The Twentieth Anniversary of the NES

That's right kiddies, it's been 20 years since the Nintendo Entertainment System was released in the States. Yes, you're that old. Deal with it.

So put on those Power Gloves, bust out the Track and Field mat, and crack open a PBR. The NES isn't old enough to drink yet, so you'll just have to make up for it. It has been legal for two years, though, and it's probably wondering why the two of you have yet to consummate your love. The assorted denizens of the Interweb have been using their garbage columns and crummy blogs to give the little gray box passionate hickeys for about the past week and a half now. So what's your problem?

Never mind. Scott Colby isn't here to address your commitment issues. He doesn't need to hear about how you've been burned in the past, how your heart has been shattered into thousands of tiny pieces and flushed down the shitter, how your gay friends seem to have an easier time picking up chicks than you do, how the buffalo women in the Foggy Goggle are starting to not seem so bad. If your love life is really that horrible, you probably need to spend more time in the gym and taking care of your personal hygiene and less time reading this crap.

What he is here to do is plant his own unique kiss on the NES's blocky ass. All the other morons on the Interweb are honoring the console with silly little lists of influential games or with stories about their late nights playing Barbie's Dreamhouse while their unsuspecting parents slept. But in true I Stole Your Lunch spirit, Scott Colby is going to go further, dig deeper, and drink more, all in an effort to bring you the real reasons one should love the NES.

• It's clinically proven to prevent skin cancer. Thanks to the NES, Scott Colby never had a tan as a child. If you have skin cancer, you should probably sue your parents for making you go outside.
  
• "No, I want to be player one!" "Too bad, you're player two!" "But I want to be player one! He's green!" "I'm player one. You have to be purple!" "Mooooooooooooooooooooooooooomm!"
• The NES taught children everywhere that it is okay to eat funny looking mushrooms they find in random boxes.
• "Your Princess is in another castle" is the perfect metaphor for your pathetic love life.
• It gives grown men an excuse to wear overalls on Halloween.

Wow that sucked. But Scott Colby's bored with this stupid idea. You can make up the rest of the list on your own.

Lunchapalooza

As some of you Lunchkins may have heard, the apartment that Scott Colby calls home is up for sale for $1.5 million. This is not necessarily a bad thing, as the most likely negative effect of such a sale is that Scott Colby would have to learn how to spell the last name of the new landlord, which really won't be that tricky considering his prowess with the language.

Raul, however, is having issues with this. Convinced he is going to have to move, he cries into a pink shirt every night while trying to fall asleep. Mrs. Raul is finding it harder and harder to love a man she once considered a big burly lumberjack but now thinks of as nothing more than a horrible punchline in a second rate blog. She asked Scott Colby to find a way to make him quit his blubbering, and he said he would see what he can do.

After much thought (five minutes on the couch with a bottle of Harp qualifies as much thought in Scott Colby's world), it appears that the only way to guarantee that no one has to move is for Scott Colby to purchase the property himself. Unfortunately, he works at a nonprofit, and sales of ISYL merchandise have been extremely slow. "But Scott Colby, you are a golddigger! Have Kelly Clarkson or Natasha Bedingfield buy the building for you!" A week ago that would have worked - but then they discovered each other, and now neither will speak to Scott Colby. Women!

So all that's left to do is throw a kick ass party. At ten dollars a head, only 150,000 guests will have to show up. This will not be a problem, as Raul is very, very good at inviting everybody he knows, although Nick may need some help in that department.

Scott Colby gives you Lunchapalooza:

• Can't make it to the party? Well, for the low-low price of five bucks, you can have access to the live webcast. For another three dollars you can also access the hidden camera in the bathroom, and for another two dollars Scott Colby will sell you a plastic keyboard cover.
  
• Some whack mofo giving you shit? For three dollars, Scott Colby will have J-Rags serve him.
• Five big ones to have your picture taken with the Best Toaster Ever. Twelve if you want it to make you a bagel.
• Entrance to the Beirut tournament is free, because the drunker you get, the more likely it is you'll get rowdy and need to get served.
• Sometime around three in the morning, everyone will gather together in the backyard for a five minute group mooning of the third floor.
• Secondhand fat is prohibited.
• What's that? You want to know where the stinky cheese is, to go with your 20 year old red? Pay Scott Colby five dollars right now so he doesn't have his head of security, Chuck Norris, dropkick you into next week. If you're drinking wine, it better be straight out of the bottle, and that bottle better be in a brown paper bag.

