HA HA HA! I DIDN'T READ THAT IN HIGHLIGHTS MAGAZINE IN SECOND GRADE AT ALL!
Gosh, that says a whole lot.
What's going on with the dithering? The year is 2003. People HAVE true-color monitors now. People have had them for around a decade now. Anyone who still doesn't probably uses a sub12k modem, if any, and couldn't load one of the pages that carry your ads (and many, MANY more) anyway, so no one's being accomodated. You're not saving disk space, because all those dots take up more memory than a flat color area would, and it's going to be a neglible amount in an image that size, whatever the case.
I won't explain this. I shouldn't have to. If it was deep at all then it wouldn't be mass-consumable, would it.
Why do you just have shaving cream in that area? Its entire exterior is fur-covered, how stupid are you? You mention men. Men. As compared to what? Transsexuals? Neuters? Hermaphrodites? No, you don't mean them. With your 1950s housewife garb, I bet you've never even heard of them. Women, then. So sometimes men make the strangER requests. And if sometimes they make the stranger requests, then sometimes... they don't. So your comment means absolutely nothing. You know, your man won't be pleased when he comes home and doesn't find his dinner waiting, since you've been so busy shaving the beav. I imagine you won't even complain when he viciously beats you, just because you've been bred and indoctrinated not to. You don't dare say you were doing a task for his sake. He was in “the war,” after all. He's entitled to be an abusive, narrow-minded bigot into the next century. And how many men are you talking about, anyway? You know, HE won't be pleased when he finds out. He will find out. If Einstein, (who's still alive, by the way), couldn't get away with it, what chance do you have, you ignorant, uneducated domestic slave? Run away, run away! It's the only chance! The children, what about the children? They're better off without you. You were a horrible mother anyway. It's better that they grow up resenting you for leaving them than for never leaving them alone. At least you can imagine an ideal of what might have been. Wait, what's that sound? They're home now. Oh, how could you leave them? They'll know their mother was a whore! You couldn't, you can't. If only... That's it! He still has the gun, from the war. You know he keeps it loaded, because he's afraid of those dern commies. He told you never to touch it, but there's not much he can do once you've discharged a round right between his eyes! Ah, dumb kids. They run right towards the sound of danger. How will you explain? A whore and a murderer? There's no turning back now.
Now you've done it. You're a criminal now. That might even be categorized as a “spree.” You can't get away. You'll live the rest of your life in a real prison. Things don't seem like they were so bad a couple of minutes ago, do they? Hey, there's one buwwet weft. There's only one way out...
That was actually pretty depressing. I don't know what you're talking about.
| Day of the Tentacle, September 24, 2003 |
I am confess, I've not seen the Steven Seagal film Marked for Death. Quite inexcusable, I know. All my knowledge of it comes from the imdb.com tagline: “In Above the Law, he got tough; In Hard to Kill, he got even; Now the man with the short fuse is... Marked For Death” This would indicate that all his movies have very deep and dissimilar plots which aren't at all evident from the titles. And now, I enter a whole new realm of understanding with an object kindly donated by a kindly donator ashamed to have it, but not so much as to deny having it:
I can't imagine why someone wouldn't want to hold on to this.
Unfortunately, I do not have this album, only a few pictures of it. A Mr. M at some local library that I guess accepts submissions like this was so frightened and confused at receiving it as to, following likely many prolonged moments of weakness, tell me about it. Being directly associated with me is unfortunate, so I shall say no more. It's almost as embarassing as owning a certain soundtrack, and then keeping it for 12ish years and not destroying it at any point during that period, and at last trying to pass off its passing along as a charitable contribution. Sure pal. I'd love to see the tax form you try and write this off on.
Credit must also be given to whomever designed that illustration up there, foregoing any creative decision whatsoever, instead simply cropping out the lower 33-ish percent of the vhs box's picture. Once a dramatic-looking vision of Steven Seagal stepping out of the shadows to make a kill, he now just appears to have a giant afro. So big as not to fit in the picture, so much that the left side isn't even visible when he moves over to the right. That's a BIG afro, all right.
