an annoying douchebag. But hey, anytime an animal is trained to do a meaningless task I support it. See: rat on a cat on a dog.


IRAN'S CHOICE: BALLOTS, NUKES & NUTS - NY Post

Yes, I suppose that is exactly what they are choosing over.


The 10 Most Absurd Time Covers of the Past 40 Years - reasononline

If kids actually looked like that when they saw porn on the internet, we should be feeding it to them 24 hours a day with a live camera on their faces. America's Funniest Home Videos just got a new lease on life.

Spam is Delicious

I've usually scorned junk email but now that the era of effective spam blockers is in full swing, I think I actually like it.

The days of phishing and convincing people to buy impotence medication are long behind us. Now, the attack du jour seems to revolve around random phrases and cultural flashpoints (one subject I received: "On J. Simpson's flash" - I wish!).

One or two weird, misspelled emails a day are just enough to avoid my wrath and pique my curiousity. I've started rifling through all of the messages in my spam folder and constantly stumble across my new favorite.


From: Frances Wong
Subject: Solution for people who can't afford a classy watch

Though I am interested in this solution, the sender-name is always a dead giveaway in spam. I don't know anyone named Frances Wong, silly! Maybe if you followed this guy's lead instead...


From: originaltonyp
Subject: Suck it.

True, tonyp is original, if nothing else. But don't insult me, idiot.


From: damir.s
Subject: Come now pay less! Pilules!

PILULES?!?!?!?? *double-click


I also appreciate those who keep trying the same route, again and again, in the hopes that my spam blocker will be fooled.

From: me
Subject: Sorry, resigning our dinner.
From: me
Subject: Our teacher died.
From: me
Subject: Where is this place?
From: me
Subject: Chief wants you in office.
From: me
Subject: Sending you delivery boy.

I like to pretend this is all just my inner dialogue, though maybe it's just because they sound like they're from a Samuel Beckett play. If any of these subjects end up being my dying words, consider my life a success.

They say that one in every few million or so spam emails actually generate money. When you can send out billions in a day, that must make for a pretty good living. To tell you the truth, I'm slowly becoming more and more tempted to see where exactly all these spam emails lead me to. I'm sure there's a fellowship out there that can pay my way through this.

The Great Debate

One of the first things one can notice when living in New York is the preponderance of food fads. I think asian noodles were a fad a while ago. Now it's Vietnamese sandwiches, though this may be well-deserved.

One fad with some staying power, though, has been cupcakes. Every patisserie and over-priced bakery have a ridiculous, unnecessarily large selection. Cupcakes are good, I admit. As is non-cupped cake. But what about pie??

Pie may be the most versatile of all foods. Delicious breakfast pie? Quiche. Want one for lunch or dinner? Meat pie. And, obviously, the myriad of sweet and/or creamy things you can put in a dessert pie are limitless and only made better with ice or whipped cream.

exhibit (a): proving my point

But cake? Pshh. Cupcakes remain the gourmet asshole's favorite treat. How else is one supposed to treat one's self when they have a night alone at their Gramercy Park mansion? And whenever there's a fancy event, be it corporate or personal, people feel forced to choose cake. Poor form.

I bet if you asked someone if they'd rather have cake or pie at a graduation or company holiday party, they'd choose pie. Cake always suffers from the too-much-icing issue. Pie crust only suffers from the I-could-always-have-more-of-it issue. Think of it this way: what would you rather compete in, a cake-eating contest or a pie-eating contest? That's like asking someone if they'd rather watch Pay It Forward instead of Terminator 2.

Pie's one "drawback" is its size. Pie is really and truly best served in the standard pie size. Small pies, though adorable, are awkward to eat (do I use a fork? my hands?) and large pies are only good for breaking records. But can't we move past this discrimination? Martin Luther King, Jr. did.

exhibit (b): no amount of icing can hide or save this shitshow

If we all like pie, it seems only logical that we act to give it the place in the national consciousness/plate that it deserves. In an age where Joe the Plumber can become a celebrity, surely giving pie a little social boost can't hurt. Let's leave cake for the Bernie Madoffs of the world and start baking a better world.

Professor Flink

There is no better way to waste the final hours of your day.


OBAMA: THINGS ARE FINE WITH ME AND MERKEL - NY Post

Since when did the Post care about the relationship between an American President and a German Chancellor? Bizaree, un-Post territory.

Let me just add that a close second to this was an article on Obama's recent speech: WAY TO MECCA GOOD IMPRESSION.


