Friday, January 27, 2006

Live blogging Jerry Springer

Editors Note: Don't ask me what the hell I was thinking because I'm just not sure.

4:11---Ol dude just confessed to sleeping with his g/f's mom for two years. Shocking.

4:13--Oh SNAP! Turns out g/f has been doing it his best friend, "E" for the last 8 mos. "E" looks a lot like QuestLove (the drummer). Neither one can fight. Short white guy and QuestLove, should be quite a matchup.

4:19--Commercials. I love the commercials they show on Springer. Invention Kits, nice.

4:20--Did yo phone get turnt off? We'll get your phone turnt back oun fast. Rent-a-Center, I can get a free month! Fuckin sweet, now I can get that sectional I've had my eye on.

4:23--New people. Now we have Derek. He's gonna tell his g/f he's been sleeping with a transexual for the last 8 mos.

4:25--Rachel comes in, finds Springer and tries turning to Oprah. She thinks just cuz she's a Roshambo champ she can do whatever. I broke out a pimp hand and now we're back to Springer :)

4:28--Shit! Cash AND I get to keep my car? Why did no one tell me about this before!!!

4:30--Brenda is in denial and they are fighting. It's almost tranny time.

4:31--Tranny "Candice" is out on stage. Oddly enough, Candice has a prettier face than the g/f (did I just say that?). Good thing Candice is a man, he's whippin that girls ass.

4:35--The gall of that g/f. She was bugging her man to get a damn job! What the hell was he supposed to do? You can only resist the trannies for so long when your needs ain't bein' attended to.

4:37--Here's some insight into where I live. FOX News was voted as the best news in Kansas. Nuff Said.

4:42--New girl Sherry. Married two months found out hubby was cheating with her best friend before they were married. She's says she'll kick that bitches ass. Well see, she doesn't look very in shape.

4:44--Her friend is even bigger! It's like two dark-haired marshmallows colliding. Uh-oh, they're bringing out Billy Rae. Holy Shit, BR looks like Chris Ferguson, but on a lot more meth.

4:47--Jerry just called one of them beautiful. What a kidder. He was just really drunk it was a one time thing, he doesn't see the big deal. I don't either really (Sorry Rach--poor attempt at scarcasm).
waitaminute--marshmallows bouncing again--nope, commercials
4:50--Audience participation time, the freaks are lined up for viewing.

4:52--White girl just said black g/f looked like a man. Oh no she di'int.

4:53--FATTEST. GIRL. EVER. Just yanked off her shirt. I feel dirty.

4:57--Jerry is giving his thought provoking final thought, so I'll give mine. Don't be like me. I just wasted good blogging space doing a stupid thing. I am dumber for having watched that. Thanks go to Gracie, for the idea of copying the Good Doctor :)

Give Pauly a hand, you sonsubitches

Pauly is busy providing live-blogging goodness to the world, so I thought I would help him call out for Truckin submissions. A bunch of you guys and gals out there can write well, so do it. I want to see another issue!

Surely you can eclipse my own meager literary droppings.

Commercial Possibilities

There’s nothing quite like writing a 2,000 word analysis on organizational psychology in the morning to get the creative motors grinding to a full stop. The gross and incessant tedium of schoolwork mixed with a healthy dose of soulless corporate existence really put the kibosh on an excellent story idea I had last night. It gives a good lesson though, somewhere along the same lines of investment advice that states “pay yourself first.” I thought that by being dutiful all morning I would have an easy mind when doing the fun stuff of writing, but the duties sapped everything. Lesson learned. Seize inspiration when it arrives because it’s not a big fan of hanging out.


The pinnacle of intellectual prowess that sits across the wall from me, as opposed to the rest that are scattered throughout the joint, used to sell advertising for Clear Channel. As it turns out, she also knows a lot of the other Account Executives (I love the flowery titles given to the crappiest jobs) at local TV stations. Being in an uncharacteristically good mood that was likely due to the fact I was on my last half hour of work for the week, I decided to be civil and carry on a conversation with her that lasted more than 30 seconds. And while I would normally prefer watching grass grow, paint dry, or find inventive ways to torture myself with various pieces of semi-dangerous office equipment, I’m happy I took the time because I found out some interesting info on television advertising.

I figure that I know about what anyone else does concerning these things, the pinnacle of my knowledge being that a 30-second spot during the Super Bowl costs more than a small war. It turns out that on some of the more awesome stations like UPN and the WB it only costs around five bucks to air a 30-second spot in the morning. Being on the rotation for a certain few hours in the morning doesn’t cost much more. Hell, even prime time on these crappy stations is pretty cheap.

At these prices, the possibilities are endless.