One cannot throw a party of this magnitude without a few celebrity guests:

• Flava Flav - But only if he picks Hoopz.
• Lindsay Jacobellis - Because in her position, Scott Colby would not have gone for the silly little board grab. He would've popped off the full out backflip.
• Slick Willy - No explanation required.
• Chuck Norris - Head of security, with Don Johnson assisting.
• KT Tunstall - There is life after Kelly and Natasha.

Not invited:

• John Basedow.
• Anyone who's trips to the Foggy Goggle number in the double digits.
• The po-po.
  

Holy crap, three bulleted lists in one update! Is Lunchapalooza going to be awesome or what?

Random Thought

Being subjected to Scott Colby's horrible blog about secondhand fat is itself an example of secondhand fat.

The Cleverest Thing Scott Colby Has Ever Thought Of

For the majority of this fine day, Scott Colby had planned to grace your Interweb screen with a stupid update about how people need to learn how to fucking walk. It was all but completely written in his head when all of a sudden a ray of heavenly light tore through the idiocy and one hell of a good idea popped into his head.

Seriously. It's not just a good idea; it's actually borderline intelligent, almost Seinfeldian in scope.

Remember how in the late 90's it became royally uncool to smoke? Remember how one day no one gave a shit, then all of a sudden anyone who dared light up in public was all but stoned to death? Remember how the talking heads on the boob tube needed a word to describe the ill effects experienced by nonsmokers who only supposedly suffered those ill effects because they spent time around smoking people, so they invented the term "secondhand smoke?"

Lost yet? Don't worry, it gets funny soon.

So after the media beat that second hand smoke thing into the ground so far it couldn't dig itself out with anything less than a nuclear explosion, they needed something else. They declared obesity to be the new smoking, the next big American cultural stigma. Fat people, they predicted, would soon face the same degree of disgustedness as smokers.

When nonsmokers experience bad things because of time spent around smokers, it's secondhand smoke. Therefore, when healthy people have negative experiences due to the larger portions of the population, it's secondhand fat.

No, you moron, you're not going to get lung cancer from spending too much time around fat people. The effects of secondhand fat are far more subtle, and yet infinitely more horrible.

Let's say you can't fit on the train because there are a few people who realistically should be charged for three seats are clogging the aisle worse than Raul clogs the crapper when he comes home for five minutes twice a week. That's secondhand fat.

You know how McDonald's raised their prices and reduced their portions because some 400 pound eight year old who ate nineteen Happy Meals a day shat out the Hamburglar then had a stroke? That's secondhand fat.

The constant quakes that rattle the sidewalk outside the Foggy Goggle on a Friday night? You guessed it, secondhand fat. There are millions upon millions of examples. Secondhand fat could have its own website, and the dufus running it could update it twice a day for the next 37 years.

Not convinced that secondhand fat is the cleverest thing Scott Colby has ever thought of? Think about it. Then go to the bathroom mirror and try to say it a few times with a straight face. And then if you're still not convinced, remember that this is Scott Colby we're talking about here, and the majority of the things he thinks of are decidedly not clever.

So spread the word. Make secondhand fat a part of your daily vocabulary. If you're a teacher, set aside half an hour or so to discuss secondhand fat with your class. Go around the room and have each child describe a time when secondhand fat had an effect on them. Don't be surprised if there are a few misty eyes; it can be a tough thing to talk about, but it must be discussed. Plus, you'll totally be Teacher of the Year material, at least on this blog.

Scott Colby supposes he is lucky there are no fat people who read his blog. Some big boned people, sure, but no one who really, really qualifies as fat. Otherwise, there would probably be an army of buffalo chicks on his front lawn burning Kelly Clarkson posters.

The First Annual State of Your Lunch Address

There are dates and events all throughout our history that resonate deeply within our very humanity, triumphs that unite us all in spirit despite our physical and ideological differences. One such event happened on this very day just a single year ago.

On that fateful day, Scott Colby rolled out of bed half hung over. He stumbled into the kitchen, cursed his lack of donuts, and made himself a pair of waffles on the Foreman. He then realized he was bored, so he logged onto the Interweb and created the cultural phenomenon known as I Stole Your Lunch.

