November 28, 2006
There has been a recent trend on the internet to make hilarious macros of cats and display them proudly on your website. Well, you can find the old favorites just about anywhere, but I decided to make some of my own with pictures I've collected in my years of looking at cat pictures on the internet. Yeah, these are definitely gonna be stolen and hotlinked, but I might as well put them up here for prosperity. YOU SAW THEM HERE FIRST. Enjoy!
And my personal favorite...
November 24, 2006
What the hell is wrong with people?
I've never been big into the whole toy craze, and I don't recall ever wanting The Toy no one could get their hands on. I wanted a PS3 so I could make some money. Apparently this year marks the 10th year of Tickle Me Elmo, so the Powers That Be decided to market another one, the TMX, which sounds more like a surround-sound race car than a giggling puppet, but what the hell do I know? My mom got me a Tickle Me Elmo when it first came out, and for those of you playing at home, that would have made me 16 years old. Why? Because she could.
She devised a super secret plan which may very well have involved wearing camouflage face paint and sneaking in the back door of a Wal-Mart in the dead of night, but she got one when sources said they were all sold out. Two actually, so me and my 13-year-old brother wouldn't fight over them. And since it was understood within the family that moms just sometimes do things just because they can, it wasn't insulting when Ryan and I shared a quizzical glance and then asked if we could use the twin Elmos for cuddly fire wood.
Not really, we ended up donating them to a poor family or something, but my mom's mission was accomplished, and it was a Merry Christmas for all. So I *guess* I can understand the compulsion, but now this has just gone too far.
I'm already pissed off at Sony for deliberately not releasing enough units to fulfill demand, not because I didn't get one, but that all the free press they're getting about it is so masturbatory that they probably come away from it thinking that they're masters of business economics. Not so. (Fig. 1)
Not only is it, well, kind of stupid, but they're deliberately opening people up to show their worst sides. Everyone has heard of the crazy moms ripping things out of each other's hands. The step up from that is the trampling danger, which sounds far fetched, but tell that to the people that died in that one night club and at that one Pearl Jam concert. The step up from that is all the stories you hear of people mugging or killing for the consoles. Cool.
I don't know. I guess if you're going to rush development on an overpriced console that will likely break within the year like its 2 predecessors, probably the best thing you can do is sell an even 12 of them to the ravenous public.
But what really got to me is the TMX Elmo. Right now, it's selling on Amazon for a cool $115, but allegedly it retails to the larger soccer moms who could punch through the crowd for $40. Up until September, no one even knew what the hell it did. Members of the media had to sign an NDA and the damn box was designed to look metallic with locks and crap on it and with that little bastard crawling all over it, spouting, "No peeking! Tee hee hee!"
The thing that REALLY gets me about it is that most of these parents are buying it for their 2 year old. Now, I may think differently when I'm a little older, but aren't 2 year olds pretty much glorified sacks of gelatinous goo that occasionally drool or vomit on you? The kid doesn't know what you went through to get it, nor did they read Time Magazine to see that it's the hottest thing they should currently like. For crying out loud, the kid can't even get Baby Street Cred for having it and bragging to his friends because they're all 2 fucking years old!
I'm no babyologist, but I'd even be willing to bet that in a double-blind test, a 2 year old wouldn't be able to tell the difference between Elmo X-treme TMX 2006 and a red sock stuffed with another red sock.
All right, all right. I give up. Toys are cool. Kids like toys. Merry Christmas. It just seemed wrong to me, but I guess I don't get it. What the hell do I know, anyway? I'm getting Scamp colorful claw coverings for Chrismas, so I guess I'm not really one to talk either.
November 22, 2006
I almost forgot how much I hate Waldo.
You feel like such a fool when you find him, and he's smiling at you in that condescending way like, "Hey, I've been here all along. This is a book, man. I can't special-effect myself out of this shit. If you can't find me, how are you supposed to find a tiny letter of a word in a book you want to read? I'm at least a 20-point font, bitch."
You know what, Waldo? Maybe you shouldn't spend your time hanging out with people WEARING THE EXACT SAME OUTFITS as you! Yeah, the stripy shark with your Santa snow hat threw me off for a while, but I got you eventually.
