Thursday, July 06, 2006
MOVIE REVIEW aka 30 is the new 20!
Warning! Some spoilers are below! If the IM conversation review of Superman & Nacho Libre fucks up some huge surprises for you, that's not our fault. Well, it is, but we don't care.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Anybody have any nose-hair clippers?
Seriously. There are these few hairs just...sticking...way out there. It's like having a booger I just can't reach. I really need to clip these things. And I need to find a bathroom without anyone in it....because it's a bit awkward when someone comes out of the stall and you've got scissors sticking up your nose. As if that's perfectly normal. "Oh hey,.....what? Oh, uhhh.... nothing...nothing." Maybe the air in the new building we've moved to is just dryer. Maybe that makes my nose hairs longer. But I've been sticking my fingers up there all day, and let me tell you, you can't just yank those things out. It hurts. Real bad. Tear-inducing, actually. Damn it's cold in here. Please, turn down the AC, too.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Bachelor Fridge
There's a good reason my fridge looks the way it does:
I'm a single man, living alone. What do you expect from me, really? Awful things could happen if I had a well stocked fridge. Believe me. Back in the day, I used to have roommates. Three of 'em in fact. Even with four dudes sharing a well stocked fridge, food was left uneaten for unknown periods of time. Awful things happen to food when it isn't eaten. Terrible things. Food wants to be eaten. That's what it's there for. When it's not eaten, it feels neglected, and does things to make you regret your neglect. I just don't want to neglect food. I'm sensitive that way. I've seen what happens. Like this:
That's an onion. Pretty though, isn't it? Some of these things are actually pretty beautiful, if not stomach turning.
How about that? Rice & Beans. See what happens when you neglect food? It turns on you. I want to be kind to food.
Those are beets. Why the fuck were there beets in our fridge in the first place? Hey, I don't know. They were my roommate's. He was a weird fucking kid, I'm serious. Looked like a little hobbit. Hairy feet. Ate three breakfasts. Slept in a hammock. Bought toilet paper & locked it in his room so we couldn't use it. Sang a lot. I'm not joking. I eventually moved out mainly because this kid was so weird. He moved in with this dude "the fake Alex Alan" who lived on our couch for three weeks, never showered or cleaned his clothes, had a 12" beard, and came to New York with nothing but a backpack and a thumb piano. A thumb piano. We eventually kicked him out because he stank so much. He was "the fake" Alex Alan because because the *real* Alex Alan was ANOTHER roommate of ours. There were two kids named Alex Alan living at our place at the same time. The *real* one was so metrosexual it was painful. They couldn't be more different. It was really weird.
Swiss Cheese. I guess we thought we were going to make sandwiches. This was probably before I figured out I was lactose intolerant.
This used to be lettuce. Really. Lettuce bleeds when it's neglected. See, you vegetarians? Lettuce freakin' bleeds!!! I suppose we were going to use this with the Swiss to make sandwiches. Apparently, we never got around to it. But I had to make sure that nothing was thrown away upon discovery. It had to be documented. I never knew why. I do now.
I'm a single man, living alone. What do you expect from me, really? Awful things could happen if I had a well stocked fridge. Believe me. Back in the day, I used to have roommates. Three of 'em in fact. Even with four dudes sharing a well stocked fridge, food was left uneaten for unknown periods of time. Awful things happen to food when it isn't eaten. Terrible things. Food wants to be eaten. That's what it's there for. When it's not eaten, it feels neglected, and does things to make you regret your neglect. I just don't want to neglect food. I'm sensitive that way. I've seen what happens. Like this:
That's an onion. Pretty though, isn't it? Some of these things are actually pretty beautiful, if not stomach turning.
How about that? Rice & Beans. See what happens when you neglect food? It turns on you. I want to be kind to food.
