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One week after too late, March 24, 2005 |
All my gut tells me is to digest food
As of one week ago, I am officially too old to spend this much time exclusively on things which benefit no one. That doesn't mean I'll stop, only that I'll regret it slightly more.
This year, I did not receive any internet birth's date greetings. I hadn't done anything that should give me reason to think I deserved one, but I at least expected a few of those happy birthday from emotionless date-checking computer program run by some cliquey internet messageboard delusively calling itself "community" you signed up at in a prolonged moment of weakness! Beside the way, if you happen to run any of those, do us both a favor and ban whatever name I registered. If you're not sure which, it would probably be any that link to this page in their "member profiles." If I am able to register a new one, because of the dynamic compuserve IP address handling, ban that too (dynamic IP means it's different every time, which, if you have the power to ban people, you ought to know, you slog). Don't try to "warn" me or advise me on the proper etiquette, since I have no intentions of getting along with anyone. If I ask a question which makes me look confused and in need of help, it is you who is confused and, not so much in need of getting my joke, because that would deprive it of value to me, but rather in need of getting my impertinent, incorrigible wretchness banned, you stupid bicycle. I have better things to do than make those posts, and you potentially could have better things to do than impotently reply to them.
Now that I'm on the verge of the subject, making fun of l337 languagers on a regular, constant basis isn't funny because they haven't existed for six years. I tried that game myself back in 2000, as in: almost as long ago, and no one laughed then, either. It just looks like you yourself speak that way. You probably think you're making fun of people who thought they were making fun of someone else who also wasn't sincere. Your irony has folded in upon itself. Similarly, your use of the prefix "teh" and the suffix "of dooom" are not mocking anyone, but rather making you look like you truly think that's a good description. And if you do, that's probably even worse. Duck, you sicken me.
I was thinking a while back that for this occasion I should finally break down (further) and pay money to get the good webspace. Not for your sake, but mine. If it was for you I'd do it on your birthday. That doesn't really matter, since I didn't do it.
I know the first time I said I was out of room here, I deleted a bunch of unused sound files, and the time after that it was images for some awful comic from I made in 2001, incidentally the thing I initially registered this space and made my mother buy acquired a scanner for on this very same day. A week ago. You'll notice, because I'm saying so, that in referring to the comic, I omit "strip," because it wasn't even that stable. If you've ever seen, on the internet, an angry stick figure badly homaging a scene from Spaceballs with a green recolored Sonic Hedgehog-wearing-Metroid-armor, at least it was in a nice and tidy rectangle, readable from left to right. In addition to being unfunny, the thing I made lost all shape and sequence in less than three pages. I was thinking maybe I'd explain that this summer, and you know how dependable my hypothetical future self always is. Right, so the next time I'm out of room I really will be, and then you'll see some championship whimpering. Watch for it!
Haven't the past years' infatuation with the phrase "game over" been enough? I'm tired of idiot corporations abusing my nostalgia for their own profit. I can just imagine
tired of hearing 'not enough golds' when it comes to car insurance? With Geico, welcome to bonus stage!
Or, or..
Priceline.com is beyond the cave of northwest. Master using it and you can have lower prices on airline tickets! (that's pretty bad. I'm glad I'm only reporting this.)
You spoony bard! Get equipped with toaster. You evolve "Poptarts."
Don't shoot the food. What do ya say! Try buying from Lee's Famous Recipe!
U CRAPPIN' BAD! With Ex-Lax, move "bowels" for great justice.(I can't believe the crassness of these people)
Worried about funeral expenses? Don't get a silk bag from the graveyard duck; rise from your grave to Halifax Regional Crematorium cremation alternatives!
This can only end badly. Even worse if I'm advised to try hard mode or again with my friend.
Actually, it's not just limited to evil corporations. Even evil fringe associations are getting in on the side-scrolling action adventure.
"White, MegaKlan! White, for everlasting peace!"
More on this hopefully never.
Another noise.
Sunday, on This Week,(presumably a television program) on the second anniversary of the war in Iraq, secretary of defense Donald Rumsfeld and senator John McCain, on baseball and steroids.
Naturally. What else would two influential government officials possibly talk about on a day specifically denoted as being when a yet unfinished war had started? I have no idea. ABC always has its priorities in order. I only wanted you to hear that sound of an object falling over. Specifically, my left, randomly functioning (I wonder why) computer speaker.
