Ok, I've had it.

Excuse the Thanksgiving break following my spat of posting, which itself followed a month of binge drinking. That said, I have a bone to pick. And here it is:

Christians Boycott "The Golden Compass."

Are you people serious? I thought I had fought this ignorance in the form of correcting a chain email at my office about the story, and now I find it on my internet sites. Will this crap never end? So, for the last time, I'm going to explain to you Godless... err Godfull natives why you should sit your indignant asses back down and consider boycotting something more logical. Like that rock 'n roll music, for instance; I heard it makes young people want to fornicate!

Without further insults*...

Point by Point Reasons the Boycott is Ridiculous.

1. Most of you were called to action via an email forward.
   
   
   If I knew you people reacted so strongly to email messages I would have told you about my imprisoned Nigerian uncle. You see, he has great riches, but he needs a small fee to retrieve them. I was told that you are a trustworthy person and you could help. Please just send $5,000 Canadian, and when we get the riches we wil pay U back with many many more monies!!!1!
   

   
   
   He really need s UR help!! Send money orders to: 1600 N. Liberty, Scamston, MO. Bless you, my brother.
   
   
   
2. You can watch The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe and not want to be Catholic.
   
   Watching The Golden Compass won't make you atheist. And if it does, your faith in God didn't mean anything anyway, and that you'll be just as happy as an atheist. Probably even happier since you won't be hemmed in by all those ridiculous "morals" forced upon you.
   
   And if you're worried that it will only tempt you into thinking blasphemous thoughts... well you've probably already damned yourself. You might as well see the season's best fantasy blockbuster. (You might also take up the phrase "well, I'll be damned!")
   
   
   
   Rejected Special Rebranded Edition DVD set.
   
   
   
3. All the best things are banned and boycotted against by these people.
   
   Seriously. Examine their stances on birth control, sex, legalization of pot, and video games. It's getting to the point where their disapproval is the equivalent of a ringing endorsement. I've stopped reading the entertainment pages of my paper. I just get on the internet, find out what the kooks are frothing at the mouth about and have a go at it.
   
   This method works. It's suggested fun new things to me at about 90% effectiveness. That's a better batting average than Amazon and Netflix combined.
   
   
4. Boycotting actually makes people more aware of the movie.
   
   Ok, reversing my tack from the earlier point: let's say you're silly enough to believe this movie will have adverse affects on people, and that it's insulting to the invisible man who lives in the sky. You only provide more incentive for your rebelling children to see the film by demonizing it.
   
   Also, it implies that you're of the school of thought that any dissenting idea should be quashed. This is usually the result of fear that your own ideas about life wouldn't hold up in the presence of others. If this is the case, please GO BACK AND RE-READ POINT 2!
   
   
5. Atheists didn't boycott The Passion of the Christ.
   
   Do unto others as you would have done unto you. Ringing a bell? Somewhere in some book you might have read? What was it... oh yes it was the Bible. Really, look it up. It's in there. Under "D"; for what you should "do".

So that's why you should all just calm down. After all, Atheists can't kill God! We all know that only the Jews can do that! And only at Easter.

Peace to all.

- Scott

P.S. Feel free to email this rebuttal to anyone who sends you those bullshit forwards.

*I'm afraid there was just no way I could keep this promise.

The Spaz and the Spurious

First thing is first: explaining why I can't buy beer anymore.

Driving home from work two Fridays ago I found myself with wide open(ish) roads ahead of me. I had ditched work two hours early and gone to watch a matinée. And I looked this good. Of course I was in a good place.

As it turned out, I was also passing through several places at quite a clip. I didn't care though, I'd been increasing my speed for several months in what I call the "Post-Ticket Cycle of Shame(lessness)." I made great time, but back in town someone was riding my ass. So, I slowed down another 10 miles per hour. In a 35 zone.

"Take that, dick!" I said aloud.

A few moments later said dick flipped on the cherries. It was a cop. And worse, a state cop. And worse, a woman. I find the fem-pigs are always the most angry at you for breaking whatever law you might have ignored. It's like they always followed all the rules in school while watching everyone else having a good time ditching, skipping, or ne'er do welling... and now it's pay back time.

