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If you don’t watch “Last Comic Standing” or “Hell’s Kitchen” or “Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List”–then you’re not watching television. Moreover, if you aren’t tuning in to the first episode of “Project Runway,” then you better be doing something important–like performing an open-heart operation or hunting down the guy who came up with the sh*tastic ideas for those cheesy 1-800-DENTIST commercials.

Anyway–this is the extent of my hitting rock-bottom: I measure my daily level of productivity according to how many missions I complete in “Monster Hunter Freedom.” No, I’m not joking. So the day I killed off a wyvern and delivered one of its stolen eggs was a GOOD DAY! But the day that I killed off 50 Vespoids and died three times during a different wyvern quest was a BAD DAY! This is super pathetic.

And finally–I saw an AIDS commercial where a montage of still-photos of various individuals floated across the streen, and voices accompanying the pictures would say: I have AIDS. The last picture was of this Asian man who looked oddly familiar to me—and then I realized:

He is also on the LSAC.org website! And with the exact same picture!

Does he know what his agency has done with this photo?

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Massage loving Businessman looking for one or two massage specialists who will also work as drivers/personal assistants. Must own car and have flexible schedule. Should have knowledge of deep tissue, shiatsu and 4-hand massage techniques. Attractive females between 21-45 only. Please be creative in letting me know what you can do. Pic good but not required.

 

This is an actual ad on Craigs List–and I’m pretty sure there is a double entendre to the term “personal assistant” (i.e. personal whore). But I have to give him some credit: I wouldn’t have been quite as obvious about my desire to hire a call girl as this guy; I probably would have gone with the safer route and said something like, “Roman Catholic Priest seeks young, supple male between the ages of 8 and 12 to light candles and sing some songs.” That doesn’t insinuate anything.

And what does he mean by “be creative in letting me know what you can do”? Or, I guess the better way to phrase it–what doesn’t he mean? My first guess is that he doesn’t want resumes as much as he wants a hands-on tutorial…but that’s just me. For all I know, he could actually be requesting the applicant to beat him with a rubber hose and have him call her “mommy”. You dirty, dirty businessman.

Anyway, I’m taking online traffic school right now—sort of. WebTrafficSchool.com has this ridiculous system of requiring students to wait 7.5 minutes before continuing on to the next page. I tried to hit continue after I read the [boring] information, but this message came up, scolding me for not reading the page carefully. 7.5 minutes is a long time to read this garbage…now I’m forced to spend the rest of the time looking at weird Craigs List ads and making fun of them.

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We all know how much I despise irresponsible parents (January 15, 2006 entry)…but this has just left me seething with rage:

Teen, mom sue MySpace.com for $30 million

A 14-year-old Travis County girl who said she was sexually assaulted by a Buda man she met on MySpace.com sued the popular social networking site Monday for $30 million, claiming that it fails to protect minors from adult sexual predators.

No! No you stupid bitch! It’s not MySpace’s fault, it’s YOUR fault you signed up on the site! It’s YOUR fault you gave a stranger your personal information! It’s YOUR fault you put yourself in the position to allow this stranger near you and sexually assault you! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT.

This lawsuit is a f*cking joke, right? Because unless MySpace was in the practice of forcing parents to give their children free access to computers and threatening to kill kids if they didn’t make themselves available to pedophiles–there is NO WAY anyone is going to award this mother $30 million for being a BAD PARENT.

But let’s give this crazy ass the benefit of the doubt. This mother must have some sort of weird definition of “parent” that I have not heard of–one that views parents as mere incubators for embryos, and society as a community joined together in the collective effort of protecting the human race from extinction.

Umm..no. Maybe on planet “I am a sh*tty parent”, but not on Earth. I am not going to bear the responsibility of raising someone else’s children because it wasn’t my choice for them to have those kids–just like it wasn’t MySpace’s choice for that dumbass to give a pedophile access to her whereabouts. If the teenager wants to sue someone, she should sue her mother for giving her the freedom to go on websites that have been reported as being buffet lines for sexual predators. The fact that scumbags troll the internet for kids is OLD NEWS. OLD F*CKING NEWS.

I can’t even articulate how angering this article makes me–it’s just unfathomable that there are people out there who willingly relinquish all responsibility for their children’s actions in an effort to alleviate their own guilt. Spare us the bullsh*t and just admit that you f*cked up. And the only reward you’re going to get is the lesson that so many parents already know: don’t let your kids use the computer without supervision. I know this, and I don’t even have kids!

