This is one of those subjects that fills me with so much rage that I’m not convinced I can make it through without punching my computer in the face. It does not help that it’s past midnight and I am tired from drinking.
OK, I know you have seen, or at least heard of, Mtv’s Cribs. Well now they have a new version called “Teen Cribs” that makes me want to dig a hole and bury myself alive. You might think from the title that this program visits the homes of famous teenagers like the Jonas Brothers and shows how awesome they are and how bad you suck. Believe it or not, it’s actually much worse. Teen Cribs goes to the homes of rich families who happen to have teen children. Are you following me? These are just a bunch of random rich asshole teenagers! They are not famous and they have literally achieved nothing more than being lucky enough to fall out of the vagina of a rich woman.
Who the fucking fuck wants to watch some spoiled fuck with unruly hair take you on a tour of their parent’s mansion? No wonder this country is about to implode!
I should have written about this yesterday, since it was actually Talk Like Shakespeare Day, but I was too busy talking like an adult and doing adult things. As far as I know, this bullshit only took place in Chicago but you can waste your time trying to figure it out at talklikeshakespeare.org.
I kind of feel like a jerk for hating “fun” stuff like this but I can’t help it, I just do. Remember International Talk Like a Pirate Day? I hated that just as much, maybe more. So, on Talk Like a Pirate Day do you talk exclusively like a drunken Arrrrgh-style pirate or can you also talk like the pirates from Somalia? What do they say? I think it’s mostly stuff like “I’m going to kill you and dump your body in the ocean.” FUN!
The main reasons I hate things like Talk Like Shakespeare Day is because I used to have to do graphic design for crap like this and I was always amazed at the amount of wasted time that went into these misguided campaigns. Imagine spending weeks working late and taking conference calls with well-meaning poisonous bunch-back’d toads (their website suggests saying that instead of cursing) about Talk Like Shakespeare Day. No seriously, sit back and imagine it, I will wait…
I made the mistake of saying “bless you” to someone after she sneezed today. Little did I know this woman was going to spend the next 8 hours sneezing at her desk next to mine. I don’t even like saying “bless you” once! Why am I expressing sympathy for a person who simply sneezed? Is sneezing such a huge trauma that I need to call upon the Lord and savior? “Hey God, I know you are busy figuring out who will win the Super Bowl and who’s getting a Grammy next year but we have a bit of a situation down here in the graphics room. I don’t want to alarm you but this girl just sneezed and I’m going to need to put in an official blessing request. Thanks. I mean, amen.”
The problem today was once I said it that first time, I was locked into blessing this woman like an overworked Jesus all fucking day long. I blessed her exactly 4 times before deciding it was more than I could take. We were the only people in a VERY quiet office so each time I allowed an un-blessed sneeze to linger it was painful. Why? Why do I need to stress over YOUR sneezing? I am literally never saying “bless you” ever again. Get over it. So sayeth me.
Sorry this post is a little late, I was just too busy last night. Sue me! Just keep in mind, if you do choose to bring a lawsuit against me it will be very frivolous and will most likely be dismissed by any court. I think you should save us both time and money and drop the lawsuit. UNLESS, you take me to People’s Court! That would totally rule.
I really do HATE being late though. It doesn’t really bother me that much when other people are running late but I am personally very punctual. I’m one of those people who actually gets to the airport 2 hours before my flight. Does that make me anal? Do I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder? Do I have Obsessive-Anal Disorder? I’m not sure what makes me this way but I am pretty sure it has something to do with my anus.
I made the mistake of stopping on Mtv this afternoon while looking for something on TV to nap to. I love to nap to the vapid drone of the television. I just do. Did you know your brain is less active while watching TV than it is when you are sleeping? Well, my brain just about shut off to the point of forgetting to make my heart beat and my lungs breathe after I made the mistake of watching an hour of the new season of the Real World/Road Rules Challenge.
