Probably the last YouTube post for a while. But this kills me. Probably doesn't promote the right reasons for drinking but promotes drinking nonetheless. Good fight, good night.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
I think this might be the first iPod Commercial. It seems like it came out so long ago, yet it was only five years. I don't know if anyone at Apple thought iPods were going to get as big as they did. Thought this was pretty cool.
On a side note, I'm becoming increasingly technologically advanced in my blog. Look, a video! And not yesterday I discovered how to make a link pop into a new window! Wow, these internets really are pretty neat. Anyway I noticed that recently I've been posting more than I usually do. I don't really know why.
This sentence is similar to Lewis Black's example: "I never would have spent that year in college if it wasn't for my horse". What is wrong with you, Matthew Lesko? And why do I want to keep spelling your name Matthew Lesco?
You've never seen a book so easy to use. Are you retarded? A book so easy to use? I have to assume that someone besides Matthew Lesko looked at the script before he made the commercial. I assume someone saw the commercial in post-production before it hit the air. So I think it's fair to say that this was not a script error.
I can't get over this. A BOOK so easy to USE. I can see it now. You order your fresh copy of whatever his book is called, pull it out of the box (did he get the government to pay the postage), but wait, is the book broken? You just cannot figure out how to use it. You look in the box again; salvation! The instruction manual.
Step 1. Hold book in hands. For proper operation, ensure book is in the upright position
Step 2. With left hand, grasp top cover and tug in an arcing motion from right to left.
Step 3. Look down at text. Read.
Step 4. When all text has been read on page, take hand, and in similar arcing motion to cover, turn page. Repeat as needed.
Holy retarded dogshit, Batman! It really is the easiest book to operate I've ever seen! Matthew Lesko, I am hereby submitting your name to Keith Olbermann's 'Worst People in the World' bit on MSNBC. As soon as I figure out how.
In conclusion, I have misspelled Matthew Lesko's name every time I've typed it (including that one), therefore Matthew Lesko, you should rename yourself to Matthew Lesco.
It was a holiday attire themed party. Men had to wear either Christmas sweaters or cocktail party and women the same. We had a laisez-faire economy with drinks. You give me $5 and I get you drunk. This for that, get it? To be honest with you, I've been having more fun with the pictures than the actual post, so you're kind of getting fucked if you want to hear about the party.
Anyway, a metric shitload of people showed up, we went through all of our booze (and then some), and many a people got fairly intoxicated (an understatement). Sangster (left) left his bow tie (pictured right) in my room. I'm not going to apologize about the poor quality of the writing on the pictures. You try doing that with a touch pad, and tell me how it goes. As a side note, I notice that all my posts recently have been late at night. Anyway, I'm going to bed.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Excellent cinematography, beautiful scenery, and the director had a great selection of cut sequences. It is interesting to point out that George Clooney appeared to have put on a considerable amount of weight for this role, and even changed his stride to fit the character. Overall his acting was clean and convincing except the torture sequence. Yeah, he gets tortured, no it doesn't look convincing. If you haven't seen the movie and still want to, then maybe you should pick up my blog at the next entry--though it's not like I'm telling you that Bruce Willis was dead in the Sixth Sense.
I've fucked up my fingernails before, and let me tell you, shit hurts. A lot. Getting ten of them pulled out with a pair of nail pulling pliers (interestingly enough their actual name, look it up) would probably leave you in enough pain to make it difficult to utter a one liner to your accuser.
So that was pretty much my big qualm with the movie. Syriana shows an in depth look at the intense corruption of the oil industry, and how America will do what it takes to keep ourselves on top. It touches into the causes of Muslim extremism, and how the American government is more concerned with keeping the supply going than fostering democracy in the Middle East. As Danny Dalton said, "Corruption is why we win."
