modal

lol!

2007-11-16T16:01:00.000-08:00

moar funny pictures

happy birthday to me! 28... woot!

2007-11-14T00:00:00.000-08:00

oh jenkies!

2007-11-06T15:19:00.000-08:00

why does this exist?

2007-10-10T18:58:00.001-07:00

PRAYING MANTIS...

2007-09-25T22:03:00.000-07:00

YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE BEING SNEAKY, BUT I'M ONTO YOU!

From the WTF Files: Vulva Original

2007-09-20T15:45:00.000-07:00

Ummm, wtf? I'm seriously frightened by this one. Vulva Original is not cologne or perfume, it is concentrated, simulated "vaginal scent" that you are supposed to apply to the back of your hand so you can intensify "your erotic fantasies and start the film rolling in your head." The FAQs section of the site is pretty choice... unfortunately it doesn't include the question that has been on my mind, "Does naming it 'original' mean that there are other exciting Vulva scents coming out such as Vulva: Menstruation and Vulva: Yeast Infection?" It turns out the development page answers that question... while the smell of menstruation and yeast is so not hot right now, apparently Vulva will soon come out with Vulva: Eighteen and Vulva: Exotic. You know, because barely legal and "exoticized other" vaginas totally smell different than original vaginas. I can only shudder to think what those scent masters will think to infuse into those concoctions (I can just picture the board meeting with a bunch of middle-aged white pervs demanding essence of lollipop and Chinese five-spice).

this man...

2007-09-18T12:26:00.000-07:00

tried to befriend me on myspace. I think I'm going to say no. I figure my friends should at the very least be in the same astral plane as me... at best they are people I have actually interacted with in some way before the person clicks a button to add me as a friend.

monday means exercise

2007-09-17T14:00:00.000-07:00

the weekend is over and I stuffed myself with fried chicken and schnitzel so it's time to exercise - every Monday and Wednesday afternoon I take an aerobics and strength training class offered through the Urbana Park District - the class looks a lot like this video

My Latest Procrastinatory Obsession: pandora.com

2007-09-08T11:28:00.000-07:00

Back in 2000 a group of music-tech geeks got together to create "The Music Genome Project" - a project that aimed to analyze music by hundreds of attributes (or "genes") combined into thousands of "focus traits" so that a site like pandora.com can identify music you might like depending upon the initial band(s) you input into the site. It then streams songs to you over the internets they think you might like. The claim is matching music by these "genes" will identify music that can resonate with you that goes beyond simple identifications by genre or self-identified "influences" a band might list. Funded by evil corporations and advertising? Yes, I'm sure (including Sprint, my horrible cell phone provider)... but the advertisements are relatively innocuous and I have actually discovered some really great music on the site. Now whether I'll actually buy the music... will remain to be seen.

A Furby by any other name...

2007-09-03T06:35:00.000-07:00

Yume Neko Smile, the Creepy Cat Robot from Sega
Uploaded by AkihabaraNews

what?

2007-08-26T21:19:00.001-07:00

I spilled hipster beer on myself and drawing with Sharpies is fun

2007-08-21T18:57:00.000-07:00

thanks for the pics Lisa!

my petsitting continues...

2007-08-12T22:17:00.000-07:00

the BEST craigslist personal ad EVER

2007-08-08T22:38:00.000-07:00

So my friend, who loves to giggle at the personal ads in our local craigslist saw this and immediately thought I should see it:

Let us frolic in my totally dope blanket fort - 21
Yes, I know what you’re saying, “dude, that blanket fort sucks.” That would not be the first time I’ve heard such scathing reviews. Its structural integrity is dubious at best and there isn’t a whole lot of headroom. But c’mon, it’s not like I’m a fucking architect. Besides, this little baby is just a prototype. I have vast resources of cushions for anchoring and blankets in order to maximize square footage. My living room is just waiting to be turned into a wicked sweet labyrinth of love.

I am very open to suggestions in respect to design and construction, as I’d like this fort to be a shared vision. Much like the Taj Mahal, its intended that this little beauty will be inspired by a very special lady. Once our shelter is erected, we can move in and work on some of our higher order needs. Or we could just order a pizza and tell ghost stories. Please email me with a picture if you want to be invited to this living room party. It will be sweet.

PS: I’m allowed to have sleepovers.

Thrills from a Detention Center in the Philippines

2007-08-05T16:23:00.000-07:00

My posts are coming few and far between these days - the summer heat, actual work, and my back injury have not motivated me to do much extracuricular blogging... and then I run across a video like this and I know I have to share. The inmates at Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center united in their love for Michael Jackson's early video masterpiece, "Thriller." If for any reason the embedded video says you require a plug-in, you can access the video at this link too.

sugar toast: a blog about comfort food

2007-07-24T14:03:00.000-07:00

my friend kimmy p has started a multi-contributor food blog about the simple, comfort food recipes that make our worlds go 'round. you should check it out.

Blu-Blockers

2007-07-22T19:05:00.001-07:00

So I've been absent for a while because I was away in Idaho for a week and injured my back. Lately my friends have been reminiscing about things we ate or watched when we were younger. Angelo and I remembered this random commercial for Blu-Blocker sunglasses and, sure enough, Angelo found the commerical on youtube. Anyone else remember this one?

congrats jason and kim

2007-07-20T23:19:00.000-07:00

this shirt is funny

2007-07-02T14:48:00.001-07:00

enough said.

Straight out of a John Waters movie: "Man beats peacock he says was a vampire"

2007-07-01T06:42:00.000-07:00

AP; NEW YORK -

A peacock that roamed into a fast-food restaurant parking lot was attacked by man who vilified the bird as a vampire, animal-control authorities said. Beaten so fiercely that most of his tail feathers fell out, the bird was euthanized, said Richard Gentles, a spokesman for the city's Center for Animal Care and Control.

"It's just unbelievable that someone would do something to a poor, defenseless animal and do it in such a cruel fashion," he said.

The peacock, a male several years old, wandered into a Staten Island Burger King parking lot and perched on a car hood Thursday morning. Charmed employees had been feeding him bread when the man appeared. He seized the iridescent bird by the neck, hurled it to the ground and started kicking and stomping the creature, said worker Felicia Finnegan, 19.

"He was going crazy," she said.

Asked what he was doing, she said, the attacker explained, "'I'm killing a vampire!'"

Employees called police, but the man ran when he saw them. Authorities were looking for the attacker, described as being in his teens or early 20s. It was not clear how the bird made his way to the Burger King, but a Staten Island resident who raises peacocks said he had given some to a person who lives near the restaurant.

As Fourth of July nears, Kobayashi has jaw arthritis!

2007-06-26T14:40:00.000-07:00

In what may be the greatest upset since the 2002 Lakers-Kings playoff series, Takeru "Tsunami" Kobayashi has been diagnosed with jaw arthritis less than two weeks before the annual Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest (THE hot dog eating event of the year). News reports quote Takeru as saying, "My jaw refused to fight any more." Despite experiencing pain during training, Takeru continued to eat and now can't even open his mouth an inch (that's 2.5 cm for you metric folks out there). Sadly this year's contest was shaping up to be the most exciting one in years, what with the sudden appearance of dark horse Joey Chestnut who broke Takeru's world record for eating hot dogs earlier this month. I think you should consider eating a hot dog this evening in honor of Takeru, the Hot Dog world's [potentially] fallen hero and hope for a miraculous recovery - I know I will. If he doesn't compete, I'll lose a mint on all of those commemorative Kobayashi-Chestnut matchup t-shirts, decorative bandannas, and miniature pewter spoons I planned to hawk at the event.

A Seersucker Concert Addendum

2007-06-19T16:55:00.001-07:00

I forgot to mention the funniest part of the concert. Chris and I were settled into our balcony seats (not the best location, but not too bad) waiting for the concert to start when this dude comes stumbling down the next aisle, taking the seat directly behind us. He was wearing a slightly off-center baseball cap and a t-shirt with an unbuttoned seersucker dress shirt in multiple colors over it. His pants were also seersucker, BUT a totally different loud pattern of seersucker from the shirt. For all the tumbleweeds and crickets reading my blog out there who may not be familiar with seersucker, I have pasted a picture of some samples of it to the left. As you can see, the reason I'm noting his ensemble is because it was LOUD. And so was he. Did I mention he had a tumbler of rum and coke from the theatre's bar in his hand? Yeah, he reeked of it. Even before the concert began, he started shouting out random, drunken things. When it did finally began and Wilco took the stage, before each song began he would shout out "Wishful Thinking" several times at the top of his voice. What especially cracked me up about this is because "Wishful Thinking" is such a quiet, quiet, thoughtful song and this man was definitely not. During the first five songs or so he decided to garble the lyrics at the top of his lungs. Several times Chris and I both expressed we were on the verge of punching the man out. But then it grew quiet... I assumed he must have finally passed out from all the booze. Instead, he disappeared for the ENTIRE concert. When the lights came up in the theatre I asked Chris if he thought the guy had been kicked out. He conjectured that he was passed out in the bathroom somewhere or at the bar. Sure enough, when we exited the balcony there was seersucker dude, completely red-faced and sloshy, standing by the bar and yelling to his friends. Sigh. What would we be without wishful thinking?