In college (and maybe a little out of college) I used to casually watch The Real World. I didn’t technically enjoy it, but I watched enough to be able to tell you that Jay on the London cast loved mac and cheese and that Colin from the Hawaii cast was totally NOT into Amaya but made the mistake of making out with her, probably because he wanted to fondle her huge boobs, and she totally fell in love with him and wanted to snuggle and baby talk and make him kiss stuffed animals every night in his bunk bed but Colin was like rolling his eyes and feeling totally trapped but didn’t know how to get out of it. However I had to stop watching the Real World when A) I realized I was an adult and B) Mtv starting exclusively casting idiots with explosive rage disorder.*
The only thing worse than the obnoxious alcoholics that kick, scream and casually fuck their way around the overly-colorful Ikea catalog that is the Real World house is the same people coming back even more obnoxious and alcoholic-y year after pathetic year to compete** in the Real World/Road Rules Challenge. These people really have got to be the biggest collection of douchebags mankind has ever known.
In the same way that you are a shitty parent if you let your kids watch Bratz, you are an equally bad parent if you let your kids watch ANYTHING on Mtv. Unless you want your child to grow up thinking life is simply a series of ever-growing drunken, semi-nude tantrums, I suggest you keep their tiny brains far away from Mtv.
*I just made that up but I’m sure it’s real.
**Compete = fighting and fucking each other
Look, I just want to shake your hand, not dance the forbidden Lambada with you.
I was in a band for years that primarily appealed to a male audience that was usually younger than I am. Often times after we saw a hundred faces and rocked them all, those faces would line up to tell us how fucking awesome we were. They were right. Maybe I’m a fuddy-duddy, but I used to PANIC when some young DJ-type guy would stretch his hand towards me with a smile on his face because I knew I was about to fail at being “cool.”
I could always tell right away from the angle of the hand that this was not going to be my grandfather’s handshake. Oh no my friend, this handshake was going to involve all my concentration and would most likely end in a one-armed, back punching, bro hug. If not a hug, it would at the very least, require me to anticipate what his hand was going to do next in a lame attempt to mimic his movements, thus maintaining my status as the coolest guy in the room. If we locked hands in a soul shake would it end there, or do we have to do that finger-snap thing as we release? I’m sweating just thinking about it. Not only do I not know how to do that finger snap thing, I don’t fucking want to know how! I refuse to practice. I refuse to learn.
I bet a Guy Fieri handshake lasts like 45 minutes and ends shirtless. I have to go throw up.
Am I the only idiot who is still watching Lost? I’ve never really liked the show but now I have to see it through to the end. I just want answers God damn it! This season they are taking me to the edge of insanity with the addition of time travel. Fuck me. I guarantee, those jerk writers added time travel to the mix because it allows them to do anything they want. They can get out of all the corners they backed themselves into by simply letting time travel explain it away.
My slow noodle is about to explode from all this jumping back and forth through time. Just tell me what the fucking smoke monster is and why there are polar bears and pirate ships on this piece of shit island already! Is it heaven? Is John Locke Jesus? Is this whole show taking place in Hurley’s fat head? WHAT DO THE NUMBERS MEAN?
Here’s the deal, time travel never works in any TV show or movie. There are simply too many holes and complications to make it plausible in any plot. I mean right now on Lost we have to accept that there is a child Ben and an adult Ben walking around at the same time for Christ’s sake. Don’t even get me started on the disappearing photo in Back to the Future!
On a side note: I just overheard a commercial for the new “Fast and Furious” movie and they quoted the following review… “The best of all the Fast and Furious movies.” That’s like saying “The best tasting bucket of vomit.” I wish I had a time machine so I could go back 45 seconds and change the channel. Or maybe I could go back to 2001. Not to stop 9/11 but to kill everyone responsible for The Fast and The furious. FINE, I’ll kill Osama Bin Laden too. I’m so nice.
Since I tricked all your sucka asses yesterday I’m giving you a double post (sort of) today!
OK, let’s get into it. I am sick of the term “bling,” I’m sick of actual bling, and I’m sick of people who say and/or own bling. I’m extra sick of the full use of the saying “bling bling.” As soon as your mom knows a slang term it’s over. I heard a news anchor say “dissed” a few months ago and I nearly set my TV and my own ears on fire. I’m glad the world economy is collapsing because maybe it will put an end to this ridiculous diva attitude everyone walks around with. Actually, now that I think about it most of the idiots obsessed with blingy crap are already poor. Fuck, bling is here to stay.
And while you’re at it, take your 22″ rims and shove ’em up your bling hole. Why is it 98% of the time I see a car with “fancy” rims it is painfully obvious that those rims cost more than the blue book value of the piece of shit car they are attached to?
We have such wonderful priorities don’t we? When I say “we” I mean not me.