I really liked the ending. It came very fast and very hard, and wasn't your typical uplifting Hollywood ending. Syriana, like our foreign policy leaves the viewer with a lot of unanswered questions, and untied knots. Definitely a movie I'll see again, if for no other reason to try and understand the part of the plot that I missed the first time. Highly recommended.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Saturday, December 23, 2006
By now, I'm sure you know what I mean. You used to go to a cocktail party and comment on the killer apps that the host made. Or got catered. Regardless, it meant that the appetizers happened to be pretty good. Then along came Al Gore and his "The Internet". All of a sudden, computers are becoming more important than food, and people are playing World of Warcraft (if you don't know, click) for 12 hours straight. So now people go to computer parties, and await the release of the next "killer app" while eating what are potentially delicious hors d'oeuvres. This has been another educational lesson brought to you by A Clean, Well Lighted Place, makers of Frank's Homicidal Ointment. Thanks for reading, and we hope to see you soon.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Click Here to watch. You don't need to be an IT guy to get a chuckle out of it.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
It really is amazing that not even two years ago, this was me. Well that's not true. Less than two years ago, I was a much less insightful more caddy version of this. Now that's not particularly amazing at all.
I wish I could say that all the pressure and stress of high school will go away when you graduate. But let's be honest. College isn't exactly a breeze, and I sometimes feel that we party so hard only to blow off all the accumulated steam from the week. And then work. Work sucks, there's no way around it. But, using the Nuremburg defense, it pays the mortgage.
I'm just bitching because I really don't want to finish writing this paper. Shit. I'm going to run to 7Eleven (or is it Seven11) to get another Redbull.
Walking back to my room tonight, I saw something I never saw before. It was a cab, but not any ordinary cab. You see, this cab was a stretch limo. It was dressed in typical D.C. cab fashion (i.e. it was that drab gray color, had the TAXI light on top, and had the name of the driver, it was something like M.Ahmadinejad Cab Company).
The bastard was also driving in typical D.C. cab fashion (i.e. too fast for me to take a picture). Now I know that unlike real cities such as New York, Washington doesn't require cabs to conform to any particular standard. That's why you see the Jeep cabs and the Suburban cabs (don't forget the two-door Dodge Intrepid cabs, but come on now, a stretch limo cab? Now that's just a little ridiculous.
Well I have nothing else really to say about that. Stay tuned for the "I Recently Hosted a Kick-Ass Party" post and the "Really Fat Pigeons" post as well.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
I'm going to begin with Exhibit A: 51st State's 10 cent wings:
OK, this is pretty self explanatory, and not particularly funny. It was Tuesday night, there were 10 cent wings. We got them. It is important to note that by the time our story picks up, they have been sitting on the table for about two hours.
Moving along, here we are, sitting at this long table, and we had kind of merged with the table sitting next to us, making a very large group of vague association. People kept coming over and chatting with us and what not, at least somebody knew everyone, it worked out well. So anyway, this very drunk girl comes over to our end, and sees the wings and lunges for them. No problem, we weren't eating them, feel free. The problem is, however that she dipped it in the blue cheese dip. Normally not a problem but tonight is no ordinary night. There was no ashtray on the table, so after we finished eating the wings, the smokers used the blue cheese dip as an ashtray.
Exhibit B: The blue cheese right after the girl dipped into it.
If you would notice, the top part of the container has no ash on top. That's what the girl ate. We all knew what was happening, and were all just kind of sitting there in awe as she wolfed the wing down. After she finished the wing, she put the bones back on the plate and walked away. We all cracked up, amazed that she ate this wing, covered in cigarette ash, and had no idea. I don' think she ever found out. I find that very funny.
Sorry for the quality of the pictures, they were taken on my cell phone in a dark bar, and I was pretty drunk.
I actually talked with this particular Prof about just handing in my assignment early so I wouldn't have to be here today. That idea got shot down...rather quickly. She said I wouldn't be getting full credit. And when I said I had to drive home on 95 to Connecticut, she informed me that yeah, she also had to drive home to Michigan tonight. Thats wonderful. I have to take one of the most used swaths of land ever created home, while she gets to drive through Ohio and western Pennsylvania. Yeah, a very popular travel route, I might add.
This sucks. I want to go home.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
A funny thing happened to me at the bar last night, but that'll come later.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
What do you mean name coming soon? Is there such a shortage of people that decide crayon colors at Crayola that they just can't keep up with the supply? I'm sure you can understand my predicament. Here I am in the midst of my Picasso quality renderings (staying within the lines and all), and I just want to know what color this crayon is going to be.