Ehhh, only Jimmy Cliff songs credit Steven Seagal as executive producer. While I don't know what an executive producer does, I do know now that Steven Seagal can do it, and I imagine it can't be much. But more interestingly, I couldn't find much legible mention of the Oneness Band outside of this soundtrack. Jimmy Cliff is allegedly somewhat well known, but I think Oneness Band gets it's name from only having one song, which makes me think further that it's just some punk friends of Seagal who he owed a favor to (growing up on the MEAN STREETS favors are things that get owed), and one day they decide they're a band, and they want Steven to use his "connections" to get them exposure. What they don't realize is that all the while they've been lying to Steve about what a great band they are, he's been lying right back about being a big ultra hollywood major uber mega star, and so the best deal they ever get is a soundtrack to a movie no one remembers the songs from, and not even the cassette version, the one you probably would have bought, if either, back in 1990.
| Thersday, for the ladies, September 18, 2003 |
Yessireesteve, I'm convinced these socks will kill me in some way. Clearly, the mere thought of putting these things on is so horrifying that FARAH won't dare even fake a picture of someone wearing them. How hard would it have been to show regular, neutral-alignment black socks and say they're these ones? They're so evil that it isn't even conceivable. Are you not convinced? How about this: “Shoe Size 6-12.” Six minus twelve is negative six. Negative, as in: evil! I checked, and indeed, I wasn't able to form a party with a paladin and these socks.
See at those two shifty-eyed, sinister looking individuals again. I wouldn't trust them even if they did have the socks on. I bet they're going to come to life and jump off the packaging and murder me to death. Or worse, make me wear a business suit. Sure, I'll wake up and realize it was alllll a dream, but then I'll have disappointment and disgust at the scriptwriter, and since as far as the website is concerned, that's me, I end up hating myself even though I had nothing to do with the creation of these evil, evil socks.
| Saturday, September 13, 2003 |
I hate to go back to the subject of Whoop-e (really, I do), but now NBC is running some bragging barbado bird stating that "25 million people made Whoopi a hit!" Now, don't bother correcting me if I'm wrong, because I'm not, this is the exact same thing that happened with the ill-everythinged XFL. Except... that was 58 million people. And that number DWINDLED like nothing else has ever dwindled to the point of utter cancellation within weeks, but lingered on for months until the end of the season, because of contracts and such. BUT FORGET THAT. People were exceptionally vocal in their hate for it in advance, so the network thinks it has the last laugh, and then announces figures that they COULDN'T HAVE MADE UP AT ALL to make the skeptics feel stupid. Well, I don't, because of what I just said, and even if history does not repeat itself in such a form, the most popular show on the channel, 'Friends,' I find equally or more so repulsive. People like to watch what I don't. Well, we knew that. Ehhh...
I actually watched the first few minutes. That's not making it a hit, by the way, because I'm not going to watch it next week. I just don't have the time. There's more important business to tend to, like Zsnes, Zdoom, and a game that doesn't start with Z. But oh, did that show make me laugh. And then it started. The best joke was "how did you come to the States?" "IRAN." There's a full staff of writers, and apparently this year they learn to do it in cursive. I heard from an anonymous source that in season two they're going to introduce a Hungarian who eats a lot. My next favorite part was the theme song, "Whoop whoop whoop whoop whoop Whoopi!" In a very "stuff that sounds stupid is funny" kind of way, of course. "Goldberg has never been funnier" some person who gets paid to say things like that said.
Sounds like somebody isn't familiar with the classics.
| Sunday, August 31, 2003 |
It sounds like they're ashamed. Whether this succeeds or not, I'll be looking back for years and wondering how this could be allowed to happen.
NBC Fall lineup: Rarely has an event occured about which I contribute less of a frup. We see these two generic white dopes in a courtroom (I expect they're on trial for being criminally mundane): Alicia Silverstone and Rob Lowe they are called. They want to tell me about NBC's new shows. Not anything more than I might know already from the SAME ads they've been running since MAY, but something, they swear, before I leave. These two are unnotable enough that I probably could not have picked them out of the other kind of lineup that eventually led to their trial. Unless the rest of the people were black. A likelihood, considering most police lineups I've seen on television. NBC might get the better of me by producing an all white gallery of rogues, not exactly being known for its black content. Which is fine with me, as "black content" from a network controller's viewpoint usually amounts to artificial “hip-hop” language I can't understand injected into everything. But this time it comes in the form of Whoopi. Not a black stereotype by any means, but still black, and still pretty nauseating, unlikely to get isself watched by me.
