Thursday, June 30, 2011

That TotM

I was watching Keeping up with the Kardashians for a bit today, and I thought about writing about it... but then I realized that there really isn't anything there to write. It's more something to be ashamed of, I guess. The main thing I've noticed is that they are always screaming and crying at each other.
Warning! Sensitive issue following: As a man, I tend to attribute this behavior to, erm, "that time of the month." (Don't get mad at me! Every man thinks this exact same way. They just are too scared to say it in a public forum. I'm already regretting it/ and fearful.) Now, I know nothing about this... uh, what do I call it... Condition? Symptom? I've heard the rumor (fact?) that women who spend a lot of time together tend to "synchronize watches," so to speak.
All I know is that whenever I watch K upwitda Ks it seems like they film during that terrible week when it is that "time of the month."  That or the Kardashians are on some sort of crazy monthly rotation schedule. Yeah I am seriously starting to regret typing any of this.

Let's talk about grammar. Well, read about grammar. Pontificate about grammar? (I'm using pontificate in its informal sense: to mouth off. Look it up) Specifically, the unspoken rule that we never end a sentence with a predicate. (It's unspoken because we write it)  For example:

Laquinta: Yo, this is where the partay's at!

This is wrong. So so so wrong. Laquinta, despite being a third year law student at Columbia, made the classic mistake of ending her sentence with a predicate! She would be laughed out of any court room with that grammatical gaffe. Let's see how an expert does it:

Ledorito: This is where the partay's at, yo!

Much better. Ledorito ends his sentence with an exclamation, thus driving the point, that 'this is where the party is,' straight home.

So there is a lesson for you. Two actually, if you count the first lesson about not writing on the #1 taboo subject. And a challenge: I challenge you to go through this post and find every grammatical error. The first person to do so correctly will earn a swift punch to the gut! Happy finding!

Monday, June 27, 2011

You probably won't be able to guess the subject of this post until the end. Or ever.

I've been waiting these past few days for someone to come out and challenge my previous post like this, "Gossip Girl doesn't air on Monday!" To which I would wittily reply, "Hey! Do you think I got the time to fact check all day? Huh?" Yeah that's as witty as I get. So to get to the root of this dastardly quandary, I created a few theories. 1. Gossip Girl airs on Monday. This coincides with the "I am always right" theory. 2. Gossip Girl is rerun on Mondays. See adjoining theory above. 3. No one reads my blog. This falls in the "Lame/Depressing" category of theories. 4. My readers are just as clueless about Gossip Girl as I am. This is placed in the "Not likely" category, seeing as mostly girls read blogs. Without theories, all of humanity would be lost in the dregs of illiteracy and despair.
Sorry if I'm being a little dramatic. People close to me (momsie) have told me in the past that they don't much like some of the writing in my blog. Specifically, how I tend to rant about everything. I personally don't see any problem with it. If you got something on your chest, it's usually better to get it off. This is especially true with spiders. Plus, sometimes a good rant reminds people of something that annoys them as well. That way, they can get it off their chest too. (Unless I'm ranting about supporting undergarments. Those are best left on the chest. Although I don't see myself mentioning those. Ever.) So every once in a while... Wait just a gosh darn second! Am I ranting about ranting? Tarnation. I guess this post is over.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Lord of the Fries