Human Plows

2007-06-18T21:36:00.000-07:00

I attempted this position in yoga tonight. I looked exactly like the woman pictured to the left only I wasn't wearing an aqua bodysuit, my toes were resting on a chair, my shoulders were on blankets, and my yoga instructor was in the background commanding us to make sure we were rolling our "side thighs" to the ceiling while keeping our knees and "backchests" straight. I don't think this is a relaxation asana. Especially when you can't figure out how to roll your side thighs or what a backchest is exactly.

Wilco at the Murat Theatre, Indianapolis June 15, 2007

2007-06-16T21:47:00.001-07:00

In February of 2005 I got to see Wilco on my university's campus and they opened with "Hell is Chrome" - a really haunting song whose almost-cheerful opening piano chords betray the lyrics and Jeff Tweedy's resigned, but achingly beautiful voice that follows (apologies for all the hyperbole, but it's deserved!). That song set the tone for a wonderful concert over two years ago and I finally got to see the band again last night. The show was really good but it seems like Wilco has changed in the last couple of years - this is a completely unfair complaint but last night nearly every song they played just sounded... too happy (even the wrenching ones - like "Jesus, Etc." and a really amazing, newly orchestrated version of "Sunken Treasure") . Maybe this is a reflection of their new album or the addition of Nels Cline to the band, but it seems like they have shifted towards a new focus on longer instrumental jams that display the guitar talents of Cline and away from a band who had/still has at its center an amazing singer/songwriter whose lyrics resonate so intensely. Then again maybe it was just an off night and the vocals were set too low compared to the instrumentation... they still play well, long, and with so much energy. Unfortunately no cover of "Don't Fear the Reaper" last night either - instead we got a macrame owl with a goofy light display on it :)

A "Gay" Bomb. Ummm, what?

2007-06-12T12:06:00.000-07:00

US military pondered love not war

The US military investigated building a "gay bomb", which would make enemy soldiers "sexually irresistible" to each other, government papers say.
Other weapons that never saw the light of day include one to make soldiers obvious by their bad breath.

The US defence department considered various non-lethal chemicals meant to disrupt enemy discipline and morale.

The 1994 plans were for a six-year project costing $7.5m, but they were never pursued.

The US Air Force Wright Laboratory in Dayton, Ohio, sought Pentagon funding for research into what it called "harassing, annoying and 'bad guy'-identifying chemicals".
The plans were obtained under the US Freedom of Information by the Sunshine Project, a group which monitors research into chemical and biological weapons.

'Who? Me?'

The plan for a so-called "love bomb" envisaged an aphrodisiac chemical that would provoke widespread homosexual behaviour among troops, causing what the military called a "distasteful but completely non-lethal" blow to morale.

Scientists also reportedly considered a "sting me/attack me" chemical weapon to attract swarms of enraged wasps or angry rats towards enemy troops.

A substance to make the skin unbearably sensitive to sunlight was also pondered.

Another idea was to develop a chemical causing "severe and lasting halitosis", so that enemy forces would be obvious even when they tried to blend in with civilians.

In a variation on that idea, researchers pondered a "Who? Me?" bomb, which would simulate flatulence in enemy ranks.

Indeed, a "Who? Me?" device had been under consideration since 1945, the government papers say.

However, researchers concluded that the premise for such a device was fatally flawed because "people in many areas of the world do not find faecal odour offensive, since they smell it on a regular basis".

Captain Dan McSweeney of the Joint Non-Lethal Weapons Directorate at the Pentagon said the defence department receives "literally hundreds" of project ideas, but that "none of the systems described in that [1994] proposal have been developed".

He told the BBC: "It's important to point out that only those proposals which are deemed appropriate, based on stringent human effects, legal, and international treaty reviews are considered for development or acquisition."

Story from BBC NEWS:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/1/hi/world/americas/4174519.stm

Published: 2005/01/15 06:38:30 GMT

© BBC MMVII

That's the look of sheer joy.

2007-06-03T20:58:00.000-07:00

Joey Chestnut broke the world record for hot dog eating yesterday by eating 59.5 HBDs (hot dogs and buns) in 12 minutes. The previous record was set by the Tiger Woods of eating contests, Takeru Kobayashi, who ate 53.75 HBDs in 12 minutes last fourth of July. Chestnut is also the champion at eating jalapeno poppers (118 in 10 minutes) - a contest that I like to refer to as the "Flaming O-Ring Challenge."

“These guys’ numbers have just been going up at a tremendous clip,” Ryan Nerz (representative for Major League Eating) said. “I always thought there was a limit — a limit to the human stomach and a limit to human willpower — but I guess not.”

The true test for Chestnut comes on the fourth of July when he faces Kobayashi at the premiere hot dog eating contest of the year held by Nathan's Famous on Coney Island. In speaking about Chestnut's chances, xenophobe and chair of the International Federation of Competitive Eating, George Shea, argued, "the Fourth of July has been stolen from Americans because of Kobayashi's dominance and now America has someone who they can get excited about."

youtube: my digital xanax

2007-05-30T16:53:00.000-07:00

So earlier today I planned a vitriolic (and even violent) post against Kobe Bryant but I was kindly reminded I have a seriously warped sense of sportsmanship. I will have to wait to see if he actually wants to be traded or be a "Laker for Life" and instead I retreated to youtube to watch relaxing videos. My favorites today come from damienfilms, who has decided to subscribe to my stupid videos. What I like most about his/her videos are the titles. I present to you "Adorable Cutest Doggy" (featuring a near-catatonic husky and funny whispering) and "Hamsters - Wheel of Death Too Much Fast" (nine seconds of bliss). Let's just say I'm much calmed down now.

Kimmy P: I just want to tell you how I'm feeling... gotta make you understand

2007-05-28T16:17:00.000-07:00

KP: I know you got mad at me for recycling pics, but there are a lot of majorly talented people who recycle material. I provide video evidence below. Two performances separated by twenty years, and yet the song has still "got it." So does Rick Astley. He is set to go through puberty any day now. Can we set Peabo aside for a moment and make it the summer of Rick?

1 Year and 100 Posts!

2007-05-25T23:10:00.000-07:00

oh, and probably only 1 reader!
I would ask for a prize, but procrastination is gift enough itself.

A little over a week and a couple of thousand miles away

2007-05-24T00:47:00.000-07:00

From the LA Times today...

2007-05-19T12:16:00.000-07:00

In the wake of his tragic death, friends remember 'a true artist' who loved to explore new sounds.

By Greg Burk
Special to The Times

May 19, 2007

Guitarist Jim McAuley had no trouble this week recalling his first meeting with fellow guitarist Rod Poole. It was at the home of Nels Cline, well before the three recorded their "Acoustic Guitar Trio" album.

"I was standing in Nels' kitchen, sipping coffee, when these amazing crystalline tones emerged from the living room," McAuley said. "Rod Poole was just tuning up, and already I was mesmerized by his sound."

Cline, a key player in L.A.'s experimental music scene and now a member of Wilco, described Poole as "a true artist, probably a genius" in a note on his website, posted after Poole was stabbed to death on Sunday in the parking lot of Mel's Drive-In.

His wife, Lisa Ladaw-Poole, was there when it happened.

The couple was walking toward the restaurant, after attending a concert at the Dangerous Curve art gallery downtown, when a car nearly struck them and other pedestrians. The musician spoke up; the vehicle's driver and passenger both got out, the latter allegedly with a knife, according to police. A half hour later, Poole died.

A security camera provided images that led to the quick arrest of Michael and Angela Sheridan. They were arraigned Wednesday.

Ladaw-Poole fielded a lot of phone calls this week, many of them from the parents of Poole's guitar students who hadn't gotten the news and were wondering why he didn't show up for their children's guitar lessons.

"These children loved Rod," Ladaw-Poole said Wednesday. "He was really kind with them."

Poole was a highly unusual guitarist, equally drawn to the distorted sound bombs of Jimi Hendrix and the spontaneous microcosmic tracings of Derek Bailey.

"I never could quite figure out how one man with one guitar could generate such an all-enveloping aural space," said Devin Sarno, an electronic drone artist who recorded Poole twice for Sarno's W.I.N. label.

Having left his native England in 1989 to find a more exploratory climate, Poole fell in with a devoted cloister of Los Angeles pathfinders that included Kraig Grady, Brad Laner and Motor Totemist Guild.

Grady, who composes in microtonal scales that employ the frequencies between Western music's traditional 12 tones, introduced Poole to his own mentor, Erv Wilson. Wilson is a pioneer in microtonal music and "just" intonation, which tunes to vibrations' natural mathematical ratios rather than the tempered scales used in orchestras.

