This was supposed to go under the last entry. Whoopth. I probably forgot it because it is absolutely unimportant.
Maybe dopes are like metroids, in that they have several stages and each takes more missiles to destroy than the previous. I wouldn’t say they are like pokemon because I always imagined a dope pokemon would go something like this
I wish I hadn’t.
I mentioned this briefly before, but more bears mentioning, if we can bear it being mentioned. Mustid dope bran costs more money to produce than most cereals because the dope’s contract requires that both its ears be fully represented on the box and all promotional imagery. But why does the dope GET a contract? What position is IT in to be making DEMANDS? How did it SIGN its name on the contract? Does a person have power of attorney for IT? What IS its name? Is it truly content with people just calling it “the dope?”
Uhhghghghg… mustid dope bran. That has to be dumbest cereal on the market. It HAS to be. It is required by law. And it is also in the dope’s contract. It’s even dumber than raisin brain, and that’s saying something. Specifically, it’s saying that dope bran is dumber than raisin brain. Raisin brain… what a dumb cereal! I lament that I have not brought it to your attention prior to now yet also it surprises me that word of Raisin Brain has not come to you through another source.
Raisin brain is the cereal that makes you incapable of thinking of anything except raisins when you eat it. You cannot act, since you cannot think about moving. Only raisins. It is surely one of the dope’s favorites. The dope is not legally entitled to enjoy things.
Yet we must not relax our vigilance for but a moment. Mustid is on the march, and our great warriors seem strangely preoccupied with other matters.
Ayato drew a dope once (I do not advise this). He has additionally drawn many great things which were not dopes. Lovely backgrounds, also! Not like this. I’m not sure where this is supposed to be. I initially was thinking of some space shippy sort of environment like Ayato often produces but it wanted to look more like a Romanesque era church that was converted into a shopping mall and then into an Amiga game.
Ayato. He openly admits that his name is Brandon so I may do better to say that, but it’s too close to my own name which I’m not at all fond of, even less when someone misspells it, and if I get confused and momentarily think that I misspelled it myself then I will feel very silly.
The orange creature is an upright walking wolfish being with the appropriate name of Lupine and the grey creature is a space alien called Scott. Although I suppose they’re both space aliens because I’ve never seen either of them around here. With that in mind I don’t know what Scott is at all. They are supposed to appear in a comic strip which has itself not appeared because it is better planned than mine. I don’t have time to plan things because it takes me a month to make one page when I am unencumbered by other obligations. I’m pretty sure Ayato made
page 1
page 2
page 3
page 4
this sequence in a few hours, just on a whim. I couldn’t even draw the car. I couldn’t conceive of the frame where the hand grabs the gear shift thing because I cannot DRIVE a car. Not two years ago, anyhow. I shouldn’t have looked at that. Now I just want to eat horrible things and sulk, and I already did that today. Not efficient.
My drawing was supposed to be quick and thoughtless, because I don’t have time to do substantial things these days. Unfortunately, I spent that time on it anyway and so the thoughtlessness became glaringly apparent, but perhaps that is appropriate given the presence of the blue unmentionable in the lower left. The dope is so dumb that I typed “right” instead of “left” the first time. How dare it make me do that? It is drawn to and in places where thought does not occur. Ayato remarked “somehow I think Scott and dopes would get along all too well.” I don’t know what dopes are anymore than what Scott is so perhaps they are both dopes. One just happens to be better drawn than the other. Don’t need no pair-a-dopes.
And this will be another week! Where do they come from? I can’t say, but I bet they have come a long long way. Not one of them is like another. Don’t ask us why, go ask your mother.
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Apparently this site earns $1.53 every day from ad revenue. However, the only [financially motivated] advertisements are posted by robots and followed by other robots looking for more sites to post ads on. Who is paying them to do that?
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Hey, remember this one? Well I don’t so I am posting a picture of it to remind myself.
I don’t know whether to feel vindicated or offended.
I have always strived for NOBROW.
If I get cancer for this class from using spray paint I had better be given at LEAST a b- out of it.
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Friday, October 8: I bought a glue gun today. I did not, however, update this website.
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Don’t eat this enigmatic cholesterol lump because somebody dared you to.
I will probably eat a KFC double-down before I die. I just don’t want it to be immediately before or why.
First of all, does anybody really clench their tongue out the side of their mouth like that? I never do that. I would know if I did. I know when a wet thing touches my epidermis.
