The actual text
(flavor context added after)
Top 1st:
Great, I have to watch the Sox on strikezone cause Joe Nathan can't pitch.
Good Jacoby, work that pitch count. It's ok, you worked that pitch count.
WTF was that DP? God damn it. Play like an MVP
Again, it's ok if you work the pitch count Victor.
(I was watching on MLB.coms strikezone. You see the typical early hopefulness of a fan at the beginning. Concern with working the pitch count, etc.)
Bottom 1st:
Sweet Jesus does this ump know what a strike zone is?
Nevermind, he does.
Three up, three down in 12 pitches? I can live with it. Good work Joshie.
(Standard first inning, I'm still feeling good.)
Top Second:
MOTHERFUCKING TWINS LEFT NATHAN IN. ARE YOU TRYING TO LOSE? HE'S SHAKEN GET HIM OUT OF THERE. FUCKING YANKEES.
I can't even watch Ortiz anymore. It hurts my heart.
No way that was a ball.
I guess pitching duels aren't that bad...
(Here we see the patented late game anger being worked in on the separate Twins Yanks game. I treat David Oritz like a loved one who has died. All i can do is cherish the memories.)
Bottom Second:
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING NATHAN? WORST PICKOFF ATTEMPT EVER.
Finally, Nathan you suck.
Good work Beckett.
(I still agree with this, Joe Nathan was terrible)
Top Third:
SUCK IT YANKEES, NICE HIT JOHNNY HAHAHAHAHA!
Wow, so fail call by the ref. Luckily Joe still grabbed a single.
Jesus, Where the fuck are the hitters? This game might be over before the Twins-Yanks.
(Early displeasure with the red sox offense begins to leak in. Though there is momentary elation with the Yankees woes.)
Bottom Third:
Learn to hit Delmon Young. God damn it... I'm not gonna be able to watch the sox.
First hit, Unfortunately not us...
FUCKING TWINS. God I hate the Yankees.
Good stuff Beckett, keep it up.
(I watch the Twins blow a bases loaded nobody out situation. I'm not happy. That will carry over to later that game.)
Top Fourth:
Ugh, Walk off for the Yanks. Gross. It's like if the refs had made the proper call earlier the game would be totally different. Oh wait. At least i can actually watch the Sox.
FUCK YEAH JACOBY ELLSBURY!
BOOOM! RUNS BABY!
God, Ortiz. Just... God...
(I'm angry about the Yankees win. Fortunately, we see the Red Sox generate points. The last time I will be happy in this game. Again we see the corpse of Ortiz stand in the box and watch the ball go by. Trouble is brewing.)
Bottom Fourth:
Uh oh, if abreu can hit...
Oh dear... first and third.
Fuck. Well one run in four innings is pretty good. That's a 2.50 ERA...
(We call this denial. That last line. The angel have found their stride. This is where I begin buliding toward rage blackout.)
Top Fifth:
I swear to god if if see one more avacodo ad...
OH GOD THAT WAS CLOSE. CHIN UP JASON, I'd still bone you.
God Gonzalez. You really can't hit... At all. Die slowly.
(The first death wish of the night. I will it to Alex Gonzalez for a particularly terrible at bat.)
Bottom Fifth:
Beckett, I want to fellate you. If that's not a word, it is now.
(I'm still in love with Beckett for keeping us in the game. I still might fellate him.)
Top Sixth:
Wow, Just wow. Who let my dad's softball team out into the batter's box. And why are they wearing red sox uniforms?
We are going to lose this game... Ugh.
(Terrible realization begins to dawn on me. I know where this is going. Rage will build even more quickly.)
Bottom Sixth:
I've never thought that whether or not I was gay was an issue for me. Beckett's making me rethink that. I wish I was kidding.
(Again, Beckett's pitching provides a glimmer of hope, the last I will see.)
Top Seventh:
One Pitch One Out... Yep, sounds like the 2009 Ortiz
How the fuck is Weaver not tiring? He's thrown 103... FOUL JASON BAY!!! FOUL LIKE THE WIND!
A BASERUNNER! HOLY SHIT!!!
ahhh that's more like the postseason sox I know. A weak ass fly out. Perfect.
(And we reach angry sarcasm. It's all downhill from here.)
Bottom Seventh:
Uh oh, since when does josh beckett throw balls?
Wagner's warming... Why? Beckett has thrown 87. This is the bullshit that loses us games.
GOD DAMN IT! FUCKING COCK SUCKING SOX CAN"T PROVIDE ANY FUCKING RUN SUPPORT AND NOW WE ARE LOSING!!!
MIKE NAPOLI IS A FAT SACK OF SHIT FUCKING HANGING OVER THE PLATE
Why do I like these fuck heads?.... Why....
Thank god...It's over.
(Here is the turning point in my spirit breaking. My only light was Beckett. Then it was dashed.)
Top Eighth
Wow... Dear god. Three pitch strikeout. Awesome work Jed Lowrie.
HOLY SHIT A HIT!!! Jacoby Ellsbury=the only red sox member to show up.
Wow, just FUCKING WOW. How the fuck did we make the playoffs.
(Now I'm hurt. The angry hurt of the fan of an underperforming sports team.)
Bottom Eighth
Go sit down Billy Wagner, and you think long and hard about what you've done.
Please Pap,... Save Us...
Ok, ok three runs isn't that bad. Let's go! Time to pull the thumb out of the ass.
(Note the false hope. Delirious off of the Moxie I have been drinking and nearing a rage blackout, I start talking crazy.)
Top Ninth
Oh god, the fly out. One down... COME ON!!!!
THERE WE FUCKING GO YOUK!!!!! DOUBLE CITY!!!
Oh dear... It's Ortiz. Please dear god, no double play...
Ugh, ortiz.... why... one out away...
Save us Jason Bay. SAVE US!!!
Oh thank god, a walk. I LIKE MIKE! LET'S GO LOWELL!!!!
MOTHERFUCKING GOD DAMN SHIT EATING RED SOX YOU GUYS CAN"T HIT SHIT AT ALL EVER. YOU SHOULD ALL GO JUMP OFF A CLIFF LEST YOU PROCREATE YOU BAGS OF SHIT. YOU ALWAYS RUIN MY FUCKING NIGHT WITH YOUR SHIT EATING TRUCKLOAD OF FAIL.
(And there it is. Red Sox's Nation's feelings summed up. One game away from elimination. Oh boy.)
Sunday, October 11, 2009
If Edward Cullen were a real dude.
Phone Conversation between Edward and Bella. 2:46am
Edward: (away from the phone) Jasper just give the fucking shot to someone else, Bella is calling. (into phone) Hello?
Bella: Edward where the hell are you?
Edward: I'm out with Jasper and Emmett, like I said tonight when I left.
Bella: You said you'd be back by 12.
Edward: What does it matter? Why are you waiting up, so we can go to sleep together? Oh wait...
Bella: You are such an ass. You used to like watching me sleep.
Edward: When you slept, and you weren't putting out.
Bella: Charming, you are so drunk.
Edward: Are you being such a bitch cause I didn't invite your gay friend? Jason Brown or whatever? I said he could have one of my fakes. God knows I have gotten enough over the years. Just some of them are like 40 years expired. And you know... He's an Indian and I'm not.
Bella: It's Jacob, he's a Native American, and he's not gay.
Edward: Right, and the pope's protestant. No one grows their hair that long and dyes their teeth that white if they don't play for the other team.
Bella: Shut up Edward. You used to play piano, not sit around playing Halo all day. You used to care about me and Nessie.
Edward: 1.) I'm level 50, and one of the best Halo players in the world. You should be proud. 2.) And you used to be younger then me and smell like some kick-ass barbecue spare ribs, but you don't see me bitching.
Bella: (starts crying)
Edward: Yeah, go ahead cry, that's real mature. Jesus, what did you do slam a whole bottle of wine?
Bella: (sobbing) You can drink, so I can too.
Edward: Your supposed to be watching Nessie. Shit, we'll discuss this when I get home. Emmett's getting blacked out and he's totally gonna drink the blood of this girl who's totally busted.
Bella: I know what you are doing (hiccups). Reading the minds of those whores at the clubs just to get some ass. You cheating dick.
Edward: (away from phone) Jasper, I'm going to need you to calm her down when we get back. You know Alice and Rosalie don't pull this shit.
Bella: Fuck you, don't bother looking for me when you get back. I'll be at La Push.
Edward: Yeah, have fun straightening his hair. (hangs up)
Bouncer: 17, huh?
Edward: No, haha I was just playing.
Bouncer: Either way I see your body glitter in the strobes. That doesn't fly here. You're out.
Edward: (away from the phone) Jasper just give the fucking shot to someone else, Bella is calling. (into phone) Hello?
Bella: Edward where the hell are you?
Edward: I'm out with Jasper and Emmett, like I said tonight when I left.
Bella: You said you'd be back by 12.
Edward: What does it matter? Why are you waiting up, so we can go to sleep together? Oh wait...
Bella: You are such an ass. You used to like watching me sleep.
Edward: When you slept, and you weren't putting out.
Bella: Charming, you are so drunk.
Edward: Are you being such a bitch cause I didn't invite your gay friend? Jason Brown or whatever? I said he could have one of my fakes. God knows I have gotten enough over the years. Just some of them are like 40 years expired. And you know... He's an Indian and I'm not.
Bella: It's Jacob, he's a Native American, and he's not gay.
Edward: Right, and the pope's protestant. No one grows their hair that long and dyes their teeth that white if they don't play for the other team.
Bella: Shut up Edward. You used to play piano, not sit around playing Halo all day. You used to care about me and Nessie.
Edward: 1.) I'm level 50, and one of the best Halo players in the world. You should be proud. 2.) And you used to be younger then me and smell like some kick-ass barbecue spare ribs, but you don't see me bitching.
Bella: (starts crying)
Edward: Yeah, go ahead cry, that's real mature. Jesus, what did you do slam a whole bottle of wine?
Bella: (sobbing) You can drink, so I can too.
Edward: Your supposed to be watching Nessie. Shit, we'll discuss this when I get home. Emmett's getting blacked out and he's totally gonna drink the blood of this girl who's totally busted.
Bella: I know what you are doing (hiccups). Reading the minds of those whores at the clubs just to get some ass. You cheating dick.
Edward: (away from phone) Jasper, I'm going to need you to calm her down when we get back. You know Alice and Rosalie don't pull this shit.