Auto-Erotic Asphyxia's Deadly Thrill - ABC News

Aside from the headline that makes this sound like a plague that threatens our youth, I really have to admit that this is the #1 worst possible way of dying. Sure, the actual death part would kinda suck, but it's nothing compared to when they find your body. That kind of shame has to find you in the afterlife.

BTW, between 500 and 1,000 people die of this in America every year??


Chile police find suitcase made of cocaine - AP

Speaks for itself, really. I applaud the ingenuity and wonder how, if any, suitcases have gotten through before. Maybe if they had tried a laptop bag; those are pretty heavy, anyways.

Raw Savagery

Man. Fred Savage. I loved the Wonder Years and everything but we all know he's done jack since then. Hell, Winnie Cooper's not far behind - getting married after becoming a mathematician. Woof.

This guy's career is the weirdest thing I have ever seen. How does someone play a serial rapist in Law & Order while directing two episodes of That's So Raven. Only two, Fred? If you do more than one, you'd think you'd do several. Perhaps his directing was, in fact, not so Raven.

a picture of Fred Savage

Honestly, not much happened after the Kevin Arnold years. No capitalizing on being Fred Savage, no wacky drug stories, no nymphomaniacal years in college. He went to Stanford and majored in English. There were a few odd jobs in TV and film, all forgettable. Just plain ol' Fred Savage. Kind of a dork.

Nowadays he's directing some decent series and has a young family. Fred Savage.

Man, this was the least funny thing I've ever done.

Yeesh.

Not much time available today, so this'll have to be brief.

The Wikipedia article on freckles is pretty benign and starts with this classic freckle picture:

Fair enough.

The Wikipedia article on moles, however, starts with this picture:

Yikes. Unnecessary close-up. Thanks, but no thanks, Jimmy Wales.

Revelation

Maybe it's because the Beatles are in the news due to the newest edition of Rock Band, but I swore I saw Ringo Starr on the street today.

After a second look, I realized this guy actually looked like Ringo Starr if he tried too hard and had let himself go a little.

Which then prompted me to think that maybe, yes, the man I saw was Ringo Starr.

R.I.P.

Well, the decades of suspense are finally over: Archie's getting married! Yep, that Archie - the friend of Jughead, citizen of Riverdale, and embarrassing member of my childhood bookshelf.

I don't want to ruin the surprise, but I'll go ahead and do it anyways. He's gonna marry Veronica. Congratulations.

Why now, Archie? You had such a good thing going - the perfect scenario, really. The rich hottie and...the not-rich hottie. Unless I lost count, that's two hotties. And who doesn't want a coupla hotties engaged in jealous combat over you, especially if "you" is a bushy-eyebrowed coward with a permanent tic-tac-toe board on the side of your head?

this is kinda fucked up, right?

On top of it all, you had a pathetic friend whose misnomer, though not accurately describing his headgear, did capture the je ne seis quoi of a young man who unironically wears something resembling a crown. No matter what shenanigans befell you, this sidekick virtually guaranteed your superiority by comparison - but not anymore. Give this kid 6 Archie-less months and I bet he'll realize the joke you've made of him for the past 68 years. A pie in the face is least of your troubles when you've robbed a man of his pride and assault rifles remain legal.

Evidently the marriage issue will cover Archie's life 5 years after the deed has been done. Let me look into my crystal ball...ah, yes...I see a man tortured by the ennui of an elite he doesn't belong to, crushed by his inability to maintain social graces, and left empty through the scorn of his pampered children. Have fun, big guy.

Sphlinkter

useless news you can use!


Security warning over pease pudding - Press Association

Pushaw! Everyone knows you should pack pease pudding in your luggage!


HOW CAN A GAL FALL FOR THIS ALI-ASS? - NY Post

On point yet again, Post!


Shea Butter Blog

Finally, a website where I can get all my shea butter info in one place.

Ol' Nicky the Name

There's always a flock of evidence that journalists have too much time on their hands like redundant articles, idiotic cliches, blah blah. With the ascendancy of Barack Obama, however, the media's devised a new way of wasting our time: creating nicknames for him.

Obama. This is a relatively short and unique name that nobody can possibly misunderstand. Yet journalists insist on calling him anything except his God-given name, muddying an issue that should be crystal clear.

"Bam"? Do you pronounce this as "bahm" or "bam", like Emeril? To make matters worse, this shortened version of an already short name is favored by the NY Post. This doesn't bother me in and of itself but as they only write headlines in all caps, it makes me think they're using the acronym for the Brooklyn Academy of Music. The day the Post writes about the actual BAM means that a movie about steroids, brave cops, and Howard Stern must be playing there.

also goes by "Barack" or "Obama"

"O"? Gee, that's specific. What's especially confusing is that the Baltimore Orioles are nicknamed "The O's" (fair enough - oriole is a clumsy word). When your headline is "North Korean Nukes: O's Kick in the Teeth", I'm going to think that there's an unexplained connection between a Stalinist regime and the underperforming AL East.