I should stop blaming movie industries for stuff like ROBOTTH. The lack of creativity of the buying public will be reflected in the films they choose to see. If the only way they will watch a movie about robots is if the robots are depicted as completely anthrophomorphous, four-limbed, facial-featured, male and female domestic drones who keep nuclear families and choose Bicentennial Man as their robot role model, those are the movies which will be made. I should accept this because it will not change.
It does make me mad, though, even if that is the funniest film in two and a half months of indispensable classics like Hitch and The Pacifier. It's one thing to give that treatment to characters based on earth creature beings, whether they be squirrels or ducks or fish, which have a biological need for reproduction, but there's no fundamental logic behind a world of she-he robots, and it additionally doesn't seem like this illogic is intentional and regarded as a source of self-ridicule. The people responsible don't even realize how stupid it is. They don't see anything wrong with giving the "woman" robots metal extensions on their "heads" in the shapes of human hairstyles but leaving the "man" robots "bald." It's enough to make me want to spray porcupine "urine" into my "eyes." I kept mostly quiet about this when they were doing it with ants, to say whose social structure employs different gender roles and hardly encourages interpersonal relationships would be an understatement, but I'm nothing less than offended that they'd try to soil the good name of robots. Video games, superheroes, insects, monsters, deep sea life and now robots... It seems like these people won't stop until they've taken every aspect of the world or that imagined with a bit of mystery to it; every subject the least bit unique to make a feature film about, and presented them in typified, homogenous, ABC prime-time Friday night lineup form. For them, The Jetsons was the pinnacle of American visual media in all ways but that it is two dimensional. Next time it will probably be the secret, surprisingly allegorious lives of space aliens or public domain children's book characters. Ehhh? What? Criminy.
I'm glad they always mention it's from the makers of ICE AGE: for one thing, all movies in this genre look identical and employ the same script formulas, so the only way to know who made what is to be told so many, many times. Also, Ice Age is the one among them which I haven't specifically complained about, so this recent endeavor makes up for it. It's almost as if ROBOTS' first goal was to compensate for the previous movie's lack of immediatly apparent, outstanding, uniquely atrocious elements, so that I might be annoyed and moved to words this time.
I think I must have a point if I keep coming back to this. Look, I didn't even mention the horrid computer animation this time. Or that movie about the troll. What? Well, that didn't count, and neither does this. I'll even say something positive. I think, at least, metal things befit the format better than organic things do. Every clip of computer generated humans I've seen has them looking phony and badly proportioned. As opposed, of course, to the hand-drawn ones, which look angular and repulsively stylized. The ones that aren't angular are badly drawn and vulgar. It seems I hate any form of American animation which makes money. That was pretty positive for me.
You may consider it hypocritical that I criticize this system of robotery yet have been known to play Megaman games which do many of the same things. If you think this, first of all, how dare you, and second, let me tell you that, unless this person was writing the script, I'd snort half a gallon of coke syrup before I'd watch a Megaman cartoon, and I don't even know where to purchase that substance, so I won't be starting any time in the forseeable future.
It seems that Kelsey Grahamcracker will not, in fact, be performing sketches on Kelsily Grambor Presents The Sketch Show. While, for the sake of the program itself, this is good, it hardly validates his name being in the title, and actually makes that aspect even more mysterious. His name is there because he is one of the executive producers of the show. Kelsey Gramophone's name appears exclusively either because he demanded that or the people who work at FOX network are morons. Or perhaps both sides met halfway and worked out a compromise deal on that. Consider that Donald Trump, a commercial whore/masturbateur, who probably writes his name on food before eating it, is content to have a television show (which he actually appears on), just called The Apprentice.