Bella: Fuck you, don't bother looking for me when you get back. I'll be at La Push.
Edward: Yeah, have fun straightening his hair. (hangs up)
Bouncer: 17, huh?
Edward: No, haha I was just playing.
Bouncer: Either way I see your body glitter in the strobes. That doesn't fly here. You're out.
Swine Flu-A Poem by Sam Sheehan-Based on Twas The Night Before Christmas
Twas the night before Monday, a time for football,
We were sitting round the TV, from shortest to tall
Our picks had been made through Yahoo sports with great care
With hopes that Clinton Portis would perform better than fair.
The last thing we wanted was to go sleep in our beds,
With the promise of concussions to the players heads.
With Joe in his t-shirt and I in my cap,
I suddenly realized I felt like crap.
While they talked of which linesman was obviously fatter,
I ran to my bathroom to find out what was the matter.
I searched myself in the mirror for maybe a rash,
Maybe the hooker wasn't worth the No-STD cash.
I was shivering like a was standing outside in snow,
and I felt really out of it like I had done some blow.
As i realized it probably wasn't alchohol or beer,
I realized it may be CNN's greatest fear.
Since both Mike and I were feeling quite sick.
We went to the hospital and got there quite quick
They sat us in the waiting room and called us by name,
We waited 2 hours, which was really quite lame.
We got in the ER with other people who needed fixin'.
They put in rooms where our germs wouldn't be mixin'.
Mike, my good friend, was the first one to fall.
He was told he had swine flu by the doctor on call.
"While it's unlikely swine flu will cause you to die,
It will cause enough discomfort to make you cry"
When they told me what I has was also swine flu
I said "I heard you talking, I already knew"
We both had privately hoped there was a goof.
Hospitals diagnose swine flu to pay for their roof.
But alas it was true, there was nothing to be found,
Just sit in our rooms, recover, and mostly sit around
Now outside of our house, we aren't allowed to set foot,
We must wait for our friends to bring us some fruit.
Now I feel like someone who was addicted to smack,
who's going through withdrawal after they quit the crack.
The last thing I am now is jolly, happy, or merry.
Though, my Robutissin looks like it's made out cherry.
My stomach is tied up like a giant Christmas bow.
After eating my food that is brought to me by Joe.
Everything is achy including my teeth,
My skin feels like it's crawling, way down underneath.
Aside from the sore skin and my aching belly,
I'm denied contact with those whom I am friendly.
I suppose this is self pity I place on myself,
For the evil disease that fucked over my health.
So as I lay here in my disease ridden bed.
My I leave these thoughts instilled in your head.
Rhyming a poem to another is really hard work,
and swine flu sucks so don't spread it you jerk.
As I think to myself every time I blow my nose,
Swine flu fucks you up, from your ears to your toes.
As I'm here in quarantine, listening to the train station's whistles,
I'll poke you on facebook, then message you if that fizzles.
I leave you with this, before another sleepless night,
Taylor's video rocked, Kanye's not right.
We were sitting round the TV, from shortest to tall
Our picks had been made through Yahoo sports with great care
With hopes that Clinton Portis would perform better than fair.
The last thing we wanted was to go sleep in our beds,
With the promise of concussions to the players heads.
With Joe in his t-shirt and I in my cap,
I suddenly realized I felt like crap.
While they talked of which linesman was obviously fatter,
I ran to my bathroom to find out what was the matter.
I searched myself in the mirror for maybe a rash,
Maybe the hooker wasn't worth the No-STD cash.
I was shivering like a was standing outside in snow,
and I felt really out of it like I had done some blow.
As i realized it probably wasn't alchohol or beer,
I realized it may be CNN's greatest fear.
Since both Mike and I were feeling quite sick.
We went to the hospital and got there quite quick
They sat us in the waiting room and called us by name,
We waited 2 hours, which was really quite lame.
We got in the ER with other people who needed fixin'.
They put in rooms where our germs wouldn't be mixin'.
Mike, my good friend, was the first one to fall.
He was told he had swine flu by the doctor on call.
"While it's unlikely swine flu will cause you to die,
It will cause enough discomfort to make you cry"
When they told me what I has was also swine flu
I said "I heard you talking, I already knew"
We both had privately hoped there was a goof.
Hospitals diagnose swine flu to pay for their roof.
But alas it was true, there was nothing to be found,
Just sit in our rooms, recover, and mostly sit around
Now outside of our house, we aren't allowed to set foot,
We must wait for our friends to bring us some fruit.
Now I feel like someone who was addicted to smack,
who's going through withdrawal after they quit the crack.
The last thing I am now is jolly, happy, or merry.
Though, my Robutissin looks like it's made out cherry.
My stomach is tied up like a giant Christmas bow.
After eating my food that is brought to me by Joe.
Everything is achy including my teeth,
My skin feels like it's crawling, way down underneath.
Aside from the sore skin and my aching belly,
I'm denied contact with those whom I am friendly.
I suppose this is self pity I place on myself,
For the evil disease that fucked over my health.
So as I lay here in my disease ridden bed.
My I leave these thoughts instilled in your head.
Rhyming a poem to another is really hard work,
and swine flu sucks so don't spread it you jerk.
As I think to myself every time I blow my nose,
Swine flu fucks you up, from your ears to your toes.
As I'm here in quarantine, listening to the train station's whistles,
I'll poke you on facebook, then message you if that fizzles.
I leave you with this, before another sleepless night,
Taylor's video rocked, Kanye's not right.
I Single Handedly Write the Next Big Comedy
For the past two hours, as I packed myself up for my long journey home, I watched 40 Year Old Virgin which I thought I hadn't seen before, but it turns out I have. When it wrapped up, I started thinking about the comedic movie scene and tried to figure out how on Earth (as it's what I've always wanted to do with my life) I could possibly write something that funny. Then I started to look at some of my favorite comedies of the past two years and I began to see base sets and formulas for writing a successful comedic script.
First you need a story line. 90% of the comedies I love come from one of two groups of actors. There is the Will Ferrell set (Vince Vaughn, Owen Wilson, John C. Reilly, Ben Stiller, Luke Wilson) and the Seth Rogen set (Jonah Hill, Paul Rudd, Jason Segel, Bill Hader). These sometimes, but rarely, overlap (Stepbrothers). Even more rare is that a decent comedy comes out that doesn't contain one of these guys (The Hangover).
Upon closer inspection I've found that these groups have a set common theme for each of their movies. The Will Ferrell set formula is "protagonists have odd or strange occupation or hobby that is threatened in the movie by an antagonist and then resolved". These movies are characterized by humorous plays on exaggeration and heavy quotability. (Zoolander, Wedding Crashers, Old School, Starsky and Hutch, Dodgeball, Anchorman, Stepbrothers.)
On the other hand the Seth Rogen set is "normal guys deal with a life trouble everyone eventually has and have a strange time while doing it" (Pineapple Express exception) Seth Rogen comedies are characterized by their unabashed, raunchy, dude talk and snappy dialogue combined with real-life elements that most people experience. (Superbad, 40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, I Love You Man.)
So let's make a movie! We'll go with the Seth Rogen set. So now we need a life trouble. Let's say the protagonist is fresh out of college and the movie is about his job search. Well, here is a selection from the script as Ryan (Jonah Hill and the protagonist) talks to his older brother (Seth Rogen) about the job search.
JOHN: How the hell could they not hire me? I went to Princeton, for fuck's sake. You know who went to Princeton? Fucking Woodrow Wilson, Ethan Cohen, even fucking Aaron Burr. Princeton blew Hamilton's head off his body and onto the ten.
MIKE: Did you wear those pants?
JOHN: Yeah
MIKE: Jesus, no wonder they didn't hire you.
JOHN: What's wrong with these pants? I got them at Men's Wearhouse.
MIKE: For one, It looks like you got them at a Men's Bathouse. They are the exact color of jizz.
JOHN: They are not the color of jizz. Jizz is a darker shade of cream.
MIKE: Have you ever seen jizz before? Do you even look into the tissue when your are done beating it?
JOHN: What? Why in fuck would I do that?
MIKE: What if something's wrong? What if there's blood in it or it comes out clear?
JOHN: Jesus!
MIKE: No bro, I'm serious. Checking the condition of your load is an important part of health. My friend Cal died of Ferringhopper's disease. Easy to deal with if they catch it early. But the only symptom is blood in the jizz. Strawberry cheesecake, is street name the doctors gave that symptom. Anyway if Cal had just taken a look inside the paper after flogging the dolphin, maybe he'd be here today. I thought I had it once. Turns out I was just a little hard on the old yogurt slinger.
JOHN: Well, until the high schools put out the "Your Jizz and You" informational videos for Health class I'm going to stick to the blind trial. And I doubt my pants being your shade of Jizz had anything to do with it.
I wrote it at three in the morning, so the jokes aren't the best. However, you get the point... Have a crazy job or hobby that you think might work as a movie? Try the Will Ferrell formula.
As you can see anyone can make a funny comedy. Come on America! Put your minds to it and write some funny movies.
First you need a story line. 90% of the comedies I love come from one of two groups of actors. There is the Will Ferrell set (Vince Vaughn, Owen Wilson, John C. Reilly, Ben Stiller, Luke Wilson) and the Seth Rogen set (Jonah Hill, Paul Rudd, Jason Segel, Bill Hader). These sometimes, but rarely, overlap (Stepbrothers). Even more rare is that a decent comedy comes out that doesn't contain one of these guys (The Hangover).
Upon closer inspection I've found that these groups have a set common theme for each of their movies. The Will Ferrell set formula is "protagonists have odd or strange occupation or hobby that is threatened in the movie by an antagonist and then resolved". These movies are characterized by humorous plays on exaggeration and heavy quotability. (Zoolander, Wedding Crashers, Old School, Starsky and Hutch, Dodgeball, Anchorman, Stepbrothers.)
On the other hand the Seth Rogen set is "normal guys deal with a life trouble everyone eventually has and have a strange time while doing it" (Pineapple Express exception) Seth Rogen comedies are characterized by their unabashed, raunchy, dude talk and snappy dialogue combined with real-life elements that most people experience. (Superbad, 40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, I Love You Man.)
So let's make a movie! We'll go with the Seth Rogen set. So now we need a life trouble. Let's say the protagonist is fresh out of college and the movie is about his job search. Well, here is a selection from the script as Ryan (Jonah Hill and the protagonist) talks to his older brother (Seth Rogen) about the job search.