Her attempt at pay back was the following:

Fem-Pig: *waddle waddle waddle* "Sir do you know why I pulled you over?"

Dashing Rogue (me): I thoughtfully pause, then: "Honestly, no."

FP: *exasperated, appalled, abbreviated sigh* "You were driving like a maniac. You passed three cars at once back there!"

Internally I smiled as I remembered doing it and realized why she must have pulled me over, and replied:

DR: "I don't recall doing that anywhere, how fast was I going?"

FP: *extreme embarrassment, and a look of dejection* "I... well, I don't know. I never got close enough to clock you. But I saw you at route 3 and you... blah blah blah"

She said more but I already wasn't listening. She couldn't catch me from Rt. 3 to where I was in Jerseyville?! That's eight miles. I know I was hauling ass, and my car has great ability to ignore curves, but holy shit. I outran a cop for eight miles. I was smiling externally at this point and that's where she got even more flustered.

FP: *sweating and adjusting her considerable girth* "Look, I know you were speeding. I know you were. You passed a car and then a minute later you were a mile and a half ahead of it. That's, you could have killed someone. That's absolutely unacceptable."

Now, there's no way I could have been a mile and a half ahead of a car that was already going 60 miles per hour without using NOS. But her estimate isn't that far off. It was great. She knew I broke the law and she couldn't do anything about it. I felt like I was in the mafia.

DR: *smiling wickedly, with a flourish* "If that's true, I'm sorry. I agree. Completely not acceptable. So what needs to be done, Officer?"

FP: *snippy now, and more flummoxed* "Well I think you know I can't give you a speeding ticket. I didn't clock you speeding. You're getting a following too closely citation. You can pick your license up at the court house in five working days."

And off she went. I still can't buy beer because I look so young, and my license is being held ransom until I pay my debt to society. But I don't need it, I'm still intoxicated by my accomplishment. If I had just taken the turn before town she never would have found me.

But I've learned my lesson: the next time I find myself rocking out as I play leap-frog down 109, make damn sure to keep the radar detector running... and maybe invest in a police scanner.

So, has anyone else got away with something this good during my month off?


P.S. This whole adventure reminds me... ask me about the time I went to jail. That's a post in and of itself.

Patience, Grasshopper(s).

I'm back, collective bitches. Celebrate! I just got back from the longest two weeks of my working life, the culmination of all that work I started in October. I'll explain more, but I'm actually back to my usual, slacker work schedule and actually do need to pretend to work. Often it's just as hard as doing actual work.

...Jesus, I shit you not, as soon as I typed that our manager informed us that a co-worker has had a heart attack and that one of his projects is in my lap now. So that's... just awesome. Fantastic.

In any case, my blog sabbatical worked. I'm refreshed, and I don't want to burn down this elaborate series of tubes called the internet, every time I realize I need to post. I've also got hilarious stories about the following:

• Incompetent Hospital Workers.
  
• Asshole Doctors.
  
• A very flustered State Trooper.
  
• The Detective who is sure I'm lying, but not able to prove it.
  
• Reckless driving.
  
• Made-up words.
  
• Sandwich Cults.
  
• Robots.
  
• Or get your diploma.

There'll be a post when I get home from work tonight. With photos, swearing, and the element that makes all my posts so special: love.

- Scott

Sabbatical.

The best TV comes with the cost of mid-season breaks and an off season. (Reality shows, however, have the ability to churn out shit at the same rate, forever.) The best movies come in three part trilogies. (Actually so do some of the worst...) And the best bloggers have to take a break now and then.

I can't produce any posts until November. I'm allowing a beat for that statement to sink in.

.
.
.
.

Be strong. You'll make it. And when I return, let's just say there'll be a Revolution... Yes... quite a Revolution. OK, enough foreshadowing. In the meantime, and in no particular order, let's look back at the Best of Bufford... the Wonder Blog.

• Offending the System post. Nostalgia for the kind of blatant assholery you can get away with in college, but not the workforce.
  Bonus: a comment from future-girlfriend Meg.
  