Fortunately, our black stereotype niche is not forgotten. It finds itself as a white women who speaks in, yes, artificial hop-hop language I can't understand. “She's white,” quips Whoopi, seemingly holding back guffaws. Let's pretend for a moment that white people embodying black stereotypes has not become a stereotype in itself for a moment, as this show wants everyone to know how original it thinks it is. OUR TOKEN WACKY GUY IS IRANIAN! HE'S NOT A NERD AND HE'S NOT GAY! HE'S DEFINITELY NOT FROM MEPOS! HE DOES, HOWEVER, STILL TALK FUNNY! Oh, I guess Iranians are controversial or something. I'm not sure how, but apparently it has something to do with everyone descended from a middle-easterner being a terrorist. Someone must think that. As glad as I am to see a change from the “annoy uptight catholics” brand (after that brilliant self-parody bit with the ghey bishop, there's not much else left), this really doesn't amount to much. Maybe a year and a half ago as a mid-season replacement, but I seriously don't think anyone's going to get EnnBeeSee news coverage by publicly exhibiting outrage over the fact that Iran exists. As for Whoopi Goldberg (I'm sure) the person, with a record of hits like Friends and Family, Flooze, (it's like money, except you can only buy things from internet! doy-hee!) and Saying Own Name Excitedly that One Time on Sesame Street, I'm definitely a fan.
And how could I forget middle-upper class, sophisticated black man? Whoopi's show is so atypical I seriously want to put a Neopet on this page just as counterbalance to the dangerous originality levels leaking from that there jpeg. Look at that. The I is the Empire State's Building! That must mean this show is about New York and its COLORFUL CHARACTERS! Just in time for Moron Month, right? I'm tempted to henceforth refer to the show as Whoopii and alter the image to include a pair of airplanes, but I think just saying it is enough.
The only other new NBC show I know about is “The Lyons Den,” and even then, I don't know much. I do know that “Lyon” is someone's name, and not an actual “lion,” which I still consider a dirty trick after all these years. The Sopranos aren't high-pitched vocalists, Black Adder isn't a snake, Sledge Hammer isn't an unconvincingly wielded WWF foreign object. I don't know who to believe anymore. We are approaching a future when people expect every show title to be someone's name. 2013, someone turns on a classic TV station and is disappointed to find out Full House isn't about a man named Full House. Even further disappointment results when it is found out what Full House is about, and that this qualifies as “classic.” Even today, dumb people watching “Dumb and Dumber” are dumbfounded as to why the title characters aren't in it.
As you've surely gathered, this is Coupling, the new comedy everyone's talkin' about. I GUESS WE'D BETTER START!
I'm going to assume the “no publicity is bad publicity” rule applies here, and boldly choose to not even say bad things about this one. From now on. As much as I'd love to. Alright, starting now.
| Tuesday Night Fights, August 26, 2003 |
Then hurry up and go. Get yourself gone. I remember back when I first heard this, a little over two weeks ago, thinking "well, at least it's not as bad as the last Smash Mouth song." This was, of course, because at that point I'd only heard it once. The part relevant to selling Jeeps I've now heard enough times to say without bias, "this is every bit as bad as the last Smash Mouth song. " A truth: I had just switched the channel, and saw some show coming back from commercial, in which a heavy set man wearing sunglasses was appearing as a guest. My actual thought: “who's this shave-headed douchebag?” That must have been my thought, because that's not a thing I'd actually say. If I'm going to use an insult with a literal meaning, I'd like to know what the meaning is, and in this case I wouldn't like to. That turns out, the person was the lead shouter from Smash Mouth. He even looks like someone I hate.
UT-OH, IT LOOKS LIKE I REALLY MADE HIM MAD!
Oikes, half of the pictures I've seen of those tools feature them crowded together looking up at the viewer. It reminds me of the last frame in the movie I'm filming with a dork seeking missile-mounted camera. Perhaps they are leprechauns.
It's not just the songs, or the people who make them that I'm annoyed at. It's actually knowing what they're called and being able to identify them as the culprits just from listening for a few seconds. Most of the time, new bands will have an awful song that they play as musical guest, for a reason no one can give. If they ever have a second awful song, chances are I won't remember it or them. But not ShamashaMouth. They've got Whiny Synthesizer song, Hey Now song, The Song I Managed to Forget About Until I Looked For These Pictures, Worse Remake of Mediocre Monkees song, and now the Trying to Sound Jamaican song. This new song is notable for marking Smash Mouth's return to selling cars. As you might know, they briefly tried to reach a new corporate audience by selling THAT MOVIE, and later on Burger King's “celebration” of THAT MOVIE'S deeveedee release. You know you're dealing with a creation of pure evil when Burger King, longtime employer of Kid Vid sees the previews and says “ahhh... we'll pass.” Once it was verified a success, Burger King executives knew they had to get a piece of THAT while they still could, lest people think they lost in a bidding war to Dairy Queen.