Imagine the demographic that watches the entertainment smorgasbord aired by these stations in the morning hours. Now, imagine creeping these people right the hell out. 30 seconds of me just staring at the camera and blinking. Wait, make that 24 seconds. The final 6 seconds of the spot would be spent tapping on the glass, pointing, and then saying “I see you.”

Next commercial break, I’m reading a book (or whatever) and not looking at the screen. All of the sudden, my head jerks up.

“What did you just say to me?”
(Lean forward, get in the camera’s face)
(really make a concerted effort to act insane and raving)
“If you wanna stay healthy, you'll repeat what you just said to my face!”
(wait, start nodding head, affect creepy calm manner)
“Fine. I’m tired of this shit.”
(throw down the book—break something)
“I’m coming over there and then we’ll see how fuckin’ smart you are!”
(storm off)

If it caused even one person to be completely weirded out for the rest of their day it would be worth it, no?

Fine, you’re right, I’m a retard.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Help me out here

Dear blogsphere friends,

Rachel and I are fighting, you must help us.

She is convinced that this is a hoax I keep telling her it's real. I'm trying to convince her that folks this good do exist. Please comment your opinion and prove one of us right.

(it's a vicious fight, she even punched me :))

Strange Searchers

I don’t normally talk too much about the search terms that people use in somehow ending up at this site, mostly because everyone and their Mom already write posts of the same nature, but some of the keywords I’ve run across lately are compelling me. I would say that approximately 40% of them are searching for stats on “size of the human head” or “how much does a human head weigh?” For these people I say watch Jerry McGuire and you’ll have all the info you need from the spectacled little kid.

Then there are the depraved of our race that find their way to my doorstep (not literally, thank gawd). For whatever reason, these seem to run in peaks and valleys. “Big head cock” seems to be a favorite, along with “picture of” the same. One of the strangest was “human head inside an ass.” Good Lord, I’ve seen more than my share of the freaky, deviant, and disgusting, but I have a hard time believing that any variation of this is physically possible. Even if it is possible, why the hell are you tying to find it? Never mind, I don’t really want to know.

In the not-really-creepy-but-but-maybe-just-a-little category, we have “steeler dessert plates.” Why a little creepy? Ever since I was a kid I’ve been a creeped out by collectible utensils. I’m not sure why this is, but if I see collectible plates or silverware when I walk into a house my first instinct is to run right back out again. I think the root of this one is that my evil whore of a grandmother (don’t be so shocked, she’s one of the most evil people I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing) collected commemorative spoons, but I digress. No plates or spoons or anything commemorative on this blog at this time. Move along please.

(That just gave me an idea. Maybe I could bring these creepy demographics together and have plates featuring big head cocks of the world. A lot of strange cats would get their particular fix and I would profit! Not only that, but when people ask what I do for a living I can say, “I sell commemorative penises.” Goddamn if that isn’t almost as cool as being a Nougat Farmer.<--I think that is G-Rob’s but I can’t find the post—if anyone can help me out this lazy time-crunched guy would appreciate it)

I would certainly be remiss if I didn’t wind down with “I hate my big head.” For this sad soul I can only offer the following advice: Learn to love it, because you’re stuck with it, my friend. If you can’t do that then bone up on your head-butting that way you can teach people to respect it, at least. Besides, you know what they say about guys with big heads…

(Oh man I wish I had a funny penis joke here—I’m fresh out)

They fall down a lot as children.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006


Yesterday I forgot to mention my weekend discovery, which I’m sure most anyone else reading this already knows. After doing well at the $10 SnG’s for the day I decided to hop into a $20 to round out the day. I have enough of a bankroll to play these, but given that I’m ultra-conservative with it, it’s not to the point where I feel I can or should play them exclusively. I think that mindset may be shifting, however, as I discovered that play at the $20’s is as bad or worse than the $10’s and even lower. I’ve only played a couple, so my discovery may not be indicative of the norm, but damn the play is terrible. Rampant hyper-aggressive idiocy. Can someone that plays this level SnG let me know if this is accurate? I was shocked because I figured I would encounter a better level of play and thus far it’s been quite the opposite. If my impressions are indeed reasonably accurate I may just have to jump out of my comfort zone a bit sooner than I planned.


I desperately need this sickness to go away. Walking through every day is much like slogging through mud, and class last night didn’t make things any better. Four hours of pure drivel. I thought that my degree classes were dumb, but slogging my way through the last couple Gen Ed’s that I need is pure torture. Thank God I can get on FullTilt (Bonus Code: HHEAD) during class; it keeps the things to a dull buzz in the background and I can turn a dull experience into a profitable one.