  
• Revenge of the Slytherin post. A classic featuring making fun of nerds by dressing nerdier than them.
  Bonus: You need a bonus for that? Read the GD post!
  
  
• Oh, the Hairmanity! post. An explanation of why I only get my hair cut once every three months in the same place.
  Bonus: Tim saying "hey-oh," I think there'll eventually be a drinking game to that extent.
  
  
• Tacky Triad post. My railing against mid-west truckstop couture.
  Bonus: Farmed-out photoshoppery. I outsourced that one to Rob.
  
  
• It's a twista! post. My favorite method of getting out of a lease early.
  Bonus: Lots of photos, including one of my saving an orphan.

Enjoy. I'll see you kids in November.

The Eighth Deadly Sin

Unfortunately, the 8th Deadly Sin has no simple one-word definition. But, in as few words as possible, it could be defined this way: the despising of johnny-come-latelies.

Everybody does it. Did you read that book, or like that TV show, or see the original version of that movie before everybody went ape-shit over it? If the answer is yes, then you know what I'm talking about. If the answer is no, then how does it feel to be a follower? I'm guessing: really desperate.

I'll tell you what it's like: basically you want to shout at the masses, sitting there dumbly blathering to one another about this thing that you liked first. "I liked Andrew Bird two years ago when you were listening to Dave "Gateway Drug to Adult Contemporary" Matthews! Piss off! Go back to your Top 40, assholes!*"

And that brings me to the crux. I saw Andrew Bird this weekend in Champaign and he was amazing. But I was in a bit of a foul mood as a result of waking up at 4:30 AM that morning, and being surrounded by annoying sorority skanks who are here because WPGU played his new, radio-friendly album. Still, if you ever get to see an Andrew Bird concert, do it. The man is a mix of the body type of Jack Skeleton and the insanity and passion of a savant like Willy Wonka. He also plays every instrument on his albums, and writes some of the most beautiful music, overlaid with clever lyrics.

Anyway, my question is this: as much as we want to connect with people, what have you had ruined solely by other people liking it?

- Scott

* You can also read this as "Top 40 Assholes." It's equally valid.

Crush of the Week: Hall of Fame Edition

This week's¹ Crush of the Week: Jenna Fischer.

Why she's earned it: Jenna's has had a bit of a rough year. The first major snafu that happened was, she fell down a marble staircase and broke her back. And let's face it; that sucks. That sucks a lot. Fortunately she didn't lose any, you know, walking ability. But still. She broke her fucking back. She deserves her due props just for looking great despite spinal injury.

The next major shit-storm to hit Port Jenna was that she and her husband separated. And although you might think that would make me happy, it actually doesn't. Because she's a sweet, charming girl and the separation² has to be as painful as breaking her back. If not more so.

Bonus Materials: Jenna is a special kind of girl. She's beautiful in a way that vacillates between "girl-next-door-wholesome-hot" and "holy-shit-does-she-clean-up-well-no-holds-barred-gorgeous." It's hard to switch hit both of those. Meg Ryan has been trying to break into the latter category for years. And the result was In the Cut. Clearly it's a dangerous void to attempt crossing.

But what makes Jenna truly special is her ability to play tongue-in-cheek serious to the limits of the form. The moment I heard her say, dry as a Bounce Sheet, "it's an epidemic," I knew she was Crush of the Week material³.

And so, I deluge you with a shower of Jenna.

First enjoy her photo to the right. Possibly enjoy it for several months, or until I feel like changing it.

Second, give her appearance on Loveline a listen. It makes for a great distraction while you're driving. And even better; it's conclusive proof that she can actually have a conversation. Take that, legion of vapid, boring actresses. Score another for Jenna.

Finally, there is the below. I usually don't go for this kind of video. It's too emotional, too sad, and I generally don't like to focus on the breakup part of a relationship⁴. But she's in it, she's great, and it's grown on me. Just one more example of my seeing what might be dodgy (*ahem* Blades of Glory *ahem*) on the sole basis of her involvement.



