Being sick sucks, you guys. I really don't recommend it. To anyone. But don't worry, everyone (read: Mom). I'm on the upswing.
You know what doesn't suck? Covering a famous Enya song. Why has no one thought of this before? It's brilliant.
9.21.2006
9.07.2006
Go shorty, it's your bih-day
Last week I was walking by one of Chicago's many poster walls* when I saw one that stopped me in my tracks.
Apparently, Beyonce dropped a new album on Tuesday. Please understand if this does not register as huge news in my world**.
The name of this album - "B'Day." From what I understand, the album was released on or near her birthday and so this is the intended meaning of the title.
But let's take just a second to examine what the title really reminds you of***. Especially when you say it out loud and really observe the apostrophe.
B'Day.
Bih-day.
Bidet.
Ladies and gentlemen, we present Beyonce's brand new album - it'll shoot water up your butt.
*Literally, walls or sides of buildings (aka walls) covered in promotional posters for movies, music and the newest energy drink guaranteed to make your heart explode.
**What IS huge news - Suri, the Asian toupeed baby.
***Okay, maybe it's only me. But I find it hilarious, which is good enough for me.
Apparently, Beyonce dropped a new album on Tuesday. Please understand if this does not register as huge news in my world**.
The name of this album - "B'Day." From what I understand, the album was released on or near her birthday and so this is the intended meaning of the title.
But let's take just a second to examine what the title really reminds you of***. Especially when you say it out loud and really observe the apostrophe.
B'Day.
Bih-day.
Bidet.
Ladies and gentlemen, we present Beyonce's brand new album - it'll shoot water up your butt.
*Literally, walls or sides of buildings (aka walls) covered in promotional posters for movies, music and the newest energy drink guaranteed to make your heart explode.
**What IS huge news - Suri, the Asian toupeed baby.
***Okay, maybe it's only me. But I find it hilarious, which is good enough for me.
9.05.2006
A disturbing revelation
Today I enjoyed lunch at P.F. Chang's with some co-workers.
I plan on having dinnner tonight at The Cheesecake Factory with my girlfriend.
In other news, I have apparently moved to the suburbs.
I plan on having dinnner tonight at The Cheesecake Factory with my girlfriend.
In other news, I have apparently moved to the suburbs.
8.28.2006
Knick knack paddy stack
People, I enjoyed one of the greatest lunch breaks of my life last week. I was playing the ESPN Game in my lunchroom and just happened on something that completely toppled paintball as the most ridiculous thing to be televised on a sports network.
Sport Stacking.
The 2006 World Sport Stacking Championships, to be precise.
Do not let the name deceive you. These kids are clearly stacking cups. However, in 2004, the World Sport Stacking Association (WSSA - I swear I'm not making that up), changed the name of the activity from cup stacking to sport stacking in order to give it "immediate identification as a competitive sport."
This is ridiculous, but watching televised sport stacking clearly IS NOT. It is hypnotic and amazing. I learned so much about 3-6-3, 6-6, 1-10-1 cycles, relays, doubles competitions and everything else this amazing competitive activity* has to offer.
But just like anything the world has ever invented, the Germans have found a way to be better at it. Those kids are MACHINES. Seriously. Little German kids just stacking away with ruthless efficiency.
Some coworkers and I were really into it, cheering for our American kids (to no avail) and having a grand old time.
Too bad it'll never be shown again. At least until next year's world championships.
P.S. I'm pretty sure Alone Together (aka Josh and I) had the idea for an acoustic "Hey Ya" cover first, but I think this guy's execution was a little better.
*Note the obvious omission of the word "sport."
Sport Stacking.
The 2006 World Sport Stacking Championships, to be precise.
Do not let the name deceive you. These kids are clearly stacking cups. However, in 2004, the World Sport Stacking Association (WSSA - I swear I'm not making that up), changed the name of the activity from cup stacking to sport stacking in order to give it "immediate identification as a competitive sport."
This is ridiculous, but watching televised sport stacking clearly IS NOT. It is hypnotic and amazing. I learned so much about 3-6-3, 6-6, 1-10-1 cycles, relays, doubles competitions and everything else this amazing competitive activity* has to offer.
