Stuff I Hate…
Individually wrapped candies. They’re single-serving one-way tickets to Type 2 diabetes shrouded in bite-sized bits of pollution. Besides, I want immediate gratification. I don’t want to fool around with this much cellophane for one piece of candy at a time. Give me Skittles or Reeces Pieces any day of the week.
Trucks. Sure, I’m always happy to have a friend who will lend me his when I have issues with moving or getting new furniture, but why would you buy a truck? Gas too cheap for you to drive a vehicle that gets decent mileage?
Sunglasses. I can’t read your expression, and if you surprise me wearing them I won’t even know who the fuck you are. It isn’t that bright and you aren’t that cool. Take them the fuck off.
The sun. It’s too hot when it’s up, then it’s always too low in the sky for most of the day, so it gets in my eyes. I hate sunglasses on other people, so I don’t wear them myself. Why can’t it just stay night all the time like it is when I’m awake?
Hugs. I’m not Howard Hughs, but I’m just not a touchy-feely person. I don’t initiate hugs or even handshakes. Sorry. Really, I don’t hate you or think you’re covered with germs (though you are, really). I just hate hugs.
The sound of women peeing. When a guy takes a leak, it just sounds like running water to me, and that’s no big deal. When a girl goes, it sounds like an ass on a toilet, and that’s just gross.
The sound of my neighbor’s dog. The neighbors are okay, but their dog is a fucking idiot. You know these dogs that bark at EVERYTHING? That’s this dog. They’ve lived there for six months or more, but every time the mail-lady walks by, he barks like a fucking idiot. Every time I go in my back yard (which is often because we have dogs of our own who need to be let out), he barks like a fucking idiot. And it isn’t just a bark-bark-bark; it’s a panicked succession of syllables strung so closely together that it’s almost a cross between a howl and a scream from a fucking idiot dog.
Apples. The fruit. I don’t especially like the computers either though.
Hotel showers. In addition to many of them being unnecessarily confusing (e.g., why only *one* knob/lever/whatever for both hot and cold? Okay, only at the ones that are more than $30 a night, obviously), the thing I hate most is there’s no way to predict how many geometric degrees of rotation are equivalent to how many degrees Fahrenheit. You barely touch it and the temperature goes from tepid to scalding. Once you factor the emergency room bill in, that vacation was no bargain after all.
Doctors office forms that ask for your DOB and your age. Do the fucking math, you fucking morons! I seriously cannot trust you jackasses with my bill or anything involving prescriptions if you cannot carry the one and figure out how old I am.
2girls, 1finger, and some more reaction videos
Remember that 2Girls1Cup video? Apparently there’s something worse… judging by these reactions.
“So there went my dinner…”
The return of Kevin and Ronald
Meet Bruno
Two different chicks watching two different chicks
“This isn’t shit, Blaine; this is throwup.”
Share any you find that are on par with these.
February’s DVD reviews, Part II
Titus, 1999 - Remember how cool Baz Lurman’s Romeo & Juliet was in the late ’90s? This was a misguided attempt to replicate it. This film is plenty over the top to the point that it gets just plain ridiculous, but I kind of liked it for that. More interestingly, I was surprised to find that Shakespear was pretty fuckin’ brutal in some of the plays we never got to read in high school!
Time Code, 2000 - Remember how cool Christopher Nolan’s Momento was because it had a gimmick but didn’t let everything ride on it? Well, here’s another time-distorting gimmick only without the substance. Skip it and save your time.
Classic Albums: Judas Priest: British Steel, 2001 - I like the band (but not in a gay way… not that there’s anything wrong with that), but there’s nothing interesting to report here.
Candid Camera: 5 Decades of Smiles: Disc 5, 1949 - The date is deceptive here as the disc actually goes through the ’70s. Most surprising thing caught on camera here: Allen Funt’s wardrobe. WTF?
Weeds, Season 2, Discs 1&2, 2007 - It’s kind of a cartoon, but no one has thrown these elements together in quite this way, and that makes it interesting even though it really isn’t challenging. It isn’t a sitcom, just something different. I think that’s HBO’s motto or something.