So Jenna, I know you've had a rough year. But you know how I feel, and you're the Crush of the Week. Things are looking up.

The ball's in your court now.

- Scott

¹ And who am I kidding, probably this year's Crush of the Week as well, at the rate I remember to update this damn segment.
² I can't fully appreciate the sheer metric-crap-ton of hurt that must bring, but I can tell you that it hurts me to write about it. Literally. I hurt my hand earlier today and hitting CTRL+TAB to see the correct spelling of the word "separation" each time is killing me. I'm self-medicating with beer and Tylenol.
³ Despite not creating the segment for another two years.
⁴ Exception: Brooks & Dunn - Neon Moon. There is no funnier song to belt out when you're pathetically drunk.

Memory Dump

In the style of Creed Bratton, I'm going to post a memory dump of all the things I referenced today, and thought "I should really flesh that out into a blog post." But I'm tired, so you get random Hedburg-esque nuggets of potential post material. Enjoy.

Why is it that women's fashion seems to revolve around taking what old people wore 15 years ago and slutting it up? Cases in point:

big damn sunglasses = old people "over glasses sunglasses"

the "cowl necked top" = "whatever the fuck Rue McClanahan is wearing on the left of this photo"
gauchos = old woman culottes

big assed, gaudy hoop earrings = ...big assed, gaudyhoop earrings (this one is kind of obvious)

Why is it that every time they show a violent video game on the news it's being played at 2 frames per second? If you want to show us what's causing kids to shoot each other, have the decency to play it on a NEW computer. Shell out for something to replace your Amiga. Because it looks like a very dull slideshow on that piece of shit, newsroom PC.

Reader's Digest should come with spray-able samples of air fresheners the way fashion magazines come with perfume... because no one ever reads that rag except on the crapper anyway. Might as well give a nod to your audience: people taking dump."

If I start a band we'll play only ska covers of Mexican folk music. Our name will be El Chupa-SKA-bra.

You used to always see movies where at some point the ultimate evil would show up and manically shout "THE SLEEPER HAS AWAKENED!" Haven't heard this in a long time. Have we all learned our lesson? Time will tell. Also, sleepers will, especially if they wake up.

- Scott

The Triumphant Return

Oh, I've been meaning to mention: Josh R. is back in action.

You should all give the kid a read. His posts have inspired some of my better other-blog-commenting. For instance my explanation of just what exactly it was that Mr. Roboto was being thanked for.

And it comes with the Mis Blogos Favoritos seal of approval... so you know it's good.

Check him out. I command it!

Lazy Terrorists....

Americans are obviously lazy. We've established ourselves as the most lazy nation in the world per capita. If you don't believe me, just go buy a new car-stereo. I promise you it will come with a remote control, because God forbid you do a 1/4th of a sit-up as you reach for the volume.

Don't get me wrong, though. I'm glad we're lazy. In fact, I believe it's our last line of defense against terrorists¹, and possibly our only line. Because how much faith do you have in the fine, young, drop-outs who work for the TSA securing our airports against hair gel, finger nail clippers, and mouthwash. They've started a Goddamn war on hygiene. But I digress...

No, what I put my faith in is the corrupting effect of the American lifestyle to prevent anyone getting up and saying "Hey, let's go frighten the infidels today."

I always hear about alleged terrorist cells in the States, out to do serious harm to our way of life. And presumably to terrorize us. But just what in the hell have they been doing for the last six years? I'll tell you what: eating at McDonald's, shopping at Wal-Mart, and seriously considering whether or not they can afford an H2.

The Shame Campaign: Al Qaeda, Ronald McDonald² is more terrifying than you; just ask a child. (And he likely kills more people.)

It's not that they don't want to hurt us; they do. It's just that it's so hard to find the time, and really, terrorism is such a hassle. Nobody can do the airplane thing again, because now it's passé... and to be fair nobody is really terrorized by it. Personally, in a hijacking situation, I think of myself as not unlike Wesley Snipes in Passenger 57. And that's exactly how I'd act. Because, what the hell, they're going to kill me anyway. I might as well get to live out my action movie fantasy³.

