The madness continues. Today I need a PLURAL NOUN. Don't we all?
(And don't forget to vote for Round 3!)
UPDATE: Voting for Round 4 is now open. Your plural nouns are OCTOGENARIANS, BASTARDS, ELK, DILDOS and EDITORIALS. Make your voice heard!
UPDATE 2: BASTARDS wins!
Friday, April 28, 2006
The madness continues. Today I need a PLURAL NOUN. Don't we all?
I don't care what the consequences are.
Brids can fall out of the skies for all I care. Trees can wither and rot. The human lifeline may last no more than another three generations. I don't give a damn.
Whatever its place in the ecosystem, it has to be stopped. Whatever the cost.
Can I hear an Amen?
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Jim the Bastard sent me this link at work, but I don’t know if he’s gonna blog about it (and can’t be arsed to raise my voice over the cubicle divider and ask, and it wouldn’t stop me anyway, since you need to know this. Yes, you, my sweet one), so here goes.
David Copperfield was mugged yesterday.
Or rather, he was almost mugged, and he used his superpowers to get out of it. The Superficial writes:
David Copperfield and two of his assistants were robbed at gun point after one of his magic shows Sunday night by three armed teens. The best part of the story is that Copperfield actually did some magic on them, pulling out all of his pockets to show they were empty, even though he had a cell phone, passport and wallet in them.
That’s WAY cooler than making the Statue of Liberty disappear.
I need a COMPARATIVE ADJECTIVE (such as, say, "larger.") Work those fevered lexicons, my lovelies!
UPDATE: Voting is now open for these five worthy adjectives: BUSTIER (which, I have to admit, on first read I thought was one of my favorite nouns), DEADLIER, SQUISHIER, HOLIER and SKANKIER. Even if you've submitted a word, you can vote (either for your own or someone else's).
UPDATE 2: SKANKIER wins the day! I feel like I'm on MTV's Total Request Live.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
I need a NOUN. Gimme one!
UPDATE: Voting is now open for this noun. Your choices are: SQUID, RASTAFARIAN, MANGO, VAPOR and PHLEGM. Now c'mon back and vote! Voting is open until around 10 tomorrow. Meanwhile, a new part of speech is looming just above.
UPDATE 2: Squid takes it, 2 to 1! (And feel free to vote even if you've submitted a word -- either for your own word or another.)
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Strap yourselves in… for the slowest game of Mad Libs ever!
Here’s how it works: I’ve selected a piece of prose, and have picked out the words that we’ll subsitute. You know, like a Mad Lib. Don’t make me explain the whole mad Libs concept to you. Just the online thing should do the trick, unless you’re a total sore elbow. But every now and then, I’ll post a part of speech. Then you guys post suggestions for the part of speech in the comments section (in the interest of sanity, please limit yourself to one suggestion per round). After a little while, I’ll close suggestions and open the floor (that selfsame comments section) to voting for the best suggestion of the bunch. And then I’ll dutifully alter the original text to reflect the choice.
Sound ridiculous? You’re right! Think it’s prone to fail? Not half as much as I do! But it’s a plan, and I’ll soldier on through it if you will. Don’t make me pick my own plural nouns, yo… it won’t be pretty.
Now that you've got the gist, click here and scroll down for the most recent entries!
So, to start us off, I’m looking for a VERB.
Bring it, fellow babies.
UPDATE: Nominations are now closed. Voting is open for MURDER, PLAGIARIZE, and CANOODLE through 10 tomorrow morning, or thereabouts. To the comments section, me hearties!
UPDATE 2: PLAGIARIZE takes it.
Monday, April 24, 2006
I just heard an interview with two children’s authors on On the Media, and guess what? They’re both assholes. Can we just put this kind of fuckery away when there are children present? Please? Not only is it just plain fucking evil, but it'll bore 'em worse than bible stories.
I was on the treadmill at the gym this morning (more on that later) and glanced up at Good Morning America, which had flashed a scary-looking mug-shot type photo up on the screen. The closed captioning said:
”He’s wonderful. The murders of March 12…”
And I wondered – how the hell do you make that jump from “He’s wonderful” to murder? Even vocally, it seems quite a shift to ask of any anchor.
And then I realized the closed-captioning typist was wrong. It should have read, “He’s wanted for the murders of March 12.”
