Hilarious

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If this doesn`t make you laugh because it is just so plainly stupid and simple than we probably wouldn`t get along.

www.fivebats.com

HUH?

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So let me get this straight: A group of anarchists banded together to vote against Bush yesterday.

Anarchists. Banding together. And voting.

Anyone else find this hilarious?

Teen Wolf

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So, Teen Wolf was on One of HBO`s 47 channels last night. I had just gotten out of the shower when I saw it was on. What did I do? Sit balls naked and watch the last 45 minutes as if it was the greatest movie ever. I couldn`t tear myself away. I hadn`t seen it in years and totally was enjoying it.

Two funny tidbits:
1. IMDB lists Mick (the bad jock) as being played by Mike Piazza. Yep, the NY Met. Ummm....no! Wrong. Can`t believe that rumor which started somewhere has found its way to IMDB
2. Already pointed out by the sports guy, Bill Simmons, on ESPN but still worth mentioning. Right before the slow motion ending, they flash to a crowd scene...there is a guy/girl behind Michael J. Fox (who has to rival Webster in height deficiency) with his/her fly WIDE FREAKING OPEN. Cheering away unabashedly with a good chance that a schlong or FUPA is going to pop out. (The gender is neutral because they don`t show the face). Finally, someone must have told him/her that the barn door was open as the tranny finally tucks in the shirt, zips up the pants, and goes right back to cheering.

Freaking worth the price of a rental or if you have HBO, TiVo it. So funny. Trying so hard not to laugh. And after my Office Snafu yesterday I don`t want to test the fates, so I will end this here.

Oh yeah, Boof is hot.

A Short Story by me

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Linoleum

She wiped the drop of blood away from her nose with the back of one hand. With her other, she neatly stacked the buttered toast on a plate. The eggs were almost done. As she fiddled with the frying pan, the puffiness of her eye made it difficult to see which spice she was adding to her concoction. In any case, they would taste extra special this morning.

Damn, that metallic taste must be blood in my mouth too, she thought. She ran her tongue along the top of her teeth. The fatty smell of the finished bacon filled her nostrils. Well, at least her one functioning nostril.

She made a mental checklist: plate, silverware, glass, milk. Flip the eggs one more time and the most perfect breakfast of all time would be complete.

There! She slid the scrambled eggs onto the plate where the toast had been waiting for its yellow neighbor. She pulled out the chair to the table and sat down. It squeaked on the floor. The shower was still running in the background. Or was that the ringing in her ears?

The white frothy milk threatened to overflow the pink-tinted glass as she absentmindedly poured it in. Perhaps her hand hurt, perhaps she just wanted a full glass. Either way, probably using the other hand to drop bullets in the Magnum didn’t help.

The shower stopped. She closed the milk and set it down. She never thought it would come to this. The knob on the bathroom door turned. Looking up, she had just enough time to see the silhouette in the bathroom door before she took aim and squeezed off all six.

Placing the gun down, she picked up her fork. As the eggs slid into her mouth, she figured she should probably call someone.

Ninja

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I want a Ninja.

Read that again. I do not want to *become* a Ninja. That, while in itself would be awesome if I could just take a pill and become one, is not what I am talking about. First of all, while I like challenges I am not up for years of isolated training in some temple in Japan in the wilderness; only eating rice; doing backbreaking labor for some shrunken old man who I know could rip out my own spine and show it to me as I was falling to the ground:

Ninja Master: “Ha, ha. Dat’s yours!”
ME: What the…*thud*

No, in spite of cool forearm scars from carrying boiling hot cauldrons and skills that would be the envy of all, I would rather have a Ninja than become one. Not have like a slave was owned by a cracker in the south. But perhaps a life debt was owed to me by him because I saved his sister from rape or I pulled him from a swirling pool when he was only 5 and ever since not drowning he has spent the rest of his life doing the aforementioned training and once completing it tracked me down to declare that he is on my servitude forever.

Don’t get me wrong, I would treat my Ninja with the utmost respect. Besides the fact that I am a decent human being and I know that once he has sworn a life debt to me he must serve me in every way, I would rather not have a disgruntled ninja in my keep. I want him very gruntled actually. Sure there will be cultural differences and we will never like the same shows on TV. But while I am watching Scrubs, Ryu would be off with his shuriken practicing unbelievable moves on all the flour-filled dummies we would have in our training room. (Um, of course there would be a training room…he’s a Ninja!) So hanging out would never be an uncomfortable thing.

