Volume 22

This is what ruined Christmas

2012-01-15T11:45:00.003-05:00

Grady

2011-12-30T17:48:00.001-05:00

This is my sister's seventeen pound ocicat, Grady, sleeping on top of my fridge.

Time for my annual post

2011-11-05T17:36:00.000-04:00

It's been a year since I last posted. Some of you, or at least one or two of you, probably wonder what I've been up to. I wish I could tell you that I've been engrossed in several exciting projects, but I've pretty much just been dicking around.

Pointless New Post About Nothing

2010-11-05T21:17:00.000-04:00

I keep saying that I'm going to do a new post, but then I don't. I'm too lazy, too disinterested in blogging, and I fell off the video game wagon a month or so back. After fifteen or so years of not playing video games, I'm now spending endless amounts of time playing Minecraft. And it's not even like the game's all that great either. My Minecraft life is about as dull as my real life, but at least I get to mine for stuff and build things.

Here's a clip of someone playing on YouTube if you aren't familiar with how this game looks.

------------

On November 10, this blog turns eight years old. All the blogs I read back when I started are dead except for Dooce. I feel like the old guy at the nursing home with no more family and friends because they all died years ago.

So, on that morbid note, I'm mothballing Volume 22. I have no plans to post anything else, but who knows what I'll do.

A Turtle

2010-08-05T17:48:00.000-04:00

“Want to see my turtle?”

“Is that some kind of euphemism?”

“Why is it that when a man talks to a woman all of a sudden everything is fraught with double meanings? It’s not all about me trying to get in your pants.”

“So it’s not a euphemism?”

“No.”

“It’s a real turtle? And not something weird like you wearing a big fake turtle shell on your back and crawling around?”

“No, it’s a real turtle. Would you like to see it?”

“I don’t like turtles.”

That's the cover, huh? Yikes.

2010-05-28T20:32:00.000-04:00

For six months I've been planning on posting some rather racist covers from old issues of Cracked back when it was a marginally amusing magazine rather than a marginally amusing website. I knew they were laying on my desk, but it was too much trouble to scan or photograph them, so I just left them there. Now with Gary Coleman dying today I figure it's a good time to post these since he's on both covers.

On the first cover, Gary Coleman and Sylvester P. Smythe are boxing. Smythe has a black eye and Coleman has a white eye. Yeah. This was 1982. On the second cover (from 1980), Gary Coleman and Todd Bridges happily smear shoe polish on Sylvester P. Smythe.

I was fairly shocked at these covers when I dug them out of an ancient stack of magazines months ago. I know that these were most likely unintentionally offensive, but I still can't fathom this type of stuff being published on the cover of a national magazine in the early 80's.

[Pointless explanatory notes: The white guy on both covers, Sylvester P. Smythe, was (is?) Cracked's mascot. He's no Alfred E. Neuman. (I didn't link to the Alfred E. Neuman Wikipedia page because you should know who he is. And if you don't, then you should be flung onto a huge anthill.)

Both covers were drawn by the legendary John Severin.]

I know I put it somewhere!

2010-05-27T20:15:00.000-04:00

You ever lose money in your house? Isn't fun wracking your brain trying to figure out where you put it? Asking yourself, "Did I accidentally throw it away?" This is exactly what I've been doing on and off since maybe October or November.

My money got mislaid after I had to move several tons of crap during some quasi-renovations. What was so annoying was the shear quantity of money that I mislaid: $170,185,000,000,001. I'm totally serious.

Of course it was Zimbabwean currency, which is basically worthless, but I paid money for it on Ebay and I was pissed that I might have accidentally thrown it out.

Earlier, I took a book off the shelf and the bills fell out. There's only ten of them. Why I decided to stick them in a book I rarely look at escapes me.

Now maybe I can find that 8GB USB thumb drive that got lost in the same quasi-renovation.

Sunday Thoughts

2010-05-23T18:46:00.000-04:00

A couple of weeks ago I was thinking about time travel and how if I went back in time to before the wheel existed I could invent it myself. Then I started to realize how difficult it would be to make a wheel, let alone an axle to put it on. I'd be completely useless back then. So, in conclusion, I vow not to travel back in time.

More Lurching

2010-05-16T08:03:00.000-04:00

Here's a short story type thing I wrote last year that was based on a scam email I got multiple times. I was going to submit this some online literary magazine, but then I decided not to bother since I could just as easily have no one read it here.

From Mrs. Rebecca Williams

NO 112 Rue Des Martyrs Cocody
Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire

ATTN:
DEAREST ONE OF GOD

I am the above named person from Kuwait. I am married to Mr. Benson Williams, who worked with Kuwait embassy in Ivory Coast for nine years before he died in the year 2004. We were married for eleven years without a child because I don’t like children. He died after contacting a rare disease from illegally imported kangaroo meat. I know it was foolish to make a stew with something as potentially hazardous as illegally imported kangaroo meat, but if you’ve ever eaten kangaroo meat you would understand. The outcome was tragic, yes, but still, sometimes I think it was worth it. There really is nothing quite like kangaroo meat.

Before his death we were both born again Christians. Since his death I have come under the influence of a necromancer named Steve. I have decided not to remarry or get a child outside my matrimonial home which the Steve is against. I asked why he was against it, but he just shrugged and said he didn’t need a reason. I guess that’s his business, but I would kind of like to have a reason. Sometimes Steve is so obstinate. Don’t you hate that kind of behavior in a person? I know he has a lot on his mind what with raising the dead for his own nefarious purposes, but he doesn’t have to be so uncommunicative and brusque.

When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of $2.5 Million (Two Million Five Hundred U.S. Dollars) in the bank here in Abidjan in suspense account. After he died he no longer deposited any more money in the bank. Some of my fondest memories of my husband are of him rolling naked in piles of money, screaming, “It’s all mine! It’s all mine!” Everyone has their curious peccadilloes and rolling naked in money was my husband’s. The funny thing was I never grew tired of watching him rolling and screaming while flinging armfuls of cash into the air. And he also never grew tired of rolling and screaming in piles of money. You would think it would get old after a while, but I guess it didn’t lose its appeal for him. The odd thing about all of this is I never had any real desire to roll in the money myself. Now I kind of regret not at least trying it out, who knows, I may have enjoyed it, but it’s too late now.

Presently, the fund is still with the bank. Recently, my Doctor told me that I have serious sickness which as far as can be determined wasn’t caused in any way by the illegally imported kangaroo meat or by my activities as an apprentice necromancer. The doctor thinks that I have what’s called psychic monkey fever, which is a rare condition where the infected person can communicate psychically with primates. I know it sounds exciting, but I tell you it’s no adventure having to psychically communicate with monkeys whenever they are within a 100 meter radius of me. The monkeys think only of food, sex, and territory. There’s no romance among the primates, so you can leave your sentimentalism about the animal kingdom in the First World. The one thing that disturbs me most is my knowledge that the monkeys know I can communicate with them psychically. I don’t think the monkeys like the idea of someone being in psychic communication with them, but it’s hard to tell what with their obsessions with food, sex, and territory.

You may ask why I don’t simply get my friend Steve the necromancer to reanimate my corpse after I die of psychic monkey fever. The answer is that I don’t wish to spend all eternity on earth as a member of the undead. No, it is best that I simply be allowed to die.

Having known my condition, I decided to donate this fund to an individual that will utilize this money the way I am going to instruct herein. I want a space ship built so that underprivileged astronauts can leave the earth just like those rich NASA people who think they’re so special. Also, I want enough of it set aside so that my corpse can be launched into outer space. It has to break the bonds of the earth’s gravitational pull. I won’t settle for being shot into a low level orbit only to reenter the earth’s atmosphere and burn up like so much space junk.

The Bible made us to understand that blessed is the hand that giveth. I took this decision because I don’t have any child that will inherit this money because I don’t like children and my husband’s relatives are not progressives and I don’t want my husband’s efforts to be used by unbelievers in affordable space travel for all. I don’t want a situation where this money will be used in a ridiculous way. Those relatives of his will use the money to pay for vaccinations for the poor, I just know it. This is why I am taking this decision. I am not afraid of death hence I know where I am going--into space! I know that I am going to be in the bosom of the galaxy. My dead body will be my space ship and it will travel for all eternity. Well, it will travel for all eternity unless it crashes into another planet or gets hit by an asteroid, but let us hope such a thing does not happen.

I don’t need any telephone communication in this regard because of my health hence the presence of my husband’s relatives is around me always I don't want them to know about this development. They will for sure foil my plans to launch my body into outer space if they found out about it. Why they’re so against space travel I will never know. With sufficient rocket power all things are possible. As soon as I receive your reply I shall give you the contact of the bank here in Abidjan. My happiness is that I lived a life of a worthy space-traveling necromancer. Whoever that wants to travel in space should be able to do it affordably, be they pauper, necromancer, or even electrician.