To commemorate ISYL's first year on the planet, Scott Colby has devised his dumbest idea yet, an idea sure to win him several accolades at the annual Internet Stupidity Conference and possibly get him on VH1's Web Junk 20. Plus, it will make Kelly Clarkson love him that much more.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Circus Freaks and Golddiggers, Scott Colby is proud to present the First Annual State of Your Lunch Address! You may wonder why it is presented in bulleted list format. Think back to every State of the Union Address you've ever watched - don't they all seem as if they were composed in bulleted list format? The president makes a stupid point, waits for everyone to clap, then moves on to his next stupid point without even attempting anything resembling order or flow. So in between each point, clap for a few seconds, so you experience the genuine awesomeness of this address in its entirety.

Hold on to your butts:

• Thanks to I Stole Your Lunch, attendance at the Foggy Goggle is at an all time low.
• Scott Colby's painting depicting the T happily chugging down the tracks has recently been purchased by the Louvre.
• A note to Flava Flav: Flav, you and Scott Colby have not always seen eye-to-eye on things (*cough* Brigitte *cough*), but he very much wants to see you walk out with the correct woman on Flavor of Love. Despite the show's high entertainment value, he suggests that you immediately send home all of them except Hoops. The rest are all crazy, and all they want is your money. Plus they're funny looking. If, however, you choose someone other than Hoops, you and Scott Colby will officially be fighting.
• I Stole Your Lunch would like to welcome Josh Moody to the Interweb! Check out his site at http://shmoody.com (warning: not safe for work, church, the library, class, the living room, or anywhere other than a 5x5 padded cell. In fact, you might want to avoid this site at all costs unless you are already a convicted felon. Scott Colby means that from the very bottom of his heart). Just another reason to be horribly, terribly afraid of the Interweb. There's a reason People magazine named Josh Moody their 2006 "Man Most Likely to Become the Next Unabomber."
  
• Just in case Scott Colby offends some extremists, all officially licensed I Stole Your Lunch merchandise will be made of 100% asbestos.
• Scott Colby would like to thank all those who've inspired him to such hitherto undefined heights of idiocy: Kelly Clarkson, the Best Toaster Ever, A-Rod, the denizens of the Foggy Goggle, the T, the cracked out people who ride the T, the cab driver who told Scott Colby never to get married, people who think wine and cheese parties are classy even when they are held in Slummerville, Fitness Celebrity John Basedow, douche bag landlords, and every manufacturer of alcholic beverages on the planet.
• He would also like to thank his legions of loyal Lunchkins for admitting that they occasionally find his site to be slightly better than bad, in no particular order: Raul, Steve Rossi, Mr. Peterson, 10-esha, Bleidiggity, Mr. Pickle, J-Rags, J$, that bot that keeps spamming the comments with a link to a fake blog, and Anonymous. Remember: next time you read an update about Scott Colby riding the T with John Basedow to the Foggy Goggle, it's all your fault. If you hadn't encouraged him, he would've given up and switched to MySpace a long time ago.

Now, go forth and celebrate I Stole Your Lunch Day, and be creative. Post comments about your celebrations to inspire others. It is a joyous occasion indeed!

Congratulations to Kelly Clarkson for Winning Two Grammies

They will look really nice on the mantle of Scott Colby's yacht. Now he can throw out those ugly ass moon men she won from MTV.

A Message to America's Children

Hi kids! Are your parents mindless sheep who believe everything the news media tells them, even worthless pieces of crap like this:

http://www.cbs47.tv/news/local/story.aspx?content_id=1D2AF830-7799-412B-96BB-F757EECA9674

That's right kids, the media is trying to take away your Nintendo. Playing video games is worse than doing drugs or pissing in the holy water, don't you know. CBS even went so far as to provide a list of 25 common sense things your parents will try to trick you into doing that they never, ever would've come up with on their own. Do not fall for these dastardly activities! They may seem tempting to your little five year old minds, but that's just because you don't know any better! They will ruin your childhood in ways you can't possibly understand.

Create a skit to perform in front of your friends? Why would your friends turn off Half-Life 2 to go watch your stupid ass act? And if they do forsake the games to come see you, you might want to think twice about whether you actually want those losers to be your friends.

Discover activities in your community center or local park? Are you trying to get abducted? Does it want to put the lotion on its skin?

Make a necklace or other jewelry out of beads? Sing and dance to your favorite songs? If your father's any kind of man at all, he wouldn't stand for that crap. And if he does, it may be time to think about dropping out of school to join the military so you don't grow up to be a total wussy.