But just like anything the world has ever invented, the Germans have found a way to be better at it. Those kids are MACHINES. Seriously. Little German kids just stacking away with ruthless efficiency.
Some coworkers and I were really into it, cheering for our American kids (to no avail) and having a grand old time.
Too bad it'll never be shown again. At least until next year's world championships.
P.S. I'm pretty sure Alone Together (aka Josh and I) had the idea for an acoustic "Hey Ya" cover first, but I think this guy's execution was a little better.
*Note the obvious omission of the word "sport."
8.22.2006
Ironically, it's a very childish act
There is one solid example I can point to in order to certify that I am now, in fact, a practicing adult.
When I purchase a new loaf of bread, the first thing I do is throw away the front heel. I'm never going to eat it and quite frankly, I grow weary of reaching around it every time I go for bread.
It is my bread and I feel just fine with my decision.
I'm so grown up.
When I purchase a new loaf of bread, the first thing I do is throw away the front heel. I'm never going to eat it and quite frankly, I grow weary of reaching around it every time I go for bread.
It is my bread and I feel just fine with my decision.
I'm so grown up.
8.10.2006
Lock up your guns, unlock your bibles
Here's some fascinating reading for your Friday.
I've often heard of Bob Jones University, one of the most fundamentalist Christian colleges in the country. But it's mostly in a political context - when a politician goes to speak there, you can be sure they're trying to shore up their conservative base.
But an offhand comment on The Colbert Report the other week made me wonder - what is life really like for students at BJ University? I did a little digging and found pretty easily just how awesome campus life is. They're not shy about it. They put it right out there:
Student Expectations
Dress Code
Campus Life
Here are some of my favorite excerpts.
Students may work in town until 10:25 pm on weekdays and midnight on weekends. Freshmen must have a prayer captain, assistant prayer captain, or upperclassman with them.
In the event that the assistant prayer captain is unable to fulfill his or her duties...
(Wait, my mistake. Women can't be prayer captains. DUH!)
Sophomores and upperclassmen may work alone.
No man works alone, BJU. You should know this.
Students may not serve alcoholic beverages when waiting tables at restaurants.
Come to think of it, don't even look at alcohol. Don't even think about it. Erase the word "alcohol" from your vocabulary. We're trying to set an example here.
Hair must be cut in a traditional, conservative style–not shaved, spiked, tangled, or shelved.
Shelved? What the crap does that mean? Does that mean I couldn't do my hair like Kid from Kid 'n' Play? Is that shelved? Geez, BJU. If you have students trying to shelve their hair, you have more problems than nonconservative hairstyles. You have some sort of time paradox on your hands.
Necklines may come no lower than four fingers below the collarbone.
Unfortunately for BJU, I measure necklines using giant foam fingers.
Students are required to keep their rooms clean and neat. Rooms are inspected daily.
Also, your telescreen may be dimmed, but there is no way of shutting it off completely. (Second 1984 reference in one week, thank you very much.)
Music must be compatible with the University's music standards:
Residence hall students may not watch videos above a G rating when visiting homes in town and may not attend movie theaters.
So, no Passion of the Christ then? No Left Behind: Tribulation Force? Geez, I don't even think Carman's Greatest Hits - The Videos got a G rating.
All weapons must be turned in for storage. Trigger locks are required for pistols.
Actually, for this demographic, that rule makes perfect sense.
So I think what I'm saying here is that I know of one guy who is seriously thinking about going back to school. Because the first time around was simply too much ...oh, what's the word...fun.
I've often heard of Bob Jones University, one of the most fundamentalist Christian colleges in the country. But it's mostly in a political context - when a politician goes to speak there, you can be sure they're trying to shore up their conservative base.
But an offhand comment on The Colbert Report the other week made me wonder - what is life really like for students at BJ University? I did a little digging and found pretty easily just how awesome campus life is. They're not shy about it. They put it right out there:
Student Expectations
Dress Code
Campus Life
Here are some of my favorite excerpts.
Students may work in town until 10:25 pm on weekdays and midnight on weekends. Freshmen must have a prayer captain, assistant prayer captain, or upperclassman with them.
In the event that the assistant prayer captain is unable to fulfill his or her duties...
(Wait, my mistake. Women can't be prayer captains. DUH!)