I mentioned Davias Chapele before (which I tell you because if you have known you've surely forgotten), and how shows like his are usually cancelled. Even if I'd like to grate and melt most of the people who watch it, I'm glad for Chappele, really, that he was at last able to achieve the success he deserved. It might be argued that cowriting and starring in a feature film with a nationwide theatrical release that achieved a cult following counts as success, but understand that cult followings are not big ticket buyers. They'll wait for the video release, one member who has a job will purchase a copy, and then that will spend the rest of its functional existence in perpetual borrowance. Cult followings are generally comprised of losers who love to quote things, but there are different types. For example, you wouldn't confuse a woman-fearing Monty Python cult with a man-ignoring Xena: Warrior Princess cult. Half Baked managed to win the affection of the don't-yet-realize-they've-given-up-on-life cult. The sort that cheers inanely every time the existence of alchohol, marijuana or swear words are acknowledged on film. The kind that's probably passed out drunk for two thirds of the movie so they don't realize how boring it is. I don't consider this cult an accomplishment because I could get my own just by typing the number "69" in an AOL chatroom. They aren't hard to impress. That's why they're named after people who will drink poisoned Kool-Aid at the command of the first person to come along with a pendant and fancy mustache. I don't like to think Dave Chapelle feels a sense of accomplishment from the approval of these fans, no. It wasn't until Comedy Central gave him a fifty million dollar contract to not make any more episodes for whyever that he knew he'd done something. There are a lot of things that are hilarious in five minute sketches, but once you try to incorporate an original plot that lasts sixteen such periods, the whole setup is ruined.
How is it I wrote all that today, yet struggle to conclude shorter things from ages ago? Don't shout out if you know the answer, just write it down.
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The Day Before Thursday, March 17, 2005 |
Paddy is not a saint. Paddy is where rice is grown.
I saw part of the re-airing of the more recent Queen Lateefuh Saturday Night Live program not incredibly long ago, and guess what she did? No, not have at least one line inserted into the script in which another character extorts her physical attractiveness. Not during the portion I saw, anyway. At least on that show, it might only be John Goodman who gets to do that. So no, this time it was a McHammer reference. I don't think that edition of the show was from too long before November, so it's certainly within that period I mentioned the other time. Strangely, just about the same span of time that Martha Stewart was imprisoned. Clearly, she possesses a power which supresses this inexcusable behaviour. This is why her aides were unable to warn her "U can't touch insider trading." One good thing to come out my recent experience: I think I have figured out what bothers me so much. As a person who regarded U Can't Touch This as being on level with Ninja Turtles and Skittles when I first heard it, I now can percieve a very irritating yet somehow easily overlooked characteristic which the joke attempts all have in common: The joke attemptor says "neh, neh neh neh can't touch this!" There should be a pause, a weird organ noise and then (optionally) a U between the last "neh" and "can't touch this." They intentionally omit this first, just to annoy me, and second because whatever hack they're ripping off also omitted it. Compare and contrast. It just sounds wrong. It should, because it is! And imagine how many I'm not hearing. I bet these things are all over those Will and Grace and Zoey and Duncan and Heinz and Kato and Ken and Kaelin and a Pizza Place shows. If I regarded any one highly enough to watch it, I'd hypothetically be highly disappointed.
That same Saturday, I also took sight of an unfortunate advertisement vague enough that I suspect for me to know more about would deprive the following passage of potential merit, so I'll say it now before that happens. Kelsey Grammer Presents The Sketch Show. And so, what? Is he involved with the sketch show beyond presenting it? Does it really matter who presents it? Does anyone need to present it? Does this benefit anyone but the writers who have to make one less sketch for the time filled by meaningless applause and "Welcome back to the Sketch Show! We'll be right back!" I bet there's a house band, too. In the event the presenter is of any signifigance, is this enough so as to name the entire program after that person? It's not just because I hate Kelsey Grammar that I mention this, it's also that his name is in the title. Even In Living Color, which employed an estimated thirteen thousand Wayans brothers, didn't put Wayans in the title. You can't perform [many] sketches with just one person, and even if you could, it needn't follow that it be the same one person in all of them. Chappelle's Show worked, to some extent, because Dave Chappelle had a somewhat unique sense of humor not usually seen on basic cable before eleven pm, at least not on any show that wasn't quickly cancelled. Kelsulus Gremmar is famous for being a pretensious ass and also Frasier, who has had a primed time network slot for twenty goldurned years. If he had anything unique to contribute he'd have done it or at least hinted at its possible existence by now. Also, the name: The Sketch Show. It is not the sketch show, it is a sketch show. Next, the network: It's on FOX. Why would FOX commission a second sketch show, especially after, for the first time in five years, I liked more than one consecutive episode of Mad TV? That's correct, just to annoy me. "But wait, Jennifer Talia on the long since defuncted Athanon forum! Kelsey Grammar was the voice of Sideshow Bob from The Simpsons! That thus vindicates him of any unjust or mediocre deeds for all eternity!" First of all, you can't prove that was me. Second, saying stuff into a microphone isn't that hard. If brainrobbed goons like Hilary Doofenheimer and Elmo and Casey and the Sunshine Band can do it, I doubt that in itself is a grand accomplishment. "Speaking of talented musicians, Nellie's first big hit was named after Kelsey Grammer! That must count for something!" I'd estimate a sockful of lima beans, but only if you promised to return the sock.