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Bullsh*t tends to come in various forms: book form, televised form, movie form, literal-animal-poo-form, etc. I personally prefer newspaper bullsh*t over any other embodiment because it’s easier to take apart. You’d be surprised how many gaping potholes some people leave in their bullsh*t columns.

Take 1st Lt. Ehren Watada’s column in Sunday’s Honolulu Advertiser. As you may or may not know, this man refused to be deployed to Iraq because he didn’t want to participate in a war he believed was illegal. I think this is rather old news from maybe last week or so, but since then I’ve seen him appear on “Fox and Friends” in an effort to defend his decision, and try to get us to believe that he’s not a pussy.

You can read the bullsh*t here:

Opposing war in Iraq my duty as American

I found Mr. Watada’s attempted justification for his refusing to be deployed to Iraq a less-than-stellar argument. Using the sheep’s skin of protesting “unlawful and immoral dangers,” Mr. Watada has simply used his catch-phrase as a blanket to cover up his own unlawful and immoral tendencies.

For one thing, why would Mr. Watada have enlisted in the military out of the “pull of duty, service and patriotism” in March 2003—which was, by the way, the same month that Operation Iraqi Freedom commenced (March 20, 2003, to be exact)—when he did not believe an invasion of Iraq was fully justified? President Bush had begun campaigning for the invasion and occupation back in September 2002, before Mr. Watada joined, and which arguably gave him enough time to formulate his own opinions opposing the war. And yet, he enlisted despite his so-called reservations. Did he expect to have been deployed somewhere else other than to Iraq, and not have to fight in a war that has become a major subject in political and social debate, and which has undoubtedly defined this generation? Or did he hope to never be deployed at all, and thus be able to freely accept the windfall of benefits of being in the army reserve, such as life and medical insurance and stipends to cover his living expenses outside of active duty?

 

Is that behavior lawful and moral, Mr. Watada?

 

Secondly, it is hard to believe that Mr. Watada would have immersed himself in the “books and articles” he read on the war had he not been deployed. As he said in his column: “Since I learned of my deployment last year, I wanted to know everything about war…the turning point came in January 2006.”

 

Tell me, Mr. Watada, if you did not bother to educate yourself on war prior to about 2005, then does that mean you had no problem with the war since you basically had no idea what it was about? Where did your opinions against the war come from to begin with if you did not bother to read up on the subject until two years after you enlisted?

 

What Mr. Watada is basically trying to get us true patriots to believe is that he was morally opposed to being deployed to Iraq to fight in the war (for whatever reasons he had since his article made only vague references to a few of them), and yet morally unopposed to accepting benefits from the government, and being voluntarily ignorant to major political and social topics up until they directly affect him—none of which are a part of the definitions of “duty,” “service,” or “patriotism,” in any dictionary. Perhaps Mr. Watada should have done more research before he chose to lie to the American people to cover up his own cowardice.

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| Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt

Yes, I am going to go out and buy a copy.

I don’t care about celebrity news…unless it’s negative news…but otherwise, I don’t care about celebrity news.

But I am quite smitten with Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt–well, more like, I’m smitten with those two and their children as a unit. Individually, I’m not attached (my emotions are spent on adoring Jackie Chan)–but there is something heartwarming and pudgey-baby cuddly about the “Brangelina” (I hate that monicker…it sounds really profane for some reason) clan.

For one thing, I love couples who are devoted to their children. LOVE THEM. I love them even more when it involves disgustingly rich movie stars who can have anything they want, and yet choose to devote all their free time and money into their offspring and charity work. It’s like a less superficial side of Hollywood—to me, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt make movies to support their family, and not to be famous and rich and fund their mansion on the Moon.

Insanely rich beautiful people…who love their kids…LOVE THEM.

So I’m going to buy the People magazine today because I want to see photos of the two most beautiful and inspiring people in Hollywood fawn over their new daughter, and descibe the rapture they feel over the new addition to their family.

I want to be a mom…but first, I have to become an ambassador of goodwill and donate a billion dollars to UNICEF.