Those are beets. Why the fuck were there beets in our fridge in the first place? Hey, I don't know. They were my roommate's. He was a weird fucking kid, I'm serious. Looked like a little hobbit. Hairy feet. Ate three breakfasts. Slept in a hammock. Bought toilet paper & locked it in his room so we couldn't use it. Sang a lot. I'm not joking. I eventually moved out mainly because this kid was so weird. He moved in with this dude "the fake Alex Alan" who lived on our couch for three weeks, never showered or cleaned his clothes, had a 12" beard, and came to New York with nothing but a backpack and a thumb piano. A thumb piano. We eventually kicked him out because he stank so much. He was "the fake" Alex Alan because because the *real* Alex Alan was ANOTHER roommate of ours. There were two kids named Alex Alan living at our place at the same time. The *real* one was so metrosexual it was painful. They couldn't be more different. It was really weird.
Swiss Cheese. I guess we thought we were going to make sandwiches. This was probably before I figured out I was lactose intolerant.
This used to be lettuce. Really. Lettuce bleeds when it's neglected. See, you vegetarians? Lettuce freakin' bleeds!!! I suppose we were going to use this with the Swiss to make sandwiches. Apparently, we never got around to it. But I had to make sure that nothing was thrown away upon discovery. It had to be documented. I never knew why. I do now.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
City of Brotherly Love - San Francisco
Because Philly kids are a bunch of little bitches. Not ALL of them, mind you - there are certainly a few out there who aren't punk wiseass hatin' pussies - but the general ethos coming from Philadelphia is definitely not one of brotherly love. San Fran, from what I hear, has that shit wrapped up. People actually give a shit about eachother out there. Philly? Not so much.
Superimportant is hereby starting the drive to strip Philadelphia of its name and ban anyone from ever using it in relation to that city ever again. Because it just isn't true.It's unfortunate that, you know, "city of brotherly love" is kinda what "Philadelphia" *means* when translated from latin...or greek...or whatever bullshit they use to make this crap up, but maybe the entire city needs to be renamed anyway. Suggestions are welcomed.
Superimportant is hereby starting the drive to strip Philadelphia of its name and ban anyone from ever using it in relation to that city ever again. Because it just isn't true.It's unfortunate that, you know, "city of brotherly love" is kinda what "Philadelphia" *means* when translated from latin...or greek...or whatever bullshit they use to make this crap up, but maybe the entire city needs to be renamed anyway. Suggestions are welcomed.
tetris high score!
Man, I was ON last friday during my afternoon dump! Tetris on my cell phone, you'll recall, is my preferred way of spending my bathroom breaks. My bathroom breaks are important methods of purging everything from my head and my body. Tetris helps me turn any intelligent thought into waste matter.
On Friday, I beat my high score at the timed version of the game - where you have 120 seconds to get as many lines as you can. Mannnnn, I didn't make ONE mistake. No empty holes covered up by awkward pieces, no one line here, one line there - every one of my scores was a perfect tetris, yo. 4 lines at a time! 4 lines at a time! BAM BAM BAM!!!! I was on FIRE, I tell you. My ass? Not so much on fire! That was another bonus. Had I engorged on buffalo wings or anything dairy the day before, the story would've been much different, and I would've had several more opportunities to top my high score. But as it was, I only took my typical afternoon poop/tetris break, and blasted my high score of 5310 out of the water with a 6180!!! FUCK YEAH!
I think I might start recording my scores on the bathroom wall, along with the consistency of my stool. (June, 23 - 6180 - loose), etc.
On Friday, I beat my high score at the timed version of the game - where you have 120 seconds to get as many lines as you can. Mannnnn, I didn't make ONE mistake. No empty holes covered up by awkward pieces, no one line here, one line there - every one of my scores was a perfect tetris, yo. 4 lines at a time! 4 lines at a time! BAM BAM BAM!!!! I was on FIRE, I tell you. My ass? Not so much on fire! That was another bonus. Had I engorged on buffalo wings or anything dairy the day before, the story would've been much different, and I would've had several more opportunities to top my high score. But as it was, I only took my typical afternoon poop/tetris break, and blasted my high score of 5310 out of the water with a 6180!!! FUCK YEAH!