Sophomores and upperclassmen may work alone.
No man works alone, BJU. You should know this.
Students may not serve alcoholic beverages when waiting tables at restaurants.
Come to think of it, don't even look at alcohol. Don't even think about it. Erase the word "alcohol" from your vocabulary. We're trying to set an example here.
Hair must be cut in a traditional, conservative style–not shaved, spiked, tangled, or shelved.
Shelved? What the crap does that mean? Does that mean I couldn't do my hair like Kid from Kid 'n' Play? Is that shelved? Geez, BJU. If you have students trying to shelve their hair, you have more problems than nonconservative hairstyles. You have some sort of time paradox on your hands.
Necklines may come no lower than four fingers below the collarbone.
Unfortunately for BJU, I measure necklines using giant foam fingers.
Students are required to keep their rooms clean and neat. Rooms are inspected daily.
Also, your telescreen may be dimmed, but there is no way of shutting it off completely. (Second 1984 reference in one week, thank you very much.)
Music must be compatible with the University's music standards:
- Contemporary Christian music is not permitted (e.g., Michael W. Smith, Stephen Curtis Chapman, WOW Worship, and so forth).
Residence hall students may not watch videos above a G rating when visiting homes in town and may not attend movie theaters.
So, no Passion of the Christ then? No Left Behind: Tribulation Force? Geez, I don't even think Carman's Greatest Hits - The Videos got a G rating.
All weapons must be turned in for storage. Trigger locks are required for pistols.
Actually, for this demographic, that rule makes perfect sense.
So I think what I'm saying here is that I know of one guy who is seriously thinking about going back to school. Because the first time around was simply too much ...oh, what's the word...fun.
8.07.2006
A very important announcement
ATTENTION, DENIZENS OF MYSPACE:
When I get to your MySpace profile page, the very first thing I do is PAUSE YOUR MUSIC. I think it is great that you are totally into Gnarls Barkley and good Lord it is NOT EVEN THE SONG "CRAZY," GOOD FOR YOU, but that does not stop it from being ANNOYING AND DISRUPTIVE.
You may think that your music selection says a lot about you, but the only thing it says to me is that you are very interested in interrupting the music I AM CURRENTLY LISTENING TO. I repeat, I AM CURRENTLY LISTENING TO MY OWN MUSIC.
In conclusion, please take down your music selection off your profile page. If you absolutely insist on choosing a song to represent your entire being, feel free to include in the "About Me" section the following phrase: "I would normally be playing _________ right now, but TimmyTapeworm's impeccable logic has caused me to come to my senses, so I will merely tell you about it."
Also, Oceania is at war with Eastasia. OCEANIA HAS ALWAYS BEEN AT WAR WITH EASTASIA.
THAT IS ALL.
P.S. It has taken me three weeks to gather the courage to post this.
When I get to your MySpace profile page, the very first thing I do is PAUSE YOUR MUSIC. I think it is great that you are totally into Gnarls Barkley and good Lord it is NOT EVEN THE SONG "CRAZY," GOOD FOR YOU, but that does not stop it from being ANNOYING AND DISRUPTIVE.
You may think that your music selection says a lot about you, but the only thing it says to me is that you are very interested in interrupting the music I AM CURRENTLY LISTENING TO. I repeat, I AM CURRENTLY LISTENING TO MY OWN MUSIC.
In conclusion, please take down your music selection off your profile page. If you absolutely insist on choosing a song to represent your entire being, feel free to include in the "About Me" section the following phrase: "I would normally be playing _________ right now, but TimmyTapeworm's impeccable logic has caused me to come to my senses, so I will merely tell you about it."
Also, Oceania is at war with Eastasia. OCEANIA HAS ALWAYS BEEN AT WAR WITH EASTASIA.
THAT IS ALL.
P.S. It has taken me three weeks to gather the courage to post this.
7.13.2006
Yes, there is such a thing
An open letter to The Format
Re: Your newest album "Dog Problems"
Dear The Format,
You are listening to entirely too much Queen.
Sincerely,
Timmy Tapeworm
Re: Your newest album "Dog Problems"
Dear The Format,
You are listening to entirely too much Queen.
Sincerely,
Timmy Tapeworm
7.12.2006
Ah, the old "Davidson Sweep..."
