Happy-time file make danny happy. So happy, in fact, that I will post it directly on the front page and not even worry about the bandwidth issues of loading a 2MB file every time somebody accesses this page:
Seriously, I could watch that all day. And I know it’s actually Thursday, but I just couldn’t wait.
I think that maybe the Prez was a douchebag in gym class, although probably a funny douchebag:
More fun Obama audio clips at April Winchell. Perfect for turning into ringtones.
We’ve been planning a trip to Maui this Fall for a couple years now. I like Hawaii, but I don’t much like the Ocean. I’m a tad ascared of it. So when my friends get all excited about the prospect of snorkeling, I will send them pictures like this:
Yeah, that’s a Great White that has been half-eaten by something even larger and toothier than a Great White. I’m going to pass on the snorkeling, thanks. Plus, last time I went in the Ocean in Hawaii I got swimmer’s ear, which was entirely unpleasant, even when you throw in the subsequently prescribed Vicodin.
C-Minus (the artist formally known as K-Mack) recently had a baby and she’s coming along just fine. I like her lots, in spite of the fact that she seems completely disinterested in her uncle Dan:
You wouldn’t think it, but babies are a tough audience. Maybe I just need to buy her more presents to gain her favor. I’m thinking this is a super cute shirt that everyone will enjoy:
Here’s a bonus creepy pic:
You might think that C-Minus’ house is dirty and dusty when you look at the beam of light coming through that window. I know I did. But she assured me, “No, that’s just bacon grease.” So no worries.
I’ve seen a lot of swirlie optical illusions on the web in my day, but this one blows my mind. How many colors do you see in the colorful swirlies below? Pink, Orange, Green, and Blue, right? WRONG. The blue and the green are the same color.
And as a personal companion piece, here is an old classic yawn-worthy optical illusion I video-taped at Puzzling World in Wanaka, New Zealand, which I feel is blogworthy since it’s at least on video, which means it’s totally high-tech and stuff:
There’s magic all up in this bitch!
The Goonies is 25 years old this year. And I can still remember the first time I ever saw it. Vividly.
I was ten years old – prime Goonie-lovin’ age – when it was released in theaters. My mother planned an outing for my friend Timmy Crocker and me to see it on a Wednesday. When we picked up Timmy, he started blabbing about how he had already seen the movie that previous weekend and how awesome it was. I was deflated.
By the time we reached the theater, he had summarized the entire plot of the movie. And he ended with this warning: “Man, there are so many skeletons in that movie… man, if you don’t like skeletons, you’re going to HATE this movie!”
I didn’t mind the skeletons at all, but I was surprised that he had completely omitted the malformed-manchild-chained-up-in-the-basement part of the movie, which really freaked my 10-year-old-sh!t out.
I was only friends with Timmy-the-Buzkill-Crocker for a couple more years, when one morning before school another classmate approached me to tell me that Tim had told everyone that I had cheated at a boardgame called Squiggle, and was therefore totally lame. I recall the game of Squiggle in question very vividly as well, and truth be told, I have no idea if I cheated or not, because I totally did not understand how to play the game but was pretending like I did. Timmy Crocker was a tad smarter than Dan was, you see, and I thought it was probably better to have the reputation of being a cheater than someone who was not smart enough to understand the needlessly complicated rules of a game called Squiggle. So I just let it slide. But Timmy Crocker didn’t hang out with me much after that.
Goonies is still one of my all-time favorites, though. Even if it was ruined for me in advance by the the Squiggle champion of the world.
ps. There is a board game out these days called Squiggle that is completely different than the game of my youth. One has something to do with drawing doodles and the other one has something to do with lots of colored blocks with random point values and shaming children who are not smart enough to play it. So try not to confuse the two.
People think that dogs are all sweet and kind and loving and man’s best friend and all that, but they are just as heartless and self-serving as humans:
I haven’t been a very good blogger as of late. I’ve been trying to sell my house and buy a new one and all that business has my guts tied up in knots and so animated GIFs just aren’t tickling my fancy right now. But I’m still making plently of embarrassing blunders of course:
I think it’s strange that my initial panic responses to these types of embarrassing scenarios is to say “Oh Jeeze” like I’m Marge Gunderson or something.
