Sunday, March 13, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Look into your own soul for answers
- The Chosen by Chaim Potok
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
Friday, March 04, 2011
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
Schiphol's urinals
In Amsterdam, the tiles under Schipol's urinals would pass inspection in an operating room.
But nobody notices. What everybody does notice is that each urinal has a fly in it.
Look harder: it is actually a black outline of a fly etched into the porcelain.
It has been discovered that it improves aim by 80%.
If a man sees the fly, he aims at it. A perfect example of process control.
LINK
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
A Dream Within a Dream
- Edgar Allan Poe
| Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow- You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep- while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream? |
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Sun Tzu's lesser-known text, The Fart of War
I'm about 6'7'' so even when I'm just trying to be friendly (i.e. not farting on a stanger kid's head) and meeting a family member's or friend's kid for the first time, I've noticed they get very 'hide between their mother's legs' intimidated on sight if I'm not sitting down. So it's not hard for me to silence/intimidate a child, especially when I'm trying to.
However, a few times I've been called out. One time I was pretty drunk with a friend at a Target buying Risk (and no, we never finished playing the whole game). This little mexican 5-7 year old with a mohawk, was being an insufferable little shit in the action figure section. I heard him from like 5 aisles over and it was like nails on a chalkboard. I tell my friend, "I'm gonna fart on this kids head. Watch and learn."
I saunter on over to the aisle in question and see the vile little prick calling his mom an "idiot" for not buying him a huge fucking G.I. JOE The Movie vehicle (which pissed me off even more considering how awful that movie was. BUY SOME GOOD TOYS!) "I already bought that one for you and you broke it by throwing it down the stairs" "SHUT UP. I NEED IT. IT'S THE ONLY ONE I DON'T HAVE NOW." The mother was younger than me (I'm mid twenties) and gave a defeated look, "I don't have enough money right now." "YOU ARE AN IDIOT," and continued to just berate and publicly shame this woman.
At the time, I was on a strict Chipotle carnitas burrito diet. And while I was watching all this, my stomach gave me an initial warning gurgle (very courteous stomach) telling me I was about an hour away from punishing the toilet. Serendipity! Destiny!
I inch a bit closer to my prey, inspecting some wrestling toys and pondering the weird homoeroticness of the whole 'sport' in general. The kid shouts "FUCK YOU, I HATE YOU!" The mom rolls her eyes and turns her back to the kid to ignore him. And could you believe it, the kid gets on his hands and knees and starts taking the toy out of the box. It's go time, motherfucker.
I position my back towards him and at this point am like 2 feet away from him. His head is down, getting frustrated with those god damn twisty tie things, and I go for the kill. I bend down to reach for the one of the toys on the lower shelf. At this point, my ass is INCHES away from this kids head.
Now, generally speaking, the best way to go about this is to act casual, drop your belly bomb, then walk away after a few seconds like nothing is out of the ordinary. I usually go one aisle over and listen to the kid's reaction in delight. However, today I couldn't help myself. I have my head tilted back looking at this kid out of the corner of my eye, to ensure accuracy.
I'm so close that from a distance it looks like I'm about to sit on him,. My friend sees this happening and can no longer contain himself. He's covering his mouth, but his 'hee-haw' hyperventilating donkey chortle is fairly audible over the late 90's pop muzak playing on the loudspeakers.
The kid immediately looks up towards the laughter, but can't help but notice there is an ass now directly in his face. Now, I'm trying not to laugh but also panicking as I just made eye contact with him. He furls his brow and I look over in the mother's direction, still back towards us. I relish in the moment and the look on this child's confused and naive face.
The initial blast was mighty and boisterous. I swear I saw his hair blowing in the wind (so to speak). If I wasn't wearing jeans, I think it could have probably blown over an empty soda can. I would call it "a very fun fart" (A++ would buy again). However, what immediately followed that out the chamber was truly horrifying. The fart's implication changed without notice and swiftly. It went from a joyous, dry airhorn squeal to a nefarious, hissing mephitis. I think the little moppet noticed the hateful metamorphosis before even I did because he wretched his neck violently trying to get away from the personified evil being fumigated into his soul. Because of his positioning (hovering over the toy, hands and knee), it was all in vain as the only way out was forward...and forward would mean certain death. I had positioned myself well on the higher ground, free to escape or relent at any time and him, poor and immobilized: biding his time until the cruel attack was over. Obviously, this child needed to re-read Sun Tzu.