Walter the hobo… I’m supposed to be afraid of this guy but I can’t when he does that.
More to the point, is it truly necessary for the two lower guys to hold up the bagel while the third one cuts it? They are endangering the cutter, and endangering themselves by being so near the path of the blade. Apart from creating unsafe work conditions and unnecessary liability, they are themselves unnecessary and should be fired immediately. The cutter should also be fired for walking on the food. All three should be required to take a neckerchief management class. Fire the bagel, too; they’re boring. The knife may stay. I approve of its stripes.
But nobody ever listens to me, does they? Last year I repeatedly reiterated my belief that every one of them should also be fired immediately, yet here they are again. In fact they are even more numerous than before. That less is going wrong does not change that just as much is going right.
The mouse creature, curiously about one fourth the size of the squirrel creature (the one in the grid-pattern jacket. YES that’s supposed to resemble a squirrel GOSH), was initially sitting on a conveniently placed curb-edge from the reference picture found online which I started with, but when I actually visited the place I saw that there was no curb at all, just a brief slope. Thus, a banana.
And who’s this? This is the character that I had to remove from the picture to preserve balance. You can see how well that worked out. I wasn’t entirely sure what he was wearing, anyhow. I could have switched him with the tall kid, but that kid was at least tall, whereas this one is about the same size as the dopey tail-ed miscreants.
I hear the actual 5000 event occurred while I was safely out of the country a few weeks ago in August. However, when I initially created this image, I faced the fears and apprehensions of those who initially misread the lettering to believe that DOPE IS COMING. Permit me to emphasize:NO dOPES ARE COMING AND NO dOPES HAVE COME. That needed to be said. I had nothing to do with that.
This makes me think that I should devote a page to all the times other people have drawn stupid things like dopes and dope sympathizers. Not because I think you care, but just so I don’t forget. It’s happened a few times by now and I’m starting to worry.
In other nopes I was forbidden to take pictures of this building, even to use as guide for a picture intended to represent a charity for patients at this very hospital. And so I stopped taking them.
In the event you are curious, the charity is to raise money to help the patients get treatment, not to give them cancer.
We’re trying to run a business, after all.
Also, when I referred to the Disney Robin Hood as “the movie that probably turned more kids of this generation gay than any other,” I had written that specifically to amuse myself and meant to remove it, I merely forgot to. I fully acknowledge that it doesn’t make sense. I could say it turned them “furry,” but that’s not generally regarded as a major social demographic and the word isn’t as funny to say people “turned” into it. This is worth acknowledging, also, because I tend to have a big problem when people get all homophobic or apparently so up in the general vicinity of my business and I don’t think I have established my position, to myself or anyone else clearly enough that AGHRRRRRRR I’VE BEEN CASHEWED
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speaking of backs…
OH NO! BAXTER STOCKMAN!
As for where I went,
“Safety” as in me not feeling compelled to search through the 514 pictures I took for sequential usable material, since I’m no good at that stuff these days.
There’s danger everywhere. And this wasn’t even “there;” I saw this near the train station after I got back to New Haven. Be vigilant!
There was a series of these but I assumed, erroneously, that they were blatant and stupid enough for somebody else online to have cataloged them already
Ooh, that thar be the golden gate bridge. I get it, I know where I am now. I must be in a hokey disaster movie.
Take the express to tasty! I think that’s what that says. I know it’s in San Francisco, but “take the express to teste” seems like it would be considered a bit crass. It is a city populated by real people, not tacky movie stereotypes. All the same I choose not to ponder the composition of the white fluid there.
No no, do not go there!
I’m pretty sure this is a JAIL.
Don’t you know, razor wire (which is a genericized trademark) is not for train stations…
Also, do not confuse the fence topping-material with barbed wire; barbed wire came to prominence as a way of deterring domesticated animals from leaving enclosures. Razor wire’s sole purpose is to maim humans.
Oh, OH. Excuse me for KNOWING stuff.
page 36, down there somewhere, of this.
