I was about to start with a sentence apologizing for not being able to identify the source of the little black dot that appeared at the beginning of this update as soon as I started typing, but then I realized it was something stuck to my screen and felt stupid. It won't come off.
First off, I'd like to announce this year's fundraiser for I Stole Your Lunch. For every $25 you donate, J-Rags will ghostride the whip for a quarter of a mile. For $50, you can dictate the particular sequence of moves he'll attempt to execute for that quarter of a mile. Want to see him transition from the Lawnmower into the Funky Chicken into a hood slide into the Macarena into that dance he does whenever he gets drunk and decides to dance with a slutty girl? Pony up, bitches! All proceeds go to the Scott Colby Emergency Jack Daniels Fund, which benefits underpriveleged children in poor neighborhoods whose only reason to live is being able to read I Stole Your Lunch for free over the neighbor's wide open wireless network.
Tonight I had a second dinner of tater tots, peas, and corn. This is the only vegetarian meal I've had in the past six years. No way this wonderful bounty would've found its way to my plate if Nick hadn't spent so much time watching Food Network. Rachel Ray would be proud.
I saw the gravy boat at the gym again. Seems she's found a new job sitting on the backs of meatheads while they try to do push ups.
Anyone else notice the direct corollary between negative press for Britney Spears and good press for Christina Aguilera? Smart marketing on Christina's part. Britney couldn't get on Oprah now if she was a fifteen year old with three kids who'd written a sappy ass novel about her life.
Go away, I have a girl to talk to.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
A Little of Everything
Thoughts on...
The Gym
I don't think I'd be able to work at one of these places, especially if it was my responsibility to sell memberships. I'd most likely end up laughing in the face of a good portion of the people trying to sign up. And yes, I would've laughed at myself.
I saw a really huge girl trying to use the back machine today, and I spent a good twenty minutes trying to figure out what kind of boat she equated to. Tugboat didn't seem like enough, and houseboat just wasn't working. U-boat may have worked if she'd been working out in leiderhosen. I finally settled on something that made me laugh out loud and lose my grip on the biceps curl: she's not a tugboat or a houseboat or a U-boat, she's a god damn gravy boat!
Unfortunately, the back of her shirt pulled up a bit everytime she used the machine, revealing a tattoo that probably would've worked better on someone else: "Princess" written in flowery script. Of course, it's also entirely possible that this tattoo was to commemorate something she ate, as she appeared able to devour your average bulimic in a single gulp. I wasn't nearly as concerned with the tattoo's origin as I was with its future. The skin supporting it looked a bit flabby and loose. So let's say she goes to the gym regularly and avoids the damn Dairy Queen...that flab is going to go away, and the tattoo may contract a bit to match. There seems to be a very good chance that "Princess" could become "Piss," and that would just be hilarious.
The Fucking Weather
I understand how people can like snow. It looks ok on the way down, and there's something serene and (gasp!) almost pretty about a field of untouched snow.
But what happens in Boston when the temperature drops below 32 degrees Farenheit and the clouds open up isn't snow, it's a natural fucking disaster. There's nothing beautiful or pristine about winter in this city, unless maybe you're on the common or on crystal meth.
Crossing the street becomes like trying to raid a castle surrounded by a 30 foot moat.
You'd better do your best to avoid walking too close to the curb unless you want to look like the loser of a mud wrestling contest because some douche bag on a cell phone couldn't get his SUV around a pothole. People do their best to avoid the cracks in the street during the warmer months, but I swear they start aiming for them as soon as they're full of icy muck.
And you can tell this storm came up the coast. I swear certain piles of snow smell like New Jersey.
Deal or No Deal
I caught a bit of this show while eating dinner in Flan's tonight. For whatever reason, I'm much more inclined to watch TV when said set is on the other side of a bar than I am when it's in the middle of someone's living room.
