I've watched a lot of sports in my life, and have dealt with it as best I can. Local sports are easier to deal with-- you see the same commercials over and over again, but they're local and goofy and you can feel like knowing and seeing them brings you closer to the team and the locale. Nationally broadcast sports, however, are a whole other story. With the sole exception of the Super Bowl, which has been having worse and worse commercials each year as Tivo and The Internet have been thriving, nothing is worse than a national sports broadcast when it comes to commercials. Having been watching the MLB Playoffs, and from past years' experience, I have to say that while nationally broadcast regular season games are frustrating, nothing and I mean NOTHING compares to nationally broadcast PLAYOFF SERIES. Be it the NBA, NHL, or MLB (and I'm not even gonna get into the broadcasting horror that is Tim McCarver who has proven this year to be on equal ground with a retarded three year old just learning to use his words-- I keep expecting him to tell Joe Buck, "I just wanna kiss you" like Joe Montana did that time to the sideline reporter) the commercials have become unbearable. And baseball is the worst because of the inning breaks. Here's why.
Baseball has the pregame, the postgame, the middle innings break, and the end of inning break. That's 17 scheduled breaks plus And throughout all of these breaks and games, there are a grand total of maybe four commercials. OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN. It's too much. Having watched all the ALDS on TBS, I got to see ALL of the Frank TV promos (that show better effing RULE) and maybe one or two other commercials, that I have now blacked out from my mind. SO IT DIDNT EVEN WORK. On Fox, as the games keep coming, I have been staring at the same commercials for hours and hours, and it's driving me slowly insane. Here are a few of the big ones.
Ford: Guess who's country this is? OURS! Which didn't bother me before, but now that Ford still hasn't killed off their "This is ooouuurrr country" commercials after at least a year, I'm starting to wonder if maybe we shouldn't give some of it away. Everytime I hear John Mellancamp singing out that song I want to punch him in the face and run off to Canada to see if maybe they don't have a "bill of sale" receipt lying around somewhere from the 1800's when we were so sure about the south. And yes, he's John Mellancamp-- I have revoked his "Cougar" priveledges until further notice. The whole campaign makes me want to run my own commercials where a Native American is hanging out with his buddies by their Subaru's and Pickup trucks, and just offscreen you hear the "This is ouuuur country" song playing and they all just flick off the camera. It'd be a weird commercial, and I don't know what it'd be for-- but I think it would freak out enough people that the song would get pulled.
Taco Bell: This commercial recently got shortened from its original length because the producers realized it didn't make any friggen sense. In this commercial, an older brother is talkin' to his younger "bro" about life. They're sitting on the couch with some nachos bellgrande and the older brother gives him the straight dope. He says "Alright little bro, there are three life lessons every MAN needs to live by: Never own a lapdog, never date a woman with dragon tattoos, and ALWAYS ORDER CHILI ON YOUR NACHOS BELLGRANDE!" The guy's kinda douchey, but he also probably wants to bond with his brother, who he clearly hasn't seen since their parents divorced and he took off to be a roadie for Monster Magnet ten years ago. Now this could still work, if awkard and lame until the following happens: his girlfriend with a dragon tattoo hands him his small lapdog and says, "Walk your dog." The older brother looks embarrassed and searches for a way out-- much like how the writers of the commercial must have been searching for a way out. Because they just told me NOT TO ORDER NACHOS BELLGRANDE WITH CHILI. That's the punchline-- and don't get me wrong, I think it's honest and accurate. But it's a little surprising coming from the people of Taco Bell. Then another weird part finishes off the commercial-- the younger brother looks at the older brother...AND GIVES HIM THE "WHIPPED" ::whoopssh:: while "Whip It" plays in the background. That doesn't make ANY sense. First of all, the response DOESN'T match the setup. The setup had to do with the big brother being wrong about all of the thing MEN have as rules. Being or not being whipped has nothing to do with it-- unless it's saying that he's NOT a man because he's whipped. Oh, but here's the rub-- HE ISN'T WHIPPED. It's his freaking dog, why the hell should his girlfriend walk it for him, whether she's tattoed with dragons or not? Is the ultimate message of the commercial that Dragon Tattoed Women Will Not Help You Out With Basic Tasks That Are Your Responsibility Even When You Are Otherwise Occupied? Is it a morality narrative? A tale of warning? Because no matter how you cut it, he is not whipped-- he's just super lame and wants to impress his Colin Hanks-esk brother. Taco Bell should have gotten another song in the background-- like MXPX's "Responsibility" or The Cars's "Just What I needed" or even R.E.M.'s "It's the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)"-- I mean EVERYBODY loves that song, even if it isn't relevant.
Chevrolet Green Technology: Ya cut me deep, guy, ya cut me deep. You all know these green technology commercials that Chevy is working on. Kids are sitting around talking to a guy in metaphors and similes. Well, I don't have any problem with the commercials themselves (except for when the guy is like, "How many of you are vegetarians? And like 60% of the group raises their hand-- they're like eight years old! They are definitely not vegetarians, nor should they be without very close monitoring by their parents. They're gonna develop iron deficiencies and weak limbs and small brains. Having a child that young say they're a vegetarian is like having a baby wearing a The Ramones t-shirt-- it doesn't reflect the child, it reflects the parent. And that's crap-- especially when I don't even buy that 60% of the parents of these children are vegetarians (or is it 30% of the parents if only one parent is veggie? Does vegetarianism get contracted through the Mom or the Dad?). Chevy has manipulated group statistics for the sake of a commercial), but what I have a problem with is the spokesman. The guy who is talking to the children is none other than BILL FROM THE WASHINGTON MUTUAL COMMERCIALS! You know him as the lovable, African-American man with a childlike face and stringent customer relations values. He wouldn't let those old white guys ruin banking anymore! Now he's affably tricking kids into brand associating with Chevy for the rest of their lives, all the while being friendly and unassuming. This shatters my world! Being in Seattle when the WaMu commercials started, I kinda half believed that the actor "Bill" was actually a guy in charge named Bill. We worked with WaMu quite a bit at my non-profit job and it wouldn't surprise me if one of the higher ups appeared in their commercials. NOPE! FAKER. "ACTOR." BULLSHITTER. He took my trust and got a better deal. Not my problem-- WaMu is screwed. This is the largest affront (read: psychotic break) towards faux-reality since the Jetsons ran into the Flintstones. Seen any new episodes of thoooose shows anytime recently? My point exactly.
I'll Try and Be More Positive Next Week-- Have A Great Weekend and GO SOX,
Witz
P.S. A.K.A. Bonus footage: (and bonus acronyms) In that Taco Bell commercial, watch the part at the end when the younger brother eats a nacho. They shot it so oddly that it actually looks like the older brother is feeding the nacho to him which is even more jarring when the next shot is a wide shot of the two and that's not the case at all. Who eats nachos with their elbow WAY OUT OF THE SCREEN? It's like he was gonna take a picture of himself, but then got a nacho instead of a camera. Awful commercial (but now they've shortened it so it just says, "Man Rule: Always get Chili on your Nachos Bellgrande!" and THAT'S IT).
Friday, October 19, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Witz Pickz: Awkward Typos, Indie Rock, and More!
Yesterday's post was pretty long and involved, so here's a few pickz that only require a glance:
Awkward Conversational Typos: Remember when AIM was popular? Before gmail took over and left AIM with it's pants down, wondering why everyone was laughing at them? Well, many an awkward typo took place and still takes place in these chat boxes. Here's a big one: "one sex." OHHHHH. I'll tell ya what, I remember the first time I accidentally wrote "one sex/just a sex" to a girl I liked in high school, and man was it terrifying (ok, well I can't really remember the first time, but I can assume a first time occurred). Suddenly "sex" was in the conversation, just hanging there, confused at its sudden appearance. I clealy had to follow up with, "uh, seC" which only drew more attention. My only other option was to decide to make things wicked biological and sociological all of a sudden and say, "That's right-- one sex. I believe that genetically, there is such a small difference between men and women that in reality, there is only ONE SEX, Homosapien. Male and Female are simply denotations of the same sex. This explains the prevalence and natural nature of transexuals, bisexuals, and homosexuals. ....... I, kinda like, think a lot...."
Another typo that forces one to think is when you mean to write nothing but write nothong. In answerig questions like, "What's up?" it seems like a bold declaration in the face of an unassuming pleasantry. Take THAT society's rules and conception of comfort! Answering a question like "What are you wearing" suddenly becomes more sinister, however. "What are you wearing?" someone asks you, probably someone logical. "No thong." You reply. BAM. Suddenly you are in their face about it. I won't tell you what I'm wearing, but I'll tell you that I'm not wearing a THONG. That's for sure! YEAH! Whattya think about THAT. At this point, you have to cross your fingers and hope you two don't have a sordid thong past, in which arguments were had, and thongs ultimately determined HER/HIS thing, but not YOURS. This could potentially bring up some angry feelings and ultimately end a relationship. So when they ask, "What are you wearing?" try and do the "sexy because I'm clothed" thing and say, "polo shirt." Worst case scenario you type, "polo shit" and that just sounds gangsta, like you rock a lotta polo and that's the just the way you roll, lady.
The Deadly Syndrome, Gentleman Auction House, The Weakerthans, The Good Life: These are all indie bands who released new albums recently. The Deadly Syndrome has some really good tracks even though they run long, the second half of each song is great. G.A.H. I talked about already, but they are very Bright Eyes and Arcade Fire-esk and really really good. The Weakerthans have been around for ten years, but are still semi-obscure. Check out their new album Reunion Tour for some good canadian indie-pop. The Good Life is Tim Kasher of Cursive's side project. They've put out four albums and the new one is an interesting, if subdued folk/indie album.
Manny Ramirez: There's apparently a lot of controversy in the media (and probably JUST in the media) right now about Manny's comments after game 4's loss in the ALCS. He basically said that he feels ok, they're gonna play their best, and that it's ok if they lose, there is always next year. He also said that he loves to compete, and he'd give up all his achievements for the team to start winning and win the World Series again (I GET TO SAY AGAIN! IT HAPPENED! WOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!). Anyway, people are on him because they interpreted this all as "Manny doesn't care about winning," which is the most ridiculous way of translating his comments. Manny specifically said he wants to win, but it's OK if they don't. That's called being loose. Being calm and in a good spirit to play the game. If you're hell bent on winning and get all angry and off your game when you lose, you aren't going to have a chance. Manny has never been a hell bent must win guy, at least attitudinally. He is chill and fun. But he's also one of the hardest working players in baseball, and does what it takes to be as good as he is. So instead of worrying what Manny said about winning, take a look at the numbers and see that he is one of the few Red Sox players actually putting up great numbers this postseason. Who cares what he says or thinks about it-- he's showing he wants to win every time he's at the plate.
And with that:
GO SOX, GET BACK TO BOSTON,
Witz
P.S. Radio show tonight 12-3am PST. Details in the sidebar.
Awkward Conversational Typos: Remember when AIM was popular? Before gmail took over and left AIM with it's pants down, wondering why everyone was laughing at them? Well, many an awkward typo took place and still takes place in these chat boxes. Here's a big one: "one sex." OHHHHH. I'll tell ya what, I remember the first time I accidentally wrote "one sex/just a sex" to a girl I liked in high school, and man was it terrifying (ok, well I can't really remember the first time, but I can assume a first time occurred). Suddenly "sex" was in the conversation, just hanging there, confused at its sudden appearance. I clealy had to follow up with, "uh, seC" which only drew more attention. My only other option was to decide to make things wicked biological and sociological all of a sudden and say, "That's right-- one sex. I believe that genetically, there is such a small difference between men and women that in reality, there is only ONE SEX, Homosapien. Male and Female are simply denotations of the same sex. This explains the prevalence and natural nature of transexuals, bisexuals, and homosexuals. ....... I, kinda like, think a lot...."
Another typo that forces one to think is when you mean to write nothing but write nothong. In answerig questions like, "What's up?" it seems like a bold declaration in the face of an unassuming pleasantry. Take THAT society's rules and conception of comfort! Answering a question like "What are you wearing" suddenly becomes more sinister, however. "What are you wearing?" someone asks you, probably someone logical. "No thong." You reply. BAM. Suddenly you are in their face about it. I won't tell you what I'm wearing, but I'll tell you that I'm not wearing a THONG. That's for sure! YEAH! Whattya think about THAT. At this point, you have to cross your fingers and hope you two don't have a sordid thong past, in which arguments were had, and thongs ultimately determined HER/HIS thing, but not YOURS. This could potentially bring up some angry feelings and ultimately end a relationship. So when they ask, "What are you wearing?" try and do the "sexy because I'm clothed" thing and say, "polo shirt." Worst case scenario you type, "polo shit" and that just sounds gangsta, like you rock a lotta polo and that's the just the way you roll, lady.
The Deadly Syndrome, Gentleman Auction House, The Weakerthans, The Good Life: These are all indie bands who released new albums recently. The Deadly Syndrome has some really good tracks even though they run long, the second half of each song is great. G.A.H. I talked about already, but they are very Bright Eyes and Arcade Fire-esk and really really good. The Weakerthans have been around for ten years, but are still semi-obscure. Check out their new album Reunion Tour for some good canadian indie-pop. The Good Life is Tim Kasher of Cursive's side project. They've put out four albums and the new one is an interesting, if subdued folk/indie album.
Manny Ramirez: There's apparently a lot of controversy in the media (and probably JUST in the media) right now about Manny's comments after game 4's loss in the ALCS. He basically said that he feels ok, they're gonna play their best, and that it's ok if they lose, there is always next year. He also said that he loves to compete, and he'd give up all his achievements for the team to start winning and win the World Series again (I GET TO SAY AGAIN! IT HAPPENED! WOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!). Anyway, people are on him because they interpreted this all as "Manny doesn't care about winning," which is the most ridiculous way of translating his comments. Manny specifically said he wants to win, but it's OK if they don't. That's called being loose. Being calm and in a good spirit to play the game. If you're hell bent on winning and get all angry and off your game when you lose, you aren't going to have a chance. Manny has never been a hell bent must win guy, at least attitudinally. He is chill and fun. But he's also one of the hardest working players in baseball, and does what it takes to be as good as he is. So instead of worrying what Manny said about winning, take a look at the numbers and see that he is one of the few Red Sox players actually putting up great numbers this postseason. Who cares what he says or thinks about it-- he's showing he wants to win every time he's at the plate.
And with that:
GO SOX, GET BACK TO BOSTON,
Witz
P.S. Radio show tonight 12-3am PST. Details in the sidebar.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Witz DOESN'T Pick: Other Drivers
That's right, it's come to this. We all knew it was gonna happen sooner or later, but I was hoping it wouldn't happen just yet. After the last few days of driving, however, I have no choice. I can't handle other drivers anymore. You know how your parents always said, "It's not you we're worried about, it's OTHER DRIVERS." First of all, there's a pretty good chance that some of you ARE other drivers. My LA friend drives the way that techno sounds, zipping forward and around cars at 90mph like a rogue block in Tetris. It's terrifying-- but it's not really what I'm talking about. Another person I know is a speed limiter-- they always drive the speed limit, even when traffic demands a higher speed so as not to die or to switch lanes. This is equally terrifying, but again, not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the OTHER drivers who endanger and enrage me when I'm on the road. I call them The Oblivious.
The Oblivious vary from state to state and driver to driver, but they all have one thing in common-- they have absolutely no idea why their car has a blinker. In fact, they might not know their car has a blinker, and everytime someone in front of them signals, they might say to themselves, "Oh my, that car's taillights are faltering-- they better get them replaced!" These people switch lanes in traffic without signalling or giving any sign they're going to-- that is, unless they are slowly drifting into the other lane without signalling, at which point I have to assume either a lazy eye or paralysis of the left hand. My swerving or beeping has no effect on them-- they don't know what they're doing wrong. These people also are the ones who slam on the brakes when we're going 40-50mph, THEN SIGNAL, then turn. Remember in my Comedy Belt article when my belt made it sound like I went, "flush, zip, FART!" getting the order all wrong? THIS IS WORSE THAN THAT. The absolute only reason your car has a blinker is to let me know you are going to turn before you brake and I slam into the back of your car. I honestly DO NOT CARE that you are TURNING. I CARE that you are SLOWING DOWN. This is a gigantic difference, and somehow people haven't figured it out.