First off, I gotta get something off my chest. Why do geico commercials have to be so terrible? I like geico, they provide me with automobile insurance at a lower rate than every other insurance company, but their commercials are so ridiculously asinine they make me want to tear my ears off. They finally got rid of those idiot cavemen, but that dumb gecko is worse. Their commercials with the James Bond announcer voice guy (does anybody else think his voice doesn't match his face?) were funny maybe once, but they get progressively more annoying each time you hear that car salesman radio voice. What also doesn't help is that these commercials come on EVERY commercial break. EVERY FLIPPITY DIPPIN' TIME! Cripes. Enough of that.
What I really wanted to complain about today is Hollywood. Yeah yeah yeah, I know I've complained about Hollywood before. I can do whatever I want here. I'm writing the dang thing. Your job is to read and agree. Anyway, movies released these days are ten times worse than geico commercials. Especially comedies. I can't even go to a comedy without getting bored or disgusted. Now don't get me wrong, dirty jokes don't bother me as much as dirty fingernails do. I went to a public high school, so chances are I've heard it all before. But the dirty jokes in movies nowadays are so bad they make me want to join a convent. And I pretty much just watch PG-13 movies! (I don't care what you say about Tom Cruise, The Last Samurai was a gooood movie, and totally did not deserve the R rating it got) An occasional sick joke I can either stomach or ignore; my main problem is with the general lack of funny jokes in these movies. Hollywood has taken to SNLing everything these days. What is SNLing you ask? It's where you take a joke that could possibly be funny, and then repeat it over and over, so many times that it turns into something that would be appropriate to say at a funeral. It's called geicoing in the advertising scene. It's gotten to the point where the funniest part of SNL is the live music performance. Take that Ke$ha!
I can already hear the responses. "If you don't like it, why don't you come up with something better?!" Hey, I'm trying to do just that! My problem is, I'm not dirty enough, so the movie producers wouldn't even give me another look. I've got a great story in the works, about a precocious little kitten who learns the true meaning of friendship by becoming bunkmates at summer camp with a rascally outcast ferret. Will that become the next Jim Carrey smash blockbuster hit? I think not! He's too busy fraternizing with digital penguins!
So it seems to me our only logical recourse is to revel in the classics. The next time you dust off that VHS of old Looney Tunes cartoons, go ahead and pop it in instead of dropping eight bucks to see some new Hollywood drivel. Then, on the way to get your blu-ray player repaired from VHS tape damage, rent something good, like The Last Samurai (contains Strong Violence and Battle Sequences [but so does Harry Potter!]).

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Digital generation

Editor's note: I wrote this like 10 months ago. If you don't get some of the references... invent a time machine and go back to last winter. Or Google it.

Some people think that reading a person's blog is a good substitute for talking to that person. This is false. The only good substitute for talking to a person is talking to a robot programmed with all the knowledge in the world and has it's auto-correction chip removed, for its own safety. I would also accept talking to a dog with really expressive eyes. In the world we live in, things are becoming increasingly digitized. We get all our information online, from the news to what Susie is wearing to the homecoming dance. We can chat online. We can poke people online. We can even take tours of places online. Pretty soon people are going to be doing their business all over the interwebs. Yeah, that kind of business. Gross! What I've noticed is that people don't know how to interact anymore. Like me. I hate talking on the phone. On the phone, there is some real pressure. When you email or chat online, there is ample time to procure witty responses to any posed question. On the phone, there is no time (unless you are me, and pretend the connection is bad until I think of something good to say). Plus, with the internet, you can quickly research things and pretend to know what the other person is talking about. Here are some examples:

Question: Did you hear that President Obama is instituting a federal pay freeze?
Internet response: Yeah. It's supposed to start next year and last for 2 years. Hopefully it will curtail government spending and reduce the federal deficit! Too bad I'm a judge! TTYL
Phone response: No.

Question: Yo man! Did you see Monday Night Football?! It was awesome!!
Internet response: Yeah bro! Dude, Drew Brees' passer rating of 147.3 was the highest of his career! And Roman Harper's interception in the fourth was sick! It's gonna be a crazy playoff race... LOL!
Phone response: Oh. I watched Gossip Girl instead.

So the internet saves people obvious embarrassment. It also makes people MORE embarrassed. Like when you read something on the internet and you stupidly believe it to be true, and then get in an argument with someone over what you read, naively believing what you read is true. Later you find out that the person you argued with wrote a book on what you were arguing about, and was obviously right. Curses internet! And your flaw of being constructed by people who don't know any solid facts!

This is the stuff I thought about 10 months ago.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

I don't know

You want to know one thing that bothers me? A grown man that giggles. Leave the giggling to the 6 year old girls. Life ain't no tea party.

Speaking of tea parties... I don't like politics, so let's not get in to that.