Anyone who laughs at me for watching professional wrestling and then turns on Deal or No Deal and thinks they aren't being hypocritical deserves a kick in whatever they have for reproductive organs.
Deal or No Deal generally tries to be as ridiculously melodramatic as possible while showing off some good looking girls and making the occasional joke that isn't really funny - and this is different from wrestling how? If they gave Howie Mandel cool entrance music and lit off fireworks when he walked onto the set to start a show, I'd be half expecting "Stone Cold" Steve Austin to climb out from under the stage and whack him in the back of the head with a briefcase labeled 3:16.
It really grates on me whenever Howie says something like "You've got to keep the $750,000 in play." As if the contestant has any control over his or her own dumb luck. Look at how skillfully she selects number 12! Great form!
And is this the same Howie Mandel that used to put on one of the dirtiest comedy acts I've ever seen? If so, who castrated him?
The Gym
I don't think I'd be able to work at one of these places, especially if it was my responsibility to sell memberships. I'd most likely end up laughing in the face of a good portion of the people trying to sign up. And yes, I would've laughed at myself.
I saw a really huge girl trying to use the back machine today, and I spent a good twenty minutes trying to figure out what kind of boat she equated to. Tugboat didn't seem like enough, and houseboat just wasn't working. U-boat may have worked if she'd been working out in leiderhosen. I finally settled on something that made me laugh out loud and lose my grip on the biceps curl: she's not a tugboat or a houseboat or a U-boat, she's a god damn gravy boat!
Unfortunately, the back of her shirt pulled up a bit everytime she used the machine, revealing a tattoo that probably would've worked better on someone else: "Princess" written in flowery script. Of course, it's also entirely possible that this tattoo was to commemorate something she ate, as she appeared able to devour your average bulimic in a single gulp. I wasn't nearly as concerned with the tattoo's origin as I was with its future. The skin supporting it looked a bit flabby and loose. So let's say she goes to the gym regularly and avoids the damn Dairy Queen...that flab is going to go away, and the tattoo may contract a bit to match. There seems to be a very good chance that "Princess" could become "Piss," and that would just be hilarious.
The Fucking Weather
I understand how people can like snow. It looks ok on the way down, and there's something serene and (gasp!) almost pretty about a field of untouched snow.
But what happens in Boston when the temperature drops below 32 degrees Farenheit and the clouds open up isn't snow, it's a natural fucking disaster. There's nothing beautiful or pristine about winter in this city, unless maybe you're on the common or on crystal meth.
Crossing the street becomes like trying to raid a castle surrounded by a 30 foot moat.
You'd better do your best to avoid walking too close to the curb unless you want to look like the loser of a mud wrestling contest because some douche bag on a cell phone couldn't get his SUV around a pothole. People do their best to avoid the cracks in the street during the warmer months, but I swear they start aiming for them as soon as they're full of icy muck.
And you can tell this storm came up the coast. I swear certain piles of snow smell like New Jersey.
Deal or No Deal
I caught a bit of this show while eating dinner in Flan's tonight. For whatever reason, I'm much more inclined to watch TV when said set is on the other side of a bar than I am when it's in the middle of someone's living room.
Anyone who laughs at me for watching professional wrestling and then turns on Deal or No Deal and thinks they aren't being hypocritical deserves a kick in whatever they have for reproductive organs.
Deal or No Deal generally tries to be as ridiculously melodramatic as possible while showing off some good looking girls and making the occasional joke that isn't really funny - and this is different from wrestling how? If they gave Howie Mandel cool entrance music and lit off fireworks when he walked onto the set to start a show, I'd be half expecting "Stone Cold" Steve Austin to climb out from under the stage and whack him in the back of the head with a briefcase labeled 3:16.
It really grates on me whenever Howie says something like "You've got to keep the $750,000 in play." As if the contestant has any control over his or her own dumb luck. Look at how skillfully she selects number 12! Great form!
And is this the same Howie Mandel that used to put on one of the dirtiest comedy acts I've ever seen? If so, who castrated him?
