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You don't love me. You love crime.
I hate the advertisement where the doof says something like "we first give all our ideas to the bankers, and if they don't like one, that means it's a good idea!" trying to be really clever and pretending to be on my side.
What he then suggests to a rambunctious posse of aged business suit men is something like "should we waive 1 overdraft fee per year?" And then the men shout out things like "bah! Foolishness! Preposterous! Balderdash!" But why stop at one? They'd say the same thing if you proposed waiving all overdrafts, wouldn't they? In fact, they'd hate that even more than just one, making it an even better idea, right? I am incredibly disappointed at you for aiming so low. Also, by that theory, if you said to them "hey, let's abort every baby, reinstitute slavery and make incest mandatory" they'd all be enthralled and enthused. So say that to them and prove you right and me wrong! Attempt to redeem yourself for your past failure! But you won't, because you're a liar and just as much a crook as all of them. They pay your salary, after all. Whore.
Ads are full of plot fissures, and they come on all the time! Why don't more people notice them? People can watch a three hour movie one time and have a complete list of minor errors, yet junk like this regularly goes unacknowledged. I don't know why I worry about insignificant background inconsistencies between panels you'll only look at once, if ever, when massive fundamental failures like these get past multiple committees before ever being aired, and then are aired for weeks with no edits. Sometimes they go on for years, and the only thing that changes will be someone's voice because the original voice demanded an extra nickel per showing.
There's another where some dork on a skateboard does something dorky and then says to a pizza courier "hand over that X L P, bro," and then Bro hands the P over and leaves without being paid! That's a tremendous gaffe! Not only does it rip off his business (otherwise I'd say nothing, since they probably deserve it), but he rips himself off by not waiting for a tip! 'Tis false advertising! I would have to pay! In the hypothetical instance that I ever ordered a domino pizza. And while it is common to abbreviate "extra large" with "xl," I refuse to believe anyone calls pizza "p." There's too much that could go wrong. If you asked for P, you might get peas instead! Or... I can't think of anything else, but peas are bad enough.
Ah, errrgh. Some oaf man is warned by his apprentice oaf "The Guys are coming over to watch The Game! Aren't you worried about them drinking all The Beer?" He actually says "Bud Light," but I prefer him consistently vague. The other responds "fear not, meeply. I have devised a scheme to protect my most prized possession!" And then activates a mechanism which spins around the wall and floor section the refrigerator seems to be affixed to (it doesn't even slide at all) and an inconspicuous table with chairs, also firmly nailed, appears in the space. The camera then magically passes through the wall (like in the Legend of Zelda second quest) to reveal where the refrigerator went.
"Guys (not The Guys), hurry up! The magic frij is back!" calls a random punk in that vicinity, like he, and whoever he is saying that to, have seen it before (but not wondered where their table with chairs went or why they were nailed to the floor which now has a semicircle cut around that section). They knew right away that beer was inside; the speaker is already plundering it as he speaks, which indicates that his miniature hippie commune has plundered it before. Wouldn't, then, the person who owns the beer have noticed beer missing after the last time he used the trick, and thought not to try it again without making further modifications? And he must have gone into the other apartment to have the spinning floor installed, nail the table to it, and also to get a general look at the other side, to make sure it wouldn't look out of place where his refrigerator should be. And wouldn't it be easier as well as less likely to offend The Guys to lock the box and tell them you don't trust them than to try convincing them you just don't have one anymore? Is it even worth not offending such bad guests? Now that I think of it, they might not even be invited. All I heard was that they were coming. Like a thunderstorm or Santa Claus or the Langoliers. This summer! The Guys! Are Coming! For your light beer!
Skittles, I say let them have it and drink some real beer while they're distracted. Or how about some water, you lousy lush. This is not necessarily a plothole, but it should be: the only thing in the refrigerator is the beer. I'm hardly an expert on oaf cuisine, but shouldn't there be some meat in there? Some jerky or some mutton, perhaps? Possibly strangest of all, this is an advertisement for beer, light beer, whatever it even means for beer to be light (not dark), instead of spinning floor-wall technology. I wish I had one of those in my house! That's much more convenient than manually pushing this bookcase around to get to my bat-pole. Or my other books.
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I deem this an inappropriate character to represent the task of engaging breast cancer in savage, bloody combat. First of all, it lacks breasts. Second of all, if it had breasts, it would be even worse. That it's shaped like a silicone implant is quite bad enough. Also, in addition to possessing attributes which would render consumption of it a meat-eating act, it is green, whereas the rest of the m&ms are pink. So either those are radioactive or their elected official is moldened. That can't be good for business.
