ENGAGED!!!!!

Yes, I'm engaged to the love of my life :)

You know what they say about pictures...


(He proposed at the top of a snowy mountain! Top that!)

What Bagel Are You?

My musical theater teacher in high school once said "it's important to know what kind of bagel you are. You have to play to your strengths."



Of course, he was talking about acting roles -- not trying to be the leading lady if you're the best friend, or the angel if you're the vixen -- but lately I've been thinking about the bagel philosophy. And if it goes beyond roles. How many of us know what kind of bagel we are? How many really care?

I'm sure we'd all like to say we can be anything we want. We can be the vixen, the sweetheart, the sidekick, the star... right? I'm not saying people aren't complicated and multi-faceted, but I think sometimes we spend too much time crafting who we want to be at any given moment, and not enough time just being whoever it is we were made to be. If you're the girl-next-door, well, own it. If you're a total geek, own it. Whatever it is, just own it. Stop trying so hard.

I hate to simplify things because I strongly believe this world is many shades of grey, but what if we all stopped worrying so much about appearances and perceptions and stigmas? What if we could just recognize what we are -- whatever that may be -- and work with it? What if I could stop spouting cliches? That would be pretty cool, huh?

So, cheesy question -- what kind of bagel are you?

Palin is the Antichrist

You would think she is running for president, with all the media circus that erupted since her vice presidential nomination. Maybe it's driven by the (frightening) thought that "President Palin" is a legitimate possibility, due to McCain's age. Are you scared? You should be.

Now I don't generally endorse fear tactics in politics, since it tends to yield a pathetic and narrow-minded result. But I endorse common sense. And my common sense dictates that the McCain/Palin ticket is the stuff of nightmares.

The only difference between Sarah Palin and an 18th century man is a vagina.

Now, there are some feminists out there who support Palin because she is a woman who has infiltrated the "boy's club" and garnered herself some serious power. Are you serious? I'm not sure which is worse, a single-issue voter or a single-gender voter. I wonder, do those same so-called "feminists" think that a 13 year old girl who was raped should be forced to have that baby? Do those "feminists" think that the right to choose only should apply when you choose life?

Granted, the choice of Sarah Palin as VP is a work of evil genius. The amount of attention dedicated to her has totally revived McCain's otherwise somewhat lackluster campaign. Although some people are fascinated by her in an amusing sort of way, a frightening number seems to actually buy into all her - for lack of a more appropriate term - bullshit.

After eight years of Bush, I thought we as a country were as low as we could get. I may have thought wrong. It's like the American people asked God, "Can we as a country be a bigger joke?" Apparently the answer was "yes."

Some people love to laugh at her utter ridiculousness. Some people love her. And for what reason? It's beyond me, really.

She's. A. Fucking. Joke.

A funny joke, for a while, until you realize people take her seriously. Why not? Why not elect a vp with basically no foreign relation experience to repair our severly damaged world reputation? Why not get someone who doesn't believe in global warming and wants to drill in Alaska to lead us into a "greener" age. Fuck the polar bears! My state isn't melting! Why not give someone with a pregnant teenage daughter the power to destroy sex-ed in schools? Obviously all the money she poured into the abstinence-only programs worked wonders! Why not elect someone who ran her state into significant debt to fix the crumbling economy? Why not ease up on gun laws? There are only a few school shootings a week -- that's pretty good, right? Why not give someone who is interested in banning books the vice presidency of the United States? Our illiteracy rate isn't total shit!

Why not, you ask? Because the McCain/Palin ticket is the Bridge to Abso-fucking-lutely nowhere.

Update - THE WORLD HASN'T ENDED!

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/article1668971.ece

Science... MONDAY!

Hey everyone,

For anyone else who is the least bit curious about the universe (yes, the universe -- if you're not curious, you should be!) here is a brief update on the super-collider-thingamajiggy that's either going help us figure out the big bang and dark matter, or blow us all to oblivion. Okay, maybe "oblivion" is a little fatalistic...



http://www.cnn.com/2008/TECH/09/08/lhc.collider/index.html

Word Nerd

I have an ongoing fascination with the story of the Donner Party. Just recently, Jesse and I watched the Ric Burns documentary about the doomed travelers, and I noticed something. A word. A word that was used A LOT in the documentary that you don't hear every day anymore.

