This is my last week at this job, I want to slack off, and I definitely do NOT want to help cover CNA visits!!!
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This is my last week at this job, I want to slack off, and I definitely do NOT want to help cover CNA visits!!!
Dear knot in my back:
There is, in fact, no Guinness record for "Largest Back Knot". You can give up now.
Dear Dogs,
The fact that I am getting off the couch to fix leftovers should be meaningless to you. You've finished your food, back the fuck up off mine.
Love (or else you'd all be at HSSM),
Me
Really? Really?
I had a sneezing fit yesterday and pull a muscle, probably the left diaphragm muscle and now it really hurts if I sneeze, cough or laugh and I kept waking myself up last night rolling into the wrong position. What the heck, the sneeze is a terrible over-reaction, Intelligent Design my ass.
My sore throat won't go away.
IT WOULD BE REALLY HELPFUL IF I COULD LOOK INTO THE FUTURE A LITTLE BIT SO I COULD SEE IF MY POTENTIAL LIFE-DECISIONS WILL MAKE ANYTHING BETTER. BECAUSE FLYING BLIND SURE HAS NOT HELPED ME ANY.
(It's a bad idea to think about going back to school when I haven't even mildly paid off any of my student loans from my last foray into the world of higher education, right? Right. :sigh: )
Orual, what are you thinking of going back to school for? It might, actually, make a world of difference.
Engineering, but considering that I took almost no math or science for my orignal BA, it would basically entail getting a whole nother 4-year degree and it's a stupid idea anyways because I'm already in student loan debt up to my eyebrows and there exists no degree in 'becoming enough of a plausible bullshitter to convince hiring managers to like you'. Bah.
Hang in there, Orual. Sometimes things change, just like that.
Would community college be an option? You could go part time and test the waters of those math and science classes without spending a whole buttload of money and see how it goes.Quote:
Originally posted by Orual
Rant: community college. I am so done with you. Except I have another year of you so clearly I am not but I would like to be.
Most engineers I knew took Maths and Physics with a pinch of salt.
Yes, but to get the degree, I have to take the classes, and the last time I did calculus was during the Clinton administration.
There is some particularly vicious pollen in the air this week. My sinuses are staging a revolt.
Why are my tests always, always on the same day? Oh well. One more week. One. More. Week.
Next Monday, you should dance around and sing this song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IddP8AAIGTQ
Look, I know. You're a heterosexual man. You like boobs. I get that. This is why I don't generally hold it against men when I catch them looking.
But, see, there's a difference between glancing and then getting back to business and staring with a great big dirty minded little boy grin.
Now the main thing I took away from our interaction is, "Geez. The Schwan's guy is horny."
Dear website-I-work-through,
I have read your rules on comma usage half a dozen times. When I started you said I used too many. Then it was too few. Then they were in the wrong places. Then you simply stopped offering commentary and just gave a poor rating to everything I turned in. I don't know what you want from me. I do know the fact that my client has never had a single complaint about my work doesn't matter, nor does the fact I am writing for a blog where they don't much care if my comma usage is in line with the AP style guide or whatever you're using.
In conclusion, thank you for making it that much harder to find work, and kindly go fuck yourselves.
[note: not edited for comma usage]
He got into the delivery truck business based on its glowing depiction in many 70s and 80s porn films. He's slowly learning that it's just a job. Your rack was the highlight of his day.Quote:
Originally posted by Zuul
Dear sir;
While I've received some rejections in my day--as any writer has--I have never received a response from someone that was so gloriously well-thought out. It's one thing to simply tell a writer that you're not interested in their writing or that you think they're unprofessional, but it's quite another to go to the time and trouble of writing a parody of the author's writing style. That took time and effort that few editors put into the craft. I like to think that my illiterate shit-flinging touched you as deeply as your response touched me, since you took the time out of your busy schedule to mock me so thoroughly.
I particularly liked the part where you suggested some grammar game apps by name that I could download in order to learn the rudiments of the language. The thoughtfulness of this gesture just about choked me up.
The only part I'm confused about is the fact that--even after implying I should restrict my writing to SmartPhone apps--you accepted my article.
What in God's name would a rejection look like?
He's tough because he cares, Zuul.
Also because he's a tool.
