I will be attempting to sell art at the Connecticut Walk for Autism on Sunday. Autism is apparently big business. So much so that it needs us to walk so we can raise money for more autism with which to generate more business.
Ideally, my presence will repel folk with such force as to make the event a Run, therefore raising more money.
But I am kidding; in fact my wares do quite well among people with diagnosed mental disorders. I have one so I can say that, and can disclaim responsibility if told I cannot. It is called a “autism spectrum.” I am not entirely sure what that means, but it sounds fancy. Somebody asked me what my spectrum was and I replied “the visible spectrum.” I do not always know if anyone else knows what I am talking about, but I am pretty sure they can see me. And if they cannot, that is my chance to escape.
I wish “breakfast just got sexier” was the stupidest thing I ever heard in a Dunkin Donuts advertisement, but it is hard to beat “artisan bagel.” Or “doing things is what we like to do.”
on the topic of doughnuts, with cookie dough and brownie batter around, why are you making doughnuts? It seems like you are half way to making two better things.
Just because these are limited edition doughnuts does NOT mean we are running out of doughnuts!
Also, my spellchecking mechanism recognizes donuts but not doughnuts.
The advertisement was audible again while I was writing this, because I am not allowed to write without voices coming at me incessantly, and apparently the announcer is saying “breakfast just got zestier.”
Which means they are chopping up little bits of zest brand soap into the Ore Ida tater tots they call hash browns, trying to outdo Taco Bell’s Dorito taco. In which event I still will not eat it but will be just as perturbed and curious.
An alternate, more common interpretation of “zestier” is as a code word for “we got more salt in there.” I am impressed it was possible but am otherwise uninterested. Even though the product features guacamole made with REAL avacadoes! Because I am supposed to be impressed that a company which has earned trillions of dollars selling food made food properly. Don’t you people who have been eating the fake stuff feel silly now! No, that is probably not something that you feel. Soon the Apple company will be boasting that if you order an ipad the box won’t be full of strawberry jam.
The fact that, even as a eunuch, I heard “sexier” and found it only mildly surprising for our current state of advertising suggests that a sexier breakfast may not in fact be far off.
I mean, assuming that is possible. We might not even need to get an artist to draw big eyelashes and high heeled shoes on this munchstrosity.
Now you are just being gross.
There was a period, I am uncertain how long, when I understood a condom to be a heavy, plastic box-like object. This followed the period when I did not understand a condom to be different from a condo, and I misunderstood several mad magazine gags as a result.
The imagined object was transparent at the sides, but the edges were thick and black in color. I knew one was used during sex acts but was not certain how it worked. I reckoned it was uncomfortable. Seeing the word still brings to my mind the same imagery, occasionally. I have even seen a real one in person, though I have never knowingly touched one. They look unpleasant. The same applies to walruses.
“You don’t just eat ’em” is the trademarked slogan for pringles brand potato crisps. What does that mean? I thought eating them was the extent of my obligation if I came into possession of them, but apparently that is inadequate. And like many rules of society, the further expectation is not explained. What else should I be doing with these not-quite chips? Is the moronic “duck mouth,” which dominated the brands’ 1990s advertising, and which nobody should ever, ever do, now compulsory? Am I supposed to build something out of pringles? Is Kellogg, who purchased the brand from the Proctor and Gamble company in 2012, with its greater investment in remotely nutritional products, looking to instruct me on the full function of my digestive system? You don’t just eat em, you digest and excrete em.
And yet the ambiguous grammar of conversational english makes it difficult to determine if this is instruction or merely information. Sometimes an orator says “don’t” when one means “shouldn’t.” This may mean you SHOULD not merely eat Pringles. Be a responsible citizen; recycle the can afterward. Make a a kaleidoscope or store your travel toilet brush in it. Keep one as a blank round for a t-shirt gun and another as a marital aid for any medium-sized ungulate you are keeping (whose marriage is in need of aid, obviously; I would be practical, not lewd). Or perhaps this means that you should not eat Pringles without adequate preparation. Don’t just eat ’em, consider the risks. Ask your doctor if Pringles are right for you. The Pringles virus may already be inside you.
I have been out of the pringle game a long time, so this catchphrase, arriving in my presence without the context of a greater advertising campaign, has me somewhat bewildered. I stopped buying them when the company stopped putting fake little green things on the sour cream and onion chips like every other company does. Not that, in my experience, pieces of real native onions are ever green, you, the producer, have cultivated me as an american consumer to expect certain things without considering if they link up with reality, especially with regard to the color of things I put in my mouth. Grape is purple. Dew is green. Cheese is orange. Sour Cream and Onion chips have little green things on them. If you suddenly change a color or remove a component that contains a color, I need to know why. Otherwise I start wondering what those green things are or why I would eat “sour cream and onion” ANYTHING. I will not consume actual sour cream. I always make sure it is not in my burritos. It is essentially the Mexicish equivalent of mayonnaise for joints that never kept up on their trendy fees enough to have been issued chipotle mayonnaise. Disgusting white goop needs to be in all prepared food. They invent new names to make it harder for me to ask to not have it.