So psycho-killer guy, whoever you are, just remember. It ain’t just your momma who loves you – the CC operator thinks you’re wonderful, too.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
WOLVERINE ORIGINS #1: Oh, god. Having Steve Dillon do the art for this is like tying an expensive Easter bonnet on a toothless crack whore--more than anything, it just underscores the ghoulish desperation.I'm never gonna read this book--despite sweeeet Steve Dillon (Preacher) art--but after reading that, I have to admit that I'm happy it exists.
Friday, April 21, 2006
This morning at work, we were discussing the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, and the Seven Wonders of the Modern World, and I expressed some disappointment that Led Zeppelin IV was included in neither group (1971 is ancient, right?). Then Mike found a site listing the Seven Wonders of Chicago, and which seems a little ridiculous to me. But in that spirit, I present…
The Seven Wonders of My House!
1) The Tivo, which learns to do something new almost every day. From podcasting to playing my mp3s to seeking out episodes of the Dick Van Dyke show and the Twilight Zone, I’m filled with amazement at each new step. It’s like a son to me.
2) The CD racks. In a house as cluttered as ours, our CD collection bucks the trend by actually being alphabetized. I had nothing to do with this, and consider it a failure as a husband that Kathy could even get bored enough not only to try to do this, but to succeed.
3) The marble floor panel in our living room. It used to be a heating vent, from when the devil would burn souls in our basement, but then it was covered up with plywood and carpet. When the previous owners took up the carpet to reveal the (mostly) hardwood floor, they needed a solution for the plywood, and came up with this ingenious panel.
4) The Great Wall of Comics. When we moved in, there was a sizable alcove in the basement that, it turns out, fits my comics collection almost perfectly (excepting trade paperbacks and bookshelf comics, at least). As the years go by, I see the need for either a sledgehammer or eBay. But the Great Wall astounds me every time I go downstairs to do laundry. Sometimes I think I see Darkseid hanging there, merged with one of my long boxes.*
5) Jurassic Dryer. When we do our laundry, our dryer bellows and screeches like it’s full of dinosaurs. I fully expect to get eaten by a velociraptor covered in static-cling sheets one of these days.
6) The ferret cages. A weasel wonderland, with hammocks and tubes and snuggly flannel bedding, these are ingeniously configured so that, in order to re-hang the hammocks after washing, you have to either have a partner or use all four limbs and a tail to position the hooks.
7) The Second-Floor Stasis Field. There’s a room on the second floor which we laughably call the “guest room,” even though it’s the last place we’d ever take a guest we liked. We’ve pulled up the carpeting and stripped the paint off of all the molding around the floor, doors and windows. And then… time stopped. Incredibly, the room looks just as it did six months ago.
So, those are the Seven Wonders of My House. Does your house have Wonders? Let me know in comments, or post them on your blog and link from here. And good god, pass it along to your friends and evil twins. This is a baby meme, and it needs your spank on the ass to get it started.
* I’m aware that you probably don’t get this joke. It’s just as well, really.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Monday, April 17, 2006
It occurred to me that I've been hearing this old joke for years, but no one's ever taken it to its next logical step:
Did you hear the one about the constipated mathematician? He worked it out with a pencil.
But I've never heard anyone suggest it was a No. 2 pencil.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Oh, how KTBuffy has suffered.
She went to see Lestat on Broadway earlier this week, and reports back to us. It's the sort of self-sacrifice that's appropriate for Good Friday, if you ask me.
I read Interview with a Vampire in college, and read six others in between chapters, it bored me so. But I stuck with it, feeling sure that there would be some payoff in all the puff. But the only payoff I got was the sure knowledge that if you open one of Rice's books and start reading, you'll soon lack the will for even the simplest of tasks, such as flinging it away. I won't make that mistake again.
But for our pleasure, KT reproduces Rice's bio from the Playbill. It's florid and self-important and everything that's awful about Rice's writing, in one compact package. It is the white dwarf star of Anne Rice.
Go and read. It's like a vaccine: If it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger.