He sends you an envelope full of poop.Quote:
Originally posted by Zuul
The soundtrack to the original Conan the Barbarian is not available on iTunes. WHY.
But was the parody witty?Quote:
Originally posted by Zuul
(Seriously, that's really fucked up.)
please, please, PLEASE... fix the aircon in the office.
If you should have a drunken fight with your wife, do not walk a quarter of a mile outside of the village at night. If you do walk a quarter of a mile outside of the village at night, do not go to the cabin of a woman you know to be alone. If you go to the cabin of a woman you know to be alone, do not break into her shed. If you do break into her shed, do not sleep there. If you sleep there, do not jump out behind her in the morning when she is using a pitchfork.
This message brought to you by Fuck You, Get Off My Property, Yes I Will Stab You.
Like I always say, people who talk about the virtuous small town life have never lived in a small town.
That is the truth. I may see fewer penises on public transportation out here, but I sure make up for it in other ways.
Dear work,
Can we move the tables out of the way? If I hit another one, I'm afraid I'll draw blood.
Dear boss,
You know I love you, but you know nothing about graphic design. White space is a design element. If we fill all the pages of our publications from top to bottom with 3-column, justified text in a tiny font with tight leading, we will not look professional, we will look like we know fuck-all about design, and as an added bonus no one will want to read our material because it's ugly and difficult to read.
]Quote:
Originally posted by Hatshepsut
FUCKING RAEG. SO MANY REPUTABLE FIRMS DO THAT. IT'S ALMOST LIKE INFORMATION PRESENTATION IS ALIEN TO THEM. POX ON EVERYONE WHO CREATES SUCH DISASTERS! WELL NO POX NEEDED, LACK OF BUSINESS SHALL BE FORTHCOMING! DOESN'T NEED TO BE SNAZZY JUST... WORK.
Never assume that calling a potential employer will just be a matter of a simple interview-scheduling. NEVER ASSUME THAT. THEY WANT TO ASK YOU THE BS NONSENSE INTERVIEW QUESTIONS. IT IS ALL THEY LIVE FOR. HEED MY WORDS. HEED THEM.
...
is what I would say to myself if I could time-travel back an hour and thus, perhaps avoid totally shitting the phone-interview bed.
So...what kind of position are you applying for, and with what kind of firm?Quote:
Originally posted by Orual
It's a similar-to-my-current-job admin position, but with a large, multinational company where they have neat stuff like advancement opportunities and financial stability. It's hardly my dream job, so I'm not going to sweat it too much if it doesn't work out. Phone interviews, though. They are my Kryptonite.
Dear Shane,
If I say "I'd rather you not do that," it doesn't mean I think you're going to do something you're not planning to do. It doesn't mean I think you're going to kiss my hand (which you've done [yuck]) when you just want to shake. It means DO NOT TOUCH ME. Seriously. This is the only body I have, and I get to decide who touches it. Even my hand. And, considering you tried to argue with me when I asked you not to touch my boobs, too, I'm really to the point that I'm going to start walking the other way when I see you.
Go Fuck Yourself,
Marsilia
To: Dude who was running down a busy sidewalk, at rush-hour, wearing a t-shirt that says: "Your workout is my warmup".
Your IQ is my shoe size.
And was it the same dude who ran in front of me on the sidewalk today as I was walking at lunch? Or is that t-shirt really popular all of a sudden?
How long can teenagers play "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and "Blitzkrieg Bop" over and over and over and over and over and over and over again before my brain melts? Ow, my poor head.
Ha ha, Smells Like Teen Spirit is my ringtone!
SDMB seems to be down.
Dear LCD moronic fucktard.
Yelling out in public from your car and trying to catch someone's attention with "Hey Sexy" and "How are you doing, Darling?" makes me want to disown you from the male half of the human race. Of course, that would imply you were actually human and not just someone with a diseased mollusc for a brain.
Of course, when I look round to see who you had decided to press your unwanted attention on and your next comments is "Oh fuck, it's a bloke", I suddenly realise you were shouting at me.
From behind, I am apparently a sexy female. From in front, it becomes a little more obvious I'm not. Female, or sexy, or more likely neither. I also think my hysterical cracking up didn't help his composure.
Your still someone who should be removed from the gene pool, but at least you may think twice before doing it again.