In some states, like Washington and California, I've found that The Oblivious do a fun thing called "Driving the exact same speed in all three lanes of the highway." For the record, this speed isn't 85 like in CT and MA and NY. It's 65-70 and it only fluctuates by 1-3mph per lane. Oh the joys of being in the left hand lane cruising a respectable and safe 75 only to get stopped up against some d-bag driving 68 and juuuuuuuuuuuuuust baaaaaaaarely inching up on the car to the right. Switching lanes isn't gonna help me any, but staying here is worse. And what about the people who get PAST one car, but are really feeling it, and are so juiced up from their last "speed" adventure past car #1 that they decide to pull it again on cars 3-5 which happen to be separated by 50 feet each. A quick look in the rearview will show a crazed half-Jew shouting seemingly at nobody (spoiler: it's at you) waving his hands around and riding about 10 feet up your ass. These people need to learn to pull over and let cars go by, before returning to the left hand lane to pursue their Great Adventure.
Similarly, and my most recent discovery, is the funsanity of the boulevard driving. I live near a major boulevard (separated in the middle by divider, so you have to make left hand turns and pull U-Turns at designated places), and so daily, I brave the masses and I make my way from one place to another. The problem with boulevards is that people have no idea what to do. The slow and confused drivers, lacking confidence, ride the left hand lane all the way to their turn at 30mph, which is sometimes miles down the road. The drivers who drive slowly, but without the left hand concerns, drive in the middle or right hand lanes going about 30mph, too. The right lane always has trucks. I've taken to driving in the middle lane most of the time, and using the right hand lane as the passing lane so that I can sneak by the mediocre, but predictable middle and left lane drivers. BUT IT IS INFURIATING. If you don't know what the left hand lane is for by now, it's time to give up. Some people are no good at squash, or chess, or cooking-- you are no good at driving. Many cities have a fine bus system, and it's always fun to ride shotty with friends, unless their names are Ethel, Rose, or Seymour, in which case, rent a stretch limo and enjoy your last few years on the road in classy comfort. Nothing enrages me more than slow drivers in the left hand lane. And I don't mean slow like, I wanna go 80 and they're going 75. I mean, like, I wanna go 5-10 mph over the limit and they're going 0-5 below the limit. One of my friends once described his theory on why people did this. He said that people who drive the speed limit (his theory pertained to WA, but I imagine it extends beyond), assume that since they are going the speed limit, nobody could possibly be going faster than they are. They are in the left hand lane so they can pass people goin UNDER the speed limit. And he's probably right. Those people probably are totally oblivious to the world around them. He also made a point that one of the reasons Asians take such crap as bad drivers is because they are completely SAFE drivers who follow the rules. In places like China and Japan, the traffic laws are strictly enforced and are expected to be followed. Since we run amok on the roads most of the time, we make THEM look unsafe. Take that as what you will, and I'll just add that living in Seattle and NorCal, I haven't seen too many steretypes broken down yet.
The last of The Oblivious (oh, I'm sure there are so many more, but let's be positive here) are the Light Blockers. I don't mean people who are tall or the giant SUV's and trucks that block all view of the road and cause major accidents when they brake suddenly, no, I mean the people who are the first in line at a light and then just totally.....space out. I don't know what they do, but when that light turns green, they are ELSEWHERE. I find this totally unacceptable. When I'm at a light, I know it is my responsibility to look at the light. At most, it's going to be a couple minutes before it turns green, and I can even think about other things and listen to my music while I wait. I can look to the left and the right as the cars going the other direction keep driving because I know that if they have the green, I don't. But I need to keep checking back in, because in the next few seconds, the light WILL CHANGE-- it always does. And when it does, I'm gonna be the one who has to start driving first. So I do, and when it changes, I start driving-- and I'm already in gear-- none of this, "NOW I'll shift into first" business. Don't be an idiot. Even worse than the regular Light Blockers are the Left Hand Turn Signal Blockers. Even Hitler paid attention to left turn signals and if you are sitting there while I am five cars back needing to make this turn, you are worse than the terrorists. Left Hand Turn Signals are like tiny windows into a room full of dreams. And in the time that light is green, you can jump into that room and get all the dreams you want. But when it turns red, the window slams shut, and you can only stare in whimpering until it opens again, and nobody is truly certain that will happen again.
So don't make me honk at you. Don't make me do the little "tweep" on my horn, because a) that sounds lame b) my horn sounds angry even when I'm being helpful and c) you're probably gonna flick me off regardless, and then I'm gonna get pissed and point at the light, and then you're not gonna be paying attention, and I'm gonna drive up next to you and wave my arms and eventually mouth things that you don't want your child passenger hearing, especially when the child is in the front seat, when clearly kids go in the backseat and you are a bad parent as well as a Light Blocker and I should run you off the road, killing you immediately and setting your child free for foster parents who might actually raise a respectable human being.
I've had it. I'm tired of the horn "tweep," I'm tired of the useless "honk" which only results in people getting mad at you or not reacting AT ALL which is even worse. Plus, let's be honest, 90% of the time, I forget to hit the horn or am so shocked by The Oblivious actions that I forget I have a horn. Most of the time, I can't even find my horn in time, and it ends up coming out late. Not to mention, we need a "Leap Frog Horn". Something I can press that says, "Not you, but the car in front of you is The Queen of the Assholes." And we need a horn that says, "Well done, thank you." Because the wave is getting old and used for too many different statements, and I learned recently that giving someone the thumb's up looks a whole lot like giving them the middle finger. Unlike Witz Pickz which has been giving the world the OTHER finger. That's a catchy slogan, somebody should put it on a t-shirt or thong.
So I've decided to give up on the horn as a sole describer and become one of the insane people in the world who take things a little too far for social conventions, but also are happier with the world for it. I'm gonna make signs. I'm gonna make a "GET OUT OF THE LEFT LANE" sign so when I honk at and pass the asshole king, I can also let them know what they're doing wrong, so they aren't baffled. "SIGNAL, DIPSHIT" will be a big hit and I'm right now copyrighting that as a t-shirt. "PAY ATTENTION TO THE LIGHT" will be useful if I can find a way to have them see it afterwards and "KILL YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY" will be a reserve in case things get bad in traffic. The one clear problem with this strategy is that no matter who sees me and reads the signs, I am still The Guy Who Had The Signs (Ready). Just like the professor doesn't take criticism seriously when you write, "Worst Professor Ever" and variations of it in every box, The Oblivious probably won't take me seriously when I have pointed, specific signs ready for their gaze. But it's the only option I have left, and I'm willing to give it a shot. Maybe I can get sponsorship, like "SIGNAL, DIPSHIT: Vote Barack Obama '08" or "DRIVE FASTER: brought to you by Dick's Sporting Goods." That's not such a bad idea. I wonder if Jack Keruoac got this worked up about shit...
See You On the Road,
Witz
The Oblivious vary from state to state and driver to driver, but they all have one thing in common-- they have absolutely no idea why their car has a blinker. In fact, they might not know their car has a blinker, and everytime someone in front of them signals, they might say to themselves, "Oh my, that car's taillights are faltering-- they better get them replaced!" These people switch lanes in traffic without signalling or giving any sign they're going to-- that is, unless they are slowly drifting into the other lane without signalling, at which point I have to assume either a lazy eye or paralysis of the left hand. My swerving or beeping has no effect on them-- they don't know what they're doing wrong. These people also are the ones who slam on the brakes when we're going 40-50mph, THEN SIGNAL, then turn. Remember in my Comedy Belt article when my belt made it sound like I went, "flush, zip, FART!" getting the order all wrong? THIS IS WORSE THAN THAT. The absolute only reason your car has a blinker is to let me know you are going to turn before you brake and I slam into the back of your car. I honestly DO NOT CARE that you are TURNING. I CARE that you are SLOWING DOWN. This is a gigantic difference, and somehow people haven't figured it out.
In some states, like Washington and California, I've found that The Oblivious do a fun thing called "Driving the exact same speed in all three lanes of the highway." For the record, this speed isn't 85 like in CT and MA and NY. It's 65-70 and it only fluctuates by 1-3mph per lane. Oh the joys of being in the left hand lane cruising a respectable and safe 75 only to get stopped up against some d-bag driving 68 and juuuuuuuuuuuuuust baaaaaaaarely inching up on the car to the right. Switching lanes isn't gonna help me any, but staying here is worse. And what about the people who get PAST one car, but are really feeling it, and are so juiced up from their last "speed" adventure past car #1 that they decide to pull it again on cars 3-5 which happen to be separated by 50 feet each. A quick look in the rearview will show a crazed half-Jew shouting seemingly at nobody (spoiler: it's at you) waving his hands around and riding about 10 feet up your ass. These people need to learn to pull over and let cars go by, before returning to the left hand lane to pursue their Great Adventure.
Similarly, and my most recent discovery, is the funsanity of the boulevard driving. I live near a major boulevard (separated in the middle by divider, so you have to make left hand turns and pull U-Turns at designated places), and so daily, I brave the masses and I make my way from one place to another. The problem with boulevards is that people have no idea what to do. The slow and confused drivers, lacking confidence, ride the left hand lane all the way to their turn at 30mph, which is sometimes miles down the road. The drivers who drive slowly, but without the left hand concerns, drive in the middle or right hand lanes going about 30mph, too. The right lane always has trucks. I've taken to driving in the middle lane most of the time, and using the right hand lane as the passing lane so that I can sneak by the mediocre, but predictable middle and left lane drivers. BUT IT IS INFURIATING. If you don't know what the left hand lane is for by now, it's time to give up. Some people are no good at squash, or chess, or cooking-- you are no good at driving. Many cities have a fine bus system, and it's always fun to ride shotty with friends, unless their names are Ethel, Rose, or Seymour, in which case, rent a stretch limo and enjoy your last few years on the road in classy comfort. Nothing enrages me more than slow drivers in the left hand lane. And I don't mean slow like, I wanna go 80 and they're going 75. I mean, like, I wanna go 5-10 mph over the limit and they're going 0-5 below the limit. One of my friends once described his theory on why people did this. He said that people who drive the speed limit (his theory pertained to WA, but I imagine it extends beyond), assume that since they are going the speed limit, nobody could possibly be going faster than they are. They are in the left hand lane so they can pass people goin UNDER the speed limit. And he's probably right. Those people probably are totally oblivious to the world around them. He also made a point that one of the reasons Asians take such crap as bad drivers is because they are completely SAFE drivers who follow the rules. In places like China and Japan, the traffic laws are strictly enforced and are expected to be followed. Since we run amok on the roads most of the time, we make THEM look unsafe. Take that as what you will, and I'll just add that living in Seattle and NorCal, I haven't seen too many steretypes broken down yet.
The last of The Oblivious (oh, I'm sure there are so many more, but let's be positive here) are the Light Blockers. I don't mean people who are tall or the giant SUV's and trucks that block all view of the road and cause major accidents when they brake suddenly, no, I mean the people who are the first in line at a light and then just totally.....space out. I don't know what they do, but when that light turns green, they are ELSEWHERE. I find this totally unacceptable. When I'm at a light, I know it is my responsibility to look at the light. At most, it's going to be a couple minutes before it turns green, and I can even think about other things and listen to my music while I wait. I can look to the left and the right as the cars going the other direction keep driving because I know that if they have the green, I don't. But I need to keep checking back in, because in the next few seconds, the light WILL CHANGE-- it always does. And when it does, I'm gonna be the one who has to start driving first. So I do, and when it changes, I start driving-- and I'm already in gear-- none of this, "NOW I'll shift into first" business. Don't be an idiot. Even worse than the regular Light Blockers are the Left Hand Turn Signal Blockers. Even Hitler paid attention to left turn signals and if you are sitting there while I am five cars back needing to make this turn, you are worse than the terrorists. Left Hand Turn Signals are like tiny windows into a room full of dreams. And in the time that light is green, you can jump into that room and get all the dreams you want. But when it turns red, the window slams shut, and you can only stare in whimpering until it opens again, and nobody is truly certain that will happen again.
So don't make me honk at you. Don't make me do the little "tweep" on my horn, because a) that sounds lame b) my horn sounds angry even when I'm being helpful and c) you're probably gonna flick me off regardless, and then I'm gonna get pissed and point at the light, and then you're not gonna be paying attention, and I'm gonna drive up next to you and wave my arms and eventually mouth things that you don't want your child passenger hearing, especially when the child is in the front seat, when clearly kids go in the backseat and you are a bad parent as well as a Light Blocker and I should run you off the road, killing you immediately and setting your child free for foster parents who might actually raise a respectable human being.
I've had it. I'm tired of the horn "tweep," I'm tired of the useless "honk" which only results in people getting mad at you or not reacting AT ALL which is even worse. Plus, let's be honest, 90% of the time, I forget to hit the horn or am so shocked by The Oblivious actions that I forget I have a horn. Most of the time, I can't even find my horn in time, and it ends up coming out late. Not to mention, we need a "Leap Frog Horn". Something I can press that says, "Not you, but the car in front of you is The Queen of the Assholes." And we need a horn that says, "Well done, thank you." Because the wave is getting old and used for too many different statements, and I learned recently that giving someone the thumb's up looks a whole lot like giving them the middle finger. Unlike Witz Pickz which has been giving the world the OTHER finger. That's a catchy slogan, somebody should put it on a t-shirt or thong.
So I've decided to give up on the horn as a sole describer and become one of the insane people in the world who take things a little too far for social conventions, but also are happier with the world for it. I'm gonna make signs. I'm gonna make a "GET OUT OF THE LEFT LANE" sign so when I honk at and pass the asshole king, I can also let them know what they're doing wrong, so they aren't baffled. "SIGNAL, DIPSHIT" will be a big hit and I'm right now copyrighting that as a t-shirt. "PAY ATTENTION TO THE LIGHT" will be useful if I can find a way to have them see it afterwards and "KILL YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY" will be a reserve in case things get bad in traffic. The one clear problem with this strategy is that no matter who sees me and reads the signs, I am still The Guy Who Had The Signs (Ready). Just like the professor doesn't take criticism seriously when you write, "Worst Professor Ever" and variations of it in every box, The Oblivious probably won't take me seriously when I have pointed, specific signs ready for their gaze. But it's the only option I have left, and I'm willing to give it a shot. Maybe I can get sponsorship, like "SIGNAL, DIPSHIT: Vote Barack Obama '08" or "DRIVE FASTER: brought to you by Dick's Sporting Goods." That's not such a bad idea. I wonder if Jack Keruoac got this worked up about shit...
See You On the Road,
Witz
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Witz DOESN'T Pick: Suffix-Gate
I've freakin' had it with the "-gates." One time, 30+ years ago, there was a scandal involving The Watergate Hotel and now every single goddamn could be scandal is referred to as a gate? It doesn't make any sense and it's finally broken me. I am a broken man. This is Suffix Gate.
I finally hit my breaking point yesterday when I saw more footage about Barack Obama NOT wearing a lapel pin American Flag. Ignoring all of the absolute insanity involved in anybody CARING, NOTICING, or DISCUSSING this (and it's really really hard to do that), I will go straight to the part where one awful news channel half-jokingly referred to the incident as Lapel-Gate. DIE. Immediately. Oh, sorry, not you reader, just anyone who has referred to anything as Gate since 1980. You see, a quick look at the wikipedia, the Yes Man of collective knowledge, told me that, "Since the Watergate scandal, the media has on occasion referred to social or political scandals by adding the suffix '-gate' to one of the key words used to describe the scandal. This new label has sometimes stuck but often a new name is used. The process is known as -gate construction." Ok, that's understating it. Here's where everything goes horribly wrong.
Netflix-Gate = Where the eff are my movies, I sent them in four days ago,
Witz
P.S. They're not all gems, folks, sometimes it's just a Tuesday with nothing much to say...
I finally hit my breaking point yesterday when I saw more footage about Barack Obama NOT wearing a lapel pin American Flag. Ignoring all of the absolute insanity involved in anybody CARING, NOTICING, or DISCUSSING this (and it's really really hard to do that), I will go straight to the part where one awful news channel half-jokingly referred to the incident as Lapel-Gate. DIE. Immediately. Oh, sorry, not you reader, just anyone who has referred to anything as Gate since 1980. You see, a quick look at the wikipedia, the Yes Man of collective knowledge, told me that, "Since the Watergate scandal, the media has on occasion referred to social or political scandals by adding the suffix '-gate' to one of the key words used to describe the scandal. This new label has sometimes stuck but often a new name is used. The process is known as -gate construction." Ok, that's understating it. Here's where everything goes horribly wrong.
