Archive for December, 2010
C-Minus sent me this not-so-perplexing image the other day, along with the message:
“U forgot ur scarf at my house. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it warm.”
I hope she thinks that playing that joke on me was worth the price of a new scarf.
C-Minus sent me this perplexing image the other day:
The only rational, non-idiotic reason this sign would exist would be if it were advertising a sale on actual plastic toy quarters or something, for playing with a toy cash register perhaps. But even then, spending fifty cents on a toy quarter would seem absurd, especially when you could just use a real quarter and save fifty percent.
I haven’t had an Animated Friday in a long time, simply because they have begun to lose their allure. There are a ton of sites devoted to animated GIFs out there, so what’s the point of me posting them anymore? But then I came across this site, which renews my love of Animated GIFs by literally repackaging them for xmas:
So, go ahead and open your Christmas GIF.
For placing second in the unofficial Xmas Sweater contest at my work party last night, I got a prize:
It’s a semi-creepy Scottish-style, Xmas-inspired Tam o’ Shanter cap. If I was worried that my Snoopy-Riding-a Candy-Cane-Xmas Vest made me look like a pedophile before, then as I added the hat last night I probably sent people’s pedo-meters into the red.
But, I suspect that Snoopy vest has seen it’s last party, as least on my body. So I guess this won’t be an issue any longer. It’s still up in the air as to whether or not the Dan o’ Shanter will make any future appearances.
My car and I got all smooshy smooshed last night. I was just minding my own bidness when an SUV jumped the median to my left and slammed into my driver’s-side door, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision. I could have easily gone through life without needing to know what an airbag feels like as it pummels your face, but I guess I’m lucky to have had the experience, if that’s how you wanna look at it.
After the guy hit me, my car was forced off into a nearby snowbank, and so it took me a while to get my berrings. A witness came up and asked if I was alright, and then for some reason I started to gather all the CDs that were now scattered about my car. Eventually, the driver of the other car came over. He was a younger man of undeterminable Eastern origin, and this is how that particular conversation went:
Him: Oh man, it’s slippery out there.
My Thoughts: I think I’m okay from what I can tell, thanks for asking.
Me Out Loud: Uh, yeah, I guess. You okay?
Him: I saw the red break lights in front of me and so I swerved to not hit them.
My Thoughts: You swerved into oncoming traffic to avoid rear-ending someone? Brilliant.
Me Out Loud: Oh.
Him: It’s not even my car.
My Thoughts: Well this used to be my car, but I guess we should be more worried about you right now.
Me Out Loud: Oh. That sucks.
* long pause *
Him: So… do you know the laws around here?
My Thoughts: Here we go…
Me Out Loud: Ye…
Him, Cutting Me Off: Because I don’t really have a license to drive.
My Thoughts: Oh Jebus.
Me Out Loud: But you got insurance right?
Him: Oh yes, I think she does.
* he looks over my car *
Him: Man, you lucky to be alive.
My Thoughts: If you don’t shut up and get out of my sight you’re going to be lucky to be alive.
Me Out Loud: I’m going to get out of the street and wait for the cops now.
In my limited experience, cops are generally not very amiable. It was ten below and I was freezing, and I asked if we could sit in a squad car while they wrote out the report. He just stared at me, without replying, grimmacing just enough for me to notice. Then a more civilized civil servant came over and said I could sit in the back of his squad car, usually reserved for handcuffed criminals, except the second I got in there on those hard plastic seats and with the glass divider pane right up against my face, I got super claustrophobic and I made him let me out again. I probably wasn’t making any new dan fans in law enforcement.
Somehow the driver’s side mirror ended up on the passenger seat floor, without smashing my face on its way over, so I was glad about that. I got a few small cuts on my hands from when the window exploded, and I can still feel where that airbag hit my face this morning, but I got no exciting bruises to show for it.
This airbag and I have a complicated love/hate relationship right now.
Now comes the worst part: dealing with the insurance agencies and trying to figure out how I’m going to get around for the next couple weeks.
Yay for Minnesota Winters!