"Perish."

I think "Perish" is a great word. Derivatives of "Perish" are good too. It's so dramatic and a little old-fashioned sounding. I have thus determined to bring "Perish" to our modern lingo in a viral way. And hell, who needs to stick to conventional linguistic definitions? The word is too good not to use for just about anything.

"Dude, what the hell happened at Mike's party last night?"
"I don't know man, I was fucking perished!"

"Um, Mitch, what happened to the last frozen pizza?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought it was mine. I perished it."

"God, I'm so exhausted tonight."
"I know, I just kinda want to perish in front of the TV for a while."

"What happened to the Donners?"
"Um, they perished."

So go ahead, spread it. Spread it in the tender, viral way that a whore spreads her legs. Now go forth, and perish... in a good way... sorta...

Holy Awesome Crap

If you value love, peace, and laughter, I have a link for you. If you are one of those people who lists "love" "peace" and "laughter" as interests on your facebook page, you are a moron. Stop being a moron.

If you also value raunchiness it's even better.

http://www.punchrobert.com/#vids

Go to Carnival Performances to start with. Then I recommend Dancer Face. After that, work your way through at your own delicious leisure...

DING DING DING DA DING DING DA DING DING

Oh Nepotism!

I just wanted to spread the love (and the nuttiness) of this other blogger who goes by "Patricia" on occasion....

http://fourteen20.blogspot.com/

Uh... WTF?

It is a crazy crazy litigious world we live in. I saw this little news piece while browsing The Week (news digest, yum!)


A New York man who disappeared after being indicted for having sex with minors is suing American Express for alerting police to his whereabouts. James Colliton, 44, says the company violated his privacy by telling authorities that his credit card had been used in Ontario, Canada, where he was arrested. Colliton later pleaded guilty to raping two underage girls, but is seeking $4 million in damages from American Express. “When people stop violating my rights,” he said, “that’s when I will stop filing lawsuits.”

Ummmmmmm, seriously?
"When people stop violating my rights..."
How about when you stop violating underage girls, the cops will stop chasing you..... or when you stop putting your junk in unwanted places.... how about that? How about don't be a perv? Hm? Can we try that?

This country is so lawsuit crazy to begin with it is kind of sickening. Someone told me recently that the leftover food from the buffets in Vegas that go to the trash are doused with bleach. Why? Because apparently if someone eats some of that food out of the trash, and gets sick, the hotel can actually get sued. Another WTF! If you're eating out of the trash in the first place, what do you really expect? All that food..... so tragic....

Some Good Listening...

To diffuse the bomb I dropped last post, here's a little easy-in-a-kickass-ninja-way listening to tame the beast, calm the nerves, and maybe inspire some comfort in this wild world where sagging pants are outlawed (wassap Flint, MI) and batty old codgers leave millions in inheritance to their pooches (Leona Helmsley, you are crazy bitch.)

MUSIC "IN MY WORLD" NEWS

I'd like to present to you, my friend, the very talented (and well-groomed):

JONATHAN DENMARK

Thank You For Being A Friend from Jonathan Denmark on Vimeo.

Jon is great with an acoustic guitar (for those looking for some beauty in the world) and a burgeoning master of experimental rap (for those looking for some organized chaos)

He is pretty much responsible for one of the best things to ever happen to me, AND, he once said (based on a scientific study of the perception of joy and acceptance in a person's life,) "in about three months, you are going to be happy. DEAL WITH IT."

His website is www.jonathandenmark.com

And to check him out further, he's going to be playing at the Universal Bar and Grill on Sunday the 27th at 8pm. A bunch of really awesome people will be there, so, uh, you should too....