Big ups to the ladies of Cheetara, who won their first-round match in the World Series of Pop Culture. Erin Davidson really came through for them with a little technique I call "The Davidson Sweep." Take that, guy wearing girls jeans! Take that, shoegazer!
I was watching with a ton of people at Fizz after ComedySportz rehearsal, which was super fun. Everyone cheered whenever a Cheetara member was even briefly pictured and booed the other team. It was just like watching a melodrama, except no one got tied to the train tracks. I felt bad booing the two girls on the other team because they seemed pretty nice, if a little pretentious. But I could boo that knob Colin for all eternity.
The message boards have already lit up (and by that I mean 3 posts and 2 replies) with people saying how obnoxious they find Cheetara's exuberance. You say obnoxious, I say infectious. Plus, you're posting on the Internet about someone you just saw on TV and decided you didn't care for. Which one is really obnoxious here?
Go Cheetara! Take out those Laser Wolves!
P.S. I don't know (and neither do they) when their next episode airs, but I'll let you know. For those of you keeping track, this is about the third ComedySportz ensemble member to be on a nationally televised game show in the past 9 months. We're smart people. And gamey.
I was watching with a ton of people at Fizz after ComedySportz rehearsal, which was super fun. Everyone cheered whenever a Cheetara member was even briefly pictured and booed the other team. It was just like watching a melodrama, except no one got tied to the train tracks. I felt bad booing the two girls on the other team because they seemed pretty nice, if a little pretentious. But I could boo that knob Colin for all eternity.
The message boards have already lit up (and by that I mean 3 posts and 2 replies) with people saying how obnoxious they find Cheetara's exuberance. You say obnoxious, I say infectious. Plus, you're posting on the Internet about someone you just saw on TV and decided you didn't care for. Which one is really obnoxious here?
Go Cheetara! Take out those Laser Wolves!
P.S. I don't know (and neither do they) when their next episode airs, but I'll let you know. For those of you keeping track, this is about the third ComedySportz ensemble member to be on a nationally televised game show in the past 9 months. We're smart people. And gamey.
7.11.2006
Giant Jug o' Water, copyright 2006
Everyone has something that they're kind of known for at their place of employment.
There's the "crossword guy," the "neverending coffee guy," or, if you work in my office, the "bird lady." This is the lady who brought her pet bird into work one day and had it sit on her shoulder all day long.
The bird was wearing a diaper. The bird had many little outfits, including a Cubs jersey and a tuxedo with removable tails. The bird freaked out during lunch when the lady went to Chili's.
This lady no longer works in my office.
But anyway, I figure if you're going to be assigned an identity anyway, I might as well beat people to the punch and choose mine so I don't get something stupid.
That's why I decided to be "Giant Jug o' Water guy."
Check it out:
This is what you get when you order the "Family Meal Deal" at Six Flags Great America. They filled that sucker with Sprite and I drank the whole thing. I guess they just assume that everyone in the family wants the same thing and is okay with using the same straw.
If you'll notice, there's a removable compartment on the bottom for additional ice storage. That's right, the Coke cups are partly obscuring the bottom portion of the jug. It's that big.
So now I keep that mofo at my desk. I fill it once in the morning (making sure to fill the removable compartment with ice) and I never have to refill it. I just drink it all day. I'm super-hydrated now, which I hear is healthy.
Plus, getting up to go to the bathroom 8 times a day really breaks the monotony.
edit: Be sure to check out "World Series of Pop Culture" on VH1 tonight. One Chicago team, Cheetarah, is made up of three female improvisors, two of whom play at ComedySportz. So cheer 'em on!
There's the "crossword guy," the "neverending coffee guy," or, if you work in my office, the "bird lady." This is the lady who brought her pet bird into work one day and had it sit on her shoulder all day long.
The bird was wearing a diaper. The bird had many little outfits, including a Cubs jersey and a tuxedo with removable tails. The bird freaked out during lunch when the lady went to Chili's.
This lady no longer works in my office.
But anyway, I figure if you're going to be assigned an identity anyway, I might as well beat people to the punch and choose mine so I don't get something stupid.
That's why I decided to be "Giant Jug o' Water guy."