I think I might start recording my scores on the bathroom wall, along with the consistency of my stool. (June, 23 - 6180 - loose), etc.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
A superimportant affiliate
Occassionally, but EXTREMELY rarely, superimportant things are posted on other sites. The staff of superimportant keeps an eye on the internet 24 hours a day to detect these rare postings. They don't sleep. And we farm the labor out to china, so it's really really cheap. Pretty thankless, dirty work, trying to find superimportant things elsewhere, BUT just the other day, one of our employees found something posted on messnyc.net (you can follow that link directly to the article). That employee received an extra nickel for the week.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
three words every man wants to hear
"So, you wanna get into bed, drink beer, eat cookies, and watch Fantastic Four? Just let me finish washing the dishes."
Just sayin....
Just sayin....
To be fair
I realize that the earlier superimportant news about killing zombies may unfairly single out certain elements of our society, and superimportant wants to emphasize that we're not pricks, just assholes. Also, feedback from R&D has recommended we explain what the hell we're talking about when we talk about the zombie killing farm. "Not everyone has been reading superimportant from it's inception," our researchers say. After we stopped crying and our rage subsided, we realized that they were right. It takes time for superimportant news to spread, and some people may be resistant to accept the fact that pretty much everything other than superimportant is irrelevant.
For the reader's reference, here is earlier reading material on the zombie farm. It is a superimportant ongoing endeavor. Our R&D department is working behind the scenes, tirelessly, to bring this project to fruition.
The original concept is explained here.
It is mysteriously expounded upon by some dude called Haiku Harry in this blog post from February
Then in March another reference was made in relation to the justification of the dissolution of the state of Rhode Island.
Now that the reader is up to date, let's continue.
To be fair to the zombies, superimportant wishes to extend the list of people who deserve to be herded together, then dragged out & gunned down as a leisure activity.
1) People in elevators who say "thank you" when the door opens. I don't know what was up with that crazy lady, but the world is full of 'em.
2) Your mom's pimp. I think he cheated me out of $4.
3) People who name the layers in their photoshop documents descriptive things like "layer 106", "layer 106 copy 1", "layer 106 copy 2", and so on and so forth.
4) People who speak in authoritative tones but don't know what they're talking about. (this would actually include me, if it weren't for the fact that I try to end every statement by saying "but actually, I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about so don't listen to a word I say". It absolves me from pretty much any kind of responsibility whatsoever)
5) Anyone who sucks on their fingers all day long and makes smacking sounds with their lips as they do it. Seriously, what the fuck? Do you dip your hands in honey every morning or something? I don't get it.
6) The one security dude in my building that doesn't recognize me as "the guy who looks like a messenger, but actually works here." Come on man! Your job ain't that hard! Everyone else remembers me. Dick.
7) Landlords who tell me that mice get in through the window.
8) Landlords who tell me that I'm not allowed to have visitors, ever.
9) Landlords who pound on my door before 6 in the morning when the apartment isn't burning down. What other reason could there be? Maybe he just needed to give me the receipt for June's rent. But he already DID give me a receipt. Turns out it was for 4F. I live in 3R. He wanted to make sure I got the right receipt, and that I put 4F's in their mailbox on my way out. Sure, fine, but why the fuck are you doing this at 6 in the fucking morning? Oh, well, I know that you go to work later. Yeah, I go to work later. At fucking 9! Furthermore, there are only 8 apartments in this building. Separated by floor, then Front and Rear. Who the fuck confuses 3R with 4F? My landlord is bat-shit insane. Honestly.
That's it. It might turn out that this list is only 4 people. But I'd like to see them all running in panic among the zombies & bullets. Especially the crazy elevator lady and my landlord. Crazy elevator lady would be all "oh my. oh my. I have tickets for the Pajama Game. Where's Broadway?" And my landlord would be yelling at the zombies, trying to scare them with a stick or something. It'd be hilarious.
For the reader's reference, here is earlier reading material on the zombie farm. It is a superimportant ongoing endeavor. Our R&D department is working behind the scenes, tirelessly, to bring this project to fruition.
The original concept is explained here.
It is mysteriously expounded upon by some dude called Haiku Harry in this blog post from February
Then in March another reference was made in relation to the justification of the dissolution of the state of Rhode Island.
Now that the reader is up to date, let's continue.
