This is what funny looks like. Don't forget to vote. It's right there on the screen. PS? It's the funny button not the other. I throw that in just in case you're stoned.
http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/6d184aa866
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Gimmee Some Sugah', Baby!
I just got back from the grocery store. I love driving. You see the most interesting things.
What can one say about a full grown man driving a Chevy Nova with a license plate that spells out sugar drop? Hmmmm...it's a tough one....This will take some ti---OH! Wait! I got it!
One can say - "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, you sad, silly little man. You make me laugh."
Yep. I think that about says it all.
What can one say about a full grown man driving a Chevy Nova with a license plate that spells out sugar drop? Hmmmm...it's a tough one....This will take some ti---OH! Wait! I got it!
One can say - "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, you sad, silly little man. You make me laugh."
Yep. I think that about says it all.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Wisdom Of The Ancients...Or, At Least, The Much Older Than I
As you are all aware, or soon shall be, I love lists. All lists. Sadly, occasionally, you will have to suffer for my amusement. Oh, well. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.
So, without further ado, a list I compiled of my favorite quotes. Some have explanations. Some don't. Some are pithy. Some are pissy. It's a crap shoot really.
PS For future reference, the handy clown picture will allert you to the fact that a post was done while in the grip of insomnia. These are, generally, the most trivial of the drivel and should be avoided if at all possible.
It is better to have a permanent income than it is to be fascinating. - Oscar Wilde(NOTE: Oscar had both there for a while. I wonder if this quote was pre-prison or after. It would be interesting to find out. Unfortunately, I'm lazy. I guess we'll never know.)
Talk low, talk slow, and don't talk too much. - John Wayne
(NOTE: Advice that neither I nor any of my friends will ever follow.)
Don't be too timid and squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better. - Ralph Waldo Emerson
Don't try to solve serious matters in the middle of the night.- Philip K Dick
Outside of a dog, a book is mans best friend. Inside of a dog it’s too dark to read. -
Groucho Marx
As the poet said, 'Only God can make a tree' -- probably because it's so hard to figure out how to get the bark on. - Woody Allen
The absence of flaw in beauty is itself a flaw. - Havelock Ellis
They can conquer who believe they can. - Virgil
If you want to know what G-d thinks of money just look at the people He gives it to. -
Dorothy Parker
(NOTE: If only G-d could dislike me a billion dollars worth....Is it better to be loved by the Lord or rich? Ask Job.)
They sicken of the calm that know the storm. - Dorothy Parker
This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force. -
Dorothy Parker
(NOTE:Basically, this is how I feel about anything written by Ayn Rand.)
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,A medley of extemporanea; And love is a thing that can never go wrong; And I am Marie of Romania. - Dorothy Parker
What the world needs is more geniuses with humility. There are so few of us left. - Oscar Levant
Children are the only form of immortality that we can be sure of. - Peter Ustinov
Curiosity killed the cat but for a while I was a suspect. - Stephen Wright
Humor is by far the most significant activity of the human brain. - Edward De Bono
Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you walk into an open sewer and die. -
Mel Brooks
Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh. - W. H. Auden
If you would marry suitably marry your equal. - Ovid
It is a great thing to know your vices. - Cicero
(NOTE: Don't worry. No list of vices to follow...hmmmm...no. No. That's a bad idea. I may be nuts but I'm not stupid.)
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Why Blog Spot?
MySpace is for nudity not for thoughts.
Someday, if I'm not careful, I fear that I may wake up and feel compelled to post pictures of myself in a semi-clothed state (I could put in a Paris Hilton joke right here but it would be too easy). This is unnaceptable...to everyone.
Hence, let us move along to blogspot.com. OK?
Thanks.
PS The first posts are lifted from my MySpace. So, to those readers who have already read them. Sorry. Now suck it up!
Someday, if I'm not careful, I fear that I may wake up and feel compelled to post pictures of myself in a semi-clothed state (I could put in a Paris Hilton joke right here but it would be too easy). This is unnaceptable...to everyone.
Hence, let us move along to blogspot.com. OK?
Thanks.
PS The first posts are lifted from my MySpace. So, to those readers who have already read them. Sorry. Now suck it up!