Check it out:
This is what you get when you order the "Family Meal Deal" at Six Flags Great America. They filled that sucker with Sprite and I drank the whole thing. I guess they just assume that everyone in the family wants the same thing and is okay with using the same straw.If you'll notice, there's a removable compartment on the bottom for additional ice storage. That's right, the Coke cups are partly obscuring the bottom portion of the jug. It's that big.
So now I keep that mofo at my desk. I fill it once in the morning (making sure to fill the removable compartment with ice) and I never have to refill it. I just drink it all day. I'm super-hydrated now, which I hear is healthy.
Plus, getting up to go to the bathroom 8 times a day really breaks the monotony.
edit: Be sure to check out "World Series of Pop Culture" on VH1 tonight. One Chicago team, Cheetarah, is made up of three female improvisors, two of whom play at ComedySportz. So cheer 'em on!
7.10.2006
Married to the C above high C
I figure that if I can't entertain you daily, the least I can do is point you to something that can. In that vein, I highly recommend you check out one of my new favorite webcomics:
Married to the Sea
Old-timey pictures + modern-day captions = constant hilarity.
Married to the Sea
Old-timey pictures + modern-day captions = constant hilarity.
6.30.2006
Found a brick and I'm drowning slowly...
When my dad was investigating my bathroom last weekend (as he has been known to do), he commented that our toilet was running more than it should.
Thus began my quest. To Find a Brick: a Ryder's Tale.
You all remember those crazy environmentalists who used to tell you to put a brick in your toilet tank to conserve water. Well, screw those guys. I just wanted to save us money. But I needed a brick nonetheless.
This led me to the following dilemma: where does one buy a brick? I mean, AH brick. One brick. To the best of my understanding, these things are normally bought in bulk or fired in one's own kiln. (Josh, correct me if I'm wrong.) I checked Walgreens, but they didn't stock bricks. So I was pretty much out of ideas.
td recommended we just steal one from the construction site next door or even the old ComedySportz theatre. That would have been fun, now that I think about it. A little piece of comedy sitting in our toilet tank. Anyway, I went to our back alley to poke around.
Found one in 30 seconds.
Thanks, City of Chicago and guys building things, for making bricks accessible and affordable for all of us!
Thus began my quest. To Find a Brick: a Ryder's Tale.
You all remember those crazy environmentalists who used to tell you to put a brick in your toilet tank to conserve water. Well, screw those guys. I just wanted to save us money. But I needed a brick nonetheless.
This led me to the following dilemma: where does one buy a brick? I mean, AH brick. One brick. To the best of my understanding, these things are normally bought in bulk or fired in one's own kiln. (Josh, correct me if I'm wrong.) I checked Walgreens, but they didn't stock bricks. So I was pretty much out of ideas.
td recommended we just steal one from the construction site next door or even the old ComedySportz theatre. That would have been fun, now that I think about it. A little piece of comedy sitting in our toilet tank. Anyway, I went to our back alley to poke around.
Found one in 30 seconds.
Thanks, City of Chicago and guys building things, for making bricks accessible and affordable for all of us!
6.29.2006
I can't even see the balls when I'm playing
Just gonna ease back into it...
There's a TV in the lunchroom at my workplace and often when I bring my lunch, I like to play a game. (I'm almost always the only one in there, so it's not like I'm bothering anyone.)
I like to find the most obscure ESPN channel that's offered and watch whatever's on it. Today, and I'm not making this up:
The United States Paintball Championship.
Aside from my sheer amazement that such an event is televised, I have only one comment:
Worst. Spectator sport. Ever.
There's a TV in the lunchroom at my workplace and often when I bring my lunch, I like to play a game. (I'm almost always the only one in there, so it's not like I'm bothering anyone.)
I like to find the most obscure ESPN channel that's offered and watch whatever's on it. Today, and I'm not making this up:
The United States Paintball Championship.
Aside from my sheer amazement that such an event is televised, I have only one comment:
Worst. Spectator sport. Ever.
6.09.2006
Uh...metablogging? For reals?
This blog sucks, you guys.
Seriously. Two weeks without a peep? This is a debacle of a magnitude not seen since the infamous There and Back Again incident of 2004.
