possibly a link to the main page, but maybe not
Why, thou art but a moron of the first class. Hit the road!
Is Aeon Flux like Catwoman 2 or something? That's what the advertisements make it look like. So if it is not, in actuality, I should not be faulted for believing and disliking the things that are supposed to make me want to like it, even if I personally acknowledged it may have been an inaccurate message. However, you may still send me cookies if I am correct.
Innng. The year 2004's Cat-Woman was a movie the hyping of which would not have un-possibled a pre-ticket sale sequel to have been financed, so when such a decision might have been revealed to have been a bad one, the time may have been too late to make but the minorest plot and title logo changes. I know the main character does not wear fake ears, but there was a period during the 1970s when the Cat-Woman did not either, choosing leprechaun boots instead.
Of course! I'd know those dastardly buckles anywhere! And really, what's more stealthish than bright red? I'd criticize the practicality of the tail protrusion, but that is probably slightly less of a liability than a cape is. Behind the Cat-Woman's neck is a Dracula style collar extension, not part of an audition for a John Waters movie.
I am informed (not by the movie people, naturally) that Ayfluck is based on a rather unusual and non-trash-amelican-movie-y cartoon series, which was shown on Emmm...TV during a period when it was regarded a special worthwatchable occasion to have non-music related programming. But since Aeon Flux is a trashy Amelican movie now, we see which key it really plucks its dulcimer in. It is also possible, I acknowledge, that this is actually based on and named after the MS-DOS game Flux.
You can see where I would be confused.
How does this man going to Germany and rubbing lima beans and smelling them cause better beer to get made? Even if beer was made from lima beans, which it is not, how would this help? If he had to smell, and rub every bushel of beer lima beans, he would have to live at the beer factory or the bean factory, whichever location he is abusing the beans at. Maybe he alternates to confuse authorities. It would not be profitable to travel thousands of miles or kilometers or whatever to sneeze on beans for every bottle of beer, so he cannot be doing it that often, and if he was only doing it sometimes, and it made any difference that he did that, most of the beer would be horrible. I think he just likes smelling and rubbing beans. And being filmed doing that. Is that so wrong? Yes, it is exactly that wrong. He goes to Germany because every other lima bean exporting country has laws regarding what strange foreign visitors may do to beans before they are sold. I only mentioned confusing "the authorites" before because he's clearly not an employee, and is entering those places illegally. You might be willing to believe he molests beans in addition to building beer, but it simply is not scientifically feasible for one person to have the time to develop the skills to do both things. Whoever this is knows nothing about alcoholic beverage construction, and is not truly affiliated with the Samuel Adams brewing company. He gets to Germany on airplanes by disguising himself as flight-attendant clothing. That is also illegal.
Here's a fun game I like to play whenever I see two different label designs on the same product in the same basket or on the same shelf together: The game is called "Guess Which One is Past its Expiration Date." The best part is that the rules are in the title. You can see that both feature the same bowl of cereal in the same state of milk splashitude, so one, if not both, is long enough past stale as to be totally fixed in place. I win on this particular instance by not purchasing cold cereal from any place with functioning kitchen equipment in the background.
Page 33 and 34 are there. Actually, 33 has been there for a few whiles, but its unpleasantness is such that I wanted to wait until it was not the last page to say anything. I waited quite a while. I have now altered the jpeg compression of worry, and it still bothers me, but it was worse before.
no one had ever seen so many kids with so many headwounds.
Sunday, November 27, 2005|
I need to find some new television shows to put on while I'm dealing with things at night. Too often I find I just want the guests to die. If you need to tell me your half to full-porn photographs in a magazine are "tasteful..." they aren't. If there is such a thing as tasteful porn, it's not going to sell any magazines, especially not Play-Boy magazines, so why bother? You don't bother. I know you better than that. It never happens that way. You were requested to do degarmented poses because whoever is printing the pictures thinks those images will titillate a few strange men who haven't yet figured out how to see that on the internet for free (which means they've never heard of "the internet"). "Tasteful" does not accomplish that, and it probably would not have been stipulated that you undress at all were such a thing not the goal. The one which I named is a pornographic magazine. Everyone knows it is. That's why "I read it for the articles" is a joke punchline rather than a checkbox on a resubscriber's poll. The whole point of pornography is to not be tasteful. That's why things which aren't tasteful used to commonly be referred to as pornography. And a lot of them were not quite nude!