But if there really are terrorists in America, and people tell me that there are, then I think proof positive for my theory is the fact that not one car bomb has gone off in the U.S. since Tim "Honkey Infidel" McVeigh blew his truck up. Hence, there are no American Al Qaeda. Because really... that's the best tool in their arsenal. Look at Israel, do you want to take the bus there? Or go in a parking garage?

Parking garages are already fertile terroristic ground. I mean, combine loud noises with isolation, claustrophobia, and being trapped by foot thick concrete. Toss a few exploding Volkswagens in the mix and suddenly nobody goes to the mall. The economy crumbles (exception: online retail). And the terrorists bring America to its knees.

I'm sure it's been planned before. But they were going to do it on Tuesday and Abdulaziz just refuses to miss American Idol for anything. Then nobody could get their schedule to match up... and to be honest they use that mall as much as the infidels... I mean, it's got a Gap a Suncoast, and Orange Julius...

...and terrorism has been averted.

So score one for America land of the... stuff... or something. Listen, American Idol is coming on, I have to go...

¹ Another example of lazy: we've been saying "terror" attacks ever since about two days after 9/11. Jesus Christ people. It's just -ism. It's really not that much longer, and you sound less like a moron.
² Do a Google Image Search for "McDonalds" that's the sixth result.
³ This is why you see me rehearsing snappy one liners while waiting to board.

Adventures in not Working part 2

Work is a dangerous place. Bosses, coworkers, sharp objects, and unruly customers conspire to steal time away from Digg reading, Wonder Blog posting, and website founding. Sometimes, you need to protect your perimeters. Sometimes you need to protect das fathja-cube. Sometimes you just need artillery superiority to secure your position in the office.

So that's what I created. By purchasing two separate items I created a mad scientist's weapon of mass distraction. The web-cam-missile-turret. With this I can protect my cube from those that would invade it to pilfer my pens, or my make off with my markers, or do something else that alliterates.

Observe:

Before being mounted on top of an 8 foot wall with a full view of the office.


Still in the testing phase, before sighting in the crosshairs... or figuring out how to apply crosshairs. Note the missle control console to the right.


Night-vision and targeting reticle in place, I'm ready to repel any comers.

Now I've been asked why I'm setting this system up when no one is even really messing with me yet. But I have to look at it like this: my cube neighbor Josh is making his move against the desk in picture #2. I've got an aggressive expansionist on my border. I have to approach this like I'm Poland in 1939... but this time I'm prepared (and not a Pole).

I've got about a 20 foot range, and an accurately sighted in scope up to 15. Josh (late 30's Germany to my east) has a small remote controlled helicopter that's going to know what hit it when it takes one of my missiles.

So that's what I've been doing at work.


(Edit: I forgot to mention the best part. I connected my missile-turret to my desktop that I have remote access to. So I can take a sick day, stay home, and from my apartment still shoot at people. Imagine the terror when a seemingly unmanned USB Missile Launcher suddenly comes to life, turns, and fires.)

An open letter to Atlanta, GA

Dear Atlanta,

Hi. How's things?

Listen, I know we're not the best of friends... what with your insistence on calling every type of soda "Coke," and your passion for watching cars turn left for hours on end... not to mention Michael Vick...

My point is, it's not as if I needed more reasons to make fun of the south, but you've gone and decided to ban baggy pants, and the showing of underwear. Sadly including thongs and bras. What the hell are you thinking Atlanta?

Honestly, why can't you be more like Vermont? They just upheld public nudity, the god(s)-given right of everyone born... ever. Why do you think we're born that way?¹ I've my own mis-spent youth of bursting into all female parties and taking my clothes off. Sometimes also naked folk singing. That was good clean fun, and with the exception of a few girls crying (because they had never before realized their own men were so inadequate) everyone enjoyed it.

So how can you get up on your white-sheet-clad-high-horse and ban the kids from showing a little boxer? Is it suddenly illegal to wear a Speedo to go swimming? No? And it should be. But boxers (and bras and thongs) are an important part of our society. I can't count the number of times my mother has shrieked at me for walking around our front lawn in nothing but boxers and a secure sense of manliness. "Don't put our male neighbors to shame; have some modesty!" she complains.