Never one to take halfway measures, Poole lived in Wilson's house for more than five years and emerged with his own way of hearing.

He had a Martin guitar re-fretted to 17 tones and, using his already precise, shaded finger-picking technique, began improvising trance-bound variations on spacious arpeggios that could extend until time vanished.

Poole's solo, group and bowed-guitar recordings have appeared on the W.I.N., Transparency and Incus labels (the last being Bailey's imprint).

Poole's music was the first and last thing heard Wednesday on KXLU-FM's (88.9) "Trilogy" show, this night hosted by old Motor Totemist friends Emily Hay and Lynn Johnston.

Pinging and plucking, gently contracting and expanding, with "just" harmonies fluttering their intangible physicality throughout, the improvisation exuded an uncanny sense of peace. In contrast to its quiet beauty, it was titled "The Death Adder."

Earlier in the day, Johnston described Poole as "a low-key guy — he was only in your face about music."

Two words that surfaced repeatedly when people talked about Poole's artistic temperament were "passion" and "intensity."

Experimental guitarist Jeremy Drake, a curator of the "Sound" concerts at Schindler House in West Hollywood, wrote on a Poole tribute site: "Rod was always fully present. Good mood or bad, you got the full Rod Poole experience whenever he was in the room."

Cindy Bernard, a primary "Sound" series organizer, said Poole was extremely meticulous about the many recordings he engineered for the series' archive: "It's rare to know someone whose enthusiasm for music is so pure."

Instrumentalist and composer Vinny Golia, long the most pervasive influence in this city's edge-music community, agreed. Poole once recorded a performance Golia had done with German bassist Peter Kowald. When Golia wanted a copy, Poole broke down his equipment, carried it over to Golia's house and made the transfer there, not wanting to take any chances that the copy wouldn't be perfectly compatible with Golia's system.

Guitarist Carey Fosse, who knew Poole mainly in Poole's transitional period of the early '90s, called him "a wonderful improviser, very disciplined, and with beautiful articulation. I think his technique led him to areas he hadn't imagined."

Poole had been disappointed by the lack of opportunities to play forward-thinking music in Los Angeles. Though he had made few live appearances for several years, Bailey's death in late 2005 inspired him to help fill what he felt to be an artistic gap.

Poole's wife said he had been working on "just"-intonated interpretations of Irish folk songs, and that the noted film sound mixer Giovanni Di Simone had made new recordings of him.

Grady recently received an invitation to perform at a microtonal festival in Germany and was asked if he could help extend the offer to Poole.

He will be there in spirit.

Ladaw-Poole said she will take her husband's ashes back to England. A memorial service is being planned.

Rod Poole, 1962-2007

2007-05-14T22:20:00.000-07:00

This afternoon we got a phone call telling us that our friend Rod Poole was stabbed to death last night in Hollywood - I think we're still having a hard time believing that it's true. Rod moved from England to LA in 1989 and met my family shortly afterwards - I first met him when I was eleven or twelve when he was helping my grandparents around the house (amongst other odd jobs) to support himself while he was trying to work on his music. Later on, when I moved down to LA and started going out to live shows pretty much every musician I ever talked to about Rod agreed that he was one of the most amazing improvisational guitar players they had ever heard. I have a lot of really funny memories of Rod but what I remember the most about him is how impassioned he was about politics and his sense of justice, especially for those who had less (both economically and socially) in society.

NBA Player Hater Playoffs Edition: San Antonio Spurs, you're mean!

2007-05-13T09:22:00.000-07:00

On Friday the NBA League Office reviewed the tapes of Wednesday's Suns-Spurs match up and determined that no action was necessary against Bruce Bowen for sharply kicking Amare Stoudemire in his Achilles tendon. Even though Stoudemire joins a long list of players who have come out against Bowen for being a flagrantly physical player, the office just dropped it. Note I didn't use the term "allegedly" in describing the incident- in the video I have seen, Bowen fully creeps up behind Stoudemire and clearly looks down to aim his foot so he can quickly kick Stoudemire as he's shooting. Check it out:

After the incident, Stoudemire told reporters on Thursday that Bowen intentionally tried to hurt him, called Manu Ginobili out for his behaviour during the regular season, and suggested that, overall, the Spurs are a "dirty team." Here's the thing: he's right. When I'm not so bored to tears by the Spurs and I actually take the time to watch them playing basketball it's like watching high school drama practice. In a single game you can see Ginobili and others trying to draw fouls by flopping over the stage, err I mean court, more times than in a Shakespearean tragedy. The frustrating thing is that for some reason most sports critics refuse to call out the Spurs for the way they behave on court. There was some minor backlash against them last season for their questionable behavior and a few bloggers calling for the end of the patented Ginobili flop that - in trying to draw attention and amplify a fake foul, has actually hurt other players in the process.

Maddeningly, in this recent Stoudemire-Bowen incident (especially after the NBA review on Friday), most sports bloggers and writers have turned against Stoudemire calling him "young" and immature for making comments against the Spurs in the media. You know what? I disagree. The Spurs do play dirty and I'm starting to suspect that Greg Popovich was the inspiration for the Evil Sensei character in The Karate Kid.

we rescued a bird!

2007-05-11T10:02:00.000-07:00

bird! don't be afraid - you're too small for fried chicken

we will be friends bird!

but you must learn how to fly!

these are a few of my favorite things...

2007-05-10T10:37:00.000-07:00

For all my complaining about the heat and other worries the last few days, it is nice to take a moment to appreciate the ephemeral joys outside and on the court. My grandma had more orchids bloom this year than any year before and - even though I'm here only a few weeks earlier than I was last year when I took some pics - they seem more vibrant. Her flower garden in the springtime has always made me so happy - I love the way it smells right after watering every little pot and the ground (especially right by the blossoming lemon tree and the rosemary).

Speaking of vibrancy, Derek Fisher always seems to pull a clutch play (dagger even? ugh, that term is so overused) during playoffs every couple of years just to remind me of what a subtly awesome player he has been. He gets on the court last night in the middle of the third quarter - after seeing his ten-month-old daughter through dangerous surgery - and reminded the Warriors why dropping him this past season might not have been the best idea. I miss the sweatband though D. If the NBA were to have additional awards each year, D-Fish would totally get the MBTB award (Most Believable as a Teddy Bear) and Mr. Congeniality.

Out of Anger at the Lakers' Loss... I Lash Out with Crude Photoshopping

2007-04-24T22:28:00.000-07:00

Thank you Frank!

2007-04-24T20:51:00.000-07:00

Who knew vinegary hot sauce and fried chicken wings could taste so good? Like the Pavlovian dog that I am, my mouth keeps watering every time I think about it. I'm going to become a fixture at Harold's Chicken Shack #47. It turns out they had their grand opening earlier this month. I'll never forget who gave me my first wing dude.

KFC: An Innerspace Odyssey

2007-04-23T10:15:00.000-07:00

Kim reminded our brave group of five last night before we set off into the early, spring evening for the KFC on University Avenue of the following adage: Remember the lessons of the past. You gorge on KFC and you feel sick. A month later you forget and the fried chicken cravings start all over again.

We didn't listen - but as you can see from this handy diagram, the ears are not a part of the digestive system (please, no Deleuzean critiques in the comments section about the body, its organs and its systems, because I'm sure you were so just about to go there).

The Odyssey of KFC:

1:
The cornucopia of riches that KFC (or "KFCucopia") offers enters your mouth (last night this included honey bbq boneless wings; extra crispy wings and drumsticks, gravy, green beans, corn, biscuits, cole slaw, and even more gravy that you fondly refer to as "meat soda").
MOOD: Frenzied but happy.

2:
Yay Saliva! The mouth's natural lubricant to ease the bounty down. KFC gravy assists with the lubrication process.
MOOD: Still frenzied. Still happy.

3,4,5,6
Don't have much to say about you... too busy eating fried chicken.
MOOD: Smug, happy, with a beginning onset of greasiness.

7:
The hardly chewed food begins to make its way down through the espophagus. Were this an image of my esophagus last night, you would be able to detect the faint outline of a drumstick I may or may not have swallowed whole.
MOOD: Sluggish but content. Definitely feeling greasy.

8:
Once the food reaches the stomach research has shown that KFC products act much like those little capsules you had when you were a kid that expand fifty times their original size into sponge dinosaurs when you place them in water.
MOOD: A contest between remorse and sleepiness. Remorse sets in as you begin to question if the second biscuit and all of those swigs directly from the styrofoam gravy container were really necessary. As you contemplate their comedic necessity, an overpowering sense of fatigue sets in that attempts to battle the remorse. This may or may not be linked to a "forget-me-now" chemical that KFC adds to their food items - after all, who can remember their digestive unhappiness if they are asleep?