Why do I want a Ninja? I think it is obvious and every man reading this post is already envisioning the possibilities that would be endless if you had a Ninja at your disposal. And I am not even talking (yet) about the nefarious things you could get away with if a Ninja was in your keep. In fact, to appease the gods and possibly make my dream come true, (I did one time take a very drunken Asian friend home from a party who could have easily been taken advantage of…who knows, she might have a brother, and that brother might be looking for me right now…If he is, this is for him: “Hey, Isaki! I am in Arlington. Just reply to this anonymous post and we will hook up. Grab a little saki. You can explain to me the details of your life debt. You know, whatever.” …but I digress.), I will stick to all the non illegal ways I would use my Ninja. Well, slightly illegal but not bank robbing etc.

How will he make my life better? Let me just list a few ways:

Metro: No more waiting in lines. Everyone will be watching the black pajama-ed man with only his eyes showing, and what are obviously various weapons of death on his back or in his hands or what have you, and no one will be paying any attention to me as I slide right through. If anyone breaks any of the common courtesy laws of public transportation, the katana will become unsheathed and said offender will be sliced in half.
• Walking on the left on the escalator? *Swoosh* Two halves of Tourist Joe lie on the stairs that I will now step over.
• Trying to get on before I get off Pushy Native Metro User? *Slash* Now, consider that a warning to everyone else.

Clubs/bars: Now I can go dancing without having to be elbowed by Frat boy Jack as he a). tries to simply stand on the motherf’in dance floor while the rest of us dance
b). tries to grind his crotchticular region into the poor girl in front of him who is just trying to bust a move to Robin Thicke’s “When I Get you Alone” (sing along:

Well does she want me to carry her home now?
So does she want me to buy her things?
On my house, on my job
On my loot, shoes, my shirt,
My crew, my mind, my father`s last name? )

Said offender will have a garrote wrapped around his neck so quickly and drug into the darkest corner to be gutted so quickly that even if the bouncer was paying attention instead of marveling at how huge his arms are/wondering how he will wipe his own ass tonight, he wouldn’t even know what had happened.

Library: Can’t reach that book? Wire with mouthyhook thing will shoot out of his sleeve/arm/wrist and grab that top shelf book and bring it to you Mortal Kombat style (“GET OVER HEEERE!). By the way, you (reader), SO just said that out loud.

The possibilities are endless but I know your attention span is dwindling. Let’s just say that there is nothing, NOTHING, which having a ninja (like a midget friend) around wouldn’t make better.

So pardon me as I need to hit Chinatown (Does DC have a Chinatown?) and look to see if there are any drowning children (it sure did rain last night!) or perhaps a bullied girl whose honor I can save and therefore get my own Ninja.

I stole this. But it`s funny. So that`s ok.

Posted

I know the subject of men responding to online personal ads has been covered from every angle imaginable since Al Gore miraculously created the magical network that is the Internet while landing on the Moon and shagging Britney Spears, but here`s my $.02 anyway.

Girls. You post an ad online; you receive 300 responses in two minutes (four times that many if you include a picture of your boob). 290 of the 300 are from idiots, perverts, or idiotic perverts sending you pics of some other guy`s dick. The other 10 are probably perfectly decent, normal guys. But what about the 290?

Well, the other 290 are a product of the dynamic, volatile mixture of biology, technology and timing. Ladies, imagine the horniest you`ve ever been. I mean, can`t think straight, head is going to explode, must get off now in order to continue with the rest of your day, willing to rub against anything that won`t press charges, horny. This is how the average guy feels roughly 8 hours a day. It would be more, but generally we don`t feel the urge when we`re eating. Food has its own unique pleasures to offer. (This is why it`s poor manners to talk to us about anything half-way important while we`re eating. Asking me about "us" or about my job when I have a Big Mac and Super Sized Fries in front of me is like me asking you about your sister right before you have an orgasm.)

Don`t bash us guys for our sex drive. You owe your very existence to it. If men had the sexual appetite of most women, the human species would be nothing more than a faded spec of dust on Mother Nature`s ass. But we`ve learned to be good about it. These days we have to deal with pesky things like civilization, laws and social acceptance. So we men suppress our biological urges for the wellbeing of society. We`re good little monkeys. Until we get online and realize we`re totally fucking anonymous. "...and it was as an ordinary secret sinner that I at last fell before the assaults of temptation." We become anonymous animals.

When you post an ad online, you get the worst of us, at our absolute worst. Imagine the skankiest, most nympho slut you know. Then imagine that she can`t get laid on a Saturday night to save her life, and you have yourself the average 20-50 year old modern male. That`s a lot of pent-up angst and dangerously low self-image issues that need venting.

And then there it is. This magic box that holds promises of sex. All you have to do is type a couple of nice, non-threatening words, attach a jpg image and click "send." You don`t even need both hands to do it. The female Online Personal is deceptively simple and it pulls a lot of us gullible males into its web, no pun intended.