Kirsty Ali is fat. Or so I am told. A lot. By television people. I've either never watched any filmed production that she's been involved with, or didn't notice she was, so it makes not a difference to me. I see a lot of fat people; she could have been any one of them. So what, then? So this: I did hear that every time she "strays" from her weight loss attempt, she will donate one hundred dollars to her favorite charity. Hmmm. If Kirstee Ellie really wants to prove how selfless she is, that money should go to her least favorite charity. Especially so if, as I suspect, her favorite charity is the "Kirstie Alley Hunger Relief Fund."
More news with no relevance to me that I keep hearing anyway: Someone hacked Paris Hilton's Sidekick! I had long wished for someone to hack Paris Hilton and then, to prove the job was done, symbolically kick one of the sides over, so you can imagine my excitement quickly fading into disappointment at the first news of this, so that I need not even describe it. Even knowing the actual story, I have reason to doubt that as well. No one hacked Paris Hilton's Sidekick. The people who sell Sidekicks leaked the information themselves just to get "Sidekick" mentioned on television a lot. I didn't know there was a handheld annoyance machine called "sidekick" until this story came up. I still won't buy one, but now I know that I could and might in the event I sneezed half my brain out one day, and my knowledge of the object was in the remaining half. Oh, fear!
As I still cannot drive a car vehicle and couldn't afford to have one anyway, I still am treated to Air Amelica radio during the voyage to and from that place that I go and come to and from. If you live in an area which doesn't receive it, do not own a radio object, or are deaf, you can recreate the experience by pulling several pieces of hair off of your head (or elsewhere) and putting them in your mouth. In the event you do not have a mouth, you may continue pulling out hair. If you are the icon this page has when viewed in Netscape and lack both hair and a mouth, you do not really exist and so I am not concerned with you.
Shockingly, from November up to about two weeks ago, I hadn't heard a thing from Al Franken. I wonder what the problem could have been? Who did make a surprising audio appearance, however, was your hero and mine, Matthew Lesko. "You've probably seen me all over the television shows!" he claims. "On all the talk shows!" If he would replace "on" with "during," I would move towards agreeance, for unless adspace of a talk show or a 2:30 am informertial made to resemble one count, which I assure you they do not, I question that statement's validity. His promotion in prestigious Weekly World News some years ago also emphasized the "talk show icon" point. I don't doubt that at some point he was a guest on every show he mentions, but certainly, as long as I've been watching any one of them, he's never been asked to return. Carrot Top, Dame Edna and even Rob Schneider were let back on The Tonight Show before Lesko was. Imagine his place on the heirarchy of a show with guest standards.
In addition to the books Lesko sells, he offers an audio version, which he boasts to be "six hours" worth of that. Six hours of Lesko-themed audio. My first thought after hearing that was: I just hope he got someone else to record it. The idea of that guy screaming about government grants from 5 to 11 doesn't seem like a thing anyone wants.
Also, I heard the story of 877-IVE-GOT-GAS, the telephone number / battle cry for Infinite Energy, which, while every bit as classy, is sadly unaffiliated with another legendary Weekly World News sponsor, upyourgas.com. Infinite Energy's New York branch is actually called "Intelligent Energy," which implies that the energy turn your appliances against you if you dare point out the ignorant shortsightedness of assuming the energy will never run out. No one will ever know what happened, because when the energy does run out, and the appliances with it, they will go to Mars.