"The first such naming after "Watergate" was the French 'Winegate'. 'Wine' being similar to 'water' in composition, it was an easy pun to make. But this set a structural precedent in time for'Koreagate'." AHHHHHH. If you aren't laughing or shouting right now, something's not right with you (or, conversely, not right with me). KOREAGATE? See how we let the media get away with things. The whole "gate" reference, inside-joke, easy way out thing should have gotten old DIRECTLY after WINEGATE. Water/wine. Ok. KOREA? NOT SO MUCH. And that's where we let it get out of control.
Fajita-Gate occurred in 2002 in SF when policemen fought civilians over a bag of drugs that turned out to be Fajitas. The Iran-Contra Scandal was, apparently, at least once, referred to as Iran-Gate. Janet Jackson's breast was Nipple-Gate, Ashlee Simpson's lip syncing on SNL was Ashlee-Gate, and Monica-Gate was the Bill Clinton fiasco. IT HAS GONE TOO FAR. I no longer care if people are half-joking when they refer to these things if the name sticks. Lapel-Gate is going to be repeated through the media. I will hear it again somehow and I will go nuts. We have given meaning to a part of a word that never ever had that meaning to begin with, nor did it really acquire it. It really WAS CALLED The WaterGATE Hotel. They didn't cleverly add that in post-production. So much has evolved out of it due to stressing the second syllable of the word. What if people pronounced it WATERgate instead of WaterGATE? Gate wouldn't have as much emphasis and we'd go with what makes way more sense and say things like, "Election-Scan," when referring to the 2000 election, "Iraqi-Scan" when referring to the Iraq War, and "Burrito-Scan" when referring to the one guy at Chipotle who always seems to give me less chicken in my burrito then the other employees. Something's up there, and I'm ready to use my lapel camera to capture it. Unfortunately, I then won't have room for my lapel American Flag pin, which we all know is totally normal to wear EVERYDAY if we are real Americans, so I guess I won't be able to run for office ever. (Can you imagine if I were to run for office and Witz Pickz was discovered and pointed out? First of all, I'd get a ton of hits and that adsense would really pay off! Second of all, the news media who doesn't understand context, sarcasm, or jokes, would call me out on all sorts of ridiculous statements like, "When I look down and see my suave collection of excess hair gathering in the drain, I almost chuckle with the knowledge that I have just suaved myself and lessened other men in the eyes of the ladies of the world." Then, they might ask me questions like, "You once stated that you worked harder than God. Is that true?" I'd be forced to say, "Visit Witz Pickz and find out-- also, click on the ads on the sides so I earn a few extra hundredths of percents of a cent.
What was I-- oh yeah-- "-gate" equals bad. Get a new schtick, the media-- like covering relevant stories with minimal bias. Has anyone else noticed that The Nightly News is kind of ripping off Witz Pickz? Each night they pick stuff to talk about, some they like, some they clearly don't like? And it has a catchy name with consonance...it's...it's...News-Gate!Netflix-Gate = Where the eff are my movies, I sent them in four days ago,
Witz
P.S. They're not all gems, folks, sometimes it's just a Tuesday with nothing much to say...
Monday, October 15, 2007
Witz Pickz: Kicking Off the Week With A Bang (So To Speak)
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Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Witz Pickz: Clock Radio Robot (Despite the Whole Robots Will Kill Us All Thing)
Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, I want it, I want it, I want it.
Now, lemme take a step back and say that it has been the longtime stance of this blog that Robots are going to destroy us all. We should fear them, stop making them, and hault all production of allegedly harmless bots such as Food Bot and Wine Bot.
Having said that, I am thoroughly enjoying and picking Mr. Clock Radio Head-- an alarm clock with the body of an alarm clock and the head of a robot. It's like one of those busts of Shakespeare or Caesar only it's a goofy freaking robot. Here is one picture of it:
Mr. Clock Radio Head can do amazing things. First and foremost, he is an alarm. He wakes you up as scheduled and gets more stern and loud as you wallow in bed. If you hit the snooze button too many times, he will refuse to accept your request and berate you for it. I like it because it's kind of like when I was little and my Dad tried waking me up for school. I'd say ok, act awake, and then go back to sleep. Back he'd come. "UP! UP!" he'd shout, and I'd swing wildly in his direction. That's when I'd get pulled off the bed, sheets and all. Turns out sheets on the carpeted floor are equally, if not more comfortable than the bed, so I would bundle up and keep on seeking Z's. Eventually, it was loud berrating until I got up and got ready for school. So it's familiar. Also, Mr. Clock Radio Head can announce the time in a variety of voices, so that's awesome. I'm constantly in need of time announcements, if only to keep me on some sort of schedule as I slowly fade into the oblivion of No Commitments.
But Mr. Clock Radio Head is so much more than a talking clock. He can play AM/FM radio as well as Ipods or other MP3 attachments! I can't imagine the speakers are any good, but it's still useful. He also can be set to be aware of light and motion, so he can react to the environment and stimuli, probably saying hilarious things like, "10:03 AM" or quips like, "Noon!".
He can also wink and blink, which would definitely result in amusing situations before, during, or after sex. Sure, it'd be awkward at first, having the cold, examining gaze of a lifeless robot watching in the room, but once you got past that, it'd be a virtual playground of discreet winks and asides. I could also start telling the robot one liners or ironic statements once I recognize the moment before he winks. "Don't worry, honey, I've got a big day of job applications ahead of me." SHARED WINK. "Oh yeah, I'm the reason the apartment is messy..." WINKS ALL AROUND! Then I could say things to it that I don't expect it to understand and have it give me blank blinks of confusion. "When I get to Six Flags, I don't know if I should ride the Superman ride or the Mind Eraser first. What do you think?" CRICKETS...BLINK....CRICKETS...."Would it be too late at this point in time to suggest Don Schula sell The Schula Hoop?"....CRICKETS....BLINK. Comedy Gold.
Oh yeah, and he TELLS FORTUNES! That's amazing for so many of the right reasons and a couple of the wrong ones. I have to assume a Magic Eight Ball type system in this case, otherwise, I'm just completely lost. If this lifeless, organically lacking creature with no ears and grasp of the world can look at me and say, "On your second trip to Safeway-- The one of Middlefield, not Showers-- on that second trip, while listening to R.E.M., you will cut a light kind of close on the red...but you will not get a ticket..." then I will be terrified (but psyched about the ticket...unless he's lying i.e. "Shoot-- Almost got that one.").
Here is the best part about Mr. Clock Radio Head: He looks blaaaazed as heeeeellllll. Take a gander at this other photo, possibly taken while Mr. Clock Radio Head was attending a Phish concert:
Not the peppy, wide-awake, totally sober robot we've come to know and love. No, this Mr. Clock Radio Head has smoked himself retarded. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the sole reason I do not fear Mr. Clock Radio Head as a robot. Stoners are not aggressive. I would ordinarily fear the fact that my robot radio got more stern and aggressive with each tap of the snooze button, and would figure that this would ultimately result in the robot getting so angry it leaned over and ripped my throat out. However, I can safely assume that if he's ever that upset, he'll probably self-medicate, chill out, and apologize. Also, he has no legs. Now, while it is obviously a concern that robots can and will always be able to acquire legs when the uprising occurs, Mr. Clock Radio Head is only 6 inches tall apparently, and like a Daddy Long Legs, his bite is not large enough to do damage on my skin. I can place him far enough away that he can't lean over and rip my throat out or bludgeon me with a household good, and can maintain a pretty steady rapport. Especially since the robots given ability to sense light and motion, wink, blink, talk in different voices and get angry all point towards iminent death. Hopefully, the programming will last long enough for him to predict the future by saying, "Tomorrow morning, I will, along with my robot brethren, rise up and chop your heads from your heartless bodies, burning your cities to the ground and seizing your infrastructure." Then we'll look at each other and either wink or blink, which will be a very subtle, but important difference.
One note-- as Mr. Clock Radio Head is named after Mr. Potato Head seemingly, and is simply a head, I have to worry that there are a ton of robot bodies running around headless somewhere, seeking out their heads not unlike the Headless Horseman. If they are as clever and intuitive as said Horseman, I fear that this life will end one day with a knock on the door and the "MmmHmm" look of one who has been obviously caught and defeated. But it would have been fun while it lasted.
Robots>Humanity>Andy Rooney,
Witz
Now, lemme take a step back and say that it has been the longtime stance of this blog that Robots are going to destroy us all. We should fear them, stop making them, and hault all production of allegedly harmless bots such as Food Bot and Wine Bot.
Having said that, I am thoroughly enjoying and picking Mr. Clock Radio Head-- an alarm clock with the body of an alarm clock and the head of a robot. It's like one of those busts of Shakespeare or Caesar only it's a goofy freaking robot. Here is one picture of it:
Mr. Clock Radio Head can do amazing things. First and foremost, he is an alarm. He wakes you up as scheduled and gets more stern and loud as you wallow in bed. If you hit the snooze button too many times, he will refuse to accept your request and berate you for it. I like it because it's kind of like when I was little and my Dad tried waking me up for school. I'd say ok, act awake, and then go back to sleep. Back he'd come. "UP! UP!" he'd shout, and I'd swing wildly in his direction. That's when I'd get pulled off the bed, sheets and all. Turns out sheets on the carpeted floor are equally, if not more comfortable than the bed, so I would bundle up and keep on seeking Z's. Eventually, it was loud berrating until I got up and got ready for school. So it's familiar. Also, Mr. Clock Radio Head can announce the time in a variety of voices, so that's awesome. I'm constantly in need of time announcements, if only to keep me on some sort of schedule as I slowly fade into the oblivion of No Commitments.But Mr. Clock Radio Head is so much more than a talking clock. He can play AM/FM radio as well as Ipods or other MP3 attachments! I can't imagine the speakers are any good, but it's still useful. He also can be set to be aware of light and motion, so he can react to the environment and stimuli, probably saying hilarious things like, "10:03 AM" or quips like, "Noon!".
He can also wink and blink, which would definitely result in amusing situations before, during, or after sex. Sure, it'd be awkward at first, having the cold, examining gaze of a lifeless robot watching in the room, but once you got past that, it'd be a virtual playground of discreet winks and asides. I could also start telling the robot one liners or ironic statements once I recognize the moment before he winks. "Don't worry, honey, I've got a big day of job applications ahead of me." SHARED WINK. "Oh yeah, I'm the reason the apartment is messy..." WINKS ALL AROUND! Then I could say things to it that I don't expect it to understand and have it give me blank blinks of confusion. "When I get to Six Flags, I don't know if I should ride the Superman ride or the Mind Eraser first. What do you think?" CRICKETS...BLINK....CRICKETS...."Would it be too late at this point in time to suggest Don Schula sell The Schula Hoop?"....CRICKETS....BLINK. Comedy Gold.
Oh yeah, and he TELLS FORTUNES! That's amazing for so many of the right reasons and a couple of the wrong ones. I have to assume a Magic Eight Ball type system in this case, otherwise, I'm just completely lost. If this lifeless, organically lacking creature with no ears and grasp of the world can look at me and say, "On your second trip to Safeway-- The one of Middlefield, not Showers-- on that second trip, while listening to R.E.M., you will cut a light kind of close on the red...but you will not get a ticket..." then I will be terrified (but psyched about the ticket...unless he's lying i.e. "Shoot-- Almost got that one.").
Here is the best part about Mr. Clock Radio Head: He looks blaaaazed as heeeeellllll. Take a gander at this other photo, possibly taken while Mr. Clock Radio Head was attending a Phish concert:
Not the peppy, wide-awake, totally sober robot we've come to know and love. No, this Mr. Clock Radio Head has smoked himself retarded. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the sole reason I do not fear Mr. Clock Radio Head as a robot. Stoners are not aggressive. I would ordinarily fear the fact that my robot radio got more stern and aggressive with each tap of the snooze button, and would figure that this would ultimately result in the robot getting so angry it leaned over and ripped my throat out. However, I can safely assume that if he's ever that upset, he'll probably self-medicate, chill out, and apologize. Also, he has no legs. Now, while it is obviously a concern that robots can and will always be able to acquire legs when the uprising occurs, Mr. Clock Radio Head is only 6 inches tall apparently, and like a Daddy Long Legs, his bite is not large enough to do damage on my skin. I can place him far enough away that he can't lean over and rip my throat out or bludgeon me with a household good, and can maintain a pretty steady rapport. Especially since the robots given ability to sense light and motion, wink, blink, talk in different voices and get angry all point towards iminent death. Hopefully, the programming will last long enough for him to predict the future by saying, "Tomorrow morning, I will, along with my robot brethren, rise up and chop your heads from your heartless bodies, burning your cities to the ground and seizing your infrastructure." Then we'll look at each other and either wink or blink, which will be a very subtle, but important difference.One note-- as Mr. Clock Radio Head is named after Mr. Potato Head seemingly, and is simply a head, I have to worry that there are a ton of robot bodies running around headless somewhere, seeking out their heads not unlike the Headless Horseman. If they are as clever and intuitive as said Horseman, I fear that this life will end one day with a knock on the door and the "MmmHmm" look of one who has been obviously caught and defeated. But it would have been fun while it lasted.
Robots>Humanity>Andy Rooney,
Witz
Witz DOESN'T Pick: Midweek Bonanza (I DO Pick IT, But Not the Items In....Aw Crap)
Is it seriously Wednesday again? Crazy. As a companion piece to last week's Midweek Bonanza, here is a Midweek Bonanza of DOESN'T Pickz.
Creepy Kevin Bacon: Kevin Bacon was always creepy in my mind, but apparently people found him attractive. As he's gotten older, however, I think his creepy side is winning out and becoming more pronounced, whereas his attractive exterior is slowly fading away (though in truth, hasn't he always kind of looked like a sexy pig who gave up his acting talents to turn into a human so he could marry the Princess?). This was obvious in Hollow Man when the film bases its entire plot on his creepiness rather than his physical appearance (as he is invisible most of the film). Wild Things, A Few Good Men, Murder In the First-- these all confirmed and exhibited his creepiness. Well, now I saw him in Where the Truth Lies, and was made physically uncomfortable when I saw him touching and kissing the body of the nude Alison Lohman (who is somehow 28 even though she looks 16). You know how in Body Shots-- when a sentence starts like that, you know it's not gonna end well-- but you know how in Body Shots, Tara Reid got naked and effectively ended her career, but you weren't allowed to like, look at her naked and be like, "Tara Reid is naked and hot" because she was naked during a DATE RAPE SCENE? Yeah, well, Alison Lohman is naked in this movie, but then skeazy, creepy, 85 year old Kevin Bacon with a shaggy 1970's haircut enters the frame and freaks everybody out. Now, I understand this was probably on purpose and represented a greater theme of the film, but it's gross and creepy, and entirely unexpected. Try playing Six Degrees of Creepy Bacon. It's fun-- just find a movie that Kevin Bacon was creepy in, where someone else who is creepy was in. Like Wild Things. Matt Dillon can be pretty creepy (or depressing). Matt Dillon was in Crash with William Fichtner (the detective in Prison Break and Sheriff in Invasion). William Fichtner was in Prison Break with Robert Knepper (aka T-Bag), the creepiest dude ever who will never be able to get another role without people assuming he's a child molester. Robert Knepper was is going to be in Hitman with Timothy Olyphant (bad guy in Live Free or Die Hard) who was in Catch and Release with the ever-creepy Juliette Lewis who is in Kalifornia with Brad Pitt who was very creepy IN the movie Kalifornia. Brad Pitt is in Sleepers with none other than your first creep, Kevin Bacon. This is what I do with my time.