I thought: I can get away with 15 frames because this “scene” is mostly talking, mostly by the same creature, myself forgetting that before the end I’d have crazied it up with distracting lsd backgrounds. I would like to be part of an anti drug program, for the part where you explain how illicit substances destroy a user’s brain cells. You would show the caffeinated spider’s web and then this comic page. We won’t tell the kids that the worst thing I ingested was a barrel of snack mix. Maybe if I get famous I will be able to hire an assistant to undraw backgrounds for me. Fortunately, this issue has totally distracted me from the list of problems with the page I was initially going to list here. After doing them this time, I had momentarily become terrified that my character drawings were becoming more troublesome than the backgrounds, but in the end the backgrounds came through and reaffirmed themselves as the bigger nuisances and all was as it should be. Howdy.
Hey, I wonder… You don’t think…
I worry I may have more in common with that spider than I thought.
Tue’s day: I just realized I forgot to do the “alarm” color overlays as I did last time. Eh.
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page 34 of Aw Beans: A Beet Street High Seas Adventure Starring Lorna Doone and Dinty Moore
This one features some of the worst inking I’ve ever done. I’m really not getting any better at it. However, I am getting very good at wasting time/ink adding needless black shadow-lines that I have to remove after I scan the deal because it makes everything look burnt once it is converted from gray to black-and-white and actual color gradations are added. Whoopth.
The dimensions of that room and its relationship with the hallway continue to change. I grow weary of its rebellious ways and will tolerate them not much longer.
My scanner needs to be fixed/replaced, but this sort of thing hardly seems worth the trouble.
11-18-2009
I will be going to Chicago on Friday and returning to Not-Chicago on Monday. I suppose I should have told you sooner.
dopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopesdopes
Now, I’m sure this is a GOOD can opener, but one accomplishes that merely by carrying out its stated, titular function of opening cans. Once the cantents have been exposed to our cruel, food spoiling air, there isn’t a whole lot to distinguish the very best there ever can be throughout all time from the merely adequate for right now. For all I know THIS is the best can opener ever. It provides every bit as much evidence to support the claim.
My old can opener was not as good. Do you know why? You will in a moment, unless you stop reading right around here, and I can’t blame you since I’m talking about can openers. My old can opener was bad because one of its gears and the plastic coverings for its handles broke off. Thus, it could not be used to open cans. This new one passes that basic test. Therefore it is an engineering miracle?
That sounds like a yes. And so, even if this wonder can-opening can opener ceases to exist and another inherits the position of best in the world, there will never, can never be another best ever. Why don’t you think about that.
Nevermind. You don’t need to answer. Unless you were going to, in which event I am curious as to how you might respond, but I suspect you weren’t going to, and so you need not even bother not minding. You need not even submit to the brain wave-eating machine.
Does anybody actually do this? Or does my lack of a left side right hand indicate that I am not meant to understand?
I gather that it also helps to carry a stove burner on one’s head. Perhaps this is a heat-off/bacony squiggle-off, a challenge at last to our foul robotic overlords’ claim that they can do everything better than us. I lament that my head cannot attempt such acts of valiance. Maybe in its earlier days, but now it has a torso and limbs to support. The one in the example is young and reckless, with, it thinks, nothing to lose. An all too common and all too tragic situation. But there is hope! Do not curse your condition! It is only natural! Do not make the mistakes so many others have!
The full story is that Regis Philbin doesn’t think he has enough money yet despite nearly fifty years of paid television appearances, supposedly having been filmed more than any other person, as certified by an Irish beer brewing company that is one of few enduring cultural presences older than Regis. As for Kelly Ripa, she also has a funny name.
Have you ever thought “gosh, I wish EVERYTHING I saw seemed like it was through broken venetian blinds?”
After taking this picture, I found out without wishing to from people I came across without wishing to that supposedly Kanye “my first name is in pig latin” West wears glasses like this, which makes them marketable. I wish an emulated-beyond-reason celebrity would take up a seriously bizarre bit of fashion. No more of this wrong colored band aid business, I’m going to wear a propellor beanie or a cardboard Burger King crown in public.
SPEAKING of cardboard burger king crowns…
First of all, skulls again! But at least they sort of make sense in the context of hats. That’s about the only thing they can wear besides glasses. But more importantly, on the left: I can’t tell if this is a retro trendy throwback $20 Hot Topic Burger King crown, or a free one that a recent classy mall diner just forgot about. Or perhaps an actual king on a really tight budget mistakenly left it here.
