Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Travel Guide: Washington, Center of the Universe

The first thing to know about Washington is that, unlike southern California, it actually has weather. Yeah, the stuff you see on TV and read about in books. Like rain, which is the common name for the phenomenon when water falls from the sky! I know, it sounds really scary. Even more bizarre is this strange white substance that coats the ground during the night. The locals call this material "snow" and it supposedly falls from the sky as well. Surreal, I know. This just comes to reinforce the fact that everything east of California, with the exception of Las Vegas, is actually just a giant hologram illusion run by the government to make us believe that the world is not flat.

Here are three items that are very common in Washington.

I can tell you from experience: if you see a large steel barricade (quite abundant, too) like this one with lots of not-so-happy-looking policemen standing by it, don't go near it, especially if your skin color does not match theirs.

Don't eat lunch in the Supreme Court Food Court (who came up with that name?). It sucks. Now I understand why O'Connor retired early. And after getting sick from the Supreme Court food, certainly don't get lost in the Senate building and stumble upon John Kerry's office. Unless you want to sneak a photo of it and the snobby male secretaries.

After finally getting out of that god-forsaken Senate building, should you see something that resembles this thing, do NOT be carrying anything that resembles food. They are tiny robots programmed by the government to attack and kill without remorse. If they do happen to see you, scream and run like hell.

More later.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

These Guyz Are So Cool, They Replace S's With Z's

So I was listening to an acquaintance of mine recount how last night he won the "Whitest Dancer" award at some manner of a modern dance contest. He introduced me to this.

Watermelon, Chicken, and Gritz. With a Z, because Z's are clearly superior to S's. It is a rap album from a group based in - get this - Kentucky. Yes, Kentucky. Now don't get me wrong: I despise rap and couldn't care less, but I still think it's (or should I say, it'z?) quite amusing.

I didn't hear much of it, but I'm sure it'z going to get far with such classicz as Aw Naw, Ho Down, and my personal favorite, Ballin' on a Budget. It'z got phat pimpin' beatz, souf style.

Check out these here lyricz:
My yegga, we hogwild, bet that from that roota to that toota-file
Hell naw, them country boys ain't headed south for six miles
Kentucky mud, them kinfolk, twankies with them hundred-spokes
And aw-aw-aw-aw!
Oh snap. Now, I'll concede that that "regular" rap isn't any less inane, but this has endless novelty value. This is like Britney Spears singing opera, or Mr. T working as a marriage counselor. Maybe they compete with the 13-year-old white supremacist girls.

I'm going to sleep now. Wake me when Chuck Norris stars in a romantic comedy.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Mighty King Corn

This week on Ask Kevin, Karen asks:
Would you please give your honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world?
A most worthwhile question to ask. At first I was tempted to answer Soylent Green, but that's a trite and unoriginal plan advocated by those competing with me for world domination. Then Eric suddenly hijacked this post, so here is his solution to the problem:
I feel that the only way to put an end to food shortages once and for all is to get scientists to spend obscene amounts of money meant for something useful to instead make some manner of LAZOR BEAMZ that make food (but not other stuff) smaller. Can you imagine the implications of miniature food? It would be just like normal food, but less! We already have miniature corn, so it's only a matter of time before other foods follow the path of their glorious leader. Of course such a trampling over the laws of nature would inevitably cause the food to become sentient and take over the world and eat people instead of the other way around. Then there would be more than enough to eat for all! Problem solved. You may now wire the money to my Swiss bank account.

Damn you, usurper! I always knew Eric was really a communist infiltrator. Post more questions in the comments section while I call Senator McCarthy.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Behold the Power of "i"

I apologize (not really) for the lack of updates. I have finally returned from my weeklong trip to Washington, DC, so your life will resume shortly. I might tell you about my trip later, but I might not. Can you feel the suspense? Anyway...

Recently I've been noticing a growing number of products whose names begin with a lower-case "i." I can't say that I'm surprised that companies are jumping on the iConform bandwagon, seeing the obscene profits that Apple makes from iConform sales. One thing that I do wonder is how exactly Apple came up with the name "iPod" (this is the only time you'll see me refer to it by its real name). I mean, the "i" of course is not Apple's creation, but pod? When somebody says pod, I think beans. Or whales. Anyway, let's take a quick look at a few "i" products:
  • iShirt. Having the resplendent white earphones conspiciously screaming "I CONFORM!" just doesn't show off my coolness enough. I need it plastered across my chest in letters so absurdly huge that they're visible from outer space, just so everyone knows that I'm part of the hip new "i" generation.