Needless to say I didn't use it and will probably be sending an angry letter to the Crayola Corporation. And if Crayola isn't its own corporation, then whoever makes Crayolas, you're going to hear about it from me.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Sec. 14-226. Operator to report injury to dog. Any person who has knowledge of causing, by the operation of a motor vehicle, injury or death to a dog shall at once stop and render such assistance as may be possible, shall immediately report such injury or death to such dog's owner or such owner's representative and shall give his name, address and operator's license and registration numbers to such owner or representative or any witness or peace officer. If unable to ascertain and locate such owner or representative, such operator shall, at once, report the injury or death to a police officer, constable, state police officer or inspector of motor vehicles, to whom he shall give the location of such accident and a description of the dog. Violation of any provision of this section shall be an infraction. No operator shall be convicted under the provisions of subsection (b) of section 14-224 when such operator has caused injury or death to a dog.
Monday, November 06, 2006
I don't even know what to say to this. I mean don't you need a Facebook in order to post. And then lets be honest, do you really need to say "Beffy says WOOF WOOF (happy birthday in doggy language)". Where to begin.
First off, I just hope Beffy's a dog, cause if she isn't thats pretty awkward. Second, and this is kind of contingent on the first part, who names their dog Beffy. It's a stupid name, there I said it. If you're reading this, and your dog's name is Beffy, feel free to have it sue me for slander. Or better yet, defamation of character.
Why does Beffy actually need to say "WOOF WOOF" in the message. Why couldnt Mom & Dad simply have said, "It appears that our dog with the stupid name misses you." Because let's be honest mysterious Facebook ad girl, your dog doesn't know its your birthday.
So in conclusion, I came across this little tidbit while not finishing some presentation at 4:45am, and hopefully this is the only time it will be up for display.
Stay tuned next week for another edition of stupid people doing stupid things.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
I am a slave to a parking meter. It gets hungry every two hours and I hate it.
When I started feeding the beast at 7:00am, I had this dream that I kept getting parking tickets for $58.16. I don't know what this means, and I am also rapidly running out of quarters. Parking in the District is no fun.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Menthol Cigarettes Harder to Give Up
Smokers of menthol cigarettes find it harder to quit than those smoking other cigarettes, researchers said yesterday, perhaps explaining why African Americans suffer disproportionately from smoking-related ailments.
I don't know why it took me so long to post this, I guess I had a lot of other things that I needed to be doing, but I just think this is absolutely rediculous. For one thing, I am pretty amazed that something like that can get published today.
That's pretty much all I'm going to say about that. Just read the paragraph and contemplate.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Anyways, today I was having lunch outside Cosi (in truth, I had bought a Potbelly's sandwich and ate it outside Cosi...so sue me Potbelly's outside is under construction) when the weirdest thing happened to me. A bird fell right out of the sky about two feet in front of me and hit the ground with a dull thwack. The bird appeared to try to lift its wing, but then it just died.
It was very depressing.
The oddest part was that nobody noticed. There were people sitting around me, and I think that though they may have heard the bird hit the ground, they either didn't realize what it was or didn't care. Nobody on the sidewalk noticed either, and just naturally walked around it.
There was one guy that noticed it. He was on a cell phone and glanced down at the bird--probably by happenstance, and quickly did a double take. Is this something people see so often that they become desensitized to it? Oh look, there's another dead bird on the street. Ok. That's all I'm writing on this.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Oh Package Services, you never cease to amaze me with your ability to suck.
This well-oiled machine might be the biggest example of bureaucratic rediculousness ever.
Example 1: The new system they have in place. At the end of last year, Package Services said that they would be instituting a new system to expedite the line and getting your shit. The only thing they now do differently is: where there used to be chairs around the outer wall is where the line now snakes around. THATS THE ONLY THING THEY DO DIFFERENTLY.
Example 2: The 3 hour delay with email notification. So when Package services sends you an email that your package has arrived, you are supposed to wait 3 hours for processing and for it to actually show up. Why? When the package gets here, does it go somewhere besides package services? Okay, well maybe they just have to sort through it for 3 hours to put it in the right place. Here's a novel idea. Wait 3 hours before sending out the email. Put a delay on it if its automatic or something, cause that's just ridiculous. What a tease. Yeah, your package is here, but you can't have it yet.
You fucks, Package Services.