JOHN: How the hell could they not hire me? I went to Princeton, for fuck's sake. You know who went to Princeton? Fucking Woodrow Wilson, Ethan Cohen, even fucking Aaron Burr. Princeton blew Hamilton's head off his body and onto the ten.
MIKE: Did you wear those pants?
JOHN: Yeah
MIKE: Jesus, no wonder they didn't hire you.
JOHN: What's wrong with these pants? I got them at Men's Wearhouse.
MIKE: For one, It looks like you got them at a Men's Bathouse. They are the exact color of jizz.
JOHN: They are not the color of jizz. Jizz is a darker shade of cream.
MIKE: Have you ever seen jizz before? Do you even look into the tissue when your are done beating it?
JOHN: What? Why in fuck would I do that?
MIKE: What if something's wrong? What if there's blood in it or it comes out clear?
JOHN: Jesus!
MIKE: No bro, I'm serious. Checking the condition of your load is an important part of health. My friend Cal died of Ferringhopper's disease. Easy to deal with if they catch it early. But the only symptom is blood in the jizz. Strawberry cheesecake, is street name the doctors gave that symptom. Anyway if Cal had just taken a look inside the paper after flogging the dolphin, maybe he'd be here today. I thought I had it once. Turns out I was just a little hard on the old yogurt slinger.
JOHN: Well, until the high schools put out the "Your Jizz and You" informational videos for Health class I'm going to stick to the blind trial. And I doubt my pants being your shade of Jizz had anything to do with it.
I wrote it at three in the morning, so the jokes aren't the best. However, you get the point... Have a crazy job or hobby that you think might work as a movie? Try the Will Ferrell formula.
As you can see anyone can make a funny comedy. Come on America! Put your minds to it and write some funny movies.
Ipod content- a song is worth a thousand words... or one hundred and seventy three.
It's currently about 1:30 in the morning EST, and I'm having the worst time sleeping ever. What do I do? I go to the Ipod to see if there is anything in there that will soothe me into a peaceful slumber. While listening to Chris Martin sing about the Osaka sun, I realize that there is something to be said for people and what they have on their Ipod versus how you perceive them. If you went on a date with a girl and the first song she want to listen to during the ride over is David Banner's "Play", It's likely going to throw you for a loop. When given choice of musical selection, be it in the car, in a party situation, etc., you can usually tell a lot from them based on their selection. I've compiled a small list of what you can expect from the typical party situation.
Sugar Ray- Fuck yes, I grew up in the nineties!
Dave Matthews Band (to a lesser extent, Jack Johnson.) - This is such a sweet jam, pass me a brewski would you bro?
Death Cab for Cutie - I don't really know a lot about music, but I want to seem like I know my way about the indie music world.
Lady Gaga - I want to make bad decisions tonight.
Bob Marley - I want to find out who else in the room smokes.
Ratt - All of my musical taste comes from my dad.
Any Disney Song - I want everyone to sing a long except those who didn't have a childhood whom I want to feel awkward.
Dropkick Murphys - Who here is from Boston?
The Fray - I want you to ask me what I'm sad about.
Green Day (recent)- I want to talk about politics with someone. Let's see if I can goad any Republicans here into asking me why I put this on.
Sean Paul - I don't know the words to many songs, so I might as well put on something that no one knows the words to.
Akon - I've been stuck having to pick the next song at the party and need something to put on.
Fall Out Boy - I've just had a terrible lapse in judgement. Fall Out Boy is like masturbation. Only by yourself, and never talk about it.
Vengaboys - I want this night to turn into a middle school dance.
Coldplay - Hmmm, what's something everyone agrees on... Oh! Here we are.
Afroman - I want to know who is here to party and who isn't.
Haddaway - I need an obnoxious dance move that everyone here will recognize, but that other guy already did the dice roll from Knocked Up...
Journey - I want other people to sing with me.
Katy Perry - I need to counter the Lady Gaga that other person put on.
Boy Bands (Backstreet Boys, N'SYNC, LFO) - I want to talk to this girl about how much we loved this song when we were little. Remember to work in that you liked it even though the other boys gave you a hard time.
The Dream - I am a Chris Brown fan who was devastated by his fall from grace. I'm letting this clown try to fill his shoes the best I can.
Basshunter - I want to get a dance party started.
My Chemical Romance - I want to get kicked out of this party.
Rhianna - I'm about 6 months behind the times.
Lonley Island - I think things are funnier for way longer than everyone else does.
Rick Astley - I'm an avid internet user and an asshole to boot. I trolled this party cause i'm 1337.
Moldy Peaches - I want to talk about Juno.
Jim Jones - Someone on the ruit table wanted a "good song to shoot to".
Nelly Furtado (early) - I'm a nice girl who loves the positive messages being provided to me by Ms. Furtado through her artistic music.
Nelly Furtado (late) - I'm down to get down. Getting me and drink and telling me you like the way I move will totally work.
Nickelback- I ate lead as a child. Like pounds of the stuff.
The Outthere Brothers - I need an excuse to go rub myself against that girl.
Taylor Swift (excluding Love Story, as that is actually known relatively well) - The boys here look like they are having too much fun. Let's make them feel a little awkward.
Crazy Town - I know and understand music and what people like to listen to.
The Killers - Hi, I'm Sam Sheehan and I'm the only person who will ever try to put on The Killers in a party situation.
Sugar Ray- Fuck yes, I grew up in the nineties!
Dave Matthews Band (to a lesser extent, Jack Johnson.) - This is such a sweet jam, pass me a brewski would you bro?
Death Cab for Cutie - I don't really know a lot about music, but I want to seem like I know my way about the indie music world.
Lady Gaga - I want to make bad decisions tonight.
Bob Marley - I want to find out who else in the room smokes.
Ratt - All of my musical taste comes from my dad.
Any Disney Song - I want everyone to sing a long except those who didn't have a childhood whom I want to feel awkward.
Dropkick Murphys - Who here is from Boston?
The Fray - I want you to ask me what I'm sad about.
Green Day (recent)- I want to talk about politics with someone. Let's see if I can goad any Republicans here into asking me why I put this on.
Sean Paul - I don't know the words to many songs, so I might as well put on something that no one knows the words to.
Akon - I've been stuck having to pick the next song at the party and need something to put on.
Fall Out Boy - I've just had a terrible lapse in judgement. Fall Out Boy is like masturbation. Only by yourself, and never talk about it.
Vengaboys - I want this night to turn into a middle school dance.
Coldplay - Hmmm, what's something everyone agrees on... Oh! Here we are.
Afroman - I want to know who is here to party and who isn't.
Haddaway - I need an obnoxious dance move that everyone here will recognize, but that other guy already did the dice roll from Knocked Up...
Journey - I want other people to sing with me.
Katy Perry - I need to counter the Lady Gaga that other person put on.
Boy Bands (Backstreet Boys, N'SYNC, LFO) - I want to talk to this girl about how much we loved this song when we were little. Remember to work in that you liked it even though the other boys gave you a hard time.
The Dream - I am a Chris Brown fan who was devastated by his fall from grace. I'm letting this clown try to fill his shoes the best I can.
Basshunter - I want to get a dance party started.
My Chemical Romance - I want to get kicked out of this party.
Rhianna - I'm about 6 months behind the times.
Lonley Island - I think things are funnier for way longer than everyone else does.
Rick Astley - I'm an avid internet user and an asshole to boot. I trolled this party cause i'm 1337.
Moldy Peaches - I want to talk about Juno.
Jim Jones - Someone on the ruit table wanted a "good song to shoot to".
Nelly Furtado (early) - I'm a nice girl who loves the positive messages being provided to me by Ms. Furtado through her artistic music.
Nelly Furtado (late) - I'm down to get down. Getting me and drink and telling me you like the way I move will totally work.
Nickelback- I ate lead as a child. Like pounds of the stuff.
The Outthere Brothers - I need an excuse to go rub myself against that girl.
Taylor Swift (excluding Love Story, as that is actually known relatively well) - The boys here look like they are having too much fun. Let's make them feel a little awkward.
Crazy Town - I know and understand music and what people like to listen to.
The Killers - Hi, I'm Sam Sheehan and I'm the only person who will ever try to put on The Killers in a party situation.
You're Staying, Too!?! - A Guide to Summers in Providence
You've done it! Whether it be to take classes, perform research, work a job, sell drugs, or do absolutely nothing, you're staying in Providence for the summer! However, Providence is a very different place in the summer than it is during the school year. Luckily, if you were worried about these differences and how you could possibly deal with them, I've assembled a little guide to explain the differences and how to adjust.
1. High Schoolers - With summers at Colleges comes summer programs. With summer programs come high schoolers. Should you be approached by group of High Schoolers, put your head down, don't make eye contact, and avoid mentioning Entourage (guys) or One Tree Hill (girls). In a worst case scenario, they find out that you are a college student, and want to ask you some borderline retarded questions about school. (Do you buy the books for your classes? Are there boys in this school? When is the curfew? Are you allowed to drink alcohol here? Are there seasons here?). Simply remain calm, and don't strangle the little bastards to death. I've pioneered these foolproof ways to lose them.
(a) This is for guys to use. Tell them that they all seem really cool for high schoolers. Invite them to a house party and tell them to bring all the girls they know and not "too many dudes". Ask them if they know what rohypnol is. If someone correctly identifies it as roofies, tell them that it only does that to dudes and that girls can drink it with no effects. Anyone left listening to you after that, is batshit insane and you should run.
(b) For girls to use if this high schooler is a guy. Tell him how awesome it is to finally have someone to talk to. Launch into story where you tell him all about how you want to get married to a guy like him and give him details about the wedding ("I'm gonna have six maids of honor, but he can only have one best man."). Explain that you just got out of a relationship with a guy. Well, you guys weren't technically going out, but you could tell he wanted you. Let the high schooler know how stupid you think restraining orders are ("I mean I should be able to see who I want when I want, right?"). Explain how you mail this guy bits of your hair for him to remember you by. By now he should be making up an excuse to run far away from you.
(c) For girls to use on girls. Explain how cool you think these girls are and how you are so disappointed you can't find anyone who is that cool in college for you to talk to. Explain it's not that you are unpopular. It's just all these girls at school just don't get you. It helps to start hysterically crying right now. Let them know that you know they aren't like that. They'll never leave you alone. Try to make them promise that you guys will be best friends forever. When they do this, immediately switch to uncontrollable giggles. Ask for their number ("So we can text!"). They should be long gone. (Note: This can backfire horribly i.e. "Oh my god, it's like we are the same person!". So use at your own risk.)
