Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Stumbelina and The Greatest Band Ever

I haven't written in nine days and I'm desperate for a topic. When I first started the blog, I thought this would never happen because it would theoretically be an effortless flow of information from my head. However, since people sometimes actually read this thing and would like to find it amusing, I have found it prudent to have actual topics of interest to discuss.

So, I've been "stumbling" (see this post for background) looking for something to write about. I don't have much to say about this, but check out this site of what are supposedly phone exam answers. My favorite is the bonus point hostage or maybe the "noob" answer. I also like the ones where the student obviously had no clue whatsoever and just wrote something highly offensive to maybe get a chuckle. I can appreciate both the a) hopelessness and b) creativity.

You want more entertainment? this then if you haven't already:

By the way, now that Halloween is almost over, you can all start thinking about Thanksgiving! And make cupcakes!

I'll think of something to write about soon. I swear.

Monday, October 22, 2007

More People I Supposedly Resemble

Note: This list comes from Crief, who says I resemble the following people, even though I look nothing like any of them.

Former Detroit Tigers Pitcher Mark Fidrych, a.k.a The Bird

Edmonton Oilers Head Coach Craig MacTavish

Bill Walton "in his Trailblazers days"

Sideshow Bob

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Drop It Like It's Hot

A fast and rowdy game is taking place between about 8 teenagers. They’re tall, fast, and look like they know what they’re doing.
A YOUNGER BOY, around 7 or 8, sits on the blacktop just outside the court, his elbows on his knees, watching the game.
From one side of the court, one of the broader players steals the ball and drives the length of the court. He stops as another player rushes to cover him, fades back, and takes a shot.
The ball bounces off the rim and over the backboard.
The younger boy throws his hands up.

Come on, man, I could have made that shot with my eyes closed!

The game stops and the teenagers turn to look at the kid. The BROAD GUY who missed the shot looks around at his friends, some of whom are snickering at him.

What did you say to me?

I said that shot was textbook. That’s like shooting a lime into a shopping cart, man, you can’t hit that?

The broad guy’s friends start laughing.

You think you could hit that? Under pressure?

What do you think? I’m two feet shorter than you. You got eyes, dude?

So you can’t talk. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Get out of here, alright?

Him and his buddies turn, pick up the ball and begin shooting around again. The young boy stands up and spits in the direction of the teenagers.
A tall and skinny player sees it.

Are you spitting at us, kid?

I can spit all over your dumb asses.

Is that right?

Damn right. Check it.

He takes off his shirt and reveals a large gold chain hanging over his chest.

Check, check, 1, 2.

He clears his throat.

I’m bringin shame on your crew / A bunch of fishes lookin’ for your Shamu / You know it’s like I point the finger at you / Breakin’ your heart like I was Fredo in Godfather 2

The teenagers all stand dumbfounded. He continues.

I’m throwin heat on you like Michael Mann / I’m Slim and you bitches are just my Stan / You cryin, you my biggest fan / You better hide with Osama in Afghanistan

The broad guy comes forward. He stands rubbing his temples, thinking for a minute, then begins himself.

Little man, why you being so uncouth / It’s too hot for you here, that’s the inconvenient truth / you out of your game, you should be ashamed / I’m the Blue Cross, bitch, I’m denyin’ your claim / Go back to day care, you gettin fatigued / There’s no crying in baseball, your not in my league / Your scrawny ass frontin, you nothin but a n00b / I’m the walrus, baby, goo goo ga joob

The other teenagers nod their heads and grin at the kid. Some of them start to egg him on.

You gonna let him get away with that?

I don’t know, man. I wouldn’t like being called no n00b.

Yeah, man. What you got? Oh, you’re done?

The young boy looks at the ground for a moment, then he looks up, tugs on his chain, and steps forward.

That taste in your mouth, it’s only turning sour / I waterboard your ass like I was Jack Bauer / I’m a virus, bitch, messin with your PC / You gonna hide and run away, LOL BRB / You got no game left, you spit then you drop...uhhh....