IN OTHER "MUSIC IN MY WORLD" NEWS

I have just discovered Liam Finn. And he is fantastic. He recently toured with Jon Brion and has a unique sound and kickass talent. And he will be lightning. And so will you.

http://www.liamfinn.tv/

Seriously. Check it out.

PEACE!

H-BOMB!

Hi.

I understand that in this post I will most likely incur the insufferable wrath of film students, indie enthusiasts, and Wes Anderson fans worldwide.  To be honest, the latter scares me the most.  (They're everywhere!!!)  But I feel that I must state the truth, as I know it, or I am not being true.... to, uh..... myself......

I. Think. Rushmore. Is Overrated.

THERE!  I said it.  Yes.  I think Rushmore is overrated.  I have seen it several times, at several points in my life.  And while I do believe it is good, I believe the movie Rocket Science is better.  More emotionally thorough.  More realistic.  More identifiable.  More universal.  

Rocket. Science. Is. Better.

(In my opinion.....)

So go ahead, have at me, Wes Anderson Wannabes and Indie Film Champions, and all those who (for a reason kind of unknown to me) hail Rushmore as a "Great" movie -- I no longer fear your wrath.  I just want you to start getting used to the idea that not everyone LOVES Rushmore.  It is "good."  It is not "great."

Ok.  I said it.  Now get over it.  And rent Rocket Science.  And don't kill me.  I own knives.....

Surviving the Apocalypse...

We've all seen them.  The tidal waves.  The volcanos.  The asteroids.  Yes, I'm talking about the disaster movies.  There's something perversely fascinating about watching New York leveled in a 400 foot tidal wave (Deep Impact) or Los Angeles smothered in volcanic goo (Volcano, duh..) 

But the best part about a disaster movie is the lesson we take away from it. And no, I'm not talking about reconciliation and accepting your fate.  Fuck that.  I want to LIVE!  And after watching each of these movies enough times, I finally know how.

KEYS TO SURVIVAL:

1. Have a bike.  Not a bicycle -- a serious motorbike that can handle rough terrain, steep hills, and outrun a speeding tsunami.

2.  Have a kid.  Or a dog.  Or a spouse you took for granted for years and still need to reconcile with.  Just something to live for.  This one is a bit of a gamble, because sometimes the tear-jerk factor for such a character is too high to resist killing them off, but you generally have a better chance if the universe (or audience) looks at you in a favorable light.  

3.  Have an extensive knowledge of something esoteric.  If you are an expert in a rare form of botany or string theory, you are not only likely to make it (for what exact reason, I'm not exactly sure,) but you will also be looked upon as a commodity.  

4.  DON'T follow the crowds.  In the event of an asteroid, or alien invasion, think outside the box.

5.  Don't be a dick.  Assholes get their due.  Generally it involves trying to climb over a pregnant woman for a ride in the last helicopter out of town, which inevitably crashes.  So just keep that in mind.

6.  That said, don't be a pussy.  Someone who sits and cries when thing gets tough is more likely to get killed just because.  No one likes a whiner.

Just take these lessons to heart and you are sure to survive the next apocalyptic event.  Minus Zombies.  Those fuckers are different case entirely...

Things You Don't Hear Every Day...

"She had the calves of a crazy person..."

"If you were the guy, who just did what you did, what would you say to yourself?"

"I'll sic my pet scabies on her..."

"It's the worst thing in a book if someone feels a lump. What happened to good ol' consumption?"

"You gotta get on the straight 'n narrow, Chewy knows the way..."

Unacceptable....

I know there's a ridiculous laundry list of injustices in this world, but right alongside of headlines about "honor killings," this makes my blood boil. Where's the outrage?

http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/africa/06/19/darfur.rape/index.html

IndoYOU!

So I've been slacking lately on the whole blog thing. My bad. Change is afoot -- I'm moving on from my current job to be a writer's assistant at an awesome company. Very excited.

ANYWAY

For my first posting after a brief hiatus, I decided to write about something I think about, dream about, and care about a lot. Food. I bring to you, the hungry masses, INDOMIE!!!!