It takes a truly bitter journalist, however, to come up with the best ones, so I'll let you discover those for yourself over on Sean Hannity's website. I can't help but point out that there are a total of 4 votes cast, one of them being for "Quark". Who knew?

our 44th president, to one person

Doesn't the media have anything better to do? I mean, aside from Sean Hannity, who'd be better served licking toilet bowls. I'd rather have 20 stories about the new baby seal at the zoo over presumptuous journalists hoping to spark the next cultural name-wave. Woof.

Apology Accepted!

In case you weren't aware of it, today is National Sorry Day in Australia, created as an annual apology to the Aborigines for royally screwing them over.

This would be a decent sentiment were it not for a half-ass name; it doesn't scream "reconciliation" so much as "whoops". If there's one thing politics have taught us, it's that a good name can make all the difference. Take a cue from America: it's called Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, not The Majority Saw Fit to Dehumanize and Enslave You for Profit for Over 300 Years But Now, Thankfully, Things Are Kinda Different Day.

Sorry? There's not a country in the world that couldn't have a National Sorry Day. You know, for things that I guess we're sorry for, but...I mean...I dunno, whatever. If it makes you happy, then yeah, we're sorry, but I'm playing Halo right now so we can talk later or something. To wit:


United States: National Sorry Day (for American Indians)
You get Sorry Day, we get to keep this:


France: National Sorry Day (for tourists)
Their plain disregard for tourism is evidently good for tourism. Sorry Day might calm my disbelief but I'll still never want go back.


Israel: National Sorry Day (for themselves)


Palestine: National Sorry Day (for themselves)


Japan: National Sorry Day (for forced prostitution)
Boy, could they care less.



Let's all get in on the fun - get Sorry!

Flushink

More links for all of us to feast upon.



Sec. Gates Says Guantanamo a "Taint" On U.S. Reputation - RTT News

You have opened a Pandora's box of sophomoric political references, my friend.


COP NAILS 'RAPIST' - NY Post

Now that's fitting justice! Also, since when does the word rapist warrant quotemarks? Thanks, Post.


Google news search for "butts"

I don't know why I bothered searching under this term, but I was shocked by the number of dreadful puns in these headlines, incorporating the term for a used cigarette.

Puns in news headlines, unless it's the Post, always make me cringe. A few years back, the Pittsburgh Penguins had a bunch of players from the Czech Republic, spawning numerous headlines to the tune of "Czechmate" or "Czechs and Balances". It made me sad.

Save Money - Ditch Science

One thing that's bugged me for a while is that there's a name for toasting stuff - the Maillard reaction. Let me point out that someone "discovered" this. It may be no surprise that this was "discovered" by a Frenchman.

This term is useful to two people:
a) Toast Scientists.
b) Assholes who get to tell you that the scientific name for toasting is the Maillard reaction.

Ok, Science. You've done some great things for us over the course of history (penicillin, energy drinks), but it's about time you cool your heels. Think about your most recent accomplishments: computers are a great segue to the intermission of your history. Segways, however, are not. Stop while you're ahead.

if only he'd stuck to mustache innovation

Useless terms for words we already have, pharmaceuticals that kill you, leaden toys...a vacation is overdue. You've done some good stuff but everyone needs a breather now and then - you haven't taken a break since the Renaissance. You wouldn't want Scottie Pippen on the court after he's completed a triathlon, would you? Did you know that Scottie Pippen can't run?

Get back to me when you start doing cool stuff again, like baking soda volcanoes or light sabers.

Nerds Come Home to Roost

Every time that someone mentions Hulu, I always think they meant to say Sulu.

But they didn't. They're saying Hulu.


:-(

Hobo Power

In all of the ruckus to find the greatest renewable energy, I think we're passing up on the most obvious solution: the homeless.

Really, I can't imagine how this is more expensive than developing better wind turbines or something. Instead of throwing billions at inefficient ethanol technology, why not have a bunch of homeless guys man a human-powered energy plant?

Crushing poverty and mental instability have coexisted since the beginning of time so we don't have to worry about running out of it. Best of all, we have homeless citizens in all our cities; no more terrorist-friendly oil, 'cause this natural resource is made right here in good old U.S. of A.

BOR-ING.