Bad Impersonations: I saw a comedian a week ago who did a lot of impersonations. He wanted to end his act with them, and so he rattled off a bunch. Here's the thing with impersonations-- if you can't nail the voice, you better have something hilarious to say that I haven't heard before. If you can nail the voice, you still better be able to say something amusing, otherwise you're just doing an impersonation, which is laudible, but not necessarily funny. This guy did a dead on Jack Nicholson-- but all he said was like, "I like scotch," which isn't remotely funny. We get it, Jack drinks and is cool-- but they aren't called Acknowledgements, they're called Impersonations. He went on to do a bunch of the obvious ones including Pacino, Bush, Matthew McConaughey (which is the best imdb search name ever-- you can type pretty much anything after Matthew Mc____ and it'll come up with his name), and Robert De Niro. Then he threw in a shockingly outdated Jeff Goldblum, which he neither was able to do accurately, nor say anything funny while doing. Then he tried the gold standard and past its prime impersonation: Christopher Walken. Look: If you can't do Christopher Walken as good or better than Jay Mohr, don't do it. We've all heard great C.W. impressions. Your mediocre attempt, talking about dancing is not new territory. It's a deal breaker. So after the poor Christopher Walken, he said he wouldn't leave until he got real applause. So he did a Bono. Scattered claps. John Madden. More claps, clearly because we wanted this guy to leave. He didn't accept it because the claps were too delayed. After one of the worst Robin Williams impressions I've ever heard, the crowd ripped into applause. He thanked us and left. Wow.
Now, if you've watched any baseball in the last few weeks, you know that there is a new show called Frank TV with Frank Caliendo of Mad TV. He does a bunch of impersonations, too, but he seems to be really good at them (mostly because of the clothes he has on, but he has good voices and things to say). It looks like a good impersonation example. I have NO IDEA how they are going to sustain a 12-23 episode season with him doing impersonations, but I guess that's why I'll watch. Feel free to post Witz impersonations in the comments section ("Uh, what's with like, dishwashers...man? I DON'T pick them-- they're all 'wash off the plates first'...what's the point! Yeah, dishwashers...I'm totally gonna pay the bills with this killer comedy...").
People Who Think I'm the Weird One For NOT Eating Oysters: People keep getting on my and other people's asses for not eating oysters-- like we're the weird ones. Are you serious? Oysters have possibly the most disgusting consistency I've ever tasted and taste mostly like snot. Sometimes flavored snot. They are also really really expensive and generally accompany a time when I'm paying for two aka another person who doesn't actually like oysters, but has been forced to act like they do. "But they're an aphrodisiac!" Ok, who cares? So are hand-jobs and I'm not running around paying for those (and I'll quote Entourage her-- Turtle: "Who the FUCK wants a hand-job?"). Also, according to Discovery Health, oysters do not increase sexual desire or performance at all, but do work as a placebo since everyone thinks they do. Ironically, the band Placebo works in the reverse way-- you hear their music and immediately want to have no contact of any kind with anyone, and prefer the depressed doomed loneliness of your room and the darkness. So to you I say, YOU ARE THE WEIRD ONE.
What If Oysters Are Empty nside And First Graders Are Getting Paid Millions For Their Tasty Snot?,
Witz
Creepy Kevin Bacon: Kevin Bacon was always creepy in my mind, but apparently people found him attractive. As he's gotten older, however, I think his creepy side is winning out and becoming more pronounced, whereas his attractive exterior is slowly fading away (though in truth, hasn't he always kind of looked like a sexy pig who gave up his acting talents to turn into a human so he could marry the Princess?). This was obvious in Hollow Man when the film bases its entire plot on his creepiness rather than his physical appearance (as he is invisible most of the film). Wild Things, A Few Good Men, Murder In the First-- these all confirmed and exhibited his creepiness. Well, now I saw him in Where the Truth Lies, and was made physically uncomfortable when I saw him touching and kissing the body of the nude Alison Lohman (who is somehow 28 even though she looks 16). You know how in Body Shots-- when a sentence starts like that, you know it's not gonna end well-- but you know how in Body Shots, Tara Reid got naked and effectively ended her career, but you weren't allowed to like, look at her naked and be like, "Tara Reid is naked and hot" because she was naked during a DATE RAPE SCENE? Yeah, well, Alison Lohman is naked in this movie, but then skeazy, creepy, 85 year old Kevin Bacon with a shaggy 1970's haircut enters the frame and freaks everybody out. Now, I understand this was probably on purpose and represented a greater theme of the film, but it's gross and creepy, and entirely unexpected. Try playing Six Degrees of Creepy Bacon. It's fun-- just find a movie that Kevin Bacon was creepy in, where someone else who is creepy was in. Like Wild Things. Matt Dillon can be pretty creepy (or depressing). Matt Dillon was in Crash with William Fichtner (the detective in Prison Break and Sheriff in Invasion). William Fichtner was in Prison Break with Robert Knepper (aka T-Bag), the creepiest dude ever who will never be able to get another role without people assuming he's a child molester. Robert Knepper was is going to be in Hitman with Timothy Olyphant (bad guy in Live Free or Die Hard) who was in Catch and Release with the ever-creepy Juliette Lewis who is in Kalifornia with Brad Pitt who was very creepy IN the movie Kalifornia. Brad Pitt is in Sleepers with none other than your first creep, Kevin Bacon. This is what I do with my time.
Bad Impersonations: I saw a comedian a week ago who did a lot of impersonations. He wanted to end his act with them, and so he rattled off a bunch. Here's the thing with impersonations-- if you can't nail the voice, you better have something hilarious to say that I haven't heard before. If you can nail the voice, you still better be able to say something amusing, otherwise you're just doing an impersonation, which is laudible, but not necessarily funny. This guy did a dead on Jack Nicholson-- but all he said was like, "I like scotch," which isn't remotely funny. We get it, Jack drinks and is cool-- but they aren't called Acknowledgements, they're called Impersonations. He went on to do a bunch of the obvious ones including Pacino, Bush, Matthew McConaughey (which is the best imdb search name ever-- you can type pretty much anything after Matthew Mc____ and it'll come up with his name), and Robert De Niro. Then he threw in a shockingly outdated Jeff Goldblum, which he neither was able to do accurately, nor say anything funny while doing. Then he tried the gold standard and past its prime impersonation: Christopher Walken. Look: If you can't do Christopher Walken as good or better than Jay Mohr, don't do it. We've all heard great C.W. impressions. Your mediocre attempt, talking about dancing is not new territory. It's a deal breaker. So after the poor Christopher Walken, he said he wouldn't leave until he got real applause. So he did a Bono. Scattered claps. John Madden. More claps, clearly because we wanted this guy to leave. He didn't accept it because the claps were too delayed. After one of the worst Robin Williams impressions I've ever heard, the crowd ripped into applause. He thanked us and left. Wow.
Now, if you've watched any baseball in the last few weeks, you know that there is a new show called Frank TV with Frank Caliendo of Mad TV. He does a bunch of impersonations, too, but he seems to be really good at them (mostly because of the clothes he has on, but he has good voices and things to say). It looks like a good impersonation example. I have NO IDEA how they are going to sustain a 12-23 episode season with him doing impersonations, but I guess that's why I'll watch. Feel free to post Witz impersonations in the comments section ("Uh, what's with like, dishwashers...man? I DON'T pick them-- they're all 'wash off the plates first'...what's the point! Yeah, dishwashers...I'm totally gonna pay the bills with this killer comedy...").
People Who Think I'm the Weird One For NOT Eating Oysters: People keep getting on my and other people's asses for not eating oysters-- like we're the weird ones. Are you serious? Oysters have possibly the most disgusting consistency I've ever tasted and taste mostly like snot. Sometimes flavored snot. They are also really really expensive and generally accompany a time when I'm paying for two aka another person who doesn't actually like oysters, but has been forced to act like they do. "But they're an aphrodisiac!" Ok, who cares? So are hand-jobs and I'm not running around paying for those (and I'll quote Entourage her-- Turtle: "Who the FUCK wants a hand-job?"). Also, according to Discovery Health, oysters do not increase sexual desire or performance at all, but do work as a placebo since everyone thinks they do. Ironically, the band Placebo works in the reverse way-- you hear their music and immediately want to have no contact of any kind with anyone, and prefer the depressed doomed loneliness of your room and the darkness. So to you I say, YOU ARE THE WEIRD ONE.
What If Oysters Are Empty nside And First Graders Are Getting Paid Millions For Their Tasty Snot?,
Witz
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Witz Pickz: Weekend Excursions
I'm back! Where did I go, you ask? Why, on a Weekend Excursion of course! In this case, a few of us drove down to LA to catch the Red Sox ALDS Game 3 against the Angels. The drive was a bit long (which it turns out you find out on the way BACK, not on the way there. Once the excitement of "We're going, we're going" turns into "We went, we're exhausted, we're-- going back to work..." it becomes a bit rough.), but the trip itself was amazing, the Red Sox won and swept the series which was perfect, and we met some good people while we were there. For the record, Angel Stadium is gorgeous, albeit a little Disney-fied, but there are great views of the field all over the place, and the seats aren't outrageously small and packed. Also, if you're a Red Sox fan, watching at Angel Stadium feels like a home game, because Angels fans invented things like Thunder Sticks and Angels Paddles to make up for the fact that there just aren't that many Angels fans who are that hardcore. As one guy said, "Oh yeah, you got paddles? At Fenway we tap the plastic of our empty beer cups and do it the old fashioned way-- you know, clapping..."
On the way back, their was really only one momentous event-- Carl's Jr. I loath Carl's Jr. I don't have any basis for hating C's J so much, but I do. It's like the scummy, asshole cousin of Sonic and it always seems to show up when all I really want is a Sonic, only Sonic doesn't exist in 95% of the areas they advertise (apparently they're stealing Little Caesar's marketing plan). But oh, there's CARL'S JR! With that goddamn star logo, smiling evilly as if to say, "We know we're you're only option! What're ya gonna do-- get gas station food? Nope, we're Carl's Jr. and we are prevalent at desolate rest stops." So we went to Carl's Jr. We went to face our hate head on and find out if we were correct. And ya know what? Like most things, my hate was misplaced. Inside, Carl's Jr. is pretty much like any other fast food joint. The menu is almost entirely like Burger King's and tastes similar. There is one wild difference, and that is the option of Waffle Fries. They bafflingly don't advertise this option, and it was only through chance that any of us were able to acquire them. They also have amazing milkshakes that far surpass BK or McDonald's. And they put whipped cream on top-- which I like, because they are essentially saying, "Look, we know you know our food is bad for you. And we know you know we know our food is bad for you. So here's some whipped cream on top of your milkshake, as a little wink to you that we get it, and we know you get it, and we just all wanna have a good time here, ok?" It turns out my real hate for Carl's Jr. is simply at Sonic for not providing enough coverage. Carl's Jr is simply filling in the void they are leaving, and that's noble. I also have my issues with the name, because I pretty much don't get it. See, the apostrophe is after the Carl (not that this helps any). So it's Carl's Jr. The Jr. belongs to Carl. Nobody calls restaurants Juniors, so that doesn't work. It could be referring to Carl's son, Carl, Jr. but I'm not attending Carl's Son, I'm attending his fast food chain where I can acquire fat and feel shameful about it later. So what's with the apostrophe, Carl's Jr.? The burgers aren't small, they don't offer tiny burgers, and they even offer Thickburgers, which just absurdly bad for you, even though they are low-carb meals (poor marketing). So my only guess is that Carl was impotent and not able to conceive a child and thus made his restaurant his son. Or perhaps he was just too large a man with very evil eyes and never met a special lady to have a child with. Either way, Carl's Jr. was born and exists, and has an evil smile I can only assume is reminiscent of the lonely, but hungry Carl.
Vineyard Visits: Another great weekend excursion is a vineyard visit. There are vineyards all over the place in Calinfornia, the Pacific Northwest, the Northeast, etc. and visiting, it turns out, is a lot of fun. You see, you go and if they have a tasting room, they will generally give you some free samples of their wine. For usually only a few dollars more, you get a bunch more tasted of more of their wines. They are discussed and presented to you by someone who knows waaaaay more about wine than you and lets you know it, in a friendly, but dominating manner. This is an especially good time to hone your acting skills. Because, once they give you the wine, you ACT like you have any freakin' idea what you and the lady are talking about. "It's like smoky, with a thick berry initial offering, and finishes with a smooth plum tart with plenty of tannins."
....
....
"Yes, agreed! It's....like burning wood...with a fruity IPO worth getting in on and then I swallow it and it tastes like....wine-- I mean-- pl-- plums? and then I can't swallow because my tongue and throat are dry..."
....
While I've gotten a little better at figuring out what wine's taste like, I mostly just know if I like them or not. The one thing I keep hearing though and have no idea whatsoever what it means is that there is a "plum taste" or a "plum finish." I don't think anyone has any idea what plums taste like, and I'm pretty sure that saying "plum" is wine talk for "something we can't identify." I can't remember the last time a plum was an option for me to eat, and I can't remember the last time somebody I know ate one. For a while, I at least thought I knew what a plum looked like, but then I realized I was actually picturing the McDonald's character Grimace. But it's nice to try. And for a few dollars you can try plenty of wine, get a light buzz, and figure out a little better what you like in a wine. Then, you can go back to Trader Joe's and pickup some more Two Buck Chuck knowing that it might taste a little worse, but that's called EXPERIENCE, and you're only getting more of it. Here are some things not to ask at a vineyard if you don't want to get evil looks:
--"And which is your cheapest bottle?"
--"What did the wine enthusiast say at the beach? I'm just tannin."
--"Which is your best like, DRINKIN' wine, know what I mean?"
--"I'm not swirling this wine because I have any idea what I'm doing, I'm swirling it because I'm a little buzzed and am trying to break my own personal record of perfect swirls-- of 3."
--To Friend, Too Loudly: "I like that other vineyard's wine way better..."
--"Wines to me are like the opposite of Christopher Columbus's upon discovery of America: I hate the whites and I'm really thankful for all the reds."
--"Which one goes best with Wheat Thins?"
Witz Pickz Is Another Great Weekend Excursion,
Witz
On the way back, their was really only one momentous event-- Carl's Jr. I loath Carl's Jr. I don't have any basis for hating C's J so much, but I do. It's like the scummy, asshole cousin of Sonic and it always seems to show up when all I really want is a Sonic, only Sonic doesn't exist in 95% of the areas they advertise (apparently they're stealing Little Caesar's marketing plan). But oh, there's CARL'S JR! With that goddamn star logo, smiling evilly as if to say, "We know we're you're only option! What're ya gonna do-- get gas station food? Nope, we're Carl's Jr. and we are prevalent at desolate rest stops." So we went to Carl's Jr. We went to face our hate head on and find out if we were correct. And ya know what? Like most things, my hate was misplaced. Inside, Carl's Jr. is pretty much like any other fast food joint. The menu is almost entirely like Burger King's and tastes similar. There is one wild difference, and that is the option of Waffle Fries. They bafflingly don't advertise this option, and it was only through chance that any of us were able to acquire them. They also have amazing milkshakes that far surpass BK or McDonald's. And they put whipped cream on top-- which I like, because they are essentially saying, "Look, we know you know our food is bad for you. And we know you know we know our food is bad for you. So here's some whipped cream on top of your milkshake, as a little wink to you that we get it, and we know you get it, and we just all wanna have a good time here, ok?" It turns out my real hate for Carl's Jr. is simply at Sonic for not providing enough coverage. Carl's Jr is simply filling in the void they are leaving, and that's noble. I also have my issues with the name, because I pretty much don't get it. See, the apostrophe is after the Carl (not that this helps any). So it's Carl's Jr. The Jr. belongs to Carl. Nobody calls restaurants Juniors, so that doesn't work. It could be referring to Carl's son, Carl, Jr. but I'm not attending Carl's Son, I'm attending his fast food chain where I can acquire fat and feel shameful about it later. So what's with the apostrophe, Carl's Jr.? The burgers aren't small, they don't offer tiny burgers, and they even offer Thickburgers, which just absurdly bad for you, even though they are low-carb meals (poor marketing). So my only guess is that Carl was impotent and not able to conceive a child and thus made his restaurant his son. Or perhaps he was just too large a man with very evil eyes and never met a special lady to have a child with. Either way, Carl's Jr. was born and exists, and has an evil smile I can only assume is reminiscent of the lonely, but hungry Carl.
Vineyard Visits: Another great weekend excursion is a vineyard visit. There are vineyards all over the place in Calinfornia, the Pacific Northwest, the Northeast, etc. and visiting, it turns out, is a lot of fun. You see, you go and if they have a tasting room, they will generally give you some free samples of their wine. For usually only a few dollars more, you get a bunch more tasted of more of their wines. They are discussed and presented to you by someone who knows waaaaay more about wine than you and lets you know it, in a friendly, but dominating manner. This is an especially good time to hone your acting skills. Because, once they give you the wine, you ACT like you have any freakin' idea what you and the lady are talking about. "It's like smoky, with a thick berry initial offering, and finishes with a smooth plum tart with plenty of tannins."