Don't look for the fugitives on the Mars Rover camera; it is one of them! Don't you see?! No, because I said not to look. I can't think why you'd want to see them, or orange rocks, anyway.
if the shoe fits, there's no room for a sock
I saw, at Wednesday, February the two, a computer printout advertising POETRY CLUB that struck me as so odd that I believed to not document it's existence would be worse than any atrocities commited by such a club. I wanted to take the paper and scan it, but I held me from doing it for the reason that I didn't want anyone who might witness my action to think I thought that would be the reason it's not going to get any members. Though certainly, the big picture of a clipboard and the checked box beside the word "APPROVED" won't hurt. I eventually did procure the object I sought, and at first felt bad about it, more because of what my plans for it were than that it was an unjust revocation of another person's right to bulletin: That it had just been covered by a Black History Month event (?) calendar on the seventh of February indicated that it had been alotted time, and that this was now up. I also decided that I was not unfairly criticizing an innocent, easily overlooked error, as there were, and still are, copies of the announcement on every other bulletin board, so it's not like someone didn't write this, look it over, print it, look over it some more, hang it up in various places, step back and look one last time without thinking "this is the message I want people to see."
If anything, I'm helping out by letting a few more people see it. I first delivered this to the attention of Saint Zartan, a person whom in the past had made myself aware of items similar in nature to the one described herein. Although I felt the page perhaps undeserving to bear his words, he seemed not to object when I suggested the possibility, so I have presented them there in the manner you requested, o glorious Frimbip. As the words appeared to me as plain text, the formatting and link are, most likely, entirely my doing.
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The Poetry Club flyer is just such a beautiful trainwreck; I meant to write back sooner with my thanks but I honestly couldn't even conceive of where to begin savaging this ridiculous artifact. There is a tiny voice inside me, a little flickering flame of compassion, that says something to the effect of "at least these people are doing something social and constructive instead of huffing glue out behind the Target and abusing small animals", but I will ignore it, because, for the moment, that will be more fun. DELICIOUS VINYL! "New Club" organize by Feli'ecia.
That is the first sentence, and again, I don't know where to start because there are at LEAST three things wrong with it. "New Club" - why is this capitalized? Is "New Club" the name of the club? It would be a better name, at any rate, than "Poetry Club", as the rest of the flyer pretty plainly indicates that you can "make friends, have fun & get to know others" by writing, well, "just anything"! There is a dry cleaning joint near my parents' house called "Your Favorite Cleaners"; "New Club" is an equally good name for a club in the same sense.
"New Club" organize by...
There are two possible reasons for this little mangling of the language
(a) Feli'ecia doesn't read what she writes to see if it actually makes sense in a verbal context.
(b) Feli'ecia writes EXACTLY like she speaks. FELI'ECIA Which is worse: that her parents may have named her "Felicia", and this is her "I'm all grown up and forging my own personality" respelling, or that her parents DID name her "Feli'ecia". "Why would anyone do this", he said in his best "House of the Dead 2" deadpan. Good lord, all these nested apostrophes. Also, the issue of the stamp: The fact that the flyer was stamped means that it was "approved". Only people with the power to approve flyers should have access to the stamp. Therefore, the presence of the word "approved" ought to be sufficient. The little check in the box means what? It means NOTHING; it comes with the stamp. There is no way for the box to be unchecked - what would make more sense is... ARRGH. You can see how I could go on and on like this. The "Poetry Club" flyer is just an amazing little piece of our human experience. This is the message they wanted us to see. |
Also my doings are those which follow.
You will be reminded presently that I do not do them as well.
Attend open mics, poetry slams, & poetry contests.
I would normally assume "poetry slam" to be a poetic insult, but the presence of "attend" informs me that this is a gathering of some sort. Perhaps a gathering in which people insult poetry? Maybe that sounds like a good time, but I have to think it would be more efficient and productive if it were not held seperately from the poetry contests. Do not tease me in that way!
Any other ideas you may have will get
noticed.
Not necessarily comprehended or further positively acknowledged, but they will be noticed. Much like ducks notice armadillos, or fellow Gateway bulletin board alumnus Mao Tse Tung notices dissention, or Luciano Pavarotti notices meatballs. None of these seem like they'd help my idea along very much. If anything, they'll suppress it (Mao) and eat it (Pavarotti), but not before taking obscene, humiliating photographs of it (ducks).
I have an advisor all I need is some students who
willing to write with creativity and have fun.
Oh, you'll need more than that.