Monday, February 12, 2007
Myth or Reality?
While waiting for a Lechmere or North Station train in Government Center on my way to work other day, I noticed an advertisement on the side of the tunnel. It was divided along a diagonal, with one side red and the other yellow. One side read "Myth: Antidepressants eliminate all symptoms of depression" or something along those lines. The other read "Reality: Over seventy percent of people on antidepressants still experience symptoms of depression" or some such. The only thing both sides had in common was an infuriating lack of periods. A website mentioned in small print across the bottom of the advertisement promised further enlightenment.
My first thought, of course, was that I was going to have to start walking to work to avoid the Scientologist propaganda that was sure to soon overrun the entirety of the MBTA. Then I saw a few similar bits of crapvertising that cast psychiatric medicine in less of a negative light, and I realized it was just a stupid public information campaign.
And yet I still felt the need to start packing a Sharpie so that I might improve these blights upon the MBTA's otherwise lovely tunnels. Then I realized that I'd either just lose the Sharpie or trip over the tracks and break my neck while trying to get to the offending posters, so I figured I'd just take care of this need in blog form. Blogging about it also allows me to keep my glass of whiskey out in the open, rather than having to conceal the entire bottle in a paper bag whilst defacing stupid ads.
And awaaaaaaaaaaaay we go...
Myth: Obscure advertising is a great way to get people's attention.
Reality: Obscure advertising is a great way to make dumb people scratch themselves in confusion and make smart people queef a bubble.
Myth: Scott Colby takes the T to work.
Reality: Scott Colby ghost rides the whip to get anywhere and everywhere he needs to go.
Myth: I'm going to take my headphones out of my ears to talk to every homeless bum who tries to stop me on the street.
Reality: Take a bath and get a job. Then go fuck yourself.
Myth: You're depressed.
Reality: Your blood alcohol content is too low, and you may be suffering from an acute lack of donuts or pie.
Myth: How come everytime you come around my London-London Bridge wanna go down?
Reality: I ain't no hollaback girl.
Myth: This is just a cheap variation on the bulleted list style pioneered by I Stole Your Lunch.
Reality: This whole thing is written in iambic pentameter. Prove me wrong if thou can, Mercutio.
Myth: Anna Nicole Smith is dead.
Reality: Anna Nicole Smith is filming a pornographic video with Elvis, Tupac, and Biggie on the Hollywood set used to fake the moon landing. The soundtrack is being written and performed by Axl, Slash, and the rest of the original Guns 'n Roses for their reunion tour.
Myth: I can't download "I'm No Angel" from the iTunes Store because they don't have any Greg Allman.
Reality: I've been missing the second "g" on the end of Gregg Allman's first name for the past month and a half. C'mon baby...c'mon let me show you my tattoo...
Myth: Wow! This blog just gets better and better with each successive update!
Reality: You're a dumb shit. The first five or six entries were good - you should read those, then give up. The rest is crap. In that regard, I Stole Your Lunch is a perfect mirror for Kevin Bacon's movie career.
Myth: This is your brain on drugs.
Reality: This is Scott Colby on a bottle of Smuttynose Winter Ale, two snifters of Jameson on the rocks, and a piece of sausage pizza.
My first thought, of course, was that I was going to have to start walking to work to avoid the Scientologist propaganda that was sure to soon overrun the entirety of the MBTA. Then I saw a few similar bits of crapvertising that cast psychiatric medicine in less of a negative light, and I realized it was just a stupid public information campaign.
And yet I still felt the need to start packing a Sharpie so that I might improve these blights upon the MBTA's otherwise lovely tunnels. Then I realized that I'd either just lose the Sharpie or trip over the tracks and break my neck while trying to get to the offending posters, so I figured I'd just take care of this need in blog form. Blogging about it also allows me to keep my glass of whiskey out in the open, rather than having to conceal the entire bottle in a paper bag whilst defacing stupid ads.