It’s all blizzardy up in here.
Being snowed in for the weekend was supposed to be fun, but I had too much to do, and somehow I lost my keys without ever leaving the house, which is like one of those locked-room mysteries, and everything has been a major frustration. Especially the driving, when actually being able to stop your car becomes a luxury.
A coworker told me to get some blizzacks for my car, to help with the traction. I thought he was talking like Snoop Dogg in the hizzity hizzouse or whatever, and I was all “What are blacks?” And he was all “No, I said blizzacks,” and I was all “Like blizzity blizzacks?” and then there was a weird back and forth exchange where neither of us could comprehend what the other one was talking about. Finally I deduced that Blizzacks are actually a brand of tire or something.
Anyway, I need a snowday to recover from this snowday.
A few years ago I went to a wax museum in Las Vegas while I was a little tipsy and took some admittedly obnoxious photos. Then I dedicated a web photo gallery to the whole experience. It never got much traffic on my site, but over the last few months I’ve been getting a lot of emails and comments from people having seen my photos on other websites. So I went and googled “Drunk Guy at a Wax Museum” and it looks like my image set has been making the rounds on dozens of sites across the globe.
File Under: Too Drunk to Care
All of these sites are basically vultures. They just go around stealing other people’s content without any citations or links back to the original authors, most likely for the ad revenue, but also sometimes to deliver computer viruses, which is why I spent three hours removing the Antivirus Action Virus from my machine the other day (which is also why I’m not naming any of these other sites, because I don’t want the same thing to happen to anyone else). That sucked, but it was fun seeing my face on sites in China and India, surrounded by language which could have been calling for fatwas against me, for all I know.
The content theft doesn’t bother me all that much, since I’ve posted my share of uncited content, and since that’s kinda the nature of the digital beast. Plus, most of those vulture sites get a lot more traffic than my little blog has ever received, which means they also get a lot more comments. And it’s always fun to read what other random internet people think of me and my photo buffoonery:
The comment that tries to curse me with the haunting of dead celebrities is pretty awesome. That one took some effort. Here are some from another site:
I guess the “look at me” generation is better than “Generation X” or whatever. Reality Bites, man. But I do have my defenders as well (I apologize in advance for the language. Apparently I have some fans on the Jersey Shore.):
Allow me to repost that as text, to make it easier to read so that everyone can appreciate its eloquence:
i agree, this guy looks fun as fuck ! also, bitches need to shut up! always fuckin cryin about something i swear. i wanna play with the boys why are the boys mean wahhhh!! stfu !!!!!!!!!!! im a heterosexual girl and i cant stand a bitch boy omg! ……………………………………….boys are fun! shut up! playing w/ boys is fun!! go away if you want to make your fucking female points .. so irritating….. you know seriously, this is why women get no respect. because of your fucking whining everytime you try playing with the big kids man. this is the fucking internet… i dont know you people and i dont care about your whiny female feelings ! honestly! theres shit you girls say sometimes on here -funny as fuck- but then i gotta look at the whininess .. lovely. rubber dog turds was correct. the boys laugh it off, the girls have to cry . i wonder what delights will be said about this, if it isnt too late. what shit will be said by the girls for my complaints here… considering im also a bitch…. i wonder………
Again, sorry for the language. The rampant vulgarities are clearly nothing more than a symptom of her unrestrainable passion. And although that part about rubber dog turds is a little out of nowhere, I agree with her sentiment completely: Bitches be trippin’. And the one reply to her comment was totally cruel and unwarranted:
I bought an ugly xmas sweater off eBay the other day to wear to my company xmas party this year. Then, as a practice run I wore it to a friendly holiday get-together last weekend, and rather than chuckles and smiles I got winces and stinkeyes. Eventually someone admitted what everyone else was thinking: my funky xmas sweater made me look like a pedophile.
I don’t see it. Is it the Snoopys riding candy canes? The peppermint piping? The feminine cut? The oversized fit? Maybe it’s all in their own perverse minds, but now I’m nervous about wearing it to my work party next week.