From my research*, the prime focus of any advisor is to usurp the throne and marry the sultan/emperor's daughter. I don't see how that helps this situation. Worse, I do consider it a definite harbinger of the downfall of civilization that there are so few students willing to have fun that you need to hang up 16 different advertisements in the same building to seek them out (and what says "good time" or symbolizes unique thought better than a big clipboard?). All they want to do is work, help people, and take responsibility for their own actions. Were this a nation built upon the decadence and ignorance of consumers, it would surely be doomed.
*playing Prince of Persia
Students who
can sit back & laugh about mistakes in writing,
I see nothing upon which to remark here.
Students who
can sit back & laugh about mistakes in writing, different
types of writing, perfection of writing, &/or the fun of
coming up with topics.
Sometimes, when I come across incomplete sentences.
As of some time not long before now, and likely not long after I move this off the main page, this website is the number one google result for the query “tomagotchies.” Sure, there are only 25 others, it's misspelled, and no one who comes here looking for that is likely to stay, but wouldn't it be arrogant for me to make a brag that was in any way valid or significant?
These olives must be punished for their sins!
Figure 1: My third glass of iced tea. I suppose it was my second, since the first was refilled (I'm told for free) once and then replaced by a newer model when I desired not to have new ice. Although without ice a fool might think it would just be tea, but, being a fool, this person forgets that icing can also refer to the sugary substance a cake is topped with. And so it should not surprise you to be informed that I invested much sugar into this endeavor. Seventeen Domino brand sugar packlets in all. The third iced tea drink was somewhat flat... if you have the most basic math skills (if you are the fool from before this doesn't excuse you) you may have deduced that this was lacking a sixth dose of sugar. By a strange coincidence, it was after making the count and realizing this that I noticed I had used them all. There was another brand's sugar available, but I couldn't be certain that it would come in the same amount per unit, and it was important, maybe, that I knew exactly how much I had used and I could not know this so well if a different measurement system suddenly came into use.
Figure 2: Sugar unit container devoid of Domino contents. Above, my use for the strange artifacts which accompanied my pancakes on their journey to the table I used. The person in the distance attempting to hide decided my work would be more complete with a toothpick stuck in it, and went so far as to make this so. Immediately afterwards, it fell down. In time, however, I rebuilt the structure, but person startled the tower while trying to escape camera range, collapsing it anew.
It occured to me that if I was able to make this three times it wasn't special enough to deserve its picture be taken, but I decided that I wanted the waitering person to see it. You as well, I suppose. Ehhh.
I don't like living with cats. Humans aren't always spectacular either (such as when, for example, they insist on having cats around), but no one of them is going to try to bite food out of my mouth. At least, no human that I wouldn't already have ruled out living with based on other criteria. I'd feel bad and emotionally distant keeping one in a cage (the humans or not), but otherwise I just feel emotionally distant. A cat won't laugh at jokes (presumably, not even good ones) and the only jokes a cat will tell are the same ones every other cat has been telling for 4000 years. Hey, you can get over agitated regarding a piece of string! What's that? You can lie dormant for nine hours and suddenly raise your head in alarmed, disturbed interest at the sound of a vacuum cleaner? You're a genius!
You know what else cats do? They vomit. And they don't even need to get drunk and possibly help anyone else enjoy themselves first. Cats vomit with the sole intent to damage property. Cats are scoundrels.
Bah.
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The day before the last day of the last month before March, February 27, 2005 |
i have a way with people, one which clearly annoys them.
If I've seemed slow to update this recently, and even if I haven't, because I'm the only person interested, it's because of a sudden increase in outside demanding factors, the least of which, and therefore the one which engages me the most, is my peculiar doom edit. That is, a collection of files which modify the game Doom so that it is different, yet not quite different enough as to justify one tenth of the time invested in it. What's even better, I realized, after nearly two years without any kind of "flow" being established, it may never be finished, meaning I'll never have to worry about facing solid indifference after making it downloadable. So the day for that to happen is far off, if it exists. However, I can have no shortage of pictures of it in operation. If you're using 800x600 resolution or somehow even less than that, this here should have made that list to the left absolutely unreadble. Oh, I can see you're dismayed.
Intricate details!
Special effects!
Great graphics!
Nonstop action and adventure!
Volume control!