We've all had ramen. Or cup'o'noodles. Or some variation thereof. It's not exactly bad for you, but some college students actually got scurvy for eating nothing but. It taste's okay, if you like shredded cardboard soaked in corn oil. Or if you spent your parent's "care-package" money on six-packs instead of six-grain bread. My point is, if you're tummy is gonna slum it, you may want to slum it with some taste. That's where Indomie comes in.

For those of you who don't know, I grew up mostly in Sri Lanka and Indonesia. In Sri Lanka I discovered egg hoppers. In Indonesia I discovered Indomie.

Indomie is basically just Indonesian ramen: dry noodles, flavoring, picture of questionable-looking food on the packet. But for some reason, Indomie is fantastic. It has more flavor. Better flavor. Do yourself a favor, and don't take my word for it. I'm just a humble believer.

You want real great food? Go to a restaurant. You want real good food for 65 cents? Have some Indomie. Preferably with a fried egg mixed in. Seriously, it's delicious. You want scurvy? Well, you know what to do.

SCIENCE FRIDAY!

The New York Times:

Monkeys Think, Moving Artificial Arm as Own

By BENEDICT CAREY
Published: May 29, 2008

Two monkeys with tiny sensors in their brains have learned to control a mechanical arm with just their thoughts, using it to reach for and grab food and even to adjust for the size and stickiness of morsels when necessary, scientists reported on Wednesday.

"The reality of this is so remarkable. The potential impact, in terms of quality of life for amputees and patients with spinal cord damage, is awesome."Ron, Chicago

The report, released online by the journal Nature, is the most striking demonstration to date of brain-machine interface technology. Scientists expect that technology will eventually allow people with spinal cord injuries and other paralyzing conditions to gain more control over their lives.

The findings suggest that brain-controlled prosthetics, while not practical, are at least technically within reach.

In previous studies, researchers showed that humans who had been paralyzed for years could learn to control a cursor on a computer screen with their brain waves and that nonhuman primates could use their thoughts to move a mechanical arm, a robotic hand or a robot on a treadmill.

The new experiment goes a step further. In it, the monkeys’ brains seem to have adopted the mechanical appendage as their own, refining its movement as it interacted with real objects in real time. The monkeys had their own arms gently restrained while they learned to use the added one.

Experts not involved with the study said the findings were likely to accelerate interest in human testing, especially given the need to treat head and spinal injuries in veterans returning from Iraq and Afghanistan.

“This study really pulls together all the pieces from earlier work and provides a clear demonstration of what’s possible,” said Dr. William Heetderks , director of the extramural science program at the National Institute of Biomedical Imaging and Bioengineering. Dr. John P. Donoghue, director of the Institute of Brain Science at Brown University, said the new report was “important because it’s the most comprehensive study showing how an animal interacts with complex objects, using only brain activity.”

The researchers, from the University of Pittsburgh and Carnegie Mellon University, used monkeys partly because of their anatomical similarities to humans and partly because they are quick learners.

In the experiment, two macaques first used a joystick to gain a feel for the arm, which had shoulder joints, an elbow and a grasping claw with two mechanical fingers.
Then, just beneath the monkeys’ skulls, the scientists implanted a grid about the size of a large freckle. It sat on the motor cortex, over a patch of cells known to signal arm and hand movements. The grid held 100 tiny electrodes, each connecting to a single neuron, its wires running out of the brain and to a computer.

The computer was programmed to analyze the collective firing of these 100 motor neurons, translate that sum into an electronic command and send it instantaneously to the arm, which was mounted flush with the left shoulder.

The scientists used the computer to help the monkeys move the arm at first, essentially teaching them with biofeedback.

After several days, the monkeys needed no help. They sat stationary in a chair, repeatedly manipulating the arm with their brain to reach out and grab grapes, marshmallows and other nuggets dangled in front of them. The snacks reached the mouths about two-thirds of the time — an impressive rate, compared with earlier work.