2. Work - So tomorrow's a weekday. You can totally go out, right. Oh wait, unless you are taking classes for the summer, you have a job to get to. Unlike class, which is relatively easy to blow off and where it's rarely noted that you smell of sangria and bad decisions, when you work there are people who notice if you aren't there and chances are your boss knows the smell of Keystone and Karkoff. Research job? Try staring at a computer screen or microfilm projector hung over. It does loads for that headache and by loads I mean makes it feel like there is a small man pounding nails into the back of your retinas. This means either you reel it in or, if you love to party, you get great at concealing it. As everyone knows I like to party. So showers and teeth brushing are important. Even if you are late, don't skip these steps. Also, invest in a pair of sunglasses. Key for if you are doing research or have a job that involves a lot of glowing screen. If you stayed up late and are dragging hard (yawning etc.) explain that you are babysitting your small nephew. You love the little tyke, but golly does he keep you up with his crying.
3. House Parties = Win - Summer is a time for house parties. Most people are living in apartments and houses so they are no longer bound by the universities tyrannical vendetta against kegs. This guarantees plenty more alcohol. Early on, you may mistake these parties as a pre-game as they might be during the year. FALSE. You will be horrified to find a very Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde transformation that many of your favorite nightspots have undergone. Spats is now constantly dead, albeit that can be remedied if you bring a large enough crew. Liquid is now full of seedy townies who will, if given the opportunity, explain to you the difference between manslaughter and homicide ("See if I had meant to run the red light and hit him, it woulda been homicide. Since i didn't, I only got two years."). You'll realize seconds after walking into a deserted Fish Co. that everything is actually coated in fine "roofie dust". Marley's... well, it hasn't changed. No one goes during the summer, either. After making these foolhardy journeys, you'll realize you should have never left that party where everyone was gathered around reading the funny words on the side of the natty boxes. (Nataboy- What you hear when you bring natty to a party.) For these reasons,I suggesting designating one or more places to be "Late Night" as somewhere to go after the first party. This way, if you hear someone say, "We are going to bars!" you can shake your head knowingly. The fools.
4. OMAC Space - The other thing about summer is that everyone decides its a time for exercise. What does that mean for you? Quite simply it means the OMAC becomes a whirling clusterfuck of activity. While girls wait in 2 person deep lines for the elliptical, dudes participate in games of 8 on 8 basketball on the courts (there is a reason for 5 on 5 basketball). The track will be full of girls walking with their friends 5 abreast and tough guys screaming at you for being in their lane during their bad ass 20 meter sprint. You'll see kids playing hacky sack, try not to giggle at the dudes doing flips on the mats for absolutely no reason, and hear the gestapo-esque commands being barked out by the spin class instructor. The sensory overload will probably prove too much for you and make you break down and cry. Till you realize you can just go to a green or do something outside. Oh... Yeah...
Well there it is. So long as you can avoid statutory rape throughout the summer, you should be all set and know all you need to know about summers in Providence. Remember, what happens in Providence stays in Providence.
Except herpes. That shit will come back with you.
1. High Schoolers - With summers at Colleges comes summer programs. With summer programs come high schoolers. Should you be approached by group of High Schoolers, put your head down, don't make eye contact, and avoid mentioning Entourage (guys) or One Tree Hill (girls). In a worst case scenario, they find out that you are a college student, and want to ask you some borderline retarded questions about school. (Do you buy the books for your classes? Are there boys in this school? When is the curfew? Are you allowed to drink alcohol here? Are there seasons here?). Simply remain calm, and don't strangle the little bastards to death. I've pioneered these foolproof ways to lose them.
(a) This is for guys to use. Tell them that they all seem really cool for high schoolers. Invite them to a house party and tell them to bring all the girls they know and not "too many dudes". Ask them if they know what rohypnol is. If someone correctly identifies it as roofies, tell them that it only does that to dudes and that girls can drink it with no effects. Anyone left listening to you after that, is batshit insane and you should run.
(b) For girls to use if this high schooler is a guy. Tell him how awesome it is to finally have someone to talk to. Launch into story where you tell him all about how you want to get married to a guy like him and give him details about the wedding ("I'm gonna have six maids of honor, but he can only have one best man."). Explain that you just got out of a relationship with a guy. Well, you guys weren't technically going out, but you could tell he wanted you. Let the high schooler know how stupid you think restraining orders are ("I mean I should be able to see who I want when I want, right?"). Explain how you mail this guy bits of your hair for him to remember you by. By now he should be making up an excuse to run far away from you.
(c) For girls to use on girls. Explain how cool you think these girls are and how you are so disappointed you can't find anyone who is that cool in college for you to talk to. Explain it's not that you are unpopular. It's just all these girls at school just don't get you. It helps to start hysterically crying right now. Let them know that you know they aren't like that. They'll never leave you alone. Try to make them promise that you guys will be best friends forever. When they do this, immediately switch to uncontrollable giggles. Ask for their number ("So we can text!"). They should be long gone. (Note: This can backfire horribly i.e. "Oh my god, it's like we are the same person!". So use at your own risk.)
2. Work - So tomorrow's a weekday. You can totally go out, right. Oh wait, unless you are taking classes for the summer, you have a job to get to. Unlike class, which is relatively easy to blow off and where it's rarely noted that you smell of sangria and bad decisions, when you work there are people who notice if you aren't there and chances are your boss knows the smell of Keystone and Karkoff. Research job? Try staring at a computer screen or microfilm projector hung over. It does loads for that headache and by loads I mean makes it feel like there is a small man pounding nails into the back of your retinas. This means either you reel it in or, if you love to party, you get great at concealing it. As everyone knows I like to party. So showers and teeth brushing are important. Even if you are late, don't skip these steps. Also, invest in a pair of sunglasses. Key for if you are doing research or have a job that involves a lot of glowing screen. If you stayed up late and are dragging hard (yawning etc.) explain that you are babysitting your small nephew. You love the little tyke, but golly does he keep you up with his crying.
3. House Parties = Win - Summer is a time for house parties. Most people are living in apartments and houses so they are no longer bound by the universities tyrannical vendetta against kegs. This guarantees plenty more alcohol. Early on, you may mistake these parties as a pre-game as they might be during the year. FALSE. You will be horrified to find a very Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde transformation that many of your favorite nightspots have undergone. Spats is now constantly dead, albeit that can be remedied if you bring a large enough crew. Liquid is now full of seedy townies who will, if given the opportunity, explain to you the difference between manslaughter and homicide ("See if I had meant to run the red light and hit him, it woulda been homicide. Since i didn't, I only got two years."). You'll realize seconds after walking into a deserted Fish Co. that everything is actually coated in fine "roofie dust". Marley's... well, it hasn't changed. No one goes during the summer, either. After making these foolhardy journeys, you'll realize you should have never left that party where everyone was gathered around reading the funny words on the side of the natty boxes. (Nataboy- What you hear when you bring natty to a party.) For these reasons,I suggesting designating one or more places to be "Late Night" as somewhere to go after the first party. This way, if you hear someone say, "We are going to bars!" you can shake your head knowingly. The fools.
4. OMAC Space - The other thing about summer is that everyone decides its a time for exercise. What does that mean for you? Quite simply it means the OMAC becomes a whirling clusterfuck of activity. While girls wait in 2 person deep lines for the elliptical, dudes participate in games of 8 on 8 basketball on the courts (there is a reason for 5 on 5 basketball). The track will be full of girls walking with their friends 5 abreast and tough guys screaming at you for being in their lane during their bad ass 20 meter sprint. You'll see kids playing hacky sack, try not to giggle at the dudes doing flips on the mats for absolutely no reason, and hear the gestapo-esque commands being barked out by the spin class instructor. The sensory overload will probably prove too much for you and make you break down and cry. Till you realize you can just go to a green or do something outside. Oh... Yeah...
Well there it is. So long as you can avoid statutory rape throughout the summer, you should be all set and know all you need to know about summers in Providence. Remember, what happens in Providence stays in Providence.
Except herpes. That shit will come back with you.
My Early Literary Genius
I was recently perusing through a stack of my books when I came across something interesting. The year 2000's edition of Aroostook County's own Cat-Tales and Pussy Willows. Cat-Tales and Pussy Willows is a soft cover book with the literary work of middle schoolers all over the county. This book is sponsored by the Young Author's Association which has in place a contest to decide which stories make it. I was fortunate enough to be selected the winner from my competitive class of 13 kids in the 5th grade.
I reviewed my story to find a revolutionary tale of trust, companionship, danger, adventure, action, responsibility, and ethics. Here in its unabridged, Proust-esque original format, I give you that tale.
[Note: I will providing author's commentary in the brackets.]
The Beginning of the End?
The Present Day - Nov. 1st, 2025. The earth's core has been disrupted by the space weapon called "Operation Irritation". The weapon let loose energy that disrupted the earth's core 26 years ago today. The earth is due to blow up tomorrow, but the Alliance has built a time machine. They will send two of the Army's finest (Officer's Caleb and Rick) back in time 26 years to Iraq, because they suspect Saddam Hussein built "Operation Irritation". Caleb and Rick will have one day to disable "Operation Irritation", and our story begins...
[Right off the bat the reader is immersed in a land of mystery. HOLY SHIT IT'S THE FUTURE! Apparently humanity is way stupider in the future cause after the earth's core got disrupted, we sat on our ass for 26 years. Like all things evil in 1999, sure enough, it was that bastard Saddam Hussein, though if I remember correctly Bowser from Mario was in the running for being responsible. The name of the dreaded space weapon also strikes terror into the heart. Operation Irritation, so it makes you really itchy or talks loud on an airplane. Looks like our aptly named heroes have their work cut out for them. Let's read on.]
"Are you sure this is it?" Caleb said, gazing through the binoculars.
"Positive," said Rick, looking at the armored base.
"Well let's get to work."
"HOLD IT!" yelled Rick. "You are forgetting the fact that we are unarmed, and there are guards all over the place, and there is a force field that can burn through any type of matter. Didn't you pay attention during the briefing?" Before Caleb could answer, three guards surrounded them and pointed their shotguns at them.