Contact me on the above e-mail address for more information; any delay in your reply will give me room in sourcing another individual for this same purpose. Please assure me that you will act accordingly as I stated herein. Hoping to receive your reply.

Remain blessed in the quest for affordable space travel.
Yours truly,
Mrs. Rebecca Williams.

Lurching Down Memory Lane

2010-05-09T19:01:00.000-04:00

Here's a collage I made back in the mid 90's.

Burn it! Burn it, I say!

2010-05-06T17:14:00.002-04:00

Last year while digging through a bunch of old crap I'd written, I found what's probably the oldest extant short story I've ever written. It was written circa 1985 in pencil on notebook paper. I was sixteen years old. I've typed it out for your pleasure rather than burning it like I should have done.

Murray’s Freezer

     Joe’s truck pulled into Murray’s yard. Murray didn’t have the five thousand dollars he owed Joe. Joe stepped out of his truck, he had large pipe-wrench in his hand. Joe didn’t bother to knock on the door, he just knocked it down. Joe was a large man, about seven feet tall. He weighed about five-hundred pounds. Murray was five feet eleven inches tall and one-hundred and ninety pounds.
     “Pay or die, Murray!” he said.
     “AAAAHHH!!” said Murray.
     Joe picked up Murray and threw him across the room, knocking him out. Joe picked Murray up and put him in the big freezer Murray kept in his garage. Joe then drove away in Murray’s new car.
     And for the next 40,000 years that freezer hummed on through great wars and famines. It was a good freezer.
     Two archaeologists dug up the freezer and were amazed it was still running, and that a guy named Murray was inside of it. Later at the University of Quau, some doctors thawed Murray out. After he was completely thawed and received electric shock a few times, he came around.
     The doctors asked him a few questions. He was confused at first, but then finally awoke.
     “Do you know that you have been frozen for 40,000 years” they asked.
     “I have? Like, wow, man. What a trip!”

Driving Around in Circles

2010-05-02T20:05:00.000-04:00

A few days ago, through my job, I got an opportunity to go to my first ever NASCAR race. It was all free; all I had to do was chip in for the rental vehicle we used to drive up to Richmond.

Honestly, I'm not that into auto racing anymore. If this had been 1995 I probably would've been excited beyond control, but since it's 2010, I was only mildly excited. On the drive up my body decided a good substitute for excitement was car sickness.

About 25 miles outside of Richmond we had to pull over so I could throw up. As I barfed my guts out one of my coworkers got my camera out and took pictures of me. My own camera. Bastard.

Did anything else interesting happen? Not really. My coworkers tried and failed to get me drunk, I saw Darrell Waltrip, and sitting in the grandstands just below me were not one, but two girls with that stupid Kate Gosselin reverse mullet.

Here's Flickr links to big photos of Waltrip and the reverse mullet girls.

Yeah, yeah, scam, scam, blah, blah... Wait, what did you just say?

2010-04-23T18:40:00.000-04:00

I've mentioned in the past how I like scam emails, especially ones with convoluted stories about someone needing help getting millions out of a bank in Nigeria or someplace. (In fact, I used to have a blog about such emails, but I got tired of it.)

Lately I've been collecting these emails for reasons that remain mysterious, but I haven't really been reading them. I just slap them into a Word document and get on with my dull life. Well, I should really read some of these things. Today I got one that ordinarily I wouldn't have bothered to read, but for some reason I read a little of it--and it's completely nuts.

Dear Friend,

How are you? I hope all is well with your family, friends and pets. I hope this urgent mail meets you in a perfect condition. We have no time to waste regarding the information I am about to tell you, it is an urgent and serious matter.

My name is Professor FRANK, senior data analyst here at the CERN institute based here in Geneva (http://public.web.cern.ch/public/) CERN, the European Organization for Nuclear Research, is one of the world's largest and most respected centres for scientific research. Its business is fundamental physics, finding out what the Universe is made of and how it works. You may have seen on the news that, in recent days, our Large Hadron Collider machine has been colliding high-speed beams of energy in order to explore new physics and understand how the universe began. CERN have been adamant that this is safe, however I KNOW THE TRUTH.

The truth is that this experiment that CERN are conducting is extremely dangerous, and could cause global disaster. This experiment has a 95% of causing a black hole, thus swallowing a large area of the planet. The scientists do not want you to know this as they know it will cause panic. However, I can help you.

I am arranging for a number of selected people to be evacuated to a safe location on an island in the South Pacific via aeroplane. You have been selected from random to take part in this evacuation, thus continuing the survival of the human race.

Please, if you are interested, email me back immediately with the following information:

Full name:
Age:
Contact number:
Country:
Email address:

Please send all emails to my private box:>
european_organization_nuclear_research@hotmail.com
Regards, and God bless.
Professor FRANK

Why can't most of my email be this wonderfully insane. I don't ask for much in life, decent food, good porn, a comfy bed, and insane email. That's not too much to ask, is it?

Take that, Mr. Nosey!

2010-04-16T12:15:00.000-04:00

This morning I went to a depressing semi-pawnshop and bought a 4GB SD drive for $10. As a lark, I decided to run a free data recovery program on it to see if I could find something interesting.

This data recovery program (called DiskDigger) was able to find loads and loads of images on that SD card. The problem? It was almost nothing but pictures of naked super morbidly obese women and grannies. Yes, grannies. These were all images gleaned from the web, not pictures they had taken themselves. I'd basically bought someone's secret porn stash, and to put it mildly, their tastes in porn differ significantly from mine.

I typed this with a braille keyboard since I had to pull my eyes out and fling them across the room. Sadly, I'll never be able to wash the images of granny porn out of my head.

Now I need to find out if it's possible to clean an SD card with rubbing alcohol without ruining it. I'm almost positive it has residual spooge on it.

Sparkly!!!!111

2010-04-15T19:41:00.001-04:00

Supposedly this Text Space thing is used by all the kids with their My Spaces, Facebooks, Yahoos and whatnots. I don't understand the internet and new things frighten me, but I did manage to make a sparkly text with this thing.

It's supposed to be an animated gif, but Blogger seems to have broken it. And it just ain't that funny without the animated sparkly stuff.

I want one

2010-04-13T14:37:00.003-04:00

Feel it up

2010-04-13T13:31:00.002-04:00

I've been reading about this supposed book of porn for the blind that's been all over the news, "with explicit text and raised pictures of naked men and women", so I had to find these raised images of naked people to judge for myself, seeing as how I'm an expert in the field of porno.

The image included on the link above isn't sexy at all. In fact, it's creepy as hell. What do the other images look like? Surprisingly, they aren't that hard to find online.

Tactile Mind [NSFW!], the name of the book/magazine, has its own blog. But right away I can see that this isn't what the news articles said it was. This isn't a porn magazine being launched, it's an expensive art book. Also, the images (which is what I wanted to see in the first place) are not exactly what I would call arousing, they're more creepy and arty.

I could drone on at length about how the media lazily misrepresents things such as art for shock value and yucks, but I won't because I don't feel like it.

Great post, huh? Glad I'm blogging again? No? Ha-ha.

Print is dead

2010-03-29T16:16:00.000-04:00

Hmmm... Somebody emailed me an experimental poem. It's good to see the avant-garde spirit alive and well in these dull times. And email is a far better method of publishing and distributing literature than print.

Ake another cake for you. [_She makes a very, very small cake and puts
it in the oven._] BEGGAR. I thank you, good woman. [_The woman takes the
cake from the oven._] WOMAN. This cake is too large to give away. I will
give you a slice of bread. [_She cuts a slice from a loaf of bread._]
BEGGAR.
I thank you-- WOMAN. A slice is too much to give
away. Here
is a crust for you. [_The beggar shakes her head._] BEGGAR. May you
never taste cake again! May the very cake in your mouth seem to be
crust!
If you will not give, you shall not have! WOMAN.

Go, go! [_The beggar throws off her cloak; a_ FAIRY
_is seen._] WOMAN. A Fairy! You are a Fairy? FAIRY. I am the Fairy
of Good Deeds. You would not give--you shall not have! [_The Fairy
goes._] WOMAN. As if cake could
ever taste like
bread! 'Tis impossible--impossible! (_She

eats a cake._) What is this? I see

Yeah, I know it's just spam, but I like it. Well, sorta.

NaBloIgMo?

2010-03-28T16:20:00.000-04:00

Today I found out there was a NaBloPoMo, which is the National Blog Posting Month where the challenge is to post something on your blog every day for a month. I wonder if there's something for people who ignore their blogs for a full month because I would totally rule at doing that.

Incidentally, I'm not that impressed by anyone posting something to their blog every day for a month. It's not that big of a deal. I think that the first year of my blog's existence, I posted something on all but two or three days. Go look. On better thought, don't look because that crap's embarrassing.

News from my hometown

2010-03-20T18:13:00.000-04:00

Here's a clip from a newspaper in Richmond, VA that concerns something demented that happened months ago down here in Danville, VA. (My sister found this and sent it to me before Christmas and I forgot about it, but such is old age and memory.)

