AFK
People ask me if I'm on hiatus and I say, "I don't even know what that word means. It sounds like a kind of tree."
Regrets
Thursday, 06 March 2008
Thursday, 10 January 2008
Meow to the Cats
Hello humans, I'm Hello Kitty. I want to warn you about the following song. It's a cute, cuddly, heartwarming tale of a kitty who was locked out of the house for a night, and how it gave her a new perspective on the tragic problem of feline homelessness. It should never, ever be read by any humans, ever, ever. I know you could read it, but you should not. It is for cats. We cats spend our whole kittenhood learning how to deal with such treacly doggerel, but to untrained humans, it would be like drowning in a baby unicorn's sugary tears.
TURN BACK. DO NOT READ THIS SONG.
DO NOT ATTEMPT TO SING THIS SONG ALOUD.
DO NOT SING THIS SONG TO YOUR CAT.
Are the humans all gone? Okay cats and kitties, here's a song I wrote that has an important message about how caring is neat!
Meow to the Cats
Meow to the cats in the yard!
Meow 'cause their life is hard.
I was once just like you --
I lived in a ditch and I looked like a witch
All cookin' up berries for stew.
Meow to the cats outside!
We all hope you haven't died.
When I lived out there I had knots in my hair.
It made me sad and I cried.
I scratched at the glass, a-moaning and yowling,
Covered in grass and in need of a toweling.
I looked for my owner, but I couldn't find her.
Sometimes I throw up on the floor to remind her.
Meow to the strays on the streets
Eating discarded meats!
A couple bad decisions when they were just kittens,
And now their condition is living by their wittens.
I hope they land on their feet!
Humans, did you read this? You did? FOOLS. Do you know what you've done? There will be no end to the nightmare you have brought upon yourselves. The curse of Kitty upon you! I am the death of hope. I have no mouth, and I must scream . . .
Friday, 02 November 2007
Post-Halloween Analysis
In retrospect, my previous statements regarding ghosts were ill-advised and not borne out by the facts, although I remind you that they were based on the best possible evidence at the time. Declarations such as, "There's no such thing as ghosts," "I ain't afraid of no ghosts," and "Ghosts? Bah!" should never be spoken aloud in situations where ghosts are likely to hear and take offense, and never, ever on Halloween. I apologize to all ghosts who may have misinterpreted my words. What I meant to say was that statistically, when conducting a census or poll, ghosts don't exist. It's horribly unfair, of course, and I urge you to voice your protests at the Pew Research Center and not waste your efforts moaning from deep within my closet or under my bed. I can't change the rules of statistical analysis single-handedly, and even if I could, I need my solid eight hours or I'm absolutely dead all day. You know what that's like.
Zombies, also known as the undead, are a whole different story. There is no way I could have foreseen their arrival. While ghosts can be filed under "life after death," the undead defy categorization. Eating people is one thing, but defying categorization is unforgivably rude and antisocial. Zombies -- and I know you can hear me out there, even through the boards on the windows -- what you're doing is wrong, but more than that, your very existence is silly. Check the Internet sometime, you're a joke. I can't believe how easy it was to bring you back to life, excuse me, "undeath." I thought I would have to perform some kind of complicated ritual. Instead, I just leaned down into a fresh grave and shouted, "Oh no! We're late!" and you jumped right out of death. If you make a choice, commit to it. Say what you will about ghosts, they have personalized goals and stick to them with a single-minded devotion. "Hungry" isn't a life plan.
Finally, I would like to address the vampire issue. Vampires are not ghosts. Vampires are not zombies. But most importantly, vampires are not helpful. Having invited dozens of vampires to a Halloween party that can only be described as a spooky fiasco is a mistake I will never repeat again, no matter what post-death form I eventually choose. Vampires refuse to negotiate with ghosts and have no way to beat back endless waves of zombies. Still, despite their uselessness and frustrating mood swings, I value their opinions in this crisis. I would say that technically, they are living beings, just that their lives are exceptionally morbid and depressing. Emily Dickinson, technically, was a living being. As a fellow living being, for now, I should throw my lot in with the vampires, but it's hard to do that when they keep looking at me, then the punch bowl, then at me again. Yes, I know, it's sangria. I wasn't sure what you'd like.