To be fair to the zombies, superimportant wishes to extend the list of people who deserve to be herded together, then dragged out & gunned down as a leisure activity.
1) People in elevators who say "thank you" when the door opens. I don't know what was up with that crazy lady, but the world is full of 'em.
2) Your mom's pimp. I think he cheated me out of $4.
3) People who name the layers in their photoshop documents descriptive things like "layer 106", "layer 106 copy 1", "layer 106 copy 2", and so on and so forth.
4) People who speak in authoritative tones but don't know what they're talking about. (this would actually include me, if it weren't for the fact that I try to end every statement by saying "but actually, I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about so don't listen to a word I say". It absolves me from pretty much any kind of responsibility whatsoever)
5) Anyone who sucks on their fingers all day long and makes smacking sounds with their lips as they do it. Seriously, what the fuck? Do you dip your hands in honey every morning or something? I don't get it.
6) The one security dude in my building that doesn't recognize me as "the guy who looks like a messenger, but actually works here." Come on man! Your job ain't that hard! Everyone else remembers me. Dick.
7) Landlords who tell me that mice get in through the window.
8) Landlords who tell me that I'm not allowed to have visitors, ever.
9) Landlords who pound on my door before 6 in the morning when the apartment isn't burning down. What other reason could there be? Maybe he just needed to give me the receipt for June's rent. But he already DID give me a receipt. Turns out it was for 4F. I live in 3R. He wanted to make sure I got the right receipt, and that I put 4F's in their mailbox on my way out. Sure, fine, but why the fuck are you doing this at 6 in the fucking morning? Oh, well, I know that you go to work later. Yeah, I go to work later. At fucking 9! Furthermore, there are only 8 apartments in this building. Separated by floor, then Front and Rear. Who the fuck confuses 3R with 4F? My landlord is bat-shit insane. Honestly.
That's it. It might turn out that this list is only 4 people. But I'd like to see them all running in panic among the zombies & bullets. Especially the crazy elevator lady and my landlord. Crazy elevator lady would be all "oh my. oh my. I have tickets for the Pajama Game. Where's Broadway?" And my landlord would be yelling at the zombies, trying to scare them with a stick or something. It'd be hilarious.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Jesus Christ, it really is the day of the Devil!!!
In the shower this morning, as I'm sure you all noticed, one of my pubes was stuck to the tiles. Not uncommon. There are pubes stuck to the walls all over my apartment. But this one WAS IN THE SHAPE OF A SIX!!! SIX!!!! SIX!!!!! Only one six, of course, but I did a triple-take!!! I glanced at it three times!!! Then the water turned to blood and the ground turned to brimstone, so I got out of the shower with my hair still soapy and rinsed it out in the sink. Whew! Talk about a close call! Be careful out there today everybody.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Zombies are NOT PEOPLE, TOO!!!
Films like zombie-american are an OUTRAGE! Zombies are a threat, and need to be killed! Again! Like, for real this time!
Ideally, they need to be herded into forests and periodically baited in the direction of designated zombie killing farms, where tourists will pay top dollar to fire machine guns at the advancing zombie mass. It'll be like that video game, Total Carnage, except not a game show, and with zombies. But FILMS LIKE THIS need to be stopped! No one should be under the impression that zombies are "just like us". I, for one, don't eat fucking brains!!! Zombies? Zombies do. Superimportant calls for a boycott of Zombie-American starring Ed Helms from the Daily Show. It's a threat to our country's moral fiber.
Ideally, they need to be herded into forests and periodically baited in the direction of designated zombie killing farms, where tourists will pay top dollar to fire machine guns at the advancing zombie mass. It'll be like that video game, Total Carnage, except not a game show, and with zombies. But FILMS LIKE THIS need to be stopped! No one should be under the impression that zombies are "just like us". I, for one, don't eat fucking brains!!! Zombies? Zombies do. Superimportant calls for a boycott of Zombie-American starring Ed Helms from the Daily Show. It's a threat to our country's moral fiber.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Leg Stubble
Shaved legs on women are something we sometimes take for granted. They're sexy. Silky smooth and touchable. Mmmm....shaved legs are hot!