....
....
"Yes, agreed! It's....like burning wood...with a fruity IPO worth getting in on and then I swallow it and it tastes like....wine-- I mean-- pl-- plums? and then I can't swallow because my tongue and throat are dry..."
....
While I've gotten a little better at figuring out what wine's taste like, I mostly just know if I like them or not. The one thing I keep hearing though and have no idea whatsoever what it means is that there is a "plum taste" or a "plum finish." I don't think anyone has any idea what plums taste like, and I'm pretty sure that saying "plum" is wine talk for "something we can't identify." I can't remember the last time a plum was an option for me to eat, and I can't remember the last time somebody I know ate one. For a while, I at least thought I knew what a plum looked like, but then I realized I was actually picturing the McDonald's character Grimace. But it's nice to try. And for a few dollars you can try plenty of wine, get a light buzz, and figure out a little better what you like in a wine. Then, you can go back to Trader Joe's and pickup some more Two Buck Chuck knowing that it might taste a little worse, but that's called EXPERIENCE, and you're only getting more of it. Here are some things not to ask at a vineyard if you don't want to get evil looks:
--"And which is your cheapest bottle?"
--"What did the wine enthusiast say at the beach? I'm just tannin."
--"Which is your best like, DRINKIN' wine, know what I mean?"
--"I'm not swirling this wine because I have any idea what I'm doing, I'm swirling it because I'm a little buzzed and am trying to break my own personal record of perfect swirls-- of 3."
--To Friend, Too Loudly: "I like that other vineyard's wine way better..."
--"Wines to me are like the opposite of Christopher Columbus's upon discovery of America: I hate the whites and I'm really thankful for all the reds."
--"Which one goes best with Wheat Thins?"
Witz Pickz Is Another Great Weekend Excursion,
Witz
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Witz Pickz: Website Changes!
As you can probably tell, I spent a little time updating the page tonight. There are now a bunch new features and a slightly different look. Here's what I did:
*Lightened the background so your eyes don't get quite so burnt out.
*Changed some of the fonts and sizes for aesthetic purposes
*Added a friggen sweat music player (courtesy of finetune in the top right. There are 45 tracks on my playlist, so you can listen to plenty of music while you read and hangout at Witz Pickz.
*Added a poll on the right hand side. Witz Pickz occasional Democracy. And yes, I realize the results portion of the poll looks effing terrible-- I'm working on it...
*Far easier to navigate Archives Menu in the sidebar.
*More links!
*A Donation Button-- I debated whether or not I should have this and ultimately decided that I might as well give people the option. As my readers and friends, I do not expect anyone to donate and will not be the least bit upset if you do not. I just wanted to have the option out there. After all, Bates College allowed me to spend $160,000 on a Creative Writing Degree, so this is kind of the same thing...
*Contact info at the bottom of the page
There's more to come and obviously I'm playing around with this and utilizing some new toys, but I think it's for the better. Please let me know what you think works and what you think doesn't work, or any ideas that you have (leave comments on this post). The google adwords are pretty much here to stay though, as I need some way of attempting to generate some income. Feel free to click on them before you leave or actually utilize them, as they are becoming more and more relevant and specific.
*Lightened the background so your eyes don't get quite so burnt out.
*Changed some of the fonts and sizes for aesthetic purposes
*Added a friggen sweat music player (courtesy of finetune in the top right. There are 45 tracks on my playlist, so you can listen to plenty of music while you read and hangout at Witz Pickz.
*Added a poll on the right hand side. Witz Pickz occasional Democracy. And yes, I realize the results portion of the poll looks effing terrible-- I'm working on it...
*Far easier to navigate Archives Menu in the sidebar.
*More links!
*A Donation Button-- I debated whether or not I should have this and ultimately decided that I might as well give people the option. As my readers and friends, I do not expect anyone to donate and will not be the least bit upset if you do not. I just wanted to have the option out there. After all, Bates College allowed me to spend $160,000 on a Creative Writing Degree, so this is kind of the same thing...
*Contact info at the bottom of the page
There's more to come and obviously I'm playing around with this and utilizing some new toys, but I think it's for the better. Please let me know what you think works and what you think doesn't work, or any ideas that you have (leave comments on this post). The google adwords are pretty much here to stay though, as I need some way of attempting to generate some income. Feel free to click on them before you leave or actually utilize them, as they are becoming more and more relevant and specific.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Witz Pickz: Midweek Bonanza!
Here are some Pickz and DOESN'T Pickz for your midweekness. Sorry it's late, but I've had a heluva day trying to get cable hooked up to watch baseball and trying to track down some pumpkin ale.
WITZ PICKZ:
Shipyard Pumpkinhead Ale: After searching fruitlessly for pumpkinhead beer in California, I came up having to buy Jack's Pumpkin Spice Ale. I can't find out who the larger brewing company is for this seasonal ale, but it does not even remotely stand up to the deliciousness that is Pumpkinhead. They say that stuff tastes better when you work for it, but I went to four different stores to find this Jack's Pumpkin stuff, and it's still not as good. At each place, the people oddly looked at me like I was crazy-- especially at the two liquor stores where they seemed to be giving me, "What do you think this is-- a quality establishment?" smirks. Nobody had heard of pumpkin ale. Finally, after two Safeways and two liquor stores, I found a place that sells pumpkin ale, and it's still pretty mediocre. Pumpkinhead Ale on the other hand, is easily accessible in the northeast, and pretty cheap too. Definitely check it out if you can or if you're in the area in September or October. For those of you in Maine, there is a Pumpkinhead Festival in late October, so check that out.
I'm Reed Fish: I checked this movie out because it was free on Netflix (one of the ones you can watch online and not have to get in the mail-- also a great service with tons of good stuff), and because the lead character from Undeclared is in it (Jay Baruchel). The film is a story about a small town where most people don't leave. Reed Fish is a young local morning show host on the radio as his father used to be. He is engaged to the girl everyone knew he would marry and his one major setback is that his parents died tragically in some kind of accident. Then, a girl returns to town and his world gets turned upside down-- she is one of the people who GOT OUT of the town and went to college. It sounds very very obvious and done before, but there is an interesting twist which makes it worth seeing if you have a lot of free time. I'm not gonna say what it is, but it adds layers and depth to the film and gets you thinking, as well as resolves the plot in a unique way. In addition, the most compelling aspect of the film is that it was written by a guy named Reed Fish, so it makes you wonder what is real and what isn't and how reality and film are related (especially when you see the interesting aspect that I was talking about).
Reggie Willits is WHITE: Angels player Reggie Willits is white. That is amazing, because every single person ever would assume that a guy named Reggie with a last name like Willits who plays a professional sport would NOT be white. And yet, as Brooklyn Matt and I realized, there comes a time in every fantasy baseball owners life when they realize Reggie Willits is white and astounds them. I had this revelation previously and had this revelation AGAIN today, when I saw him in person against the Red Sox. That's one cool white dude-- I sure couldn't get away with being named Reggie.
Natalie Portman Talking About Microfinance: By request, I'm reviewing the Natalie Portman talk I saw yesterday. Natalie Portman, along with a business professor, discussed the FINCA program which opens small banks in foreign countries in need-- typically in small villages with poor women living in a culture of male abuse. The loans range from very small to decently sized and are used to specific tools to enhance business and allow women to be self-supportive and escape their male abusers. It then allows them to hire other women and build on the growth. Most people might have known this, but I'd never heard of it before and it sounds like a great endeavor. As for Natalie Portman, who I feel like has dropped off on the "hotness" and "object of obsession" charts in recent years (while therefore simultaneously raising many men on the "creepy that you only dug Natalie Portman when she was so young" charts), she seemed very well-informed and obviously intelligent (Harvard'll do that to ya). She also seemed very cool and friendly, and made a bunch of asides to the audience which it was clear she felt she was similar to both agewise and interest-wise. She seemed a little calculating, and she wasn't the smoothest public speaker, but she got a lot of people interested and that was her job. At the same time, it was really really odd to be in a room so obviously filled with guys and girls who were there only to see somebody famous. The girls weren't so bad, but seeing and hearing the guys, it was very depressing to know that so many guys were kind of their with the slight thought, "Maybe I could get with Natalie Portman." There was this weird vibe like a lot of people were thinking or talking about little fantasies where after the talk THEY would be the ones to somehow say something clever or catch her eye and bond instantly with her. It creeped me out, but many people did seem honestly interested in the topic, and that was nice. I enjoyed the talk, Natalie Portman seemed cool, and now I can say that I heard Natalie Portman talk and saw her in person-- so that's something. Support FINCA. I would also like to say that this pick was requested by The Critic Wannabe, over on myspace. He makes great film reviews on a much more regular schedule than I do, so check that out!
WITZ DOESN'T PICK:
Tivo Ad Campaign: At what point did Tivo decide that they wanted to run a chauvinistic male dominated ad campaign? It's a little baffling. I keep seeing this one commercial where the guy is sitting there saying, "My Tivo knows what I want-- unlike my girlfriend. It knows I like baseball, so it records everything with the word baseball in it." First of all, ok, you and your girlfriend have some issues. Do you really want to bring those up now? Maybe she knows what you want, but doesn't want to appease you because you act like such an ass in public and tell people your dirty laundry. Secondly, who the hell wants EVERYTHING with "baseball" in the title?? I like baseball too, but that mostly means I want to watch a specific team's games. I don't need to see the Atlanta Braves play just because I get TBS. I don't need the little league world series recorded at the same time as Major League 3: Back to the Minors, at the same time as "Air Bud: Major League Dog" at the same time as "Little Big League." Actually, that sounds kinda sweet, but I wouldn't end up watching ANY OF IT. That's like if your girlfriend said, "I know you like chips, so I bought Doritos, Fritos, Cheetos, Harvest Chips, Ruffles, Baked Lays, Cape Cod Chips, ......" I'd say, "thanks, I do like chips, but HOW MUCH MONEY DID YOU JUST SPEND ON CHIPS!?" I don't need all those chips, just get me Doritos and I'll be happy. Just record me Baseball Tonight and we're good. NEXT, the guy goes says something like Tivo knows how to please him, UNLIKE SOMEONE HE KNOWS or whatever. Then the girl comes out ready for sex and he's all, "plus, I can pause it!" So Tivo is sweet up until your no-good- useless-whore-of-a-girlfriend-wants-to-have-sex-that-she's-probably-not-that-into-but-you clearly-abuse-her-emotionally-so-she-thinks-it's-what-she-has-to-do offers sex. Then, forget about it-- Tivo can wait. You have a bad relationship to string along. What a d-bag. I just don't get how Tivo thinks it's a good marketing campaign.
Witz Out...probably until Friday....,
Witz
WITZ PICKZ:
Shipyard Pumpkinhead Ale: After searching fruitlessly for pumpkinhead beer in California, I came up having to buy Jack's Pumpkin Spice Ale. I can't find out who the larger brewing company is for this seasonal ale, but it does not even remotely stand up to the deliciousness that is Pumpkinhead. They say that stuff tastes better when you work for it, but I went to four different stores to find this Jack's Pumpkin stuff, and it's still not as good. At each place, the people oddly looked at me like I was crazy-- especially at the two liquor stores where they seemed to be giving me, "What do you think this is-- a quality establishment?" smirks. Nobody had heard of pumpkin ale. Finally, after two Safeways and two liquor stores, I found a place that sells pumpkin ale, and it's still pretty mediocre. Pumpkinhead Ale on the other hand, is easily accessible in the northeast, and pretty cheap too. Definitely check it out if you can or if you're in the area in September or October. For those of you in Maine, there is a Pumpkinhead Festival in late October, so check that out.
I'm Reed Fish: I checked this movie out because it was free on Netflix (one of the ones you can watch online and not have to get in the mail-- also a great service with tons of good stuff), and because the lead character from Undeclared is in it (Jay Baruchel). The film is a story about a small town where most people don't leave. Reed Fish is a young local morning show host on the radio as his father used to be. He is engaged to the girl everyone knew he would marry and his one major setback is that his parents died tragically in some kind of accident. Then, a girl returns to town and his world gets turned upside down-- she is one of the people who GOT OUT of the town and went to college. It sounds very very obvious and done before, but there is an interesting twist which makes it worth seeing if you have a lot of free time. I'm not gonna say what it is, but it adds layers and depth to the film and gets you thinking, as well as resolves the plot in a unique way. In addition, the most compelling aspect of the film is that it was written by a guy named Reed Fish, so it makes you wonder what is real and what isn't and how reality and film are related (especially when you see the interesting aspect that I was talking about).
Reggie Willits is WHITE: Angels player Reggie Willits is white. That is amazing, because every single person ever would assume that a guy named Reggie with a last name like Willits who plays a professional sport would NOT be white. And yet, as Brooklyn Matt and I realized, there comes a time in every fantasy baseball owners life when they realize Reggie Willits is white and astounds them. I had this revelation previously and had this revelation AGAIN today, when I saw him in person against the Red Sox. That's one cool white dude-- I sure couldn't get away with being named Reggie.
Natalie Portman Talking About Microfinance: By request, I'm reviewing the Natalie Portman talk I saw yesterday. Natalie Portman, along with a business professor, discussed the FINCA program which opens small banks in foreign countries in need-- typically in small villages with poor women living in a culture of male abuse. The loans range from very small to decently sized and are used to specific tools to enhance business and allow women to be self-supportive and escape their male abusers. It then allows them to hire other women and build on the growth. Most people might have known this, but I'd never heard of it before and it sounds like a great endeavor. As for Natalie Portman, who I feel like has dropped off on the "hotness" and "object of obsession" charts in recent years (while therefore simultaneously raising many men on the "creepy that you only dug Natalie Portman when she was so young" charts), she seemed very well-informed and obviously intelligent (Harvard'll do that to ya). She also seemed very cool and friendly, and made a bunch of asides to the audience which it was clear she felt she was similar to both agewise and interest-wise. She seemed a little calculating, and she wasn't the smoothest public speaker, but she got a lot of people interested and that was her job. At the same time, it was really really odd to be in a room so obviously filled with guys and girls who were there only to see somebody famous. The girls weren't so bad, but seeing and hearing the guys, it was very depressing to know that so many guys were kind of their with the slight thought, "Maybe I could get with Natalie Portman." There was this weird vibe like a lot of people were thinking or talking about little fantasies where after the talk THEY would be the ones to somehow say something clever or catch her eye and bond instantly with her. It creeped me out, but many people did seem honestly interested in the topic, and that was nice. I enjoyed the talk, Natalie Portman seemed cool, and now I can say that I heard Natalie Portman talk and saw her in person-- so that's something. Support FINCA. I would also like to say that this pick was requested by The Critic Wannabe, over on myspace. He makes great film reviews on a much more regular schedule than I do, so check that out!
WITZ DOESN'T PICK:
Tivo Ad Campaign: At what point did Tivo decide that they wanted to run a chauvinistic male dominated ad campaign? It's a little baffling. I keep seeing this one commercial where the guy is sitting there saying, "My Tivo knows what I want-- unlike my girlfriend. It knows I like baseball, so it records everything with the word baseball in it." First of all, ok, you and your girlfriend have some issues. Do you really want to bring those up now? Maybe she knows what you want, but doesn't want to appease you because you act like such an ass in public and tell people your dirty laundry. Secondly, who the hell wants EVERYTHING with "baseball" in the title?? I like baseball too, but that mostly means I want to watch a specific team's games. I don't need to see the Atlanta Braves play just because I get TBS. I don't need the little league world series recorded at the same time as Major League 3: Back to the Minors, at the same time as "Air Bud: Major League Dog" at the same time as "Little Big League." Actually, that sounds kinda sweet, but I wouldn't end up watching ANY OF IT. That's like if your girlfriend said, "I know you like chips, so I bought Doritos, Fritos, Cheetos, Harvest Chips, Ruffles, Baked Lays, Cape Cod Chips, ......" I'd say, "thanks, I do like chips, but HOW MUCH MONEY DID YOU JUST SPEND ON CHIPS!?" I don't need all those chips, just get me Doritos and I'll be happy. Just record me Baseball Tonight and we're good. NEXT, the guy goes says something like Tivo knows how to please him, UNLIKE SOMEONE HE KNOWS or whatever. Then the girl comes out ready for sex and he's all, "plus, I can pause it!" So Tivo is sweet up until your no-good- useless-whore-of-a-girlfriend-wants-to-have-sex-that-she's-probably-not-that-into-but-you clearly-abuse-her-emotionally-so-she-thinks-it's-what-she-has-to-do offers sex. Then, forget about it-- Tivo can wait. You have a bad relationship to string along. What a d-bag. I just don't get how Tivo thinks it's a good marketing campaign.