The only people interested in taking non-erotic photographs are artist-type folk who do not have millions of dollars to pay models for it, and even if they did, the artists are not interested in taste either, unless that brown melty substance they smeared all over the developed shots is actually chocolate.
No one who would buy a magazine based on the naked switch setting is going to turn it down on the grounds of not being tasteful enough. "Gawr, geeipe, I'd like some nudie pickshores of Lydior Vilbishnackle, shore, but only if she's torned shideways with har hands on har bewbs." And is that even tasteful? That's just stupid. When would that pose ever come up in real life? Who is thinking "I'll just take off my clothing and walk around in this white void for a few minutes"? I would like to lie on this couch, lick a cherry and glance to my left. It is my hobby.
I should mention that the most recent shiny-paper magazine I own is a Computer Games Strategy Plus from 1998ish. I did. I write this as a failed attempt at public service, not a pathetic plea for better self-service.
I am not saying people whose naked selves are deemed "desirable" should not be allowed to profit from that, only that they should not be allowed to pretend that there's something noble and non porny about it just because they've been on television. Likewise, they should not be allowed to pretend they were invited to be on television for reasons that are noble and non-porny. Carmen Electro and Pam Manderson are not "actresses."
Actually, I've never heard those two claim to be tasteful. I suppose I hate them for pretending to be actresses in addition to whoever I hated for pretending to be tasteful. Yes. Good. May I please leave now?
Ank-Giving is done. Good. If you are not from around here, I should tell you, that is the day out of years which United Statians use to thank all the fine employees at Price Chopper. Price Chopper being something like a foodal equivelant of [the non arboreal stores called] Christmas Tree Shop(s). Because the field of things you put into your mouth and then swallow is where you want to be comprising quality to get lower prices. Also: Every time someone in a Price Chopper advertisement says "Price Chopper," I also say it, in a voice that I consider appropriate for saying those words and nothing else. This occured to me as I was cropping that sound file. Fortunately, it seems, even if you clicked that, you will not be hearing it this time. Be thankful there surely will not be another.
The holiday never had great meaning to me. I could link you to another older, better thing I wrote on the subject, but will not. You find it this time, and see what I have to go through. Eggg. I hate all the traditional foods, as well as the artificial (rather than just superficial) television traditions, oh yes, and the traditional weather. Least of all I like eating turkey meat. You can dress up the outside with as much brown, red and green stuff as you want. It's still the same meat within. Some people have this worse than I do, though:
I recently came into knowledge of a chimeric meat-beast which is created by stuffing a [dead, plucked, beheaded, deboned, deintestined] chicken inside of a [dead, plucked, beheaded, deboned, deintestined, declawed, devious, dastardly] duck, which has itself been stuffed inside of a [ARRRGH, I'VE BEEN SHOT] turkey. The name given, by people who are not me, to this Frankensteinian fowloid was "turducken." Oh, yum. Turducken. I would not eat one whatever it was called, but turducken sounds more like a slang term for diarrhoea than something I would want to eat. Ironic, perhaps, because that is undoubtedly just what it causes. Maybe they should both be called that. Example: "Aw ban, that turducken I ate last night had me turducken all morning!" My brother Iandianapolis was feared to not be coming from wherever he was previously to join the depressing food eating due to a recent illness characterized by certain liquidosolid discharges, and I contemplated suggesting that he has been afflicted with turducken, but thought better of it. The same can not be said for the thing I put on the internet today, however.
I will not say I loathe, but I definitely abhor the advertisement in which the mother of a child mutilates the stuffed bear, it is implied, to replace a previous stuffed bear in the same condition. I hate not just for the "ha ha dumb kids don't know their beloved possessions" implication, but also because the dumb kid of relevance calls the bear "Teddy." I've had a lot of bearish dolls and never once called one that. I imagine you have a dog named Spot and a cat named Boots too, you stupid bowling ball.