The weather is heating up here in the Northern Hemisphere. Too hot. And too humid/dry/bright/smelly/lousy (The Northern Hemisphere is huge!) Don't get me wrong, summer is a great season. Just not as great as spring, fall, or winter. Or that other one, the one they only have in Mexico. El nino or something. Personally, I love fall. Mostly because it reminds me of Harry Potter, and I long to be a spellcrafter. Or mage. Plus I think I look great in sweaters.

The greatest thing about summer is air conditioning. It conditions the air! Like magic! And uses massive amounts of energy! And makes it feel like fall. The worst thing about summer is having to be the guy that fixes the air conditioning. People can't live for 8 hours without cool air. It's absolutely abominable! And if you happen to live in a house that doesn't have a/c, well, say goodbye to having any company over the summer. And to having a good night's sleep.

I'll probably have more to write about on this topic later. Perhaps...

Friday, June 17, 2011

'Haha' funny or 'that's weird' funny?

Here is a funny little tidbit for you, a tasty morsel if you will. Several people have stumbled on to my blog by searching on Google for "Cheese Aficionado." Lucky them!

Thursday, June 16, 2011


I think if I did more real things, I would have more real stuff to write about. Unfortunately, I don't do anything except work and sleep, and that stuff is not that cool. But I can write anything that comes from my


Spell check tells me that that is not the correct way to spell imagination. Not very imaginative! Sometimes I daydream about having super human powers, usually super strength or the power of flight. What would I do with these powers ye ask? Mayhap fight hordes of villains? Nay, I would never be stopped at those stupid stoplights that let two cars through and then instantly turn red. I hate stoplights. Especially when people only use them as a general guideline and not the law. I'm trying to get through this ridiculous short light and some dumbo is sitting in the middle of the intersection waiting to make a left turn on a light that has been through 5 red-green cycles. This person is inevitably yapping on their phone, picking their nose, making out/fighting with their boyfriend/girlfriend/marmoset. When I was younger I would get so impatient at these lights I would imagine a steering wheel popping out of my mom's seat, and the van turning magic-school-bus-style into a rocket powered super vehicle. I would snap out of my beautiful reverie just in time to see us pull right into the driveway! Not. We would be at the same gosh dang intersection, waiting on someone yakking on a ham radio or whatever the heck they had back then instead of cell phones. Anyway, be a considerate driver or whatever lesson you want to take from this. Keep your dreams alive. Nah that's still not it.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Word of the day (month? year?)

If there is one thing that you never want to be called, that would be a "chump." Not because of anything the word insinuates ~
chump | ch əmp|
noun informala foolish person how can this chump be a detective?• an easily deceived persona sucker.ORIGIN early 18th cent. (in the sense [thick lump of wood] ): probably a blend of chunk and lump or stump .~ but because it just sounds dumb. I mean, who wants to be called a blend of chunk, lump, and stump? When I was growing up in the hinterlands of the midwest, I had to work on chopping and stacking wood all day every Saturday. Let me tell you, the lumpy chunky stumps were the worst. So be smart, look sharp, and don't ever glance up at the ceiling, no matter what they say is written up there.

Hahaha... how can this chump be a detective? What a chumpy example. There has got to be a joke in there somewhere.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

You probably should save the three minutes it's gonna take to read this and go solve 1/8th of a crossword puzzle

Have you ever had a day where you were super busy at work and lifted a ton of heavy stuff and then got home and fell asleep on your couch to a Lifetime original movie and then woke up all sweaty on the coffee table in a puddle of drool with your shirt creeping dangerously higher up your midriff? Oh... yeah... me neither. Wait, you're telling me that guys have torsos, and not midriffs? Well, forget about that entire intro. What I don't get is why it's called a "midriff." Last I heard, a riff was a repeated phrase of guitar music, or what Robin Williams does in all his movies. How does that relate at all to a belly? How does the middle of one of those things relate to a belly? What relates to a belly? Theeeese are the questions, wordsmiths. You'll be hearing from me soon.

I just looked it up in the dictionary. ORIGIN Old English midhrif, from mid + hrif [belly.] So next time someone complains about how dumb a word is, remember this moment, and say, "The Old English word hrif (H - R - I - F) means belly!" You win again, wordsmiths. This isn't over.