In total, it lasted about 4 seconds but for that kid, it must have seemed like time was frozen. The long-term severe brain damage which he no doubt suffered, only added to that effect.
When finished with my bidness (i.e. forcing a little boy to huff my farts), there was a silent, pregnant pause. The kid was clearly shocked and stunned. No one had ever stood up to this dwarf sociopath in his whole life. I had taken the words out of his mouth and filled it with fart.
I make my move first, picking up the toy I was "reaching for" off the low shelf, take a few steps forward and stare at it for a few seconds. On '2 alligator,' the only thing the kid could manage to do was burst into tears. My friend senses danger 'the jig is up' and his head darts for cover. The mom turns around to see her kid with an open toy, crying on the floor and me minding my own business.
She walks up to him and asks what's wrong but the kid can't speak. All he gets out is, "BAWAWAAAWAFARTBAWAWA." It took every fiber in my body not to laugh. I put the toy back on a middle shelf, turn around, give a final nonchalant looksy and then begin to take my exit.
Sensing that his assailant was getting away scot-free, he somehow managed to compose himself for a moment. He shouts, "HE FARTED ON ME!" I could feel him pointing at me but I continued to act like I was just browsing. I was ALMOST around the corner when the mom goes:
"Excuse me....sir....SIR!"
I turn around nonplussed, "Uh...who? Me?" while pointing to myself.
"Yes. Did YOU just FART on my son?"
Weighing my options, I played dumb. "What? I mean, I did fart."
"On my son?"
"Well, I mean, technically speaking...I mean...what is 'on'?"
"Why did you fart on my son?"
At this point the little kid has the look of schadenfreude on his face, happy to see me in trouble. Fuck you, I'M A MAN! I WILL FART ON YOU IF I PLEASE! I turn my attention to the little kid and stare at him, "Because the whole store could hear him being a little, rotten asshole to his mother so I thought I'd come over here and treat him like one."
The mom looks at me, her son and the scattered GI JOE/wrappers/box on the floor. The mom is puzzled as to what to do and says, "Just..just go." That's my cue! I turn around, walk away with little extra step. I look up to see the black orb of security cameras and all the stories on reddit about unjustly having to register as a sex offender flash before my eyes. As soon as I turn the corner, I book it outside as fast as I can while dialing my friend. Like a true friend, he is right out front with the engine running and Risk in the trunk.
We laugh on the car ride back about the whole scene. With a slight hint of seriousness in his tone, my friend asks me:
"Do you do that a lot?"
"Ahhh, not that much. Like once every 6 months or so."
We both knew I was lying. We got to our other friends house, played risk until 4 in the morning while drinking scotch. Overall, I would say it was a preeeetay preeeeetay good day.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The secret of Invention
Be alone, that is the secret of invention;
be alone, that is when ideas are born.
- Nikola Tesla
- Nikola Tesla
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Husband's reward after drinking the night away
A man woke up in the morning with a terrible hangover, and could not remember what he had done the night before.
On the table next to the bed he saw two aspirins, a glass of water, and a note from his wife, saying "Honey, there is a hot breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen. Love you lots!
He looks around the room and sees that it is in perfect order; spotlessly clean. He quickly notices that the rest of the house looks extremely clean.He decides to get up and stumbles into the bathroom where notices he has a very swollen and very black and blue eye.
After shaving, he goes to the kitchen as he passes the hall he sees that the mirror is broken.
At this point he is very perplexed.
He realizes that his son is in the kitchen and is eating his huge breakfast. The man asks the son "What happened last night, why is the house clean, and my eye black?"
The son replies "Well, last night dad you came home drunk off your ass, stumbled into the mirror, broke it, and hit your head on the bedroom doorknob.
Mom helped you to bed, and as she was trying to get your pants off you kicked her away, and said "get off me lady, I'm married!"