The worst part is when the bear's left eye is viciously ripped out. It might even have been the right eye. I found that so horrific to watch, that I have been unable to look on subsequent occasions. Not that I ever set out to see junk I neither want nor can afford whored befored me, but I'm also not going to cower under my bed during every commercial break. It takes too long to get out of there. Hey, Mom (if you are my mother reading this, I am not addressing you). Your acknowledged as stupid kid would love you based on falsehoods even more if you left the eye alone and said you sewed it back on, and I'd have a 15% chance of not waking up screaming tomorrow night. If people are allowed to flea in terror from the yellow gremlin that moves people's toenails but puts them back, I'm valid in being bothered by an eye that gets tossed aside and forgotten entirely, presumably to end up in someone's BK JOE at some point.
I remember, years ago, in my brother Ifalgor's possession, there was a light blue polyesterish figure that I suspect was a bear, but that was always called "Woofwoof" and thus implied to be a dog. Woofwoof got lost a lot. Trying to escape the horrible psychological specist torture, I suppose. Later, as a not yet fully dysfunctional family shopping together, me and others would pass by a whole shelf of Woofwoofs, and Ifalgor didn't have a problem being there to witness one Woofwoof getting picked randomly out of 75 surprisingly clean other woofwoofs. And if ever the old one was found, great, two Woofwoofs equals twice the ah woofwoofery. That's four woofs total.
The product being advertised is the car motherix uses to beat the bear with. You see bear being crushed by the adjustable seating units and actually being driven over. Car is not involved in the eye amputation; hands do that. I guess that's just a bonus for me. The voiceover person says something like whatever motorized shiny box with wheels we are selling
"can help you save the day." That's not just an unfortunate subplot, the car really is being marketed as a stuffed animal capital punishment device. And that's a wonderful reason to buy a car. That's even better than this amazing offer from Empire Carpets.
Buy this rug, we'll give you meat!
Unless the scoundrel imperialists are planning to give live, non-meat turkeys to people, regardless of demand or suitable accomodations. In which event, they are just irresponsible. Especially considering the new carpet.
We can't all help like Destiny's Child
Monday, November 21, 2005|
Unicorns are the worst.
(after that pitiful blue creature above the link-list)
Some people (check the comments, fool) hate mermaids. I do also, but I say (and said) Oh? How about Unicorns? Just some stupid horses with spikes lodged in their skulls. Turn the spike around and maybe I'll be interested. Possibly. I was reminded of this when some antagonistic person was watching a Helly Pothuh film on my television set, and some dorks in the film started going on about how drinking unicorn blood makes people immortal, but killing unicorns is illegal because they're so great. So give one a papercut, then. Surely they can survive that. I did not hear any blood quantity specified, so this ought to suffice. I think they are just selfish. Hey, make the unicorns drink their own blood. They must be stupid if they never thought of that. Especially considering the perils they encounter.
I don't understand why unicorns are regarded as being so special, or even special at all. Like I said, all they have are singular sharp things stuck to their heads, and for what? To give them headaches occasionally? To make it harder to walk under low-hanging tree branches? I'm supposed to give them special treatment because of a stupid disability like that? Walk around the tree, you ignorant goat.
Oh, get over it. You know I didn't mean you.
Pegasus, another horse, didn't get this much attention, and Pegasus could fly. Ehhh, and I needn't mention, but will anyway, that there was only one Pegasus. A recent internet census revealed that there are 13 billion unicorns in the world, making them even less unique than the inspirational message page-per-day calendars of people who like them.
I'm glad I have HP Software Update to keep me informed on all the latest HP software updating softwares. Just think, if I did not have HP Software Update, I might never have known there was an update for HP Software Update. That was the only update available.
Also: that's one of the more honest download time prediction I've ever been given.
Usually the estimate will come to around four minutes by assuming that my modem functions as well as it claims to and also that whatever server the download comes from is not clogged with other idiots misled to believe that this will solve whatever problem the Hewlett Packard diagnostic program inevibtably did not.
