Greatest Ad Campaign That Will Never Be

So Syd and I just came up with this concept for Life cereal commercials. Have some guy in a Giant cereal piece costume, and he'd be losing at checkers and flip the board, or make snide comments about a woman's outfit, or drink all the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, and then they'd flash the slogan: Life's a bitch.
It'd be great! They could run them during Adult Swim. They would sell lots of cereal to stoners.


Worth the wait?

So things have been a bit busy, with marrying and moving and things of this nature, which is not to say I would have blogged had this not been the case. Anyway, here's a direct quotation from S.:
"Who is a douchebag? Is it this potato? It just might be!"


Live Blogging!

Of the Oregon game! That took place last night! For some reason it wasn't broadcast until midnight, so I dvr'd it, managed to avoid hearing the outcome, and am watching it Sunday morning. It's 21-10, 13 minutes to go in the 2nd, and the color commentary guy might just be bad enough at his job to make this worthwhile.

Second Quarter
13:15 "We'll see right here if Oregon bounces back, they've got a little adversity coming in their face." Now that's a sports metaphor!

9:57 "Yes it was catchable; when that ball hits the receiver's hands, like i say over and over again you have to catch that football. Missed opportunity, you have to make those plays, and it's all about making plays, and that's what this Cardinal team has to do against this Oregon football team is make plays."
All the hallmarks of a c-team commentator: thinks he came up with the most common cliches, says adversity every third word, repeatedly says "football game," repeatedly says everything else.

7:33 Am I ripping on this guy to distract from the score going from 21-3 to 21-17? Yes. (In a parallel universe, Sydney has gotten out of bed before noon, and is doing the world's first metaliveblog, and is making fun of my Donald Rumsfeld-style rhetorical question.)

6:52 Due to penalties, Stanford is now kicking off for the fourth time--wait, no, as they were about to kick it, they called a time out. I don't remember when I last saw actual play.

5:30 "Well it's amazing to watch Kimble's feet, the quick feet, the feet were moving just like car pistons in a car, and watch here the quick feet lift the legs, driving driving driving." It's close to poetry.

4:09 Some Stanford dude with a luxurious blond mullet just put them ahead 24-21. Anthony the color commentator proclaimed, as he has with every Stanford score, that it's a ballgame now.

:48 21-31. Not even making fun of an idiot can ease the pain. Ooh, Stewart ran the kick back about 70 yards!

:14 The Ducks continue to not score. Syd spilled some cereal on the floor, and the cat just ate it. Honey Bunches of Oats. Three flakes, one bunch.

Third Quarter
11:17 They just came back from commercial with the ball in midair. Touchdown to Dickson! I'll assume Dixon threw it! 31-31.

10:28 Here's the trivia question: In a single season, what is the greatest number of true freshmen played by Coach Bellotti? That has to be the shittiest trivia question ever. Predictions for next week's question: What did Jonathan Stewart eat for breakfast? What are Jaison Williams' secret hopes and dreams? What is the greatest number of players who were molested by their priest and never told anybody who were played by Coach Bellotti in a single season?

9:08 Anthony just said Stewart has "thunder thighs."

7:20 Trivia answer: Nine, this year. Thank Science for the closure. Oh, and the Ducks got a TD. 38-31. Huh, nine. Wow!

6:48 Just so you know, Tony Ton Ton says something really stupid every time he opens his mouth, but this post is already longer than the entirety of my blog, so I'm being judicious.

6:13 This year people have been losing helmets like crazy. I assume they've been redesigned to break away more easily for safety reasons, but it seems to me like sooner or later someone'll lose their hat and then get hit in the head and die.

5:37 Dickson is monstrous. Sounds of the game usually sounds like some pads hitting each other. The cameraman is easily fooled. Oregon is up 45-31. Play-by-play man is not a mathlete.

Fourth Quarter
13:48 "Balls out...balls out." Syd noticed this last week, that when they say "ball's out" it sounds like 'balls out.' It is amusing to me.

8:03 Chung just made a great interception. Anthony: "Big time players make big time plays." Holy fawk, he could so easily be replaced by a robot with a thing for big thighs.

4:25 Stanford fails on 4th down, Oregon takes over, and now Kevin Trudeau's: The Weight-Loss Cure "They" Don't Want You To Know About takes over, with 2:09 remaining on his infomercial clock. The one fucking time I remember to set the DVR to tape an extra hour to catch the end of the game, and the broadcast cuts off. Oh well; I assume we won. Go Ducks! I am cautiously trepidatious about Cal next week!


Two Things

First off, this is the best invention since Katie's thesis topic. Go buy some, burn yourself, and use it. You won't regret it.*
Second, what would you do with no morals and someone else's credit card? Your answer can't possibly be as good as this woman's. Unless your answer is, "Let's go crazy, Broadway-style!"

*˙ʇı ʇǝɹƃǝɹ ʇɥƃıɯ noʎ


Twenty-first Century Neologist

Behold, I have coined a new phrase. It is "damn you in the butt." Share and enjoy! (This post is mostly just to get that disgusting p-trap photo off the top of the page. -ed.)
Oops! Almost forgot the unicorn chaser.