After hearing HEY NOW too many times (once), I realized something, something that I rarely understand about music people. The singer's voice is so loud and destructive, that he can literally smash things with his mouth. Hence the name, Smash Mouth. Additionally, I'd like to Smash his Mouth.
As for my own summer clearance, this site probably won't get any better afterwards. Would you believe, since June I have not deviated one bit from my “normal” updating habits. No parties, late night murders or general adventuring for me, just the same old blandness. Typing things, uploading them, and having no idea who's seeing and not understanding them. Maybe you just thought it was different because you've been going out and getting drunk with your worthless hoodlum friends every night. But again, that's no different than it's been. I hope you get hit by a car Skeadoo.
You still live?
Here's something you don't hear everyday.
...it would prove nothing, as it could be any one of them. These phrases get used so often that I don't even notice when I don't hear them. It's very much like my use of the word "stupid." I'm continually labeling things as being stupid in a negative manner, and yet just as frequently call myself stupid and don't get offended. Yes, this likely means Roger Ebert spends a lot of time looking in a mirror and giving himself "thumbs up." I think it's best if I leave that statement alone.
Being called the best movie of the year only means that one person thinks it's better than anything else released this year. And you know what, it doesn't even have to be as good as anything not released yet. It's not uncommon to hear this line getting dropped as soon as April. Perhaps "best movie of a span of time equal to one year ending at this point" would be more fair, but I don't want fair so much as I just want them to shut up altogether. I probably said all this on one of those critic critical pages I made, BUT OBVIOUSLY IT DIDN'T WORK.
Just as dubious a compliment, “surefire osskahr contender” having any positive meaning requires that you assume two things: That the other contenders aren't awful, and that the people who give awards aren't idiots. I don't believe those have ever both been proven at the same time during my years.
In the "if all your friends jumped off a bridge would you do it too" department, sometimes hearing "number one movie" is supposed to move me. You know what that is? It's peer pressure. It says "EVERYONE'S seeing this movie, except you! What are you, a pharmacist?" Yehh, so why does it need my business then? It doesn't. It must just want to brag. Like such a brag means anything at all when every week has a different number one movie. That changes so often, I could claim my movie about the dork seeking missile destroying Smash Mouth was number one, and people would believe it.
I'll bet Roeper and Ebert like to give each other thumbs up. Oh, why do I say these things?
No one deserves this.
| Qusay and Uday, August 22, 2003 |
I still can't get over what happened last week. Oh, what a disaster! The whole northeast lost electricity! It was the GREAT BLACKOUT! If it was so horrible, what makes it great? The answer, of course, is Pizza Hut (makin' it great!).
I live in Connecticut, and I did not lose electricity. So somewhere along the line "the whole northeast" was redefined to mean "not the whole northeast." Actually, come to think of it, I did experience loss. For a split second. An hour before anyone else. We have underground wires here, I think the ice cream truck pilot was drunk, and drove in such a way as to cause a minor disruption beneath the road. What can I say, we have an antiquated system. Suffice to say, "rebuilding" to me meant resetting my microwave clock, and restarting my computer. I was uploading that umiphiliciphus junk at the time. Now if you want to talk about disasters, I found all of it intact when I resumed.
I heard that approximately 50 million people were left without electricity. So that means around 180 million (based on something I read two years ago that was outdated then) could only wonder: "how does this concern me?" Well, it didn't, unless you felt like watching Wheel of Fortune, in which case you would have seen instead droves of dropes walking around New York for no decent reason, and knowing you, you probably would have watched it. Some of them were just trying to get to their homes, sure, but once they did, they went right back out, to be on television. "OH, BUT OUR AIR CONDITIONERS DID NOT WORK!" Believe me, I know how you feel. I don't even have an air conditioner. It must have been so degrading to have to deal with the commoner's climate.
