Because I Care

I give you this. And when you speak of me, speak well.

What I Love About Bruce Springsteen Is. . .

. . . How he can write a sharp political protest song and still make me giggle like ze leetle girl.

Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuce!

Living In The Future
Magic
Bruce Springsteen, officially
Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band, in reality

My Moo Doesn't Understand Some Of My Posts

I had to explain to her, "This is all just random, here. There is no narrative."

"Ah," she replied. "That helps."

"I've transcended the narrative."

"You've transcended the narrative, all right."

heh

I Laughed So Hard I Gave Myself A Coughing Fit: Worst Cats

http://worstcats.tumblr.com/

It's pretty new, so I ended up reading the whole thing.

Seriously, my chest hurts right now.

Sometimes Lin likes to email me things that shut down my day. I'm in recovery over here.

"Never ascribe to malice that which can be explained by incompetence." 145, 131

O Yaweh, give me the strength of this conviction. Because earlier today I had some communication and experienced the following reaction.

Oh, I shouldn't take things personally because I have nothing to do with this.

Oh, fokken L, I do have something to do with this shite. Fook.

At first I'm like:

Then I think:

 

Then I'm all:

And I get really:

But finally, I'm like:

Scores in the title.

OMG WUT OMG

My mother is psychologically passive aggressively abusing me! Help! Send help!

pee ess: you know i lubs you mooooooooooooooo!

Whoa! Didn't See That One Coming

Genesis, Invisible Touch (Live), The Way We Walk-Vol. 1: The Shorts (Live)


She don't like losing, to her it's all a game
Though she will fuck up your life, you'll want her just the same
Now I know
She has the built in ability
To take everything she sees
Now it seems I've fallen, fallen for her

Goodness Phil, I didn't know you had it in you. Apparently shit gets real at a Genesis concert.

Well, I Finally Did It

For the purposes of this story, please keep in mind I kept a pleasant tone of voice and facial expression the whole time.

Ordering drinks at a mostly empty bar. Large older gentleman slides his pretzel mix bowl in front of me. I say "Thank you sir." He tells me not to call him sir, he had enough of that in the military. Mild chit chat as I wait FOREVER to get my drinks.

Then he let's loose with "I hate to use the n-word, but. . . "

I chime in with a bright "Then please don't."

He proceeds to use the word. Of course.

I ask politely for him to desist. He begans enumerating the problems associated with living in close quarters with *thatword*. I politely ask him not to use that word.

The bartender chimes in with "Well, we're all human." A mild mitigating statement.

He continues to use that word, after I have asked him to stop, after I've said I don't like that word, after the bartender tried to change the subject. I think we've all been in this situation.

With a blank look on my face I turned to him and said, "My father is black."

The immediate response from both bartender and barfly was "What? You don't look it."

He then said he didn't mean to offend me. The bartender asked me "Are you sure? You don't look like it at all."

No shit. She actually said that. That's fucking gold, man.

He continued to mutter half hearted apologies. I assured him that I wouldn't be offended if he would just let it drop.

Then I sent DJCP to the jukebox with the instructions to "Play something with some soul."

We got excellent service from the bartender the rest of the night.

But don't take my word for it. Try this handy method out for yourself.

And play a lot of Marvin Gaye and Sam Cooke on the jukebox afterwards.

Mischiefin' Is Hard

Been perpetrating some mischief of the most time sensitive matters today. It was freaking exhausting.

The countdown begins. Updates when the Mischief officially detonates, for the interested.

UPDATE: I is woah out, toah up from the floa up.

All you office are belong to us!

You can't run, you can't run. Don't you know who I am?

Pocket Fredward!

And extra prezzies on the side. I worked really hard on color coordinating these. It's sad, isn't it?

 And that's how you do your little sister's 30th birthday up right. I may not have the oomph to pull off major coups anymore, but I can stealth up in yo shizzle and life-bomb you. There's nowhere to run. There's nowhere to hide.

Hun love. When you care to raid the very best.

This Probably Only Works In Context

For me, this is one of the funniest things ever written. It's borderline genius:

I DON'T THINK YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT

NOT A ONE OF YOU BISHES WHO HAS BUTTHURT MY FEELINGS IS A PROPER JUDGE OF ME

OUTRAGEOUS
WHY YOU BISHES DO NOT DO CORRECTLY?
OUTRAGEOUS
I HAVE HAD IT TALKING WITH YOU BISHES WHAT DO NOT DO CORRECTLY

A CERTAIN FETOR ARISES FROM THE VERY BROWSER
I SEE THAT YOU DO NOT CARE ABOUT ME AND NEVER DID

JUSTICE!!!!!