I suggest, instead, having no character whatsoever, and further, not expecting me to a believe that buying M&Ms somehow constitutes following the instructions to help in that fight. This false form of selflessness has happened before and will happen again, but hopefully it won't have a creepy mascot next time, as I have just gotten through suggesting.
Interesting to me is that both of these are fake shows of battling boob botherment (observant observers will note that the linked object[s] occurred over a year ago yet breast cancer still exists) are used to sell sugary snack-type products. I'd try to make some sort of connection here but I want to go to sleep. All I can come up with is that these products actually cause breast cancer, the "25 cents up to $250000" goes completely to the M&M company, and the only reason they claim a willingness to give so little is just to further mock anyone dumb enough to think that would matter. Sure, we could say we're donating 100% of the proceeds to no limit amount, since we keep it all anyway, but wouldn't it be hilarious if we only said we were giving a tiny bit, to an extent, and that we intend to stop by a certain date, and they still fell for it? Especially if we have this being said by a little character that we totally mean to demean our target consumer with the sight of! Ha ha ha, being evil is so much fun!
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April 20th, a historic day in 2006: The first lawnmower of Spring. The season of noisy, futile, unquestioned conformity to a rule which doesn't exist is in full ah mow.
Also, why do people say "an historic" all the time? Could someone explain that grammar exception to me? If yes, don't bother, because I don't believe it is necessary and hate the way it sounds. Just like lawnmowers. Ooh, thnapsels! See what I did there?
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life's too short to just be going around busting goop all the time
In the meanwhiletime,
come to Subway, where we lie about the size of our sandwiches and spill your drink, but not before splashing you by dropping additional ice cubes into the cup after we have filled it. If you're still around after that, we eat your chips in front of you.
Also, not far from that particular Subway, excuse me, SUBWAY RESTAURANTS, there is a place called "Nail Nook." I wonder if it is run by eskeemos.
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Do you remember the good old days when a horrible, horrid, disgusting mistake of a cartoon character could only be viewed from as many angles as someone could stand drawing it from? Now you just close your eyes and throw some spheres together and suddenly you can send the wretched abomination at people from realistic perpectives and have it move around in realistic dimensions, you can zoom in on it and spin around it, so that it almost seems fathomable that the thing exists.
These two things are selling some kind of non-prescription allergy medication (Nasonex), and while pheremone detection is extremely important to the proper functioning of insects, so much that international researchers have sought ways to inhibit this in dealing with overpopulations, bees (I deduce they are bees not from any resemblance they have to real bees, but merely the uncontrollable desire I have to throw rocks at their nest) detect scents with resilient antennae rather than easily congestable nasal corridors, and thus are not trustworthy examples of the benificial effects of the medication. In the event the two beasts featured here have been afflicted by one of the new insecticides, it is highly unlikely they would exhibit this by sneezing or that the problem they did have would be alleviated by using this product. As long as they're here, though, I highly suggest we step on them.
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S. Colbert was off last week, so I watched Nightline again. Oh, why?
It recently has seemed quite obsessed with some rape/possible coverup which occurred at some school somewhere. The first time was to tell me about it. The second time was just to tell me that they didn't know anything else. The third time was to tell me that they hoped to know something by Monday. I pleaded to the unhearing then, How about you wait until you do know something, and tell me then, if it possibly affects any aspect of my life in anyway. And then on Monday (I'll explain how I came to see this some other time, maybe) they told me about the SECRET indictments. Two men have been incriminated, but no one knows who. Ey! If you don't have facts, don't waste my time telling me that and speculating about what might have happened or what it might mean! Similarly, don't waste my time asking doohickey diaperbrains on the street what their guesses are if they know just as much as you do.
I do not attend the duke's university, I can't afford to. I can't even afford the count or baron university. (well, maybe I could afford the Baran Institute of Technology). I also don't live near the place, don't play lacrosse, don't work for a student newspaper (or believe anyone reads them), and I haven't been raped recently. Maybe it matters more than the Howard Johnsons' of our world being converted into International Houses of Pancakery, but they only reported on that once. This has been reported on many times. It does not matter as much as it is made to seem like it does! Is race an issue? I doubt it. Or at least I doubt it was in the crime; (if we do not regard media self-retardation as a crime) it certainly is in the coverage I've seen. Once you ask "is race an issue?" you've made race an issue. Certainly, if you are of the same as the victim, it's in your own best interest to make race an issue. Yes, let's gather together in big rooms with people whose skin has the same gamma correction as ours and get mad for the camera! Are college sports players given special treatment and allowed to get away with things they shouldn't? Yes, all the time, for a very long time. They shouldn't need to be referenced in the context of "rape conspiracy" to make you see that.