Plumbing is dumb

That's right, plumbing industry, I'm calling you out. Today I took the p-trap apart to fish out part of the sink stopper mechanism after someone who shall remain unnamed disassembled it for reasons forgotten. So I go buy some channel-lock pliers (thanks, Winks guy, for suggesting a sensible alternative to the massive pipe wrench I had my eye on!) and turn one of the nuts a bit, and the whole pipe pulls out of the wall, very easily. Turns out I didn't need the pliers, or any tools, because the pipes don't have flanges on the end, so the nuts just turn to constrict washers to grip said pipes. At either end! At the wall, and where it meets the downpipe from the sink, it's held in place with rubber friction. And I swear, the pipe going into the wall actually goes in, like, 1/32nd of an inch.This is seriously how it's supposed to be? Answer, according to Syd's plumber uncle whom I called: yes. This is lazy and dumb. It's the 21st century, people. We should have drainpipes that can't just be pulled out of the wall, and we shouldn't need a shoehorn to get a shoe onto our foot. (I guess that's another rant, but I don't really feel like going through the whole thing, so y'know, blah blah space-age fabrics, fasteners, miracle of elastic, should be able to put on shoe without use of contraption, you get the idea.)


Syd made a funny

OK, so the New Yorker has this caption contest thing they've been doing for a year or two now, where they supply a cartoon with no caption, and readers submit their own ideas, and the handful that aren't "My wife is a slut" are voted on by us, the readers.
Here is this week's offering; Syd's caption for it, which we submitted, is
"I wish my insurance would cover a hospital not staffed by the insane."
I thought this was really funny, and then couldn't stop laughing 'cause I was trying to eat a hotdog, and every time I tried to get serious so I could eat I started laughing again, and eventually I laughed while swallowing and launched ketchup, mustard, and hot sauce up the back of my nose, and it really was most unpleasant. Then Syd showed it to her mom, who was unamused. So what do you think, dear friends? About her caption, that is, not about eating a hotdog with ketchup, mustard and hot sauce on it; I know, now, that that was wrong.


We have a new greatest Crazy Lady

Natasha Lyonne, I will always love your crazy dog threat. But my new Crazy Lady is a hero and role model. Next time someone sings that crap around me, it is on as if it were Donkey Kong.



Hi everyone, just a quick note to let everyone know that I'm taking a break from my busy blogging schedule to read HPVII.


Lose weight now ask me how!!!

I can now say from experience that I am opposed to food poisoning. Although I do grudgingly admire my body's ability to identify and expel an objectionable clam, I had put a lot of effort into avoiding a reversal, as they will say many a time tomorrow, for roughly seventeen years. As it turns out, vomiting is exactly as unpleasant as I remembered it being. So I guess that's it for me and clams, and I can't say I mind too much. I mean, take away garlic or lemon or whatever sundry herbs you've tarted them up with, and they're like eating ocean-flavored rubber.
Kids' Korner Kwestion! Is the ocean delicious?*

*snoıɔı1ǝp ʇou sı uɐǝɔo ǝɥʇ



Here is a picture for all of you unfortunates who aren't in Portland right now.

And here's a picture of our cat's butt.


Eric sent me this link; I think he's trying to keep his blog classy, a compunction I clearly lack. Anyway, it's spectacular, but not really safe for work, at least if your boss hates America.



I hate Windows. So very much. I know I'm hardly alone in this, and it really seems like the most pointless observation one could possibly make on the intertubes ever, in terms of originality, but nevertheless, the fact remains that somehow Microsoft dominates the market in spite of their continued efforts to thwart their own customers. I hate them hate them so much. Endless anti-piracy bullshit, with the end result that pirates can still pirate, and idiots like me who somehow own more copies of Windows than computers can't get any of them to work, but in the process of failing to install XP still manages to make my laptop think its hard drive is borken. I've switched over to Ubuntu Linux and am quite happy, but Win is still a necessity once in a while, and it is seriously such a huge pile of crap.
Oh, also, the new Queens of the Stone Age album is quite good. Interesting heavy Beatles influence, and all in all a fine job of rocking without screaming.


Passive-aggressive filler post

I know it's been a month--two, in fact--since my last post, but I have two jobs, an apartment hunt, end-of-school-year inertia, my wedding to arrange, my wife to murder, and Guilder to frame for it. I'm swamped! To better keep track of my sporadic postings, I recommend this.


Free lunch

Fuck you, google ads. Fuck you so much. This is so not worth the small quantity of pennies in ad revenue I might one day reap.

Let's all go to the lobby

Observation: $15 will purchase admission for no more than one person at Regal Theaters. So what fun, exactly, are they suggesting the card's recipient have in the dark?


A purpose

The four people who read this blog out of an unnecessary but appreciated sense of obligation may have noticed it languishing in its {I'm sorry, I must interrupt to point out that Blogger, the website I'm writing this post on, or in, or whatever, has a spellchecker, and it has underlined 'blog'. In the course of writing this aside, it has also marked 'blogger' and 'spellchecker'. This is why I hate spell-checkers. There, I hyphenated. Happy, fucker?} infancy. I realize now that this is because it lacks a theme, a drive, a raison d'etre, if you will. This struck me as I read the headline of this story, Turkey to Block "Insulting" Websites. And in a flash, I knew my purpose: to be banned by Turkey. So here goes.
Turkey stole all your change for a laundry run.
The Hagia Sophia is a poor man's Angkor Wat.
Turkey only wants to join the EU so they can fuck Belgium's sister.
Turkey's prog-rock album was derivative and soulless.
I was in Europe once, and there was this bad smell, and I was like Dude, what smells? And some guy was like, Oh, that's Turkey.
Turkish Delight is to candy as poop is to candy.

Oh, I just read some of that article and it turns out they're specifically looking for assaults on "Turkishness" and Mustafa Kemal Ataturk. So, um, did you know Ataturk's name anagrams to 'Big douchebag'? Actually, it doesn't. It doesn't seem to anagram to anything that doesn't involve an auk, because Ataturk was a big douchebag with too many 'a's and 'u's in his name.
Your move, bitches.


Feeding the beast

I gots to start posting again, so here we go, even if it's the most popular thing on yootoob right now:

Who knew those lyrics had so much, or any, meaning?
Please to forgive my lame post. Illness is my excuse.