9 and 10:
Your body continues to battle the onslaught of fats, preservatives, and other noxiously delicious KFC chemicals.
MOOD: Rage. If you have resisted the food's "forget me now" sleep agent, you become filled with rage and disbelief at the Colonel. Who wears white when they're eating fried chicken anyway?

11:
It's the next day and much of the KFCucopia exits from your body.
MOOD: No comment.

welcome back!

2007-04-11T21:42:00.000-07:00

animal kingdom

2007-04-08T01:21:00.000-07:00

I would like to make it clear for the record: I was thousands of miles away when Winston the Cat's person was violated with an object of clothing for the purpose of photographing and exploiting his moronic cuteness. Sure sure, you all thought it would be me that would be the one to make Sikky or Winston wear clothing but it wasn't (btw, Easter or no, my first choice would have been a plucky little felt pirate hat - it's totally a sea theme and everyone knows cats love fish).

Meanwhile, I was exploring the Woodland Park Zoo today where I witnessed the following sad scene unfold at the gorilla exhibit:

Although it's pretty obvious what is going on in the picture sequence above, let me just break it down for you:
[Frame 1]: In a moment hearkening back to the rock giant Biter in The Neverending Story, the gorilla looks down at his hands that clutch nothing and he considers all that he has lost and stands to lose during his stay at the Woodland Park Zoo.
[Frame 2]: The gorilla vomits into his hands.
[Frame 3]: The gorilla eats his own vomit. This went on for about fifteen minutes. Hey - at least it drove most of the kids away from the exhibit.
[Frame 4]: This was taken after a heart-to-heart I had with the gorilla and presented him with a copy of Chicken Soup for the Primate Soul. Yet another life transformed by a metaphorical hot dose of restorative broth.

...

2007-04-06T18:32:00.000-07:00

U Suck LA

2007-03-31T20:29:00.000-07:00

Another year of blowing it.

Seattle Seafood Watch '07

2007-03-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

When I arrived Wednesday, my brother told me it marked the first day of sunshine in over a month - I'm hoping it keeps up because yesterday was sunny, in the 60s, and just beautiful. He lives north of downtown in Magnolia with a view of Puget Sound in the distance from the windows. There are flowers blooming all over the city and the flowering trees (especially on the UW campus) are complex and beautiful.

I'm currently devising a seafoodometer that will accurately reflect the amount of fresh seafood I consume while I'm here. I made great progress yesterday when I had a spicy tuna roll at Pike's Market (and took a picture of the view) and then happened upon the beginning of an oyster happy hour (shucked oysters, 50 cents each!) at a restaurant on the waterfront. Half a dozen later, I realized I may have to return there every weekday at three while I'm here.

Late Breaking News: Tony Parker is a Serious Douche

2007-03-26T21:41:00.000-07:00

Wow. This video has every component that makes a horrible rap video:

Includes talking about yourself in the third person: "Tony P." rapping about what a badass NBA basketball star he is (I think - it's in French, okay?) - can't you hire someone else to talk about how cool you are?
Uses little kid to rap with you: Tony P. raps and dances with a little kid in a blacklight room, featuring 80s-style neon streaks of light and glowsticks
Features skanky women dancers: cheerleaders, who also live in Tony P's blacklight kingdom
Features your current girlfriend: Tony P. hooks up with Eva Longoria who plays "Tony P's pole-dancer #2"
Features "whisper rapping": this is not sexy, okay? It's just not.

youtube music procrastinatastic

2007-03-26T19:57:00.000-07:00

So last October I went to two of the most magical concerts ever - I got to see Beirut and Broken Social Scene within a couple of weeks of each other and I still think about both nights to this day. The Beirut clip contains their cover of "Brazil," which was already an awesome song but their orchestration is really fun and Zach Condon's voice is perfection. The BSS clip is their video for "Fire Eye'd Boy," which is pretty funny and features a cameo from one of the dudes from Rush!

Bruin Fandom

2007-03-25T11:09:00.000-07:00

So UCLA won last night over Kansas in a really exciting game to watch - Kansas was so strong during the first half but something just happened to the Jayhawks during the second half. Their fast game turned sloppy and then Arron Afflalo ignited.

Rooting for UCLA around here isn't that easy though - as most of my friends following the tournament don't want them to win. It is kind of weird being a UCLA and a Lakers fan living in the Midwest. Okay, it's weird being a Lakers fan period. Both teams have a lot of funding and long histories of success that include eras where they just kept winning, so it's not like I'm rooting for the underdogs. In fact, with the case of the Lakers, I'm rooting for a team filled with inflated egos (P.J. and Kobe being the worst and the only two left over from the years when it was so much fun to watch the Lakers play) that little resembles the days when I would get so excited to see Robert Horry, D. Fish, Rick Fox, Shaq, and Kobe work together (but not Devean George!). I guess what I'm wondering though, is what makes UCLA so hated? Is it because they will often be overrated in the media, just like Duke or UNC? I just don't get it. The bruin mascot is so cuddly.

- Basketball Martha

No More Real Animals Bryan

2007-03-22T11:57:00.000-07:00

I'm gearing up for another NCAA weekend, including a big game tonight (UCLA against Pitt) and quite possibly one of the most hated matchups I could ever possibly imagine (USC/North Carolina). While it is easy for me to get caught up with my poorly performing bracket (dude, Oral Roberts, wtf happened?!? And Winthrop? You couldn't keep going?), I want to take a moment to say something to Wisconsin man, Bryan James Hathaway.

Dude: please stop boning down with dead animals.

First you kill a horse so you could throw it in and then you see a deer in a ditch and think... "damn, I want to hit that." No. No. No. Can't you just buy a bedroom slipper and pretend like it's a real animal?

The Supreme Court Talked About Bong Hits Today

2007-03-19T09:54:00.000-07:00

Somewhere I hope tape surfaces of Scalia actually saying "bong hit"... Today the Supreme Court heard arguments for the 2002 case, Morse v. Frederick, where a student (Joseph Frederick) was suspended for displaying a "Bong Hits 4 Jesus" banner during the running of the Olympic Torch in Juneau. Although not on school property at the time, the school claimed Frederick displayed the banner during a school-sanctioned event. Interestingly, dark underlord Kenneth Starr filed the appeal for the Juneau school board (and is working pro bono) in the interest of staying in the spotlight, err I mean upholding anti-drug school policies.

The Most Amazing Thing I Have Ever Seen

2007-03-13T23:39:00.000-07:00

As one respondent on youtube astutely writes: "This clip has it all: the knife lick, the broken arm hand-spring, "keep an eye out". Clearly, this sequence is the pinnacle of all human endeavor. I was going to kill myself until I saw this. Now I feel as though I have been given a renewed lease on life. If I ever have a son, I will name him Stingray."

The Bruins will Pwnzor! My bracket methodology.

2007-03-12T11:12:00.000-07:00

So last year a lot of my friends thought I was crazy when I predicted the Bruins would go all the way to the final game. But they did and I attribute it to the methodology I employ while creating an NCAA bracket. When crafting my bracket, I make sure that I don't let the team's playing record, past tournament experience, coach's history, or considerations of individual player's basketball skill influence the choices I make. Frankly, I just have not been persuaded that any of those factors directly relate to winning a game, let alone an NCAA tournament. Instead, I base all of my basketball predictions on an index I calculate using the following variables:

1) Team is from Los Angeles or the Tidewater region of Virginia
2) Number of players on the team who formerly played for a Los Angeles or Tidewater team (for NCAA play, this may include attendance at a Los Angeles or Tidewater area high school)
3) Number of players on the team I think are cute (offset by number of players on a team that are fugly or have a stupid and/or gimmicky appearance [including hairstyle, donning of various "sleeves," tattoos, etc.])
4) Results of one spin on the WWUD? (What would a unicorn do?) behavior prediction device. In this process, I chant the team's name during the spin. So, for example, this year while chanting "UCLA Bruins," the WWUD? predictor showed that, if the Bruins were in fact unicorns, they would "Impale Evil Things." This suggests in the Final Four rematch between UCLA and Florida, Bruin Arron Afflalo (from a Compton-area high school I might add) will slam Joakim Noah and his prep school background into the court (Noah loses big in the gimmicky appearance department). Meanwhile, while chanting "Duke Devils," the WWUD? predictor showed that, if the Devils were in fact unicorns, they would "pose on a windy cliff." In other words - they're showboat pussies that have gotten by on the reputation of their airbag coach and school's history for far too long. So sorry North Carolina, while you prance through waterfalls, Ohio State is going to majestically gallop over your ass. For my full bracket, check out "Webber 1" at espn.com - I'm in the UCLA ~ All the Way! - 13 Group. More brackets to follow, depending on the full recovery of my WWUD? predictor uni-arrow (the rainbow horn got a little smeary when I was eating my Peanut Butter Bumpers cereal too close to it).