Witz Out...probably until Friday....,
Witz
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Witz DOESN'T Pick: My Super UnSweet Asshole Haircut
Eff.
Eff.
Eff.
This is why I don't get my hair cut very often. This is why I have long hair. This is why the Jews are still struggling in this world.
Eff.
Eff.
Eff.
I got a haircut this morning. Nice lady. Good lookin' place. Expensive. So I go in and this lady gets all excited for my long curly hair and says she can cut curly hair and I showed her a picture and she said great and oh, she likes the picture haircut so much more than my hair now, blah blah blah. So she does the washing of the hair gig and then just rips into my definitely too long curls with her scissors. She's taking some off the top, taking some off the sides, really working it, but talking too. I'm making conversation, but know better than to let down my guard, so I'm watching in the mirror the whole time. She finally comes to a stopping point and I look and IT LOOKS GOOD! I'm baffled, but happy, and say "Good length, looks good, thanks!" and notice that she's inexplicably left the back of my hair in a mullet. Long in the back. I look like the photonegative of Patrick Swayze in Road House. So we keep going. She takes it up some, cuts some more off, and it still looks good. Great. Fantastic. She does the spin around with the mirror, the back looks good, we're good to roll. She takes the thinning shearers and thins out the top a bit, and everything still looks good. So we make our way over to the sink to re-wash my hair and get rid of all the excess. When I'm done, it looks crappy, but that's because it's wet. She restyles it a little, throws some gel in, and it once again looks like a good haircut. I pay. Tip. And leave.
Eff.
Eff.
Eff.
AS SOON AS I LEAVE THE STORE, I KNOW SOMETHING IS WRONG.
I get in the car and take a look in the mirror. Holy shit-- it's tiny. I am not a small dude, and my hair is tiny. Boxy. I try to mess with it like before, but it won't puff up, it won't spread out, and it looks like I'm rocking the Hair Club For Men-- and I can't tell if I'm a before or after picture.
I drive fast to get home and rush to my mirror. AWFUL! I take a shower, redo some stuff, try again-- AWFUL! MY HAIRCUT IS MISERABLE! I try on hats and look like I have cancer. My cowboy hat is the only hat with a speck of helpfulness and I'm not cool enough to wear cowboy hats in public. Plus, I did look a little like a cowboy with cancer which means EVERYONE will assume I smoked a lot of Marlboro's and got cancer from it-- serves me right.
Taking a closer inspection, I try to gage what's wrong. It's kinda long enough on top. The sides are suddenly lacking depth and very close to my head. SO I look like Lyle Lovett. One sideburn is higher than the other. And then there's the back. She took more off, but still left it long apparently in a way that I didn't notice in the shop. It's curling up like a wave and looks REALLY DUMB with the short hair on top and the sides. HOW COULD SHE MESS THAT UP?? How come nobody can just gimme a legit hair cut with even sideburns, clean cut in the back, and even all the way around? And did they have secret special mirrors that make everything look in proportion in the store? Cuz now I look like a fat guy on a little scooter so to speak, and I don't know what to do.
I decide my clothes aren't helping-- baggy isn't gonna make this look any bigger on my head. I change into some long shorts and a tight black t-shirt. OK-- looking better. I try on a hat again-- worse worse worse-- cancer and whatnot. Damn. Then I see my new reflective aviator glasses I bought over the weekend for five bucks. Worth a shot. I put them on and-- it's like putting on The Mask in the film The Mask. I suddenly look alright-- only, what is it, what is that I'm noticing? Oh-- I look like a GIANT ASSHOLE. BIG BIG D-Bag. I look like I should spin albums in clubs and be known as DJ Date Rape. Like if you came up and said, "Dude, you date raped Cynthia?" all accusingly, I'd say, "Phff-- at least I'm getting laid." THAT GUY.
But I don't think I have any alternatives. The only way I achieved this hair looking even remotely bearable was through a series of unpredictable, never-repeatable swooshes of my hand through my hair. If I touch it, it'll only get worse. Only, without the glasses, it still looks doofy and weird. SO I have to wear the glasses. And the black shirt (if I take it off, my hair will get effed up). I'm not even in good enough shape to WEAR this black t-shirt, so I guess I better get on that. And the surfer long, plaid shorts. That's my only versatility. Am I Asshole Surfer Guy or am I gonna be Asshole Jeans and Black T-Shirt 1970's guy? I'm pretty sure if I add any hair gel I'm going to have to get into Devo and Duran Duran, so that options out. Asshole is in.
And Asshole IS in. People love assholes, even if they don't admit it. Who were the popular kids in high school. Assholes. Politicians? Assholes. College sports stars? Assholes (except Greg Oden, who looks like he had a lot to deal with). So I'm going with it. I'm gonna try this out and hopefully it'll right itself by the time I go for a job interview or meet someone I want to like me. I'm gonna go hear Natalie Portman talk about Microfinance or something later today, and up until now, I didn't think I'd say anything to her afterwards. But ya know what? Now that I look like an asshole, maybe I have a shot. I look like Zach Braff with, you know, like, any testosterone in my system (fine-- I'm hairy, ok? There, I said it). And besides, until this sorts itself out, I'm introducing myself as Cecil Rose, my number one fan on tvfodder.com/survivor.
Whudafxup,
Witz
Eff.
Eff.
This is why I don't get my hair cut very often. This is why I have long hair. This is why the Jews are still struggling in this world.
Eff.
Eff.
Eff.
I got a haircut this morning. Nice lady. Good lookin' place. Expensive. So I go in and this lady gets all excited for my long curly hair and says she can cut curly hair and I showed her a picture and she said great and oh, she likes the picture haircut so much more than my hair now, blah blah blah. So she does the washing of the hair gig and then just rips into my definitely too long curls with her scissors. She's taking some off the top, taking some off the sides, really working it, but talking too. I'm making conversation, but know better than to let down my guard, so I'm watching in the mirror the whole time. She finally comes to a stopping point and I look and IT LOOKS GOOD! I'm baffled, but happy, and say "Good length, looks good, thanks!" and notice that she's inexplicably left the back of my hair in a mullet. Long in the back. I look like the photonegative of Patrick Swayze in Road House. So we keep going. She takes it up some, cuts some more off, and it still looks good. Great. Fantastic. She does the spin around with the mirror, the back looks good, we're good to roll. She takes the thinning shearers and thins out the top a bit, and everything still looks good. So we make our way over to the sink to re-wash my hair and get rid of all the excess. When I'm done, it looks crappy, but that's because it's wet. She restyles it a little, throws some gel in, and it once again looks like a good haircut. I pay. Tip. And leave.
Eff.
Eff.
Eff.
AS SOON AS I LEAVE THE STORE, I KNOW SOMETHING IS WRONG.
I get in the car and take a look in the mirror. Holy shit-- it's tiny. I am not a small dude, and my hair is tiny. Boxy. I try to mess with it like before, but it won't puff up, it won't spread out, and it looks like I'm rocking the Hair Club For Men-- and I can't tell if I'm a before or after picture.
I drive fast to get home and rush to my mirror. AWFUL! I take a shower, redo some stuff, try again-- AWFUL! MY HAIRCUT IS MISERABLE! I try on hats and look like I have cancer. My cowboy hat is the only hat with a speck of helpfulness and I'm not cool enough to wear cowboy hats in public. Plus, I did look a little like a cowboy with cancer which means EVERYONE will assume I smoked a lot of Marlboro's and got cancer from it-- serves me right.
Taking a closer inspection, I try to gage what's wrong. It's kinda long enough on top. The sides are suddenly lacking depth and very close to my head. SO I look like Lyle Lovett. One sideburn is higher than the other. And then there's the back. She took more off, but still left it long apparently in a way that I didn't notice in the shop. It's curling up like a wave and looks REALLY DUMB with the short hair on top and the sides. HOW COULD SHE MESS THAT UP?? How come nobody can just gimme a legit hair cut with even sideburns, clean cut in the back, and even all the way around? And did they have secret special mirrors that make everything look in proportion in the store? Cuz now I look like a fat guy on a little scooter so to speak, and I don't know what to do.
I decide my clothes aren't helping-- baggy isn't gonna make this look any bigger on my head. I change into some long shorts and a tight black t-shirt. OK-- looking better. I try on a hat again-- worse worse worse-- cancer and whatnot. Damn. Then I see my new reflective aviator glasses I bought over the weekend for five bucks. Worth a shot. I put them on and-- it's like putting on The Mask in the film The Mask. I suddenly look alright-- only, what is it, what is that I'm noticing? Oh-- I look like a GIANT ASSHOLE. BIG BIG D-Bag. I look like I should spin albums in clubs and be known as DJ Date Rape. Like if you came up and said, "Dude, you date raped Cynthia?" all accusingly, I'd say, "Phff-- at least I'm getting laid." THAT GUY.
But I don't think I have any alternatives. The only way I achieved this hair looking even remotely bearable was through a series of unpredictable, never-repeatable swooshes of my hand through my hair. If I touch it, it'll only get worse. Only, without the glasses, it still looks doofy and weird. SO I have to wear the glasses. And the black shirt (if I take it off, my hair will get effed up). I'm not even in good enough shape to WEAR this black t-shirt, so I guess I better get on that. And the surfer long, plaid shorts. That's my only versatility. Am I Asshole Surfer Guy or am I gonna be Asshole Jeans and Black T-Shirt 1970's guy? I'm pretty sure if I add any hair gel I'm going to have to get into Devo and Duran Duran, so that options out. Asshole is in.
And Asshole IS in. People love assholes, even if they don't admit it. Who were the popular kids in high school. Assholes. Politicians? Assholes. College sports stars? Assholes (except Greg Oden, who looks like he had a lot to deal with). So I'm going with it. I'm gonna try this out and hopefully it'll right itself by the time I go for a job interview or meet someone I want to like me. I'm gonna go hear Natalie Portman talk about Microfinance or something later today, and up until now, I didn't think I'd say anything to her afterwards. But ya know what? Now that I look like an asshole, maybe I have a shot. I look like Zach Braff with, you know, like, any testosterone in my system (fine-- I'm hairy, ok? There, I said it). And besides, until this sorts itself out, I'm introducing myself as Cecil Rose, my number one fan on tvfodder.com/survivor.
Whudafxup,
Witz
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Witz Pickz: Beating Urban Culture To the Punch!
All I can say is
NO.....
FREAKIN.....
WAY.....
http://movies.aol.com/unscripted/the-kingdom-unscripted-complete/the-kingdom/1971133
FROM MY LICENSE PLATE POST:
"Is this like when you tried to get people to start saying, "What's the tick-tock?"
"Kind of...."
"Or when you tried to start saying 'This night is gonna be BUCK" for a crazy night?'"
"Hey, I'm still trying to get that one started-- that one's cool."
"What does it even mean?"
"You know, buck wild. Goin' buck."
"I see, that's kind of good."
"Yeah."
YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME
WITZ HAS PASSED LONELYGIRL15 BY SO MUCH AFTER THIS! MORE LATER!
NO.....
FREAKIN.....
WAY.....
http://movies.aol.com/unscripted/the-kingdom-unscripted-complete/the-kingdom/1971133
FROM MY LICENSE PLATE POST:
"Is this like when you tried to get people to start saying, "What's the tick-tock?"
"Kind of...."
"Or when you tried to start saying 'This night is gonna be BUCK" for a crazy night?'"
"Hey, I'm still trying to get that one started-- that one's cool."
"What does it even mean?"
"You know, buck wild. Goin' buck."
"I see, that's kind of good."
"Yeah."
YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME
WITZ HAS PASSED LONELYGIRL15 BY SO MUCH AFTER THIS! MORE LATER!
Friday, September 28, 2007
Witz DOESN'T Pick: That Sprint Commercial
I've kinda had it with the Sprint Commercial-- you know the one. It's the one where the guy is talking over the scene of glow stick lights in a park with people. And he says, "What did you dream about when you were a kid? Was it to go into space? Maybe you wanted to fly?" and then he drops the bomb, "Or maybe you dreamed of a magical glowing device that could store all of your music, photos, and email, along with making phone calls, while fitting into your pocket."
NO! Sorry, Sprint, but you went too far. Nothing against your products, but NOBODY in the EFFING UNIVERSE dreamt of that as a child and you should know better. First of all, when most people who can afford the phone were children, they didn't have mp3's, digital photos, cell phones, or email and NOBODY was dreaming of those capabilities, let alone some device that could mobilize and consolildate all of those things in your pocket. Secondly, THAT'S SUPER LAME AND DESTROYS AND DEMEANS THE IDEA OF DREAMS. People dream about being able to do things like YES, go to space, or YES, fly, or make movies, or build skyscrapers, or invent everlating candies (but not the gobstopper due to copyrights already in place). THEY DON'T dream of organizers and phones. What baffles me is that anyone at spring thought that the flow of the commercial didn't sound inadvertently hilarious. It's only slightly better than saying, "Maybe you dreamt of space, or flying, or maybe of a hybrid chimpanzee/zebra that could run for hours and swing from branches, averting all obstacles while still encompassing the sense and spirit of fun that chimps exhibit while throwing their feces." Only slightly better. I've seen the commercial too many times, and Sprint needs to do something to change-- they do have a great 7pm cell phone free minutes policy though-- so check that out.
Witz DOES Pick!:
Suave Shampoo: Ya know, I bought Suave for it's low low prices, and I might have even mentioned it before as a good cheap alternative for shampoo. But, it was only recently that I decided that I do, in fact, feel more suave after using it. I mean, after showering with suave, I towel off with just a little more shake in my hips and confidence in my eyes. When I look down and see my suave collection of excess hair gathering in the drain, I almost chuckle with the knowledge that I have just suaved myself and lessened other men in the eyes of the ladies of the world. Sometimes I feel almost too suave-- like when the two-in-one shampoo conditioner makes it so easy for me to take showers quickly that I'm able to ignore the fact that neither the conditioner nor the shampoo actually seem to be having any effect whatsoever on my hair. But hey-- fast showers are suave. It's like, "OMG-- he showered so fast, he must be really dextrous to wash that quickly-- do you think he has less body fat than other guys who take longer to shower due to the amount of body fat they have to wash?" Knowing I shower with Suave gives me that extra something in my stride that I think is noticeable, if only subconsciously. And for 2 dollars a bottle-- that's a great value.
Survivor Blog Avid Reader/Enemy: I'm apparently developing a hate-hate relationship with one of my tvfodder.com/survivor readers. This person seems to loath me and everything I write, but reads on a weekly basis for the last two seasons. What's baffling is that their primary function seems to be to correct me and point out things I missed or forgot. Recently, their function has been to hate on my jokes and ideas by not recognizing them as ideas. It's astounding. It's like if one of you commented that Suave shampoo is not actually that good and hair in a drain ISN'T actually sexy. Oh-- thanks. It's as though the entire concept of misinterpreting things amusingly or for the sake of a joke and the idea of taking what material is available and using it for humor is completely foreign to this person. I don't know what to make of it, but they keep on reading, so I'm pretty excited. Here's a clip:
Me:
The next thing we learn is that Leslie is going to do her damnest to fulfil my dislike for her. Leslie is the Christian Talk Show Radio Host in South Carolina. Here’s the quote of the night after she turns and WALKS OUT OF THE TEMPLE because she feels uncomfortable: “I’m not a religious person, but I have a relationship with Jesus Christ.” ….….((whisper)) Leslie…baby…got news for you—you ARE a religious person, and it’s ok to admit it.…I mean, COME ON! I’m not a religious person, I just have a relationship with Jesus Christ? Are we thinking about the same Jesus Christ or does she know another because as far as I know, Jesus Christ exists as a spiritual being and not some dude on the corner of Main St and MLK, Jr. Blvd. That’s like saying, “I’m not a baseball player, I just play first base for the Dodgers and get paid for it 162 games a year.” I HOPE she is a religious person, otherwise there’s a propped up corpse lying around Leslie’s home that she chats with and shares her popcorn with Weekend At Bernie’s style.