    Remember, kids: The iPod Shuffle is NOT INCLUDED with this product.
    And: People who use pacemakers should never wear this shirt.
  • iBoxer. Yep, a pair of boxers. This product epitomizes the "i" market.
    Available in solid fashion colors and the solid waistband features a racing stripe and the Play logos.
    Oh snap. It's got racing stripes! The stripes probably make me run faster. It even has "3/8 inch side vents" to improve performance, or something. Maybe if I wear them I'll feel like I'm driving a racecar, except as the contents of my pants instead of a vehicle. And nobody will mess with the "solid fashion colors." The chicks will dig it.

    Sarcasm aside, keep that thing away from my genitals!
  • And speaking of genitals... iBuzz.
    iBuzz is the musical orgasm machine! The music-activated vibrating bullet stimulates you in time with your favourite music. Which song pushes your butttons?
    You know what? No comment.
$30 for a single shirt. $22 for a single pair of boxers. $60 for a... toy. God bless America.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Olympics Shmolympics

So I was watching the Olympic opening ceremomies! and thinking during the commercial breaks. You know what I was thinking about? The Parade of Nations is really long.

I'm sure that the opening ceremony would be, like, two hours shorter if only there was one or two nations. Would that not be, like, infinitely better? In fact, just one nation. Us.

Sure, they say that politics and sport are seperate, but really, the only way to truly remove politics from sport is if everyone thinks exactly the same way! Right? Right. (No one need comment on this matter, you know I'm right. (Totally.))

Everything else would be improved as well! Cultural differences would surely be eliminated under benevolent democracy (read: governments friendly to us) for the masses. One need only look at Iraq for an instance where a supreme culture, through military force, so entrenches itself that there is virtually no resistance to the occupiers!

So let's just stop kidding ourselves with the politically correct nonsense and finally admit that the American culture is the greatest thing ever.

P.S. Remember the Maine!

Thursday, February 09, 2006

The Stateliest State of the Most Unified Union Ever

Thank you all. Cheerleaders, blind conformists, worshippers, applause-o-bots, distinguished old people wearing uniforms: I am humbled by your shameless groveling. There. Start applauding again. Wallow in the resplendor of my humility! Clap some more. Very good.

This year I will make things better, not worse.

Our nation faces a grave peril from within its very own borders. Cells of terrorist activity, once thought to have disappeared, have been growing in number. These terrorists are commonly known as "trees." As you know, forest fires are caused by trees. Last year, millions of acres of trees burned themselves in suicide attacks on our towns and industries. But these cowardly individuals cannot break the resolve of our great nation. Brave young lumberjacks have stepped forward to defend the liberties of the American people, and I commend each and every one of them for their heroic sacrifices.

In order to combat the very real threat of tree terror, the government must not be held back by legal obligation. I must be allowed to bypass warrants when eavesdropping electronically monitoring environmentalist groups who have had a history of supporting trees. Remember that the trees are only a breath away from killing us all with their razor sharp acorns, and I alone stand between them and you. In order to protect you I need not only to be above search warrants, but I must also be given the authority of line item vetoes, absolute executive power, and the Hammer of Thor. Only then can I truly ensure the safety of the American public.

It is important that Americans agree with me on my foreign policy. If you disagree with me, not only are you unpatriotic, but you are a poo-poo head. That's right, a poo-poo head. We must strive to put aside our differences and work together, both Republicans and Poopooheadcrats alike, to achieve common goals. I decide what those common goals are.

We must be steadfast in Eerok. There's a lot of sand there, but for the sake of the Eerokee people we must sow the seeds of some ideological metaphor about democracy that my speechwriter can't seriously believe that anyone would ever expect me to say in person. Poo-poo heads accuse me of not having a plan for Eerok. Well, here it is: I am preparing to launch Operation Peace and Freedom Forever and Ever for Eternity not just in Eerok but in every sandy place on the planet, including Asia, even though it's not particularly sandy, and I will steadfastly see that it steadfastly does not ever waver in a manner that would not reflect steadfastness. It will instantaneously solve every problem that ever existed in the region, and leave its people with an infinite and undying love for America.

Meanwhile at home, America is addicted to sand. Most of our sand comes from places in the world inhabited by filthy heathens who hate us, even though we have treated them with nothing but boundless love and compassion. We must develop viable alternatives to reduce our dependency on foreign sand. For example, we could invade liberate Canada and take their sand. Or we could use mud instead, which is actually better than sand, but my lobbyists won't allow that so you'll have to wait till my third term.

Oh, and healthcare is important. Studies show that healthcare cares for health, and health keeps people alive. Being alive is the opposite of being dead, and polls show that most Americans don't want to be dead. Therefore, I propose that healthcare be made better. It can be made better by improving its qualities. Those qualities in turn can be enhanced by improvement. All in all, my plan is foolproof no matter what the poo-poo heads say about it.