The real question is: what can the homeless do to generate power? Ride stationary bikes? No. That's for the bourgeois and those without drug-induced heart murmurs. If we can capture energy from walking around I think we can take it one step further and get energy from just sitting around. I point to the Pet Rock as proof that, as Americans, we can invent anything as long as we put our minds to it.

Why would the homeless be willing partners in this? Just give them ample motivation - a night's cot for a day's work, or access to busier, more prominent change-cup-rattling spots during their off-hours. I realize such benefits may empower some to rectify their situation and leave the program, but these same benefits may, in turn, entice new homeless recruits (English majors).

It's about time we embrace the energy that the good Lord has given us all.

Kissin' Cousins

While walking around today, I saw some women depart after a conversation, wherein they did the three-kisses-on-the-cheeks routine. Other than their Skeletor physiques and closely cropped, blonde hair, this was a dead giveaway to their ridiculous Europeanness.

There's plenty about Europeans that I feel comfortable mocking, but the kiss-on-the-cheek routine I find threatening. I would normally limit this kind of greeting to female family members, but European codes of conduct live to confuse me. I blame Asterix.

There have been a few times in my life when I've had to give hellos/goodbyes to continental Europeans and they have been rife with awkwardness. I either draw back my face in repulsive shock or lunge towards what's evidently the wrong cheek. Shame ensues.

hou hou, indeed

Starting with the right cheek right is only one of innumerable ways of effing this up. Do all European countries follow the same kissy-greet rules? Is this a female-only thing? A stranger-only thing? A friend-only thing? How many kisses are required? Do you actually kiss the cheek or make a retarded smooch sound instead? And what if I had a beard?

We should've made this a requirement with the Marshall Program - in exchange for the supplies necessary to sustain life and develop your nation, you have to start using the handshake as your basic greeting. Keep your wacky day/month/year format and the insistence on forgoing physical hygeine, but please, stick with the handshake. Obama, back me up on this.

Adios

I'm off on vacation for some exotic fun in the sun, so new posts will be sporadic. As long as I'm not decapitated.

Surely now my throngs of followers will have to check for updates even more often because of this anticipation!

Please Be Unseated

Whenever I take a coach bus, I have two priorities:
1. Window seat
2. A guarantee that nobody will sit next to me

In reality, having neither of these goals fulfilled isn't so bad but they are my goals, nonetheless.

That being said, it sticks in my craw that I rarely have goal #2 fulfilled. I've long thought about why this is. I realize my instinct to make a beeline for the window seat leaves a tantalizingly open aisle spot for the next rider. My Ichabod Crane body shape also allows for plenty of room for whatever stranger claims the seat next to me.

Always being stuck with someone next to me leaves me with having to deter people from doing so. I've tried sitting in the aisle seat first, but that just makes you look like an asshole when someone requests the open window seat. Ditto for "accidentally" leaving your bag on the seat next to you. A wide, intimidating sitting posture, intended to take up a seat and a half to protect ground, is a useless endeavor (see last paragraph).

he did not have this problem

I may have stumbled upon an effective repellent, however. Rushing onto a bus yesterday, I had no time to stop and eat a meal. I grabbed some pizza and took it with me to make sure I was there on time. Having reached the bus and my coveted window seat, I proceeded to tear into my sub-par, overpriced dinner.

Bit by bit, the bus filled up. My fears grew. Yet, time after time, people would pass over my seat for another one next to a different stranger. They would slowly walk up, pause in delight at the available seat, slightly recoil when seeing me, then move on.

Of course - I should've known! Nobody wants to sit next to the kid chowing down on greasy food. I've done the same thing many times, myself. The greasy-food passenger is like the slightly overweight kid in elementary school who breathes through their mouth: he who sits next to them risks a smelly, socially uncomfortable journey.

Eventually, the bus was filled to capacity. But I can say that the very last person to board that bus was forced to take the seat next to me. And their hesitance to take this final, open spot assures me that I have found the path to victory. But my hands did smell funny after eating that pizza.

Hobo Knows

I remember reading about hobo tent cities popping up in California, but get ready for the new hobo phenomenon: Hobo Paradise.

Aside from the crushing sadness of this story, you know an economic crisis is serious when the homeless start talking about hobo Valhallas out in the middle of Arizona. Their ascendancy is upon us.

Outbreak of Lies

I just wanted to let everyone know that they shouldn't worry about this "Swine Flu" phenomenon. It is, in fact, completely fake.

How many kinds of flu can there be? I thought there was just regular flu, which sucks as it is, but then they gave us avian flu. Now there's swine flu? I think some bored scientist out there just wanted to use another fancy word for describing a tawdry animal.