Now “aioli” is the unexplained mystery ingredient but I am not fooled! I would not even eat Aioli pringles.
I have seen some people who claim to “blog every day.” Is that something to be proud of? There is no legal guideline for what constitutes “blogging” and it can amount to nothing more than posting a video you found or had found at you. I should not compare myself to such people. If my page is just stuff off of other peoples’ pages, why should anyone come to it? With that in mind, here is something nobody else would want on their page. I fell out of practice on this method, but most of my better pictures are done in the method so clearly it should not be ignored. Nor should consideration of subject matter quality.
Street tacos, made with real gravel and grit. Throw on some mud gravy if you feel adventurous. Then put it in your mouth at some point.
Unless I am to take this as “tacos from a street vendor,” which means face and brain matter, for the authentic cabeza flavor, and the cost-effectiveness that one reasonably associates with selling food out of a truck, unless you are still saving up for the truck. I forgot to check the ingredients but I am sure they are in there. Sure, I would eat that frozen and reheated. I hope this same brand starts offering street pizza as well. After eh, what is “evol” but evolution –survival and adaptation of the fittest– cut short? (It is also evil misspelled).
I hate the phrase “the inmates are running the asylum!” I have, on two distant past occasions, been involuntarily hospitalized, and if by some error I suddenly had freedom the worst thing I would do is leave. I would not trust in my ability to operate it as a business. Using the word “inmate” suggests an expectation of a prison-like state of affairs; what do you think most prisoners would do? Stick around and wait for Batman to show up? If you think they are wearing strait jackets also (and they would not be) then they would be in no condition to fight!
I do not think google gets my joke.
Time for dinner.
The problem should never have gotten this bad.
Well pho much for my attempt to post something every day. I ultimately get pulled in too many directions for me to remember this on all days. Still that was about 15 posts for January, more than any other month the last eight years, more likely. In fact I stopped reading The Onion about eight years ago because it started posting new things every day instead of once a week, and those things started being videos that had one story, and then ALSO a text crawl of ludicrous headlines that would require a second viewing to catch. Or more likely a third viewing if I tried to pay attention to both parts the first time. And THEN it added a separate sport section that also updated every day. I never was interested in sporting but I had to look anyway and it was too much. It was too much time spent reading things that were made up and of no consequence, and then much worse if I let them pile up unread. Also too much of it veered to Saturday Night Live style where it was 90% copy of a regular boring news story with one key sentence off a bit now and then to remind readers that it was “satire.” It was like a job. And then I let the same thing happen with the tv shows I still watched. I was relieved when Steve Colbert’s Report show concluded because I actually did like that show and did not have the option of quitting because I wanted to. I relish no longer wanting to watch it.
I was disappointed that my favorite muppet, The Count, was absent from the final broadcast’s time-wasting guest montage. However, Henry Kissinger looks sufficiently muppetish, and is also a vampire.
There may be other characters he resembles also. For example, here he looks like Mr. Wright from the Super NES version of Simcity.
Also note that while Colbert Report’s website deleted his interview with Bill Cosby from last September 24 barely a month later when longstanding allegations against Cosby were abruptly given credence by The Main Ice Cream Media, Kissinger, a war criminal before Cosby ever abused a glass of Jesus juice, whose actions actually killed people, and is, one assumes, due for an abrupt mass retroactive hate dump at any time, was deemed public-relationsly safe enough to close out the series as a whole yet later than that. Because unlike Kissinger or the now-beloved convicted rapist Mike Tyson, Cosby kept his secrets secret for a long time, so instead of getting a public reprieve in older age, he has to take major scrutiny and blacklisting for the first time. So is he, like Jerry Lee Lewis, who may or may not have murdered at least one of his wives, going to have to retreat to his hometown and buy off everybody? Surely he has enough money that he CAN. He does not NEED to be on television to pay for whatever Neverland Ranch kind of place he might start living in as a recluse. And Kissinger is 91. In ten years Cosby will be 87. He may yet have a few years of appreciation waiting after people resume not caring what he might have done. Clearly I need to start committing some big crimes to get more attention a few years after I get punished for doing them. Although THEN everybody will be disappointed when I fail to post an update every day.
If a bullet ricochet sound effect has been heard in a Yosemite Sam cartoon, please consider not putting it in your serious World War I movie.
And speaking, as I was, of over-promoted, mostly empty objects,
These Patriots balloons seem to be floating low compared to the others. Perhaps not inflated sufficiently?
Otay, I don’t care about it either. It is precisely how little I care about it that makes me so aware of its pointlessness, which I do care about. No other 100% frivolous topic – local elections, cartoons, late night talk shows – makes people feel so much like they have to go out of their way(s) to warn me that they don’t care before commenting. I do get a few “I don’t watch televisions” here and there, but I would also not watch it if I had the choice.