And awaaaaaaaaaaaay we go...
Myth: Obscure advertising is a great way to get people's attention.
Reality: Obscure advertising is a great way to make dumb people scratch themselves in confusion and make smart people queef a bubble.
Myth: Scott Colby takes the T to work.
Reality: Scott Colby ghost rides the whip to get anywhere and everywhere he needs to go.
Myth: I'm going to take my headphones out of my ears to talk to every homeless bum who tries to stop me on the street.
Reality: Take a bath and get a job. Then go fuck yourself.
Myth: You're depressed.
Reality: Your blood alcohol content is too low, and you may be suffering from an acute lack of donuts or pie.
Myth: How come everytime you come around my London-London Bridge wanna go down?
Reality: I ain't no hollaback girl.
Myth: This is just a cheap variation on the bulleted list style pioneered by I Stole Your Lunch.
Reality: This whole thing is written in iambic pentameter. Prove me wrong if thou can, Mercutio.
Myth: Anna Nicole Smith is dead.
Reality: Anna Nicole Smith is filming a pornographic video with Elvis, Tupac, and Biggie on the Hollywood set used to fake the moon landing. The soundtrack is being written and performed by Axl, Slash, and the rest of the original Guns 'n Roses for their reunion tour.
Myth: I can't download "I'm No Angel" from the iTunes Store because they don't have any Greg Allman.
Reality: I've been missing the second "g" on the end of Gregg Allman's first name for the past month and a half. C'mon baby...c'mon let me show you my tattoo...
Myth: Wow! This blog just gets better and better with each successive update!
Reality: You're a dumb shit. The first five or six entries were good - you should read those, then give up. The rest is crap. In that regard, I Stole Your Lunch is a perfect mirror for Kevin Bacon's movie career.
Myth: This is your brain on drugs.
Reality: This is Scott Colby on a bottle of Smuttynose Winter Ale, two snifters of Jameson on the rocks, and a piece of sausage pizza.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Is it really a bomb scare if no one's particularly afraid?
http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/01/31/boston.bombscare/index.html
Kick me in the face and make it go away.
Let me preface by saying that we are in a pretty sad state when we automatically assume something is a bomb just because we don't know what it is, and that the real terrorists achieve a measure of victory every time we react this way.
I can just imagine the thought process of whatever official got to one of these babies first: "It's not pizza...not a donkey...not a house...not a car...not a cow...not the Internet...too small to be Sally Struthers...not a bird...not a plane...doesn't smell like beer...ergo, therefore, it is indubitably a bomb! Egad!"
If I've learned anything from Josh Moody it's that no self-respecting bomber would be dumb enough to leave his explosives sitting obviously in the middle of very public places covered with BLINKING FUCKING LIGHTS. We are not in a Bruce Willis movie here, people.
Especially since life most often imitates a Bruce Campbell movie, but I digress.
And if these guys receive jail time for their little stunt, something is seriously wrong. I think they should be fined for being a public nuisance and either their advertising agency or Fox should have to foot the Bomb Squad bill, but sending a couple of guys to prison for a bunch of little boxes that COULD have had explosives in them is ludicrous and sets a dangerous precedent.
These events also provide several great examples of why I'd like to dropkick most public officials and journalists. From the above article:
"Authorities believe Berdovsky was "in the employ of other individuals" as part of the marketing campaign, Coakley said. "How exactly this was executed, we are still investigating.""
Gee, I may not have a Ph. D. in criminology...but I'd say chances are pretty good they made a list of places with a lot of foot traffic and just kind of put them there.
"Wednesday evening, Cartoon Network was running a statement during commercial breaks, expressing deep regret for "the hardships experienced as a result of this incident.""
I expect a personal apology from Cartoon Network because news concerning this shit won't get off my TV or Internet.
""It had a very sinister appearance," Coakley told reporters. "It had a battery behind it, and wires.""