Stay tuned for my next diatribe on why the new Facebook feed should die. Done.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
Who does this, I mean honestly. I think this is one of the worst concepts of a business I have ever seen, and the worst part? I'm sure they will be doing great business down here.
You know what else I noticed. I was lying in bed with my eyes closed, and my Dad was surfing channels, and stopped on Springer for a second. All that show is is one person in the audience screaming whatever his or her heart desires, and the entire rest of the audience picking up on it. Like a cult or something. The topic, and people on stage are merely a catalyst into this groupthink.
All for now. More to come later, I'm sure.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
I tuned into it right at the beginning of a segment that consisted mainly of kids falling off sheep in what appeared to be Rodeo Lite. That's right ladies and gentlemen, there's this thing where people put their children on aggrivated sheep and allow them to run wild.
There are times when one thinks that perhaps redneck stereotypes are just that, stereotypes. Maybe they don't all have 8 million assorted rusted hulks on their combined lawns. Maybe they do have all their teeth. Maybe they don't take their kids to sheep rodeos. So much for old notions falling by the wayside.
Am I the only person who thinks that this is absolutely re-god-damed-diculous? I had no idea that this kind of thing existed. I mean its just so...arcane. I will admit, though, this little activity does make for some quality photographs. The expressions of these kids are priceless.
There was one final piece about a man stuck in this kid's toy pickup truck (looked like a cozy coupe), unable to get out. First off, he got his kid a mini pickup truck, and second of all he got in his kids mini pickup truck. On top of this, the commentary was that he shouldn't have bought a foreign pickup truck, and if he had bought American he wouldn't have that problem. This show is rediculous.
Unfortunately, this was the last segment of Redneck Home Videos, so I didn't get to see any other entertaining stuff except for the host, sitting in this southern restaurant (I don't want to call it a diner, because those are unique to the northeast, specifically Long Island and New Jersey) yelling at the waitress for his check. I think I really like this show so much because you're not laughing with this guy, you're laughing at him.
And now...your moment of zen:
Monday, August 14, 2006
Besides having incredably overpriced drinks (try $15 for a cocktail) and being very hard to get into (don't even try to get in if you're a guy and have less than three girls in tow), the bar has incredable views and is a great little lounge type area--if you can afford it.
On top of that, the table orders a rather large number of mohitos. I must have had 7 or 8 myself. The place was alright, but as soon as the booze finished, Leah's not really guy (who was trashed) was becoming an ever increasing schmuck, so we left, and went across the street (I think) to the Gaslight--a rather much less uptight bar. I had a nice buzz going when we left the Gansevoort, but I was very much put together. Enter the shitshow.
If you know me, you know that one of my maxims is a might with Jager is a night that is not going to end quietly. With tequila, you wake up the next morning and say "What the hell did I do last night?" With Jagermeister, you wake up and think, "Why the hell did I do that last night?" Try it sometime, you'll see my wisdom.
We're inside the Gaslight taking shots of I don't even know what. Jager, SoCo & Lime, god knows what else. I had a couple beers too, just to top it off. This girl that came with us from the Gansevoort started dancing with me and I started dancing back. Well to be more specific, she started grinding up against my peen squad. Like a fucking idiot, and I assume it was the Jager talking, we made out on the dance floor for a while, until I realized that Cami and Leah were outside, and I was probably about to get abused by Cami. So without so much as a goodbye, I walked outside, where I just got the look of what the fuck were you doing. Conveniently I gave back the look of Wow, I'm really drunk.
Leah says shes leaving, and Cami and I catch a cab back uptown. I promptly passed out in the cab, got up, got into the elevator, passed out in the elevator, and managed to comment that we probably werent having sex that night, got back to the room, and passed out again. For the night.
The next morning I woke up to Camille actually being quite sick (not from drinking) but throwing up regardless, and with what was possbily the worst hangover of my life. I couldn't think it hurt so bad. And the first thing that came to my mind: What the hell was I thinking last night?
Overall, a very successful night indeed.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
But it's ok. Matty Wein stopped by randomly and we had lunch. That took my mind off the boredom, at least temporarily.
So I was doing my hours for today, and I was having a really hard time accounting for all of them. Then I realize thats because I spend so much time on facebook and reading the Times. Oh yeah, and I also wrote this.