The reason this country kicks so much butt is because its people has courage. And superior firepower, but mostly courage. I know America kicks butt because God Himself told me. So keep kicking butt, and don't be a poo-poo head. May God bless America.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006


(click to enlarge, unless you hate America)

So I was relaxing and enjoying my daily bowl of assorted stuff when I happened to notice this little note placed upon the side of my cereal box. How exciting! Not only does my meal have great nutritional significance, but artistic and even cultural significance!

Consider the implications. Should I feel "Gaming"-ish today, all I need to do is pick up that particular box of Pops™ cereal to affirm my cultural aspirations. "See, my fellow 'gaming'-ers? I too enjoy spelling words with variable height assigned to letters for no particular reason whatsoever! I'm so accepted."

I am sooo excited to express my new bold individual style and attitude, that I wanna go out right now and buy a box of Pops™ cereal, along with all associated paraphanelia.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

DVD's: Weapons of Mass Destruction?

It appears that Blogger exploded and deleted this post, so here it is again. This week on Ask Kevin commenter blue>white asks:
What's the difference between a DVD that is silver on the bottom and one that is blue?
That's an excellent question, blue>white, but you won't like the answer. Contrary to popular opinion, DVD stands not for Digital Video Disc, but rather for Death and Violence Desensitizer. You see, DVD's are actually instruments of a grand Soviet conspiracy that contain powerful subliminal messages. Every time you watch a DVD, every time you touch a DVD, every time you even think about a DVD, you’re being brainwashed by the Soviets. The subliminal messages contained in these instruments of destruction are intended to destroy the fabric of American society and prepare us for the coming Soviet invasion.

Back to question at hand. DVD’s can be broken down into three basic categories: ones commanding you to sleep, ones commanding you to kill sleeping people, and ones commanding you to blame killings on the media and government. Respectively, these each have silver, gold, and blue bottoms. You’ll note that DVD’s with silver and blue bottoms are much more common than the murder-inducing gold ones, and that is intentional. They don’t want us all to murder each other. Yet.

If you’ve ever watched a movie and felt a sudden and irrational love for Mother Russia coupled with a deep hunger for cabbage and vodka, then you know what I’m talking about. You haven't? Well it’s a conspiracy, and if you don’t agree with me then you must be part of it! God bless America.

Send in more questions in the comment section!

Monday, February 06, 2006

Doom and Gloomday Reborn: Doom and Gloomday's Revenge 2: The Sequel

It recently dawned on me while answering a question regarding Tyler's bit of ego stroking below, that my friends are lazy, forgetful, so-and-sos. After recalling that I had had this revelation a few weeks back, I decided to revive everyone's favourite day that Kevin had so thoughtfully left in the dust about a month or so ago! Yep, it's Doom and Gloom Monday!

In keeping with the tradition of reporting causes of cancer, I thought I'd try something slightly different from the tradition, but not enough so that I couldn't make people think it was a part of it anyway. This fine D&Gday, I'm happy to report that, not content with simply inducing seizures anymore, Pokemon now cause cancer. Above, I have a picture of an enlarged cell of this new threat to mankind. Notice the distinct Pokemon-shaped markings. In addition, there are various diagrams depicted, including a Pokemon parasite and a small, winged, disease-spreading poke-insect. Beware...be very ware....

No, you didn't hear me quite right. Apparently there exists a cancer-inducing gene named the POK erythroid myeloid ontogenic gene, that, until a plethora of headlines, and Nintendo's lawsuit, was called the POKEMON gene by scientists, but that's just not as fun to report.

Incidentally, I receive untold quantities of bonus points for my spelling of "favorite" above.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

This Blog Could Be Your Life


We rock. So much. See, people often forget how awesome we truly are.

I mean, we're writing regularly posted offerings whatever about we feel like. People can even comment on them. I can't wait for the feature spot in Time Magazine. Not as if we read Time or anything.

Probably our biggest innovation is our unprofessional nature. I mean, we're just normal guys with no journalistic history who tell you what we honestly think. Really, it's all kinds of brilliance and symbolism. We even can express a thinly veiled distaste for traditional media outlets, and all sorts of other things most people hold in high regard.

Imagine us as underground Steve Irwin postnews artists, that's just how cool we are.

Mostly, we can talk about things that have never been talked about ever before. On the rare occasions where we have to broach old, stale subjects, our unique and fresh points of view offer grand, sweeping, amazing, and inconceivable insight. When we write, the truth so saturates the page that it can get on our hands if we aren't careful.

And another great invention of ours. Cynicism! No one has ever been cynical before. Especially not in America.

Over all, you should be grateful you have us around. When we're crowned as the Voice Of Our Generation and write for the entire world, you can say you knew us first.