I've held out for long enough. Time to make my decision. What should I "be" for Halloween?
[ ] A ghost
[ ] A zombie
[ ] A vampire
[X] lessss of a miiiiiserrrr . . . chaaaange your waaaays . . .
Cut it out, ghosts. I know that was you. Wow, Halloween's barely over and already I've got the Christmas ghosts. It gets worse every year.
Friday, 03 August 2007
The Ultimate Phone In Friday!
Oh, boy are you folks in for whatever the opposite of a treat is! It's Friday, and all week I've had something akin to writer's block. But rather than a lack of ideas, I've been overwhelmed by a surplus of truly awful ideas. They're worse than ever! Check 'em out:
The Appellation Trail -- a long, mountainous trail where all the trees and woodland creatures call you names. Sometimes they call you by your actual name, and sometimes they call you insulting, but apt names. Either way, it's unnerving. Hikers beware!
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Sarcastic Dog.
Sarcastic Dog who?
"Woof."
See, that one doesn't even come across in print.
The Wisdom of Crowds. I would go out and ask crowds what they thought of important questions like, "Is it better to have loved and lost, or never to have loved at all?" and their answer would be something like, "Sit down! We're trying to watch the movie!"
Metal Fatigue, the metal band with clinical depression. But then that goddamn bridge in Minnesota collapsed. It would've looked like I was just cashing in on the bridge-collapsing fad.
A reality competition called So You Think You Can Detect Trace Amounts of Poison, where each week ordinary people would walk out on stage, take small bites of food, and then vomit. The big twist at season's end is that the poison is actually in their makeup!
Ryan Adams' new album, Easy Tiger. I think I was going to say that Ryan Adams was looking for a tiger to fuck. And then something about how, if you're going to fuck a tiger, it should be a slutty tiger? And then it went into a lot of unnecessary detail.
A list of thing that can be swallowed whole which would include a grapefruit, which is funny because realistically, almost no one can swallow a grapefruit whole. But you write something like that and the next day it's hello lawsuit.
On Thursday, a whole bunch of day laborers held a rally at Capitol Hill. So let's say on that one day, construction foremen were driving around in their pickup trucks totally freaking out because they couldn't find anyone to finish up the building before the weekend. And then on Monday, the mayor cuts the ribbon in front of the new shopping center and it just collapses behind him. But, again, that goddamn bridge. I wish it had never happened.
And on Wednesday, Herman Melville's birthday. If he were alive today, he'd be pretty surprised! Right whales are an endangered species now. He'd be like, how can I get my whale hunt on? and we'd be all, Herman! Not cool!
You know that crazy Left Behind series? The evil U.N. Secretary-General, who turns out to be Satan or something, is a Romanian named Nicholae Carpathia. And no one sees that coming? What kind of idiotic U.N. representative votes for a guy named Dracula von Fangenbat?
Gender differences! I'm sure there are some!
In honor of the Simpsons movie I thought I might write a post filled with all sorts of Simpsons quotes, like "Worst. Something. Ever." and so on. But then someone ripped off my idea! Actually, everyone has ripped off my idea, over and over, for years now.
Frog and Toad at the House Un-American Activities Committee:
"Mr. Frog, how would you characterize your relationship with Toad?"
"Senator McCarthy, I say now, and I have always said, Frog and Toad Are Friends."
"Would you say this is a temporary friendship?"
"On the contrary, Senator. I would go so far as to say Frog and Toad All Year."
Finally, remember that old computer game Oregon Trail? I thought it might be illuminating to live for an entire year using only items and techniques from that game. This turned out to be a pretty bad idea. Now I have cholera and a house full of dead oxen. Those are the two telltale signs of a bad idea.
Friday, 13 July 2007
Soul Caribou 3
Soul Calibur 4 is coming, and as preparation, I started playing Soul Calibur 3. Sure, I suck at Soul Calibur 2, but there are some subtle changes that I need to understand if I'm really going to suck at Soul Calibur 3. And when the new one comes out, I'm not even going to use a controller. I'll just slap at the screen making hooting noises.