Scott Baio is 45...& A Schmuck.
Originally Posted: Wednesday, July 18, 2007
What do all the Playboy playmates since 1976 have in common besides the obvious? Scott Baio.
In case any of you missed this most intriguing of "celebreality" shows from VH1 let me recap it for you. Scott Baio (Happy Days, Joanie Loves Chachi, Charles In Charge, etc.) is forty-five and not married. He has, apparently, decided that this means that there is something wrong with him. So, what did he do? He hired himself a life coach to figure out his issue and conquer it. Way to be Mr. Baio. The first step is admitting you have a problem.
Now, to his credit, he did hire the only qualified applicant to be his life coach. He passed up the psychic, the "body feng shui" expert, and the hooker….no, seriously. She was a hooker. He picked the clinical psychologist. So far so good.
His first assignment from the life coach is to stop seeing his current girlfriend and to be celibate for the entire eight weeks of the "process". Hmmm….what can one say about that? Well, he didn't seem to have much of a problem with the no girlfriend part of the task but celibacy will be a problem.
Hu?
Oh! Right! He's a pathological philanderer! I forgot! Sorry. Did I not mention he's cheated on every girlfriend he's ever had (except the current one...sure. Right. You bet.)?
Let's do some math! It'll be fun! If he started dating when he was sixteen and he's now forty-five let's assume he's dated, conservatively, one woman a year then that's twenty-nine girlfriends. Now, let's, again being conservative, say he cheated on each one with three different women that's eighty-seven women. The scary part? I'm not including strippers/hookers that have probably come along. Is it any wonder that one of his ex's tells him she got her first AIDs test because of him? The only question on that episode is why is he shocked by that?
Now, it gets complicated after the first assignment so, I'm going to stop explaining the show to you. I think you've gotten the point.
What I really want to know is how much is he paying this life coach because I can solve his problem in ten minutes. Two problems and two steps. That's it. Done!
All he has to do to figure out the first part of his problem is look at a picture of each girlfriend then think about what he tells somebody when they ask him what he's looking for in a woman. The answer? Blonde hair! Blonde hair! (his exclamations not mine) Big tits, no taller than 5'6 and a nice ass. He wants a blonde hottie. That's all. Period. Full stop. Wow. Those are the only qualifications that matter? It doesn't take a psychologist to figure this out! He's been dating the same person since he was sixteen!
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I know that it's not right to assume that these women are all alike. I'm sure they have vast differences. One likes butterfly tattoos and another probably likes unicorns. One wants a tiny puppy to carry around in an expensive carrier and the other wants a kitty. One can count to ten with her shoes on and the others can't. Big woop. Basically they're still the same person.
Jesus! It's like those couples that get married then they get divorced and then they get married again…divorced….married again…divorced…married again…divorced…You get the point. It doesn't work out. Why? Because it's the same person! They haven't changed! You're the same person! You haven't changed! It's not rocket science.
Actually, when you think about it, a lot of people do this. They have a certain type in their head and they can't get around it. For the sake of argument let's say that I have a type. Let's say the type is, oh, I don't know. . . .Blonde! Blonde! No taller than 5'6, a nice ass and a big dick. That's all. I'll only go out with people who meet this criteria. I don't care about anything else. They can believe that Hitler had some good ideas as long as they fit this criteria. As long as they are super fine they can speak of themselves exclusively in the third person.
How long could such a relationship last? Not very long. Why? Because it's only about the physical. Don't get me wrong. Physical attraction is important. It's what gets you in the door. However, after that you better have something in common.
And there you have the real problem. His type is very Midwest/California girl. In fact, all his girlfriends are from the Midwest or California (OK, Pam Anderson is from Canada but small town Canada so same diff). Mr. Baio is a first generation Italian-American (who does research for their readers? I do!) from Brooklyn. He's forty-five and he's never dated anyone even close to his age since Erin Moran from Happy Days. Gee. What could the problem be? They have no common frame of reference. It's like me dating a sixty-five year old evangelical Baptist from North Dakota. Can you picture it? Me neither.