Andy Chase came down (or up, depending) and hung out with me for a couple hours. We hung out, I showed him Ridgefield (he had never been to Connecticut before) and then we shot the shit for quite some time. Seeing friends from school is always something I really enjoy, because I get to see them outside of the confines of our natural environment--a particularly rediculous freshman dorm. So we hung out, caught up and what not, then unfortunately he had to depart, to continue the trek back home from his lake house in upstate New York.
This however did not put an end to my evening. Shortly thereafter I went out to my friends house, where what I understood to be a small get together quickly turned into a party. It was great, seeing all the people that I had not seen in quite some time, catching up, and most importantly, drinking. Its an interesting experience being out of the loop for so long (such as myself) and then jumping back into the party. After the initial hellos and whatnot, its like you never left. Honestly, everyone looked genuinely so happy to see me that I was truly touched.
Well enough of this brief foray into my emotions and onto bigger and better things. More to come.
An Aside: I was pretty drunk when I wrote this.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Each season of My Super Sweet 16 gets more extravagant, and the girls more bitchy. Is this because they want to top last seasons bunch of spoiled brats, or are they generally just girls that you really want to go up and smack in the face? Sometimes I think the former, because if I was the dad of one of these kids, i would clamp down hard on the mother fucker. And you notice how they always have the overprotective older brother (well, not always, only Italian families) who tries to be the biggest dousche bag possible. No, you can't dance with him, because he might impregnate you that way then I'ma have to crack him in the jaw. Oh what a delightful show.
What a perfect segue into my next point. The car. Every spoiled bitch on the show needs to get a car at her party, or--and I'm quoting directly from the show--"It will ruin my party". This segment is my favorite, because it shows that not only are these girls incredably spoiled, but they lack any sense of class whatsoever. (I'm personally a big fan of any word that is combined of three or more words, heretofor, insofar, but alas, I digress.) Every biggity bitch on the show wants--and gets--a brand new BMW, usually a 3 series but sometimes taking a foray into the X5. If your family actually made enough money to support your outlandish party, then you would know that a 3 series beamer is kind of a starter car, something people who can't afford a proper mortgage payment buy then think they're such hot shit that they're king of the road. You're not, but well get into you later.
Rich girl who can have any car she wants: Don't get a BMW. If you're that rich, get a Mercedes SL55 AMG, or an Audi S4, or I don't know...a livery driver. Have your dad get you a Maybach and then be like bitch, I'm not driving this a day in my life. Gonzales, get in the car and take me to get a boob-job. That will show all those other spoiled rich girls.
Talking about spoiled rich girls--and you can tell I get really into this by the length of this entry--I love when they don't get what they want and freak the fuck out. Keep in mind that the following situation was real, and in an episode. A girl, I can't remember her name, wanted a Circ de Soleil theme, and have people swinging from the roof. This was in a hotel banquet hall. The hotel manager, who was taking them around stated that they couldn't have people hanging from the ceiling, because it couldn't support it, and there was the possibility that if they did that, then the entire ceiling would come down. This girl started balling, ran away, and says to the camera "I don't know why the hotel won't just let me have people in trapeses at my party". Are you fucking serious? Because the roof would cave in.
Or my other personal favorite, this girl's mom tells her that she can't stay out at her friend's house in the valley, but she goes anyway. Mom retaliates by canceling the girl's credit card--the one that her parents pay for. Girl freaks out and calls Dad saying that she has no way to continue shopping and that she's defenseless and pennyless. Hmmm, you essentially run away, and all that happens is that your mom cancels your credit card. That you don't even pay for. Shut the fuck up, and try working at minimum wage for like 15 minutes before you freak out and commit suicide.
This show is just so fun to look at and laugh.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Today, the Ridgefield Fire Department got their first chance to use their brand new Ladder Truck. Originally purchased in the 1980's, the truck has laid dormant, waiting for the four-alarm fire, or stranded child in room that it was intended for.
The fiasco today in front of town hall was none of those, as a cat was stuck in a tree. Main Street had to be shut down for upwards of two hours during the evening rush hour commute, as the Firefighters first had to figure out how to use to ladder system on the truck, then get up the guts to actually go up and retrieve the car.