To its credit, Nightline did follow this with informative pieces about past and potential future San Fran Cisco earthquakes and also a man working to free Chinese prisoners of questionable sinistry. However, it preceded those segments with a horribly annoying one about a Duke University rape scandal. Oh ho, elliptical logic!
I imagine Fox News, CNN, News Weasels, all of them, were much more persistent on this topic and much less informative for the time used, and also that they're probably still at it. However, I would never watch them, and everyone expects that from them. I criticize Nightline because i know it should know better. Also, it makes me appear more intellectual than when I complain about certain other local-affiliate shows which hover about the same timeslot.
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I'm sure, if he were alive to see it, Joe Borc would be touched emotionally and deeply so by this honorable tribute. Although, I suppose, were he alive, you wouldn't have bothered. Poor old Joe Borc, known as MACHO Q-Tip to his friends, cut down in his prime at the age of 81. The initial coroner's report indicates the cause of death as effete earwax.
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I failed to stop making pages like this. I could possibly make it good if I left it alone and tried again a year from now. However, if I failed then, I wouldn't have any excuses left. Besides that, I don't want to have to go through and change tenses and such after foretold events have happened.
I wish I would read more books.
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Worst, Friday, Ever, April 14, 2006 |
Marshmallows are 100% nerve gas
I... I don't understand.
I still don't understand.
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Here's an idea, for future reference, to save you money on those fancy labels: Instead of LADIES and GENTLEMEN, just use one that says "restroom" on it (or "water closet," if you like that sort of thing).
On this subject, almost,
if I am walking past a man-designated restroom, I should not need to see urinals in use, from any side, if a person happens to be exiting from the room as I move through the outlying vicinity.
Why can we not agree to install those dreadful objects into the furthest away wall from the entrance? Uih, why do people use those things at all? How much time are they saving, really? Is this time worth the possibility of someone seeing you grasping at they-know-exactly-what? And also, it seems to me that if something wet comes out of something else, whatever that is will also be wet. But what to do about that? If there are any at all, "paper" towels will generally be an unreasonable distance away, of unnecessary size and undesirable coarseness. Alas, the process leading to The Wetness is not one that people ever choose to stop doing, and so a great amount of small quantities of wetness are being absorbed by one's clothing over time. Am I the only person who thinks about this? Was I before I made you think about it? Would you have preferred I had not done that?
Some of those amonial dampitude enthusiasts do not even wash their hands. That's the real time saver, I suppose. While I believe they could accomplish the first deed without touching anything, a fact of this matter is that most of them haven't thought of that. Ehhh, but I think even if you only go in there to write something inspirational on a wall,
you've at least touched the door, and you'd do well to get equipped with bubble-loaf (soap, I mean). Most places have bubble-slime instead, though. Avoid those places.
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Say NO to reading and YES to child abducting.
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I keep hearing about PSP, like it's something new. Hogwash, I say. Hogrinse, even. It lacks soap. I've known about PSP for maybe eight years now.
 I've been using it since I started.
By the way, the minimally animated squirrels/baseballs/anthropomorph'd tangles of used dental floss who shout random things?
I'm sure there's 80 livejournal which-are-you polls/deviantart fancharacters/myspace comment ready pictures-with-catchphrases for them by now, and while I can't even stay on the internet for longer than 30 consecutive minutes per day anymore, meaning I won't have time to accidentally bump into any of them, still that is all the more reason I should not feel bad about dismissing them without giving specific reasons for doing so. If they won't spare the slightest effort, why should I? It's enough to say they're terrible. Also: how hard is it to make directional controls with real diagonal inputtery?
The ancient Segans did that almost twenty years ago. Before they even discovered Start Button technology! Was their self-imposed isolation, attempting to guard the secret, the reason their civilization died out? Or was it Spaniards again?
Another possibility: The screen resolution on a PSP is 480 x 272 pixels, at the 16.9 aspect ratio. Sources tell this reporter that it was originally only going to have been 480 x 240 at 16.8, but Sony thought that would look too unimpressive after the figure was reduced to 2.1.