Now, I'm not saying that you have to be the scary couple that is exactly alike but you have to have something in common. And, from the show I saw and the clips from the other shows, he hasn't got a damn thing to talk about with these women, so, when the flush of lust has run it's course what's left? Nothin'. Therefore, he's out the door. The upside? At least he didn't pull a Nick Lachey (sp?) and marry a bimbo just because he wanted to bang her like a drum. No need to pay alimony so far! Good job!
If I was his life coach his first task would be to go to a bookstore. Stand in a section that he likes (literature, sci-fi, mystery, history, religion, etc.) when a girl comes along that he's attracted to and, ideally, picks up a book that he himself has enjoyed strike up a conversation. Picking up broads is not difficult for this man. Why? Who knows? Maybe he has great personal magnetism when you're in his presence. Whatever. Hell, I'm not even nixing fake tits! Just make sure you have something in common. That's all I'm sayin'. Task one down!
Now, for all that I've said, I must admit that Mr. Baio doesn't strike me as a bad person. I actually believe that he wants to figure out what his problem is. Good for him. His friends all seem to be behind him as well. Actually, all his friends but one are behind him and there you have the second problem. That guy, who's name I've forgotten, has been getting laid for years just by hanging out with Scott Baio.
How sad is that? He essentially takes the leftovers and that's ok with him. In fact that's great with him! He flips out when Mr. Baio announces his plan to be celibate and eventually, hopefully, get married. Some friend.
This guy is a friggin' animal. He's a mooch. His goal in life is to be a life of the party guy. The only problem? He's unattractive, a pain in the ass and a real cheap piece of goods.
Examples? Oh, well, if you insist!
In the first episode they run into the brother of Ron Howard. The friend has no interest in him at all until he figures out who he's related to. Then he's all over him! Schmuck. PS? You have to love Ron Howard's brother because he's on to him from the word go. Poor bastard probably gets it all the time. However, that doesn't make it right. To Mr. Baio's credit he recognizes that his friend is a putz in this instance and gets him out of there.
In a later episode he brings a stripper/hooker to his friends house after he is specifically told not to do so. You remember that friend? The one who is trying to be celibate for the first time in twenty-nine years? The one who wants to make a commitment to his girlfriend or, at least, figure out why he can't? Why does he do this? Because he wants his friend to fail. Because if his friend fails he wins. Nice. Very nice. Again, some friend!
Now, to be fair, I don't blame the friend for Mr. Baio's failure in turning down the nice lady's offer, which is implied by the clip I saw, in this instance. He's a grown man. He can say no to a hooker if he wants to. He clearly doesn't want to. However, I blame the friend for putting the stumbling block in his way. It seems whenever they're around each other they just pull one another further down into the pit of yuck. I don't get it.
Task two? Dump the mooch. No more. He's out. Yes, it would be hard but not impossible. Besides, why would you hang out with someone who only brings out the worst in you? Who constantly embarrasses you? Who uses you? Why would you allow yourself to be turned into this kind of an animal? It's ridiculous. He's forty-five. Time to grow up. Be a man.
That's it. The second and final step taken care of. Eight weeks? Fuck that! I got the problem knocked.
Where's my check?!
What do all the Playboy playmates since 1976 have in common besides the obvious? Scott Baio.
In case any of you missed this most intriguing of "celebreality" shows from VH1 let me recap it for you. Scott Baio (Happy Days, Joanie Loves Chachi, Charles In Charge, etc.) is forty-five and not married. He has, apparently, decided that this means that there is something wrong with him. So, what did he do? He hired himself a life coach to figure out his issue and conquer it. Way to be Mr. Baio. The first step is admitting you have a problem.
Now, to his credit, he did hire the only qualified applicant to be his life coach. He passed up the psychic, the "body feng shui" expert, and the hooker….no, seriously. She was a hooker. He picked the clinical psychologist. So far so good.
His first assignment from the life coach is to stop seeing his current girlfriend and to be celibate for the entire eight weeks of the "process". Hmmm….what can one say about that? Well, he didn't seem to have much of a problem with the no girlfriend part of the task but celibacy will be a problem.
Hu?
Oh! Right! He's a pathological philanderer! I forgot! Sorry. Did I not mention he's cheated on every girlfriend he's ever had (except the current one...sure. Right. You bet.)?