Gaius Baltar, Blue-Balled Genius

2007-03-09T22:45:00.000-08:00

So I'm almost done with the first season of Battlestar Galactica and it keeps getting better and better thanks to my favorite character, Gaius Baltar. He is one of the best fictive examples of an unreliable narrator because he's just so funny. Dude walks around like a bumbling idiot, dryhumping the air around him and people just keep giving him more responsibilities. Remind you of anyone? I could say a lot more about the genius that is the character, Gaius Baltar, but I don't want to reveal any spoilers. All I'm saying is - imagine yourself in his overstrained trousers for one minute and try to understand. If you think your work is tough, try staying focused enough to "help" prevent the extinction of the human race while a whorelon (thanks to M for coining the genius term) gives you a j bonedawg every minute you're awake.

Scooter's Ass in Jeopardy

2007-03-06T21:30:00.000-08:00

The verdict came in today - Scooter Libby was convicted of four counts of obstruction, perjury, and lying to the FBI over the whole 2003 Valerie Plame leak. It is likely he probably won't spend any real time in jail (who knows, Bush may even pardon him). Someone added a hilarious addition to wikipedia today (see image; later taken down) guaranteeing the protection of his ass for "20,000,000 million dollars and three cigarettes" (can cigarettes even be wired to a bank account?). I suspect ol' Scooter may be able to hold his own in prison though... considering he authored the novel, The Apprentice, that includes a scene where a caged young girl is forced to have sex with a bear so she can learn how to become a prostitute.

You are so Wonderful... it's nice to see you again

2007-03-06T19:05:00.000-08:00

Pizza Vending Machine... Beat That Cylons!

2007-02-28T21:56:00.000-08:00

I've been watching a lot of Battlestar Galactica lately and a big issue on the show - now that the cylons have the capability of possessing materially human bodies (with the only apparent difference being they possess spinal cords that pulsate red when they "bone down") - is what really separates humans from cylons. Although cylons have incredibly poor taste in clothing (the males dress like used car salesmen and the women like futuristic slatterns) even some humans exhibit the same poor taste in attire.

What separates us from the cylons, my friends, is that our species possesses the genius to produce the pizza vending machine. This Wonder Pizza vending machine was produced in Torino Italy which means that it must be, like, totally authentic. Ninety seconds and five dollars later you can get your hands on a piping hot pizza - with your choice of crust crispness and three different toppings. Now if we could only create a hotdog vending machine that pops out a Nathan's kosher all-beef on a toasted bun with mustard, relish, and gently warmed sauerkraut, then we would be masters of the universe.

Awwww........

2007-02-28T17:08:00.000-08:00

My friend, the Ecologist

2007-02-27T17:22:00.000-08:00

I just received word last night from one of my oldest friends (old as in, we've been friends for 12 years, not as in she's ancient, although she will ALWAYS be 9 months older than me!) that not only was she accepted into UCLA's Geography Phd program, but that she received an awesome four-year fellowship to conduct research with the Jordana Basin Long Term Ecological Research program. She will get to spend a portion of the next four years in the northern Chihuahuan Desert where the program examines "desertification dynamics" - or how deserts actively happen and exist. The group looks at how space, time, history, "transport vectors" and "environmental drivers" interact with structures of vegetation to determine "ecosystem dynamics." I'm so happy for her and definitely a little jealous (having read a sufficient amount of Mike Davis and had one too many daydreams about different educational directions I could have followed) - I suppose I'll have to be satisfied with getting to visit her in the New Mexico desert, where we will eat a bunch of peyote buttons and go on a transcendent spirit quest like the ones all of my favorite characters from Lost get to go on all the time.

NBA All Haters Game 2007

2007-02-18T15:45:00.000-08:00

Hi, you may not recognize me because I haven't done anything worthwhile in the ten seasons I have been playing professional basketball for the NBA. My name is Scot Pollard and I'm this year's Center for the NBA Player Haters Game. The only thing I actually get press coverage for is my changing hair (see the wikipedia bio on me for the special section on my "hairstyles") because for some reason, being a little bitch ( I learned it from Chris Webber when we played together!) by feigning back spasms in the middle of games and averaging 0.9 PPG this year with the Cavs doesn't seem to nab the headlines. My awesome 'dos sure do! Get it: 'dos do. Kind of like doo doo. You know, as in my playing style is doo doo. I was Vlade Divac's backup center and comfort boy when I played for the Sacto Kings a few years back. That was an honor man - because I can think of only maybe twenty-nine better starting centers that I could have backed up than Divac. As center for the team this year, I get to introduce the rest of the team.

Don't let his sweet, sweet Valentine's Day wishes fool you: this year's power forward, Zach Randolph has done so much to deserve to be hated. Sure, he has been averaging 24 PPG this year with Portland, but that's mostly because he doesn't know how to pass the ball. Passing other things (like joints and obscene gestures), on the other hand, he is much more adept at. Most people hate Randolph for garnering a 5 year, $73.3 million dollar contract with the Blazers since he is such a one-dimensional player. But at least he's a charmer off the court right? Oh yeah, just ask the witnesses alleging that Randolph tried to intimidate them when they were going to testify against Blazer Qyntel Woods for fighting pitbulls. Nice.

Hey look everyone, here comes Wally tumbling down the court like the dickweed that he is! That's right, this year's small forward is none other than Wally Szcerbiak. You can begin to understand the inflated ego and hubris that is Wally if you check out his ridiculous website. Upon reading it your first thought might be: wow, this guy has a great sense of humor! And then you realize: oh wait, he's serious and living quite possibly one of the most humorless and hateful existences you have ever encountered. My favorite page is the quotes page where Wally insists repeatedly that he derives great pleasure from eating egg whites, working out, looking fit, and having a wife who also works out and looks fit. But it's truly in the "quotes about Wally" section where this all-hater shines. One of Wally's managers observed after Wally invited scouts and coaches to a private workout: "He put on a flawless display. His workout would have just about killed any of the other top draft prospects, and the people watching him knew it. When he tossed aside his shirt, I literally heard gasps." Wow. If anyone is going to win the "Most Likely to Be Patrick Bateman" award this year, my bets are on Wally.

Oh look at that Gilbert Arenas - he's so crazy! No really, I mean it: HE'S CRAZY. He is actually serving double duty this year, as he got voted into the All Star East Team this year with 1,454,166 actual votes (unlike the 2004 All Star game when he tried to vote himself into it, trading a pair of shoes and a jersey for a box of ballots). His wikipedia bio gives you the scoop on all of the hilarious hijinx he likes to play both on and off the court when he's not too busy hogging the ball - they call it "Gilbertology" (otherwise known as the study of a pro basketball player who is batshit crazy). My favorite anecdotes are from his early days with the Warriors when he took a shower at halftime in full uniform or when he put baby powder on donuts he delivered to the team. Oh that Gilbert! His favorite things to do while on the road is to eat 12 cheeseburgers in one day or hole himself up in his hotel room and order items off the internet, including a colon cleanser (hey G - you think the two might be related?). You can't make this shit up!

Rounding out the Haters squad as point guard is Jason Kidd, raising a fist (once again) in this inspiring photo montage. Apparently his hand naturally rests in that position and often on other people - just ask his wife Joumana. Oh that couple! This January Jason filed for divorce citing "extreme cruelty" during the relationship. In her countersuit, Joumana filed for the same reasons and recounted countless moments of abuse, including the time Jason threw a cookie into her face, "frisbee-style." Watch out for that ultimate chocolate chip! (groan) You better update your muy suave website Jason - because as of today, it still claims you're a "doting husband" to your wife Joumana. Although he may be a technically solid player, Kidd brings his nasty energy on and off the court. H-A-T-E-D...

And now is the time to announce the only man capable of coaching such a squad of egotastic, sociopaths... none other than:
Cuts Thomas. Only a hater of his magnitude can coach such a hated squad. He has been hating as far back as 1985 when he got jealous of relative newcomer, Michael Jordan, for stealing attention from him at the All Stars game. Knowing his penchant for poor trades with the Knicks (cough cough Jerome James, Stephen Marbury, et al), he probably would pay top dollar for someone who plays as poorly as I do. Given this year to turn around the Knicks after Larry Brown was fired, what does Cuts do? Allegedly instigate the Knicks-Nugs brawl by ordering Mardy Collins to commit a hard foul when it was clear the Knicks were going to lose (can't you just picture him as the evil Sensei in the Karate Kid: "Sweep the Leg Mardy"). For more insightful analysis on Cuts, check out C's blog. Hehehehe, we even picked the same photo of Cuts in his trademark douchneck sweater!

Well it's time for me to get my hair done for the game!

- Scot

* Post not actually written by Scot Pollard.