Quote:
Originally posted by Hatshepsut
Dear Hatshepsut and The Original An Gadaí, this is for you: :D :DQuote:
Originally posted by The Original An Gadaí
Dear People Seeking Employment: please proofread your résumés. If you know you aren't a great speller or writer, ask someone to do it for you. As it is, this document is my first introduction to your attention to detail and the level of pride you take in yourself and your work, and if it's a chore to read, there's a good chance that it costs you the opportunity for a face to face interview.
Also, please send it as a .pdf rather than a Word document. They look cleaner, and the formatting comes out the same on any computer your prospective employer happens to be using. You don't even need any special program to do so; Microsoft Word will save your document as a .pdf for you if you ask nicely.
Dear Bitch I Wasn't Even Friends With In High School,
I went ahead and friended you on Facebook because I knew your mom and my aunt are tight. I didn't unfriend you when you posted that status in which you were beside yourself because Facebook defaulted your romantic interest to bi, or whatever had you thinking people might think you were a scary Other like me. But, your combative post about how eating Chick-Fil-A "doesn't make you a bigot" was full of so much smug disregard for the damage caused by the "charities" that Chick-Fil-A donates to that I had to say something, then I had to unfriend you, because there are reasons we weren't friends in high school, and you haven't outgrown them.
No Love,
Marsilia
Dear childish, hateful slag who just broke my little sister's heart: you are so lucky you live 2,000 miles away from me.
Preach.Quote:
Originally posted by Orual
But seriously, she need to be set on ALL THE FIRE. ALL OF IT.
Dear National News Media,
There's this patch of land, roughly state-sized, between Louisiana and Alabama. It's currently in the projected path of a projected hurricane. Try to remember that while you wring yoyr hands over Poor New Orleans and Mobile.
Frim Mississippi,
Me
Fuck feelings. Seriously.
Hope your hatches are all battened down, Marsilia!
So help me, if I have celiac disease, I am going to punch a whole litter of puppies. With baby seals.
Dear hopelessly over-her-head colleague:
The time you spent dumping your client's call on me is time you could have used to call your client.
Dear client: When I do exactly what you ask, don't send me an e-mail telling me that I only have to do exactly what you asked. My head hurts.
Fuck having no power, I am sick of it and especially sick of freezing cold showers.
Dear Californians Who "Slum" in the South,
Try meeting some people from other places before you go judging the rest of the country for not being California. I'm sick to death of people like you acting shocked that I'm so liberal/articulate/globally aware/not the stereotype.
Not Judging the Rest of the State,
Marsilia
Dear Guy Who's Been to Japan,
You know there's not an American ereader that does what you want. You're entirely aware of this. So, since I'm aware that you're aware, you didn't impress me with the future tech you've experienced, you just annoyed me with your douchebaggary.
Fine With Reading it Myself,
Marsilia
BONUS!!
Dear Guy Who Didn't Wanna Donate,
Do you know what CASA does? Do you know what the Women's Center for Nonviolence might do? The people they help aren't really in a position where "They can get their own books." Fuck you sideways with a baseball bat.
Pretty Sure You Beat Your Spouse and Kids,
Marsilia
World, why do you pick weeks when my back is already sore to make everything go wrong?
Awww. *pets Rube* *Offers a heating pad*
Aw, thanks. A heating pad does sound nice right now.
I've made my own. All you need is a sock & some dry beans. It's heaven!
Country, why you no have job for me?
Dear thieving sociopathic alcoholic cunt: Why in God's name would you try to "friend" me on Facebook? I'm not one of your stepfamily who you've Stockholm syndromed. I see through you and I motherfuck you.
After acquiring all that talent, why can't the Blue Jays play ball as well as they could before?
The Australian cricket team should be sacked and deboned. Useless bunch of vegetables.
Is that really the best ODI team Australia has? Any worse, and I might even feel some sympathy for them.Quote:
Originally posted by spitz
A colleague at work (aged 60+) and I often half-jokingly tell each other to practice our batting and bowling - our services may be required...
Before calling me up to see if I'll do your job for you, at least do some basic research into what you're talking about. I still won't do your job for you, but you won't seem quite as useless.
This one's one behalf of my kid. School just got out. There should not be back to school sales going on.