Then you have the audacity to send me back to look for other crap? My eyes were just getting used to searching for your characteristics, and now I have to find some dumb octopus? Pretty lame, Waldo. More like WalDON'T. Yeah, I went there.
November 19, 2006
When I was growing up, my mom always pointed out things that were lucky. I've decided to compile them for you all so you can keep an eye out for them. You wouldn't want to be lucky without even knowing it!
-Having a red cardinal fly past your car.
-Noticing that the time is 11:11 or 12:34.
-Standing in a moonbeam.
-Eating an egg with two yolks. (Always really grossed me out)
-Writing your name with a knife in a new jar of peanut butter before scooping it out.
-Getting rockstar parking.
-Finding something that's been lost.
-Catching a leaf before it's ever touched the ground.
-Getting really cold water from the faucet...in states where you dare to drink from the faucet.
-A day with blue sky and no clouds. (Not applicable in California and Colorado, where this is, you know, almost every day)
-Watching your odometer roll to a nice even number or a palindrome.
-Having an airplane shadow pass over you.
That's all I can think of for now. When I was little, I loved getting luck so much that I would flip to a random page near the back of certain notebooks and write "Today's your lucky day!" as a special treat for myself when I got to that page. I also later started writing that same message on walls of friends and relatives that they didn't see often, like under a desk or at the bottom of a closet, behind some clothes. I wonder if they've found them.
If anyone has any other lucky things, feel free to share. Always good to know when something is lucky.
November 11, 2006
I had a pretty bad week.
My personal life has been pretty stressful and my work life isn't much better. I wish I could complain about my work life using some hilarious metaphor, but I'll just sit on it for now as I am legally bound to do, and then complain like hell later on.
Steve Martin came to me in a dream on Wednesday morning and told me everything was going to be all right. I took this to be a good sign, even though, at the time, I think he was referring to an earlier dream where a clothing store worker got fired because I couldn't pick out a shirt fast enough.
When I came home on Friday, I took a nap almost immediately, woke up to do important internet things like check my mail and Stumble Upon websites, then went back to bed even though I wasn't really tired.
Now, the thing that's great about cats is the opposite of what's great about dogs. You have to earn a cat's respect, and you can't just scratch its ears and expect it to return affection. Scamp has two modes: Sweet Cat and Frisk. Frisk occupies 70% of the time we're at home, and it mainly consists of Scamp being a razor beast and attacking our feet every time we pass him by. Sweet Cat comes out mostly in the mornings and he rubs up against me, making me wish I didn't have to go to work and could pet him all day. The trick here is that he's just reminding me to give him breakfast, and he won't actually miss me because he sleeps from 8:00 to 5:00 every day and probably doesn't even notice I'm gone.
So when Sweet Cat emerges in the afternoons and evenings, it's a rare treat indeed.
Maybe it was cat-uition (cat intuition, not the price a cat pays to go to college), but after my horrible day on Friday, when I went to bed for the second time, Scamp curled up next to me, licked my arm, and then put his paw on it and fell asleep. It felt like he was shaking the whole bed with his purrs, and I was lucky I had taken a nap earlier, so I could stay awake for a little while and enjoy his company.
So thanks, Steve Martin and Scamp, for making this week more tolerable.
November 08, 2006
In the past, I have hilariously screwed myself by posting things like "Gee, my website sure is generating a lot of hits for [character from Final Fantasy] [naughty word rhyming with "dornography"]!" And then, that page ends up being my most hit page ever, and it's a vicious internet circle.
Well, I'm sorry, but I have hit on some search strings that I cannot simply keep to myself and chuckle about. Some...kind of frighten me. So I'll pick out the best of the best.