I also mentioned that one of the tribes had a "dope shelter"
Arch-Nemesis:
Maybe Leslie's meaning was "I'm not a religions fanatic but..."
o-----------
DOPE shelter?
o----------
Anyway, I think this is gonna be a lot of fun in the coming weeks, and while I realie that example wasn't the grandest of differing opinions, there's some more backstory and just take it as one example in a long line of corrections and grievances.
So that's all for this week. Check back on Monday when I will hopefully have the wherewithall to keep the streak of posts alive-- either way, I got to use wherewithall (probably incorrectly) and am excited for that-- so why don't you get excited for me? Keep checkin the podcast link on the right as I will keep adding radio broadcasts with punk, hip-hop, and indie tunes, along with the glory of radio banter. Plus, then you can read these posts with my voice in your head, like Grey's Anatomy only better, The Wonder Years only worse, or How I Met Your Mother of equal quality.
Pimpin' Ain't Easy (Especially When It's Yourself-- Example: Hey Baby, You Want Some of This Bitch? This Ho? I'll Do Whatever I Tell Myself To Do-- Shampoo? Cell Phone Ads? Cinnamon? He's A Pop Culture Slut...I Am...),
Witz
NO! Sorry, Sprint, but you went too far. Nothing against your products, but NOBODY in the EFFING UNIVERSE dreamt of that as a child and you should know better. First of all, when most people who can afford the phone were children, they didn't have mp3's, digital photos, cell phones, or email and NOBODY was dreaming of those capabilities, let alone some device that could mobilize and consolildate all of those things in your pocket. Secondly, THAT'S SUPER LAME AND DESTROYS AND DEMEANS THE IDEA OF DREAMS. People dream about being able to do things like YES, go to space, or YES, fly, or make movies, or build skyscrapers, or invent everlating candies (but not the gobstopper due to copyrights already in place). THEY DON'T dream of organizers and phones. What baffles me is that anyone at spring thought that the flow of the commercial didn't sound inadvertently hilarious. It's only slightly better than saying, "Maybe you dreamt of space, or flying, or maybe of a hybrid chimpanzee/zebra that could run for hours and swing from branches, averting all obstacles while still encompassing the sense and spirit of fun that chimps exhibit while throwing their feces." Only slightly better. I've seen the commercial too many times, and Sprint needs to do something to change-- they do have a great 7pm cell phone free minutes policy though-- so check that out.
Witz DOES Pick!:
Suave Shampoo: Ya know, I bought Suave for it's low low prices, and I might have even mentioned it before as a good cheap alternative for shampoo. But, it was only recently that I decided that I do, in fact, feel more suave after using it. I mean, after showering with suave, I towel off with just a little more shake in my hips and confidence in my eyes. When I look down and see my suave collection of excess hair gathering in the drain, I almost chuckle with the knowledge that I have just suaved myself and lessened other men in the eyes of the ladies of the world. Sometimes I feel almost too suave-- like when the two-in-one shampoo conditioner makes it so easy for me to take showers quickly that I'm able to ignore the fact that neither the conditioner nor the shampoo actually seem to be having any effect whatsoever on my hair. But hey-- fast showers are suave. It's like, "OMG-- he showered so fast, he must be really dextrous to wash that quickly-- do you think he has less body fat than other guys who take longer to shower due to the amount of body fat they have to wash?" Knowing I shower with Suave gives me that extra something in my stride that I think is noticeable, if only subconsciously. And for 2 dollars a bottle-- that's a great value.
Survivor Blog Avid Reader/Enemy: I'm apparently developing a hate-hate relationship with one of my tvfodder.com/survivor readers. This person seems to loath me and everything I write, but reads on a weekly basis for the last two seasons. What's baffling is that their primary function seems to be to correct me and point out things I missed or forgot. Recently, their function has been to hate on my jokes and ideas by not recognizing them as ideas. It's astounding. It's like if one of you commented that Suave shampoo is not actually that good and hair in a drain ISN'T actually sexy. Oh-- thanks. It's as though the entire concept of misinterpreting things amusingly or for the sake of a joke and the idea of taking what material is available and using it for humor is completely foreign to this person. I don't know what to make of it, but they keep on reading, so I'm pretty excited. Here's a clip:
Me:
The next thing we learn is that Leslie is going to do her damnest to fulfil my dislike for her. Leslie is the Christian Talk Show Radio Host in South Carolina. Here’s the quote of the night after she turns and WALKS OUT OF THE TEMPLE because she feels uncomfortable: “I’m not a religious person, but I have a relationship with Jesus Christ.” ….….((whisper)) Leslie…baby…got news for you—you ARE a religious person, and it’s ok to admit it.…I mean, COME ON! I’m not a religious person, I just have a relationship with Jesus Christ? Are we thinking about the same Jesus Christ or does she know another because as far as I know, Jesus Christ exists as a spiritual being and not some dude on the corner of Main St and MLK, Jr. Blvd. That’s like saying, “I’m not a baseball player, I just play first base for the Dodgers and get paid for it 162 games a year.” I HOPE she is a religious person, otherwise there’s a propped up corpse lying around Leslie’s home that she chats with and shares her popcorn with Weekend At Bernie’s style.
I also mentioned that one of the tribes had a "dope shelter"
Arch-Nemesis:
Maybe Leslie's meaning was "I'm not a religions fanatic but..."
o-----------
DOPE shelter?
o----------
Anyway, I think this is gonna be a lot of fun in the coming weeks, and while I realie that example wasn't the grandest of differing opinions, there's some more backstory and just take it as one example in a long line of corrections and grievances.
So that's all for this week. Check back on Monday when I will hopefully have the wherewithall to keep the streak of posts alive-- either way, I got to use wherewithall (probably incorrectly) and am excited for that-- so why don't you get excited for me? Keep checkin the podcast link on the right as I will keep adding radio broadcasts with punk, hip-hop, and indie tunes, along with the glory of radio banter. Plus, then you can read these posts with my voice in your head, like Grey's Anatomy only better, The Wonder Years only worse, or How I Met Your Mother of equal quality.
Pimpin' Ain't Easy (Especially When It's Yourself-- Example: Hey Baby, You Want Some of This Bitch? This Ho? I'll Do Whatever I Tell Myself To Do-- Shampoo? Cell Phone Ads? Cinnamon? He's A Pop Culture Slut...I Am...),
Witz
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Witz DOESN'T Pick: License Plate Insanity
For as long as I can remember, I've been able to memorize license plate numbers by sounds or phrases. For example, I STILL remember that when we went to Disneyland in fifth grade, the license plate on our RENTAL car was PUF-6OU. I remember because I thought of it as Puf-six-oo, and if I'm not insane, I also set that phrase to the tune of "Matilda! She take me money and run Venezuela!" which was one of the songs we were singing in music class at the time (Puf-6-oo: She take me money and run Venezuela!). So I remember license plates. Sometimes they rhyme (one of my friends had a car 8_1-GUN which was awesome in the rhyming and the GUN factor-- I left the _ blank because somehow I feel I shouldn't be giving out license plate numbers). For whatever reason, I remember license plates a lot more than I imagine most people do.
Another thing I've done forever is turn license plate letters or numbers into phrases or words. I don't know if this is because of some literary OCD or because I was an English major or because one time my Dad said, "Don't forget that license plate!" about some guy who was speeding or cut us off or was driving sketchily and now I remember all plates momentarily just in case. I don't know why I do it, but I do it, and I bet a bunch of other people do, too. For example-- if a license plate said 6HT4ML, I'd probably immediately think "Hate Mail". Or if it said "2SPCL9" I'd think "Special." It's like that thing where they figured out that if the first and last letters in words were correct, people can read whole paragraphs with mispelled words. I fill in the blanks. I can't help but do it and I'm pretty ok with it.
That is, until recently, when MY OWN license plate numbers have been devolving into stupid word soup that lingually bothers the hell outta me. You see, FIRST I had my car on the east coast. The license plate was 7_4-JYT (_ omitted because I probably have an outstanding warrant on that license plate in NY State). It was easy to remember 7_4 "Jit". It had a good rhythm to it in my crazy, word addled mind. I was used to it. THEN, I moved to Seattle and got a new license plate (after months of deliberation). This time, I knew I wasn't happy: _48VQT. For obvious reasons related to my OCD License Plate Words Thing, I hate Q's, X's, and Z's. Very few words work with them (although I'd be ok with WTZPKZ-- oo, maybe I should get that.) in forming real words, and I'm forced to make everything straight edge or "no longer", i.e. 25XLW4 -- that's either 25 straight edge lawyers or 25 Former Law 4 (
There's a Law 4 on your head).
I did, however, slowly get used to _48 VQT. I got used to it to the point where I could remember it, and then realized that thanks to the lettering of WA in the same was as other east coast states, the 3 number, 3 letter setup was intact. This made it easier to ignore 048 and remember VQT as either "Very Quiet" or "Very Q-uTe." I figure, since my car is a beast in it's old age and since 3 mechanics have failed to fix the rattle I paid for them to fix, that nobody behind me is gonna think "Oh, that car is _48 Very Quiet." No, I'm pretty sure they're thinkin', "_48 Very (Q)Cute." So I got used to the plate and came to appreciate it. UNTIL YESTERDAY!
Yesterday, California took my neurosis and shot it to pieces. I registered my car here, and this is what they gave me: 5ZUP6_ _ (the last two digits are not important and I'm giving out my license plate on the web). WHICH IS TERRIBLE! Let's say it's 5ZUP642 for discussion's sake. Well, first of all, THAT'S 7 DIGITS! WHAT THE EFF CALIFORNIA?? That throws off all my shit. Then, it's 3 letters buried in 4 digits AND IT HAS A Z IN IT. Horrendous turn of events. And then I looked at it further. It sounds like I'm some dude who's trying to be cooler than he is, going around making up expressions to try and get people to like him.
"Yo, Fivez Up!"
"What?
"Fivez Up, dude, c'mon!"
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Gimme a high five man, you know, Fives Up!"
"That's ridiculous-- you're not that cool and even if you were 'Fives Up' is not going to win me over."
"Did you pronounce that with an S or a Z?"
"What?"
"The 'Fivez.' Was that with an S or a Z in your mind? 'Cause it kinda felt like an S..."
"It was an S...."
"Yeah, cuz really, it's more of a Z. FiveZ up...."
"Is this like when you tried to get people to start saying, "What's the tick-tock?"
"Kind of...."
"Or when you tried to start saying 'This night is gonna be BUCK" for a crazy night?'"
"Hey, I'm still trying to get that one started-- that one's cool."
"What does it even mean?"
"You know, buck wild. Goin' buck."
"I see, that's kind of good."
"Yeah."
"Remember when 'clutch' became popular?"
"That was odd."
"And you didn't invent hand-hockey -- the basement sport was invented by millions at the same time every generation-- It was an act of the Collective Unconscious."
"Fine."
"You agree?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
"Cool."
"Yeah, fives up, dude! ((hand in air))"
"You're an idiot."
"Fucking DMV."
SEE! See what's gonna happen!? Fivez up is not cool! But I'm gonna have to use it or my license plate is worthless. Or I'm gonna have to use "Zup" a lot like "hey man, zup?" and that's stupid. Or start an Italian/Greek restaurant named Zup that sells soup. This is my world. And my license plates are getting worse with time, and I'm probably gonna have to get another not too long from now, but until then, I have to deal with this-- this 7 digited demon of a plate. Just remember, you're probably just as crazy as me, but in other ways. Do you care what color your bath mat is? Do you feel the need for extra strong toilet paper? Do you sleep without a pillow? Or with only a comforter? Do you momentarily consider online and magazine offers before rejecting them? Ever shopped for a Siamese Cat (attached) because you wanted two kittens, but could only afford to feed and immunitize one, so you want a cat that is attached to another cat and they share one stomach and immune system? See-- you're crazy too.
Fivez Up, Bitches!,
Witz
Another thing I've done forever is turn license plate letters or numbers into phrases or words. I don't know if this is because of some literary OCD or because I was an English major or because one time my Dad said, "Don't forget that license plate!" about some guy who was speeding or cut us off or was driving sketchily and now I remember all plates momentarily just in case. I don't know why I do it, but I do it, and I bet a bunch of other people do, too. For example-- if a license plate said 6HT4ML, I'd probably immediately think "Hate Mail". Or if it said "2SPCL9" I'd think "Special." It's like that thing where they figured out that if the first and last letters in words were correct, people can read whole paragraphs with mispelled words. I fill in the blanks. I can't help but do it and I'm pretty ok with it.
That is, until recently, when MY OWN license plate numbers have been devolving into stupid word soup that lingually bothers the hell outta me. You see, FIRST I had my car on the east coast. The license plate was 7_4-JYT (_ omitted because I probably have an outstanding warrant on that license plate in NY State). It was easy to remember 7_4 "Jit". It had a good rhythm to it in my crazy, word addled mind. I was used to it. THEN, I moved to Seattle and got a new license plate (after months of deliberation). This time, I knew I wasn't happy: _48VQT. For obvious reasons related to my OCD License Plate Words Thing, I hate Q's, X's, and Z's. Very few words work with them (although I'd be ok with WTZPKZ-- oo, maybe I should get that.) in forming real words, and I'm forced to make everything straight edge or "no longer", i.e. 25XLW4 -- that's either 25 straight edge lawyers or 25 Former Law 4 (
There's a Law 4 on your head).
I did, however, slowly get used to _48 VQT. I got used to it to the point where I could remember it, and then realized that thanks to the lettering of WA in the same was as other east coast states, the 3 number, 3 letter setup was intact. This made it easier to ignore 048 and remember VQT as either "Very Quiet" or "Very Q-uTe." I figure, since my car is a beast in it's old age and since 3 mechanics have failed to fix the rattle I paid for them to fix, that nobody behind me is gonna think "Oh, that car is _48 Very Quiet." No, I'm pretty sure they're thinkin', "_48 Very (Q)Cute." So I got used to the plate and came to appreciate it. UNTIL YESTERDAY!
Yesterday, California took my neurosis and shot it to pieces. I registered my car here, and this is what they gave me: 5ZUP6_ _ (the last two digits are not important and I'm giving out my license plate on the web). WHICH IS TERRIBLE! Let's say it's 5ZUP642 for discussion's sake. Well, first of all, THAT'S 7 DIGITS! WHAT THE EFF CALIFORNIA?? That throws off all my shit. Then, it's 3 letters buried in 4 digits AND IT HAS A Z IN IT. Horrendous turn of events. And then I looked at it further. It sounds like I'm some dude who's trying to be cooler than he is, going around making up expressions to try and get people to like him.
"Yo, Fivez Up!"
"What?
"Fivez Up, dude, c'mon!"
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Gimme a high five man, you know, Fives Up!"
"That's ridiculous-- you're not that cool and even if you were 'Fives Up' is not going to win me over."
"Did you pronounce that with an S or a Z?"
"What?"
"The 'Fivez.' Was that with an S or a Z in your mind? 'Cause it kinda felt like an S..."
"It was an S...."
"Yeah, cuz really, it's more of a Z. FiveZ up...."
"Is this like when you tried to get people to start saying, "What's the tick-tock?"
"Kind of...."
"Or when you tried to start saying 'This night is gonna be BUCK" for a crazy night?'"
"Hey, I'm still trying to get that one started-- that one's cool."
"What does it even mean?"
"You know, buck wild. Goin' buck."
"I see, that's kind of good."
"Yeah."
"Remember when 'clutch' became popular?"
"That was odd."
"And you didn't invent hand-hockey -- the basement sport was invented by millions at the same time every generation-- It was an act of the Collective Unconscious."
"Fine."
"You agree?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
"Cool."
"Yeah, fives up, dude! ((hand in air))"
"You're an idiot."
"Fucking DMV."
SEE! See what's gonna happen!? Fivez up is not cool! But I'm gonna have to use it or my license plate is worthless. Or I'm gonna have to use "Zup" a lot like "hey man, zup?" and that's stupid. Or start an Italian/Greek restaurant named Zup that sells soup. This is my world. And my license plates are getting worse with time, and I'm probably gonna have to get another not too long from now, but until then, I have to deal with this-- this 7 digited demon of a plate. Just remember, you're probably just as crazy as me, but in other ways. Do you care what color your bath mat is? Do you feel the need for extra strong toilet paper? Do you sleep without a pillow? Or with only a comforter? Do you momentarily consider online and magazine offers before rejecting them? Ever shopped for a Siamese Cat (attached) because you wanted two kittens, but could only afford to feed and immunitize one, so you want a cat that is attached to another cat and they share one stomach and immune system? See-- you're crazy too.