But don't worry - I've figured out why this happened. I've apparently made my entire life unbloggable.
Every weekday I get up and go to work. But I don't want to be one of those idiots who gets fired for blogging about his job. Frustrating as it may be sometimes, my job is pretty okay and it pays the bills. It beats unemployment, that's for sure. So that's a big chunk of my life that's off limits.
Most nights I have something improv-related. Either rehearsal, a class, or a show. And relating improv stories, especially hilarious things that you yourself did onstage, is about the most self-indulgent and...I'm trying to think of a different word for masturbatory, but I can't*. Relating improv stories is simply a masturbatory exercise. So that's out.
And most of my free time is spent with my very special lady friend**. Obviously I don't want to share my private life with the Internet public at large.
So what's left? Racist cookie jars?
That seriously is something to talk about soon. Man, I miss that guy.
Or does it mean a lot of silly cat pictures?
Heh heh. Come on, that's funny. I mean, he's a funny cat. I sometimes think about dressing him up in funny costumes. OH GOD PLEASE NEVER LET ME DO THAT
I also think that the creative need that blogging once fulfilled is now being fulfilled by other things. Besides, if I give the Internet all the good bits, I'll have nothing left for the stage.
So what does this mean for "Not All Who Wander Are Lost"? Don't worry, I'm not about to abandon it completely. There's too much history to just walk away***. But at the moment, I just can't justify giving it a lot of time, so you loyal readers might have to deal with some time in between posts.
Hopefully not two weeks though. Geez, all kinds of things have happened since two weeks ago.
But that, my friends, is a topic for another day...****
*Sorry people who are upset by the word masturbatory.
**I have a special lady friend now.
***This sounds like a break up?
****I doubt I'll ever get to it.
Seriously. Two weeks without a peep? This is a debacle of a magnitude not seen since the infamous There and Back Again incident of 2004.
But don't worry - I've figured out why this happened. I've apparently made my entire life unbloggable.
Every weekday I get up and go to work. But I don't want to be one of those idiots who gets fired for blogging about his job. Frustrating as it may be sometimes, my job is pretty okay and it pays the bills. It beats unemployment, that's for sure. So that's a big chunk of my life that's off limits.
Most nights I have something improv-related. Either rehearsal, a class, or a show. And relating improv stories, especially hilarious things that you yourself did onstage, is about the most self-indulgent and...I'm trying to think of a different word for masturbatory, but I can't*. Relating improv stories is simply a masturbatory exercise. So that's out.
And most of my free time is spent with my very special lady friend**. Obviously I don't want to share my private life with the Internet public at large.
So what's left? Racist cookie jars?
That seriously is something to talk about soon. Man, I miss that guy.
Or does it mean a lot of silly cat pictures?
Heh heh. Come on, that's funny. I mean, he's a funny cat. I sometimes think about dressing him up in funny costumes. OH GOD PLEASE NEVER LET ME DO THAT
I also think that the creative need that blogging once fulfilled is now being fulfilled by other things. Besides, if I give the Internet all the good bits, I'll have nothing left for the stage.
So what does this mean for "Not All Who Wander Are Lost"? Don't worry, I'm not about to abandon it completely. There's too much history to just walk away***. But at the moment, I just can't justify giving it a lot of time, so you loyal readers might have to deal with some time in between posts.
Hopefully not two weeks though. Geez, all kinds of things have happened since two weeks ago.
But that, my friends, is a topic for another day...****
*Sorry people who are upset by the word masturbatory.
**I have a special lady friend now.
***This sounds like a break up?
****I doubt I'll ever get to it.
5.26.2006
Something happened with the hatch, maybe? I think there's a hatch?
Oh man, did you guys see who won American Idol*?!
How about the season finale of Lost**?!
And ohmigosh, can you believe what happened on Grey's Anatomy***?!
It's okay if you don't, I have no idea what happened on any of these shows. And that's why I have absolutely nothing to contribute to any of my coworkers' conversations.
I'm kind of okay with it.
*It was apparently the 50-year-old man.
**Some questions were answered, some were not. Additional questions were raised.
***Someone died and two people got it on.
How about the season finale of Lost**?!
And ohmigosh, can you believe what happened on Grey's Anatomy***?!