Hey, grocery store with a "No Pets Please" sign on the door: Why did you allow a woman to not only enter the store with her little dog, but hold the dog inches from the sandwiches? And why, in God's name, did one of your cashiers actually pet the dog?
Cos it's a dog's life. My 2 year old niece asked her mother the other day why the family dog didn't have to work.
Funny how the old expressions assumed that being a dog was pretty horrible. Now, in the Industial West, at least, they has it pretty soft indeed.Quote:
Originally posted by The Original An Gadaí
Death, why are you such a shit? Brother in law's brother in law died the other week, aged 40, 4 kids under 10.
Telemarketers:
OK, you can get me to answer the phone by spoofing a work number. Did you ever think to wonder how many people would be dumb enough to actually go ahead and buy anything from a business spoofing a work number? Leave alone that you say that I'm a preferred customer of a business that I know I'm not a preferred customer of?
so like this is a pretty mellow rant. it is miniature, just a graph with multiple nodes. it is a complete graph, though.
OMFG. So I've been getting back into bridge, just using some software to kill some time here and there. More fun than hearts, whatever.
At first I was like "Neat, it's coming back to me, maybe I'll join or form a RL bridge club! Hot wet bitchez! :( septagenarian teetotalers....wet in the back.....
OK, but it slowly dawned on me that this is probably the game with the POTENTIAL for most fun that ACTUALLY attracts the worst of humanity's dregs. The kinds who (a) get pissed off at their partner for bidding wrong or ineffectively playing the cards (b) would rather be performing duhdur mental arithmetic than doing actual math that could be (i) useful or (ii) not trivial (c) take games and leisure seriously and get all butthurt in general about it.
Yeah, so I know people like that IRL. They suck dingus. No offense, I know it's a valid lifestyle choice, eating dingus. Christ if to take something serious, why not take something serious that *is* serious? Even some internet automaton probably can recreationally troll about some undergraduate deepThoughts metaphysics, but what I mean are real questions or topics, not a fucking card game or message board or whatever you people do.
People forget that ludic has the connotation in English and in other European languages of "playful," as well as the straight meaning of games or whatever. I'm guessing, but I think that's right.
That all supposes there's no money in Bridge, or that the amount is insignificant. In card games as in internet, I'd be the first to say "I fucking love double-entry book-keeping! Out of my way! Move it out of the buffet line! You suck my sister's black cat's hole right now chubs! Move it move it! I don't see those chins moving! Move it move it!" Yeah, and plus if some douche can make a few hundred out of some internet thing, that's cool. Sort of unsavory, the kinds of people one may calculate, correctly or not, that it is profitable to provide customer service to, but that's a standard compromise one often makes in many areas of life, so whatever.
That's valid motivation. But I don't think there's money in bridge.
Now gin rummy, that's got your skill, and your psychological trickery, and you don't have to deal with a bunch of butthurt retired engineers or sorority-chapter board members -- just mano a mano, battle to the death, may the sharpest memory and keenest instinct prevail!
Maybe it's the difference between team sports and real sports where individual skill often conspires to form great edifices of human spirit and ability, like baseball, or boxing. Groupthink and awesomethink. Yep, that's got to be it.
Now bridge would be a great game if I didn't SUSPECT that most who play it IRL take it seriously. It *could* be fun for screwing around, making the dummy do amusing things, and just drinking whiskey and bullshitting while mercilessly insulting bad moves and unmade contracts. "I can smell your dirty pillows, you closet rug-muncher, take it off you whore! Two clubs is strong! I have a club! We have a club! But I love you! I don't understand why we can't have a baby!" Well, something like that.
In other words, like a fun game of Risk. Or the way people used to play poker, before everyone got all like "dude, I'm so high on this white widow I'm going to pretend I'm on TV and me and all my friends suck and shut up this is serious don't fuck up the group dynamics...." God I hate weed smokers. As a class, they're almost as bad as the tweakers -- well, the ones you notice ARE THE SAME as tweakers. It's the corporate shill aspect that is annoying, especially with the fake-"medical" thing. "Hey, I suck as a human being, and so instead of being cool and chilled out on my own, I'll just buy some fake way to pretend to be chill and wear it like a badge." And you know that, because they make a big fucking deal out of it. Anyone actually chill would just smoke whatever and not make a big fucking deal about it, let alone take it (or anything non-serious) seriously.Yeah, George Washington would be proud, that asshole redneck pigshit farmer.Stupid consumer fetishism.