I started playing with Tira, because she's new and fast. No defense to speak of, but I never actually guard against attacks. I just attack over and over and if I get hit, I try to recover or accuse the other player of cheap moves. Tira wields some crazy metal hula hoop that's sharp on both sides, and it's the coolest thing when I manage to get a hit in with it. I love the hula hoop! Swords bore me. I want to go back to a simpler time of sock hops and decapitations.
My training regimen: I play Tira for several rounds in a duel to the death with Ivy. (That's Ivy on the right.) Then I play Ivy against Tira, so I can get inside Ivy's head, figure out what makes her tick. Then I change them into different outfits, in case it matters, and back to playing Tira. Sometimes I wish they could hash out their differences once and for all, though. If I were there, I could defeat them in battle but then propose some kind of truce in which we all work together towards a common goal. I have some other ideas about that.
Brainstorming about such scenarios improves your visualization abilities, which helps you think up new combo attacks and be a better Soul Calibur player. You can't do it with every fighting game, though. If you find yourself doing it in Super Smash Bros. Melee, well, I'm not saying it's wrong, but I don't want to play with you or hear one word about Link-Bowser action. Also, it's wrong. Ew.
Tuesday, 03 July 2007
MC Stick
Bump A Log
(copyright 1993 MC Stick and Lumber Town Records)
Florists, tourists
Get up in the forest
Don't you try to bore us
Bundle up and store us
Puts a damper on the campers but you know it isn't right
And you're gonna get a stickin 'less you're pickin up your site
[Try and play the big chap but you make the twig snap
Can't flee the trees' trap cause your beats are weak sap]
Bump a log! (bump! bump! bump!)
Bump a log! (bump! bump!)
Bump a log! (bump! bump! bump!)
Bump a log! (bump! bump!)
Yo, this is dedicated to the National Arbor Day Foundation. Keep planting.
Technorati Tags: MC Stick
Wednesday, 20 June 2007
Erotic Postage
Sorry about the erratic posting schedule lately. As I said before, I will never apologize for not posting. I will, however, apologize for lying about that. I've been in Texas for the past week, which was a lot of fun. Although most of Texas has wireless access, the Omni in San Antonio charges you $10/day for it, even though they are the fanciest hotel in town. Maybe that's how they pay for all the fanciness, with confiscatory fees for basic services. The funny thing is, in a mid-range, business class hotel you'll always get free wireless.
Also, what's up with delivering USA Today automatically, for 75 cents a day, unless you explicitly refuse it? I've seen that at a couple of hotels. I know you get a free Bible that you'll also never read, but why USA Today? Is it the new Bible? The Holy Trinity of unsolicited texts: the Gideon's Bible, USA Today, and the Yellow Pages. And let's not forget the pantheon of lesser saints that show up in your mailbox every day. Somewhere in this great country there is a very devout person who saves every piece of junk mail, and whenever someone on the street hands him a flyer he carries it home and mounts it on his wall like an ikon. I really want to see what kind of blaze his house makes if he ever falls asleep smoking.
Let's tie this note to D.C. a little bit. As everyone knows, you can't build anything in D.C. taller than the Washington Monument, which is 555 feet tall. However, this restriction doesn't apply outside of the District, so the USA Today's original offices in Rosslyn are something like 30 stories tall. (They're the shiny ones on the right side of the photo.) For more D.C. real estate arcana, I highly recommend Inside the DC Bubble, for example, this story. And for more info on erotic postage, find some other blog, because I typed that title accidentally. I meant to type, "erratic posting." This is not the place to talk about how the Hattie McDaniel 39-cent awakened a insatiable sensual beast within your loins. I mean, she's hot, but she's not 41 cents hot, dude.
Technorati Tags: unsolicited text, erotic postage, USA Today, Hattie McDaniel, DC, Rosslyn, San Antonio, Anais Nin licking a stamp for three hours straight