It`s a simple supply and demand issue. Women offer up a very small quantity of a highly demanded product. If I could provide a graph here, I would. In a fictional example, as the amount of "sex with girls" on the market increases to meet the high demand, the value of said "sex with girls" drops. As more "sex with girls" hits the marketplace, 300 emails in 2 minutes suddenly becomes 200 emails in 10 minutes. Then 50. Then one. One being the number of female responses I received for each of the two m4w posts I`ve made in the "strictly platonic" section of Craig`s List. One product offered, one buyer found, and the market has reached equilibrium...

So, where was I? I think that economics stuff threw me off a little. Suddenly I can`t think straight. I don`t know what`s gotten finto fme. figfray fippleflay. I`m having trouble typing. I feel like my head is going to explode! Did my office manager just wink at me? I think she did. No, she has something in her eye. And now my cell phone is vibrating in my pocket. Mmmmmmmm....

Been a long time

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...Been a long time, been a long lonely, lonely lonely time.

Very much in flux rigt now in my life (getting an ew car, looking for a new job and apartment) so I apologize for the lack of journal writing.

But I do want to take this space to thank Koreena for dutifully checking back in every once in a while.

When things get settled I will be right back here writing.

VH1--- I am your bitch.

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I am not sure of the exact date when it happened. But it is undeniable. I am VH1`s bitch.

If I am not guffawing over The Best Week Ever and I am sitting there for hours watching 100 Most Outrageous Celebrity Momments. And I can`t even stand Andy Dick! That is they type of power that my new Mistress, VH1 has over me. She lords it too. She will show parts of the 100MOCM that I have already seen...but I will not be able to pull myself away. Friends and faimly have gone in the gutter. What could they possibly add to my life that those funny mofo`s on Best Week Ever haven`t done already and done better? Nothing, I submit to you. Nothing.

It doesn`t help that Rachael Harris is just about the cutest freaking thing with glasses since Tina Fey (who is highly overated in beauty compared to this blonde bombshell). OR that Jessi Klein seems like that hot, quirky girl you JUST might be able to get to go out with you. And they are both freakin` hilarious.

Throw in all of the rest of the group and everyone`s brillance has sucked even more of my own life out of me. I have to watch them. I need to watch them. And when the voice over right before a segment for The Passion of the Christ screams "Jesus Christ!" and I am thrown to the floor with fits of uncontrollable laughter, I actually weep inside because I know a little of my own decision-making ability has been taken away by VH1. I have completely becomes its bitch. I scour times looking for reruns. I tell friends about the shows to suuk them into the vortex in which I am currently swirling. I run to the net to look up more info about the Best Week Ever even though I know I already know everything because of the likes of many, including Chuck Nice (Describing the effects of the energy drink Crunk, C.N. quoth " This makes me want to dance....frrroooooommmmmmm the WINDOW.... TO THE WALL!).

I am hoping desperately that the over saturation point will come soon. When I Love the 80`s and I Love the 80`s strikes back, and too much dry humor from Mo Rocca and Michael Ian Black will be just too much in general. When their smarmyness and hilarity will just be become arrogant and annoying. But I don`t see it happening. Every time I feel I am breaking VH1`s grasp on me another great show comes around.

Case in point: Can`t stand Justin Timberlake. Nothing really against the guy as I don`t know him, but I really don`t care about him. But God damn I will watch his Fabulous Life for an hour. You know I like to hear that he spends more on a weekend hotel room than I make in a year.

This is self-flaggellation. Why must I watch the Fabulous Life, Best Week, 100 MOCM? I am not sure. Luckily I can pull away from some but it is indeed Best Week Ever that has its hold on me the most. But then I think. Does it matter what show I can pull away from and what show makes me pee my pants in glee that another Friday has come? shouldn`t i be happy the weekend is here and not that I get to watch another Best Week Ever? I should, I know I should. But then it hits me that no matter what the show, VH1 has completely and utterly made me its bitch.

I have accepted it.

To all you carb counting idiots

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NEW YORK (Reuters) - Most U.S. consumers who say they are following low-carb diets are actually eating more carbohydrates than such diets recommend, a new survey found.


According to a study of 11,000 people released by market research firm NPD Group Monday, only one out of every four low-carb dieters "are actually significantly cutting carbs."


At any given time, about 10 million Americans are following low-carb diets such as the Atkins and South Beach, the report said.


But adults who are reducing their carb intakes are still eating about 128 grams of refined carbohydrates a day, the study found. That compares with the estimated 20 to 50 grams of carbs per day recommended by some low-carb diets. Refined carbohydrates are total carbs minus dietary fiber.


"Low-carb diets are a fad," Harry Balzer, vice president of NPD, said in a statement. "People still want to lose weight by eating, but getting people to change their behavior is very difficult to do."

Query

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Is Shaquille O`Neal Irish?