Vote Here for the NBA All Haters Game

2007-02-11T14:51:00.000-08:00

Although late last night I shrieked into a four-degree Chicago night, "Congress Theatre, by the power of Graceskull,I will get thee! I will expose thee in the mighty blogosphere," I am still too angry at that shithole to write about it. Instead, I want to acknowledge that I have been grossly negligent in my NBA Player Hater coverage. The main reason? I no longer have cable tv and so far, a basketball league has not formed in Animal Crossing: Wild World (the alternate reality in which my heart truly belongs) for me to cover.

Inspired the other night by one of the funniest and adept-at-cleverly-hating people I know (besides myself of course), I have decided to make up for my negligence by presenting to all of you in my mighty blogosphere, an All-Haters lineup. Between now and Saturday, February 17 (the date of the actual NBA All Stars Game), I'm taking nominations for players to belong on the most-hated NBA lineup of 2007. On that day I will reveal to you the most reviled combination of point guard, shooting guard, small forward, power forward, and center that I can come up with, complete with fugly pictures and criticism completely unrelated to actual basketball playing skills. Let the nominations begin...
I have a fugly assistant waiting patiently by his computer to compile your nominations. You can also find him on AIM under the name "hedosloth69."

Where Do Groundhogs Come From?

2007-02-04T13:50:00.000-08:00

I was invited to a Groundhog's Day Party this weekend where attendees were required to make some sort of "groundhog art" that honors the plucky little creature that mis-predicts the weather for us each February 2nd. I teamed up with two of my friends from my program to create the following educational video, "Where Do Groundhogs Come From?"

It's the End of an Era: Lavar Burton Leaves Reading Rainbow

2007-01-30T22:51:00.000-08:00

So, one of my favorite Halloween memories - and quite arguably one of the most magical moments of my life - is from my senior year in high school. My friend Lorna and I decided to go trick-or-treating despite our advanced age. We chose a relatively upscale neighborhood in the San Fernando Valley, reasoning the quality of the treats would reflect the socioeconomic status of the neighborhood's inhabitants. We also decided to wear the dumbest costumes ever: I wore an orange, red, and yellow top I knit myself that made me look kind of like a slutty lifesaver and Lorna wore an afro wig. What can I say? We were pretty stupid (I blame it on peer pressure). After an hour or so of nasty comments about how we were too old to be trick-or-treating we rang the bell to a house and Lavar Burton wearing a pirate costume answered the door - I couldn't believe it. After he "yarred" at us in his best pirate accent, I shrieked, "oh my god! I love Reading Rainbow" and then began to sing the Reading Rainbow theme song (you know: "butterfly in the sky, I can go twice as high, take a look, it's in a book"... etc.). And you know what? He started singing with me.

That, my friends, is class.

After producing and hosting the show for twenty years, Burton has announced he is leaving Reading Rainbow because a lame eductional services company (the same people who own Sylvan Learning Center and Hooked on Phonics) bought production rights for the show. Read more here about how awesome Burton is for not selling out and how reading has inspired him throughout his life.

Southern Indiana Odyssey

2007-01-28T13:16:00.000-08:00

Just returned from an overnight in Southern Indiana with Terra to meet her two-week-old niece, Priscilla. Babies that young are pretty cool: they pretty much just sleep and occasionally make really funny noises (she wet-bunted on Terra and me at least five times while we were there! I know it sounds gross but it is pretty hilarious to have a seven-pound glowworm bunt on you while you're holding it). Granted, she doesn't do as much as my Nintendog (even when I tried to prompt her with my stylus), but she was really warm and sweet.
The trip was also pretty cool because I bought a game for my DS that finally convinced Terra they are actually fun to play with (thank you Bust-A-Move and your bubble-puzzle fun for convincing one of the last holdouts! on a related note, I've definitely developed "DS elbow") Not cool about Southern Indiana? The shit-disturbers in the neighborhood even go out in incredibly cold temperatures: my car got egged! WTF?

I've sunk to a new low...

2007-01-23T10:58:00.000-08:00

So my large blog readership (hi Dad) has probably been wondering why I haven't been posting a lot lately. I'd like to say it's because, now that I'm home from vacation, I've really thrown myself into my studies. Nope. Today, the class I'm auditing got cancelled at the last minute (eeps - no matter that I woke up early to do the 160 pages of reading for it) so I finally got to return to the magical kingdom that is Animal Crossing: Wild World. What can I say? Many of my friends are starting to worry about my obsession with it - threatening violence if I mention once more what Lobo the wolf said to me about the way I smell or my thoughts on why more men should wear onesies.

Today I sunk to a pretty new low though - I actually started looking up cheats for the game. What can I say? I'm having a hard time catching bugs (it's winter and I refuse to use the time travel cheat) and I was looking for advice. Lucky the mummy dog wanted to have a bug competition with me, and I felt inadequate. The cheats-site made me realize there are two kinds of cheats: the cheats for people who really love the game and the cheats for people who just want to make fast money. I refuse to be interested in the latter... at least for now (hey, I'm anxious for my Nookway to turn into a Nookingtons, but I'm going to try to be patient).

The cheats for people who love the game totally crack me up - I can totally change my town tune to "Wake Me Up When September Ends" by Green Day if I wanted to (narf! Instead, I changed it to "Smoke on the Water" by Deep Purple, thanks to Pug Gurl). Some of these so-called cheats just crack me up. Like dogstar 13, who clearly possesses a fetish for bureaucracy:

See The Mayor on a normal day!
Want to see Tortimer the Mayor on a day when he isn't walking outside? Then go to the Town Hall, and talk to Pelly at the green window. When the camera zooms down to a close up, you'll be able to see a familiar figure working in the background!

What a weirdo! I mean, Tortimer the Mayor isn't even cute!

Insomnia...

2007-01-22T19:08:00.000-08:00

Since I've been back home I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping (and no, not because I've been too busy playing on my DS to schedule sleep time). It seems that every other or every third night I am either entirely capable of falling asleep for more than an hour or so at a time or else my sleep quality is so poor I don't seem to be getting all the stage 4 or "delta sleep" that I need. Needless to say, lack of sleep makes me feel like a walking idiot zombie. If you're having trouble sleeping, you may consider frightening yourself by reading wikipedia's entry on insomnia - it could convince you that you're suffering from hypomania or at least that you practice poor sleep hygiene (yes, there is such a thing).

Apparently, Even Pandas Have Standards

2007-01-18T22:24:00.000-08:00

Male panda gets too fat for sex, keepers say
Female Lin Hui ‘no longer comfortable’ mating with obese Chuang Chuang

By Sutin Wannabovorn BANGKOK, Thailand -

Chuang Chuang the Panda is just too heavy to have sex. Thai authorities have put him on a strict diet as part of a long-running campaign to get him to mate with female partner Lin Hui at the Chiang Mai Zoo in northern Thailand. “Chuang Chuang is gaining weight too fast and we found Lin Hui is no longer comfortable with having sex with him,” said the zoo’s chief veterinarian, Kanika Limtrakul, adding that Chuang Chuang weighed 331 pounds while Lin Hui is only 253 pounds. As a result, zoo authorities are cutting out bamboo shoots in the daily meal for Chuang Chuang and giving the obese bear only bamboo leaves, Kanika said. The diet plan is the latest in an unsuccessful and often strange campaign by zoo officials to get the two bears to mate. They have held a mock wedding, announced plans to separate the two to spark a little romance and even talked of introducing panda porn — videos of other pandas mating — to get the pair in the mood. There are as few as 1,600 giant pandas in the mountain forests of central China, according to the zoo. An additional 120 are in Chinese breeding facilities and zoos, and about 20 live in zoos outside China. Pandas are threatened by loss of habitat, poaching and a low reproduction rate. Females in the wild normally have a cub once every two to three years.

----- Thanks to E.Z. for forwarding me the article, because when she saw "panda porn" she thought of me. It's nice to be reminded that at moments, your friends really do get you.

...

2007-01-14T09:08:00.000-08:00

I know I'm related to chimpanzees... Proof of Evolution!

2007-01-13T10:13:00.000-08:00

As you can see in the images below (just to clear up any confusion - I'm pictured on the left, whereas the chimpanzee is pictured on the right) - when faced with scrambling over rough terrain, humans reject a bipedal stance and assume the quadrupedal stance characteristic of their evolutionary relative, the chimpanzee. Comparison shots of me and chimps poo-flinging and cigarette-smoking are forthcoming.

Leo Carillo Tide Pools

2007-01-09T21:27:00.000-08:00

I visited my favorite beach, Leo Carillo, today during its low tide at sunset. In the largest pool I saw two hermit crabs, and several starfish bunched up together, or "spooning" as some tide poolers call it. I also put my finger on the creature pictured in the lower right image - I think it's some kind of sea urchin. It was really smushy and it bunched up into itself when I put my finger on it. Afterwards I was convinced my fingertip felt tingly, but I think I was just imagining it. If anyone can identify the name for the sea friend I made today, I will send you a check for $3.