If you seek to fuck with elderly, then you seek your doom.

I wish this would happen every time some jerk goes into road rage mode.

Spreading The Joy

This is want I want to do for a living. So very much.

Description from Wikipedia:

QI (Quite Interesting) is a British comedy panel game television quiz show created and co-produced by John Lloyd, hosted by Stephen Fry, and featuring permanent panelist Alan Davies. 

Most of the questions are extremely obscure, making it unlikely that the correct answer will be given. To compensate, points are awarded not only for right answers, but also for interesting ones, regardless of whether they are right or even relate to the original question. 

Conversely, points are deducted from a panelist who gives "answers which are not only wrong, but pathetically obvious,"typically answers that are generally believed to be true but in fact are misconceptions. Points are also often deducted if an obvious joke answer is given. These answers are known as forfeits, usually indicated by a loud klaxon, flashing lights, and the incorrect answer being displayed on screen as a form of humiliation. 

SEE Stephen Fry try to play school master and fail fabulously.

SEE the XL episodes where all the naughty bits are left in.

SEE Alan Davies subtly undermine the game.

SEE Rob Brydon advance his faux science and mock seriousness.

SEE David Mitchell devolve into a ball of "angry logic."

SEE Sean Lock get pissy and bored with intelligent participants.

SEE Jimmy Carr deadpan through every innuendo.

SEE Phil Jupitus and Bill Bailey sing, dance, flirt, and just be AWESOME.

 But don't take my word for it:

 And of course, THIS happened. I love to see a grown man cry:

Frankenstein's Hot Date

~or~

The Perils of Postmodern Friends' Opinions About Your Dating Choices

So my friend Handy J has had some pretty interesting things to say about the kind of person he thinks I should be with.

Please note, these comments are not part of some ongoing dialogue about my desire to be with someone. It's usually in the middle of me having a very logical and valid opinion about a pertinent topic.* For some mysterious reason, my form of self expression elicits comments from HJ along the lines of "Holy crap. Whoever dates you is gonna have to be hella X and majorly Y."

X and Y are not usually adjectives that one would associate with the tender and romantic notions of courting. More like words connected to mixed martial arts cage fights.

BroFist: Because Hulk love means never having to pay your hospital bills.

So in the interests of silliness and tomfoolery, I convinced HJ to let me record his thoughts on this weighty subject. Please remember that what follows is in his words, verbatim. And so I give you

The Definitive Definition of My Perfect Mate, According to Handy J.

Tough: he should be able to restrain you in self defense

Looks: long dark hair. Big nose, pref hawkish. Sharp featured, not a broad face, a narrower face. Skinny. Knows how to dress appropriately for occasions.

Preferably Scottish  ( pref highland) or Irish.

Personality: very educated. More importantly, he should be smart. Well read. Passion for movies. Somber of demeanor, with a sense if humor for appropriate times.

Shadowy past that he doesn't like to talk about. Preferably with a little scar under his eye --- if you touch it he shies away from you.

Gifted lover. But when you ask him how he got the skills he won't say because he only has eyes for you.

Profession: lived an adventurous life. Made his fortune securing ancient artifacts, but not always on the up and up, but not morally decrepit. Comfortably retired.

About ten years older than you. Able to provide a firm but guiding hand.

This manages to be eerily accurate in some ways and completely loony in others. I was seriously laughing and having to take long pauses to collect myself during this wonderfully silly conversation. At one point I said, "This is a comic book character! Who is this? Wolverine wearing Indiana Jones' fedora and dressed like a ninja?"

That question spawned the summary of HJ's thesis:

If handy j could create him, he would be:
Richard Armitage with Indiana Jones' personality, James Bond's skills set, and Aragorn's mysterious past.

You guys, it was like a girl's slumber party up in the hizzy. Handy J should write cheezy romance novels. He is missing his calling.

I have the strong urge to editorialize this list (e.g. firm but guiding hand? Seriously?). But it's probably best just to let it stand, resplendent in its own majesty.

Comments on this post are keenly desired.

*Please note adjectives used in this sentence are subjective and relational to author. Other participants in aforementioned conversations may describe the author's demeanor and delivery in different terms.**

**If they dare.