[As we learn from this section of the story. Our protagonists are retarded. Looking back on it, it was very mature and forward thinking of a young me to make retarded people the center of the story. Forest Gump had come out 5 years previously. They brought no guns and apparently have no plan through getting through this oddly futuristic force field that totally exists in 1999. Fuck bringing shit from the future, we'll just show up and wing it. The danger happens cause the guards have the most lethal weapons, SHOTGUNS! *GASP* How on Earth will they get out of this one?]
Caleb got ready to fight, but Rick whispered, "Wait until we're inside, then we'll escape." Sure enough, once they were inside the force field, they attacked. Caleb gave one guard a swift kick in the jaw that knocked him out. The guard fell on the other guard. That guard banged his head on the concrete and blacked out. The last guard was knocked out by a few or Rick's rabbit punches. After congratulating each other, they ran inside the building.
[The guards apparently have been taken from a James Bond movie and rather than killing them on the spot the guards take them exactly where they want to go and allow themselves to be overpowered by our 'special' heroes. Judging on how the second guard blacked out after hitting the floor, it's safe to assume that this facility is made of Bacardi 151 and Everclear. So I'm also not really sure what a rabbit punch is, but apparently they are bad-ass and totally fucked that third guard up. Also, our protagonists are very insecure and need to congratulate each other upon ever successful thing. I picture them slapping five in a very military manner.]
"It's huge," commented Caleb, staring at the huge space weapon known as "Operation Irritation". They found the control panel and deactivated the weapon.
Rick whispered in the communicator, "Mission accomplished. Send in the helicopters." Soon enough the helicopters blasted into the base and picked up Caleb and Rick
Sam Sheehan
Grade 5
Woodland Consolidated School
[If it were 7 years later Caleb would be walking right into a "That's what she said" joke. Also apparently this weapon was designed so if you deactivated it, you couldn't turn it back on. Stupid Iraqi engineers. Suck one Sayid! Also apparently, they had helicopters that could easily penetrate the force field at their beck and call. Fuck it, why use those when you can just wing it?]
Hopefully, you enjoyed this stunning piece of literature and are as indignant as me that it was shunned for the Pulitzer.
I reviewed my story to find a revolutionary tale of trust, companionship, danger, adventure, action, responsibility, and ethics. Here in its unabridged, Proust-esque original format, I give you that tale.
[Note: I will providing author's commentary in the brackets.]
The Beginning of the End?
The Present Day - Nov. 1st, 2025. The earth's core has been disrupted by the space weapon called "Operation Irritation". The weapon let loose energy that disrupted the earth's core 26 years ago today. The earth is due to blow up tomorrow, but the Alliance has built a time machine. They will send two of the Army's finest (Officer's Caleb and Rick) back in time 26 years to Iraq, because they suspect Saddam Hussein built "Operation Irritation". Caleb and Rick will have one day to disable "Operation Irritation", and our story begins...
[Right off the bat the reader is immersed in a land of mystery. HOLY SHIT IT'S THE FUTURE! Apparently humanity is way stupider in the future cause after the earth's core got disrupted, we sat on our ass for 26 years. Like all things evil in 1999, sure enough, it was that bastard Saddam Hussein, though if I remember correctly Bowser from Mario was in the running for being responsible. The name of the dreaded space weapon also strikes terror into the heart. Operation Irritation, so it makes you really itchy or talks loud on an airplane. Looks like our aptly named heroes have their work cut out for them. Let's read on.]
"Are you sure this is it?" Caleb said, gazing through the binoculars.
"Positive," said Rick, looking at the armored base.
"Well let's get to work."
"HOLD IT!" yelled Rick. "You are forgetting the fact that we are unarmed, and there are guards all over the place, and there is a force field that can burn through any type of matter. Didn't you pay attention during the briefing?" Before Caleb could answer, three guards surrounded them and pointed their shotguns at them.
[As we learn from this section of the story. Our protagonists are retarded. Looking back on it, it was very mature and forward thinking of a young me to make retarded people the center of the story. Forest Gump had come out 5 years previously. They brought no guns and apparently have no plan through getting through this oddly futuristic force field that totally exists in 1999. Fuck bringing shit from the future, we'll just show up and wing it. The danger happens cause the guards have the most lethal weapons, SHOTGUNS! *GASP* How on Earth will they get out of this one?]
Caleb got ready to fight, but Rick whispered, "Wait until we're inside, then we'll escape." Sure enough, once they were inside the force field, they attacked. Caleb gave one guard a swift kick in the jaw that knocked him out. The guard fell on the other guard. That guard banged his head on the concrete and blacked out. The last guard was knocked out by a few or Rick's rabbit punches. After congratulating each other, they ran inside the building.
[The guards apparently have been taken from a James Bond movie and rather than killing them on the spot the guards take them exactly where they want to go and allow themselves to be overpowered by our 'special' heroes. Judging on how the second guard blacked out after hitting the floor, it's safe to assume that this facility is made of Bacardi 151 and Everclear. So I'm also not really sure what a rabbit punch is, but apparently they are bad-ass and totally fucked that third guard up. Also, our protagonists are very insecure and need to congratulate each other upon ever successful thing. I picture them slapping five in a very military manner.]
"It's huge," commented Caleb, staring at the huge space weapon known as "Operation Irritation". They found the control panel and deactivated the weapon.
Rick whispered in the communicator, "Mission accomplished. Send in the helicopters." Soon enough the helicopters blasted into the base and picked up Caleb and Rick
Sam Sheehan
Grade 5
Woodland Consolidated School
[If it were 7 years later Caleb would be walking right into a "That's what she said" joke. Also apparently this weapon was designed so if you deactivated it, you couldn't turn it back on. Stupid Iraqi engineers. Suck one Sayid! Also apparently, they had helicopters that could easily penetrate the force field at their beck and call. Fuck it, why use those when you can just wing it?]
Hopefully, you enjoyed this stunning piece of literature and are as indignant as me that it was shunned for the Pulitzer.
Five Types of Facebook Friends
On February 4, 2004 a website was launched by a young man named Mark Zuckerberg. The purpose of this website? To connect people through the internet. The name of the website?
Facebook.
Yes, we've all come to know and love facebook as that website you can use to stalk people in a more socially acceptable manner than going through their mail. Facebook is used to locate people and look at whatever they want people on the internet to see, such as what books they want people to think they like (most put "I don't read books"). The most important feature, however is that of the friend system. A friend is made on facebook when one person requests a friendship and the other agrees to it. Now these friendships can have five different meanings depending on the person. To help those of you not as savvy with facebook I will breakdown the five categories for you.
Class 1, The Top Friend: The Top Friends are friends you hang out with now a lot or used to hang out with a lot. When you talk to someone on facebook, chances are it's one of these people. They are the best. (Note: Make sure that all top friends are stored properly in the Top Friend application.)
Class 2, The Acquaintance: Fuck yes, we know each other. These people are likely friends with your top friends. You likely see this person at large gatherings, and make it a point to talk to one another and mention how you two should really hang out more (this rarely happens). After about 4 to 5 of these meetings within a 2 month period one of you happens across the other in facebook and says "Hey I know (him/her/that) we should be friends!". These people are excellent to send those pesky "send to twenty of these your friends" things to.
Class 3, The Facer: This person is always on facebook and lives for it like Chuck Norris lives for pain. They want everyone in their (high school/college/community/church group/cult) to be their facebook friend. You accept, but immediately regret when you get 30 updates that say "The Facer wants to see how alike you are." Be wary, for they will know when you are on and when you are not.
Class 4, Wall and App Girls: Now, let me clarify here. I'm not biased in any way... Ok I am, but these people tend to be girls so I'll stick with it. These girls have so many goddamn apps and they want you to be part of it. When you visit their page, you have to scroll for about 12 minutes before you reach their wall. They play Jetman and Scrabulous. They are a Knicks fan and a Lions fan and a Mariners fan, they have a super wall, they compare movies on flixter. The list goes on and on. After these girls trick you into friending them, you'll get pounded with App invites more than Ken Schrader got pounded with hate mail (Sorry, that's too obscure. He's the driver who crashed into Dale Earnhardt and killed him). If that's not enough, these girls use walls like they are the inbox and messaging systems. They write back and forth like four words at a time, rather than just use IM or something. Again once they have you as a friend they will try to suck you in by leaving "hooking" wall posts on your wall. Here is the wall to wall for one such victim.
"Hey."
(I mean, what to you say to that?) "Hey.... any particular reason you wrote 'hey' on my wall? Did I do something?"
"rofl, no, what r u doin?"
"Checking Facebook."
"coolz"
"yeah."
"Omg, u r so funny"
"Thanks(?)"
"We should hang out soon"
"Ok, yeah we should."
"Great!"
I think you get the picture. Before you friend, always check their wall and apps.
Class 5, Creepy McStalker: Before when you had a Xanga, this person's footprints where all over your pages. Now, in the more stealthy facebook, he can get back to doing what he does best, keeping tabs on you. He's got your interests memorized cold and he could recite your favorite quotes in his sleep. You regret friending him every day, and just wish he would go away. (Just like your douchebag friend from middle school!)
Hopefully you all go into facebook a little more educated about the do's and dont's. Remember, Class 5's are bad, unless you are one of them. Then it's cool. You're not obsessing. You just want to see if you like what she likes. Right? Right.....?
Facebook.
Yes, we've all come to know and love facebook as that website you can use to stalk people in a more socially acceptable manner than going through their mail. Facebook is used to locate people and look at whatever they want people on the internet to see, such as what books they want people to think they like (most put "I don't read books"). The most important feature, however is that of the friend system. A friend is made on facebook when one person requests a friendship and the other agrees to it. Now these friendships can have five different meanings depending on the person. To help those of you not as savvy with facebook I will breakdown the five categories for you.
Class 1, The Top Friend: The Top Friends are friends you hang out with now a lot or used to hang out with a lot. When you talk to someone on facebook, chances are it's one of these people. They are the best. (Note: Make sure that all top friends are stored properly in the Top Friend application.)
Class 2, The Acquaintance: Fuck yes, we know each other. These people are likely friends with your top friends. You likely see this person at large gatherings, and make it a point to talk to one another and mention how you two should really hang out more (this rarely happens). After about 4 to 5 of these meetings within a 2 month period one of you happens across the other in facebook and says "Hey I know (him/her/that) we should be friends!". These people are excellent to send those pesky "send to twenty of these your friends" things to.