It's okay if you don't, I have no idea what happened on any of these shows. And that's why I have absolutely nothing to contribute to any of my coworkers' conversations.
I'm kind of okay with it.
*It was apparently the 50-year-old man.
**Some questions were answered, some were not. Additional questions were raised.
***Someone died and two people got it on.
5.25.2006
It's pretty indie, I doubt you've heard of it
Oh my gosh, you guys.
I discovered the most amazing album the other night. If you consider yourself a fan of music in any way, you NEED to hear it.
It's called "The White Album."
Have you heard it? You have to hear it.
I really think it's going to change music as we know it.
I discovered the most amazing album the other night. If you consider yourself a fan of music in any way, you NEED to hear it.
It's called "The White Album."
Have you heard it? You have to hear it.
I really think it's going to change music as we know it.
5.23.2006
5.22.2006
An epilogue
Thanks a lot, you guys. I'm so impressionable that your prodding forced me to use the fancy-schmancy toaster on my Pop-Tarts this morning*. Either I'm not smart enough to understand it or I wasn't paying attention, but they ended up overtoasted and not pleasant.
I think I'll stick to raw Pop-Tarts from now on, thank you.
The lesson learned from this escapade: "Never listen to your mother or Joanna. At least not when it comes to toaster pastries."
*>use toaster on pop-tarts
"I'm sorry, I do not understand 'pop-tarts'"
>take boat
I think I'll stick to raw Pop-Tarts from now on, thank you.
The lesson learned from this escapade: "Never listen to your mother or Joanna. At least not when it comes to toaster pastries."
*>use toaster on pop-tarts
"I'm sorry, I do not understand 'pop-tarts'"
>take boat
5.19.2006
In the raw
I was eating my normal mid-morning snack of two Pop-Tarts straight out of the bag at my desk the other day when a coworker stopped by to ask about something.
"Eww," she said. "Are you eating those Pop-Tarts raw?"
"Yeah," I replied. "I guess I am. I should be more worried about salmonella, but I live on the edge."
This was really funny to me and not even in a what-a-stupid-thing-to-say kind of way. I suppose, in the most technical sense of the word, she's absolutely correct. The Pop-Tarts are uncooked and therefore, quite raw.
I just found the perspective pretty hilarious. I guess I've been eating a lot of things raw without even knowing it. From now on, I'm cooking everything.
One cannot be too safe.
EDIT: Okay, I know I link to it a lot, but today's Dinosaur Comics made me laugh so hard I rocked with silent laughter in my cube, lest someone become curious. Plus, if you scroll down on this page a bit, you'll see an automatic updater for Dinosaur Comics. Man, obsess much?
"Eww," she said. "Are you eating those Pop-Tarts raw?"
"Yeah," I replied. "I guess I am. I should be more worried about salmonella, but I live on the edge."
This was really funny to me and not even in a what-a-stupid-thing-to-say kind of way. I suppose, in the most technical sense of the word, she's absolutely correct. The Pop-Tarts are uncooked and therefore, quite raw.
I just found the perspective pretty hilarious. I guess I've been eating a lot of things raw without even knowing it. From now on, I'm cooking everything.
One cannot be too safe.
EDIT: Okay, I know I link to it a lot, but today's Dinosaur Comics made me laugh so hard I rocked with silent laughter in my cube, lest someone become curious. Plus, if you scroll down on this page a bit, you'll see an automatic updater for Dinosaur Comics. Man, obsess much?
5.12.2006
Red, White and Blaine
(Disclaimer: I started this post on Friday afternoon when it was pretty slow at work. Strangely, my weekend was quite busy, so I am now finishing it on Monday because it is pretty slow at work. It is not quite as topical anymore, but at least it is something.)
Holy crap, The Office. Not only did you give us one of the funniest episodes of the season, you provided not one, but two "make-Tim-gasp-like-a-little-girl" moments in the last 10 minutes. We're talking actual hand-to-mouth gasps, people. That's impressive. A tip of the cap to you, my good friend*. It will be a long summer without your company.
But now to the main focus of today's post...
An Open Letter to David Blaine (with apologies to Rico Diablo)
Dear David Blaine,
You are a failure. An absolute, miserable, utter failure.