But secretly everyone wants it to happen and you can't ignore it.

I'll conclude my argument with three points, one I think you'll agree with, one you won't understand, and one I think is undeniable.

1.) If you ban sagging pants how will you know which black people you can safely harrass? I mean, some of them can actually afford lawyers.
2.) Without legal baggy pants, low-level superhero Baggin' Saggin' Barry will have to go all Watchmen on your asses.
3.) Baggy pants? What is this 1995?

Just think it over.

- Scott

¹ Oh sure, I bet you'll argue that every once in a while a baby comes out wearing the placenta as a hat... but that's not clothes, Atlanta. And you know it.

Too busy to post, too distracted to work.

Sorry kids, but this was quite a week. I had a server go-live on Tuesday which required I wake up at 3:30 AM and work until about 6:00 PM. It was fun, but it totally f'ed my sleep cycle in the A for the rest of the week. And when my sleep is off how can I post? I reckon I can't.

And unfortunately I don't really have time to post now either, but since I love you all so much I'm making a compromise. I'll post between service calls and remote server software installs, recounting the three work things I laughed at this week. Away we go:

1.) Hour 8 of the Tuesday go-live, a transcriptionist wants to know how to use a very obvious feature of the program (second only to "play audio"). I had been through eight hours of explaining things to people that they should already know. I kind of snapped:

Me: "Step 1. Open eyes. Step 2. Point them at screen."

2.) Internet was flickering on and off to the annoyance of all. It had been down (again) for about 2 minutes when this little exchange took place.

Bryan: "Yea, Al Gore giveth and Al Gore taketh away."
Robyn: "It's back on, but for how long this time?"
Me: "We must make a sacrifice to appease Al Gore. Quickly, someone bring me an SUV! I'll build an altar."

and finally...

3.) Eavesdropping on my boss talking at her desk with a co-worker about dating a stripper.

Beth: "She has four kids? That's a lot of baggage."
Me, mumbling: "Yeah... literally."
Beth: "What?! Did you just say 'literally'?"

Me: "Yeah, if you ever take them anywhere, it's literally a lot of baggage. They all have their day pack, and their suit case, and whatever gaming system they're dragging around, and like one doll and half an old blanket... you're going to have to buy a conversion van. That's what I'm saying. Dating this chick means buying a conversion van. Just go to a dealership right now."

Overheard in New York recogonizes brilliance when it sees it.

Check out the winners of this week's headline contest over at Overhead. Notice anyone handsome? That's right, three weeks into plugging away with potential headlines one finally gets chosen. And it's about the chosen people actually. So that works out.

Unfortunately, it's only a runner-up. But give me another three weeks. I will own that signed book. Oh yes, it will be mine¹. In the mean time I have a good excuse to buy higher-priced liquor.

That's what we call a win-win. And by "we" I mean myself and my friends at the AA meetings.

¹ I might be the first person to quote Wayne's World in the last four to five years. God, what have I done?

It's already paying off.

Remember the time I got ordained?

Well that's the gift that just keeps on giving.

Employee Survey

Here at my work, we have a company wide newsletter. Once a month one special employee is interviewed and the results are published. And it looked like today was my lucky... uh... month. These are the answers exactly as I typed them. Enjoy my lazy excuse to say I posted twice this week. Also if you'd like to hope none of these offend someone who can fire me, you'd be in good company (mine).

1. Chicken: Grilled or Crispy?

This largely depends on how hot it is outside. I usually prefer grilled chicken when I’m hot, crispy when I’m cold.

2. If you could go on a cruise, where would you go?

I’d go to the Virgin Islands again. Also, what’s this “if” I could go on a cruise? Do you know something I don’t?

3. Do you snore?

No. I’ve been told I speak Spanish, curse, and sometimes yell in my sleep, but no one has ever told me I snore.

4. As a kid, were you a LEGO Builder?

I was more of a contractor. They never gave me LEGO employee status, but I was licensed to work with their product.