Jaws, 1975 - A lot of people regard this as a classic, but it really is an absolute classic. I hadn’t seen it since I was maybe ten, so another trip to these waters was long overdue. Same goes for you.
G’n'R: Use Your Illusion II, 1992 - This is more embarrassing on so many levels than the fact I’m admitting having watched it. The performance by all is lackluster at best and, frankly, pretty bad in spots. Axl is a parody of himself with his costume changes literally every other song. This is so from removed what good management and therapy should have pulled out of these guys that it’s more tragic than Titus.
Thinner, 2003 - Really bad adaptation of the first Stephen King book I tried to read and never bothered to finish.
Riding the Bullet, 2004 - Really, really bad adaptation of something else I never read by Stephen King.
Black Sabbath: The Dio Years, 2007 - Just a VH1 special that’s all talk and no music.
Baadasssss!, 2003 - The made-for-cable true story of some badass filmmaking.
Disturbia, 2007 - Rear Window meets The Burbs meets American Pie. However, in spite of the obvious sources, the movie itself is surprisingly compelling thanks to a likable performance from that kid in Transformers and a great ass on his next-door neighbor. That is, until it starts to get stupid toward the end.
Jesus Camp, 2006 - You ever have a mentally ill friend or family member and constantly find yourself torn between anger at the situation and pity for the fact they’ll likely never find a way to pull themselves out of it? If you enjoy that kind of rush of conflicting but entirely negative emotions, this is the film for you.
Desperate Housewives: Season 3, Discs 3&4 - Better than the second season, not as good as the first. Felicity Huffman’s still my favorite though, I don’t care what you say.
Twin Peaks definitive edition, Discs 9&10 - I rented it for the extras (having seen the series at least three times through by this point). And the extras are awesome! …at least if you’re a big Peaks-freak like myself. One of the best and most thorough collections of interviews, promos, and other goodies and leftovers (not many deleted scenes though, sadly). Well worth the seemingly interminable wait for Lynch to get his shit together here.
Away from Her, 2006 - Quiet little movie about Alzheimer’s by (unexpectedly) first-time director Sarah Polley. Slow (though appropriately so), but very good.
The Science of Sleep, 2006 - Michel Gondry’s rehash of leftover ideas from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Lots of good stuff here that never gels.
PICKS OF THE LITTER: Titus is such a train wreck in some ways and genius in others that it ought to be rediscovered and Disturbia does a great job of elevating mediocre material through good direction and fun performances. And the last gasp from Twin Peaks is a treat for those imprinted by the series in the ’90s.
I am a genius.
Consider the following…
The Who have a dead bass player (John Entwhistle) and a dead drummer (Keith Moon).
The Beatles have a dead guitarist (George Harrison) and a dead singer (John Lennon).
The Who are left with a living lead guitarist (Pete Townshend) and living lead singer (Roger Daltry).
The Beatles are left with a living bass player (Paul McCartney) and living drummer (Ringo Starr).
Why has no one proposed The Who-tles?!
I have a huge cock
Since Tracy* outs me to even almost complete strangers, I’m just going to preemptively out myself to everyone else:
Hi, everyone. I’m Alex, and I have a huge cock.
I guess most guys and even some girls wish they had a huge cock as well, at least on special occasions. Well, speaking from experience, having a huge cock isn’t a completely great thing, but I’m not going to complain about it (and neither has anyone else, if you catch my meaning). Specifically, some consequences of having a huge cock include:
I am awesome in bed without actually trying. Really, I can just phone it in. In fact, I could practically be flaccid and you would still be satisfied. Repeatedly.
I am always right. Most guys with an average-to-small penis are too distracted by being short-changed (so to speak) to really devote time to fact-checking or actually knowing everything. It is apparently an incredibly time-consuming thing to worry about ways to compensate for having a small penis, but that’s the one thing I wouldn’t know about.
I don’t care that I drive a ‘92 Civic. Guys who drive a Hummer want a hummer of a different kind. The dubious rationale here is that their excessive car will project onto any female’s perception of what’s between their legs. My little car is offset by the fact my reputation is almost as big as my cock. And speaking of hummers…
I am not fixated on blow jobs. Most guys like blow jobs for two reasons: 1) They certainly can’t please you sexually with their cock, so why bother? and 2) It can’t help but look bigger if it’s right in your face. Neither is really an issue for me, and I don’t want to give you TMJ trying give me a BJ.