Links? You want links? Huh? Well, here's one and here's another. And on reading these links, I don't see anything about the guy thinking the opossum was a weiner dog. I'm inclined to think this is a joke by one of the writers on the Richmond Times Dispatch that references the shooting of a miniature dachshund by a Danville cop last summer.

I had a new post planned

2010-03-16T21:11:00.000-04:00

This new post I had planned would've been great. Funny even. Painfully so. But I couldn't get it together enough to even think about writing it. So, it didn't get written. And I should probably feel a lot worse about not writing it than I do, but I don't. I guess that makes me a bad person.

Hang on!

2010-03-06T19:36:00.002-05:00

Toyota Simulator. Doesn't need any more explanation.

You really have no idea. None at all.

2010-03-02T19:54:00.000-05:00

In addition to the tea, Helen also sent some other stuff. Snack food type stuff. Kinda. I think. I was going to write about the little Japanese cookies, but since I actually thought they tasted good and weren't particularly weird, I'm having trouble thinking of anything to say about them. See, this is why I could never be a critic of any kind because I'm apparently only inspired by awfulness or strangeness.

Awfulness. Strangeness. Yes. Which brings me to the topic of today's post and third thing in Helen's package: fruit flavored beef jerky. I'll let that settle into your brain a bit. Just ponder it a little; I'll wait. It's beef jerky. Beef jerky that tastes like fruit. Hell, maybe I should just show a picture of the package.

Yes, I know it looks like a cow patty, but trust me, it's meat. Meat that tastes like fruit.

Judging by the Chinese on the package, it's aimed at Chinese folks, but it's made in the US. There's a Dept. of Agriculture logo on it and everything. But despite all of this seemingly normal information I still can't force my brain to process the concept of meat that's supposed to taste like fruit. If I think about it too long I begin to ponder other possible products: fruit that tastes like meat, fruit that tastes like other fruit, meat flavored soft drinks, meat scented shampoo, flavored clothing, etc.

There's a peculiar statement on the back of the package that no matter how many times I've read it, still makes no sense: "The meat contained herein is for personal use only and not for sale it is derived from animals that received ante-and post-mortem inspection and were found sound and healthy and has been inspected and passed as provided by law and regulations of USDA." Yes, that's one sentence. OK, most of it makes sense, despite the clunky syntax. But what most worries me is the part that reads, "The meat contained herein is for personal use only and not for sale". It's not for sale? But Helen bought it at a store. And if it's not for sale then tahtih aiht [oakfw[ oeih ifjw ci[owhc[oihvlkjvn; ;lk

Sorry, I my brain can only take so much.

"But when is he going to get to how it tastes?!!!" I'm getting to it. I'm getting to it. Actually, I've already gotten to it. I tasted the stuff about an hour ago and I've been avoiding the memory of it ever since.

I really thought it would taste like fruit. I really did. I guess there was a fruitiness to it. Maybe. What I can dimly recall is an overpowering sweetness and acidity. But in the background fighting to get in the foreground was the unmistakable taste of roast beef. After I put it in my mouth and began chewing I immediately went to the bathroom because I was pretty sure I was going to have to spit it out. And I couldn't just spit it in the floor, could I? Maybe at your house I could, but I live here. But I didn't spit it out; somehow I managed to swallow it.

For the sake of science, I have to taste it again.

Oh, god, the smell. It's like meat, but with something else. [I should write advertising copy for a living.]

The taste? Chemicals, horrible sweetness, and meat! Gak!

People mail me things sometimes

2010-02-28T09:16:00.000-05:00

A couple of weeks ago in a comment, Helen brought up something called "grass jelly tea" and offered to send me some because it was so horrible. I had never heard of grass jelly tea, so I looked it up and found some information about a strange gelatinous substance made from a type of plant. It looked positively vile (imagine black licorice Jell-O, except worse), so I couldn't wait for Helen's package to arrive. I imagined a jiggling glop that would slide repulsively down my throat leaving a vomit-like aftertaste. (She said it tasted like vomit.) But, today her package arrived and it contained (among other things) a simple box of tea that looked not that different from what I would find in a dollar store, save for the Chinese on the box. Hmmm... Clearly not gelatinous.

The lable on the box reads "Chrysanthemum & Puerh Tea" and doesn't say anything about "grass jelly". I looked at the other things in the box (more about them in time), but there wasn't anything gelatinous. The first sentence of Helen's included letter read, "Here is some delicious Chrysanthemum tea, also known as grass jelly tea." Ah-ha! So the regular looking tea is the grass-jelly tea, but what the hell was that gelatinous crap I saw online?

The teabag smelled a little different than typical tea, but that's nothing unusual. I was intrigued by the fact that this was supposedly Pu'erh tea. I've got some Pu'erh tea I got straight from China off Ebay which are little hard pucks of weirdness that brew up to smell vaguely like manure, but taste not quite like manure. Actually, it's not that bad tasting, but I'm not crazy about it. Is this stuff Helen sent me going to be the same, I wondered, except not pressed into a puck? Wouldn't it be funny if I actually liked it? [Pictured below is the Pu'erh I got off Ebay.]

I brewed up a cup and what I ended up with was something that smelled objectionable (but not like manure) and tasted strange and vaguely unpleasant in ways that I can't even describe other that to say it's peppery. Of course peppery isn't bad, I like pepper, but this stuff is nasty in mysterious ways that I'm not able to articulate. I will add that it doesn't taste like vomit. The idea of trying another cup makes want to vomit though, but I'm going to have to try another cup. The first one was sweetened, but the second cup won't be. I can't imagine it will make a difference.

OK, I've made a second cup and it still stinks. How can describe the smell? Dirty wet dog? No. Anyway, it's a musty, vile reek that I find difficult to deal with since I'm supposed to be drinking this substance. The taste? Oddly, it's far more palitable unsweetened. I didn't say it was good, mind you, but it's not quite as repugnant. It's sort of bland, actually. And down the drain it went.

I'm going to save the other two things Helen sent for posts in the next few days because I don't want to blow it all at once.

Funny but harmful

2010-02-22T19:57:00.002-05:00

The image below is a screen capture from Ebay.

It's about time someone catered to the market that demands jokes be both funny and harmful.

And I guess the beating you'll get after tricking someone into drinking this crap will also be funny but harmful.

Finally, my long wait is over

2010-02-18T21:19:00.000-05:00

Handerpants are underpants for your hands. Yes. Underpants. For your hands.

Juvenile, yes, but amusing

2010-02-14T08:15:00.000-05:00

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I've been drinking tea quite a bit lately. I've also been checking out various online sellers of fancy tea. Yesterday I followed an add link to some tea outfit in Taiwan and I began to look around. I know I'm not twelve years old, but the picture below amused me.

Ding Dong Fields. Yes. It's lucky the people who work there speak Chinese or they would be giggling and snickering like schoolgirls all day.

Jiz!!!

2010-02-08T17:48:00.003-05:00

Back in the mid-80's my sister and I started watching a stupid cartoon called Jem about an all girl rock group called Jem and the Holograms. We were supposedly watching to make fun of it, but I think we were also a little caught up in the plot, such as it was. (This is the kind of thing people did in olden times before they had the internet.) In 1986 my sister went off to college. My first Sunday morning alone, I changed the channel to Jem like we always did. I sat there watching it for maybe five whole minutes before I asked myself, "Why am I watching this crap?" Needless to say, I didn't watch Jem ever again.

Anyway, a few days ago (via somebody's damn Twitter account) I was introduced to Jiz, a crudely redubbed version of Jem. Be warned that the audio is totally not safe for work.

The sequel isn't as funny as the original, but it's worth watching.

Why am I Always the Last to Know?

2010-02-05T17:54:00.004-05:00

This is an old blog. A very old blog. An ancient blog. A blog so old that it was originally done on a manual typewriter connected to a long string and a can. Blogs I used to read have come and gone, mostly gone. And I don't even bother to read that many blogs these days. So it was easy for me to miss a post the recently reactivated Sherri put up about the commenting system we ancient bloggers use because our blogs are so old that Blogger didn't even have a built-in commenting system way back in the olden days when dinosaurs roamed the earth.

What am I talking about? Haloscan, the commenting system I've used for over seven years is ceasing to exist on February 13th. Which means all the comments this blog has accumulated for over seven years will be gone. I can back them up, in fact, I've already done so, but they won't be accessible any longer unless I subscribe to this new service called Echo or some shit. So I can either pay money for this new unproven thing or just dump it and go with Blogger's built-in system. I think I'm just going to cut my losses and stick with Blogger.

Something Pointless About Tea

2010-02-05T17:10:00.004-05:00

I've been drinking tea quite a bit lately. I tend to prefer Earl Grey varieties (Stash is my favorite), but I've been drinking other types as well.