Tah! KING GRAHAM! Liege of Daventry, lore’s most destitute fictional monarchy. Despite owning a magical treasure box that CREATES gold (and leads to massive inflation, but we’ll discuss that some other time), a magical shield that is impervious to all perils, and a magic mirror, that, one assumes, he can see his own reflection in, King Graham still dresses like the Men without Hats (despite having a hat; this may just be to prove that he also can’t read) and regularly incurs fatal abuse in really stupid ways without much resistance. Sure, he always comes back to life, but that is a skill also common among many digital heroes who aren’t kings. Additionally, it is my guess is that through some means it will come about that Graham can’t win the game without his meat monarch crown, but he won’t realize that until much later.
It FIGURES King Graham is in league with dopes. But I tell you this: I download no roms from no dopes. I only went there for turbografx cd ISOs. The dopes were none the wise, much less wiser.
There is a reason nobody wears those anymore.
I cut from whatever direction I WANT. You cannot change my ways. Brainwashing and sending out the baby scissors to plead YOUR closeminded agenda is despicable. The baby will be spared, but you may just have sealed your own fate, and I will not be there to deperforate your way to freedom.
Well excyoooooooooz me!
Indexed search is an annoying thing. I could have used that ten years ago, when the real search was slow, but I finally own a computer in which the search isn’t slow anymore and I get this nonsense. Fuh. It was dealt with easily enough by various people, apparently. I wish Microsoft would make it more clear all the great and useful things its operating system is capable of doing. I shouldn’t have to type nutty things into google and hope some nerd spent a year changing every value in the system registry to see what happens and came across a solution (I will use Hotbot next time).
That didn’t work when I tried it, though. I will figure something out. Maybe index mode will surprise me with effectiveness.
I’m certain Macos has its benefits, but they aren’t of benefit to me, and I don’t feel like searching for them and possibly not finding them, besides. I have used some version of Windows for fourteen years. It does everything I need it to. I know how it works. I’m not hurting anyone with it. All my programs run in it (xp, anyhow). Provided I don’t share the computer with anyone else and the hard drive is adequately sized, the only problems I have are with third party software and the occasional entirely functional thing that Microsoft created but broke between versions or decided not to let me use for some reason, most likely to appease the ever growing amount of easily impressed, more easily confused whiners who have a hyperconniption if there’s ever more than one option presented to them, who will otherwise buy Apple systems and tell me I should, too. I’m not here to talk about this. Don’t make me talk about this. I haven’t researched it. I’ve merely gotten angry at it. I am here to talk about this:
I will NOT be screened for approval by dopes! dopes, I know. And I know I want no dopes.
This is NOT GOOD. In fact, it is quite bad. I might even call it terrible. What’s that? …Yes, it seems I would. Dah, dope! It is not permitted to be here, and yet… there it is. One way or another, it’s destination dumpster. Being slightly less creepy in appearance and corporate sponsorship than the wrinkled orange thing above you does not necessarily qualify you for existence, dope. The dope is qualified for few things outside the jurisdiction of my rage.
“THE” dope. It thinks it’s the only dope in the world! Such blasphemous arrogance and hubris! I WISH it was the only dope, but it isn’t. And if I could obtain wish fulfillment, I’d wish for NO DOPES, anyhow. I believe this can be accomplished in our lifetimes.
I EAT BEETS
(disclaimer: I do not eat beets)
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I thought it would be funny if I acted crazy and posted a psychotic rambling thing of obsessive details. I forget that this often comes across as legitimate crazy.
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Latest development: automated birth-day greetings from message forums I haven’t used in months that I’m not particularly active with when I do use them still aren’t cutting it. Robots, alas, still haven’t learned to love. Do they think I don’t know what they say about me when I’m not around? Do they think I don’t know who’s always trying to undermine my sanity by filling up my error box with broken links I fixed years ago?
If I said such a thing I’d only appear in silhouette, too. Years ago I wrote something to the effect that I did not understand why people abbreviated “Patrick” regarding this particular occasion. The full truth of the matter is that I hate it a lot. I hate the sound, I hate the look, I hate the needless informality that serves no purpose other than to be more hatable. I additionally hate all beef patties, I hate rice paddies, I hate Patti Mayonnaise, I hate pat-a-cake, I hate patios, and I only just kind of like Pad Thai. Patamon gets a special pass because it claims to be a “mokvwap,” which apparently I discovered (or at least invented the word for) without realizing.
Although This one is pushing my limit. And now that I think of it, I discovered dopes, too, and things only got worse after that.