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
Sunday, February 06, 2011
Which One Of These Ten Magical Items Would You Choose? And Why?
- A pot that can produce 1,000 kilograms of any food a day.
- A bracelet that keeps weather perfect wherever you go and within a 250 kilometre radius.
- A necklace that allows you to touch books and instantly absorb knowledge from them, without reading.
- An unlimited bottle of perfume that will make you wildly attractive to the opposite sex (or same sex if you’re gay), which cannot be used on anyone you love.
- A watch that allows you to reverse time by a minute or less per day.
- A bell that when rang fixes any one object at a time, excluding living things, within a minute.
- A chocolate bar, with twelve pieces, that makes anyone who eats a single piece invincible and youthful until the age of 160.
- A no fuel required, maintenance free, eight person van that can take you anywhere on the planet within one second.
- A remote control that allows you and another person to change, superficially, into anyone you want; the effect lasts until you decide to revert.
- An immortal dog that poops out one gold coin every time it goes to the bathroom.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Francis Ford Coppola on Stealing Material
"I once found a little excerpt from Balzac. He speaks about a young writer who stole some of his prose. The thing that almost made me weep, he said, “I was so happy when this young person took from me.” Because that’s what we want. We want you to take from us. We want you, at first, to steal from us, because you can’t steal. You will take what we give you and you will put it in your own voice and that’s how you will find your voice.
And that’s how you begin. And then one day someone will steal from you. And Balzac said that in his book: It makes me so happy because it makes me immortal because I know that 200 years from now there will be people doing things that somehow I am part of. So the answer to your question is: Don’t worry about whether it’s appropriate to borrow or to take or do something like someone you admire because that’s only the first step and you have to take the first step."
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Saturday, January 15, 2011
"Look at that, you son of a bitch."
[In outer space] you develop an instant global consciousness, a people orientation, an intense dissatisfaction with the state of the world, and a compulsion to do something about it. From out there on the moon, international politics look so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles out and say, "Look at that, you son of a bitch."
— Apollo 14 Astronaut Edgar Mitchell
photo from the Kayuga moon probe
How to Write Your Own Kick Ass Obituary
Let's be honest, most obituaries are not all that good. The worst part about them is that you are never around to read your own obit and see what a great person you were. Here are some great ideas if you want an exciting obituary that everyone will enjoy reading. As a bonus, you can get even with the people that made fun of you in high school and make a few bucks.
1. Write your own obituary
It is imperative that you write your own obituary or have a trusted friend do it BEFORE you die. If you do not, your Aunt (who has her own blog and fancies herself as a “writer”) will type it up and it will suck and you’ll be stuck with an awful summation of your life.
Once you do finish writing your own obit, make sure you send a draft copy out to all your family and friends so that they can miss you while you are still alive. They will then have the opportunity to pay to be included in the obituary (see section #5) or pay to be excluded from the obituary (see section #8.)
2. Don't give them the satisfaction
Most people will suggest you start off an obit with the person’s name, the date they died and how they died. I suggest you start off with “You are not going to believe this!” or “Guess what that fat f*ck Bob did now” or “You were right.” Don't include your age so that your friends don't get the satisfaction of outliving you.
3. Doug who?
No one knows you by your real name so why die by that name? Nicknames that were used independently of your name go in quotation marks in the middle of your real name.
Robert “Stacks” Gutfruend
Joan “Cookie Monster” McCreedy
Nicknames that were part of your job or the reason you went to jail go before your real name:
“Handsy” Jim Handland
“Luscious Diamond” Tina Ralph
“Tea-Bag” Bill Billingsworth
Or if you don’t want anyone to know you died, just post a fake nickname.
John “Two-Sack” Christopher
If you didn’t have a nickname in real life, make sure you make one up or tell your obit writer your suggestions before you die. And don’t post your middle name. We’re not monogramming a sweater here.
4. Rhyming and haikus make for great obituaries
I suggest trying them together.
You smoked like a fire
Now you're atop a pyre
No flowers please, Thanks!
5. No one cares
No one cares about who died before you or how many cousins you have that are still alive. If your relatives want in your obit, charge them $5 - $10 a mention.