Unfortunately, no matter how much you object, there's no way in hell your parents will let you turn that Xbox back on after they've read that article. It's kind of like how they cut all the pull strings out of your favorite hoody after they saw that "When Sweatshirts Attack!" report on the 11 o'clock news, or when they took away your Transformers because Bill O'Reilly claimed the whole line to be a liberal plot to convince children that jets and guns are bad. That was a horrible example, but it just proves how dumb your parents really are.

So what is a kid to do when his or her parents decides building a model car, boat, or plane is more constructive than fragging the Flood? Get even, that's what!

See, it all works on the idea that you will have lots and lots of time to spare when your parents lock up the video games. However, if you can convince them that video games are a safer alternative, you win!

So here is the official I Stole Your Lunch List of Ways to Get Your Xbox Down Off That Really High Shelf in the Closet, presented in bulleted list form so as to be immediately superior to CBS's numbered list.

• Locate the VHS tape of your parents' wedding. Record several dozen John Basedow commercials over the only copy of the ceremony.
• Ask them where babies come from. Every five minutes.
• Find three stray cats. Label them 1, 2, and 4, and release them in your parents' bedroom. Repeat the process two weeks later with raccoons.
• Remove the batteries from every electronic device in the house.
• Siphon the gas from your parents' automobiles and sell it on the side of the road.
• Uninstall Internet Explorer.
• If it's that time of year between November and March, constantly turn the thermostat down to 62 degrees.
• Invite a hobo over for pancakes.
• Make them read you I Stole Your Lunch as a bedtime story.

Ha! It only took Scott Colby nine ideas to counteract that list of 25! Eat that CBS!

The Media Does it Again

Scott Colby hates the people on the news. He hates the people who write for newspapers. He hates everyone and anyone associated with disseminating information to the masses through conventional means.

Why? Scott Colby does not think that they think things through before they speak or write.

Take, for example, that terrorist guy who escaped from prison the other day. Every newspaper headline and every cheesy TV graphic that accompanied the story described this guy as a terrorist mastermind.

They got it half right. The terrorist part you can't argue with. But a mastermind? This guy's claim to fame was filling a boat with bombs and driving it into another boat. If there was a Nobel Prize for Nefarious Schemes, and there should be, that strategy wouldn't have gotten a single vote from the academy. Supposedly he's also very good at telling people to strap explosive shit to themselves and run at things that look important.

Masterminds everywhere should be offended. This guy doesn't have any lasers, or a maze of death, or trained sharks packing rocket launchers. His henchmen don't wear futuristic uniforms, nor does he have a second in command with an interesting-if-a-bit-contrived method of killing his victims. He's just some jackass who Googled the Anarchist's Cookbook. Chuck Norris would not bother trying to defeat him as he is a waste of a true American hero's time.

So please, news media, for the sake of the world's true evil geniuses, do not lightly bandy about the word mastermind, and think before you speak or write.

Special Celebrity Guest

It's here! Has Scott Colby ever made a promise he couldn't keep? He gives you the first ever special celebrity guest to I Stole Your Lunch: the T!

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Heidy ho, your friendly neighborhood T here. Sorry I'm late. Oh, wait, no I'm not. I never am - why should I be this time?

So Scott Colby invited me to help spruce up his silly little Internet thingy here because he's lazy and he can't keep you idiots entertained all by himself. He assures me that the words I'm typing in this box will show up next time I click on my little blue e, but I'm not sure I believe him. This technology stuff gives me the willies.

What does the T have to weblog about? I thought I would start by giving you a play-by-play of my latest -

THE DESTINATION OF THIS TRAIN IS :
ASHMONT

Sorry, pardon my Tourett's. As I was saying, I won my latest chicken match against the BU frats. Some big dufus with a square head and a striped shirt was standing on my tracks, and he was all like "Give me your best shot bitch!" and I was all like "Oh noo joo diiii-iiiiinnnt!" and needless to say I am still undefeated. And then I took his girl home (keep your mind out of the gutter - I actually took her home. I'm a freakin train - but she had a nice caboose, if you know what I mean).

Anyways, now that the excitement is over with, there are a few important announcements I would like to make about my service to you.

1) Tokens are expensive. In an effort to cut my costs, cans of PBR and Natty Light are now accepted as fares.

2) Fares will now vary depending on a rider's weight. This is my gift of tough love to the obese community. You'd rather walk to work for free than spend $8 to get from Longwood to Boylston, now wouldn't you, you tubby bastard you! You will be svelt like my good friend Scott Colby in no time.

Well, that's it for now. Please remember to report any unattended packages. I pay my drivers with those things.

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Scott Colby promises that will never, ever happen again.