If there was a problem that seriously impacted a soft or hardware's ability to work, and they knew about it, why wouldn't they fix it before they sent the things out? To charge money for repairs, yes, but its mostly illegal to sell pre-broken merchandise. And I've actually been over this already. Therefore, Hewlett Packard "help" only answers questions that a total idiot would have. Questions which can, it seems, be answered by suggesting "Make sure the device is plugged in." Hey, that's what I didn't do! I thought that cord was its tail! Not just for show?
Why do I have just as many spoons as forks when I use them half as often? By all logic, I should have more spoons, since I've had less opportunity to lose them. Maybe you thought I was going to say I should have less. So did I.
By the way, the thing I was going to put here, I Ctrl+x cut from my "unfinished fragmental junk" document to Ctrl+v paste here, forgot about it, wrote the title attribute for the divider, realized that was too long, Ctrl+x cut that to put elsewhere, and then could not find what was supposed to go here. When I went to Ctrl+v paste the "content" item, I got some stupid, half-profound line about spoons instead. And now you do as well.
This week's mystery:
WHO KILLED EDDIE GUERRERO?
Last week's mystery:
The three little pigs go to Africa and get involved in apartheid
Sunday, November 13, 2005|
I have not been able to obtain preferable internet circumstances since my father broked one of his arms and began sleeping at night (the "preferable" time of importance) on the couch-furnish near the internet machine, finding his usual bed of discomfort whilst another is in it (no, not me). And then during the not night other people show up and they use internet or get called telephonically by other other people. You might think breaking one's arm is a stupid thing to do, and that's just what I thought, but the word on the street is that it was an accident. That makes more sense.
You may think me insensitive. You may be right. However, I've found that things I seem shallow complaining about usually resolve themselves just to make me seem even more shallow and want to delete things I uploaded here, so we will see how that goes.
While it's long been known my me that I don't get much done online, when I do not go online at all, I get even less done while off of the line.
I deduced that I could probably connect my extendo-telefono cord into this computer, but it does not have an internal modem. Going out and finding then purchasing a modem, and also moving the phone-line twice every time I want to use internet seems like a new problem rather than the solution to an old one. The modem, for an asinine reason to be determined by the store when it sees me outside, will cost two-hundred dollars, or the place will only sell USB modems manufactured last week which my computer will offend into non-operation by displaying exclamation points in yellow circles next to the icons for. What is this thing's problem?
Like that's going to happen.
In other trivial sounding yet cripplingly irritating new informations, I lost my camera, with its 7.6 megabyte memory card, so I have to transfer files between the two computers with the parallel port zip-drive again, which must be plugged in to two places for each location it is used at. And also I had to spend all that time typing this.
I love it. The guy who came up with everlasting gobstoppers, gum that tastes like meat and horatio* that makes people fly now brings us...
DONUTZ. WITH A Z. I guess some people were of the opinion that regular donuts were 1) spelled too correctly and also 2) too nutritious. What with Captain Crunch's Choco Donuts being part of a complete breakfast and all, you know. OOPS indeed.
*I have not seen the film for some amount of years and do not recall specifically which object caused people to fly. It may have been horatio.
I see no need to be "respectful" at dull award ceremonies, because it is by no god's will that they become that boring. All there is to blame, as usual, are generations of humans thoughtlessly following traditions nobody can recall the entirely obsolete origins of. No one cares about your speech, probably not even you. Why should I wait through and applaud following something that benefited and was enjoyed by no one? The world does not require it. I've graduated a few times, and I didn't even respect my own dealing with it. I managed to elude entirely the second one. On neither occasion did I, and on no future occasion will I wear one of those stupid hats. Further, I protest the otherwise entirely unquestioned playing and conformist editing of Whatzisname's Pomp & Circumstance. It is supposed to start with an exciting part, and then segue into the boring part I all know and hate when it appears on its own. Later, the exciting part starts up again and once more transitions into the boring part, but it doesn't seem as boring when presented in this way, due to the balance. I don't mind it like that. However, every time in my life I've heard it played at the choosing of anyone other than me, the two parts which give it balance are removed, and the whole thing falls off the rope. Why is that? Why do people insist on making it fall off the rope? Do they have an answer? I don't think they do. They just do it because they think Randy "Macho Man" Savage will smite them if they don't. Well, he will not. Believe me, if he has an issue with your behaviour, he will record a sternly-worded rap album first to put you on notice. Until he does that, assume he does not have a problem. With you, I mean.