Shaved legs on men....are just as sexy! Unbelievably so, but true! How do I know? Well, I just shaved my legs yesterday, and ooh, they're hottt! I just want to rub my hands all over them all day long. And boy, do I feel aerodynamic now. I jumped on my bike and was like "whooahhh!!! I can't stop! I'm flying here! Holy crap!" Then when they get all sweaty in the middle of a workout, they glisten and shimmer, and you can see the veins popping out & stuff. I finally feel like I fit in. With...uh...my crowd of leg-shaving men, of course
I'm pretty well aware that most of the readers of this blog are probably cyclists anyway, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume that there may possibly be some non-cyclists out there. I forgive you, but get on that fucking bike NOW .I don't know how many times I have to reiterate that there won't be any oil after the apocalypse, so if you want to survive, you best get on two wheels, damnit.
Anyway, my legs are dead sexy right now. And ladies, jesus christ, shaving your legs is a pain in the ass. It took me for freakin' ever to do this. Maybe it was because each and every hair was half an inch long or something - they kept on clogging up my razor, and it wasn't shaving anything. Maybe it's easier the next time, when I'm just shaving whatever grows in. Although by that point, my legs might be pretty disgusting. As it is, I missed spots all over the place. Like on the knees and stuff. Are there any tips you can share from the secret brotherhood of women? Or..uh...I guess that would be a sisterhood then. Seriously. The payoff (super-sexy aerodynamism) is worth it, but it certainly was a pain in the ass to get there.
Shaved legs on men....are just as sexy! Unbelievably so, but true! How do I know? Well, I just shaved my legs yesterday, and ooh, they're hottt! I just want to rub my hands all over them all day long. And boy, do I feel aerodynamic now. I jumped on my bike and was like "whooahhh!!! I can't stop! I'm flying here! Holy crap!" Then when they get all sweaty in the middle of a workout, they glisten and shimmer, and you can see the veins popping out & stuff. I finally feel like I fit in. With...uh...my crowd of leg-shaving men, of course
I'm pretty well aware that most of the readers of this blog are probably cyclists anyway, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume that there may possibly be some non-cyclists out there. I forgive you, but get on that fucking bike NOW .I don't know how many times I have to reiterate that there won't be any oil after the apocalypse, so if you want to survive, you best get on two wheels, damnit.
Anyway, my legs are dead sexy right now. And ladies, jesus christ, shaving your legs is a pain in the ass. It took me for freakin' ever to do this. Maybe it was because each and every hair was half an inch long or something - they kept on clogging up my razor, and it wasn't shaving anything. Maybe it's easier the next time, when I'm just shaving whatever grows in. Although by that point, my legs might be pretty disgusting. As it is, I missed spots all over the place. Like on the knees and stuff. Are there any tips you can share from the secret brotherhood of women? Or..uh...I guess that would be a sisterhood then. Seriously. The payoff (super-sexy aerodynamism) is worth it, but it certainly was a pain in the ass to get there.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Some more white people just moved in across the street.