Let's do some math! It'll be fun! If he started dating when he was sixteen and he's now forty-five let's assume he's dated, conservatively, one woman a year then that's twenty-nine girlfriends. Now, let's, again being conservative, say he cheated on each one with three different women that's eighty-seven women. The scary part? I'm not including strippers/hookers that have probably come along. Is it any wonder that one of his ex's tells him she got her first AIDs test because of him? The only question on that episode is why is he shocked by that?
Now, it gets complicated after the first assignment so, I'm going to stop explaining the show to you. I think you've gotten the point.
What I really want to know is how much is he paying this life coach because I can solve his problem in ten minutes. Two problems and two steps. That's it. Done!
All he has to do to figure out the first part of his problem is look at a picture of each girlfriend then think about what he tells somebody when they ask him what he's looking for in a woman. The answer? Blonde hair! Blonde hair! (his exclamations not mine) Big tits, no taller than 5'6 and a nice ass. He wants a blonde hottie. That's all. Period. Full stop. Wow. Those are the only qualifications that matter? It doesn't take a psychologist to figure this out! He's been dating the same person since he was sixteen!
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I know that it's not right to assume that these women are all alike. I'm sure they have vast differences. One likes butterfly tattoos and another probably likes unicorns. One wants a tiny puppy to carry around in an expensive carrier and the other wants a kitty. One can count to ten with her shoes on and the others can't. Big woop. Basically they're still the same person.
Jesus! It's like those couples that get married then they get divorced and then they get married again…divorced….married again…divorced…married again…divorced…You get the point. It doesn't work out. Why? Because it's the same person! They haven't changed! You're the same person! You haven't changed! It's not rocket science.
Actually, when you think about it, a lot of people do this. They have a certain type in their head and they can't get around it. For the sake of argument let's say that I have a type. Let's say the type is, oh, I don't know. . . .Blonde! Blonde! No taller than 5'6, a nice ass and a big dick. That's all. I'll only go out with people who meet this criteria. I don't care about anything else. They can believe that Hitler had some good ideas as long as they fit this criteria. As long as they are super fine they can speak of themselves exclusively in the third person.
How long could such a relationship last? Not very long. Why? Because it's only about the physical. Don't get me wrong. Physical attraction is important. It's what gets you in the door. However, after that you better have something in common.
And there you have the real problem. His type is very Midwest/California girl. In fact, all his girlfriends are from the Midwest or California (OK, Pam Anderson is from Canada but small town Canada so same diff). Mr. Baio is a first generation Italian-American (who does research for their readers? I do!) from Brooklyn. He's forty-five and he's never dated anyone even close to his age since Erin Moran from Happy Days. Gee. What could the problem be? They have no common frame of reference. It's like me dating a sixty-five year old evangelical Baptist from North Dakota. Can you picture it? Me neither.
Now, I'm not saying that you have to be the scary couple that is exactly alike but you have to have something in common. And, from the show I saw and the clips from the other shows, he hasn't got a damn thing to talk about with these women, so, when the flush of lust has run it's course what's left? Nothin'. Therefore, he's out the door. The upside? At least he didn't pull a Nick Lachey (sp?) and marry a bimbo just because he wanted to bang her like a drum. No need to pay alimony so far! Good job!
If I was his life coach his first task would be to go to a bookstore. Stand in a section that he likes (literature, sci-fi, mystery, history, religion, etc.) when a girl comes along that he's attracted to and, ideally, picks up a book that he himself has enjoyed strike up a conversation. Picking up broads is not difficult for this man. Why? Who knows? Maybe he has great personal magnetism when you're in his presence. Whatever. Hell, I'm not even nixing fake tits! Just make sure you have something in common. That's all I'm sayin'. Task one down!
Now, for all that I've said, I must admit that Mr. Baio doesn't strike me as a bad person. I actually believe that he wants to figure out what his problem is. Good for him. His friends all seem to be behind him as well. Actually, all his friends but one are behind him and there you have the second problem. That guy, who's name I've forgotten, has been getting laid for years just by hanging out with Scott Baio.