I’m a lover not a boxer. Me wearing boxers instead of briefs is impractical for all the reasons why Dolly Parton would never wear a t-shirt instead of a bra. It isn’t an advanced engineering problem for you to figure out that I stick with briefs because I only know how to walk on two legs.
I don’t wear shorts. Have you wondered why you’ve never seen me in shorts? Elastic in briefs isn’t fool proof, and that’s doubly true if it’s brought to bear against a much heavier load than designers ever considered. You know, if it wasn’t for shrinkage, even my bathing suit wouldn’t be safe from wardrobe malfunctions.
Porn is funny to me. You know how girls typically find porn more funny than erotic? I have the same reaction, though likely for very different reasons entirely.
I am always happy. This is a corollary of the above, but not because I watch porn when I need a laugh. I’m always happy because if all else fails, I know they could use me in the movies now that Ron Jeremy has retired to reality tv.
I am immortalized in artwork. Granted, much of this is by amateurs with Sharpies in public toilets, but such is my legend that it inspires tributes of all kinds from people I’ve never even met.
I am very humble. I suppose if you didn’t know about the size of my cock, you might think I was a bit self-centered. The earth does not revolve around my cock (in spite of its great mass), but you probably should in one way or another. After all, relativity being what it is, my ego is nothing compared to my cock.
*Disclaimer: Tracy has never seen my cock and will be the first to tell you she doesn’t want to. I think it’s because I’m way too old for her (read: cougar). The rest of you, get in line.
‘Gilligan’s’ Mary Ann caught with dope
AP 3/11/2008
[My comments in bold, as always.]
DRIGGS, Idaho - Dawn Wells, who played Mary Ann on “Gilligan’s Island,” is serving six months’ unsupervised probation after allegedly being caught with marijuana in her car. [The dope this time wasn't Gilligan, so keep your snide comments to yourself, Skipper.]
She was sentenced Feb. 29 to five days in jail, fined $410.50 and placed on probation after pleading guilty to one count of reckless driving. [In an interview at the time of her incarceration, Mary Ann said that while the fines and legal fees were covered by her generous millionaire friend Thurston, the conditions of her incarceration included "not a single luxury... Like Robinson Crusoe, it's primitive as can be."]
Under a plea agreement, three misdemeanor counts — driving under the influence, possession of drug paraphernalia and possession of a controlled substance — were dropped. [This was due in large measure by the Professor's expert testimony in which he cast doubt on the singularly illicit purpose of these items, demonstrating that, together with a conch shell and a palm frond, they could be fashioned into a shortwave radio.]
On Oct. 18, Teton County sheriff’s Deputy Joseph Gutierrez arrested Wells as she was driving home from a surprise birthday party that was held for her. According to the sheriff’s office report, Gutierrez pulled Wells over after noticing her swerve and repeatedly speed up and slow down. When Gutierrez asked about a marijuana smell, Wells said she’d just given a ride to three hitchhikers and had dropped them off when they began smoking something. Gutierrez found half-smoked joints and two small cases used to store marijuana. ["Castaways," she described them.]
The 69-year-old Wells, founder of the Idaho Film and Television Institute and organizer of the region’s annual family movie festival called the Spud Fest, then failed a sobriety test. [In her defense, she was attempting to gain favor with the officer by imitating the graceful gait of her movie star friend, Ginger. Unfortunately, being a simple farm girl, she hadn't yet gotten the hang of heels.]
Wells’ lawyer, Ron Swafford, said that a friend of Wells’ testified that he’d left a small amount of marijuana in the vehicle after using it that day, and that Wells was unaware of it. Swafford also said several witnesses were prepared to testify that Wells had very little to drink at the party and was not intoxicated when she left. He said she was swerving on the road because she was trying to find the heater controls in her new car. [Ironically, the swerving of a different, similarly incompently-captained vehicle is what caused her to be trapped with a different handful of hapless individuals some years earlier.]
The unAlexploited version of this article originally appeared here:
http://www.yahoo.com/s/829202
Masturbation isn’t quite useless
We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless.