That one at the top– who put it there? It clearly did not climb up there because it seems unaware that it is there. It also seems unaware that it is wearing a scarf. Why would it wear that? If it was capable of sensing cold there are other things it could wear before a ridiculous scarf became necessary. And the one in the middle — it thinks it’s so introspective, with its fingers all clasped up. It thinks it is smarter than other dopes! Guess what, dope: you’re still a dope! You’re just as dumb! You actually seem dumber because of your shallow attempt to appear smart. Who put a cape on it? Who created a dope-sized cape?! And why? Is this a means to distinguish it from the scarf dope? What would be the point? They’re both dopes. And the third one, it can’t read! Obviously! There is an arrow pointing this out, and were the dope not oblivious to all and also was able to read, it would know this. It has no comprehension of anything it sees. Yet it smiles. Why does it try to fool us? If you took the book from it, the thing would continue smiling. Who gave it the book? Was this just a bad book, or is there a person who truly has so little appreciation for literature as to render a work unfit for further distribution by letting a dope near it? Why have these specific, unusual fashion accessories also been targeted? What sinister, conniving, cowardly, unscrupulous fascist could possibly
Please don’t come over here.
On a final note, I have just the strength remaining before passing out from side effects of my Futile Rage Syndrome medication to observe that the bow tie creature’s once small and unintimidating ears have somehow expanded (though it still has no nose) to become the size dopes’ ears used to be , that position vacated as said dopes’ ears themselves inexplicably grew in size. I suppose it’s not worth asking whose fault that is. Not without arranging to have myself temporarily locked in a room lacking sharp edges first.
The comedy central channel keeps running promopes for its ROAFT of Lawrence Cable Gentleman. I thought I had a slanderous thing written about him that would be important to get in before a heavily advertised insult show, regardless of whether I intend to watch it (I don’t!), but it’s evidently pretty basic. If it was complete and had a point I suppose I would have put it here already.
People think Dan Whitney is insincere and phony not because he appears in movies, bad movies, as Larry The Cable Guy, but because he’s Larry The Cable Guy as whatever the character in the movie is. They just don’t realize it. It’s like when you have the cast of Tiny Toon Adventures AS the cast of Star Wars, or the cast of Muppet Babies AS the cast of Star Wars, or the unendurably enduring cast of The Simpson AS the cast of Star Wars AS the cast of Monopoly*. It just seems less than valid. The flanlike Family Guyites actually had a full length “movie” that was somehow for sale where they were the cast of Star Wars. And Larry’s not making fun of bad movies, either. He’s just making bad movies. I have to think this may lead to serious psychological problems, for him, if it hasn’t already. He must know the movies are bad, and maybe he thinks
*the unsettling corporate synergy of the Robot Chicken Star Wars Episode Part 2 eludes inclusion in this sentence due to not making use of a specific nonexistent “cast.”
And if he did drop all the fat points, these non-typical results legally required to be presented as non-typical results were supported by an additional incentive of getting paid heaps of dollars to appear in the ad for the product. Us proles without personal trainers to keep us on the program and make sure we also eat
Oh, I see. I forgot that Chowder Pot III, my favorite least favorite local restaurant, now offers call ahead seating. I just hope a pot will be enough. You may want the Chowder Cauldron, Mr. Guy.
I already eat my own food! I’m not going to pay you dollars to let me continue doing that! My own food. Yes, I imagine obesity is rarely a concern among the section of the populace that sustains itself by stealing pies off of window sills. Haaa ehhh. I think these things only ever required people to buy special food so that at some point the requirement could be dropped and made to seem like a special privilege.
I try not to insult overweight people as a group (really!). Fats are one of the precious remaining groups about whom cruel jokes are socially acceptable forms of discrimination, along with nerds, gays and hill folk. Which possibly explains how they’re so easy to get laughs with. However, it is my personal goal to make every task as difficult as possible for myself. I only hope this is as hard for you to read.
But! I eat many horrible things and owe my scale stability mainly to an overactive metabolic processing system. I expect one day soon it is just going to stop and i’ll look like a mancubus within a month.
And it only gets worse from there. You may be surprised to learn that there are worse things than living in hell and being regularly gunned down by little men in green suits and your co-residents. You could be so out of shape that you can’t lift your otherwise incredibly useful metal, handless arms to swat a dope off your head.