One of the most easily purchased tea brands in my area is Bigelow. Their most popular variety is something called "Constant Comment". I got three bags of this in a Bigelow variety pack I bought yesterday. I tried this tea for the first time this morning; I even looked forward to it. But, after a few sips I imagined the "Constant Comment" this tea elicited just had to be, "This is awful!" Imagine, if you will, a tea that combines mediocre black tea with orange rind and several sticks of Dentyne. And when you burp you can still taste it an hour or more later. But yet it's Bigelow's most popular kind of tea.

Why am I telling you all of this? Mainly because I look forward to my cup of tea at the nine o'clock break at work and I ruined it with this vile substance. Well, it wasn't completely ruined since I did get to go home not long after because it was snowing and sleeting so hard.

And I'm annoyed because for the second weekend in a row I won't be able to go buy any good tea because it's snowing. I wish they sold better teas in stores near my home, but they don't. I love Stash Earl Grey, but I'm not getting killed driving all the way across town in a vortex of frozen doom just to get it.

I don't like Bigelow's Earl Grey either. So there.

Boring things about a dead guy

2010-01-29T22:28:00.003-05:00

J.D. Salinger died a day or two ago. If this was 20 years ago I'd be bummed out about his death, but these days I don't really care.

The only reason for this post to show off this ancient copy of Catcher in the Rye I got a thrift store several years ago. (I think I paid 25¢.) It's unusual in that it actually has an illustration of Holden Caufield on the cover. Or at least it's unusual to me. The only other copies I've ever seen are the stupid burgundy one everyone and their grandma has.

And here's the back.

This post was so great in my head, but it just died on the screen. Maybe I should go back to not posting since I do that so well.

I'm on the internets

2010-01-28T17:59:00.003-05:00

I guess it's time for a new blog post. Sadly, I have nothing at all to write about. What have I been doing lately? Working at my crummy job mostly, but when I'm at home I've been camped out in the living room under a blanket. My office is cold enough to store meat, so I don't spend much time in there anymore. I'm waiting for the spring thaw. The laptop keeps my junk from freezing and breaking off.

Also, here's a video of a really fat cat. Listen the nice THUD it makes when it falls over.

New Year, New Bleh

2010-01-04T20:43:00.004-05:00

Finally all the holiday crap is over and things can get back to normal. The problem is normal sucks. But at least Grady is gone.

The filthy beast was jettisoned from my life a week ago, but I still bear the physical and mental scars. Horrible! Next Christmas I hope he's discovered the wonderful world of laziness, a skill I thought cats were born with. I dread the thought of another holiday of that furry terror going behind the TV, charging the doors at full speed, climbing the walls, attacking people, trying to eat my cookies, etc.

Note: this is an eight month old cat, but he's already ten pounds and huge. Next year he'll be twice that. I dread Christmas.

Oh, god, Grady's here

2009-12-24T07:34:00.002-05:00

That's Grady, the awful, awful new cat my sister got over the summer. He's only eight months old and he's already bigger than the adult cat he replaced. By next Christmas this thing's gonna weigh 20 pounds or more.

Next Year's Christmas Card Photo

2009-12-22T11:17:00.005-05:00

I went out this morning with my ancient DSLR to take a few festive shots. The example below is pretty representative of what I ended up with.

Yep, nothing says Christmas like a desolate rail yard.

Christmas in Crackville

2009-12-21T19:17:00.005-05:00

I've been accused of making up the snow that fell on Crackville a few days ago. People just can't take someone's word anymore, nope, they gotta have photographic proof (as if that proved anything). So, without further ado, I present you a spooky nightime shot out the backdoor that I took not fifteen minutes ago.

As you can see, the snow isn't that deep anymore because the last two days have been sunny and in the low forties.

Whiteout in Crackville

2009-12-19T12:36:00.002-05:00

Yesterday Crackville got covered in a blanket of snow. But, sadly, this isn't the kind of snow that you can make sweet, delicious crack out of, so the denizens of Crackville are just stuck with a bunch of useless fluffy frozen water covering everything. We don't dream of a white Christmas here in Crackville, we just dream of crack. Actually, we don't dream so much as hallucinate what with all of the crack we've been smoking.

I'd go take a picture of the snow, but that would require me to get out from under a layer of blankets. So you see my dilemma. Besides, I sold my camera to buy crack.

Now how did this happen?

2009-12-13T08:08:00.004-05:00

In the past I've written about my love of weird foreign toothpaste that I find in dollar stores. (I'm too lazy to look up the posts to link here, but trust me, I've written about it before.) Every tube's an adventure. Well, kinda. Anyway, a few days ago I finished up my tube of Mexican Colgate and went to get another tube of whatever I had in that drawer where I keep random junk like weird foreign toothpaste that I find in dollar stores. Guess what? There wasn't any toothpaste at all in that drawer. I even dug around in there to make sure that I wasn't missing anything. Nope. No toothpaste. (On the other hand, there were various over the counter medications, a roll of elastic bandage, old letters from my sister, a View Master, an unmarked VHS tape filled with porn, a couple of watch boxes, etc.) So, basically I had no toothpaste at all except a couple of sample tubes I got at the dentist. I hate sample tubes. I ended up picking up some tube at Walmart yesterday. Yeah, regular toothpaste. I'm as disappointed in me as you are.

Geese vs. Cheetos

2009-11-25T11:10:00.002-05:00

Saturday at Sam's Club I bought a big bag of Cheetos and ate them until I felt like I wanted to barf. What to do with the rest? I certainly wasn't going to eat them. In fact, I don't think I'll be eating Cheetos ever again. Anyway, this morning I decided to take them down to the river and fed them to the geese. Here's the video:

Another tiresome anniversary

2009-11-11T17:49:00.003-05:00

Earlier today I remembered this blog has an anniversary this month. I started it November 10, 2002, which, in blog terms, was like 50 years ago. So, the old blog is seven years old. How, you may ask, does one manage to keep a blog for seven years? Easy, just write a post every month or two so that people can tell it hasn't been completely abandoned. Also, it helps not to have a life.

And for absolutely no reason, I present to you, my loyal blog-readers, How is babby formed.

Ten things on a Thursday

2009-11-03T18:43:00.002-05:00

Apparently, I've been chosen for some kinda meme thing. I never liked these meme thingies, too much like work. Anyway, I'm required, if I understand the premise, to list ten things I do on a Thursday, despite the fact that it's not even close to Thursday.

1. Good gravy. Everything I do on Thursday is pretty much what I do on the other days of the week, especially the weekdays. I lead a dull and depressing life that doesn't hold up to analysis.

That was one wasn't it? No? Damn.

1. Wallow in abject misery.

Now I know that's one.

2. Wish it were Friday. Specifically I wish that it's Friday after 3:30PM, which means I can wash the machine shop filth off of me and begin vegetating in front of the computer in a much more intensive way than I had been doing over the previous workdays.

Why can't it be Friday right now instead of crappy, useless Tuesday. Nothing good ever happens on Tuesday.

I'm losing track of the meme. Thursday. Things I do on Thursday.

O.K.

4. Shit. I haven't written a three yet.

3. Most people would list something about watching some TV show that comes on Thursdays, but I don't even turn the damn TV on on Thursday. If my life depended on it I don't think I could tell you anything that came on Thursday with the exception of Top Gear, which I don't watch on Thursdays; I watch it on Mondays.

I still haven't written a three yet.

3. Put on socks.

4. Cut myself at work. I cut myself pretty much every day at work, so this counts.

5. Check behind the bathroom door for snakes. I didn't write about this on my blog, but I found a small snake behind my bathroom door in September and then I found a second one in the same place exactly a month later. They were non-poisonous and about as deadly as earthworms, but now I'm traumatized for life.

God, I have five more to go. This is never going to end.

6. Digest the food I've consumed.

Lame, I know, but I'm desperate man.

7. Go through a few celebrity blogs in hopes that some actress or singer I think is hot wore a see-through dress. Sad, I know, but it keeps me off the streets.

8. I take a shower. Not that I only shower on Thursdays, no that would be nasty. I shower most days because my job's filthy.

God, this is so boring. It would've been far more interesting if I really did only shower once a week. My labored justification for such a nasty habit would've at least been amusing. Well, maybe.

9. Practice my old professional ballet dancer routines.

No, that's a bald-faced lie.

9. Roll over, look at the clock, and hope that it's at least an hour or more before I have to get up and face another day of tedium.

10. Get out of bed and groan at the thought of another boring, filthy day at work.

There, I did it. That's ten. Deal with it.

I think I'm supposed to pick ten other folk and foist this abomination upon them, but I don't even read regular folks' blogs that much anymore. I think this one has maybe three or four regular readers and I don't even read their blogs most of the time because I'm too busy doing something boring. So, I'll make you a deal. If you want to write a blog entry, but can't think of anything to write about, then do this ten things on a Thursday thing. Or don't do it. I don't really care.

"He's on ice skates! We don't have a chance!"