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I was watching this clip on MSN.com (great Keith Olbermann clips available, by the way…I love that man) about the hunting habits of house cats. To get the full effect of the cat-killing experience, the good people at National Geographic fitted someone’s housecat with a camera, and taped a scene of the cat stalking, killing, and devouring a mouse. Yummy…

As I was watching this, my own two cats were deeply involved in their daily 16 hour nap. And who can blame them for sleeping so much, huh? I mean, walking to the feeding bowl, litter box, and water dish is hard work! And it’s physically taxing for them to use their little paws to push the bathroom door open while I’m taking a dump, so they can run over and get me to pet them (they’re smart…they know that when I’m pooping, I can’t get up and ignore them when they want a backrub or ear scratch.)

Whatever this MSN.com clip about a house cats’ hunting skills was talking about, it didn’t apply to my cats because their cat instincts have evolved into…human instincts. They’re basically babies with lots and lots of body hair.

I’ve watched them “hunt” before…there were two instances where a lone cricket had wandered into my apartment and was hopping around trying to find an exit. The only reason why I noticed it was because my cats were following it around. They didn’t bat at it, or do anything to imply that they were going to pounce on it and kill it. No, they followed it: to the corners of the bedroom, to the closet, to the bed…and even after I had thrown the cricket into the toilet, the cats were still trying to follow it. Perhaps they thought it was their mama or something.

This is what I imagine my cats would be like if they encountered a mouse:

 

Yes, my babies would rather show a rabies-infested mouse hospitality than the cruel death of being mauled by claws and teeth.

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The new X-Men should be rented, and not watched in a theater.

Because you’d much rather have the bad taste fill your mouth while you’re in the comforts of your own home, instead of having it invade while you’re in a crowded theater, with no place to run.

And I’m saying this as someone who loves the X-Men. As far as comic movies are concerned, I liked the X-Men franchise the best even though the screenwriters had manipulated the comic book story lines for mainstream consumption. It was still satisfying, nerd-fare.

But then…BRETT RATNER took over for Brian Singer…but I like Brett Ratner. Even though he’s whoring himself to Lindsay Lohan, he directed both Rush Hour movies–which starred my sweet-tooth Jackie Chan—and therefore Ratner is good in my book.

Until he did this mockery of a comic series I loved. Not enough character development, too monotonous in certain scenes, no focus on the characters the fans really wanted to see again for the last time. It left me unsatisfied—there was much to be desired…and, ultimately I left the theater quite depressed.

I know the point of the movie was to bring to the forefront that this was going to be the final X-Men film…but I don’t think so many loose ends needed to be tied up to usher in impending doom. Did all those things really have to happen? Did all that misery have to be written in? And did all those useless side-bar characters have to be introduced?

I can’t help be feel robbed…

So now I must go and find my X-2 DVD so I can erase the pain X-Men 3 left behind.

 

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I have occassionally been the lucky recipient of clockwork bowel movements–and nothing is more liberating than having to poo at the same time every day. This usually happens whenever I come back from Hawaii or Taiwan…and for some reason, I’ll have to take a dump every morning. It’s refreshing…rejuvenating…and takes a load (pun intended! pun intended!) off my mind (but let’s not read that into meaning I believe my mind is equivalent to my butt).

However, apparently my body feels that I deserve some form of punishment for—I don’t know what. And thus, lately I have had to poo in the middle of the night. It’s becoming quite the distraction…I’ll be dreaming that I’m sitting in a law school exam, and the subsequent oppression starts to manifest itself in the form of physical pain. But when I wake up, I’ll realize the pain comes from a large mass of gas forming in my intestines–a sign that I need to poop NOW.

So here’s what I’m thinking…my intestines took a vacation to Zimbabwe or something…and so now they’re jetlagged. Hence, when they feel the need to drop some baggage, they’re running on Zimbabwe time—which is equivalent to midnight in California (naturally, I didn’t bother to calculate this).

My intestines better get it together SOON, or else I’m going to have to start taking some action on my own: spicy-ass food (not, “ass food” as in suppositories…it’s more as in “really spicy”).

I am a genius!

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There is something about me that makes me really, really, really love playing games where I get to control people (i.e. RPG’s, The Sims, etc.)…which is why I have become super duper obsessed with the game “Black & White 2”. This habit somehow insinuates that I have a complex of some sort…but I wonder which one.