Do you get the impression I didn’t draw that with the expectation that I would be showing it to anyone? Or does the rest of this entry rule that out?
Oh schnozzle, is this another entry about that Fallon bloke? Hooray for us!
Do feel free to just look at the pictures and imagine what the tiny little letters are going on about.
Yeeah, I saw’d Jimmy Fallon, doing his things on the television show. Some stuff worked, some didn’t. Some stuff seemed to work that I hated a lot. And verily there were curtains and bands and suits and desks and clips. But one thing stood out to me as particularly indicative of why I should not continue watching the program, and it surprisingly had nothing to do with the frequent bits of product placement. I could give a bushel of Del Monte brand canned beets that the three items Mr. Fallon invited three audience members to lick in exchange for ten dollars across fifteen minutes in a showbituary with no other aspect called “Lick it for Ten” were properly identified by the gorky announcer. Really, it’s no worse than the Price is Right, which I also could never watch on a normal basis for reasons completely unrelated to its commercial cooperation (for example, were you aware that it is a game show about guessing how much stuff costs?). That junk’s only going to get more prevalent if we don’t want commercial breaks to get even longer. Somehow. I don’t know what is keeping television from going back to being entirely written by the sponsors. Not “integrity,” certainly. Anyway, that was the first show. The second was better. Still not great, but I don’t want it to be great because I don’t want to want to watch this. I just want it to be so unremarkable that I won’t remark upon it again.
But! My justification for bringing up this topic. On the Friday show there was a food preparation segment and it ended with Mr. Fallon having constructed an edible object. It has been my understanding that the whole point of cooking bits on these shows was that everything went wrong and that it was fun to see how they could go wrong, in contrast to the typical outcome of the chef guest’s own television programs (naturally, there’s no reason to speak on tv to a chef who has no tv show). More basely, it is fun to play around with food. I don’t like seeing edible items get wasted, but realistically one must assume that regardless of outcome most of that stuff is getting thrown away as garbage whatever happens.
But that’s the best kind!
Curiously, one of the promotional ads that appeared prior to the show’s daybew depicted just such a mistakeful occasion. The woman on the left, who the nbc.com file name informs me is the domestic cyborg 215_RACHAELRAY_001, has a run-in with a wizard who magically transforms her into a flaming stunt-person who is too embarrassed to face the camera. No such sorcerial chicanery took place on the actual broadcast, alast. And despite the goggles not even a simple Family Double Dare physical challenge dared break out. Just a couple affluent goofs clinging classes together while watched by millions of pitiful proles.
Although I mentioned not being bothered [more than I usually am] by the sponsors, I couldn’t help but notice that when I looked up the internet version to get the illegal pictures that it was accompanied by full-screen Subway Restaurants ads with a banner aftertaste and Jimmy actually spoke “subway eat fresh” before he bit into the thing he was biting into (and then he pimped his own website). A joke, perhaps, but the best joke for a situation is never a current marketing slogan for a product roughly equivalent to the object you see before you. Earlier in the week Craig Ferguson, who I have been watching again because I felt about about the way I dismissed him two weeks ago even though there is no logical reason that I should since it’s just a dumb tv show that has no feelings, had his own needless chef guest who prepared little hamburgers and I am certain that at no point did it as much as occur to Mr. Ferguson to state “I’m lovin’ it!” or some other related meat-mash market mumbling.
Everyone knows the Scottish hate the British. Truly tragic, because, as a helpful person reminded me, Scotland is part of Great Britain.
I have no problem with the idea of cooperation, and if put into such a position I would also likely attempt to follow the foodmaster’s instructions, just because I do so hate trouble (Not even complimentary popomatic bubbles can change that). But I would never be given a show like this! But if the world broke and I was, and I still wasn’t willing to mess stuff up just to amuse people, I would at least look over the items on the table during the preceding commercial “break” and try to think of some stuff to say about it, secure in my knowledge that watching people make food is kind of boring, and upsetting in additional ways for people who will not have any part in consuming it. I suppose I really do owe it to them to sabotage the situation, even at the risk of having a man dressed like a buccaneer yell at me. And beside all that I have to imagine that not quite having his expectations met by a culinary amateur is less of an insult to a legitimate chef de cuisine (I’m assuming) like Mario Batali than is comparing his work to a Subway product.