Also, while I've enjoyed some sudoku puzzles, I think there is something fundamentally broken about people who prefer sudoku to a correctly-constructed crossword puzzle. One might just as well be doing real logic, or just fiddling around with some large matrices for that matter. Those are just as fun to do, and they're actual real things -- even if your name is Gauss or M. Jordan and you eliminate in your sleep, there's always something new to figure out. Don't see the point. But also, most (shitty)crossword puzzles, just like that rainbow-pride Minesweeper game, are just games of dumb luck, so I don't see the point of that either. Do people actually think Minesweeper is a game of skill? It's a guessing game. Show me a string of ten games where the outcome can be deterministically solved and I'll eat one, I swear.
Bridge scares me. Card games in general scare me. As a guy who has a fundamental inability to remember or care about what trump is, let alone what cards must be in my partner's hand given the state of play, I can just imagine somebody reaching across the table and cutting my throat, not because they think I'm cheating, but because they just can't put up with me anymore.
My wife loves cards. I can imagine her being the one who cuts my throat.
Well, I wasn't talking about your wife, so let's not get it into your head to re-enact that *Strangers on a Train* scenario. :(
craz
In fact, the best of the O'***** clan died out when my grandmother died of that clan at the age of 55 or something from lung cancer. She taught me when I was a single-digit little scrub how to play cards, and me and my mother have carried on the tradition of that line. Lately I only talk to my mother maybe once every few weeks on the phone -- she's getting all .... she's having a hard time adjusting to this new phase of her life, and, like me, is not that great at remaining calm, and, unlike me, has a limited capacity to learn some new tricks. But one of the things besides movies, Netflix originals, and general kvetching we can talk about that is fun is her little bridge club.
Believe it or not I played bridge in a short-lived club in HS. It's not that bad -- it's just exactly like hearts, except add bidding and a whole bunch of insanely complicated scoring.
It sucks, believe me, but it could be fun with the right, non-serious (but competitive [in a friendly, joking way]!) crew, but so can playing soggy biscuit with a sorority house, I guess, for some people. Not judging. That's the right lifestyle for some people!
Hey guy I'm exchanging e-mails with and who wants to give me a call, the reason I put my phone number in my "signature" block is so people can find my number without sending another e-mail to ask me.
Maybe not everyone is as smart as you. Ever think of that? Hunh?
The biggest fucking mellorant today is I have to show face tonight at 6h40 tonight. Fucking pisses me off.
OK, on a rare chance to watch TV I am hanging out with my mother and she has *60 Minutes* on (it's a US weekly TV show that does little "investigative reporting"-type stories in tabloid [relatively long-format] fashion.
So there was some little blip I overheard where they flashed some insurer called "Anthem"' badge on the screen. My mother sort of grumbled "bah, 'Anthem'," so naturally I asked, "you've had some dealings with 'Anthem'?"
Apparently, they (i) refused to pay for my 62-year old, type I (juvenile)-diabetic-since--7 year-old, father's insulin and (ii) anaesthetic for my then-months-old nephew's open-heart valve replacement surgery.
I didn't have much to say other than at each new revelation (which I believe 100%) verbalize, verbatim, "What?"
Yeah, so it's not really a rant, more a WTF?
You know, I honestly try to be patient, with people, even though it is not part of my personality naturally. I even have a reputation as being amazingly patient.
But God in Heaven, why can't people think for like ten seconds before they call me, just to reflect on whether their question makes a tiny, tiny bit of sense?
don't even start. It is officially one of the weeks over here too. Not so much people being actively annoying, just a constant steady trickle of bullshit stacked on itself.
And the weather sucks, and I hate it.
I'm not sure what the difference between being patient and not giving a fuck (but being sociable IRL, minimally) is, but that's where my head is at now. There's just no difference this week -- people can (a) keep their heads down and do their things and (b) let me do what I have to do without getting in my business.