I love when people say things like "This has been a long two years." It sure has! It felt like, gosh, almost 730 days! Oyf, remember that time two years was only 520 days? That sure seemed a lot shorter. Hey, this sure is a warm 70 degree temperature we have right now. It feels like almost 21.11 degrees celsius in here.
Why are there always several forklogans in the audience filming travesties like this? It's not entertaining, and any attempts at entertainment are either unrehearsed and awkward or just lamish. I did not like the song I Believe I can Fly when whoever originally sang it did. I certainly don't like your less good version that I have to stay in an uncomfortable chair and get nothing done during. Once more, I will not applaud your deliberate attempt to annoy me. And the rest of the time people are just talking. The whole thing is boring. I doubt you filming want to see it again. I know for certain that I do not want to see it again. Whoever you are there to "support" was probably only visible briefly, or for a prolonged period just waiting, so that person likely would not be interested also.
An event that would be worth recording, I think:
I will beat this joke into a fine powder and then sell it by the gram to stupid Madison kids.
What do people switching to Capital One, for whatever it does, have to do with ancient vikings existing in a modern city far away from where they actually lived? Good for them, they need new jobs. I would explain how this is an obvious rip-off of story two from Garfield: His Nine Lives, but in order to do that I would have to admit to owning it or at least find the book somewhere among the other things I own, and neither of those look like they're going to happen, so don't read this sentence. The joke, in the advertisement, is that they can't run at people who aren't using Capital One now, because so many people switched to it, but who was paying the vikings to do that? And how, logically, did Capital One prevent it? Is Capital One claiming that owning their mysterious object makes one immune to axe blades and flame-tipped arrows? If not that, why are the vikings armed at all, or even vikings? How are they more suited to the task of running at people using credit cards than, say, ducks? And how does any of this pertain to David Spade making people say "no?" Or turtles? And why didn't they get Nancy Reagan on the case?
Ehhh, if so many people have "switched to" Capital 1 that finding people who have not is difficult, why air the ads so much? Clearly, there's no one left, so go away. Stop bothering me. Capital 1 is the number one movie in the country. Hooray for you. What's in your wallet? A lot of cash, oh.
Wouldn't that be really pathetic if NBC only made that Best of David Spade show to try to cash in on this series? Yes. But they probably did it to cash in on Showbiz Show with David Spade, which actually premiered [and possibly was cancelled] about that time. But I'm just saying.
I don't even own a wallet. Why would he ask me that? I thought he worked for a competitor. Is he with the pick-pocket union independent of his day employment? With all the advertisements, you'd think there'd be enough in his wallet to buy a whole sweater.
I do not know what Capital One is. The only way I would find out would be if I specifically set out to pay attention to what people in the commercial bits were talking about, which I won't do, because it's the advertiser's job to oversaturate me with subliminal messages, and if they fail, great, because I don't want to spend money. Even though, then, it is their problem, I complain because the ads, however I don't understand them, are annoying and seem to think they are quite clever. If I've been seeing the same type of junk from them for over a year and can't figure it out without putting on my bifocals and studying the actual eight millimeter film or whatever frame by frame, it is my right to call them wrong, because it is my personal opinion that I look stupid wearing bifocals.
As long as I'm on the subject, what's the deal with those rectangle framed glasses all the kids wear these days? I guess that's the new "thing," to listen to whiny bands, inflect statements so they sound like questions? and look like Ben Franklin.
But! Regarding what specifically Capital One is, my closest guess, judging by the operation of my computer keyboard, is that it is an exclamation point. And I already have plenty of those, regardless of their wallet occupancy.