5. Do you chew on your straws?

Not unless it’s an actual piece of straw from a field, and I’m shirtless and barefoot wearing overalls. Other than that, no.

6. Do you sing in the shower?

Not as much (or as well) as in the car.

7. Have you ever bungee jumped?

Yes.

8. Have you ever eaten sushi?

Also yes.

9. How do you like your eggs?

Cooked by someone else.

10. Crunchy or Creamy Peanut Butter?

This depends on barometric pressure, the phase of the moon, and the stock market. But a good rule of thumb is: Crunchy for PB&J’s, Smooth for all other uses.

11. What is your favorite cartoon character?

Bender, of Futurama fame.

12. What is your *least* favorite color?

Fuchsia. Or possibly taupe. No definitely taupe. Just the sound of the name makes me want to punch somebody.

13. What food could you eat for two weeks straight?

Tuna salad. I don’t have it much, but I always eat it and think: I could probably eat this every day. Then I promptly don’t buy it for another month or so. Vicious cycle.

14. Have you ever licked a 9-volt batery?

Yes, once.

15. How many cars have you owned?

Two. Could we possibly rewrite this question as "how many noobs have you pwned?" Because I'd have funnier answers for that.

16. Are you right-handed or left-handed?

Right handed. Although I bowl left.

17. What country would you most like to visit?

Greece. It has the highest plastic-covered sofa per capita in the world and the most mispronounced ethnic food in the world. (The gyro.)

18. Cheerios or Corn Flakes?

Cheerios. It’s like an English person greeting me every time I take out the box.

19.What is on your PC Wallpaper?

A hi-res image of Earth taken from a satellite.

20. Do you believe in life on other planets?

Of course.

21. Finish this sentence - Isn't it weird that...

…rats are hunted but squirrels get a free ride. Don’t you see?! They’re slowly invading!

22. How many pillows do you sleep with?

Well, that’s very private. But I will say that I’ve been seeing an memory foam pillow lately and so far everything’s going well. We’ve got a date on Friday, actually. Maybe ask me again Monday.

23. Using the first letter of your first name:
- City
- Something you find in the bathroom
- Something you find in the sea

• Seattle
• Shampoo
• Seal Clubbers
  

24. What is your favorite carnival ride?

My favorite ride was always the Rocko Planes. You just don’t see them anymore, so I guess carnies have a better way of turning people upside down to shake out their change. A shame really… it was the only ride where you had a little bit of control.

Movin' up in the world.

I'm a fan of stereotypes. This is not, necessarily, to say that I'm a bad person. I just like to look at the elements that make up a person's life and come to a conclusion about them based solely on that information. This doesn't always appear to be accurate, but it almost always contains a few grains of truth.

For instance, until I was kindly and nicely thrown out of my last job, I was driving this:

Little acknowledged fact: Driving this car automatically signs you up for the AARP newsletter.

Sometimes when I drove this car I even smoked a pipe. And complained about the music the kids listen to. As a result of my car and my habits, I was demographically an old man in all but age and sex appeal. But as I said I got fired, and had a little quarter life crisis. I ditched the firm, wore flip flops and bought a new car (the wisest financial strategy when you have no income.)

Behold: Tom.

That's right. It's a Celica... named Tom. If you still don't get it, mouse-over for a hint.

New car, new license plate (ALT TAB), and a distinct lack of old person-osity. So now I skew young, irresponsible, wildly good looking, and nerdy. I believe that with time, I can live with this.

Another quick one to prove the theory:

My brother used to drive an old Dodge Ram, chew tobacco, and drink keystone. He was, demographically, a rural Midwestern college student. And probably a farmer.

But recently, he's taken out a loan to buy a motorcycle. He smokes menthol cigarettes, and he drinks malt liquor. My brother has become an inner city black man. Q.E.D. The theory works.

Bum Love

Read this story: Homeless Couple Charged With Having Sex On Median During Rush Hour.

Now, is anyone else noticing an upswing in the homeless couple stories? I've read three in the last month. Is there some kind of hoboHarmony.com site out there or something? How are these people hooking up?