Dude take a chillax. Or a few. With a full glass of water. Also some fiber.Quote:
Originally posted by Rube E. Tewesday
I just got told to "fuck yourself, dude" IRL, for doing nothing more than answering the door at my clubhouse and saying, upon seeing some rando dude, "Yeah so go look it up if you want to talk to somebody in charge." "Yeah, well look it up -- I'm not the boss here." "Well, go look it up -- I don't work here. This is a clubhouse. Figure it out."
Last thing that cunt said before leaving was "You're not my boss!." WTF moron retards. I don't own your property.
Jerk.
Stop being a cunt, problem solved.Quote:
Originally posted by Rube E. Tewesday
You're welcome.
Yeah, damned right! I don't need to ask permission to be a jerk in my owned damned place. AFAIK some dickbag asks ME permission.Quote:
Originally posted by Jizzelbin
All right maybe I am a dick but OTOH not really my problem.
Please feel free to die.Quote:
Originally posted by RangoStop being a cunt, problem solved.Quote:
Originally posted by Rube E. Tewesday
You're welcome.
I agree that little scrub had no business being other than apologetic for disturbing me at my clubhouse. And for getting shocked -- SHOCKED, I say -- for telling him to fuck off and get lost to his face. Sucks to be him, I guess.Quote:
Originally posted by Rube E. Tewesday
Yeah, why some people feel like they can walk into somebody else's joint and act like they own it, I have no idea.
Oh u missed it. I accidentally deleted the best, on-topic reply to something that just happened 30 minutes ago.
Fucking A. Almost caught the alleged car thief redhanded, and saw a bunch of crazy shit done by her on a busy city street.
I am 100% convinced that little scrub was up to no good sniffing around my clubhouse, and am 100% double-convinced that people need to (i) shut the hell up and (ii) stay the hell off my lawn and also (iii) get the fuck off my property.
Damn, don't leave it like that, man -- details
Well, it *was* a good story. Long story short, some female dickbandit was driving like a cunt while I was in the car with my mother, and while she wanted to call police or whatever I was like "Get her!" So I was a passenger in this pursuant car and blah blah. It sucked.
It takes a long time to set up (i) why I was in the car w my mother or (ii) what the hell her beef was with some alleged laundry-thief or (iii) i can't remember.
Trust me, it's complicated. But it was a good story, I think. Dude that bitch had her cow-catcher driving all over the road. And my mom did some good driving too.
God-damned fucking right. That's the way I feel -- fucking punks. I hope nobody thinks that way about me, and here. I like it here, and I like you people, and I hope it stays that way. I may be a "jerk," but I like the way things are, and I'd have a big word for somebody who tried to change that.Quote:
Originally posted by Rube E. Tewesday
You're cool with me, jizz, and BTW, the "jerk" was for the dude hassling you, not you.
And even without the full story, the idea of you hanging on for dear life while your mother goes Dirty Harry on some punk is pretty funny.
Yeah it was kind of funny -- she's a sixty-something grandma driving a camry. Kind of incongruous. I just ran out of steam trying to set the scene. You know how it is.
All right. I was half-paranoid I got put in the "insane troll" category, just from the way things have been IRL. Wasn't fishing for a compliment, but frankly sometimes it helps.
Well, not so much a rant as a combo.
Rant-portion: I could hardly walk back home today, because I am apparently retarded.
Non-rant-portion: I had a good talk with a friend on the phone, a good talk with a pseudo-friend IRL, and ended up feeling a little better about my shit life.
Rant-portion: naw, nothing more than just being barely able to walk.g
Non-rant-portion: that dickhole at Doc Martens (or however it's spelled) spotted me an awesome pair of loafers. And I saved some money too. These look slicker than goose shit -- I'm happy. I don't know where they find these people to work at these places, but they seem to be a combination of (i) retard hipster shitbags and (ii) faggot idiot doucheniggers and (iii) competent professionals.
Whatever they are, they seem to be good at what they do, so it's better they're gainfully employed rather than breaking into my house when I'm not around.
what did I piss u guys off or something? i know it's St Valentime day, and u guys are family guys! but play with me online! this is my only hobby, besides drinking beer and watching baseball/tennis/hockey!
entertain me about stuff!
oh speaking of the cartoon *Archer* -- fuck I think I have legitimate tinntus.
trust me -- don't ever get it. it's a fucking horrible thing, especially if you value (i) not hearing random buzzing in yr ears (ii) enjoying music or (iii) enjoying not using an ear-trumpet to have a regular conversation.
ear-plugs! protect that shit! trust me.