The monkeys learned to hold the grip open on approaching the food, close it just enough to hold the food and gradually loosen the grip when feeding.

On several occasions, a monkey kept its claw open on the way back, with the food stuck to one finger. At other times, a monkey moved the arm to lick the fingers clean or to push a bit of food into its mouth while ignoring a newly presented morsel.

The animals were apparently freelancing, discovering new uses for the arm, showing “displays of embodiment that would never be seen in a virtual environment,” the researchers wrote.
“In the real world, things don’t work as expected,” said the senior author of the paper, Dr. Andrew Schwartz, a professor of neurobiology at the University of Pittsburgh. “The marshmallow sticks to your hand or the food slips, and you can’t program a computer to anticipate all of that.

“But the monkeys’ brains adjusted. They were licking the marshmallow off the prosthetic gripper, pushing food into their mouth, as if it were their own hand.”

The co-authors were Meel Velliste, Sagi Perel, M. Chance Spalding and Andrew Whitford.
Scientists have to clear several hurdles before this technology becomes practical, experts said. Implantable electrode grids do not generally last more than a period of months, for reasons that remain unclear.

The equipment to read and transmit the signal can be cumbersome and in need of continual monitoring and recalibrating. And no one has yet demonstrated a workable wireless system that would eliminate the need for connections through the scalp.

Yet Dr. Schwartz’s team, Dr. Donoghue’s group and others are working on all of the problems, and the two macaques’ rapid learning curve in taking ownership of a foreign limb gives scientists confidence that the main obstacles are technical and, thus, negotiable.

In an editorial accompanying the Nature study, Dr. John F. Kalaska, a neuroscientist at the University of Montreal, argued that after such bugs had been worked out, scientists might even discover areas of the cortex that allow more intimate, subtle control of prosthetic devices.
Such systems, Dr. Kalaska wrote, “would allow patients with severe motor deficits to interact and communicate with the world not only by the moment-to-moment control of the motion of robotic devices, but also in a more natural and intuitive manner that reflects their overall goals, needs and preferences.”

*for a cool video demonstration, visit the link to the article on the NYTimes site: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/29/science/29brain.html?scp=1&sq=monkeys+think&st=nyt

HAPPY FRIDAY!!!

Honey Packet Update

Rumor:

Honey fights spice. CONFIRMED

Rumor:

It's delicious. CONFIRMED

Rumor:

Aids in escape from Egyptian Jail. WAITING ON CONFIRMATION FROM SPECIAL AGENT TAMI. FULL REPORT EXPECTED AT KICKBALL GAME TONIGHT

In the vein of epic...

I present to you...

Epic Failure!

(http://mediaeater.tumblr.com/)

and...

The Evil Knievel of the sea!

(http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/world/2008/05/21/von.japan.flying.fish.ap)

(*Recommended listening: Hockey)

The Epic Sleep

You all have been through it. Those nights that you stay out way too late; the following work day that is a hellishly exhausting trudge.

I had one of those recently. Nothing to add to the Monday morning blues like a slice of fatigue and a hot cup of want-to-kill-yourself. I actually managed to sneak a small nap in, and achieved total deep sleep REM within 5 minutes, only to wake myself 5 minutes after that, thinking I was still at home in my bed and incredibly late for work, instead of curled up in my work clothes on the boss's couch.

To get through the day, I started planning the epic sleep that I was going to have that night. Here's my killer recipe:

1. Must be appropriately exhausted, but not in pain. If you have a headache... well... stop it!

2. Must not succumb to sleep in the first hour you are home after work - wait for it...

3. Must have a full, hearty meal. Namely, chicken scallopini as prepared by Vinnie Singh.

4. Must play at least one, preferably two rounds of mario kart wii. This step is crucial. If you are not in possession of a wii, you are obviously not as cool as I am.

5. Must have 1-2 beers*, well spaced, finished 20 minutes prior to entering bed chamber.

*(Can substitute one glass of red wine)

6. Must unwind with one episode of intellectually numbing material. Grey's Anatomy is perfect.

7. Must evacuate your person (yep, poop and pee,) before entering bed chamber. You don't want your epic sleep to be interrupted by annoying urges.