By this point my coworkers must be thinking I’m some closet perv who is unable to avoid overt Freudian slips. Stupid C and stupid X being so stupidly close together on the stupid keyboard. Sorry, Tara.
I’ve gotten a little pushy at work, so even if a coworker’s Instant Messenger status says they are “busy” or “away”, I just IM them anyway. This is probably obnoxious, but sometimes I just got no time for petty delays. My work is too important! Today my unbridled ambition and reckless haste may have backfired on me, though:
Tina must have thought I was insane. Or in some sex chatroom. Stupid T and stupid Y are so stupidly close together on the stupid keyboard. Sorry, Tina.
I went out to dinner last night, and my friends brought their grandchild along to join us. He is actually cute as a button and very well-behaved. He’s just entering the first grade and he even ate scallops and escargot without blinking an eye. When I was that age, I was crawling under the table like a common brat and nothing but pizza was ever allowed to penetrate my lips. So I was duely impressed.
But eventually, like any child would, he started to get antsy from having to sit in one place for so long, so to preoccupy him a bit his grandparents gave him a pen and a paper and told him to make a nice card for danny.
This is what I got:
Looks like I made a good impression on the lad. Not bad for a first-grader. Oh, he also told me a joke:
Q. How do you wake up Lady Gaga?
A: Poker Face.
I get a ton of requests to alter the Falling Georgie screensaver to feature a variety of different people. Usually random people’s bosses, parents, local politicians, or other unloved individuals. Apparently people can achieve a certain sense of stress release by throwing around some jackass they might not otherwise have control over.
I have been known to oblige these requests on occasion if it’s a global figure that I actually recognize, with the exception of a few psychotic despots who might hunt me down in retaliation or something. I’m not going to make a screensaver featuring some Mexican drug warlord, or Kim Jung Il, for instance.
But the other day I got my first non-politician request that I ever actually considered: the CEO of BP. So I went ahead and did it, mostly just for the fun of slopping oil all over the BP logo:
I love the internet because it is a perpetual boost to my self-confidence. Everywhere I look, there are people to remind me that I am lucky to have been born with whatever brains I got, because it’s apparently more than most.
Maybe I’m retired, but mystery tooth made my day!
Rejoice! The moment has arrived!
Subway Sandwich Shops officially began tessellating their cheese today, so instead of their previous overlapping stacked cheese triangle pattern, the triangles are supposed to be arranged to never overlap and to offer more complete sammich coverage.
So I visited my local Subway today in celebration of this blessed event, armed with my secret planetdan-cam. At first I was concerned, because the female Sandwich Artist was stacking the cheese the old-fashioned way for the patrons ahead of me. My face got hot as I mentally prepared a reproachful speech for when she would inevitably flub my pepperjack. Fortunately, there was a last minute employee switcheroo, and I got a pinch hitter.
As you can see, I was overjoyed to see that my new Sandwich Artist was heeding the new cheese placement directive. But my happiness soon faded as I realized that this also resulted in getting less cheese. I am almost certain that previous six-inchers were given three pieces of cheese, not two. Am I wrong?
ps. Forgive my big fat wide face in the video. It’s due to the camera angle, and not any sort of excessive Subway consumption.
Lasagna is my favorite. Especially at my mama’s. So when she told me she would be having me over for lasagna dinner on July 13th, I was understandably excited. We all marked our calendars. Then the other day I was leaving her house when I saw her daily planner:
Lasagna + Kill. She’s not exactly diabolical with her scheming, having posted it on her public wall calendar and all, but I was suspicious nonetheless. So, I casually asked her what the “plus kill” part of her day might involve on the 13th, and she got all flustered and mumbled something about it being related to my nephew Killian, who nobody has ever called “Kill” in his life (although “Killer Miller” is going to be the coolest nickname ever when he eventually enters the highschool sporting arena). I nodded in acknowledgement and got the hell out of there.
Is there an antedote to poisoned lasagna?