Ok, what is Archer anyway? It seems to be huge, but it means nothing to me.
Oh, it's a cartoon on US TV. Pretty funny.
But what's it about? I take it it's not exactly Scooby Doo...
Well EH turned me onto it over here -- it's basically a spoof on secret-agent stuff. But it's really pretty funny. Check it out on Netflix -- it's actually kid-friendly, IIRC, and it's funny enough for adults (well...according to me, so cum grano salis).
just saw this -- hilarious. now u see why kids make me laugh? cause they are (i) stupid and (ii) hilarious. kids are funny.Quote:
Originally posted by The Original An Gadaí
not saying your kid is stupid BTW -- just, by definition, kids are pretty dumb. They're like younger undergraduates!
still, they make me laugh with their idiotic ideas -- and that's no slam, just call a spade a spade! adults are idiots but kids are hilarious.
Indeed not. A funny, raunchy animated spy spoof. James Bond turned up to 11 and played for laughs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41dQluLTKDoQuote:
Originally posted by Rube E. Tewesday
I could drown a toddler in my panties! Definitely pretty raunchy, but still safe for kids -- they wouldn't know wtf was going on.
I think it's hilarious, but I'm an old man.
on second thought (or maybe only!)...there is nudity and the choke-sex....I still think kids wouldn't know wtf was going on.
I could stare at that country-artist's boobs all day long. eta it's not porn if it's not real! don't judge me!
yeah, so that happened. phrasing?
are we not doing that anymore?
LOL. One of my favorites:
Archer: "Woohoo! This must be what it's like to have sex with me!"
Lana: "How could an airboat be selfish?"
You're not my supervisor!
Wait, I had something for this... wait... dammit! Eat grenade, stupids!
Wodehouse!
(there are way to many good ones for me to recall, so I'm just going to insult you instead!)
Srsly, Thurston Howell III? Well, I admitted to a teacher in grade school my hero was Alex P Keaton, so maybe I'm not as cool as I pretend.
Whatever, Mister Magoo!
Boo-yah, in your face!
obviously, Jim Backus is the link there -- one of the great character actors
Look for him as a drunk pilot in It's A Mad Mad Mad Mad World, too. Very funny.
I tried watch *Madetc world* -- just couldn't get into it. I should watch more than the first ten minutes.
Now, *Towering Inferno* is the single worst movie I have ever seen. So much worse than *Plan 9* or *The Room*, because they had some real heavy actors who were wasted. Bill freaking Holden fagawdsake!
Really? The single worst movie you've ever seen? To each their own, but Liquid Sky was waaaaay worse IMHO: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liquid_Sky. My all-time least favorite movie.
Towering Inferno? Liquid Sky?
I'm pretty sure you gentleman have never seen Butterfly, Author, Author or I, Frankenstein.
And, if we are to add movies that weren't released theatrically, let me mention Riddler's Moon and Dracula 3000.
I have wasted a good deal of my life.
I'm only saying -- all that cast just wasted. I don't count Z-movies with nobody in it (well, Night of the Lepus did have.....Tippi Hedren or someone incongruous, but it had some entertainment value), or cult midnight-movies.
And I've seen *Crossroads* (with britney spears) and all three transformer movies.
There probably is just some japanese cartoon anime that sucks (like, all of it, most likely) harder, but I don't watch those.
*author, author* was a cute little movie -- saw it on tv as a kid and thought some of the lines in it were good ("What is she, a camper?!"
i'm not a gentleman damned it! stop it!
OK, *Synechdoche, NY* ..... now i have to think. But that didn't have the ensemble cast -- it was just the worst A-movie in its decade.
eta in common w *TI* there was not a single redeeming moment -- not even to laugh at ironically.
OK, I saw *TI* again last night, and maybe it isn't the WORST A-picture I've seen.
It is definitely the worst movie any of: Steve McQueen, Bill Holden, Faye Dunaway, Paul Newman, Fred Astaire, or even Sterling Hayden have ever been in.
I suppose it has a redeeming quality due to its place in history -- namely, to be a teaser for *Die Hard*.
And, anyway, here's a real rant -- why isn't anyone talking to me?
