I love stupid people because they let me yell wildly. First, I’m addicted to Newlyweds. I can’t NOT watch. Jessica Simpson is so great. I thought she must be acting, but there’s no way. Even if I had been attracted to her before, she’s too stupid to keep a reasonable man’s interest. That doesn’t stop me from watching because that show is crack for superior people like me.
In between pitching changes in tonight’s Red Sox-Yankees game, I watched Wheel of Fortune. The woman who was in control of The Wheel kept guessing on the puzzle, getting each letter correct. She had $5,000 and one covered letter. She didn’t know what that letter was so she spun again and landed on the jackpot. That was $8,950 if she could solve it after guessing the last letter.
Allow me to repeat that she only had to guess the last letter. Everything else was uncovered. With heavy uncertainty, she asked for a “G”. There was no “G”.
The answer as shown was “All work and no play-do_”. Granted, the answer is stupid, but what the hell is “All work and no play-doG”? That’s ignorant.
Alias is back for season 3 at 9pm tonight on ABC. If you’ve never seen Alias, I’m requiring you to watch it tonight. If you’ve seen Alias and don’t like it, you’re no longer allowed to read this site. Please leave now.
Tonight’s episode picks up where last season’s cliffhanger ended. Obviously, since it was a cliffhanger… When we last saw Sydney, she was in a CIA safe house in Hong Kong. Vaughn had come to retrieve her, after thinking that she’d been dead for two years. For some reason, he managed to get himself married in her two year absence. What a slut he is. I have no clue how Sydney’s disappearance can be explained, but I’ve learned to trust J.J. Abrahms. He’s a master storyteller with Alias, so I can’t wait to see what comes out of his mind.
You have your homework assignment. Don’t miss it.
P.S. If you haven’t watched it, click over to Amazon.com and buy Season 1 on DVD to experience the greatest television show ever.
I know my readership is wondering where I’ve been. I’m here to tell you there is an explanation. When I haven’t been working 20 hour days, I’ve experienced the following fun, stupid, and crazy adventures:
fun –> sleeping
stupid –> watching Virginia Tech football while sitting in Hurricane Isabel
crazy –> going to the Miss America Pageant
For photographic proof, here’s a view from Section 215, Row S, Seat 7 (yes, that’s the last row):
If you haven’t seen Miss California’s performance of “At This Moment”, find it and watch it immediately. You will not believe it. I sat in the lobby of Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City, listening to Miss California sing this song live. It’s truly stunning, in the same way that listening to two cats fighting is joyful.
That’s the story of where I’ve been. Don’t abandon me, my dear, faithful readers. I will be back soon. I have lots of fun experiences coming soon.
According to this article, Hurricane Isabel is causing some issues for the DC area public transit system. Just like a 4 centimeter snowstorm on a Saturday, it’s time for panic. WMATA will likely shut down the subway and bus service for Thursday in the DC metro area. Of particular interest is this passage:
“Initially the transit agency planned to continue underground service, but Farbstein said officials decided it would be easier to explain a systemwide shutdown, rather than a partial shutdown.”
The men and women who RUN THE FRIGGIN’ FREE WORLD live here. If they can’t figure out why only outside service is shutdown or whether or not their subway station is outside, we’re all fucked. It’s wind and water, not armageddon, so relax and go to work tomorrow. Keep America moving.
And you have enough, so leave the bread, milk, and toilet paper on the store shelves, you dumbasses.
The 12-year-old girl I wrote about yesterday settled her case. This is a complete travesty. Her family and her lawyers had a chance to stand up to RIAA and make a statement. Instead, they succumbed to the scare tactics and bullying of RIAA. This is made worse because the obvious question is how RIAA managed to get the girls name to use for the subpoena. She’s 12, so I doubt her name is on the account.
The worst part of the settlement is this quote, which I’m sure she was forced to say: “I am sorry for what I have done. I love music and don’t want to hurt the artists I love.” Since the statement was released by RIAA, we don’t need to wonder who wrote it. Especially this: “We understand now that file-sharing the music was illegal.”
Insert your own pithy anti-RIAA message here.