2009-10-26T17:34:00.003-04:00

Believe it or not, I actually have things to post about, but I'm having trouble trying to whip myself into writing mode. These days I'm in full on moping mode. That's moping and not mopping. I've never been in mopping mode, but if I was, rest assured, I'd write about it.

Anyway, Friday there was an article on CNN's webpage that caught my eye. The opening sentence was perhaps one of the most bizarre, horrifying, but yet hysterically funny things I've read in a while:

A bear on ice skates attacked two people during rehearsals at a circus in Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan, killing one of them, Kyrgyz officials said Friday.

Yeah! A bear on ice skates was attacking people. I don't want to make light of someone's tragic death, but if I ever get killed by an ice skating bear, I hope headstone reads, "Killed by a fucking bear on ice skates. Top that!"

It's a post about nothing

2009-10-12T19:52:00.004-04:00

I've done nothing at all since I last wrote a post; I don't really have anything to write about. Seriously. Nothing. But, as I've been summoned from my pit of squalor to once again save the world, I'll see what I can do.

What have I done recently? (Besides wanking.) I watched some movies, something I haven't done in a long time. OK, I'll write a few short reviews of the movies I've seen over the past week. (The emphasis is on short.) Roger Ebert has nothing to worry about.

The 40 Year Old Virgin: I think I'm the last person on earth who hadn't seen this. I liked it. It wasn't ass-slappingly hysterical like most people seem to think, but it's a decent movie. You won't be seeing this review quoted on the DVD box any time soon.

I Am Legend: I don't think I've watched a Will Smith movie before. He makes big block-buster shoot'em up stuff and I usually avoid those kinds of movies because I'm a Liberal Elitist Snob. Anyway, this movie is a remake of Last Man on Earth, a swell mid 60's Vincent Price flick that you can watch free online since it's in the public domain. Did I like the modern remake? Yes. I didn't love it, but I liked it well enough I suppose. My only real complaint besides the CGI stuff (which I always hate because it looks fake) was that Will Smith's character was too nice. I don't want to spoil it for those planning on comparing the Will Smith version to the Vincent Price version, so I won't explain what the hell I mean other than to say that Vincent Price wasn't very nice all.

Mean Girls: There was a sale at Wal-Mart on DVDs and I bought this and the next two movies down the page. I liked it, but I didn't love it. I was really hoping it would be funnier, but it was a little light-weight, almost like an edgy Disney Channel movie. Also, it was depressing seeing Lindsey Lohan not looking like a emaciated coke zombie. They should probably show her this movie at the intervention.

Prom Night: Dreck. I didn't really like 80's slasher movies in the 80's, so I don't know why I thought I would like this. It was a lifeless ripoff of the much, much better Halloween. On the upside, it does have a young Jamie Lee Curtis, but on the downside, she keeps all her clothes on.

The Descent: I'd never heard of this one, but for some reason it looked interesting. I'm glad I got it because it may have been the best of the lot. I don't typically like modern horror and science fiction movies. I'd rather see a plastic spaceship hanging by a string than see a meticulously detailed CGI spaceship. But this movie doesn't have spaceships in it, so I don't know what the hell I'm going on about. It's about a group of macho women who go exploring some deep cave and find it inhabited by these fucking nasty mutant naked humanoids who eat them. Also, it's British. You know the British always make good stuff.

Black Sabbath: No, not the band. This is the movie the band probably got their name from. It's currently being shown on Hulu, so have a look. It's not great, but if you like bosomy Italian women in cat's eye makeup, you'll probably like it. Also, it's got Boris Karloff. You know Boris Karloff always makes good stuff.

Since I mentioned Black Sabbath, here's a clip of them circa 1970 playing "War Pigs":

And, since I mentioned cat's eye makeup, here's a clip showing how to apply cat's eye makeup:

Awesome!

2009-09-21T18:15:00.003-04:00

The above image may in fact be the greatest single panel ever to appear in a comic strip.

Imagine the thrill those young boys must have felt as they discovered their mutual desire to dress up in women's underwear.

[Killjoys can read the rest of the comic here.]

Wherein An Old Man Complains About Things He Doesn't Understand

2009-08-26T19:45:00.002-04:00

There's this rather mild-mannered woman at work. She's middle-aged, quiet, hard-working, and in no way does she draw attention to herself. The only visible evidence that she might have a few quirks is the fact that she smokes. Her car is even dull and ordinary, or rather it was until she suddenly started driving a pickup truck. This truck can't possibly be hers, it must be her husband's, or maybe her son's, but not hers. Why? Because hanging underneath it in that dead zone between the rear axle and the bumper is a set of BumperNuts.

When I first saw these twin abominations pendulously hanging under the truck I wondered what ham-fisted douchebag could possibly be driving this ridiculous contraption? Was it one of my co-workers? Was it a temp? Clearly this was a vehicle driven by either someone very young or someone having one hell of a midlife crisis. But who? And then one morning I saw the mild-mannered woman drive by me in the truck sporting a nutsack.

Yes, a nutsack. Why? And why did the company that makes these things go in to so much realistic detail? It's got folds and wrinkles, for crying out loud. I'm surprised they didn't go the extra mile and put scraggly hair on it. If you go and look at the selection at the website I linked to above, you'll see it comes in a variety of colors: blue, black, red, chrome, and even "flesh", which is a gross beige putty sort of color and it's what the mild-mannered woman brandishes on her vehicle. If she'd simply had chrome ones it wouldn't be so bad, but that beige color is for some mysterious reason about ten times more repulsive than all of the other colors combined.

I'm really at a loss to explain the appeal of things like BumperNuts. What does it mean to put testicles on your vehicle? Does it say, "My vehicle has balls!" Or, "I have balls!" Or maybe, "Look, I just cut someone's balls off and now I'm hanging them on my truck like a trophy!"

A couple of days ago I saw a car with a pair of chrome ones that were attached in such a way that they would swing back and forth. I gave them a few extra points for that, but I deducted even more points for having those huge wheels and stupid big chrome rims. Damn kids, get off my lawn with your big rims and chrome nutsacks!

Since I don't understand the appeal of the nuts, I'm going to suggest some alternatives. Why not a penis? It could be mounted like a hood ornament. And since we live in very high tech times, why not make it so that it can go from small and wiggly to large and stiff at the press of a button? That would beat the hell out of some lousy aluminum nutsack any day. Or why not a vagina? On first glance it would simply look like a logo on your car, but on closer inspection--EEK! Since I'm all for movement, why not some large jiggling breasts to mount on your rear bumper? Or just put nipples on various spots on your car or truck. I know my old Buick would spiffed up more than a little with a sporty row of erect nipples.

Yes, one day our cars will have penises.

Of Great Importance!

2009-08-05T15:52:00.002-04:00

Quickly, everyone go here to await further orders from the Chosen One. And make sure your speakers are on.

One day I'll be able to explain why I posted this

2009-07-29T20:49:00.001-04:00

My life won't be complete without one of these

2009-07-25T12:24:00.003-04:00

Do a search at YouTube for lokuloku for more videos of these things.

What's French for "Creepy cookie"?

2009-07-20T16:42:00.011-04:00

Lately I've been going to a local discount department store to poke through the junk, but I think I mainly go to buy French cookies called Le Petit Écolier (The Little Schoolboy). It's a sort of tea biscuit with a chocolate slab on it that contains pralined hazelnuts. They're delicious and cheap, but also a bit creepy if you insist on studying the embossed image instead of just cramming them into your mouth like a normal person.

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The kid sort reminds me of Han Solo in carbonite, despite the fact that I'm not a Star Wars nerd (I'm an entirely different species of nerd).

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Here's a close up so you can see his eyes, which are his worst feature.

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His eyes in natural light are even worse.

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His eyes in negative are a bit different, sort of like how the Shroud of Turin is different in negative.

And, for my own amusement, here's the little bastard in duotone. Sweet dreams.

Note: I have no idea why that alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID crap is under all but one photo. I posted today's photos like I've posted all the other ones and I'm not doing it over. I mean really, I have to draw the line somewhere. I do have a life. Kinda.

Food Feh

2009-06-30T22:22:00.004-04:00

I wasn't planning on posting anything because my brain's vacant what with my leprosy and all, but while perusing someone else's blog, I saw something that's always kind of annoyed me. Why do people take pictures of their restaurant food and post it on their blog? A picture of food is boring.

I used to read this blog a few years ago that was fairly entertaining, but the woman who wrote it had this bad habit of posting pictures of what she'd had in some damn restaurant in New York. I don't care about your damn paneer tikka masala or whatever. I'm going to start taking pictures of my ramen and grilled cheese sandwiches.

Maybe I should've kept this to myself. This post is like something I would've done back in 2003.

From when I used to be funny

2009-06-12T21:48:00.001-04:00

While digging through some crap, I found some work I did several years ago in a desktop publishing class.