Scenic Polaroids

2007-01-07T18:07:00.000-08:00

I've been taking a lot of Polaroids on my trip but I have wanted to focus on subjects that seem unlikely for the genre of the Polaroid (typical of the genre? head shots and children crawling on Santa Claus). Also, I've been taking series of the same subject to view them together. Working with a Polaroid camera has been challenging since I'm accustomed to using a digital camera - acquainting myself with distance and lighting requirements has certainly led to some wasted film. Below is a digital image of three pictures I took of a stretch of beach off the PCH (between Zuma and El Matador).

What did people do before digital cameras when they wanted to take subversive or illegal images? They took polaroids. There is something about the autonomy in processing that is really empowering and conducive for subversion. There is also something about their singularity and lack of reproducibility that makes me a little awed and wistful.

Merry Armenian Christmas... NBA Player Hater Saturday: Tony Parker Makes Me Want to Narf

2007-01-06T17:52:00.000-08:00

...

2007-01-05T23:05:00.000-08:00

Back on the Grid... Happy New Year

2007-01-05T01:21:00.000-08:00

NBA Player Hater Saturday: Jordan "Make a Wish" Farmar

2006-12-30T09:05:00.000-08:00

Mr. MHHS nominated the hated rookie player of the year... the award goes to Jordan Farmer. In part because the Lakers blew it last night in their triple overtime game against the Charlotte Bobcats, but mostly because he is physical-defect fugly. Perhaps the picture to the left, where Farmar is apparently pointing off in the distance to nothing while pretending to extrude a basketball out of his ass and tasting the air with outstretched tongue clears up any questions.

Happy New Year Jordan! Remember: try not to drink too much, as alcohol can have irrevocable effects on people's lives (as Mr. MHHS was quick to point out with me in the case of Farmar).

I No Longer Care That I Am Sick...

2006-12-25T00:56:00.000-08:00

Update: Currently playing Animal Crossing: Wildworld
Anticipating: April 2007 Release of The Settlers

merry christmas

2006-12-24T22:13:00.000-08:00

This year for Christmas I got the stomach flu - it's a wonderful present that arrived early and when it seemed like it was going away, playfully returned when I tried to eat solid food to remind me that I do, in fact, love projectile narfing at four in the morning and then sobbing as I wipe up what didn't make it into the toilet. Who knew that what I needed most on Christmas would be disinfectant? And I'm not bitter in the least that, as my entire family feasted like locusts on a turkey dinner with all the trimmings, I got to eat a delightfully jiggly bowl of Jello. Jello looks really cool, you know? I mean, have you ever really looked at Jello? It's like taking a trip into a crystal palace, but one that moves.

What I've really come to realize though, the neatest thing about stomach flu is that for at least the next week or so, I'm going to be so paranoid about anything that I eat because who knows what's going to happen to it when it hits my intestinal track. That really makes you appreciate the mystery of life, you know what I mean? And I think that's what Christmas is really all about.

NBA Player Hater Saturday: A.I.

2006-12-23T21:48:00.000-08:00

I've been watching a lot of basketball in the last 24 hours or so: I caught most of the Lakers/Nets game last night, saw UCLA massacre Michigan this morning (I'm biased of course, but the Bruins are looking really tight this year), and the Clippers beat Houston tonight (although most likely because Yao got injured early in the game - he broke a bone in his knee and will be out for at least six weeks). I've watched with especial disgust over the past couple of weeks about the whole Allen Iverson trade talk. I think what grosses me out the most is the way everyone goes on about him and the way Iverson goes on about himself. Where did the nickname "The Answer" come from anyway? The last couple years he just got worse and worse in terms of hubris (his rap album under the name of Jewels anyone? urinating in public? acting out on the 76ers with Chris Webber? sigh...).

Maybe I should go easier on him - we actually grew up in the same town in Virginia. OH wait, but I actually turned out to be a nice person. Anyway, if anyone has any legitimate, basketball related reasons to hate on Iverson, you can certainly help my specious argument out...

It Fucking Got Me

2006-12-21T12:58:00.000-08:00

I evaded it in Urbana, but when my uncle couldn't pick me up at the airport because he had the stomach flu and I knew we were to share the same bathroom and kitchen that my luck had run out. I feel like dying right now.

Having trouble sitting up. I fucking hate this.

I Would So Eat This...

2006-12-20T21:41:00.000-08:00

December 19, 2006 / December 19, 1994

2006-12-19T21:28:00.000-08:00

So I arrived to my grandparents house in Sherman Oaks (in the San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles) today and will be here for the next three weeks or so. Every time I come back, I usually go through the stuff I have stored here over the years : there are a lot of pictures, letters, schoolwork, and writing I saved over time. This includes several diaries I kept - I thought it would be neat to match up a day from the past with the current date - while not always the most riveting reading (at least not this entry - but I can really emote in other ones!), it is fun to crack up about the doofy stuff I use to think about. On December 19, 1994 I had just arrived to my grandparents house in Sherman Oaks too (at the time I was living in Sonoma with my other grandparents but my brother had already lived down here for two years). I was a freshman in high school and basically a dork who loved eating junk food and watching 3-2-1 Contact - including one of my favorite segments, Mathnet!
December 19, 1994:
I arrived in LaLaLand today and at the moment puking up Gummy Worms... well not really puking. Woke up at 7 (I got about 6.25 hours of sleep), airport, etc. We came to the house and lounged around, then Frank and I went to the supermarket to get snacks for throughout the week - he can drive now!!! When we were at the market, I saw a celebrity... the guy from Mathnet. Not exactly my favorite person in the world, but pretty cool. I think I'll get hair dye and dye my hair black like Mia Wallace, or maybe red. I don't know... I'll ask Frank to help me with it. So things are pretty good. We had Chinese food for dinner.

I Just Broke Up With My Cable Box

2006-12-18T14:06:00.000-08:00

I kicked it out at 12:21 PM (CST) - it only took two cables and one mere power cord to bring a year and a half of procrastinatory joy to its end. What can I say? It just didn't work out - at first it seemed like we had so many of the same interests that reinforced the conception I held of myself before the box moved in. We would giggle at the Daily Show every midnight and watch CNN Headline News as I furrowed my brow and crunched on cereal, but then the box tried to change me...One day I'm watching Chappelle Show reruns and the next day, all of a sudden it's 7pm, I haven't gotten dressed and I'm watching a Real World marathon on MTV and recounting to my friends that I can't believe that Jen slept with Alex after he and Colie made out the night before. Pretty soon, I know what time the hour block of Golden Girls comes on Lifetime television for women and I start planning my work around it. Did I mention the countless meals I consumed on the floor of my apartment as I stared raptly up at my television screen? The cable box turned me into this sick person that I didn't even recognize.

I gave the box a great last day - we watched the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy on TNT (now that's a commitment, okay?). And finally, a really awesomely bad horror movie with quite possibly one of the funniest demonic possession/cunnilingus/chainsaw scenes I have ever seen (okay, the only one, but still, it was pretty funny).

The World Waits With Baited Breath Wondering... What Will Happen to Melo?

2006-12-17T14:17:00.000-08:00

Okay, maybe I'm just wondering what is going to happen to Carmelo Anthony after the brawl between the Nuggets and the Knicks last night (thanks to Mr. MHHS for texting me with the news). Marty Burns (sportsillustrated online blogger) suspects a 5 to 10 game suspension, but also insists in his column today:

"In the end, Anthony will be the one hurt the most by Saturday's bad scene. The fourth-year forward was just starting to repair an image that had been somewhat tarnished by an earlier pot bust in his NBA career (he claimed it belonged to a friend) as well as an appearance he had made in a drug dealer's video. He not only was leading the league in scoring this season, but he had earned praise from Karl and Team USA coach Mike Krzyzewski for his leadership and overall play."

NBA Player-Hater Saturday: Chris Kaman, King of the Fuglies

2006-12-16T15:50:00.000-08:00

With two weeks left of 2006, it's that time to start thinking about the top moments of the year... you know the moments that you carry with you beyond a mere year and remember for a lifetime. Where were you on April 29, 2006?

That's right, Kaman got grabbed in the roundies by Reggie Evans.

His interview in the clip is absolutely incoherent. That may be because, according to the wikipedia article on Kaman, he suffers from ADHD and "as a child he used to tear shingles off of neighbors' rooftops." Ummm, that's not frightening behavior that portends he may end up serially killing human beings later in life or anything. Did I mention the real reason I am hating on him? Because he is cornea-searing fugly. Pretty shallow - and I admit has nothing to do with his basketball-playing skills at all - but how would you feel running into this guy in a dark alley?

Nba.com's bio on Kaman reports his favorite TV show is Friends and that his hobbies include working on cars and singing. Wow, someone please restrain me from wanting to rub my entire body over his pasty white skin and suspiciously ginger hair just to get him to sing for me. I am DYING to know what songs are his favorite at karaoke (bonus points for hilarious guesses in the comments section). He also "takes time each holiday season to go shopping for toys with children from Camp Ronald McDonald." I suspect each year several of the children mistake Kaman to be Ronald's older, drug-addicted, deadbeat brother Fugald.