I tried to replace that second picture with a non-stretched 640x400 image, but I can't even get that level to load now, don't know what thing I did wrong to make that happen, and have no idea where to start looking. That's how lost a cause this is.
It was five days over a year ago that I declared my inability to locate this. I have found it since then. Just as I lost it when I aquired a scanner, so did I find it again once that scanner recieved damage. However, I did not lose the card again. Perhaps you heard. I wondered in the past what says "I love you" better than an angry, nearly naked, snarling man, and I now realize that is one who bears candy. At least, I am assuming that's what that curious red splotch is an indicator of the past presence of. Or maybe Goldberg (for that is the man's name) has just been shot, and rubbed his hand in the wound to see if it had sent forth authentic bleed fluid. YAP, THAT'S REAL BLOOD ALL RIGHT! SNARG! Actually, if you see it so that the finger pointing forward instead is either curved away from you or a thumb, Goldberg also looks kind of like he's holding a really small red teacup. IT'S GREAT STUFF! YA GOTTA TRY SOME, MATE! YES, I AM GOOD FRIENDS WITH CROCODILE DUNDEE. HOW DID YOU KNOW?
Whoa there, don't educate me too much! I suppose it's an improvement on the part of the research department, who didn't bother figuring out where Raven was from, but you'd think they'd spell out Oklahoma in its entirety just to fill the extra space. But you'd also think whoever was passing these around could have located the "to:" field. It was nice that you took the time to remind me (for the purposes of the remainder of this paragraph we will pretend my name is "brendalyn") by number what room I'm in, but how am I even going to know that if you wrote my name all the way down there? Let's suppose I locate the name; how do I know this wasn't actually intended for Drendalyn? If you read the page from that link up there or just have an insufferably good memory for insignificant details, you will recall that I received two cards. Perhaps I think now that one of them was intended for Drendalyn. How do I find Drendalyn? I can't ask Student Council; that they gave Drendalyn's to me would indicate that they don't know any better than I do. That they were giving out valentine cards featuring professional wrestlers would indicate a more extensive information deficiency.
Lo! There be four people in a television studio made to resemble a kitchen. I guess they're supposedly having a family meeting or something. Someone even says "is this a family meeting?" The one who has called it I gather to be the mother by the fact that she isn't allowed to sit at the table. The others wonder why they have been summoned. "It's called," mother replies, wumping a Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket on the table, "dinner! ...together." Surprise!
What I want to know is: could those other people really not smell that stuff in their own house? Whether you don't like it or do, you can smell that before it even reaches the driveway. It's illegal to eat that on boats because sharks will jump out of the water to get it. Do these people live inside a KFC or what? And if they did, why would they look forward to eating its product? Next the view shifts to one that also has a bucket but not people, perhaps symbolizing the preserving chemicals in the meat allowing it to exist long after humans have become extinct. The bucket looks something like this except it only has Original Recipe brand chicken in it:
KFC isn't as cruel as you've heard; since they massacre the whole family together there's no worrying or mourning among the birds.
The announcer reports nine pieces of their frequently touted as of late "delicious drumsticks and thighs," and some other stuff for only $9.99 which, by the way, is his way of telling you that dark meat doesn't sell as well as white meat, which they'd never let you have that much of for less than $12, even without said other stuff. But beyond that I have to wonder: What else is in that bucket? If it were full there'd have to be like eighty pieces of chicken in that thing, so that either means the chickens have gotten a lot smaller or the buckets have gotten a lot bigger. Since the people in the advertisement were normal sized in comparison to the chicken and I wasn't paying attention to the bucket at that point, it must be the latter option. But of course there isn't that much more chicken in the extra space; I don't believe any successful American business would give anything more than offered unless the excess was entirely undesired. If anything, I'd expect them to go for gradually smaller buckets to make the chicken look bigger at first, and over time decrease the amount of chicken so that they can point out the overall decreased fat content and spuriously claim to be more "health conscious." At the moment, however, that is one huge bucket. If the entire reported contents fit in that space, why do we need a bucket at all? Maybe it's for people who get ill from eating KFC but are in too much of a hurry to pull their vehicle over to a roadside and deal with it. After you've eaten the chicken and removed the complimentary roll of toilet paper, the empty bucket doubles as a waste management object. KFC, for the diarhetic on the go, because you don't always have time to go!
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