Trees and Things

2009-06-06T11:26:00.004-04:00

Because some of you (who shall remain nameless) insist on turning my creepy tree into a filthy tree, filthy trees have been on my mind. Now, I don't want filthy trees on my mind, but on my mind they are. The situation is out my hands really. Anyway, while perusing some photos I've taken in the past few months, I came across a photo of what I can only call a tree anus. (Also, it's kind of a big photo. Sorry dialup folks. Heh-heh.)

Hot stuff, huh?

And, for no other reason than my love of the purely random, here's a video of the late, great Mr. Sammy Davis, Jr. singing the theme song to Chico and the Man:

At the Junction

2009-06-01T21:07:00.003-04:00

For some bizarre reason my malfunctioning brain has recently been playing the theme song to the 60's sitcom Petticoat Junction while I'm at work. I haven't watched this program in thirty years or more.

While this inane song kept playing in my head, what bothered me was the title of the program itself. Petticoat Junction? What does that even mean? Is it some kind of sexual double-entendre? The theme song mentions that there's "Lotsa curves, you bet. Even more when you get/To the junction, Petticoat Junction". These lines are sung right as you see the women swimming in the water tower.

Also, Petticoat Junction was located in Hooterville.

Creepy tree is creepy

2009-05-27T19:45:00.001-04:00

Creepy tree is creepy
Originally uploaded by Cropshy

For lack of anything else, here's a random photo of a creepy-ass tree in the backyard.

Hiatus of the Gods

2009-05-26T19:39:00.002-04:00

I've been poked and prodded by some of you for a new post. I don't really know what you want, blogging doesn't hold that much interest in me these days. I'm not even reading blogs that much anymore, which is why comments by me aren't popping up in places they traditionally have popped up.

So what have I been doing? Writing, reading, working my horrible job, and, when I have some extra time, wallowing in misery. I've started writing a journal again, except this time instead of keeping it in a notebook I've been doing it on my computer. Since I've started doing it back in mid-March I've accumulated just over 40,000 words. It's nice to be able to write without having to worry if anyone will actually like it.

Anything else to report? Ah, yes, now I remember... Hobby Lobby sells 11/16 inch wide rare earth magnets! Also, Target (which otherwise is a vortex of suffering) sells sarsaparilla soda under the brand name Archer Farms. Good stuff.

No, I'm not back from hiatus

2009-04-19T16:54:00.004-04:00

I was poking through some old files on my external hard drive and found the (for lack of a better word) poem below. I think I wrote it, or maybe not. Maybe it was generated by some online thing that I entered some text into. I don't know. But however it was written, I thought I would share its spectacular awfulness with the world.

my toenails ache
with the thoughts of a thousand
salads I see
meat upon meat
I stand above your grandma
licking the air with glee
the cinderblocks explode
and we are at play
many tired orphans wound us
as the parade melts away

my balls hurt, grandma
take my nub
I walk in the bean patch
stuffing the chub

OK, back to being on hiatus. And what am I doing on hiatus? I'm stuffing the chub mostly.

Blogging is stupid and boring

2009-03-21T08:48:00.002-04:00

Blogging has become quite dull for me. These days I'm more interested in reading dead tree books and writing stuff that no one will see.

I'm taking a break.

Jewelry for Weirdos

2009-03-15T12:15:00.003-04:00

My sister's having a sort of sale at her Etsy store, so go buy some of her jewelry so she'll stop pissing and moaning to me about how everyone loves her work but is too damn cheap to actually buy the creepy-ass stuff.

She needs money to get her cat a sex change operation.

This is a detail from a menu I had to do for a desktop publishing class several years ago. I found it recently in a stack of paper I was going to reuse in my printer. The only thing about this class I really liked was that sometimes I could write strange stuff in the assignments. Although one time the teacher took points off because I did that. Killjoy.

That's Not Quite Relaxing

2009-03-07T08:46:00.004-05:00

Last night I dreamed about a place where you could interact with birds of prey by lying down on a flat rock with food on your face and the birds would swoop down and snatch it off with their talons. I remember one person with fried eggs over her eyes and other food over her nose and mouth. I couldn't imagine just lying there while a big bird with sharp claws and beak would take food right off your eyes.

Spiderman?

2009-03-02T21:01:00.004-05:00

Yesterday morning while perusing the Aldi sale paper, I was startled to see a photo of a black kid wearing what at first looked like a KKK Imperial Wizard robe.

Then I got a closer look and saw it was some bizarre garment called a "Hooded Character Towel". Don't the companies that make this kind of stuff ever think about how about it looks? You'd think that someone in the company would have taken one look at the design and said, "Heh. Looks like a Klan robe."

It'll Grow Back, Don't Worry

2009-02-26T19:45:00.005-05:00

It's been a week since I ripped open my right ring finger and it's healing nicely. I posted a picture on my mostly unused Flickr page. I decided to link to it instead of posting it here since the gross photo I posted last week elicited an "Ew, gross!" from Cindy and derision from my sister.

It didn't fester at all; I'm kinda disappointed.

Also, it's nice to not have a bandage the size of a corndog.

Update: I was just informed by Cindy in the comments that you have to log in to see my gross knuckle photo on Flickr. Crap. OK, here's a direct link where you shouldn't have to log in.

End of the Toothpaste Rainbow?

2009-02-24T17:31:00.004-05:00

A while back, I posted something about Pepsodent. Something about whether or not the American stuff has formaldehyde in it like the Indonesian version. Or something. I dunno. Anyway, I finally got a response to my query from the company. Well, I got the response last Thursday, but that was the day I cut the ever-loving monkey nuts out of my right ring finger. So I'm using that as an excuse for my tardiness.

Dear Mr. M:

Thank you for visiting our web site. We appreciate your interest in our company and our Pepsodent® Toothpaste products.

We are proud to say all Church & Dwight toothpaste products are made in the United States and we do not use any ingredients produced in Indonesia. Thorough safety assessments are made of all ingredients and finished formulations before our products are introduced into the marketplace.

None of our dental care products including Pepsodent contain formaldehyde.

Legitimate products must indicate “Distributed by: Church & Dwight Co., Inc., Princeton, NJ”. If the product in your possession does not have this notation, we suggest that you return it to the store where you purchased it.

At Church & Dwight Co., Inc., we strive to manufacture products of high quality and performance that meet genuine consumer needs. It is gratifying to learn from you that our efforts are recognized and appreciated.

We hope you will visit our web site again at: WWW.CHURCHDWIGHT.COM for information about our company, products, history, and financial information.

Thomas B. McCann
Consumer Relations Specialist

Well, there you have it. American Pepsodent doesn't have formaldehyde in it. Also, that Indonesian stuff probably shouldn't even be sold here. But is that going to stop me from using the Indonesian stuff? Nope. I still have half a tube left.

One Handed

2009-02-20T19:18:00.002-05:00

Not being able to use my right hand that much sucks. I'll be glad when this finger heals up.

Ever try to take a shower with one hand? I think I'm half-clean. Anyone want to come over and give me a good scrub?

Today's Inconvenient Accident Can Suck It (WARNING: Gross Photo Below)

2009-02-19T18:02:00.006-05:00

That's my right ring finger as of midday. At work I sliced the knuckle down to the bone and now I can't really do anything easily (especially type). I have three stitches, and since the cut's on the knuckle, I guess they didn't want the finger moving.

When I went to punch out at work, my giant finger wouldn't even fit in the hand scanner.

I can't even scrub the machine shop filth off my hand.

At least I got a nice big bottle of Darvocet for my troubles.

Update 2/20/09: Here's a photo of the stitches. Gross, huh? The bandage fell off sometime last night, and when I woke up, naturally I decided to take a picture of it.

Microcosm?

2009-02-15T11:25:00.003-05:00

A few weeks ago at Wal-Mart I found myself buying a two-pound carton of goldfish crackers. Why? I don't know. I blame the madness that seems to possess most everyone who dares enter a Wal-Mart.

So, I ate two pounds of goldfish crackers. But something was bothering me. (Besides having a colon filled to the brim with partially digested goldfish crackers.)

The goldfish on the package is apparently alive and quite happy. But yet his sole purpose in life is to be eaten. Also, he's riding a bicycle, but yet has no feet to pedal it, nor does he have any arms with which to steer it. At least he has on a helmet because with no way to control the bike, it's almost certain that the hapless goldfish cracker will be having a serious accident. The bicycle seems to be traveling at a high rate of speed, and the tires are coated with a thick layer of cheese that will make any effort at control all the more difficult.

The truly sad part in all of this is that the goldfish cracker seems completely unaware of his fate.

Waiting

2009-02-12T20:31:00.000-05:00

Still no word from the toothpaste people about the formaldehyde question.

Pepsodud?

2009-02-10T19:30:00.004-05:00

I know all of your are on pins and needles about the toothpaste stuff from a couple of days ago.

Recap for the impatient: Does American-made Pepsodent have formaldehyde in it like Indonesian Pepsodent? Why aren't the ingredients listed on the tube? Inquiring minds want to know. Or at least a guy in Virginia with absolutely no life wants to know. And what's up with this guy anyway? Has he suffered some kind of severe head injury?