As I rode back to my Crown Heights apartment today, I saw a dude and his chick bringing their stuff into the building across the street. This is a great threat to my "only white kid on the block" status. It is a status I prize highly. Used to be that you could go out on the street, yell "HEY CRACKA", and moments later I'd open the window and say "what?". Now? Ozzie & Harriet over here might pop out the window, and Ward & June over there might come out to the stoop..... Things have changed. This neighborhood is not going to be the same.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
If only Miles Davis were more hardcore
If only he & Gil Evans got together and threw some double bass drum and thundering guitar riffs, Sketches of Spain would be the perfect way to drown out all of this crap around me that I wish I could pretend wasn't here. As it is, Sketches of Spain brings me to this relaxing, bucolic space...but there's too much *silence* in it. Miles and his damn *silence*!!! Dude needs to learn how to rip it up!!! I can still hear the footsteps of people walking by! I can still hear the creak and spin of my supervisor's swivel chair! I can still hear his goddamn cellphone ring tone, although I'll give him credit for turning it down ever since that day I hung up on whoever it was that was calling when he was out of the room. I can still hear the guys working on the front door of our office down the hall. Now, while I'm glad they're finally working on the front door, the fact is that we didn't have a front door - at all - for a week or two, is aggravating. We were *this* close to having a pretty glass door (which wasn't quite the iris-style "hatch" I was hoping for, but I can't have everything, usually). They installed the pretty new glass door. Then at the end of the day, they sealed it with drywall. Because no one checked to see if everything else was up to spec. It wasn't. Apparently, you need a sprinkler system in front of doors like that. There wasn't one. But the guys who built the door weren't told this until they''d completely finished the door. So at the end of the day, when they're done, they had to cover all their work up with drywall and come back two weeks later to do more work. It's the knowledge that someone somewhere doesn't have enough oxygen in their brains to plan ahead that I'm trying to drown out with Sketches of Spain. And while it makes me feel all nice inside, it's not like Slayer. Slayer destroys all.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Whoever read this book before me probably didn't do well on their paper
I'm reading Camus right now, because I'm smarter than you. The Plague, specifically. Now, I'm no genius (I mean come on...GIRLS can beat me at Connect-Four for god's sake. Yes, that's a lower case "g" there. That was intentional. Actually, it wasn't intentional. Either way, I don't know if it would've made sense in the context of Existentialism & Absurdism anyway.) So, I'm no genius, but one thing I DO often do is buy the used books from Amazon.com. Apparently, so does my sister. It was one of her Christmas gifts to me. I asked for a bunch of books last year. Why? Because I'm smarter than you, moron. I can READ. That, and I knew I was going to get everyone else shitty presents, so I didn't ask for the flatscreen 72" plasma TV that I *really* wanted. Thanks for getting it for me anyway, you bastards. (That's sarcasm. I don't have a TV. I sit at home watching a fucking record player. And reading. Fucking READING.)
Anyway, I'm reading the Plague right now. Not particularly uplifting. Or is it? (If I were writing a paper on it, that'd be my thesis statement. And there'd be a dramatic sound cue and zoom in to my inquisitive glare. BLACKOUT. Commercial Break)
But I'm not writing a paper. The guy who read this book before me, on the other hand, probably was. Things are underlined, notes are in the margins, uh...that's about it. Oh! Highlights! Things were highlighted, too. The funny part is that it sometimes seems like things are only underlined or highlighted in every other chapter. And there's much more underlining in the first half of the book. It kinda trails off after that. Someone got lazy, it looks. Also, someone's kinda dumb to be in college. I'm assuming this was a college read. Do kids read this in high school? Anyway, here's my judgemental evidence: (It's all about WHAT's underlined. Very telling. Very telling. I'll probably find out this was MY book in college, and I was stoned. Which would explain why I don't even remember reading it). Being stoned might also explain why he (let's call him Brian)...why Brian had to underline things like "laxity" and jot down "relaxed, slack, careless" in the margin, or underline "innoculations" and write "injection". It gets better.
"conscription": "draft";
"apathy": "lack of feeling, emotion";
"makeshift": "N. Something adopted as a temp. contrivance in an emergency; adj. having character of".
There's more, but I don't feel like finding it.
Dude, just look it up once and remember it. Are you retarded? Yes. You are. Am I judgemental? Yes. But when one defines "prophylactic" in the margins as "preventative", I would hope one wouldn't have to do it AGAIN twenty pages later! I can understand looking things up if you're not smart. That's OK. I sometimes have to look things up myself. Like your Mom's pager number. She keeps on changing it because she's trying to dodge the cops to beat that prostitution rap that she's so obviously guilty of. Am I judgemental? Yes, which is ironic, considering this not-underlined quote:
" ..... "
...........uh. shit. I can't find it. But it was something like "Poor [county magistrate] M. Othon! But can you really feel bad for a judge?" (His son had just died from the Plague, and they're all like "noooo, nooo, he didn't suffer at all, it was real quick. real quick" when in actuality, the passage of him dying is one of the most harrowing, drawn out, and torturous memories of the book) It's all about who gets to decide who lives and who dies. Or something. The quote was pretty good. But I didn't underline it.