How sad is that? He essentially takes the leftovers and that's ok with him. In fact that's great with him! He flips out when Mr. Baio announces his plan to be celibate and eventually, hopefully, get married. Some friend.
This guy is a friggin' animal. He's a mooch. His goal in life is to be a life of the party guy. The only problem? He's unattractive, a pain in the ass and a real cheap piece of goods.
Examples? Oh, well, if you insist!
In the first episode they run into the brother of Ron Howard. The friend has no interest in him at all until he figures out who he's related to. Then he's all over him! Schmuck. PS? You have to love Ron Howard's brother because he's on to him from the word go. Poor bastard probably gets it all the time. However, that doesn't make it right. To Mr. Baio's credit he recognizes that his friend is a putz in this instance and gets him out of there.
In a later episode he brings a stripper/hooker to his friends house after he is specifically told not to do so. You remember that friend? The one who is trying to be celibate for the first time in twenty-nine years? The one who wants to make a commitment to his girlfriend or, at least, figure out why he can't? Why does he do this? Because he wants his friend to fail. Because if his friend fails he wins. Nice. Very nice. Again, some friend!
Now, to be fair, I don't blame the friend for Mr. Baio's failure in turning down the nice lady's offer, which is implied by the clip I saw, in this instance. He's a grown man. He can say no to a hooker if he wants to. He clearly doesn't want to. However, I blame the friend for putting the stumbling block in his way. It seems whenever they're around each other they just pull one another further down into the pit of yuck. I don't get it.
Task two? Dump the mooch. No more. He's out. Yes, it would be hard but not impossible. Besides, why would you hang out with someone who only brings out the worst in you? Who constantly embarrasses you? Who uses you? Why would you allow yourself to be turned into this kind of an animal? It's ridiculous. He's forty-five. Time to grow up. Be a man.
That's it. The second and final step taken care of. Eight weeks? Fuck that! I got the problem knocked.
Where's my check?!
Jesus Wept!
Originally Posted: Thursday, January 18, 2007
Bless : tr.v. blessed or blest, bless-ing, bless-es
1. To make holy by religious rite; sanctify.
2. To make the sign of the cross over so as to sanctify.
3. To invoke a divine favor upon.
4. To honor as holy; glorify
"It's a blessing!"
Is there any more annoying phrase in the English language? Any idiom more likely to send a sane person screaming dementedly from the room? Any more pompous, inane or, in fact, egocentric expression ever spawned? I think not.
Let us be clear, I am not an atheist. I believe in G-d. In fact, I believe that there is no G-d but G-d and His ways are wondrous and mythic. This does not, however, mean that I believe that every single thing that goes my way is a miracle. Just as I don't believe that everything that goes wrong is His fault. If I stub my toe it's not G-ds fault. I'm just a klutz.
On the flip side, I know a man who believes that every little thing that happens to him is a "blessing". Every. Little. Thing. How do I know this? Because he says it all day long. Repeatedly. It drives me around the fucking twist.
Examples:
"I hate Pepsi. They have Coke products? That's a blessing!"
"I found a parking space, what a blessing."
"I was able to find a sandwich place I enjoy. It's a blessing."
I've come to the conclusion that either he doesn't know what the word means or he believes that G-d is there just to act as his personal assistant. Is that a particularly pious attitude? Well, who knows? A lot of people share it so maybe it is. After all, twenty million Frenchmen can't be wrong. . . . Oh. Wait. Sure they can.
Bless : tr.v. blessed or blest, bless-ing, bless-es
1. To make holy by religious rite; sanctify.
2. To make the sign of the cross over so as to sanctify.
3. To invoke a divine favor upon.
4. To honor as holy; glorify
"It's a blessing!"
Is there any more annoying phrase in the English language? Any idiom more likely to send a sane person screaming dementedly from the room? Any more pompous, inane or, in fact, egocentric expression ever spawned? I think not.
Let us be clear, I am not an atheist. I believe in G-d. In fact, I believe that there is no G-d but G-d and His ways are wondrous and mythic. This does not, however, mean that I believe that every single thing that goes my way is a miracle. Just as I don't believe that everything that goes wrong is His fault. If I stub my toe it's not G-ds fault. I'm just a klutz.