He pauses and thinks the quickly. The teenagers lean forward and start to chuckle at his stumbling.

...uhhh...I’m giving you signs, circlin in your crop / You mess with me twice and I def pull the trigger / you best step off, man, I’m a crazy-ass...uhhhmmm...

He stops. He can’t think of anything.
The teenagers lean forward. Some of them gasp.

Damn. You guys win.

He pulls the chain from around his neck, drops it on the ground, and walks away.
The rest of them turn back. The skinny guy picks up the basketball, fades back and shoots. It sails through the hoop.

It was an easy shot, man.

For more information, see the following resources.
SeeqPod Music beta - Playable Search

Friday, October 12, 2007

Beirut at the Avalon

I realize I've been on a blogging drought. Every night I sit here and try to think of something to write about, but it seems I've used up my clever angles and gimmicks for the month. Raj says I should write about the Cowboys-Bills game of last Monday night and go in depth as to the agonizing and painful defeat the Bills all-too-often take. But, as all writers must, I am thinking about my audience, which consists of a few people at work, my mother, and the seven people a week who get here by typing "Caravan Jokes" into Google.

Honestly, what are these hysterical jokes about caravans I am missing? The surprising volume of people looking up this subject makes me think there is a vast, untapped market I should be looking into. I may become the world's first Caravan Comic. Nothing but jokes about emigrating nomads (a Rabbi, a Priest, and a Buddhist).

I eventually settled on the Beirut show I went to see on Wednesday night. Beirut is essentially this very talented guy Zach Condon and crew (a caravan, if you will) of cellists, violinists, pianists, horn players, and whatever else he may need. Here's them playing the song "Postcards From Italy" from their previous album "Gulag Orkestar".

They have a new album that came out on Tuesday that I haven't bought yet. And unlike some experimental British popsters I could name, they actually expect you to go to a store and buy it, in person! I'm all too happy to oblige. I don't have $220,000 sitting around to give to the RIAA.

Speaking of which, do you know why nobody buys music anymore? There are no record stores! Just a few years ago, when I was in college, they were everywhere. Nowadays, the only place I really know to go to is Amoeba, and parking there when it's busy is like trying to get Britney Spears to wear underwear!

Anyway, if you like Beirut and think that music might be a suitable blog topic in the future, why not let me know? It seems odd for me to talk about music on the blog, and I'm not much of a critic, so there won't be much in the way of cornea-damagingly long reviews.

Anyway, have a good weekend everybody.

Saturday, October 6, 2007

Other People I Unfortunately Resemble

Samwise Gamgee

Kerry Strug

Dylan in the 80s

Alvie Singer

Fat Clay Aiken

A baby wearing a toupee

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

A Common Orange County Conversation

Dude, dude, you know what's awesome? The Office, dude. Crazy funny. Did you see the one where they hid Ed Helms' phone in the ceiling? Oh, man, I was like dying! What? What other version? Oh yeah, I heard about that, but like, you can't hear what they're talking about. It's all like English-talk and stuff. Plus, the American version has so much more Looking At Each Other Awkwardly. The British one only has like 4 Looking At Each Other Awkwardlies per episode. Lame.

No, dude. You know what's really awesome? That Disturbia movie. Freaky, dude, just like, freaky. Kid can't leave his house and then he looks in the window next door and he sees a murder. No, dude, he can't go do anything about it! Cuz he's under House Arrest, bro! What do you mean that's been done? Right, like in the 50s. Whatevs, dude, whatevs. Seriously, bro, everything has "been done" if you go back far enough. Who cares if some old geezers did the same thing in like the Stone Age? Dude, you are like so past-minded man. You have to look into the future. You know what those Oasis guys said? Be here now. There's alot of truth in that. What do you mean, Buddha said that? Dude, seriously.

Ok, you want to go all old and classic? I got you covered. 1990s, bro. Dave Matthews Band has this song they only play live called Watchtower. Killer, man. It's like all eight minutes long but it totally holds your attention.

What are you talking about. Is he still alive? Dude, you are such a buzz kill. Like seriously.