Conan and Tarja: like two berries
I don't understand "smileys." Not the little ones (which I hate, but understand); the huge beastful ones that always attack me when I seek word definitions from reference.com. There is no reason for them to always be yellow and perfectly circular. It made sense when in reference to the "have a nice day" head, which was yellow and perfectly circular, even if that itself was entirely nonsensical. However, that thing had vaguely defined characteristics, one shade of yellow, and no hands. These look more like Pac-people. And those did not originally have hands, either! Arrrgh, someone must answer for this!
Why does it need to be the next generation? Why can we not wait for them to be the current generation? You're playing god, people!
I hate this one the most, because it is animated (in the actual system resource raping flash-based advertisement), but only looks like it is saying "wlehhh, wlahhh." I do not need to see it saying that! Also, the hands keep repeating the same motion, and guitar music on its own is bad anyway, so whatever is accompanying wlehhh wlahhh is probably even worse. I suppose we should be glad that this one is not plugged in to an electrical outlet.
How does that advertisement make money? I assume it is somehow selling these things, but who wants them, nevermind that badly? Is this a big business? Who out there is sending instant messages and thinks "this is a pointless, unproductive, unenjoyable waste of time, yes, but I just wish there was some way to make it uglier. I would pay money for that." ?
Whoy? I certainly do not want to hear them saying "wlehhh wlahhh." Bah. A two to four byte punctuation combination is now a 600 kilobyte tumorous jaundiced decapitee. ):[
This one means "my distorted outer and inner facial features leave me in constant pain."
This one means "I like the way the ground tastes." I guess people feel this way often enough that they needed an easier way to say it.
Why don't the other ones have lips? I know eyelashes can be faked, but articial lips seem like they would be hard to manage. Especially for things which, as we have seen, have much wider mouths than that. I doubt this one can brush all its teeth.
And what is this thing? It's not even yellow, but still perfectly round, where its head is concerned. It looks like it removed its skull, tried to swallow a bowling ball and failed. The scientific name for all these objects is "emote-icon," but what emotion is this even expressing? Sadness due to lacking the strength to support one's own head while standing?
Also, this, and the others, are hardly icons. They're much too big. The largest Windows-usable icons I've found were 64x64, a bit more than half this size, and even those I've never known anyone to be using. The only possibility is that "icon" is meant in the "well known figure that us peasants aspire to be like" sense of the word, and I can tell you that I hardly wish I was capable of removing my skull, trying to eat a bowling ball and failing.
Why do my arms itch after I sneeze? Is that a sign I am the chosen one? The one chosen to itch?
Oh, These Green Eyeses' "CD Launch" show for the album "House of Glass," which had been planned, announced and coated in caramel two months in advance, was "cancelled" by secret political maneuvering or something by the show-place's "council" of dopes, and the band members were not "told" until Thursday, the day before they were to put on the show, Friday. That could have been more than one sentence. Usually I do not whine about local things which do not affect me or that I cannot make a mean-spirited comment about. However, since my elderest brother is in the band, and this was to be a significant event, that means there is 5% less chance of them becoming nationally famous and my brother who is in the band buying me expensive things, so there, it is relevant. So there! I already said "so there," didn't I. And now again! Is it... an addiction?
You never hear about the white man who wanted Rosa Parks' place on The Bus, so many years ago. He is mentioned just as often; it's kind of hard to tell the story without doing that, and yet no one seems to know what his name is. He could have gone to the first available space on his own, but no! He stood up for the unjust right he believed himself to possess, and in so doing presented an opportunity for Ms. Parks to totally disregard it! What happened to that man? Is he dead? If so, since when? He is a major civil rights figure! Do you realize that if a black man had ordered Rosa Parks to move, he probably would have been attacked by several white men, and Ms. Parks would not even have been mentioned in the ignored police report in the event any officers showed up! This is disgraceful!
We have frankforters, we have hamburgers... why not stockholmers and copenhageners? Besides how stupid they sound, I mean. Present your answer in the form of a tortoise.