Of the seven man crew, six played 21st finger to see who had to make the trek up the ladder. The seventh disqualified himself on the grounds of a heart condition.
Fire commisioner Gordon exclaimed the dauting 31-foot cat rescue "a stunning success" and hoped "it wouldn't be another 25 years until this piece of equiptment was able to be used again."
Mischa Lewis, the cat's owner, was mortified that her cat, Skippy, was stuck up there so long. "I was just taking Skippy for a stroll down Main Street, when she darted away and scaled the tree," she exclamed. When asked what she was doing walking her cat, Ms. Lewis quickly fled the scene. The tree's spokesman declined to comment on the matter.
When asked if the Fire Department should have just waited until after rush hour to retrieve the cat, Mark Waltham, a 37 year old South Salem, NY resident believed that they should have just shot the cat, and let traffic continue. Many others agreed.
This marks the sixth time that Skippy has been stuck in a tree, according to Ms. Lewis. The first four, an ordinary ladder was able to be used to retrieve her, and on the fifth encounter, a local neighbor simply shook the tree branch until Skippy fell out. "Maybe she just doesn't like being close to me," Ms. Lewis exclaimed about Skippy's frequent climbing attempts. We can't blame the cat.
Monday, July 10, 2006
For example, all the American brands in the Daimler-Chrysler family have been showing off their new and improved features due to German Engineering. Ford has a commercial out now about how safe their cars are because of Volvo, the safest car in the world. And GM, oh GM, you would love to point out that you hold several European brands too, but you've turned them into piece of shit American cars already, haven't you.
Don't you find it a little odd that you don't see a Volvo commercial emphasizing their new roll-over reduced Bridgestone tires thanks to their 'parnership' (read:ownership) with Ford? Or how great Mercedes new generation of automobiles are now that they can draw from the Town & Country minivan?
I guess the point is, hey big 3, stop leeching on your European subsidaries, maybe if you started building good cars, you wouldn't need to.
[End of Rant]
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Off to bed. Just got back from Florida and I'm exhausted and hate working. The good news is that this week is only 3 days. Is it Friday yet?
Friday, June 30, 2006
Now most of the ad does make good sense. The Connecticut DOT wants you being safe, and wants you to pay attention in work zones. Personally, I think the "Let them work, let them live" campaign was much better, but thats me.
The thing that irks me about this particular advert is the secondary phrase--the one that reads "It could be your rear end". This makes absolutely no sense. If you and aren't looking where you're going , and the car behind you is going real slow, wouldn't it be the front car's rear end?
The only possible way it could be your rear end if you 'zone out' while driving is if you stop short, and the person behind you doesnt notice and they plow in to you. Perhaps the billboard should read: "Make sure the person behind you is awake and alert, or it could be your rear end". That much more catchy than the original.
I'm ready for this week to be over.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
I have found that the type that does this generally will never go to Europe, and that they're social climbers, because Europe is supposed to be higher class than us. Which is understandable because when one thinks of Europe, one conjures images of tea parties and other extravagent affairs. America...pick-up trucks and fried chicken. I was driving to work today and I saw a yellow Hummer H2 with a European style plate in front.
Oh the ironies of this, I thought to myself. If someone on that side of the pond could afford the gas for that thing--when I was in England it was about 90p per liter or $9 a gallon. So I'm a rich bloke living in jolly old England, and the way I choose to show off my money is to drive a big graceless H2. I think I'll just stick with a nice Astin Martin or something. And the middle class can't afford it because they don't have the cash to pay $9 for every 11 miles they drive. No, you will find no Hummers in Europe.
This car in the garage where I park at work has one of those fake European plates on the front. Its a new Audi A6. And you know what, thats ok. Because they drive Audis over there. And those Audis dont have American plates. So I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt.
So the point of this post is: hey retarded H2 driver, take that fake foreign plate off your car. Actually keep the plate and get a new car. The H2 is a complete disaster, and for all its huge giganticness, it can still only hold 5 people.
Great, I just wrote this entire thing about something completely irrelevant. Stay tuned next week for why I get such a kick out of MTV's My Super Sweet 16.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
My mom is a huge gossip. Its not entirely like we didn't see this coming. Long Island Jew, im pretty sure she was a big deal growing up. She was bantering with her friends about this minor thing that anybody who was a guy would have dismissed just like that, and it blew up into a gigantic deal. I got a really big kick out of it, being the jerk I am.