I have totally sold The New Yorker short. This week's Shouts & Murmurs column, "Nostalgia," by George Saunders, is a stone riot. Here's the first paragraph:
The other day I was watching TV and it occurred to me that I’ve become a prude. The show in question was innocuous enough, nothing shocking—just an episode of “Hottie Leaders,” featuring computer simulations of what various female world leaders would look like naked and in the throes of orgasm—but somehow, between that and the Pizza Hut commercial where Paris Hilton and Jessica Simpson engage in some “girl-on-girl” action in a vast field of pizza sauce, something snapped. I know what the problem is: I’m old. I came of age in a simpler sexual time.
Go read the rest. You know you want to.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
In early December, I ordered a enamel-coated cast-iron Dutch oven from Restaurant Source online. I was told it wouldn't be available before Christmas, but their shipment should arrive from Europe on January 20th, and I would have it soon after that.
May I direct your attention to the birds chirping, the blossoms blooming, cartoon animals frolicking and the happy people walking around without jackets? You might think that signals the arrival of spring, but it really is a result of my wife finally getting her long-promised Christmas present. God bless us, everyone!
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Well, the tough part of Spontaneous Combustion is over. I've gotten my assignment (including prepicked first line, location, and cultural reference), written my five-minute play, and read it out loud a few times to make sure it sounds good. It's another odd one, but I think it works.
For those who don't know, Spontaneous Combustion is an impromptu theater festival, in which playwrights write plays on Friday night for actors to have up and running by Sunday. Nothing about the plays -- not the cast, the the script, zilch, nothing, nada -- is known at the beginning of the weekend. Then, given certain parameters (outlined above), playwrights go home and pound the keys until something coherent comes out. Then, on Saturday at noon, we give the scripts to the cast, who read them with horror. They memorize their lines, we block 'em out, and everything starts humming along by Sunday night, when the show opens. Exactly 50 hours from when we first met to get our instructions, as it turns out.
Spontaneous Combustion is a little bigger this time, in a number of ways. For one thing, we have the theater through Thursday, so there are five nights on which you can see the show. Also, it's a fuller night of theater, with several more plays than usual. If you're anywhere near New York City, please come. I'm writing, my friend Jen Thatcher is writing, and I've seen enough of the actors in this bunch perform before, so I expect great things.
Curtain is at 8 p.m., and tickets are $15 (except for Thursday night, which is $25, but with a free party afterward). You can reserve seats (sometimes it sells out, so it's wise to do so) by calling 212-501-4751. Here's the Theatresource website, so you can find directions and whatnot. And I know how you love your whatnot.
So come out and be surprised. I always am.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
...you wake up with fleas.
I used to have some grudging respect for Curt Weldon. When I lived in PA, he was my representative, and although there were a lot of matters I had substantive disagreements with, I thought he was an honorable guy.
But when a tough election year hits, I guess you show your true colors. And when you're part of the Republican machine, you fight dirty--especially if your opponent is a veteran, as is Joe Sestak.
I guess it's all part of the Repug playbook, trying to politicize a little girl's brain tumor. Atrios has the details.
Mr. Weldon, when my dad had problems with his lungs, we took him out of state. Because we knew the people at Johns Hopkins were going to give him the best possible care. When a loved one has a health emergency, nothing else matters. And it's ridiculous and low to try to make political hay out of it.
I thought you were better than that.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Just when I think the Bush regime can't be any worse...
...comes this story by Howard Altman of the Tampa Tribune: Homeland Security Deputy Press Secretary Arrested
Here are the first two paras:
A Department of Homeland Security deputy press secretary was arrested this evening on charges that he was using a computer to seduce a child.
Brian Doyle, 55, was arrested at 7:45 p.m. in his Silver Springs, Maryland home on 23 charges related to the use of a computer to seduce a child and transmitting harmful materials to a minor after a joint investigation by the Polk County Sheriff’s office, Florida State Attorney Jerry Hill’s office and the Department of Homeland Security.
Now, I'm fairly sure Bush didn't hire Doyle himself. Most likely, he just hired the guy who hired this guy. Who also happens to be the guy who is in charge of our nation's fucking security.
Doesn't anybody vet anything anymore? Christ, what sorry fucking excuse for leaders we have.
(via Liberal Catnip)
The way I see it, there are two kinds of people. Those who want to read a thoughtful and cogent column on immigration, and those who want to read an essay on how good the Mighty Thor is at laying down the smack talk.
Who says you can’t please everybody?