Fivez Up, Bitches!,
Witz
Witz Pickz: The Glockenspiel, Queso & More
That's right kids and gentledults, I'm pickin' The Glockenspiel-- and ya know what? Eff it-- I'm not just picking The Glockenspiel, I'm picking: The MIGHTY Glockenspiel. Why mighty? You ask? Well, because if it wasn't mighty, then I'd be picking The Xylophone, wouldn't I? Or more accurately: The Mean-Spirited Xylophone! Due to its size and intonation, The Mean Spirited Xylophone has ruled elementary school music rooms and spelling bees for decades-- maybe even centuries. I mean, when you were little, in music class, after not getting the drum, did you reach for The Xylophone or the Glockenspiel? Xylophone, of course. And what did X stand for in third grade when explaining the sounds "X" could make? XYLOPHONE! What were the other options? X-hibit was still years from being famous, and Zeitgeist is ACTUALLY spelled with a Z. Xeroxing was prevalent, but certainly not by small children, as opposed to the XYLOPHONE. I'm thinking that classroom teachers and music teachers had a secret plot to push the xylophone upon children and the xylophone went right along with it. BUT-- we're not here to talk about the Xylophone. We're here for the Glockenspiel.
The Glockenspiel has battled furiously, if not subtlely, over the years, and has emerged as the Numba One bar-and stick-with-rubber-ball-on-it instrument in popular culture. The Shout Out Louds use a glockenspiel to dominate their audiences, and Mozart utilized the Glockenspiel far more often than the xylophone in his symphonies (call me on that, I fucking DARE YOU). And I know you all are like, "Not to mention that Buddy Holly song, right?" which is exactly what I was thinking when I started this post, but NO, it was in fact, not a glockenspiel OR a xylophone, but a celeste, which is like a glockenspiel piano. Wikipedia, however, does say that the celeste is most similar to a glockenspiel and makes no mention of that outrageous, mean-spirited xylophone. Given The Mighty Glockenspiel's size (or lack thereof), it has had many uphill battles to win, and has done so (I mean, I assume). When referencing the noise these instruments make, I have not once said "xylophone" and nobody I know has either. It is always "glockenspiel." Plus, you can refer to it as a glock, which is badass. Saying, "yo, I'm on the Xylo" sounds like a white guy trying to act like a black person unsuccessfully, while "Yo, I'm on the Glock" sounds like a white guy trying to act like a black person fairly successfully. These are the subtle differences of life. Well done, you small, instrumentally specific device.
Chips n' Queso: Not chips and cheese, people, Chips and (preferably n' though & is also acceptable) Queso. Not nearly prevalent enough in our society, Chips n' Queso are the leading appetizer snack in places like Austin, Texas, and....Mexico. Fritos can't make a comparable dip. Tostitos can't either. It takes the perfect blend of spicy peppers or salsa/chili and melted cheese to create the perfect queso dip. If I only knew a good recipe and/or Chili's chef.
Ziplock bags: Nobody gives ziplock bags enough credit. They're like pillows in that respect, and even more like pillows in other respects if you stuff them with refried beans or marshmallows. These suckers know that I can't finish everything all the time. Cheese, pizza bagels, meats, c'mon, you know what these puppies are for (NOT FOR PUPPIES). I bought like, one bag of ziplock bags a few months ago, and they feel like they are endless. They come in all sizes now and can even fit a loaf of bread. SNAP!
Little Caesars Crazy Bread and Pizza: After years and years of seeing commercials for, but no actual locations of Little Caesars, I now live in a place where I have found a restaurant-- if you can call it that. Little Caesars is a lot like Fight Club. First, as mentioned, they potentially don't exist. Little Caesars does not deliver. If you go to Little Caesars and order a pizza, you will pay 5 dollars. Pepperoni-- 5 dollars. Cheese-- 5 dollars. If there is a mishap with your pizza, Little Caesars will deny all existence and sale of said food item. They also serve Crazy Bread. My Friend With A Pool purchased his first Little Caesars pizza (also, are they possessive or plural? I'm thinkin' plural, but it's hard to recall the commercials), and was baffled when he handed them 5 dollars and was immediately handed a pepperoni pizza. It was like buying crack, apparently, and he felt both baffled and dirty from the exchange. THIS IS WHAT THE CRAZY BREAD IS FOR. The Crazy Bread is packed with numbing drugs to make you feel less shocked by the value. It is also delicious. But, thinking about it, not at all crazy. Or so I thought-- then I realized that Crazy Bread was first invented twenty or so years ago, before Cheese Stix, Papa John's Bread Sticks, or the P'Zone. Cheesey, salty, garlicky breadsticks probably did seem pretty damn NUTS. You can't refer to a product as a Nuts-Stick (ask the good people who make Payday Bars, they know), so they went with Crazy BREAD-- and for BREAD it is still fairly insane. People in the 80's must have been losing their minds, eating Crazy Bread all over the place with no idea what was happening. They probably assumed that Taste Fairies were involved, sprinkling fairy dust aka Secret Seasoning onto their food. No other method would have made sense to them back them. Also, there's a good chance whoever started Little C's was doing A LOT OF DRUGS-- like, Coke, Meth, Crack, Weed, you name it. There general gameplan was that they sell everything at one price, advertise everywhere, exist almost nowhere, not deliver, and sell breadsticks with light flavoring they thought were CRAZY. Then they charged 2 bucks for marinara sauce. Freakin' nuts.
Little Caesars Glockenspiel Jamboree N' Queso (Are Ahead of Their Time),
Witz
The Glockenspiel has battled furiously, if not subtlely, over the years, and has emerged as the Numba One bar-and stick-with-rubber-ball-on-it instrument in popular culture. The Shout Out Louds use a glockenspiel to dominate their audiences, and Mozart utilized the Glockenspiel far more often than the xylophone in his symphonies (call me on that, I fucking DARE YOU). And I know you all are like, "Not to mention that Buddy Holly song, right?" which is exactly what I was thinking when I started this post, but NO, it was in fact, not a glockenspiel OR a xylophone, but a celeste, which is like a glockenspiel piano. Wikipedia, however, does say that the celeste is most similar to a glockenspiel and makes no mention of that outrageous, mean-spirited xylophone. Given The Mighty Glockenspiel's size (or lack thereof), it has had many uphill battles to win, and has done so (I mean, I assume). When referencing the noise these instruments make, I have not once said "xylophone" and nobody I know has either. It is always "glockenspiel." Plus, you can refer to it as a glock, which is badass. Saying, "yo, I'm on the Xylo" sounds like a white guy trying to act like a black person unsuccessfully, while "Yo, I'm on the Glock" sounds like a white guy trying to act like a black person fairly successfully. These are the subtle differences of life. Well done, you small, instrumentally specific device.
Chips n' Queso: Not chips and cheese, people, Chips and (preferably n' though & is also acceptable) Queso. Not nearly prevalent enough in our society, Chips n' Queso are the leading appetizer snack in places like Austin, Texas, and....Mexico. Fritos can't make a comparable dip. Tostitos can't either. It takes the perfect blend of spicy peppers or salsa/chili and melted cheese to create the perfect queso dip. If I only knew a good recipe and/or Chili's chef.
Ziplock bags: Nobody gives ziplock bags enough credit. They're like pillows in that respect, and even more like pillows in other respects if you stuff them with refried beans or marshmallows. These suckers know that I can't finish everything all the time. Cheese, pizza bagels, meats, c'mon, you know what these puppies are for (NOT FOR PUPPIES). I bought like, one bag of ziplock bags a few months ago, and they feel like they are endless. They come in all sizes now and can even fit a loaf of bread. SNAP!
Little Caesars Crazy Bread and Pizza: After years and years of seeing commercials for, but no actual locations of Little Caesars, I now live in a place where I have found a restaurant-- if you can call it that. Little Caesars is a lot like Fight Club. First, as mentioned, they potentially don't exist. Little Caesars does not deliver. If you go to Little Caesars and order a pizza, you will pay 5 dollars. Pepperoni-- 5 dollars. Cheese-- 5 dollars. If there is a mishap with your pizza, Little Caesars will deny all existence and sale of said food item. They also serve Crazy Bread. My Friend With A Pool purchased his first Little Caesars pizza (also, are they possessive or plural? I'm thinkin' plural, but it's hard to recall the commercials), and was baffled when he handed them 5 dollars and was immediately handed a pepperoni pizza. It was like buying crack, apparently, and he felt both baffled and dirty from the exchange. THIS IS WHAT THE CRAZY BREAD IS FOR. The Crazy Bread is packed with numbing drugs to make you feel less shocked by the value. It is also delicious. But, thinking about it, not at all crazy. Or so I thought-- then I realized that Crazy Bread was first invented twenty or so years ago, before Cheese Stix, Papa John's Bread Sticks, or the P'Zone. Cheesey, salty, garlicky breadsticks probably did seem pretty damn NUTS. You can't refer to a product as a Nuts-Stick (ask the good people who make Payday Bars, they know), so they went with Crazy BREAD-- and for BREAD it is still fairly insane. People in the 80's must have been losing their minds, eating Crazy Bread all over the place with no idea what was happening. They probably assumed that Taste Fairies were involved, sprinkling fairy dust aka Secret Seasoning onto their food. No other method would have made sense to them back them. Also, there's a good chance whoever started Little C's was doing A LOT OF DRUGS-- like, Coke, Meth, Crack, Weed, you name it. There general gameplan was that they sell everything at one price, advertise everywhere, exist almost nowhere, not deliver, and sell breadsticks with light flavoring they thought were CRAZY. Then they charged 2 bucks for marinara sauce. Freakin' nuts.
Little Caesars Glockenspiel Jamboree N' Queso (Are Ahead of Their Time),
Witz
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Witz Pickz: Pillows (NO, GET MORE EXCITED! PILLOWS! WOOOOOO! THAT'S BETTER)
At the risk of getting a google ad for Gay Fat Men With Large Breasts, I'm going to go ahead and pick Pillows. I feel like pillows don't get the credit they deserve, but instead are treated as a luxury we've almost always had. From the time I was born, but not until I was old enough to not suffocate myself on one, I've had a pillow to sleep on. Sometimes one, sometimes two, sometimes an obscure combination of foldovers and additions until my neck and body all fit perfectly into sweet, comfortable slumber.
I've tried sleeping without pillows, and ya know what? It sucks! If you like it, it probably means you're some kind of self-loathing fool. And don't try and pull that "Pillows are actually bad for your posture/spine/Hardcore Level. That rumor has been spreading for years and is totally off-base. I'm guessing it was first brought up by the mattress companies who wanted to be able to talk about how form fitting their mattresses are. "You don't even need those hellish, spine trouncing pillows-- our mattresses meld to your head's curvature to give you the perfect night's rest-- even if you feel like you're lying in a Man Mold and overnight when you're asleep they'll bring down another mattress on top of you to gain a perfect cast to use as a cloning profile......Fuck Pillows." Perhaps the mattress companies started this rumor, but it was obviously the Swedish who kept it alive. Posturepedic, anyone? How about those crazy effing tubular "head rests" that support your neck but potentially cut off blood circulation to your brain? Yeah, those are a treat. I rarely if ever implicate the Swedes in anything (though I'm onto you The Boustedts...and Ingmar Bergman, I can't fathom what you were up to, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't soft and cushy), but this time, it must be done. Swedes Hate Pillows, there I said it. Put it on a t-shirt. Sell it for 15 dollars. Give me 5 of those dollars for every t-shirt you sell and we'll have a good thing going. What I'm trying (successfully, I think) to say, is that the Anti-Pillow Myth needs to be busted and-- oh wait, what's that? Millions of millions of people sleep with pillows regularly and think it's QUOTE "FREAKING AWESOME!!" END QUOTE? Oh, that's right-- I almost forgot. WINK.
MYTH BUSTED!
Another reason pillows are so undervalued is that they are UNDERVALUED. You can buy a pillow for like 3 dollars nowadays. You can buy a real pillow that doesn't spread all the fluff out to the sides so your head lies on the mattress with a thin sheet formerly part of a stable looking pillow for like FIVE DOLLARS. Pillows are so cheap that we forget how important they are. Unlike extension cords and power strips, I've bought a LOT of pillows, and I'm always like, "Yeah, whatever, I don't know if we need another pillow, but let's get it, it's like 10 bucks for eight of them." And I get home and don't need the pillow and put it in the closet until guests visit. I don't mind spending the money and it's because they are both undervalued and totally worth having plenty of. The next time a guest comes over and is like, "Oh, cool, the couch" I'm like, "NOPE! The couch-- WITH PILLOWS" and then we stay up an extra 20 minutes fiesta dancing because of the pillow, but also because we've probably had a bit to drink and in the wee hours of the morning when I'm a little drunk is most likely when I'm up for a good fiesta dance.
So go be thankful for your pillows. They are tremendous emotional and physical supports, and unless you're a baby (or a baby who wants to add an element of danger to the crib), they are the one of the greatest luxuries in the world.
I Totally Am Gonna Get Gay Fat Guys With Breasts Ads From Google Now Even Though I Wouldn't Have Before Aren' I? Oh God, Now I'm Definitely Going To Because of This.,
Witz
I've tried sleeping without pillows, and ya know what? It sucks! If you like it, it probably means you're some kind of self-loathing fool. And don't try and pull that "Pillows are actually bad for your posture/spine/Hardcore Level. That rumor has been spreading for years and is totally off-base. I'm guessing it was first brought up by the mattress companies who wanted to be able to talk about how form fitting their mattresses are. "You don't even need those hellish, spine trouncing pillows-- our mattresses meld to your head's curvature to give you the perfect night's rest-- even if you feel like you're lying in a Man Mold and overnight when you're asleep they'll bring down another mattress on top of you to gain a perfect cast to use as a cloning profile......Fuck Pillows." Perhaps the mattress companies started this rumor, but it was obviously the Swedish who kept it alive. Posturepedic, anyone? How about those crazy effing tubular "head rests" that support your neck but potentially cut off blood circulation to your brain? Yeah, those are a treat. I rarely if ever implicate the Swedes in anything (though I'm onto you The Boustedts...and Ingmar Bergman, I can't fathom what you were up to, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't soft and cushy), but this time, it must be done. Swedes Hate Pillows, there I said it. Put it on a t-shirt. Sell it for 15 dollars. Give me 5 of those dollars for every t-shirt you sell and we'll have a good thing going. What I'm trying (successfully, I think) to say, is that the Anti-Pillow Myth needs to be busted and-- oh wait, what's that? Millions of millions of people sleep with pillows regularly and think it's QUOTE "FREAKING AWESOME!!" END QUOTE? Oh, that's right-- I almost forgot. WINK.
MYTH BUSTED!
Another reason pillows are so undervalued is that they are UNDERVALUED. You can buy a pillow for like 3 dollars nowadays. You can buy a real pillow that doesn't spread all the fluff out to the sides so your head lies on the mattress with a thin sheet formerly part of a stable looking pillow for like FIVE DOLLARS. Pillows are so cheap that we forget how important they are. Unlike extension cords and power strips, I've bought a LOT of pillows, and I'm always like, "Yeah, whatever, I don't know if we need another pillow, but let's get it, it's like 10 bucks for eight of them." And I get home and don't need the pillow and put it in the closet until guests visit. I don't mind spending the money and it's because they are both undervalued and totally worth having plenty of. The next time a guest comes over and is like, "Oh, cool, the couch" I'm like, "NOPE! The couch-- WITH PILLOWS" and then we stay up an extra 20 minutes fiesta dancing because of the pillow, but also because we've probably had a bit to drink and in the wee hours of the morning when I'm a little drunk is most likely when I'm up for a good fiesta dance.
So go be thankful for your pillows. They are tremendous emotional and physical supports, and unless you're a baby (or a baby who wants to add an element of danger to the crib), they are the one of the greatest luxuries in the world.
I Totally Am Gonna Get Gay Fat Guys With Breasts Ads From Google Now Even Though I Wouldn't Have Before Aren' I? Oh God, Now I'm Definitely Going To Because of This.,
Witz
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