People are always talking about the spice of life. Whatever it is, I don't have it right now. Continuing on with this food analogy, my life is about on par with Boston Chicken chicken. Delish. I go to work, where I do extremely challenging (sarcasm) bullshit work--I guess being the intern, thats my role. I go home, so exhausted from doing this menial shit work that I don't even go out and see my friends. I know I have them, friends that is, I just havent seen them in a while.
I'm really impressed with the new Volkswagen commercial for the Rabbit. Well executed.
On a similar thought line to Dennis Leary, I just watched a new Vin Diesel commercial. He has hair in it, and on a scale of one to looking like a goofy motherfucker, he completely looks like a goofy motherfucker.
All for now.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
I drove to work today competely on auto-pilot. I realized this about 10 minutes in, when I noticed that instead of going to work (in Stamford), my car was about to get on 116 (to the high school). Oops. I guess that's sign #272.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Last night, I went to a gentleman's club theme party. The guys wear oxford shirt, tie, jacket, etc. to look like they just got off from their white collar job (perhaps a bit descheveled), and the girls dress like sluts. It was a lot of fun.
I'm watching the History Channel right now, and the show just changed from something about mega disasters to something else about hell and satan. I didn't even know that the show changed for a second because it had the same announcer with the exact same inflections and tone of voice. I wonder if this guy does all the shows on the History Channel. This hell show is pretty fucked up. Especially because the narrator just said "Death...the great equalizer." Yay Jews for not having hell.
So, I have to take the train to work tomorrow, not entirely pleased about that. Well, I guess I had it coming.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
I was also trying to find magazines for a distribution media list, and I came across these two publications. This is the actual description that is given for each magazine:
“The Nye Lubeletter" (monthly newsletter)
Launched in 1972. Private newsletter published by Nye Lubricants and dedicated exclusively to synthetic lubricants. Application focused, it contains articles that show how synthetic lubricants are being used in a broad range of industries, such as corporate, automotive, corrugator, and gear. Is perhaps the oldest, continuously published, private newsletter dedicated exclusively to synthetic lubricants. Nye gets involved by making lubrication news, writing technical articles for trade magazines, offering seminars and technical conferences, and attending trade shows and other events sponsored by those in the industry.
“Studio PMC" (precious Metal Clay guild) (quartly magazine)
A publication devoted entirely to silver clay. Includes a gallery of work, interesting stories, responses to issues in the field and answers to technical questions
“The Improper Bostonian” (monthly magazine)
Written for the active and affluent individuals who live and work in and around Boston. Offers information on the lifestyles, arts and entertainment news in the Boston area. Provides event, restaurant, nightlife, shopping and city activity information.
These are legitimate publications that thousands of people subscribe to. It warms my heart to think that people read such nonsensical drivel. Kinda makes you wonder what else they read...
Talking about work, I've been working with excel files a lot recently, so much so that I had a dream about them the other night. As a matter of fact I dreamed that I was trapped in one. Right afterwards, I had a dream that I was trying to take a picture of a butterfly that was flying in my house, and every Iime i tried to take a picture of it, the butterfly grew larger. Your move Freud.
It rained like a banshee tonight. That was rather unfun. More tomorrow, though no promises on how coherent it will be.
You stay classy, San Diego.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Since I came back from school, I've been having this general notion that either I've changed or somehow Ridgefield has. One of my friends put it best when she said that you just have to come to terms with the fact that after you leave the room, people are going to talk shit about you. By the time I finished writing this, I already got over it.
I really want to have a cocktail party somewhere. And it would be really classy, you wouldn't be let in unless you were wearing a full suit or a cocktail or dress. Classy drinks would be served like martinis, ______ and tonic, high balls, et al. The whole thing would be a very high brow affair, and I personally think it would be an excellent endeavor to pursue.
More to come.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
I really enjoy the new Cingular commercials that state "we have less dropped calls than anyone else". You really have to respect a company that steps to the front of the pack and says "We suck less then the other guy". It's definately an innovative marketing approach.