In my entire life, I've never seen bums on a date. In fact, I've rarely seen two homeless people in the same place¹. So when it happens... of COURSE they're going to have to just kind of go with it and take their time².

And really, what else are they supposed to do when they go out? 'Za and a movie is probably going to be out of the question, unless Dominoes is throwing something out and there's a drive-in within walking distance.

My point is this: hobos are dating more, and their options are limited. This instance is just another example of the Drifter Dating cliche "Your place or min... oh yeah. So then... screw in the street?"

We're all just going to have to adapt.


¹ Exception: under overpasses/soup kitchens. I go there for the soup, but I stay for the conversation. The bat-shit crazy, disjointed conversation.

² The stigma attached to homeless men getting 'there' too soon is intense. In street culture it is known as the "Bum's Rush" and hobos make fun of each other mercilessly over this.

A Fox News Exclusive

Recently it was discovered that the Fox News website left it's image directory open. I was wandering through, enjoying the blatant and ridiculous rabble-rousing when I came upon the mother-load. I believe they were saving this one sweeps, but I think that it's a story everyone needs to be aware of.



CALL YOUR SENATOR! The liberals must be stopped!

Harry Potter and the Slow News Cycle

Now that the book has been leaked to the internet there have been a number of sites posting spoilers to Harry Potter. I accidentally saw one that didn't ruin anything for me. But it might have. And you all might be spoiled as well. SO to protect my readers here's a long list of fake spoilers that I've created. Hopefully if you actually come across a real spoiler you'll forget it and/or get it confused with one of mine.

1.) Nymphadora Tonks is a man. As a metamorphmagus she can change her form. And if she can change her form HOW DO WE KNOW SHE'S NOT A MAN?! We don't. This is Rowling's bid for a homosexual relationship (between 'her' and Lupin)

2.) Hedwig is a Horcrux. That's right, Harry's bird was a plant from Voldemort. He has long had knowledge of Hagrid's penchant for Snowy Owls, and had his minions place the bird in Diagon Alley every time Hagrid was in the shop. Eventually it was purchased for Harry. It will be one of the most wrenching parts of the book when Ol' Potter has to destroy his beloved pet... and that's what Voldy wanted.

3.) The Sorting Hat is in a sexual relationship with Professor Trelawny. Nobody saw that one coming!

4.) House Elves are actually just wizarding children with Progeria.

5.) Harry becomes an Animagus. He changes quickly, and accidentally, while under extreme stress as he fights Death Eaters. Unfortunately, his form is a dolphin . The Death Eaters summon a tuna trawler and capture him, struggling, in a net.

6.) Snape is neither good or or evil. Just bored. In fact, he doesn't even appear in this volume having taken a position with the Peace Corps in South America to "find himself."

7.) Hermione overdoses on speed which she was taking to keep studying. Later it's revealed that the speed was actually caffeine pills, and her overdose consisted of sloppily singing "I'm so excited." Harry calls a "time out" and we all learn an important lesson about drugs.

8.) Voldemort is a Scientologist. Turns out his "horcruxes" were just body thetans he had to remove from himself to become pure again. He was just realizing the potential of a human mind free from psychology. A rumor in the Daily Prophet said he was a Hare Krishna, but Voldemort set them straight: "Oh sure, sure. Just because I'm bald and I wore an orange robe once that makes me a Hare Krishna. Listen, I wear robes. Sometimes I get tired of black. I know I'm the Dark Lord it's just... you know what, screw this. Avada Kedavra!"

9.) It's all been a dream. The last page is Harry waking up and finding himself 11 years old and living under the stairs at the Dursley's. He promptly hangs himself.

And that's what happens in the last book.

One last time.

The Wonder Blog is not Captain Kirk's personal log, is it? No. Am I the guy from Memento? Another no. Am I even Doogie Houser? A qualified no, since I'm perpetually ahead of expectations and ridiculously good looking, but no. The Wonder Blog is not a journal. Remembering that, I'm going to stop treating it as such and get back to making fun of pop culture.

...but. One last time, because I have 10 minutes to kill.

What I've been doing today:

Seriously, I do this all the time.