Awful Battle… There’s A Time And A Place And This Ain’t It, Honey(s)

Surprisingly, I’m not as big of a candy junkie as one might think.  Heaven knows I used to be in my high school/college years, but not so much anymore.  In those days, I ate two candy bars per day (Caramel Twix and PB Max).  But that’s neither here nor there nor hear nor their nor hair nor they’re nor hare nor Nair.

AnyWhoppers, that’s not what this post is about.  There is something awfully wrong with this M&M’s commercial.  see if you can pick it out:

If you imagined Green working a stripper pole, I WIN!  (Plus, I also lose as well as you.)  If you didn’t, then check out this awful choice of words:

InASense, Lost… Nostalgia For VD PSA’s

Can you be nostalgic for venereal disease commercials?

Yes, you can be nostalgic for venereal disease commercials.

Comments Round 1

  • I enjoy the euphemism “Love… can happen overnight.”
  • Moustaches like those should be called manstaches.
  • Was that basket player only wearing a t-shirt?
  • They sure don’t make sunglasses like that anymore.  They make them like this.
  • “#1 communicable disease”?  How many communicable diseases are there?  (Oh.)
  • No one in that commercial looked to be under the age of 25.

VD is for everyone, eh?  Let’s run with that…

Comments Round 2

  • Victorian Era Girl has VD?
  • Violinist has VD?
  • Madame Librarian has VD?  (The one in the PSA is not to be confused with Madame Librarian…)
  • Too-Young-To-Be-Wearing-Makeup Girl has VD?
  • Pregnant Mom has VD?
  • Pervert Grocer has VD.  I’m not surprised.
  • What’s with all the ballerinas having VD?
  • Teacher gots VD?
  • Botanist has VD and plantar warts?
  • Creepy Uncle and Nephew has VD? (I opted for this over Father and Son of the Beach.)
  • Old Man Grabby Hands definitely has VD.
  • That baby does seem slutty…
  • Everyone knows joggers are syphilis farms.
  • That lady really loves her horse.
  • What the hell is that burn victim doing to that poor girl?

JusWondering… “I Don’t Think That Is What You Think It Is”

If you didn’t know, in the daytime, I work as a travelling network administrator (I almost wrote newtwork, but I got better).  AnyWAN, I came across found this picture as someone’s background while out in the field:

"Godse"

I nearly lost it.  It couldn’t be?  It wouldn’t be?  It shouldn’t be.  This was in a doctor’s office on one of the laptops, and there’s no way any of the ladies working there were that subversive.

What’s the problem, you might be wondering (aside from the fact it’s fake)?  Ever hear of Goatse.cx (don’t worry… the link is to Wikipedia)?  Essentially, it’s the precursor to 2Girls1Cup (also Wikipedia).

According to Snopes, my hunch was correct.

Those ladies at the office didn’t know that was not a picture of God’s Hands.  But if it was God’s Hands, and the break in the clouds was some other part of God, I don’t ever want to be caught out in the rain ever again…

BONUS GOOFSE!

“Olympicse”

“Yachtse”

Drunken Recollection… Concrete Jungle Where Drinks Are Made Of

Now that I’m clean-shaven and no longer look like this:

The bird is the word.

Or this:

I must admit, I missed my face.  I went through one day of phantom beard, but that was it.  I should mention my regret for removing the season-long Red Wings hockey beard on the first day of the Stanley Cup playoffs, but in order to fly to NYC without hassle, it seemed worth the hassle.  (Thank goatee they’re advancing to Round 2!)

Anysubway, I won’t bore you with the details.  All the details.  Just some of them.

Jay was Hitting One Liners Out of the Park

"Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the crowd that wanted to beat up a guy for wearing a Mets' cap..."

On Friday, we headed to Yankee Stadium to see two of our beloved ex-Tigers play (Curtis Granderson and, um, Marcus Thames), and all day, my buddy Jay was calling ’em like he saw ’em.

Some of things he said that were actually documented:

I need to stop calling these trips vacations and start calling them work out retreats.

If I owned that shirt it’d be my third favorite shirt.

Hey I’m paying twenty bucks to look at empty stages tomorrow.

Steve: Who sings ‘I Can See Clearly Now the Rain is Gone?’
Jay: Ke$ha.

What are you? A garbophobe?