If people are going to conjure up fake diseases, though, I'd rather they focus on ones that we can all join in on. Calling into the office sick with random-animal flu these days doesn't really cut it - your bluff is immediately revealed.

Why not spread talk about a "pigeon flu"? Never heard of it, you say? Well, it's a rather nasty disease but not life-threatening. Best of all, it only lasts a day or two. Interested?

Pigeons get a bad rap as a filthy animal - after all, they live in conditions that are only marginally better than most homeless people, though this is mostly because the homeless can't yet live in trees. They're everywhere, too, so we're all susceptible. Throw in some urban myth about homeless pigeon breeding and you have an unbeatable combo.

a cunning move, my friend

Due to its non-existence, the Columbidavian Flu would probably dissipate in a matter of days. You'll have to seize the initiative on this one. Take that sick day as soon as you can before the epidemic retreats back into the unknown! People will gradually forget it ever happened, like the anticlimactic blackout from 6 years ago.

You will get not only a free day off but a weird-disease story to share with your pals, too. You're welcome.

R.I.P.

Bea Arthur, truly a Golden Gal.





Probably the classiest person to cross to the other side since Cary Grant.

I Link Therefore I Am

More links.


ECONOMY'S SO BEASTLY...BRONX ZOO FIRES ANIMALS - NY Post

Even animals are getting fired?? THIS IS WORSE THAN I THOUGHT. THANKS, POST!!!

Best tidbit from the article's comment section:

"IwalkinTheValleyOfDeathIFearNoEvilIAmTheBaddestMFERInTheValley wrote:

Clinton Hateful and stupid always ends badly.

4/24/2009 10:49 AM EDT"

I love the Post.


Possible interrogation probe dashes hopes for bipartisanship under Obama - FOXNews

Evidently bipartisanship means "ignoring possible crimes against humanity".

Keep on diggin' that hole, guys. See you in China.


Ill Leno cancels taping of show - BBC News

Doesn't that sound like a good band name? Ill Leno.

Change for America

I used to carry about a fair amount of change. Not on purpose, really, but I was mostly too lazy to bother taking it out of my pockets after various purchases.

Tired of all the jingling and weight, I started a conscious effort a couple months ago to quit with the change-carrying and stick with bills. After a good start, my new strategy has backfired in a big way.

Specifically, the majority of the purchases I've made in the past few weeks have all been slightly more than a rounded dollar amount. There is no embarrassment quite like a Duane Reade attendant's glare as you hand them two dollar bills for a candy bar that costs $1.13. "You don't have 13 cents?" No. No, I do not and yes, I want to leave.

and you feel shame.

Yesterday I was in a corner store, hoping to grab a soda for the road. I had a one-dollar bill and a 20-dollar bill. I also thought I had 35 cents in change. Bring it.

Instead of the safe, reliably-75-cents can, I noticed that the 20 oz. bottles were on sale - for 94 cents! Even if NYC's ridiculously high taxes blow this baby over a dollar, I have 35 cents to cover me, I thought.

I get to the counter and ready myself. The total is $1.08. I started digging through my bag for the change I thought I had, but it was then I remembered that I had earlier used this 35 cents on a banana. This was, in fact, why I had specifically brought 35 cents.

Had my ill-chosen soda been five cents cheaper, I could've convinced the clerk to let it slide. Three cents? Sure, use the penny tray. But eight cents? Get your dime, son.

Anyways, I was left with the second-worst option I had next to being a man in a suit who can't afford a soda - paying with a 20-dollar bill. The shame was complete, my apologies profuse, and I left a broken man.

Never again.

America's Bestime

Minor league baseball is pretty sweet, mostly for the bootleg concept behind it: they're not quite the pros yet are only somewhat more legit than a YMCA summer sports camp. Thus it breeds the finest example of capitalist creativity that America has to offer, the promotional giveaway night.

Win a Used Car Night was immensely popular, but my favorite promotion as a kid was Elvis Night, where people weighing over 250 lbs. were given a free jelly donut. A scale was provided at the front gate.

In that spirit, I applaud the marketing whiz that came up with another classic in Van Down by the River Night. Somehow, you get to win money.

if you hand out donuts for free, they will come

I've always wanted to know someone who had some wild, random success happen upon them. Like if I knew the winner of a lottery or the guy who was saved on the subway tracks a couple years ago. Imagine if you knew someone who was made rich from a creepy van promotion. A boy can dream.

That was going to be it, but here's a list of the best promotions from 2008, alone. Using a tent spike to find the keys to some old guy's car in the warning track?? Just...just genius. I have hope.