It certainly beats trying to dream up inventive ways to kill oneself with various unlikely objects, such as eating my battery pack, trying to suffocate myself with my laptop bag, or perhaps impaling myself on one of the legs my chair. Is this mechanical pencil sharp enough for me to give myself a lobotomy? I really think that in the not too distant future we might see the emergence of a new phenomenon called “Death by PowerPoint.” Thanks Microsoft, for giving the world this wondrous software and making poor speakers even more teh suck. Meh.


Warning: If you don’t like political rants, stop reading here.

I was helping out one of my users yesterday who was having problems with their VPN and noticed that this person had NPR on. I really like NPR (not sure where that puts me on the huge nerd scale, but it must be pretty high. Probably somewhere in between huger and hugest) and had forgotten about it, and it made working a bit nicer, until…..

My ears perked up at the mention of Manhattan, KS, home of K-State. It’s beside the point, but I find whoever it was that gave the town its name to be pretty audacious, considering that it’s neither a city nor is it metropolitan in any way. Like I said, beside the point. Evidently, G-dubya was speaking by phone to some rally or another on the campus, trying to gain support from the people to help him and his administration in their efforts to overturn Roe v. Wade. Then, I heard uttered a most frightening turn of phrase, one that I’m sure the Pres has stated before, but this was the first time I’ve heard it. (This quote may not be word for word as I’m recalling it from memory, but it is definitely accurate enough—pull the transcripts if you have a penchant for exactitude)

“We need to overturn this law in order to bring our Culture of Life to the world”

Dear.God. He did not just say “Culture of Life”

It’s like waking up every day and finding that we’ve regressed a bit further into a medieval age, where religious fervor reigned supreme. Isn’t this exactly the thing that this country is supposed to be founded against, religious fanatacism? Why have we forgotten this? Those three little words chill my blood, it’s fucking scary. What next? Start giving people suspected of a crime the drowning test? If they don’t drown they must be in league with an insidious foreign terrorist devil and if they die then they were innocent, its God’s will, right? Hell, let’s just officially revive the Inquisition. It worked really well for all involved back then, why not now?

Here’s the thing. I don’t really care what your personal opinion on abortion is, my own opinion on the subject included. It’s not important because it’s a personal belief/opinion. If you want one, fine. If you’re against it wholeheartedly, fine. We must stop efforts to legislate dogma. Separation of church and state is in place for a reason. We were founded on freedom, and within this freedom is the right to make the choices we think are the best for us in our pursuit of happiness.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

And that’s all I’ve got to say about that. For now, at least.

Monday, January 23, 2006

A sporting weekend

Friday I was feeling a bit stir crazy, and after having made myself stay away for so long, I figured that it was high time I jump on the WPBT IRC channel. Why did I wait so long? Well, it may sound silly and stupid, but the primary reason for doing so is the addictive power of hanging with the blogging bretheren. I have a giant fear that hanging out in the channel will end up monopolizing too much of my time. Yep, definitely silly and stupid, but hey, it is what it is.

I was also flattened by sickness Friday evening and it continued through the entire weekend. Hey waitaminute….Gracie was hanging out in the channel on Friday….then I got sick. Could it be that she has contagion powers over the ether? Further investigation may be warranted.

Many thanks to April for the great HORSE tourney, it was great fun even though I played like a complete donkey, lemur, fucktard, asshat, barely functioning retard, (insert you’re your favorite poker adjective for poor play here). Can someone please explain for the love of God why in the hell do I constantly get the greatest Stud hands on the planet whenever Razz comes around, but when we’re back to Stud I’m dealt a never-ending stream of premium Razz holdings? A rigged conspiracy, I tell ya. (I keed)

I stayed in line with things I never do this weekend by watching some football, as well. Sort of. I watched the tail end of the Steelers game and was easily bored because it was just a massacre and waited for the Seattle game. No excitement there either, as Seattle treated Carolina like its bitch the entire time. I watch football approximately four times per year so when I do I want the game to be close and exciting, dammit. Let’s hope the Super Bowl gives us a better contest.

I cleaned a couple of $10+1 toilets this weekend, so I decided to spend a portion of the profits on the Morales/Paquiao fight. I’m pretty much against sports betting in general because I know little about it save the fact that people lose GOBS of money doing it. However, I was tempted more than once to put money on Pacquiao. Of course, the fight was every bit as fantastic as the first and Pacquiao beat Morales down quite efficiently. Yet another case of not going with my gut and being poorer for it. Don’t be like me.

That’s all I have time to scratch out today, kiddo’s. I am slammed at work and have school tonight so I’ll catch ya tomorrow.