8. Uh, get clean.

9. Must engage in last-minute, brief, physically satisfying activity. No, I will not elaborate.

10. Must adjust soothing music playlist to appropriate level.

I must say, it was glorious.

Takes One to Know One?

Okay.

Recognizing bad writing does not a good writer make. Not automatically at least. Sigh. Let me explain...

Recently, we received a book proposal from someone whose job it is to find and develop material. You would think that because John Doe spends a lot of his time discerning between good and bad scripts/stories/etc, that he would be well-equipped to write something decent himself.

You would think.

Instead, it looked like someone had eaten pages from the book "The DaVinci Code," and the script "The Skulls," and proceeded to vomit it onto a word document.

That's not to say that someone who recognizes bad writing won't be a good writer. If you can recognize bad writing, that's a really strong start. I was just a little surprised at how incredibly off the mark someone with good taste can be when it comes to their own material.

It reminds me of those really annoying logic problems from 4th grade math: "If --> Then" statements, and all that crap.

IF (you are a good writer) --> THEN (you recognize bad writing) = LIKELY?

IF (you recognize bad writing) --> THEN (you are a good writer) = FALSE!

Ahhhhhh... I guess that's where he got messed up.

For the whiskey lovers...

Personally, I can't handle whiskey anymore in anything but a mint julep (preferably served in a jar,) but I found this tidbit of history interesting:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/wayoflife/05/07/jack.daniels.myths/index.html

(For a good mint julep and some fried pickles: "South" on Wilshire in Santa Monica - go early to beat the rush.)

The Amazing Multiple Uses of Honey Packets!

The other day, a friend and I got into a conversation about spicy food, which led to a discussion of how to beat the hotness. Rice and milk are tried and true, but more recently, I've heard that honey is an excellent neutralizer. Then we started talking about how honey can be used to beat overly-spicy-food-torture should you be kidnapped and thrown in a secret Egyptian prison. This got me thinking...

I am happy to present to you:

TOP TEN UNUSUAL USES FOR HONEY PACKETS!

1. (As discussed) Can be used to mitigate the painful effects of spicy-food-torture in an Egyptian jail.

2. Can be used as a weapon when squeezed (or oozed) into enemy's eye. Try getting that shit out.

3. When applied to the end of a long stick, can be used to pick up items such as leaves, gum wrappers, or keys dropped by a clumsy Egyptian prison guard.

4. Bear-distracter.

5. Should you be chased by a guard upon your escape from Egyptian jail, leaving a trail of honey can confuse and/or slow down pursuer. Nobody likes sticky shoes.

6. Can be consumed for nutrition should you be starved in captivity.

7. Impromptu hair gel. Just don't stay out in the sun too long.

8. Can be used to bribe Egyptian security guards for cigarettes or girly magazines. Or playgirl, if you're into that.

9. When placed atop a prison window sill, the honey will attract bees. Maybe even wasps. Once the bees get stuck in the layer of honey, you can collect their stingers to throw at the guards the next time they bring in a plate of overly-spicy food. Aim for the eyes. This will aid your escape.

10. Peace offering in the American South. It goes really well with fried everything.

So the next time you're at your local KFC, don't forget to pocket a few extra honey packets. You never know... it just may save your life!

(This segment was brought to you by "A Wholly Productive Use of My Time.")

Bingo!

This is possibly one of the saddest photos I've seen lately. Barring dead monks in China and starving war orphans in Africa, of course. And sad kittens who just want to know who eated their cookie.

This came from a New York Times article about how banning smoking from bingo halls has led to a massive decline in revenue and thus the money going to charity has taken a hit.

I find this picture sad on a few levels.