No one cares where you went to school or where you earned your associates degree. List your favorite bars or hang outs. People are more likely to remember Johnny “Cantaloupes” Mullroy from the bowling alley, rather than a graduate of Lancaster High School
6. People like excitement
Don’t die of cancer. Die of a space borne alien parasite.
Don’t die in a car accident. Get hit by a meteorite.
Die a hero (stolen from Royal Tennebaums) "Died Tragically Rescuing his Family From the Wreckage of a Destroyed Sinking Battleship."
And do not fail to give a reason for why you died or people will assume it was from something embarrassing. Everyone knows that a non-mention means "bled to death from a masturbation accident."
7. Get donations now
There are services that will “loan’ you a lump sum of money now and get that money back when you die through the "Please donate to" charity suggested in the obituary. The loan companies have names like, “The Amerikan Heart Foundation” and “The Redd Cross” and “Amway.” At the bottom of your obit, have money sent to them in lieu of flowers. If you can’t come up with enough donations to cover your loan, they will take your suit/dress, coffin and body parts to make up the difference.
8. Let those jerks have it
An Obituary is the perfect time to get back at all the people who have pissed you off your entire life. Being dead is the perfect cover for a lie or to let out a really stinky truth. Here are a few examples:
-I never loved you (insert family member’s name here.)
-Coach Rogers touched me on my pee pee after baseball practice.
-I had herpes. Now I have worms.
-Aunt Tina, I was and always will be a Red Sox fan.
-My G-mail and MySpace password is clicktowin34. Go ahead and read my e-mails, honey.
This is also a perfect opportunity for relatives to make “pre-donations” to be excluded from this portion of the obituary. For $10 now, Uncle Bob won't get outted. For $50 neither will your Uncle Lou whom you found with Uncle Bob.
Here is my Obituary, just so you know:
Doug “Holyjuan” Messerschmit
Well, you can all stop placing your bets. Doug is dead. You won’t see him at B-Hampton’s or at Skully’s anymore, but you can see him Ray’s Funeral Home this Wednesday from 6 – 8pm. The parts of his body that were not destroyed when he dove on top the improvised nuclear device and thus saved the city will be on display. HolyJuan liked to dance poorly, drink quickly, tell the same stories and flirt with the ladies. He owned two bowling shirts and 12 pairs of Converse. He is survived by his parents ($20) and one sister ($5.) Donations can be made to the American Kancer Society and my brother used to stick Legos in my butt while I slept.
HERO: Man lives on cliff and talks down suicide jumpers.. for the last 50 years
Don Ritchie lives across the street from the most famous suicide spot in Australia
So what's his big secret? Ritchie wakes up every morning and looks out the window for "anyone standing alone too close to the precipice." If he sees someone who looks like they might be contemplating a jump, he walks over and... strikes up a conversation. He just gives them a warm smile, asks if they'd like to talk and invites them back to his house for tea. Sometimes, they join him.
"I'm offering them an alternative, really," Ritchie says, "I always act in a friendly manner. I smile."
Ritchie's house might be the worst real estate ever. One person a week commits suicide at the "the Gap," the cliff he lives across from. It's protected only by a small, one-meter fence, despite its legendary reputation as a suicide spot dating back to the 1800s.
But the former life insurance salesman says he doesn't feel "burdened" by the fact that people are always contemplating jumping to their deaths outside his house. In fact, he and his wife Moya see it as a blessing: "I think, 'Isn't it wonderful that we live here and we can help people?'"
Obviously, he's not always successful, and, at times, he's had to physically restrain people from jumping while Moya calls the police. But it isn't necessarily traumatic:
Despite all he has seen, he says he is not haunted by the ones who were lost. He cannot remember the first suicide he witnessed, none have plagues his nightmares. He says he does his best with each person, and if he loses one, he accepts that there was nothing more he could have done.
Ritchie, who basically sounds like the nicest guy in the entire world, is 84, and has spent much of the last year battling cancer. But, as you might expect for a dude who's managed to live across from a fucked-up, tragic place, and not become a casualty himself, he's optimistic: "I imagine somebody else will come along and do what I've been doing." I hope so.