OK, here's the big letdown. I really should've noticed it Saturday, but I didn't. The damn box the tube of Pepsodent came in has the ingredients listed on it. No formaldehyde. I plead stupidity, your Honor.

So all of your suggestions that I call the number on the tube or go to their website and see if they have a question form are all for naught. But I went to the Church & Dwight oral care page anyway and ended up asking them about the formaldehyde, despite the fact that it's not listed in the ingredients and despite the fact that Unilever makes Indonesian Pepsodent and Church & Dwight (a totally different company) makes Pepsodent here in the US. I'm hopeful the answer will be interesting enough for a blog post. Oh, who am I kidding, you all know damn good and well that despite how mind-numbingly dull the answer will be I'll still find a way to get a blog post out of it.

Incidentally, the Wikipedia article on Pepsodent is pretty good.

Also, cocks.

More Adventures in Toothpaste

2009-02-08T18:46:00.003-05:00

Last month I wrote about my experiences with dollar store Indonesian Pepsodent that ended up having formaldehyde in it. (Incidentally, I'm still brushing my teeth with the stuff daily despite the fact that it has formaldehyde in it.) I'd planned on buying an American tube of Pepsodent for comparison, but kept forgetting. Well, yesterday at Dollar Tree I finally remembered.

I expected to find an ingredients list that didn't contain formaldehyde. But what I found instead was no list at all, which is more disturbing than just a regular ingredients list. Damn, American Pepsodent may just have formaldehyde in it. And for all I know it could have ground glass, foot fungus, and sulfuric acid in it as well.

On the upside, it's wintergreen flavor, which, depending on your experience, either reminds you of root beer or Pepto Bismal. I love wintergreen.

Wouldn't there be a short circuit?

2009-02-07T08:44:00.002-05:00

I'm not trying to compete with the mighty Comics Curmudgeon, but this Frank & Ernest strip from yesterday caught my eye.

Robots don't go to the toilet.

Also, after 25 years or more of being aware of Frank & Ernest, I just realized the name of the strip is a pun.

Plugging Along

2009-02-05T20:19:00.003-05:00

Does it mean I'm a Plugger if I kind of want to try the above "recipe"? Well, I might put something else in other than Spam. Leftover baked chicken or something. Well, I might try Spam.

I see my life stretched out before me and I don't like the looks of it.

Four of Them?

2009-01-31T21:32:00.004-05:00

Yesterday I dreamed that some women had four breasts. I don't mean that on rare occasions some women had extra mammary glands; I mean that while most women have two breasts, a smaller (but still significant) amount of women had four.

At one point in the dream I wondered what kind bras they wore. Did they wear one strapped one and then a strapless one below? Or maybe they wore some kind of four-cupped garment. Also, I tried to recall seeing four-boobed women in girlie magazines, but couldn't. Then I woke up. Thankfully.

For the record, I think two are enough.

Ain't Pretty No More

2009-01-30T14:12:00.004-05:00

Yesterday I mentioned that I was worried about my favorite dollar store after a fire burned up some of the stores near it. Today I went over and had a look. The dollar store lives!

It was separated from the fire by one large store and was unharmed. They were even open for business and I bought some crap. Too bad I can't say the same for the utterly destroyed Beauty Land and the check cashing place.

With all those hair care products and stuff, Beauty Land must've went up like an ammo dump.

Update 1/31/09: I know this is of interest to absolutely no one, but here's a new article and a pretty cool slideshow.

Oh, crap!

2009-01-29T18:38:00.003-05:00

The dollar store where I buy my dodgy foreign toothpaste may have been damaged by a fire.

It's a couple of stores down from the two mentioned in the article I linked to above. (There's also a video on the site which I tried to embed, but it didn't work because life sucks a huge donkey dick.) I'll have to stop by tomorrow and have a look. And I'll have to remember to bring my camera.

Chanting Thingy

2009-01-26T19:55:00.002-05:00

I got this in the mail today from Hong Kong. It cost all of four bucks with shipping.

In a world gone mad, random crap is my only source of comfort

2009-01-20T18:27:00.006-05:00

The photo below shows my latest Ebay purchase. Seriously. After I got home from work today there was a package waiting for me containing a used tube of Chapstick, two Vick's DayQuil capsules (with pseudoephedrine, which is a pain to find now that the Feds think everyone has a meth lab in their backyard), a .45 caliber bullet, and a spent .45 caliber shell casing.

OK, I didn't specifically buy this stuff. (It'd have been funny if I had though. Take that, logic!) No, I bought an old camera and this stuff was in the camera bag the seller tossed in free. But I have one question, what kind of photographer carries ammo in their camera bag? The Chapstick and cold medication I can understand, but bullets?

The thing that really gets to me is that I'm going to have to toss out those two DayQuil capsules. I love pseudoephedrine. That's the good stuff, dammit! It's the only thing that really makes me feel halfway decent when I have a cold and now it's such a pain the ass to get. I'd keep them, but who knows how old they are. On the other hand, I have no qualms about tossing out the used tube of Chapstick.

Adventures in Toothpaste

2009-01-19T19:51:00.005-05:00

Yes, adventures in toothpaste. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you should know by now that I have "adventures" with things like toothpaste, old magazines, toenail clippers, and other boring crap I can't think of right now. Never will you read an entry where I talk about how stoked I was to climb up a 1,000 foot rock face with no safety line, or how cool it was it jump on stage at the Radiohead concert and run around taking my clothes off before the security guys beat the snot out of me. Nope. Not going to happen. I lead an extraordinarily dull life.

Anyway, toothpaste. A week or two back I mentioned a dollar store I shop in that sells all kinds of weird crap that's probably not intended to be sold in this country. Things like toothpaste from Indonesia.

Yes, I bought the toothpaste from Indonesia. And, believe it or not, I've actually been brushing my teeth with it for a week or more. It's pretty nice-tasting toothpaste. If you look at the back of the tube, you'll see it's also Halal. I don't know why I find that interesting, but I do.

Also, much to my horror, I've just noticed that one of the ingredients of this toothpaste is formaldehyde. What the fucking fuck, Indonesia? I've been putting this in my mouth for over a week. None of the other four tubes of toothpaste in my cabinet have formaldehyde in them, not even the Mexican Colgate.

[Long pause while I frantically search the internet to see if I've been poisoning myself.]

Here's a statement from Pepsodent's maker, Unilever of Indonesia, that deals with formaldehyde. So maybe I'm safe. Or maybe I'VE BEEN HORRIBLY POISONED!!!

Blowpens, pt. II

2009-01-05T17:35:00.004-05:00

Yesterday I posted about the weird pack of Blowpens I'd bought at a dollar store. I couldn't muster up enough energy or enthusiasm to demonstrate how these things work yesterday, but now I can. Unfortunately, Blowpens kind of suck and half of them don't even work, but three of the colors did work. And so I present to you an original work of art I did using a custom stencil I made rather than using one of the boring stencils that came in the package.

This artwork is available for purchase. Interesting trades considered.

Ugh... First post of 2009

2009-01-04T17:56:00.005-05:00

Doing stuff is too much trouble. [Long uncomfortable pause.] Anyway, here's the post I was supposed to write a few days ago. Last year, actually. Meh.

One of my favorite places to shop is a strange dollar store run by Middle Eastern folks. The merchandise is compromised of a bizarre mix of foreign stuff and typical low grade dollar store crap. Once I saw some plastic bags of Tide detergent where all of the writing was in Chinese. They have Pepsodent from Indonesia. (I'm not brave enought to try it. Yet.) Occasionally I'll stumble across something so peculiar I just have to buy it.

I have no idea where this was originally supposed to be sold, but it was made in China, the text uses the Cyrillic alphabet, but there's also some English. (The Cyrillic alphabet is used in the former Soviet Union and in Mongolia. See, learning is fun!)

I like how the instructions have the words "BLOWPENS INSTRUCTIONS" in English, but all of the rest is in Russian, Bulgarian, Mongolian, or whatever the hell language this is.

I was going to make a picture using the blow pens (which are actually kind of fun), but I just couldn't work up enough enthusiasm to bother.

Finally, my collection is finished!

2008-12-29T19:12:00.003-05:00

Today, in the mail I got my copy of Nell Marr Dean's Circus Nurse and now I'm finally, after so many years, the proud owner of both novels called Circus Nurse. Right now I'm savoring the wonderful bacony flavor of victory.

Now what?

"Oh, crap! I'm gonna get it now!"

2008-12-18T19:30:00.002-05:00

I guess it's time for a post despite the fact that nothing at all is going on in my life worth posting about. It's all really quite tiresome.

The image shown below is the front cover of a religious pamphlet I picked up when I was leaving the dentist's office. (Why are religious types always leaving these pamphlets everywhere? I once bought a camera bag at Big Lots only to find a pamphlet inside telling me I was going to hell.) I love the look on the guy's face. He's thinking, "Why did I have to look at all that porn? God's gonna kick my ass!"