I have two interesting facts today. Both are legal issues that I find interesting.
The Recording Industry Association of America is suing people for downloading music. They’re monkey fuckers for doing this. You know that. The problem is that they refuse to acknowledge technological progress. They should realize that technology will always win out. Rather than being creative, they’re attempting to scare Americans into paying $18 for 1 hit song and 9 odes to bad writing.
In their zeal to do this, they’re issuing subpoenas to people who download and/or offer for download large quantities of music. Not surprisingly, they’ve walked into a public relations nightmare. They’re suing a 12-year-old girl for downloading songs such as “If You’re Happy and You Know It”. Ignoring the legal issues, this is not a good idea. Americans already hate the RIAA, but I think they’ll pursue this. It’s possible to chant “I’m right, I’m right, I’m right” at the top of your lungs, but being practical is smart. Too bad they’re stupid.
In another entertaining development, the results of Googling your own name can produce interesting results. I did this at the suggestion of a friend. My search returned a death row inmate. I’m fascinated by his website; he even has an e-mail address with the domain name @inmate.com. If you choose to do this with your name, who knows what might turn up.
To my namesake, if you’re reading this, I’m totally on your side, dude. Don’t let The Man keep you down.
How great are Oreo cookies? You eat an Oreo cookie because they taste so good. There’s nothing like them. Nabisco has a great scam going. They know the secret formula of sugar, flour, and chemicals that makes it so good. And they put it into the “Oreo shape” to add the joy of twisting the cookie. Every cookie is a new adventure.
But here’s the secret… Keebler has nothing on Nabisco because anyone can make chocolate chip cookies at home. You can even throw in M&M’s, improving on the elves’ weak chocolate candy Rainbow cookies. Let me ask you this… When was the last time Johnny invited you over to his house by telling you “My mom just made some Oreos. Wanna come over?”
The creator of the Oreo is a genius.
I was browsing eBay this afternoon and found an item titled Clay Aiken Surprise Package!!!!!. (Yes, I was searching for Clay Aiken stuff. Sue me.)
My point is this, as of this writing, the bid is $41. For a SURPRISE! How can there be so many morons willing to bid on a surprise? If you don’t like the surprise, you have no complaint because anything you get is a surprise.
The only surprise you’re going to get is getting your money stolen.
UPDATE: The winning bid was $46. In the profound words of a radio commercial I heard tonight, you could get a “finding out your girlfriend has an adam’s apple” surprise. Think about that for a moment.
Recently, I’ve been working crazy hours. I’m new to the long hours since I’m new to the project. My co-worker has been here longer, having worked the previous 25 days leading into the Labor Day weekend. We’ve started another that will be 25 days.
Last week, we had a wonderful conversation about whether or not it would be possible to parachute the conference room table out the window, down 11 floors, and have it stay in one piece so that we could eat dinner on it. Our conclusion: it’s possible, but if we’re going to the trouble, we might as well make it remote controlled so we can put the table where we want it.
We followed that up last night with the decision, not yet implemented, to throw gummy bears off the roof of the building to see what would happen to them.
Where’s my pillow?
Tonight, as I waited for the Orange Line train to arrive, a train arrived with its lights off and its sign reading “No Passengers”. After it pulled up to the platform, the train operator said the following over the speaker: “This train is out of service. Please do not attempt to board the train.”
There are two fundamental assumptions with this statement. The first is that I’m stupid. I see the train has no lights, and I can read the sign that states “No Passengers”. Since I’m willing to concede that the Metro has blind riders and illiterate riders, I let this one slide.
The next assumption is that I will attempt to board the train. Miss Train Conductor, you never opened the doors. How am I supposed to board this train? I am not going to cling furiously to the side or ride on top of the roof. I saw Speed, so I know what happens when somebody rides on top of the subway train.
In my 30+ years of life, I’ve also learned that I can’t teleport. It’s sad, I know, but it’s a fact. My brain, as tired as it may be from work-induced apathy, does not suspect that I can teleport onto the train. It’s smart like that, applying lessons learned over the years.
Thus, I correctly assume that I will not be boarding this train. But thank you for helping the blind passengers.