Search Strings that have come to the right place:
iamgreat.com
quirky bitch
cartoon bees
Search strings that make me wonder why they come to me for help:
wearing a thick sweater
why that seems so unique nightmare before christmas
back of darth vader s head
what is the color for gluttony?
why is a green dress cruel
old cartoon with a lion running a marathon
how long do you go to school to be a dentist?
can t stop sneezing
Search strings of people who will be very disappointed with my site:
trannies.com
free cunilingus lesson
nood girle
lesbeans making out
masturbate after cooking
mind of mencia nice guy
Search strings of people that need to be reported to the police:
barely legal tweak crystal
what drowning does to your body when you survive
Wildcards!:
terry shivago
cruisin exotica
freenaked strawberry
harlan williams with a steelers
jokes containing the word clap or clapping
oats breast
The rest are either song lyrics that I have sneaked into my posts or they're tons of hits from my old comedian friends googling themselves and thinking I don't notice. Maybe I should talk about them more often, just to give them something to read.
Keep giving me weirdo hits, weirdos!
November 07, 2006
I blush.
It must be a new thing, because I didn't think I used to. Or maybe people only recently started pointing it out to me. I don't really like it, because I like to show a calm, cool, and collected veneer, and then my dumb face shows my true feelings. Well, sometimes, it's not even my true feelings. I don't know. Maybe you can figure it out. Here are some times it has happened recently that didn't make sense.
1. A co-worker walked in on me painting my nails.
Why a normal person might blush: They are supposed to be doing work and feel guilty for being caught.
Why I shouldn't blush: We're friends, and I know she doesn't care what I do, as long as I get the work done, which I do.
2. I found a phrase I didn't know and looked it up on wikipedia. Turns out it's a hard-core sex term. Flash forward to 5 minutes later, where I'm still absorbing all the (interesting!) information the site, and my boyfriend sitting next to me glances at the page, looks at me, and says, "What are you reading there?"
Why a normal person might blush: Being "caught" reading something dirty online, albeit informational.
Why I shouldn't blush: I don't care what he sees me reading! I've talked about dirtier stuff in my stand-up act. I just...didn't know the scientific word for it.
3. Telling my co-workers a story about how I once got so mad at a car salesman, I got up walked out of the dealership.
Why a normal person might blush: Well, I don't think a normal person would. A person with anger-management issues might get red just thinking of it, though.
Why I shouldn't blush: I don't have anger-management issues? Maybe?
Those are the three that I can think of right now, but it's been more than that, and I'm SICK of it! I don't get it. There's nothing lamer than acting cool when everyone can see your red face or your flop sweat or your stutter or whatever other people do.
I can kind of feel it, too. My face starts getting hot, and I know the person looking at me is seeing it, and then any embarrassment that I didn't have before manifests itself because of a dumb physiological reaction that I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER. And now I have to go because my blushing is making a glare on my computer monitor. I bid you good day!
November 05, 2006
I was inspired this weekend, and I drew up this quick Comic. I'm particularly proud of how the caricature in last panel came out.
In other news, I think our housekeeper hates us. Today marks the second time that I've seen her at our landlords' house and she didn't come over here. She's supposed to come every other weekend, but there was a period of time where she didn't come for two months. Now, I don't even keep track of it anymore, and I just find it a lucky day when she stops by.
She does a great job, but I sometimes feel guilty that we leave a week's worth of dishes for her. Now, that may seem like a lot, until you think of the fact that this pile can only consist of things in our small kitchen sink. So when I see her outside, I always dash to the sink so I can do the dishes before she gets here, which, if you think about it, defeats the purpose of a housekeeper.
Now, I've never had one, but I assume people share this same dirty guilt that I do -- the same way you wash your hair before getting a hair cut that includes a shampoo. But if I feel so guilty, why do I even have one? Why don't I rush around and clean the entire house before she comes over, so she can stop in, take a look around, say, "I guess my job here is done," and then my landlords can pay her.
We have hardwood floors, though, and I don't think they'd ever get scrubbed if she didn't come by and make everything smell antiseptic. So anyway, I saw her in my landlords' house, and she could have been bending over to pick something up off the ground, but it sure as hell looked like she was ducking out of sight. Maybe she's annoyed that she can't sweep anything up without my cat attacking the broom and messing up any swept-up piles of dirt. Or maybe she thinks we're dirty pigs and she hates us.
But I don't want to mess with her, because her name is Blanca, and she could easily curl herself into a ball and electrocute us.