Anyway, I'm reading the Plague right now. Not particularly uplifting. Or is it? (If I were writing a paper on it, that'd be my thesis statement. And there'd be a dramatic sound cue and zoom in to my inquisitive glare. BLACKOUT. Commercial Break)
But I'm not writing a paper. The guy who read this book before me, on the other hand, probably was. Things are underlined, notes are in the margins, uh...that's about it. Oh! Highlights! Things were highlighted, too. The funny part is that it sometimes seems like things are only underlined or highlighted in every other chapter. And there's much more underlining in the first half of the book. It kinda trails off after that. Someone got lazy, it looks. Also, someone's kinda dumb to be in college. I'm assuming this was a college read. Do kids read this in high school? Anyway, here's my judgemental evidence: (It's all about WHAT's underlined. Very telling. Very telling. I'll probably find out this was MY book in college, and I was stoned. Which would explain why I don't even remember reading it). Being stoned might also explain why he (let's call him Brian)...why Brian had to underline things like "laxity" and jot down "relaxed, slack, careless" in the margin, or underline "innoculations" and write "injection". It gets better.
"conscription": "draft";
"apathy": "lack of feeling, emotion";
"makeshift": "N. Something adopted as a temp. contrivance in an emergency; adj. having character of".
There's more, but I don't feel like finding it.
Dude, just look it up once and remember it. Are you retarded? Yes. You are. Am I judgemental? Yes. But when one defines "prophylactic" in the margins as "preventative", I would hope one wouldn't have to do it AGAIN twenty pages later! I can understand looking things up if you're not smart. That's OK. I sometimes have to look things up myself. Like your Mom's pager number. She keeps on changing it because she's trying to dodge the cops to beat that prostitution rap that she's so obviously guilty of. Am I judgemental? Yes, which is ironic, considering this not-underlined quote:
" ..... "
...........uh. shit. I can't find it. But it was something like "Poor [county magistrate] M. Othon! But can you really feel bad for a judge?" (His son had just died from the Plague, and they're all like "noooo, nooo, he didn't suffer at all, it was real quick. real quick" when in actuality, the passage of him dying is one of the most harrowing, drawn out, and torturous memories of the book) It's all about who gets to decide who lives and who dies. Or something. The quote was pretty good. But I didn't underline it.
Friday, May 05, 2006
Poop Break
It's important to multitask your work distractions. For example, I just took an afternoon dump, but instead of just dumping, I played Tetris on my cell phone for 6 or 7 minutes. Am I the only one who does this? As a matter of fact, I barely had to take a crap at all. Just a few little droplets. Still, I sat there until I had enough of those long pieces - tetris pieces - to get me out of the jam I was in back when I misplaced that "T" shaped piece. I'm pretty glad I spent the $7 for that cellphone game last time I was in the waiting room at my doctor's office. It was purchased for the express reason of killing time while waiting for the doctor, but I've found it's also very helpful when straining to pinch a loaf. This is my advice to you.
Monday, May 01, 2006
My change purse can kick your pocket's ass
Just think about that next time you tell me you haven't seen one of those since you were at the beach in 1983 and your mom was wearing this wretched floral print one-piece and your Dad had a moustache. You ARE your mom and dad at this point, suckas! Get a change purse! It's hip. Proof? No one else has one.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Cupcakes
My cupcakes rule. Orange flavored cake mix + Dark Chocolate icing. Beat that, assholes. I bet you wish you had some right now. Well too bad. They went to my sister and a certain special lady friend. Who ARE two separate people, by the way.
Girls Cheat
This can be the only explanation for my 0-for-3 Connect Four losing streak. Girls fucking cheat. I am a Connect Four master, and challenge any of you to a tournament. Extra caution will be taken if you're a girl, because I know you're all wily and cunning. I'm not sure how it was pulled off. Maybe the girl took advantage of my slight inebriation to swap the red checkers for the black checkers. Maybe she batted her eyes a few too many times and I went all stupid-like and totally didn't see that diagonal there. All I know is it was not a fair, honest win. Girls Cheat.