You might assume that I mean this in the most topical, up-to-the-minute sense because you failed in your attempt to break the world record for holding your breath. Of course, you did that. You didn't even come close. You failed pretty hard.
But you are a failure in so much more than that.
You are a failure in every sense of the word. You have failed at life, sir.
Remember when your first TV special came out? The year was 1997 and your "Street Magic" took the world by storm. While your so-bland-as-to-be-almost-dead persona was grating to some, none could deny the effect you had on the general public. People were excited.
Not long after that, you completely blew it.
Apparently, something caused you to completely forget that you are a magician. An illusionist. Not a freaking miracle worker/survivalist.
Allow me to break this down for you.
Levitating while standing 4 feet away from a stranger on the street is exciting. Making the name of some lady appear in ash on your forearm is exciting. Even card tricks are fairly exciting, when done in your trademark creepy fashion.
Fasting for 44 days while suspended in a clear plastic box is not exciting. It takes 44 days. Encased in ice, you say? Don't care. 61 hours is still about 61 hours too long. You got a little warmer with this whole breath-holding stunt, but what you've got to realize is that trying to hold your breath for 9 minutes is still 9 minutes of you just floating there.
Now if, at around the 8 minute mark, you had started flailing wildly and then DISAPPEARED, that would have been a magic show.
But no, no one does those kinds of magic shows anymore. Not even the great David Copperfield, who walked through the Great Wall of China and made the Statue of Liberty disappear. Nope, you've even ruined things for him. His latest special was something awful involving a "Tornado of Fire." He was trying to be like you because apparently that is was passes for magic these days. It was just sad, really.
Thanks a lot, David Blaine**. Thanks for ruining magic forever***.
*Notice here I have personified an entire television show.
**Finally, the title of your latest special was "Drowned Alive." I'm not even going to start on how stupid that is.
***Man, I really have a lot to say about David Blaine.
Holy crap, The Office. Not only did you give us one of the funniest episodes of the season, you provided not one, but two "make-Tim-gasp-like-a-little-girl" moments in the last 10 minutes. We're talking actual hand-to-mouth gasps, people. That's impressive. A tip of the cap to you, my good friend*. It will be a long summer without your company.
But now to the main focus of today's post...
An Open Letter to David Blaine (with apologies to Rico Diablo)
Dear David Blaine,
You are a failure. An absolute, miserable, utter failure.
You might assume that I mean this in the most topical, up-to-the-minute sense because you failed in your attempt to break the world record for holding your breath. Of course, you did that. You didn't even come close. You failed pretty hard.
But you are a failure in so much more than that.
You are a failure in every sense of the word. You have failed at life, sir.
Remember when your first TV special came out? The year was 1997 and your "Street Magic" took the world by storm. While your so-bland-as-to-be-almost-dead persona was grating to some, none could deny the effect you had on the general public. People were excited.
Not long after that, you completely blew it.
Apparently, something caused you to completely forget that you are a magician. An illusionist. Not a freaking miracle worker/survivalist.
Allow me to break this down for you.
Levitating while standing 4 feet away from a stranger on the street is exciting. Making the name of some lady appear in ash on your forearm is exciting. Even card tricks are fairly exciting, when done in your trademark creepy fashion.
Fasting for 44 days while suspended in a clear plastic box is not exciting. It takes 44 days. Encased in ice, you say? Don't care. 61 hours is still about 61 hours too long. You got a little warmer with this whole breath-holding stunt, but what you've got to realize is that trying to hold your breath for 9 minutes is still 9 minutes of you just floating there.
Now if, at around the 8 minute mark, you had started flailing wildly and then DISAPPEARED, that would have been a magic show.
But no, no one does those kinds of magic shows anymore. Not even the great David Copperfield, who walked through the Great Wall of China and made the Statue of Liberty disappear. Nope, you've even ruined things for him. His latest special was something awful involving a "Tornado of Fire." He was trying to be like you because apparently that is was passes for magic these days. It was just sad, really.
Thanks a lot, David Blaine**. Thanks for ruining magic forever***.
*Notice here I have personified an entire television show.
**Finally, the title of your latest special was "Drowned Alive." I'm not even going to start on how stupid that is.
***Man, I really have a lot to say about David Blaine.
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