By now putting GATE at the end is you admitting that it is an overhyped stupid story that is a waste of everyone’s time. Television network news loves this kind of garbage. They have only 21 minutes to fill with information of the entire world’s concern, not even 7 days a week, and they waste time on this repeatedly.
Today (yesterday) the big story was this year’s Historic Buzzard. Weather is also ludicrously fetishized by tv news, but this one is an actual world story, at least, in a sense, perhaps inadvertently, since presumably other countries were messed with when major transit hubs canceled all flights in and out.
That was about half the broadcast. They STILL made time for more nonsense about the stupid footballs. The caption literally was “WHO DEFLATED THOSE FOOTBALLS?” The answer was, essentially, “dunno.” Gosh if they DID know, something might actually happen, ehhh? There might be something to TALK about! Would we postpone or cancel the Superb-Owl to do a proper investigation? To find out how long this team that almost always wins has been cheating? No no no, do not even say that! Oh my word, the very thought of it! We’ll steal back a gold medal you won legitimately because you smoked weeds that probably harmed your performance, if anything, but we don’t mess with football.
The NFL’s biggest stars are conceited thugs, and the ones that aren’t are getting dementia from bashing themselves in the head all the time. Tv providers bend over backward for an opportunity to bend their customers every other way for the obnoxious “package deals” major sport associations force on them. They would love to imply the the very worst thing going on is that a few balls do not have enough air in them once in a while, and get more free press for the biggest adsturbation ceremony of the year in the process, since we have assured everyone that will NOT be called off under any circumstances. Perhaps I DO care, then, but I put effort into it.
I used to write about someone I identified as W, at the time for his sake, now more for mine, that I knew via the stupid furry art websites and was infatuated with, and later hated intensely after I got jealous of the people he liked better than me. Throughout this tenure, when he was not in hiding with an emptied art page, every few days he would post a totally empty “I hope everyone is having a wonderful day!” kind of message on his page, just to give the impression he cared about his disciples, important to do because he didn’t. It worked; I fell for it, after all, so long as I was told individually and not only ever as part of a group. The only time the trance ever broke over the cultists was when W would mention football during his weekly addresses. People were displeased, almost OFFENDED.
The stylesheet is broken because this is an html copy I saved, because at the time I was in a different stage of my huge mental problem and saved EVERYTHING. If you had told me I would be using it to criticize everybody in five years, I might have thought it plausible but I would have been disappointed since at the time I was regretting what I had gotten into five years before then.
Excuse me, this is the INTERNET. We are COOL NERDS. We don’t “do” physical activity. I can’t BELIEVE I need to take time out of lusting after juvenile cartoon rodents to criticize somebody for giving in to an inexplicable base urge for personal enjoyment! I don’t even disagree with his comment and I want to punch this guy, just because it is so pompously-worded and uncalled-for. And later (but before we hated each other) W told me privately that he didn’t even really care about football; he just had to pretend to so he could fit in at work. That is always what he did; whatever he thought would make people like him best, occasionally getting freaked out when it worked too well. He was a military veteran and could not relate to regular people anymore and just pretended to. I am not certain what he factually thought of the sport, but the reaction from others is more relevant. If you like football, people will hate you for that. And if you hate football, other people will hate you for that. And if you just mention it casually people will need to let you know where THEY stand so they do not have to live with thinking you think they think otherwise. And this is not the Gaza Flippety Dippity Strip where there is grey morality and uncertain truth of who is launching more rockets at whom in what order; it’s a stupid game where people move some dumb lump around and usually do not kill anybody. Nazi furries don’t get as much grief as casual football acknowledgers because it seems logical to assume somebody would have called out the nazis before you found them.
Football is just so profoundly stupid and overexposed that every remotely marginalized maniac can unite against its dread destructive oaf force. Organized religion has lost its grasp on right wing mass media, but football is still very there. The police would toss tear gas grenades into your grocery store for having a little Jesus manger hidden in a corner but a cardboard Taj Mahal to football filled with salty crunchy poison right by the entrance is just part of life. In a way I support this resistance, and in another way it seems like the opposing forces have plenty in common. They both think they are best and want the other destroyed. Self-described nerds NEED “jocks” to hate, because otherwise they cannot claim anyone is holding them down. They cannot claim this culture filled with noisy bleepsy hand-held devices with magic powers, “awesome” depressing breakfast foods, inexpensive personalized porn, unlimited sequels to everything and self-contained communities and economies built around just being FANS of stuff is ignoring their interests.
Anyway, I do not see what the big deal is about under-inflated implements. Presumably both sides have to touch the thing.
In summary, I care about everything, especially the things I do not care about.
16 Hollywood Stars & Their Escalator Banisters
I am not certain I agree with that!