Class 3, The Facer: This person is always on facebook and lives for it like Chuck Norris lives for pain. They want everyone in their (high school/college/community/c
Class 4, Wall and App Girls: Now, let me clarify here. I'm not biased in any way... Ok I am, but these people tend to be girls so I'll stick with it. These girls have so many goddamn apps and they want you to be part of it. When you visit their page, you have to scroll for about 12 minutes before you reach their wall. They play Jetman and Scrabulous. They are a Knicks fan and a Lions fan and a Mariners fan, they have a super wall, they compare movies on flixter. The list goes on and on. After these girls trick you into friending them, you'll get pounded with App invites more than Ken Schrader got pounded with hate mail (Sorry, that's too obscure. He's the driver who crashed into Dale Earnhardt and killed him). If that's not enough, these girls use walls like they are the inbox and messaging systems. They write back and forth like four words at a time, rather than just use IM or something. Again once they have you as a friend they will try to suck you in by leaving "hooking" wall posts on your wall. Here is the wall to wall for one such victim.
"Hey."
(I mean, what to you say to that?) "Hey.... any particular reason you wrote 'hey' on my wall? Did I do something?"
"rofl, no, what r u doin?"
"Checking Facebook."
"coolz"
"yeah."
"Omg, u r so funny"
"Thanks(?)"
"We should hang out soon"
"Ok, yeah we should."
"Great!"
I think you get the picture. Before you friend, always check their wall and apps.
Class 5, Creepy McStalker: Before when you had a Xanga, this person's footprints where all over your pages. Now, in the more stealthy facebook, he can get back to doing what he does best, keeping tabs on you. He's got your interests memorized cold and he could recite your favorite quotes in his sleep. You regret friending him every day, and just wish he would go away. (Just like your douchebag friend from middle school!)
Hopefully you all go into facebook a little more educated about the do's and dont's. Remember, Class 5's are bad, unless you are one of them. Then it's cool. You're not obsessing. You just want to see if you like what she likes. Right? Right.....?
If I were a Professor at a University
Pop Culture 0170 - Popular Entertainment
Midterm #2
Professor Sheehan
April 15, 2009
Multiple Choice and Short Answer (5 pts each)
1. You are facing a lvl 34 Graveler in Pokemon Blue. You are both down to your last pokemon, yours is a lvl 37 Magmar with full health but zero pp in any move. Fortunately, you have an Ether. Which of Magmar's four moves should you use the ether on?
A.) Flamethrower B.)Smog C.)Seismic Toss D.) Ember
2. Say you were a Spaniard seeking revenge on a six-fingered man for the death of your father. What would you say to him to convey your feelings to him? (Note: Answer should draw on Rob Reiner films)
3. According to Rick James, "cocaine is..."
A.) The Booger Sugar B.) a hell of a drug C.) Thizztastic D.) watch bitches do. Drop X.
4. What does Dumbldore cite as Professor Kettleburn's reason for retiring as Care of Magical Creatures Professor in Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban?
5.) According to the Smash Mouth Song "All-Star" The _____ beg to differ, judging from the whole in the satellite picture.
6.) In Episode 17 of Season 1 of Hey Arnold! Eugene is accused of pulling the fire alarm before being proven innocent by Arnold. Who really pulled the Fire Alarm?
5.) What is Louis's maiden name in Family Guy.
6.) Name the Six Sages from The Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time and their respective element.
Bonus.) The seventh Sage?
7.) In the Nintendo 64 game Star Fox levels are beaten in a certain order. Complete this set.
Corneria,_______, Aquas,_______, Macbeth, Area 6, Venom
8.) What Ten Things does Kat Strafford say she hates in her poem?
9.) According to the Brandon Flowers of The Killers, this is turning saints into the sea.
10.) The three themed rooms at Dwight's Bed and Breakfast are Irrigation, America, and what?
11.) Which Video Game series is Buzzy Beetle from?
12.) This is what the T in T-Virus stands for.
13.) Robert Muldoon's last words in Jurassic Park.
14.) The name of the leech-like antagonists from Animorphs.
15.) The name of the Dharma Initiative station that Desmond Hume was forced to work in.
16.) In Orson Scott Card's book Ender's Game, Ender is poorly treated at the beginning of the novel because he is what?
17.) The only Rebel Alliance pilot to be actively involved in the attack on the Death Stars core both times.
Essay: 15 pts
1.) Compare and contrast The Joker from The Dark Knight or Anton Chigurh from No Country for Old Men. Which do you think is a more terrifying entity? Why?
Bonus: Explain why JarJar Binks is the worst character ever created
Midterm #2
Professor Sheehan
April 15, 2009
Multiple Choice and Short Answer (5 pts each)
1. You are facing a lvl 34 Graveler in Pokemon Blue. You are both down to your last pokemon, yours is a lvl 37 Magmar with full health but zero pp in any move. Fortunately, you have an Ether. Which of Magmar's four moves should you use the ether on?
A.) Flamethrower B.)Smog C.)Seismic Toss D.) Ember
2. Say you were a Spaniard seeking revenge on a six-fingered man for the death of your father. What would you say to him to convey your feelings to him? (Note: Answer should draw on Rob Reiner films)
3. According to Rick James, "cocaine is..."
A.) The Booger Sugar B.) a hell of a drug C.) Thizztastic D.) watch bitches do. Drop X.
4. What does Dumbldore cite as Professor Kettleburn's reason for retiring as Care of Magical Creatures Professor in Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban?
5.) According to the Smash Mouth Song "All-Star" The _____ beg to differ, judging from the whole in the satellite picture.
6.) In Episode 17 of Season 1 of Hey Arnold! Eugene is accused of pulling the fire alarm before being proven innocent by Arnold. Who really pulled the Fire Alarm?
5.) What is Louis's maiden name in Family Guy.
6.) Name the Six Sages from The Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time and their respective element.
Bonus.) The seventh Sage?
7.) In the Nintendo 64 game Star Fox levels are beaten in a certain order. Complete this set.
Corneria,_______, Aquas,_______, Macbeth, Area 6, Venom
8.) What Ten Things does Kat Strafford say she hates in her poem?
9.) According to the Brandon Flowers of The Killers, this is turning saints into the sea.
10.) The three themed rooms at Dwight's Bed and Breakfast are Irrigation, America, and what?
11.) Which Video Game series is Buzzy Beetle from?
12.) This is what the T in T-Virus stands for.
13.) Robert Muldoon's last words in Jurassic Park.
14.) The name of the leech-like antagonists from Animorphs.
15.) The name of the Dharma Initiative station that Desmond Hume was forced to work in.
16.) In Orson Scott Card's book Ender's Game, Ender is poorly treated at the beginning of the novel because he is what?
17.) The only Rebel Alliance pilot to be actively involved in the attack on the Death Stars core both times.
Essay: 15 pts
1.) Compare and contrast The Joker from The Dark Knight or Anton Chigurh from No Country for Old Men. Which do you think is a more terrifying entity? Why?
Bonus: Explain why JarJar Binks is the worst character ever created
If someone did a scienfic piece on Fish Co.
Midnight Fishing
by Amanda Huggankiz
Until most recently I had only heard rumors. Rumors of a great exodus from Brown University every Wednesday, to a night scene said to be out of this world. It must be for all of the excitement and hype generated by the students who flock there week after week. So to understand all of the hype, I decided to go undercover and experience these students were so ravenous for. I created the identity of a freshman girl living in a Keeney Quadrangle single. It was imperative that I be in place a full week in advance so as to properly experience the hype. I sat in ENGN 9 and ECON 1 lectures alone but still overheard conversations being had all around me.
"Are you going to Fish Co. Wednesday?"
"Bitch. please you know i like to party."
"Do you have an ID?"
"Are you kidding? It's fish co."
So Fish Co. is the name of this elite hot spot. I was making progress. I continued to to go to class and move about Keeney normally in the days leading up to Wednesday. Eventually, awkward conversation was struck up between myself and a student who informed me he lived just next door and he had "seen me around". After talk of where I was from, what i was concentrating in, and what classes I was taking (all separated by long pauses during which he would look at his feet and shuffle them), he hurriedly excuses himself and slips into his room. Since he had forgot to introduce himself I have to look at his door to figure out that his name is Trafton. We exchange awkward waves over the next few days when seeing each other in the Ratty or Sci Li.
On Tuesday, I encounter him, yet again, in the V-Dub while both of us are getting drinks. Small talk continues from where the last conversation ("How are your classes? Oh yeah, Freidberg's kinda hard to follow...You think she's easy? Oh,...Me too!"). Then the magical moment I had been waiting for happens.
"So, you going to Fish Co? Me and my friends are pre-gaming in my room. If you want you can come. It's cool if not, though."
I've arrived at what I've set out to do. Wednesday night, I garb myself in a pair of heels, and shirt I decide is long enough to be a dress and set out across the hall to Trafton's. Upon my arrival, and despite having talked to him a total of 4 times, I am pulled into a bear hug by Trafton who smells of combination of cologne and Crown Rousse. He introduces me to his friends as the greatest girl at Brown and in turn introduces me to them. I promptly forget their names which will make the evening difficult as they all remembered mine. I have drinks pushed into my hand for a half hour while I talk to a tall girl about how funny it is when Hazeltine asks "Am I making sense here?". Someone near the door yells that it is time to go. At last, my moment has arrived.
During the twenty minute walk in my heels, I can only imagine what great reward would drive my fellow young women to endure this. After crossing, eight lanes of traffic that would make even the most experienced Frogger player wince, I see the luminous neon fish skeleton twinkling in the dark. After forcibly pushing ourselves to the front of the line, we hand the bouncer our ID's (Boys-their brother's expired ID, Girls-their brown ID or even credit card) and enter this hallowed establishment. What happens is immediate sensory overload. Strobes fly, a vaguely familiar techno mix of a popular song pumps through the building, and sweaty bodies are forced into uncomfortable contact. I gather my bearings and begin to take note of what seems to be important for survival in this new environment.
I take position at the back bar with the other "talkers". Here a great variety of conversations seemed to be taking place. A girl consoles a crying friend who wants to know "Why are all guys such assholes?" One young man advises a friend "Dude, I'm telling you, you are drunk. You don't want to hook up with her." A boy next to me tells a girl he has bought a drink for about the hurricane relief he helped with and how "I just wanted to help. I guess I've always just cared to much."