Friday, January 07, 2011
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Today You.. Tomorrow Me.
Have you ever picked up a hitchhiker?
Just about every time I see someone I stop. I kind of got out of the habit in the last couple of years, moved to a big city and all that, my girlfriend wasn't too stoked on the practice. Then some shit happened to me that changed me and I am back to offering rides habitually. If you would indulge me, it is long story and has almost nothing to do with hitch hiking other than happening on a road.
This past year I have had 3 instances of car trouble. A blow out on a freeway, a bunch of blown fuses and an out of gas situation. All of them were while driving other people's cars which, for some reason, makes it worse on an emotional level. It makes it worse on a practical level as well, what with the fact that I carry things like a jack and extra fuses in my car, and know enough not to park, facing downhill, on a steep incline with less than a gallon of fuel.
Anyway, each of these times this shit happened I was DISGUSTED with how people would not bother to help me. I spent hours on the side of the freeway waiting, watching roadside assistance vehicles blow past me, for AAA to show. The 4 gas stations I asked for a gas can at told me that they couldn't loan them out "for my safety" but I could buy a really shitty 1-gallon one with no cap for $15. It was enough, each time, to make you say shit like "this country is going to hell in a handbasket."
But you know who came to my rescue all three times? Immigrants. Mexican immigrants. None of them spoke a lick of the language. But one of those dudes had a profound affect on me.
He was the guy that stopped to help me with a blow out with his whole family of 6 in tow. I was on the side of the road for close to 4 hours. Big jeep, blown rear tire, had a spare but no jack. I had signs in the windows of the car, big signs that said NEED A JACK and offered money. No dice. Right as I am about to give up and just hitch out there a van pulls over and dude bounds out. He sizes the situation up and calls for his youngest daughter who speaks english. He conveys through her that he has a jack but it is too small for the Jeep so we will need to brace it. He produces a saw from the van and cuts a log out of a downed tree on the side of the road. We rolled it over, put his jack on top, and bam, in business. I start taking the wheel off and, if you can believe it, I broke his tire iron. It was one of those collapsible ones and I wasn't careful and I snapped the head I needed clean off. Fuck.
No worries, he runs to the van, gives it to his wife and she is gone in a flash, down the road to buy a tire iron. She is back in 15 minutes, we finish the job with a little sweat and cussing (stupid log was starting to give), and I am a very happy man. We are both filthy and sweaty. The wife produces a large water jug for us to wash our hands in. I tried to put a 20 in the man's hand but he wouldn't take it so I instead gave it to his wife as quietly as I could. I thanked them up one side and down the other. I asked the little girl where they lived, thinking maybe I could send them a gift for being so awesome. She says they live in Mexico. They are here so mommy and daddy can pick peaches for the next few weeks. After that they are going to pick cherries then go back home. She asks if I have had lunch and when I told her no she gave me a tamale from their cooler, the best fucking tamale I have ever had.
So, to clarify, a family that is undoubtedly poorer than you, me, and just about everyone else on that stretch of road, working on a seasonal basis where time is money, took an hour or two out of their day to help some strange dude on the side of the road when people in tow trucks were just passing me by. Wow...
But we aren't done yet. I thank them again and walk back to my car and open the foil on the tamale cause I am starving at this point and what do I find inside? My fucking $20 bill! I whirl around and run up to the van and the guy rolls his window down. He sees the $20 in my hand and just shaking his head no like he won't take it. All I can think to say is "Por Favor, Por Favor, Por Favor" with my hands out. Dude just smiles, shakes his head and, with what looked like great concentration, tried his hardest to speak to me in English:
"Today you.... tomorrow me."
Rolled up his window, drove away, his daughter waving to me in the rear view. I sat in my car eating the best fucking tamale of all time and I just cried. Like a little girl. It has been a rough year and nothing has broke my way. This was so out of left field I just couldn't deal.
In the 5 months since I have changed a couple of tires, given a few rides to gas stations and, once, went 50 miles out of my way to get a girl to an airport. I won't accept money. Every time I tell them the same thing when we are through:
"Today you.... tomorrow me."
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
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