Alone, batteries and wires are completely harmless. But put them together...and anything with both a battery and wires is obviously out to eat your children.
"Menino told reporters he received a call from a Turner spokesperson about 9 p.m. but had not yet returned it. "I think the city deserves a call, not from a press person, but from somebody in the corporate structure of Turner," he said."
What Mumbles actually said was something more along the lines of "Aboaboboeaoblesoeb. Abhodibkesokes!"
"Some of the devices were placed on private property, she said, which "raises a lot of questions about, at the very least, the responsibility of anybody who would do this.""
She's basically saying that all vandals are irredeemable sinners who should be burned at the stake.
"Boston Police Commissioner Edward Davis called it "unconscionable" that the marketing campaign was executed in a post 9/11 era. "It's a foolish prank on the part of Turner Broadcasting," he said. "In the environment nowadays ..."
I'm sorry, but aren't we supposedly more prepared now than we were six years ago? Doesn't that mean a real disaster would cause less damage now than it would have during that time?
I'm done. No energy for a conclusion.
Kick me in the face and make it go away.
Let me preface by saying that we are in a pretty sad state when we automatically assume something is a bomb just because we don't know what it is, and that the real terrorists achieve a measure of victory every time we react this way.
I can just imagine the thought process of whatever official got to one of these babies first: "It's not pizza...not a donkey...not a house...not a car...not a cow...not the Internet...too small to be Sally Struthers...not a bird...not a plane...doesn't smell like beer...ergo, therefore, it is indubitably a bomb! Egad!"
If I've learned anything from Josh Moody it's that no self-respecting bomber would be dumb enough to leave his explosives sitting obviously in the middle of very public places covered with BLINKING FUCKING LIGHTS. We are not in a Bruce Willis movie here, people.
Especially since life most often imitates a Bruce Campbell movie, but I digress.
And if these guys receive jail time for their little stunt, something is seriously wrong. I think they should be fined for being a public nuisance and either their advertising agency or Fox should have to foot the Bomb Squad bill, but sending a couple of guys to prison for a bunch of little boxes that COULD have had explosives in them is ludicrous and sets a dangerous precedent.
These events also provide several great examples of why I'd like to dropkick most public officials and journalists. From the above article:
"Authorities believe Berdovsky was "in the employ of other individuals" as part of the marketing campaign, Coakley said. "How exactly this was executed, we are still investigating.""
Gee, I may not have a Ph. D. in criminology...but I'd say chances are pretty good they made a list of places with a lot of foot traffic and just kind of put them there.
"Wednesday evening, Cartoon Network was running a statement during commercial breaks, expressing deep regret for "the hardships experienced as a result of this incident.""
I expect a personal apology from Cartoon Network because news concerning this shit won't get off my TV or Internet.
""It had a very sinister appearance," Coakley told reporters. "It had a battery behind it, and wires.""
Alone, batteries and wires are completely harmless. But put them together...and anything with both a battery and wires is obviously out to eat your children.
"Menino told reporters he received a call from a Turner spokesperson about 9 p.m. but had not yet returned it. "I think the city deserves a call, not from a press person, but from somebody in the corporate structure of Turner," he said."
What Mumbles actually said was something more along the lines of "Aboaboboeaoblesoeb. Abhodibkesokes!"
"Some of the devices were placed on private property, she said, which "raises a lot of questions about, at the very least, the responsibility of anybody who would do this.""
She's basically saying that all vandals are irredeemable sinners who should be burned at the stake.
"Boston Police Commissioner Edward Davis called it "unconscionable" that the marketing campaign was executed in a post 9/11 era. "It's a foolish prank on the part of Turner Broadcasting," he said. "In the environment nowadays ..."
I'm sorry, but aren't we supposedly more prepared now than we were six years ago? Doesn't that mean a real disaster would cause less damage now than it would have during that time?
I'm done. No energy for a conclusion.
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