I am then forcibly pulled into the dance floor by a larger gentlemen with a backward hat on who leads me into the center, flips me around, and begins to grind with me. This is a genius tactic of Napoleonic brilliance, in that, being smaller, I cannot easily escape the dance floor crammed quarters leaving me with no options, but to endure. Girls around me are slowly saved by friends who dive in like hawks and pull their friends away from this "grind corner". The gentlemen left without a dance partner will often mutter "cockblock", "bitch", or something similar before returning to his friends to talk about how much he hates that girl. The song change brings Lady Gaga's 'Just Dance'. A girl next to me screams "This is my favorite song (She said the same thing when 'Don't Stop the Music' and 'Forever' came on). I stage an escape from my captor in between songs to find myself in another group of people, the "circlers".
The circlers repeatedly do laps around the club whether they be looking for a friend, (She's so drunk. Why won't she pick up her phone? I'm going to kill her.), looking for someone (I'm telling you man, I saw that hot girl with her friends over here.), or just avoiding someone (It's like every time I get to the other end of the the club and turn around, there she is again. Why won't she leave me alone?").
I leave with some of the circlers and begin the long trek back up the hill. By the time we reach the top, I am tired, have no money in my wallet, and have no idea where the people I went with are. I am told that there is a place that makes all of this pain go away, though. Jo's. My drunken mind is in heaven. I order all the food I can carry and dump it out on the nearest table. I sit with these people I've left with (I still have no idea who they are) and we talk about how lame that was and that we are never going again. I begin receiving texts from acquaintances asking where I am and if I want to "watch a movie". I ignore these and return to my room exhausted and collapse on my bed.
I wake the next morning to find the time to be 11 o clock, meaning I have slept through my classes. I am hung over, realize my credit card and driver license are missing, and still in the clothes I wore last night. Yet, I am also strangely satisfied. I take glee in telling everyone how drunk I got last night (SOOOOO drunk) This truly is a remarkable phenomenon, in that while this really should not be fun and worth the trouble. It somehow manages to make the participant feel that even if they didn't have fun last time they will likely have better luck next time.
Amanda Huggankiz is a credited professor at South Hampton Institute of Technology (SHIT) and has once met Billy Mays.
by Amanda Huggankiz
Until most recently I had only heard rumors. Rumors of a great exodus from Brown University every Wednesday, to a night scene said to be out of this world. It must be for all of the excitement and hype generated by the students who flock there week after week. So to understand all of the hype, I decided to go undercover and experience these students were so ravenous for. I created the identity of a freshman girl living in a Keeney Quadrangle single. It was imperative that I be in place a full week in advance so as to properly experience the hype. I sat in ENGN 9 and ECON 1 lectures alone but still overheard conversations being had all around me.
"Are you going to Fish Co. Wednesday?"
"Bitch. please you know i like to party."
"Do you have an ID?"
"Are you kidding? It's fish co."
So Fish Co. is the name of this elite hot spot. I was making progress. I continued to to go to class and move about Keeney normally in the days leading up to Wednesday. Eventually, awkward conversation was struck up between myself and a student who informed me he lived just next door and he had "seen me around". After talk of where I was from, what i was concentrating in, and what classes I was taking (all separated by long pauses during which he would look at his feet and shuffle them), he hurriedly excuses himself and slips into his room. Since he had forgot to introduce himself I have to look at his door to figure out that his name is Trafton. We exchange awkward waves over the next few days when seeing each other in the Ratty or Sci Li.
On Tuesday, I encounter him, yet again, in the V-Dub while both of us are getting drinks. Small talk continues from where the last conversation ("How are your classes? Oh yeah, Freidberg's kinda hard to follow...You think she's easy? Oh,...Me too!"). Then the magical moment I had been waiting for happens.
"So, you going to Fish Co? Me and my friends are pre-gaming in my room. If you want you can come. It's cool if not, though."
I've arrived at what I've set out to do. Wednesday night, I garb myself in a pair of heels, and shirt I decide is long enough to be a dress and set out across the hall to Trafton's. Upon my arrival, and despite having talked to him a total of 4 times, I am pulled into a bear hug by Trafton who smells of combination of cologne and Crown Rousse. He introduces me to his friends as the greatest girl at Brown and in turn introduces me to them. I promptly forget their names which will make the evening difficult as they all remembered mine. I have drinks pushed into my hand for a half hour while I talk to a tall girl about how funny it is when Hazeltine asks "Am I making sense here?". Someone near the door yells that it is time to go. At last, my moment has arrived.
During the twenty minute walk in my heels, I can only imagine what great reward would drive my fellow young women to endure this. After crossing, eight lanes of traffic that would make even the most experienced Frogger player wince, I see the luminous neon fish skeleton twinkling in the dark. After forcibly pushing ourselves to the front of the line, we hand the bouncer our ID's (Boys-their brother's expired ID, Girls-their brown ID or even credit card) and enter this hallowed establishment. What happens is immediate sensory overload. Strobes fly, a vaguely familiar techno mix of a popular song pumps through the building, and sweaty bodies are forced into uncomfortable contact. I gather my bearings and begin to take note of what seems to be important for survival in this new environment.
I take position at the back bar with the other "talkers". Here a great variety of conversations seemed to be taking place. A girl consoles a crying friend who wants to know "Why are all guys such assholes?" One young man advises a friend "Dude, I'm telling you, you are drunk. You don't want to hook up with her." A boy next to me tells a girl he has bought a drink for about the hurricane relief he helped with and how "I just wanted to help. I guess I've always just cared to much."
I am then forcibly pulled into the dance floor by a larger gentlemen with a backward hat on who leads me into the center, flips me around, and begins to grind with me. This is a genius tactic of Napoleonic brilliance, in that, being smaller, I cannot easily escape the dance floor crammed quarters leaving me with no options, but to endure. Girls around me are slowly saved by friends who dive in like hawks and pull their friends away from this "grind corner". The gentlemen left without a dance partner will often mutter "cockblock", "bitch", or something similar before returning to his friends to talk about how much he hates that girl. The song change brings Lady Gaga's 'Just Dance'. A girl next to me screams "This is my favorite song (She said the same thing when 'Don't Stop the Music' and 'Forever' came on). I stage an escape from my captor in between songs to find myself in another group of people, the "circlers".
The circlers repeatedly do laps around the club whether they be looking for a friend, (She's so drunk. Why won't she pick up her phone? I'm going to kill her.), looking for someone (I'm telling you man, I saw that hot girl with her friends over here.), or just avoiding someone (It's like every time I get to the other end of the the club and turn around, there she is again. Why won't she leave me alone?").
I leave with some of the circlers and begin the long trek back up the hill. By the time we reach the top, I am tired, have no money in my wallet, and have no idea where the people I went with are. I am told that there is a place that makes all of this pain go away, though. Jo's. My drunken mind is in heaven. I order all the food I can carry and dump it out on the nearest table. I sit with these people I've left with (I still have no idea who they are) and we talk about how lame that was and that we are never going again. I begin receiving texts from acquaintances asking where I am and if I want to "watch a movie". I ignore these and return to my room exhausted and collapse on my bed.
I wake the next morning to find the time to be 11 o clock, meaning I have slept through my classes. I am hung over, realize my credit card and driver license are missing, and still in the clothes I wore last night. Yet, I am also strangely satisfied. I take glee in telling everyone how drunk I got last night (SOOOOO drunk) This truly is a remarkable phenomenon, in that while this really should not be fun and worth the trouble. It somehow manages to make the participant feel that even if they didn't have fun last time they will likely have better luck next time.
Amanda Huggankiz is a credited professor at South Hampton Institute of Technology (SHIT) and has once met Billy Mays.
My Perfect Pet
(HARRY POTTER SPOILER ALERT)
I'm going to jump right into this post. Cats fucking suck. Like really, I can only think of two cats that I like. One of them is named Liberty and she lives in Stetson household of Woodland, Maine. The other is a dead cat, which fortunately are easy to convert from live cats (and fun too!). I would also like to point out an immediate difference between dead cats and undead cats, a.k.a. zombie cats. The only thing worse than a live cat that is not Liberty is a zombie cat. It combines the two things I hate most, cats and zombies. Dead cats and zombie cats are on opposite ends of the enjoyment scale for me.
I can just hear the girls (Note: guys who like cats fall into this category.). "But Sam, cats are so pretty and nice and blah blah blah!" So I'll explain right now. Cats actually begin as one of my favorite things, kittens! They are so lovable, cute and furry and they melt my heart. Are you ready, though, for the most disappointing transformation since the Olson twins? That's right, these things go from cute, adorable, and lovable to gaunt, scary, and fucking evil (this goes for both cats and Olson twins). So you pay for 3 months of cute by having a feral monster with nine lives skulking around your house for 15 years.
Alright, questioning voice. Do your thing. "But Sam, If you don't like cats, what is your favorite pet?" Well, in a perfect world, I would have all of the following pets on this pets list.
1. Mew
2. Snarf
3. The rabbit man from Donnie Darko
4. A Nazgul
5. An Ewok, especially a baby!
However, since all of those are fictional characters or from Lord of the Rings (counts as real).
An early front runner would be dogs, I mean they start out the cutest things ever, and only get mildly uglier as time progresses (like siblings). They are loyal, will be adorable, play with you, and will kill cats. Win-Win-Win-Win. Another possibility is a manatee, since they are endangered. They are large animals that often accidentally killed. I never thought I'd say this, but we need to work to save the obese. But what do I really want...?
Ah-Ha! I have it! My perfect pet is... a unicorn. It's the most magical creature ever, is majestic and beautiful, and I can use it to generate wand cores for Mr. Ollivander. I can't wait to give Cedric his new... oh, I see. Dead, huh? Yikes, my bad. Then give this to Mad-Eye Moody? No... Really? Well Shit. Maybe I should just give it to Vincent Crabbe. OH MY GOD SERIOUSLY? FUCK IT I DON'T CARE. Professor Quirrel, Fred Weasly, Dobby, Professor Dumbldore, Barty Crouch, Bertha Jorkins, Professor Lupin, Wormtail, Nymphdora Tonks. Just give it to one of them. ... Wow, you have a better survival rate at the Alamo. Cute J.K Rowling, great children's book.
I'm going to jump right into this post. Cats fucking suck. Like really, I can only think of two cats that I like. One of them is named Liberty and she lives in Stetson household of Woodland, Maine. The other is a dead cat, which fortunately are easy to convert from live cats (and fun too!). I would also like to point out an immediate difference between dead cats and undead cats, a.k.a. zombie cats. The only thing worse than a live cat that is not Liberty is a zombie cat. It combines the two things I hate most, cats and zombies. Dead cats and zombie cats are on opposite ends of the enjoyment scale for me.