- Oscar Wilde
Preface to The Picture of Dorian Gray
I’ve heard Tolkien’s work described as him building with words what, say, an electric train enthusiast builds with hot glue guns and foamcore (or whatever they use). Tolkien made a little world for himself out of the very descriptions of that world. Other writers do much the same in ways of their own. Personally, I tend to occupy a mental space made more out of ideas and perspectives than narratives and characters, but the principle is the same.
When I write, I’m taking my thoughts and crystallizing them into something tangible until I can let go of them or at least let them run in the background of my consciousness. Until I get it out of my system, I am nagged by recurrent thoughts that won’t let me be. Any guy would read that last sentence as a description of masturbation. See, masturbation is all about getting it out of your system. As pleasurable as the process might be (given the right stimulation), you’re happiest when it’s over because you’ve abated an otherwise distracting drive for a while… at least until it builds back up again.
On the other hand, masturbation typically isn’t a spectator sport where I’m concerned (I don’t speak for everyone, obviously). Some of my friends journal privately, but that seems like a waste. I do at least share a lot of what I write even if only (and I’ve been criticized for this) sparingly or at least on my own terms. For example, I restrict personal items (i.e., things about myself) to bulletins. I reserve more general interest items to the blog. Bulletins don’t get commented on unless a reader emails me directly. Bulletins have a much more limited audience. Bulletins expire. I have no idea how many folks even read them. Odds are less than a quarter of my friend list once you subtract the friends who rarely log on or the bands with a few thousand friends or the friends with a few thousand bands on their list. And some folks just don’t care, but I don’t care that they don’t care. I don’t read everything everyone posts either.
What I do is share what I’ve written down because, hell, maybe you’ll get something out of the way I waste my time trying to make sense of the world. Maybe my thoughts will inspire thoughts of your own or maybe you’ll learn something that will make you more productive in some way, even if it’s just writing down what you’re thinking about now. I don’t know that my writing is “art” exactly, but I appreciate it whenever I get admiring comments and I appreciate others making their thoughts available for others to comment upon.
So, to borrow from Oscar Wilde for a second time, make art for art’s sake. But that doesn’t mean all art is useless. If that “art” happens to be fun or therapeutic or helpful to someone in some way, then at least you’ve gotten something out of it, and maybe we’ll admire it intensely as well.
Dieting
A few years back I found myself piling on the weight. I was up perhaps as much as 40lbs over where I am at the moment. I couldn’t tell you where I topped out because, like a lot of people who end up out of control, I never wanted to weigh myself during that time.
I took it off, obviously, but I never had a diet plan exactly. Instead, I fundamentally changed what I bought, what I ate, and how I lived my life.
If you are in a position where you need to trim down, hopefully some of these can help you as well:
Never eat French fries. They’re the devil. I’m serious. I flat-out stopped getting the combo meal after I read this: http://gladwell.com/2001/2001_03_05_a_fries.htm
There’s such a thing as leftovers. Odds are, you’re eating to finish the plate. What’s on your plate is more salient to most folks than what your stomach is telling you. Get a “to go” box instead of forcing it. It’ll keep. Really.
Eat everything in the house. Okay, this sounds counter-intuitive, but here’s the plan: Don’t buy any more food until you’ve eaten all of what you’ve bought over the years. You know how you buy things thinking you’ll get around to making them, but you never do? I refer to those lapses as investing in frozen assets. It’s a waste of money, and clearing out the back of the freezer and pantry will mean you’re eating things that you probably aren’t going to gorge yourself on… else you would have eaten them already.
Don’t eat until you’re hungry. This ought to be common sense, but some senses are less subtle than others. A lot of the time you find yourself eating because you’re bored or a snack is something that represents a break in your schedule. Instead, stop and listen to your body. Before you get up to grab a bite, ask your stomach if it wantssomething to eat or if it needs something to eat.
Stop eating your favorite food. It’s that simple, and it’s the single most effective strategy. Whatever that happens to be, it’s probably the worst thing for you and you eat more of it than anything else. For me, it was Skittles and chocolate chip cookies. I simply decided that was the end of them. I stopped buying them, and I stopped gaining weight… and then lost most of it.