 An inferiority complex, in the fields of psychology and psychoanalysis, is a feeling that one is inferior to others in some way. It is often unconscious, and is thought to drive afflicted individuals to overcompensate, resulting either in spectacular achievement or extreme antisocial behavior. Unlike a normal feeling of inferiority, which can act as an incentive for achievement, an inferiority complex is an advanced state of discouragement, often resulting in a retreat from difficulties.

Or is it…

Narcissism is a defense mechanism related to the splitting defense mechanism. The narcissist fails to regard other people, situations, or entities (political parties, countries, races, his workplace) as a compound of good and bad elements. He either idealizes his object, or devalues it. Things are seen in black and white; the object is either all good or all bad. The bad attributes are always projected, displaced, or otherwise externalized. The good ones are internalized in order to support the inflated (grandiose) self-concepts of the narcissist and his grandiose fantasies, as well as to avoid the pain of deflation and disillusionment.

The narcissist pursues narcissistic supply (attention, both positive and negative) and uses it to regulate his, often, fragile and fluctuating sense of self-worth.

Wikipedia seems to say that I have an inferiority complex–but I used to have a superiority complex until I realized two weeks ago that it is not normal to have a hemorrhoid at 24 (I knew I should have changed toilet paper brands sooner).

Which makes sense because if ever there was a game that let me carry out “spectacular overachievement” it would indeed be Black & White. Picture it…

In the game, you get to be a god to these oppressed Greeks who have been decimated by the Aztecs (somewhat strange, considering Aztecs were from Mexico…which isn’t too close to Greece as I recall). Anyway, you save some refugees and relocate them to a distant land where you have to rebuild their civilization and then eventually take over the world. You can do this either by being diplomatic–essentially a good god–or you can do this by killing and pillaging–which is obviously the bad god. And since the world is almost completely interactive, EVERYTHING you do affects your goodness/badness ratio.

For instance, I accidentally de-hutted one of my worshippers. He was asking me to move a boulder off of his property, but because I wasn’t too savvy with the mouse, I ended up dropping the boulder on his grass hut. Then all these red “EVIL” words started popping up around the broken hut…which I suppose means I have become a bit more bad ass. Whatever…it was funny as hell.

I think the best part about the whole game is that you get this pet–which I suppose is like the middle-man (or middle-beast, I guess) between the people and me. The beast runs around and helps the citizens…but you have to teach it things first. Like…when you first get the animal (mine is a wolf…I picked him because he dances) and it needs to go take a dump, it immediately runs towards a villager and says “I’m going to poop on the villager!” But I was zoomed far away so I couldn’t reprimand it…by the time I zoomed in, this old woman was surrounded by large, animal feces. I had to smack my wolf around to teach it not to poop on people…

(…Wish my parents had taught me that though. It probably would have saved me a couple of friends. WER-WER.)

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Has anyone paid attention to those Budweiser “Real Men of Genius”  commercials?

They’re the best thing that’s ever happened to our society! Right up there on my list next to Big Macs and Final Fantasy.

Here is one of the funniest ones I’ve ever heard: Mr. Really Stinky Breath Breather Outer:

Today, we salute you, Mr. Really Stinky Breath Breather Outer
(Mr. Really Stinky Breath Breather Outer)
Though we’d never tell you to your face,
You’ve got the breath that could stop a charging elephant.
(Show us some mercy)
We want to hear what you have to say,
we just want you to say it from way over there.
(Keep on going)
What was it you had for lunch, a dead rat, a rotten egg, a turd sandwich?
(nasty turd sandwich)
Whatever it was, it just singed off my eyelashes.
(oh)
So, crack open an ice cold budlight barnacle breath,
because you put the hell in halitosis.

(Mr. Really Stinky Breath Breather Outer)

[The stuff in the parenthesis denotes parts that this rock-singe person chimes in on in between lines.]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *deep breath* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

How come all the cool commercials are the ones I never see? I’m always stuck with the crappy Geico “cartoon gecko lectures real gecko” commercial, and the nightmarish 1-800-DENTIST commercial where the woman over-dramatizes how thankful she is to find a dentist that doesn’t molest her son. (Okay, maybe “molest” isn’t the word, but from her facial expressions you’d swear that was what she intended.)

I have to find more of these Real Men of Genius clips!

2005 commercials

List generated by Wikipedia