I can just hear the girls (Note: guys who like cats fall into this category.). "But Sam, cats are so pretty and nice and blah blah blah!" So I'll explain right now. Cats actually begin as one of my favorite things, kittens! They are so lovable, cute and furry and they melt my heart. Are you ready, though, for the most disappointing transformation since the Olson twins? That's right, these things go from cute, adorable, and lovable to gaunt, scary, and fucking evil (this goes for both cats and Olson twins). So you pay for 3 months of cute by having a feral monster with nine lives skulking around your house for 15 years.
Alright, questioning voice. Do your thing. "But Sam, If you don't like cats, what is your favorite pet?" Well, in a perfect world, I would have all of the following pets on this pets list.
1. Mew
2. Snarf
3. The rabbit man from Donnie Darko
4. A Nazgul
5. An Ewok, especially a baby!
However, since all of those are fictional characters or from Lord of the Rings (counts as real).
An early front runner would be dogs, I mean they start out the cutest things ever, and only get mildly uglier as time progresses (like siblings). They are loyal, will be adorable, play with you, and will kill cats. Win-Win-Win-Win. Another possibility is a manatee, since they are endangered. They are large animals that often accidentally killed. I never thought I'd say this, but we need to work to save the obese. But what do I really want...?
Ah-Ha! I have it! My perfect pet is... a unicorn. It's the most magical creature ever, is majestic and beautiful, and I can use it to generate wand cores for Mr. Ollivander. I can't wait to give Cedric his new... oh, I see. Dead, huh? Yikes, my bad. Then give this to Mad-Eye Moody? No... Really? Well Shit. Maybe I should just give it to Vincent Crabbe. OH MY GOD SERIOUSLY? FUCK IT I DON'T CARE. Professor Quirrel, Fred Weasly, Dobby, Professor Dumbldore, Barty Crouch, Bertha Jorkins, Professor Lupin, Wormtail, Nymphdora Tonks. Just give it to one of them. ... Wow, you have a better survival rate at the Alamo. Cute J.K Rowling, great children's book.
The Death Star, Expensive In More Ways Than One.
Today I'd like to examine one of the greatest feats of construction ever pulled off. The pyramids? Fuck No! Lebron James's house. Closer, but no. I am talking of course about the mighty Death Star, the largest space station ever constructed. If you must know the runner-up in a distant second is the mother ship from Independence Day which was a quarter of the size of the moon. Now, this was a pretty ambitious effort from the Imperial Army. I mean lets look at the costs. First off, materials. Where do you get enough alloys to build a station the size of a moon. If you are the Imperial Army. You've got to be mining some serious alloy! Those miners are going to want compensation because their work is so dangerous, and chances are if you need enough alloy to build a station as big as the Death Star, you need a lot of miners. Next come independent contractors. This was touched upon briefly in the movie Clerks. You need all kinds of contractors, plumbers, electrician, giant blow-your-fucking-planet-up-if-you-don't-tell-us-where-the-rebel- base-is-and-don't-you-dare-say-Dantooine laser makers. I mean you have to have the best of the best if you want to make this space station, and that doesn't come cheap. You need a power source good enough to power the whole station, even if it does does have a little bit of a drawback (Hint: Try hitting the exhaust port with a torpedo to see what it is.). Legal isssues shouldn't be too much of a problem as you can have Vader silence any law firm rather quickly.
What about space? I mean you need enough acreage to fit a goddamn moon into. I mean you could by that realty next to Alderaan, but if they were to be next to each other too long, they would gravitate and crash into one another. If there was only a way to make is so there was only one...
As you can see, It takes a lot to build the Death Star. So I'm going to answer the age-old question right now. Why did the Empire Strike Back? Because you rebel ruined the greatest fucking architectural accomplishment a galaxy far, far away has ever seen. I mean, yeah, maybe the Empire should have spent a little more money on security or a safer power source, but just because the Stone Hedge isn't guarded well doesn't mean you draw graffiti on it. I mean, I understand the Death Star was going to blow up Yavin IV, but to be quite frank I think that wouldl have been doing the galaxy a favor.
And what's even more infuriating is that the Death Star is blown up a second time. This the rebels at least have the courtesy to fucking save Empire a little money by not waiting till it's finished. But c'mon! You've got to respect that after going through all that shit the first time with the building process, they would do it a second time. It's got to be frustrating to be the head of development for the Empire. I mean imagine being in a meeting.
Meeting between Heads of Departments within the Empire
Development: Ok, we've been given the go ahead for a second Space Station, but I really need some commitment from you guys this time.
Armed Forces: Well, we kind of don't like to protect anything that doesn't have a specific weakness... You know it makes the guys jobs seem a little more important.
Development: Are you fucking serious? Last time, we did that, you FUCKING FAILED and it got blown up! No. Just guard it while it's being built. That will be the only time when it will be vulnerable. Umm, I'd also like to, adress the name Death Star. It's not real positive and I think it might be the reason people are so eager to blow it up.
Public Relations: NO! They must fear us!
Development: With all due respect Lord Vader. I don't think you are a great fit for public relations. I mean it's just that Gaaaaaaaaaaa......
Well, you get the picture. It was pretty frustrating to be that guy. And, the rebels didn't make it any easier for him. Well, Head of Development, this post is dedicated to you.
What about space? I mean you need enough acreage to fit a goddamn moon into. I mean you could by that realty next to Alderaan, but if they were to be next to each other too long, they would gravitate and crash into one another. If there was only a way to make is so there was only one...
As you can see, It takes a lot to build the Death Star. So I'm going to answer the age-old question right now. Why did the Empire Strike Back? Because you rebel ruined the greatest fucking architectural accomplishment a galaxy far, far away has ever seen. I mean, yeah, maybe the Empire should have spent a little more money on security or a safer power source, but just because the Stone Hedge isn't guarded well doesn't mean you draw graffiti on it. I mean, I understand the Death Star was going to blow up Yavin IV, but to be quite frank I think that wouldl have been doing the galaxy a favor.
And what's even more infuriating is that the Death Star is blown up a second time. This the rebels at least have the courtesy to fucking save Empire a little money by not waiting till it's finished. But c'mon! You've got to respect that after going through all that shit the first time with the building process, they would do it a second time. It's got to be frustrating to be the head of development for the Empire. I mean imagine being in a meeting.
Meeting between Heads of Departments within the Empire
Development: Ok, we've been given the go ahead for a second Space Station, but I really need some commitment from you guys this time.
Armed Forces: Well, we kind of don't like to protect anything that doesn't have a specific weakness... You know it makes the guys jobs seem a little more important.
Development: Are you fucking serious? Last time, we did that, you FUCKING FAILED and it got blown up! No. Just guard it while it's being built. That will be the only time when it will be vulnerable. Umm, I'd also like to, adress the name Death Star. It's not real positive and I think it might be the reason people are so eager to blow it up.
Public Relations: NO! They must fear us!
Development: With all due respect Lord Vader. I don't think you are a great fit for public relations. I mean it's just that Gaaaaaaaaaaa......
Well, you get the picture. It was pretty frustrating to be that guy. And, the rebels didn't make it any easier for him. Well, Head of Development, this post is dedicated to you.
The Worst Presidents of All Time
Now I know what you are all asking. But Sam, you are (the next great hope for our generation/ undoubtedly the most physically attractive man i've ever seen/father of my child/that kid i made cry on the playground in fifth grade by ripping your brand-new Secret World of Alex Mack shirt.) and are obviously neither of those two things. Well, you are right! I am not those things.
You see, I'm an outside the box thinker, and I saw this as a great new way to educate the public on how right I am and how wrong those are that disagree with me. I will address every question that needs to be answered.
Can a simple blog really hold the answer to all the great questions to life? Yes. Did the previous question count as one of the great questions? Yes, and if you are keeping track that's two already.
Before we jump into things I'd like to write a disclaimer, if you are easily offended, (grow a pair/get the fuck out of here/Sorry mom, you weren't supposed to find this). I'll start my education of all you great people with a quick history lesson.
Throughout our country's great history, we have had some quality presidents. George Washington led our nation's army before it was even a nation and was tall enough in the 1770s to play small forward for the Jazz. Abraham Lincoln threw down the emancipation proclamation and brought top hats into style like he worked for GQ. John F. Kennedy set the bar for many presidents to come by, amidst the Cuban missile crisis and all the other shit going on, still managing to find time to sleep with the most attractive superstar of the times, Marilyn Monroe.
However, not all presidents were good. To the contrary, some were downright awful. Like this guy, who i believe to be the 3rd worst president of all time. Rutherford B. Hayes. Lets just start with the name. Rutherford? I'm sure he never got beat up in school. If he lived now I'm sure he was that kid in the corner of the cafeteria with that ridiculous P.O.G. collection who smelled a little like cat food and insisted you refer to him simply as Red Ranger. Here's the problem Red Rutherford Ranger. You lost the popular vote for president. Yeah, that's right no one wanted you to be president. However, through sexual favors and bribes, you weaseled your way into office by one goddamn electoral vote. Red Ranger, my ass. You are the Blue Ranger at best.
I know what you are thinking. "Wow, who would elect cat food kid to be president, that mean he had to be the worst president of all time." If only, If only. You see many years before Rutherford, there was a president named William Henry Harrison, and he was worse. That's right, this guy set a new bar for suck. After winning the presidential election Harrison, thought "So I got this inauguration thing coming up and it's pretty cold out, but hey what's a jacket to me?" So what did this fucker do? He fucking caught pneumonia and died. He was such a dumb ass he didn't even bother putting on a coat. So, to reiterate, this president died for not wearing a coat. No sniper or angry actor shooting him... pneumonia. WTF.
And now for the coup de grace. The absolute shittiest president of the United States. Warren G. Harding. I don't even know where to begin. This guy's big political scandal was called Teapot Dome. Literally everyone in his cabinet took bribes or blackmailed someone. If he lived today he would likely not think that "Sweetest Girl" was a good song. I just hate this man. I mean I wish i could keep listing things he did, but I'd rather talk about how much I hate him. Sam hating Warren G. Harding > Fergie missing you like a child misses their blanket. I think he died in office just so I might "honor his memory" a little more. Well, No Warren G. Harding. No.
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