On the flip side, I know a man who believes that every little thing that happens to him is a "blessing". Every. Little. Thing. How do I know this? Because he says it all day long. Repeatedly. It drives me around the fucking twist.
Examples:
"I hate Pepsi. They have Coke products? That's a blessing!"
"I found a parking space, what a blessing."
"I was able to find a sandwich place I enjoy. It's a blessing."
I've come to the conclusion that either he doesn't know what the word means or he believes that G-d is there just to act as his personal assistant. Is that a particularly pious attitude? Well, who knows? A lot of people share it so maybe it is. After all, twenty million Frenchmen can't be wrong. . . . Oh. Wait. Sure they can.
Don't You Look At Me In That Tone Of Voice!
Originally Posted: Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Once upon a time (this expression is, of course, used to let you know that nobody can remember exactly when) the universe was void and empty. However, that was quite a long time ago and not really relevant to anyone. So, let us begin with a time that was relevant and can be remembered exactly, well, almost. Specifically, last Tuesday around three o'clock.
At this time the world was very crowded indeed and, therefore, there was no parking to be had. Not for love or, more importantly, money. This is one of the higher powers jokes. When there are no cars there is plenty of parking . . . Whole plains and continents. (S)He finds this most amusing although it does nothing for the rest of us.
But who are we to complain? Surely we too would grow bored with eternity. After all, you can't speak to too many people. For one thing too many prophets spoil the soup. . . or something like that. . . and, for another, no god wants to be thought easy.
Let's face it. The populace doesn't want a Lord that will drop around for a casual chat over tea and cookies. No. Nobody is willing to have the odd bitch through the latest People magazine with G-d. So, (S)He has Her/His little jokes and, really, if (S)He can forgive us our little peccadilloes, well, can't we forgive Him/Her? Surely we can.
Now that that's settled let's get back to last Tuesday round three. Oh, hell! Now I've forgotten what happened. Well, can't have been that interesting then, can it?
Once upon a time (this expression is, of course, used to let you know that nobody can remember exactly when) the universe was void and empty. However, that was quite a long time ago and not really relevant to anyone. So, let us begin with a time that was relevant and can be remembered exactly, well, almost. Specifically, last Tuesday around three o'clock.
At this time the world was very crowded indeed and, therefore, there was no parking to be had. Not for love or, more importantly, money. This is one of the higher powers jokes. When there are no cars there is plenty of parking . . . Whole plains and continents. (S)He finds this most amusing although it does nothing for the rest of us.
But who are we to complain? Surely we too would grow bored with eternity. After all, you can't speak to too many people. For one thing too many prophets spoil the soup. . . or something like that. . . and, for another, no god wants to be thought easy.
Let's face it. The populace doesn't want a Lord that will drop around for a casual chat over tea and cookies. No. Nobody is willing to have the odd bitch through the latest People magazine with G-d. So, (S)He has Her/His little jokes and, really, if (S)He can forgive us our little peccadilloes, well, can't we forgive Him/Her? Surely we can.
Now that that's settled let's get back to last Tuesday round three. Oh, hell! Now I've forgotten what happened. Well, can't have been that interesting then, can it?
Best Day Ever!
Originally Posted: Wednesday, November 29, 2006
I was driving to work today and I saw the best thing ever.
The car in front of me was covered in archery bumper stickers. Covered. My favorite? "Archers Hit The Bulls Eye". Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge. Ribald (for her pleasure)!
I pulled up to pass the car. I looked over to make sure I had room to pass. . . And . . . Wait for it . . . .
The driver had an eye patch. It made my fuckin' day.
I'm a misanthrope. Go ahead. Act surprised.
I was driving to work today and I saw the best thing ever.
The car in front of me was covered in archery bumper stickers. Covered. My favorite? "Archers Hit The Bulls Eye". Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge. Ribald (for her pleasure)!
I pulled up to pass the car. I looked over to make sure I had room to pass. . . And . . . Wait for it . . . .
The driver had an eye patch. It made my fuckin' day.
I'm a misanthrope. Go ahead. Act surprised.
Run Don't Walk To Buy This Book....Now!