It is possible that with very little time remaining to make changes before the date on which the things were to be shipped, Sony sold the diagonal controls for extra horizontal rows.
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I like this page of this better than the last one, so you don't even have to.
Having said that, which I have, I altered the previous page slightly so I like it more than I did, and have not yet made calculations to measure how much I like it in comparison to the new page.
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Cool, cool, cool; COOL TOOLS!
Why do daylight-saving-time-system fans always order me to lose an hour of sleep? I will sleep as much as before! I may, however, if time does insist, loan out an hour of awake, to be repayed to me on some later date, chosen entirely at the time's leisure.
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All i know about the initial Basic Instinct, the basic Basic Instinct, is that Sharon Stone displays a certain thing which is usually not displayed during one small part of the film. Seriously, the only context I have ever heard Basic Instinct mentioned in is that of Sharon Stone flashing her turn signal or whatever the the euphemism is these days. Likewise, the only context I have ever heard Sharon Stone mentioned in is that of what she did in Basic Instinct. Fourteen years ago! From the looks of advertising for the sequel, this year, that's the whole flupping movie (except older). "They" are selling a movie entirely on an aspect of it which is minimal if at all evident. 
ATTENTION STUPID MAN MEN THIS IS MEANT TO GET THE ATTENTION OF: Basic Instinct 2 is not 90 minutes of Sharon Stone doing the *n Sync chair dance! R-Rated movies are not fully pornable and public mastorbation is illegal anyway! (at least outside Montana) If you are on the internet and able to see this or the flash-based advertisement I copied these pictures from, surely there's something far dirtier, closer to you, for less than $9. If I'm wrong, and that is the whole movie, then it's probably pretty awful.
After I put this here and doomed the movie to its miserable ticket sales, I heard a person claim that no one saw the movie because Sharon Stone is too old, but I still say it's because the movie is too stupid, and that it wouldn't be worth seeing regardless of how much closer she might be to a fetus.
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| Another two days elapsed and again I have nothing finished. Yes, indeed, forsooth, verily that is the last thing I put here, still visible below the current location. How embarrassing. I suppose a good sign is that I actually prepared this here two weeks ago, and then suddenly came up with something else in time to not have to use this then. The good old days. | 
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Did Dr. Sue Johannsen eat Dr. Ruth Westenheimer? Are we only allowed one annoying old lady "sexpert" at a time? Is this for our protection or theirs (from me stalking and throwing beets and boots at them if pushed too far)?
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The Munchkin sez:
 Well, howdy-doodle-doo! I'm The Munchkin! Follow the yellow brick road! Ha ha, no, I'm not that kind of munchkin. Nor would I want to be! The actors who portrayed them ended up in their state through no planning whatsoever. I, however, was developed! Sure, from a chance mutation, you say, but that was long ago! Chance has long since exited the equation! Someone intended for me to look like this! My mother, AKA my sister, was specifically chosen from her litter (the rest were deaf, blind or bipolar and were sold to a White Castle) to be dropped in a cage with my father so that they would mate. And you know that they would; the forced interfamilial breeding has been going on for so long, centuries, even, our species (not just munchkins!) now lacks the natural, instinctual reluctance to do so! Also, the breeders weren't going to let my parents out of the cage until they got it awn. Believe me, deprive yourself of food for long enough and you start wishing you had kittens around just so you could eat them. If you think about it for too long you realize it makes no sense, but it's a good enough motivator that you're done by then. So Ma, Pa and Sis (all two of them) came together in a confused, hallucinating, scholarly way to form me, the zenith of years of research, thought and experimentation. You doubt the existence of Intelligent Design? Oh, but thou art such a fool. That I epitomize over all else, regardless of who is playing the part of God. No "undesirable" traits here! No "uneven" or "mixed" markings, no "non preferred" green eyes, no "basic immunity to diseases," no "legs." In fact, I don't even have hind feet! I'm like a seal or something. Except I'd probably freeze to death in arctic waters on account of my fur or starve to death on account of my hereditary allergy to fish. Could I be more perfect? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have official Munchkin business to tend to with my mother/sister.
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Achtung: the above message does not necessarily reflect the thoughts or words of The Munchkin. You should not be so gullible! |
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Try to find the "Magic Eye" picture hidden in this background before the rest of the page shows up.