The Tonight Show W/ J. Leno, January 19 2009: Jimmy Fallon films his own head for “webisodes” despite multple stable professionally operated official NBC cameras already filming him better. It should be noted that he said “webisode” at least seven times so it is safe to assume he has reviewed the terminology and found nothing wrong with it.
You, world, never got me to say “podcast” or “blog,” I suspect webisode will meet a similar fate. Specifically: everyone else disregards my protests because my opinion actually has no bearing on anything.
Look, he has the preview thing open despite not being able to view it. Decadence!
Do we really need two annoying, internet video dependent desk show hosts who call themselves “Jimmy?” Can’t one be James or Seamus? At least the two Craigs agreed to work in shifts and only one insisted on “Craiggers.”
Do we also truly require more videos of just immobile heads in little boxes saying stuff at us? Is anybody really so entranced by mouths? I put up with that during my first half in King’s Quest V and Faxanadu, but shouldn’t we have made some progress since then? All we’ve succeeded in doing is making the heads larger and needlessly better animated. I’m weak of mouths.
Of course I wasn’t expecting to be “friends” with somebody named GPSHyphenFitness, but I get so few “friend” notices, even junkety ones, that I always look over their pages with the slightest, most naive hope that maybe this ambiguously named entity I’ve never heard of really does want to be me best pal. Perhaps, even if it is a robot, it is just as lost and confused as I am. And maybe I really did in fact know a bunch of Russian live-journal users and I just forgot about it. But anyway, whatever disappointment I deserve for my foolishness, it ought not to come in the form of this human fragment yelling at me about fitness the instant that section of the page finally shows up. If you want to sell me on fitness but really just don’t have the space to pan out, at least show me an arm or something. All this proves is that your clothing is starting to merge the frame.
If he doesn’t want me to see his Slim Goodbody suit, he should have worn something else.
Hello.
Hey hey, somehow Jay Leno mentioned “you got married since the last time you were here,” sending Jimmy into a totally spontaneous rehearsed bit about the crazy characters you meet at weddings! Which required him to stand up and walk across the stage several times as different people his mimicry skills were inadequate to distinguish. When this was done Mr. Leno asked if Mr. Fallon intended to deliver a nightly monologue, and yes! Jimmy does! He also stood up again, to give an example, and got bonus applause for standing up, and then proceeded to say much the same sort of things as in his pre-plotted interview. Only while standing.
How does Fallon expect to stand out after two hours of talk shows on his own channel, nevermind with more and more viewers straying from nbc anyhow, when he’s still relying on the same phony setups in his own guest appearances? He also mentioned that he plans to have a personal band and I’m past the point where I wonder if he’ll have a desk. How long before he acquaints himself with Electric Lincoln?
Jimmmmmy has said on several occasions that the band is called “The Roots.” Like this matters (although it is a better name than Toby). I’ve seen bands on these shows and they all do the same stuff: noisily waste time with varying degrees of tolerability. Mr. Ferguson forgoes one (though probably only for budget reasons), and while it does deprive him of a consistent on-set target for abuse, I don’t see why this necessarily needs to be a musician beside a bunch of other musicians who don’t get to say anything. Regarding strictly music-related matters, disregarding its necessity, as a home viewer I can’t tell the difference between live music and the other kind. As an in-studio audience member, however, I preferred the pre-recorded music because it wasn’t as loud.
Jimmy again, with Conan O’Brien, standing again, reading off a little card again. This occurred the night I was in the audience. It’s hard enough to pay attention to the designated chat space when you can see the whole room, why did they have to bring out a guy I had written annoyed things about before I had posted them? How am I expected to appreciate the parts that went well when it is necessary for the waiting website entry’s completion that I maintain a contrary attitude until then? Do you even think? Jim only said “webisode” once, though, so maybe there is hope yet.
Regardless, prior to then I assembled this totally unnecessary, overbloated sega cd-looking animated gif of Jay Leno tossing water on Mr. Fallon. After about the thirtieth time I watched it I started to feel bad about talking trash about Fallon, even though the act only happened once and Jimmily poutily swiped the mug off the desk afterward, almost hitting somebody with it. But maybe if I find film of every person who sort of bothers me suffering misfortune and I watch it a lot I will become a less complaintive person overall.
Be aware, however, that the dope is not a “person.”
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I spend a massive amount of time making things which have no purpose. Some of them I don’t even put here.
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Ohhhhhhhhhhh busybusybusy.