Originally Posted: Monday, October 16, 2006
Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture
Ariel Levy
$14.00 US
"Meet the female Chauvinist Pig - the new brand of 'empowered woman' who embraces 'raunch culture' wherever she finds it. In her groundbreaking book, New York magazine writer Ariel Levy argues that, if male chauvinist pigs of years past thought of women as pieces of meat, Female Chauvinist Pigs of today are doing them one better, making sex objects of other women - and of themselves. Irresistibly witty and wickedly intelligent, Female Chauvinist Pigs makes the case that the rise of raunch does not represent how far women have come; it only proves how far they have to go."
Or, to sum up, why stripping isn't a feminist statement & Paris Hilton is the devil.
You Say Do What Now?
Originally Posted: Wednesday, October 04, 2006
According to something I read in the paper today the host of Survivor had "no idea that Asian meant people from different countries like Japan, China and Korea" before the new Survivor: Race Wars started. He was also shocked to find out that Asians don't have a strong loyalty to other Asians. Beg pardon?
Wait. Hold on. I have to clarify. Is this man mentally retarded? Seriously. I need to know because it's not nice to make fun of the handicapp - - uh, handiCAPABLE. Can I get a judges ruling?
No? Not retarded? Not officially? Fine. Let's move on.
What the fuck is wrong with this man? He, apparently, was under the impression that Asia was one large country. This almost makes my brain melt out of my ear. Are all Caucasians from the Caucasus? Are all Chicanos from Chile?
Has he never heard of the Sino-Japanese wars? China vs. Japan? There were two of them? Missed those? How about the annexation of Korea by Japan in 1910? No? They made all the papers! I swear. I wouldn't make that up. It's called history and there are many reference materials available. We call them "books".
The thing that really kills me is that he must believe that other people don't know this. If not he would know that saying such a thing in public would make him look like a . . . are we sure he's not retarded?
According to something I read in the paper today the host of Survivor had "no idea that Asian meant people from different countries like Japan, China and Korea" before the new Survivor: Race Wars started. He was also shocked to find out that Asians don't have a strong loyalty to other Asians. Beg pardon?
Wait. Hold on. I have to clarify. Is this man mentally retarded? Seriously. I need to know because it's not nice to make fun of the handicapp - - uh, handiCAPABLE. Can I get a judges ruling?
No? Not retarded? Not officially? Fine. Let's move on.
What the fuck is wrong with this man? He, apparently, was under the impression that Asia was one large country. This almost makes my brain melt out of my ear. Are all Caucasians from the Caucasus? Are all Chicanos from Chile?
Has he never heard of the Sino-Japanese wars? China vs. Japan? There were two of them? Missed those? How about the annexation of Korea by Japan in 1910? No? They made all the papers! I swear. I wouldn't make that up. It's called history and there are many reference materials available. We call them "books".
The thing that really kills me is that he must believe that other people don't know this. If not he would know that saying such a thing in public would make him look like a . . . are we sure he's not retarded?
Cervantes Who?
Originally Posted:Friday, September 08, 2006
I was taking information from a customer the other day. It went a little something like this . . . .
Customer: My last name is Cervantes. Do you need me to spell that?
Me: No. It's like the author, right?
Customer: Who?
Me: The author. Cervantes.
Customer: Um . . . I guess?
Then I cried.
Later that night I dreamed that I was at work. Andy Garcia was sitting at the desk next to me. He was reading Federico Garcia Lorca aloud. My supervisor asked him to translate. He recited hickory dickory dock. I pointed out to Mr. Garcia that this was wrong. He pointed out that nobody would notice.
Well spotted, imaginary actor. Well spotted
I was taking information from a customer the other day. It went a little something like this . . . .
Customer: My last name is Cervantes. Do you need me to spell that?
Me: No. It's like the author, right?
Customer: Who?
Me: The author. Cervantes.
Customer: Um . . . I guess?
Then I cried.
Later that night I dreamed that I was at work. Andy Garcia was sitting at the desk next to me. He was reading Federico Garcia Lorca aloud. My supervisor asked him to translate. He recited hickory dickory dock. I pointed out to Mr. Garcia that this was wrong. He pointed out that nobody would notice.
Well spotted, imaginary actor. Well spotted
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