The caption on this picture is: "A player, lucky charms at hand, waited for bingo to start at a hall in Renton, Washingont." First, this woman is surrounded by odd stuff (including what looks like a dead white persian cat,) and emptiness. Second, it looks like the joys in her life consist of fried food and bingo. Maybe coloring. (Okay, that was mean.) Third, this image reminds me of the chubby girl in middle school who gets invited to "a party" and gets pranked when she shows up and no one is there. (No, I was not that girl. But it's still mean.) I won't even get into the obvious political nonsense about America's obesity and the lengths people will go to in order to hold onto a pretty unhealthy habit.

Suffice it to say, I figure purgatory is probably just an empty bingo hall.

Gattaca anyone?

baby steps, really, but still...

http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/04/23/genetic.discrimination.ap/index.html

If you can't be with the one you love... Settle?

I've never really liked the song "Love The One You're With." The tune is fine and all, pretty catchy, but it's the message that makes me want to blow chunks.

I appreciate the 'don't-worry-be-happy' kind of sentiment, but this is what I hear when I listen to the song:

"If you can't beeeeeee,
with the one you love,
settle!"

"If you can't beeeeee,
with the one you love (honey,)
get it on with someone else!"

Now, I'm all for spreading the love (but not without the glove!) as much as the next descendent of generation hippie, but I hate this song. With a passion. Not only does the song encourage you to ease your pain of longing by cheating on whoever it is you 'love,' but it also suggests - HEY! One guy or girl is as good as the next! Go ahead! Have at it! The world is your Venereal Disease!

If you think I'm completely wrong, I would very much like to know. But first.... consider....

There's a Rose
In a fisted Glove
And the eagle flies with the dove
And if you can't be with the one you love
It's alright
Go ahead and love the one, love the one, love the one your with
Love the one, love the one, love the one your with

If your guy can't come to you
And you don't remember who your talking to
Your concentration slips away
Because your baby, she is so so far away

And there's a rose in a fisted glove
And the eagle flies with the dove
And if you cant be with the one you love
Love the one your with

Don't be angry
Don't be sad
Don't sit cryin' for good times you had
There's a girl right next to you
And she's waiting for something to do

Do it Do it Do it
Turn your heartache into joy
She's a girl and your a boy
Get together, make it tonight,
You ain't gonna need no more advice
Just love the one your with

'Nuff said.

So wrong...

This will probably be all over the news. Personally, I think it's really f***ed

http://www.yaledailynews.com/articles/view/24513

Paving the way for ManBearPig...

Interesting stuff.....

http://www.ibnlive.com/news/birth-of-a-debate-mancow-hybrid-embryo-creates-row/62665-11.html

A typical day at the office.....

I work at an agency. I'd like to say it's not your typical office environment, but I've never worked at any other office so I really couldn't say.

"WHERE'S THAT MEMO?"

"What memo?"

"The one I told you to do, to that guy..."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"I told you do do it!"

"I'm sorry, you didn't tell me to do a memo, but I can have it done in no time."

"I DEFINITELY told you to do it."

"No, but I can do it right away if you-"

"YES, I DID tell you, do you have hearing problems?"

"No."

"Then why the f*** is it not on my desk?"

"Uh, you never told me?"

"If I think I told you, then I did."

"oh........right........."


Here, logic prevails!

Since when.....

So I was walking back from lunch in beverly hills the other day when I saw a cute little baby, all wobbly on her feet like a miniature drunk, who had one of those child-leashes on. I've seen those before, (at theme parks, usually, with the trail of children like a sad little train,) but what disturbed me was that the other end of this toddler's leash was tied to the bottom of a chair. In front of the entry to a busy starbucks. Her mother was sitting in the chair having a chat and a carefree 97 degree non-fat venti double shot dash of soy vanilla latte, not noticing her baby almost get smashed by the swinging door of the coffee shop. It wasn't until a little poodle knocked the kid over (which was kind of funny) and she started crying that the mother, irritated that she'd been interrupted, set the kid upright, cooed at her a bit, then went right back to her conversation.

Since when did kids become accessories?

God, a baby would really go well with this new Prada ensemble...

(on a completely separate note, here's a little guilt-free way to waste some time: http://www.freerice.com/)

This pretty much sums it up...