Or...or maybe I was right....maybe girls strike me dumb. Maybe their charm and beauty renders me too mentally incapacitated to succeed at children's games. Usually I can win Connect Four with an image-blurring inebriation. But not with girls. They're all like faeries. Evil Faeries. Or Sirens, you know? With their distracting siren song. Fuckers.
It seems like every time I play a girl, they win. Except that time with your Mom. I totally kicked her ass. But she was high anyway, so maybe that doesn't count. Then again, I was high off the crack that she sold me, too. Come to think of it, who even knows if your Mom is a girl anyway? She's got a pretty hairy back.
Or...or maybe I was right....maybe girls strike me dumb. Maybe their charm and beauty renders me too mentally incapacitated to succeed at children's games. Usually I can win Connect Four with an image-blurring inebriation. But not with girls. They're all like faeries. Evil Faeries. Or Sirens, you know? With their distracting siren song. Fuckers.
It seems like every time I play a girl, they win. Except that time with your Mom. I totally kicked her ass. But she was high anyway, so maybe that doesn't count. Then again, I was high off the crack that she sold me, too. Come to think of it, who even knows if your Mom is a girl anyway? She's got a pretty hairy back.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Bored out of my fucking skull
zzzzzzzzzzzzzz
snnxxxxxxxxzzzzzzzzzzzghhmmffhhh.....hefff....
snxxxzzzzzzzzzzzzz...............
gaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhggnnnn....ffff.
Christ, work is bullshit.
It's so boring, I've been drawing in my sketchbook. And taking hour and a half lunches at least 4 times a week. If only I could justify another hour and a half break an hour later. That would really split up the day. As it is, my guilt complex always leads me back to the petri dish to stare at my monitor for the next few hours, opening & closing my iTunes window to make it look like I'm doing something.
The 9 to 5 office job is inhumane, if you ask me. It's not natural for people to be cooped up inside like this all the time, especially with no fucking windows, like me.
Anyone have any good time wasters? I might read a book. Seriously. I kinda like the idea of sitting in my desk chair, my screensaver flashing neon goobers in front of me, legs propped up on the desk, reading. That'd be awesome. I'd rather not be staring at a monitor to kill the 8 hours of my day called "work", but if there's something time consuming and awesome/hilarious out there, I'd love to know what it is.
Alright, I'm going back to sleep. Fuck this.
snnxxxxxxxxzzzzzzzzzzzghhmmffhhh.....hefff....
snxxxzzzzzzzzzzzzz...............
gaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhggnnnn....ffff.
Christ, work is bullshit.
It's so boring, I've been drawing in my sketchbook. And taking hour and a half lunches at least 4 times a week. If only I could justify another hour and a half break an hour later. That would really split up the day. As it is, my guilt complex always leads me back to the petri dish to stare at my monitor for the next few hours, opening & closing my iTunes window to make it look like I'm doing something.
The 9 to 5 office job is inhumane, if you ask me. It's not natural for people to be cooped up inside like this all the time, especially with no fucking windows, like me.
Anyone have any good time wasters? I might read a book. Seriously. I kinda like the idea of sitting in my desk chair, my screensaver flashing neon goobers in front of me, legs propped up on the desk, reading. That'd be awesome. I'd rather not be staring at a monitor to kill the 8 hours of my day called "work", but if there's something time consuming and awesome/hilarious out there, I'd love to know what it is.
Alright, I'm going back to sleep. Fuck this.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Two New Superimportant links
The links themselves aren't superimportant. Only superimportant is superimportant, obviously. However, the world is a boring fucking place, and superimportant things can't possibly happen all the time. In fact, they only happen once or twice a week, if you think about it. While you're waiting for superimportance, the superimportant staff suggests the quality links to your right. The newest additions are New In My Apartment, and To Be Blunt. Both are review sites for things new to this dude's apartment. The only apparent difference is that To Be Blunt reviews things in one sentence or less. The Superimportant staff would like to remind you that anything on any page you may link to from this site is NOT superimportant news, so do not take it as such. The only place to find out anything important about anything is from superimportant.
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