It’s getting all Wendy’s up in here! [This one was mine. – Ed.]

“It’s Getting All Wendy’s Up in Here!”

I wish I had photos as proof, but Wendy’s in Midtown is, simply put, insane.  I don’t think it was an isolated incident either.  The show Ugly Americans even gave a shout out to it.

At any rate, the breakdown of events (this all happened within fifteen minutes):

  • Some one threw their filled drink in the air.
  • A sober girl was trying to get a trashed girl up the stairs.
  • Steve slipped on the spilled drink and dropped everything but his drink.
  • Chris tripped down some stairs while holding only the top bun covered in its toppings.  (He wanted a plain one.)
  • Somebody left a strange package on one of the tables.  (I checked what it was, damned if I remember.)
  • A person kept screaming about how he wanted to kill everyone, and no one reacted.

I don’t know.  It seemed much crazier when I was trashed.

I’m So Proud of Myself for Something Not Proud

This photo's fuzziness doesn't even come close to my eyes' fuzziness that night.

On Saturday, we found a bar called No Idea and like the bar’s name, we had no idea what was in store (hee!).  We stopped here after not getting to play ping-pong at Susan Sarandon’s Spin because they were closing for a private party.

BONUS JAY QUOTE!

Here I was under the impression none of us played ping-pong.

The plan was this: kick back a few cheap drinks, make our way to bar hop in East Village, and finally check out P.D.T.’s in Crif Dogs (our missed mission from last year).  Let’s just say that plan’s quickly becoming an annual tradition.

As soon as the drinks kept flowing (courtesy of an all-you-can-drink party), the remainder of the night became a blur.

Oh yeah – my proud moment… I threw up and quickly returned to drink more.  I never knew I had it in me to do that!

The Drunk Idea of the Trip

Andrew Dice Clay’s reality show should have been called Rollin’ with Dice.  I was going to make a graphic, but fuck it (heehee!).

Happy Find… Micro Mike Rowe

Eye Spy

Sorry, but mentioning this Happy Find sort of feels like nepotism… like something that belongs on STFU, Parents… or like one of those situations where parents make their kids put on performances.

A reenactment:

Parent –  “Show them what you can do, honey?”
Child – “I don’t wanna.”
Parent – “But everyone’s waiting…”
Parent’s Friend that’s either drunk, brutally honest, or both (usually me) – “I’m not.”

Allow me to present to you my side project:

Micro Mike Rowe

If you don’t know Mike Rowe by appearance, you most likely know his voice.  Not only is he the voice of most Discovery Channel shows, he’s also the guy telling you to try a Ford.

Anywhoring, I’m having fun making the photos, and I wanted to share them with you.

The Sh– To Just Sh–ty… Sleeping Options

This is a situation where the object under the microscope isn’t necessarily a great thing that has deteriorated from awesomeness.  It’s a series of sleeping options that start off as, well, The Shit, and quickly nosedive into Just Shitty.

On the complimentary side of the synonym for doo-doo comes this (via Treehugger):

And you thought blankets with sleeves were innovative...

According to inventor, Buckminster Fuller, the sleepsuit is a

transportable and adjustable cocoon that allows for constant air flow in a variety of different positions and environments.

Stages of Metamorphositsdown

Works for me.  Something that doesn’t work for me?  This offering from Japan:

Slippers are optional, I guess.

Here are some thoughts about the above product:

  1. If I’m using a sleeping bag, I’m usually camping.
  2. If I’m camping, and I’m in my sleeping bag, the only time I get up is to use the bathroom.
  3. Open feet and separated legs aren’t much help in that department.
  4. And if you add arms to the sleeping bag, you’re in a snowsuit.
  5. (The only advantage to having separated legs – fleeing a bear.)
  6. (The only other advantage – kicking a tent invader.)

The last thing at the pejorative end of caca and its ilk (via Nerd Approved):

What happens when you drool?

Is this dumb or what?  How can one night stands disappear guilt-free after peeling their cheek away from one of these pillows?  It begs for scribbled excuses, and that prolongs the awkwardness of the morning.  What if he or she wakes up?  What if you mistakenly promise you’ll call?

I guess you could just write, “Stepped out for cigarettes.”

Or better yet – “Here’s a story for Post(It)Secret.”