Uncommon Misconception....

When I was a kid, I thought eczma was a skin condition where some kind of bug crawls under your skin and lays disgusting little bug eggs that hatch and make your skin all itchy.

I also though the undertoe at the beach was some kind of invisible rogue wave that would violently snatch you away out to sea when you weren't paying attention.

And when I was really young, I thought that people who lived in ancient times didn't have any modern feelings or advanced thought. I know that everything in history says otherwise, but I secretly imagined them grunting at each other like cavemen.

You know you're spoiled when...

you walk out of a public restroom and wonder why the toilet hasn't automatically flushed....

A little perspective....

Likely? Probably not. Fascinating? Hells yeah!

http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/03/29/europe/physics.php

And if you liked that, prepare to get blown out of your socks....... and not by an American Idol contestant....... sorry if that disappoints you......

http://www.mkaku.org/

sometimes even though you have all the puzzle pieces, all put together, you wonder why you're looking at a blank space 

Something I love....

Extra sweet english tea, toast with butter and strawberry jam, cuddled up on the couch watching southpark on a saturday morning

:)

S'not Funneeeee.....

When I smacked into the bathroom door at work yesterday (didn't push the handle down far enough but tried to run through anyway,) it reminded me of something I love.  

I love it when someone is in a really heated argument or steaming mad and then they accidentally hurt themselves.  There are few things funnier than a furious klutz.

(a good listen: "Sovay" - Andrew Bird)

Virginia is for Lovers?

In case anyone is as concerned about this grossly incorrect catch-phrase as I am, let me clear it up once and for all. Virginia. Is. Not. For. Lovers.

Literally.

It is illegal to fornicate in the state of Virginia if you are not, in fact, married.

Apparently, when the Martin and Woltz agency was trying to come up with a slogan for Virginia tourism back in 1968, they went through several concepts including "VA is for Mountain Lovers," or "Virginia is for History Lovers." In the end, they thought these all too qualifying, so what did they do? They got lazy and left it at "lovers." Nice.

The most romantic thing about Virginia are the cherry blossoms in spring, and really that's DC's claim to fame, so it technically doesn't even apply. Some people tout colonial Williamsburg as "romantic." If you happen to find disneyland-priced cornbread and desperate-for-cash-costume-wearing-college-students romantic, well then, get excited!

If Martin and Woltz weren't liars, they would have kept the "history" in there.

So, all you lovers, Virginia doesn't want you. The law says so. Don't ask me how I know this.

something to think about....

on a number of levels.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/africa/04/03/angola.landmine/index.html

I dream in irony....

Last night I dreamt that Mitch, Jesse and I labored intensively to repair and clean my dirty, busted up old buick. We got all the dents out, washed, waxed, the whole nine yards -- I was so proud. Then Jesse had to move his car, which was, for some reason, right next to mine. In doing so, he accidentally rammed into the front of the car, completely destroying my light and taking off part of the front bumper. Mitch and I were aghast, but when Jesse got out of the car, he was laughing so hard he fell on the ground, where he continued to laugh until he peed his pants.

I woke up this morning thinking that this was a funny and ironic dream, but I'm not sure now whether I should wash and clean my car (like I had been planning,) or if someone is trying to tell me not to bother...

kickball lessons for life....

1. If you don't kick the ball, you fuck everyone
2. If you backflip on the field, you are an asshole
3. Dance
4. Don't shave your biceps. Seriously.

it's a start........

literally.  So what's to come?  I'm trying to avoid a straight up exercise in self-indulgence, so I need a purpose.  Any ideas?  I started going through old journals recently and realized just how much I wrote and how little I actually said.  People often like to start or end speeches with a quote.  Here's the kickoff, a little golden oldie from junior year....

"Y'know, this book is a gold mine for anyone trying to prove my mental instability.  To that I say, fuck you, I'll be brilliant one day..."

(for a little indulgence: postsecret.blogspot.com)

(the song I wake up singing: "A Better Son/Daughter - Rilo Kiley")