A Survey

2008-12-07T12:47:00.001-05:00

English lesson

2008-11-29T11:14:00.002-05:00

The fun starts around 0:49. Maybe I'd be able to speak a second language if they had taught us this way.

Gobbleh

2008-11-29T08:17:00.000-05:00

Turkey is a fairly bland and dull form of meat. There, I said it.

Six Long Years

2008-11-10T19:02:00.004-05:00

On this date six tedious years ago, I started this tiresome blog. I don't even remember why I started it, I just started it. I guess I needed a hobby that didn't involve porn. Or something. I dunno. Anyway, six years on teh interwebs is positively ancient. The average blog supposedly lasts only six months. It's rare for them to last a couple of years. Mine is six years old, so you'd think that would entitle me to something, but I don't think it does.

I'm kind of tired of this specific blog. When I started it, Google didn't even own Blogger and it didn't have all the neato wizzbang features it has now. Also, if you go back and look at a lot of my old posts (and please don't do that), you'll see lots and lots and lots of dead links. I'd have a post that went something like Hey look at this. It's stoopit! And the word this would be a link. Naturally, that link is now dead and I don't have the slightest idea what I was referring to. And since it wasn't easy (or free) to post photos on Blogger back then (and because I was on dial-up), I didn't post pictures, I'd just link to them. Some of the photos are there and some of them aren't. Much of this blog's archive is basically a bloated wasteland of dead links and typos.

I'm thinking of starting a new blog, so I can take advantage of the spiffy features Blogger offers these days. I haven't decided if I'm actually going to start a new blog yet. Or even when. It's not like I have tons of amusing things to write about.

It’s almost over!

2008-11-03T18:38:00.001-05:00

This tiresome election is almost over. Finally. Tomorrow after work I’ll go and vote. Hopefully, I won’t have to stand in line for three hours. Or longer. Also, I sincerely, desperately hope that when I wake up Wednesday morning, there will be a clear winner and the loser accepts that he lost and goes the fuck away. We don’t need a replay of the 2000 presidential election. If there’s no clear winner by Wednesday, then flip a coin. Draw straws. Wrestle. Something. Anything. I don’t care, just end this national nightmare.

Piggies

2008-10-30T19:00:00.005-04:00

Today I noticed a full page Piggly Wiggly ad in the paper. (Yesterday's paper, actually.) At the top of the page were the words, "Savings So Low It's Scary!" And scattered across the rest of the ad were several instances of the beloved Piggly Wiggly cartoon pig in various "scary" Halloween costumes. My favorite (a skeleton suit) is shown below.

But far scarier than a happy cartoon pig in a skeleton suit is a slab of meat from a butchered pig.

I like to imagine the happy cartoon pig in his little paper hat and butcher apron selling chunks of own kind to humans to eat.

No humping zoo animals here

2008-10-26T07:57:00.002-04:00

Really, I should just keep reposting that picture of the giraffe fucking the donkey just annoy everyone, but I won’t. Let’s move on from interspecies boinking, shall we?

I have nothing at all to add to any of this except that I’m using Windows Live Writer to write this post. Excellent free tool, if I must say. Anyway, when I was typing the above, the word boinking was flagged by the spell checker. I right-clicked on the word and looked at the list of correctly spelled suggestions. On the list was banking, and I almost chose that because the phrase interspecies banking was suddenly very appealing to me.

I’ll bet you’re sorry you even bothered to read this, aren’t you?

I really need to post something

2008-10-19T21:09:00.002-04:00

I really need to post something, but I have nothing to post. So, I'm posting the photo shown below.

Hail Satan?

2008-10-11T16:40:00.001-04:00

This morning I was at the Salvation Army looking for crap I don’t need. When I went into the cramped room with the books, the first thing I saw was a wheezing, disheveled old man who, upon seeing me inter the room, gave me a hand sign that was either sign language for I love you or the heavy metal devil horn sign. Either would strange, to put it mildly. Thankfully, he left, so I didn’t have to deal with him.

What about per joint?

2008-09-30T20:34:00.004-04:00

The insurance people came to work yesterday, and one of the things handed out was a strange list. On it, body parts were listed by price; so, if you lose a finger, you get $750. But, if you lose two or more fingers, you only get $1,500. Are they penalizing you for losing more than one finger? It should be $750 per finger and toe. Or maybe less for toes, since they aren't quite prehensile. How about $200 a toe? That sounds reasonable. Even the pinkie toe has to be worth something.

A reasoned response to current events

2008-09-29T18:08:00.002-04:00

OH MAH GAWD!!! AAAAHHHH!!! WE'RE DOOOOOMMMMMED!!! [Jumps through window.]

Strange scam spam

2008-09-28T08:39:00.003-04:00

I know this should go on my old, unused scam spam blog, but I'd rather post it here because I'm funny that way. The bizarre language is a welcome relief from the usual scam spam stuff. All I want from spam is a little entertainment, is that too much to ask?

Madam Grace Wilson,

Here writes Madam Grace Wilson, suffering from cancerous ailment. I am married to Sir David Wilson an Englishman who is dead. My husband was into private practice all his life before his death. Our life together as man and wife lasted for three decades without child. My husband died after a protracted illness. My husband and I made a vow to uplift the down-trodden and the less-privileged individuals as he had passion for persons who can not help themselves due to physical disability or financial predicament.

I can adduce this to the fact that he needed a Child from this relationship, which never came. When my late husband was alive he dposited the sum of 2.45 Million (2.45 Million Great Britain Pounds Sterling which were derived from his vast estates and investment in capital market with his bank here in UK.Presently, this money is still with the Bank. Recently, my Doctor told me that I have limited days to live due to the cancerous problems I am suffering from.

Though what bothers me most is the stroke that I have in addition to the cancer. With this hard reality that has befallen my family, and me I have decided to donate this fund to you and want you to use this gift which comes from my husbands effort to fund the upkeep of widows, widowers, orphans, destitute, the down-trodden,physically challenged children, barren-women and persons who prove to be genuinely handicapped financially.

I took this decision because I do not have any child that will inherit this money and my husband relatives are bourgeois and very wealthy persons and I do not want my husband's hard earned money to be misused or invested into ill perceived ventures. I do not want this money to be misused hence the reason for taking this bold decision.

I am not afraid of death hence I know where I am going. I do not need any telephone communication in this regard due to my deteriorating health and because of the presence of my husband's relatives around me.I do not want them to know about this development. As soon as I receive your reply I shall give you the contact of the bank in uk.

I will also issue you a Letter of Authority that will empower you as the original beneficiary of this fund. My happiness is that I lived a life worthy of emulation. Please assure me that you will act just as I have stated Hope to hear from you as soon as possible through my private email madamgracewilson1@hotmail.com

This week's lackluster blog-post

2008-09-27T18:14:00.001-04:00

Yesterday I was in CVS and saw Bill Clinton rubber masks on sale. I didn't notice any Bush masks.

"I graduated from the police academy, not art school!"

2008-09-20T20:56:00.002-04:00

I think the above illustration is easily the worst police composite sketch I've ever seen.

Horror of horrors

2008-09-18T21:50:00.003-04:00

Earlier today I was installing XP and, before I loaded the display driver, I got to see the horror that is the Windows XP desktop in 4 bit color. Imagine having to use the computer all the time with it looking like that. Sure fire way to cure you of your internet addiction.

Why morons shouldn't be allowed on the internet

2008-09-17T19:49:00.004-04:00

I've been known to bid on stuff listed on Ebay. Sometimes I end up bidding on stuff that I don't really want. Almost always I end up winning the auctions of stuff I really don't want but bid on anyway because I'm insane.

The photo above is my latest dumbass Ebay acquisition. It's a Dell PowerEdge 2450 server. You know, one of those things the internet runs on. I don't need one, but for some reason, about a week and a half ago, I became vaguely obsessed with the idea of owning one. So I began looking on Ebay for a cheap, older one. I bid on one, not thinking I'd actually get it. Also, I totally overlooked just how frickin' HUGE a rack-mount server is. It's over a yard long. It's as loud as a vacuum-cleaner. It's ugly. But it runs. In the above photo I have the thing running a Linux live CD and actually got it online and was looking at some jerk's lame blog.

I don't know what I'm going to do with it.

Let this be a lesson! Or something. I don't care.

Huh?

2008-09-15T19:45:00.001-04:00

WTF? I have a blog? Since when? 2002? Really? Can I go back to sleep now?

Kaboom

2008-09-08T20:31:00.001-04:00

Man, I really hope that Large Hadron Collider blows up the universe when they crank it up on Wednesday. Stupid universe. Enough already.

Leave Tina out of it

2008-09-07T20:40:00.001-04:00

Every time I see a mention of hurricane Ike in the news, the first thing I think of is Ike Turner.