Is it because I said "kike" in the "Bad Habits" thread? Jesus fucking christ! It should be obvious that antisemitism doesn't apply to me any more than homophobia or most other kinds of racism (except maybe that I despise Japanese culture -- but that's got nothing to do with the Japanese I've known and worked with -- anyway, Japanese imperialism has a lot to answer for, to the Chinese, the Koreans, all the allies, and all basic ortho-ethical values, including that of honesty).
Best to avoid all racial, religious and ethnic epithets, even in jest, in message board postings.
And Sterling Hayden wasn't in The Towering Inferno.
Oh. I thought he was and I just didn't recognize him.
Yes, of course I recognize that one avoids political humor in polite company. But my only barometer is, for example, my ex-wife fucking loved calling herself a red-sea pedestrian and so forth. And I would expect if anyone had a problem, they'd say, "chill the fuck out, Adolf!" -- I like to think I have interesting things to say, occasionally, and have earned the right to be called a Ahmajinedad-loving antisemite, if warranted.
Anyway, this isn't exactly polite company, Hanoi Jane. The epithet "gentleman" notwithstanding.
That could be an interesting discussion, though. I don't know, personally, anyone in real life, who object to me calling them a diamond-merchant, a nigger, a redskin, a mick, a spic, a faggot or whatever.
But that's for people I know, and in the right context. eta and by "right context" I don't necessarily mean one-on-one -- just an atmosphere where everyone is mixing with everyone and is used to all the terms and knows everyone else.
and FWIW *Synechdoche, NY* is the worst A-picture ever made. Charlie Kaufman should die -- he got the Malkovich one made, the one about the orchids. He's done.
Well, a cyclone visited my city about a week ago. Took a chunk of my roof and trashed the yard/entrance, so I've had 5 different bits of accommodation in 7 days. Been running on adrenaline, and now I'm just exhausted. Fucking cyclones >_<
Jesus, spitz, floods, cyclones -- you are in a scary place.
Wish you the best.
That sucks butt, spitz.
I live under a lot of trees not in the best of shape (tall, spindly, old, red alders) and I often wonder what I would do if one crashed through my ceiling or a wall. Besides shit my pants, I'd honestly have no idea who to call or what to do.
Apparently you're a little more "can-do." Save your music!
Why does somebody mark their voicemail "urgent", then in the actual message tell you it's not urgent?
And I'm not going back to check, but I have a feeling I've complained about this before.
My life is boring.
Why don't people use their inside voices when having a conversation? What the fuck? Is there something wrong with their hearing? Are they autistic? Are they stupid?
On a GREAT rant: just found out that in my US state, a citizen can, provided he or she is able to identify the face of the driver of a vehicle to which it is registered, file a citizen's complaint of a traffic violation with the relevant court. The defendant will receive a summons.
I won't bore you with the ORS815.225 and so forth, but honking your horn at a pedestrian, under the condition that the pedestrian is not in need of a warning, for example, under the condition that he or she is walking at an average speed, within the boundaries of a marked crosswalk with an electronic sentinel signaling device, i.e., "the walk sign," is a Class C traffic violation, with a presumptive fine of $160, a minimum fine of $80, and a maximum of $500. Of course, the issuer of the citation will have to appear in court, if the defendant chooses to oblige the court's legal demand, but that's the end of the story.
You shit-fucking motherfucker's fucker puke. I'm mister safe walker, then as now, even removing headphones to remove appearance of impropriety, for several years. Now it's me, the same, taking a photograph of your license plate and your face, and heading to the police station.
You son of a bitch puke. It would be much better if I could see you drive into a tree, your infant ejected from the vehicle and impaled on a tree stump, and a few broken legs for the perp, but the punishment should fit the crime. Lex talionis, or whatever, but I'm not fucking Hammurabi.
And it's not my place to judge -- but it is absolutely my place to make you piece of shit pay for your miserable waste of human sperm that you are.
That is, in fact, a great rant.
Well, that's what I said, isn't it? :)
Here's a Mello-mini, summed up in a comic. Meh, I was in a great mood today, and then I was reminded that, yes, there are people like Frank in the world. Fortunately, I don't see any around me at the mo! Doesn't get more mellow than that. In fact, that's a little project for someone else to rant about.