You know what's really scary? When your power is out, but no one else's is. This might have happened if you were raised by people who don't pay bills unless something gets shut off (Whether it's your water, your telephone, or your oxygen, if you don't pay for it and it still works, think of all the extra lottery tickets you can buy!) And how about this, the power gets shut off while you're away, and you don't come back until after 9:00pm. Always fun, stumbling into your own house late at night and none of the lights feel like turning on. Hey, I know. Let's ignite some candles. We still won't be able to see anything, but won't it be fun overstraining our eyes trying? How I envy people of centuries past, always knowing that the slightest disruption of order could set their whole house on fire.
I used to live in a different place (unlike that one time when I used to live in the same place), and it had blackouts all the time. Without error, within minutes, there'd be roundabout 70 people who I'd never seen before (because I won't go outside if there's the slightest reason not to) out of their houses, standing around with flashlights like idiots. Alright, maybe you can't do anything inside your house, so you go outside. But why do you need flashlights? Are you looking for clues? Are you going to solve the GREAT BLACKOUT MYSTERY?! There they'd be, in groups of five or four, every person with their own flashlight, activated and POINTED AT THE GROUND. Did you know flashlights were originally invented for the US army to POINT AT THE GROUND? Oikes. Even when I can see, I can't find a flashlight in my house, let alone with working batteries in it. How is it these entire families of incompetents can have themselves armed momentarily? They must have EMERGENCY KITS. Because this is an emergency. Had they not been PREPARED AT ALL TIMES, why, I might have walked past their house without getting 450 watts blasted directly into my eyes, as is the standard protocol during a blackout. Every person on the sidewalk across the street is a potential burglar who can only be foiled by pointing a bright object at them. Once the electricity comes back, this effective defense is carried out instead by those motion activated lights you geniuses started installing a few years ago, which isn't going to assist me in choosing the appropriate lock-picking device and make sure I don't trip over anything once I get inside at all.
I just heard a wonderful lie yesterday that said birth rates are usually extra high nine months from a massive power outage, because that's a time when people like to rub much sex on each other. Tell me, have you seen one block of advertising in the past decade that's given any hint of a period when people AREN'T doing that? Anyway, I was going to say I'd more expect the laser eye surgeries (which is surgery performed by a robot with laser eyes) to surge afterwards, but if I could afford that, I could probably afford a back-up power generator, and not be bothered by stuff like this. And I'd probably be living in a castle on my private island, instead of in such close proximity to twits. As my finances are right now, I still need money to buy eight more helicopters before I can airlift my castle to my private island.
| Doris Day , August 20, 2003 |
“I got the test results today. They were inconclusive.”.
This caption comes courtesy of me. I shall take my prize in installments of b every k over a period of m. Maybe next time I'll let you enter.
That it was neither announced that there was a contest, and the picture not even shown until now is what I call a winning strategy. I like winning.
Here's a picture of my screen showing that picture beside a piece of paper containing a similar picture among many dissimilar pictures. You might think "well that's great for you, but I'm really not impressed," and wonder why I'm showing this. I did have a reason, but I soon forgot. However, all is not lost, there fortunately was another reason, being that it is directly related to the next picture...
...which is a picture of my screen displaying the picture of my screen, beside a piece of paper which it has nothing to do with, other than the original's file name being written on it. You might wonder why I'm showing this. It is because I am a moron. A moron who clearly does not deserve modern technology. But you knew that. I just thought I should remind you. This is my page. I can do whatever I want.
| Sunday Funday, August 17, 2003 |
| It's not a good sign when the visual arts department has a pamphlet that looks like this. I guess they set “Graphic Design Option” to off. I've seen text BBSes with better logos. Fine Arts OUT OF Focus! Look for my grand collection, Community College Brochure SNAPS in book stores this November. You won't find it. Check the dumpster. |
| Friday, August 15, 2003 |
If German scientists had possessed this technology during world war II, might Hitler have saved enough time through using it that he was able to complete his sinister goal?
Also, that trophy looking object in the background is my “emmy.” Just in case you were wondering.
| Winsdee, August 13, 2003 |
Do you fantasize about football? If so, you'd better make sure you're doing it officially. The tough and hardcore fairies and elves you like to pretend are playing against the rugged and manly butterflies and unicorns can get you some terrible fines if you don't register them first.
At last, the digital camera has been rediscovered. Although it did not have it's batteries, it did have some simply fascinating pictures saved in it. I'd surely be breaking some more laws if I posted them here without aquiring a license of some sort, so I'll only say that if you see
this person, feel free to steal his pantses, as he seems not to like wearing them so much.
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