I Would Totally Wear This T-Shirt Because Pwnage is a Hunger...

2006-12-15T16:08:00.000-08:00

Chicken Maniaco... I Am Coming to Get You

2006-12-14T11:40:00.000-08:00

So I am crazy about living in Urbana, but as I realize I will be leaving in a few days, I have to admit I really start thinking about what it is I miss the most about LA.

I'm talking about you Dino's Burger, and your El Maniaco chicken plate. When I first met you, your fiery red half-chicken served atop a bed of french fries doused with a Greek marinade I can only describe as liquid crack, accompanied with a thimble of chilly cole slaw was only $3.50. Times change and I hear you cost $4.50 now. You are so worth it. I will see you at the corner of Pico and Berendo next week.

My other favorite reasons for returning?
- Zankou Chicken (Armenians doing Lebanese)
- Papa Christo's (Greek)
- Pho 79 (Vietnamese)
- In-n-Out Burger (American)
- oh yeah, and my family! (Armenian Mongrel)

Paperman

2006-12-13T19:14:00.000-08:00

More from the Japanese fashion world: this is the Paperman hat. Since I can't read Japanese, I'm not exactly sure why this hat exists or who would actually buy it. Some guesses:

- Fecal Freaks
- Significant Others or Partners of Fecal Freaks (known as "Fecal Friends")
- People who suffer from the phobia of running out of toilet paper but not the phobia of looking ridiculous.
- Sociopaths, who may also be fecal freaks, who have so much money they would actually hire someone to be a human toiletpaper dispenser.
Any guesses?

Eco-Trashy Fashion: A Rant About Plastic Bags

2006-12-12T19:34:00.000-08:00

Triumph International Japan has done it again - over the past ten years they have created several eco-themed bras made from recycled polyester fiber (the fibers come from plastic bottles). The latest is by far my favorite - a padded bra that transforms into a shopping bag:

Step 1: don a slutty look on your face
Step 2: remove your bra
Step 3: remove the padding (it becomes the body of the shopping bag)
Step 4: assemble bag
Step 5: replace slutty look on face with the self-satisfied smug of someone who is helping the environment.

Although Triumph has decided not to sell the bras, they are advertising them to raise awareness for the Containers and Packaging Recycling Law that was revised this June in Japan. In a nutshell, plastic shopping bags suck and unnecessarily so. 15 billion bags take one tanker of oil to produce and at least 30% of those are thrown away without reuse. Unless suffocating babies with them and feeding them to the hundreds of thousands of sea turtles, whales, and other marine animals who die each year from ingesting them counts as reuse. The EPA estimates about 500 billion to 1 trillion bags are used each year - the U.S. uses about 380 billion so we suck the most. U.S.A! U.S.A!

Imagined FanFiction...

2006-12-11T15:04:00.000-08:00

So I am sooo into Top Chef that usually by Monday I start getting antsy for the next episode. Especially now that I found out the host for the show is none other than Salmon Rushdie's wife - strange world huh? I know that fanfiction is usually reserved for programs or movies that are far more embedded in our ummm "cultural imaginary" and far less ephemeral than Top Chef, but I present to you my fan fiction between contestant Marcel and head judge, Chef Tom Calickio (look, I know I am not spelling it right, okay?):

Chef Tom Calickio: Marcel, you've crafted this foam of giraffe confit with grated rhubarb and a whisper of saffron into a shape that resembles your hair.

Marcel: Yes, I have. I call it "Wolverine Junior."

Chef Calickio: But to what end Marcel? To what end? And this refresher on the plate that makes up the duo... can you tell me about it and the thought behind it?

Marcel: I call the duo "If the X-Men Were Translated into a Pretentious Food Dish" and the refresher is made from swiss chard, prickly pear, and the menstrual fluid of a small doe, hereafer referred to as "Juice-alee." You know... like Jubilee but ummm not a girl superhero, rather a refresher.

Chef Calickio: And the virtue in that Marcel, the virtue?!?

Marcel: Sigh... the X-Men were all about virtue Chef.

Imagined Websites...

2006-12-10T21:55:00.000-08:00

So today on one of my procrastinatory web journeys, I visited the site deadoralive.com - a site solely devoted to helping you determine if the famous or semi-famous person you are thinking of is living or not. It got me thinking about a website I would love to see:

deadinsideoralive.com
At the website for Dead Inside or Alive, you enter a name to determine if that person is dead inside or not. Let's give it a try:

Dick Cheney:
Is there any doubt? DEAD INSIDE

Bob Dylan: Once ALIVE, but DIED INSIDE sometime in the 1990s, or right around when this picture was taken.

Carrot Top:
Not actually human, so not eligible to be considered
alive or dead inside.

Mar:
Hmmm, this is a tough one, but I'm going to have
to say ALIVE (the jazz hands are a sure indication, yes?)

If you're interested in purchasing the domain name for my imaginary site or if you have suggestions for additional entries, please send a self-addressed, stamped envelope to "Comments" at modal14.blogspot.com.

It's one of those days...

2006-12-10T13:56:00.000-08:00

NBA Player Hater Saturday: Tim Duncan

2006-12-09T11:21:00.000-08:00

I think this picture pretty much sums it up. Am I supposed to think Tim Duncan is a badass because he is sitting on a weird throne made of simulated ice? He still looks about as tough as my fourth grade teacher Mrs. Miller. So, why do I hate Tim Duncan?

1) He plays for the San Antonio Spurs and they irritate the hell out of me. They're just not fun to watch even though they win a lot. It's like watching someone milk a pig's prostate gland - sure, the job gets done, but it's just so... efficient and technical.

2) He has this reputation of being an all-around nice guy that just rings a little false to me. Sure, I'm jaded because I remember when Kobe Bryant was just this sweet, amazing basketball player and then he turned into a raging, inflated ego, but I suspect Tim Duncan isn't all that goody gumdrops perfect either. How do I know? That leads me to number three..

3) The reason I know he isn't perfect is because about a year ago when the NBA changed its dress code, Duncan told the media: "I think it's a load of crap. I understand what they're trying to do with the hats and do-rags and jerseys and stuff. That's fine. But I don't understand why they would take it to this level. I think it's basically retarded."

He didn't oppose the dress code categorically or talk about how it was implicating objects of dress that have been racialized and therefore denigrated in our culture - no, he was mad because he had to put on a sport coat and decided to liken the code to mental disability. As most of my friends know... you just don't use that word without thinking about it and who it affects.

4) His bio on nba.com says his favorite movie is The Crow. That is just... so lame. How much do you want to bet he has dressed up as the crow for halloween on at least one occasion and thought he really looked like a badass.

Extra credit for anyone who can suggest who Duncan was separated at birth from in the comments section. Come hate with me.

Oh Movies, you're SO stupid! What code doesn't do in real life.

2006-12-08T08:24:00.000-08:00

So I'm currently in paper-writing hell, which means I am borderline brain dead and have limited abilities to think of anything funny on my own. I was however, incredibly amused by drivl.com's article on "What code DOESN'T do in real life (that it does in the movies)" - in it, Matthew Inman takes issue with how movies have tended to exaggerate what code is, looks like, and what it does. In his words, "they've morphed a little stuffed teddy bear into a cybernetic polar bear covered in Christmas lights and phosphorescent hieroglyphics with a fog machine pumping rainbow smoke out of his ass."

Make sure to link to the article for all ten hilarious observations, but my favorites include:

4. Code is not three dimensional
Remember in "hackers" when the gibson is depicted as a three dimensional city that the hackers must navigate through? Bullshit! We may use a dash of color in our shell to make things a bit clearer, but last I checked my terminal app doesn't require OpenGL. I'm working here, bitches - I'm not playing quake.

9. People who write code use mice
According to Hollywood most programmers haven't discovered how to use a mouse. Sure, we type fast, but a mouse is a very useful tool and there's no reason we'd abandon it. While we're dispelling stereotypes, I'd also like to say that not all programmers are hot-pocket eating virgins who play WoW. Some of us exercise and have active social lives. Some have even had SEX! Holy Crap!

10. Most code is not inherently cross platform
Remember in Independence Day when whatshisface-math-guy writes a virus that works on both his apple laptop AND an alien mothership? Bullshit!
If real life were like film I'd be able to port wordpress to my toaster using a cat5 cable and a bag of glitter.

Imagined Presents...

2006-12-05T08:50:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again when - already running low on mental abilities - I have to think of gifts for about seventeen or so family members that I get gifts for every year. The problem is, I tend to get stuck in a rut (I think my father got something Beatles-related from me about six years in a row). It would be way more fun to buy gifts for fictional characters than actual real people who have expectations and longlasting relationships with me that warrant a physical instantiation of those expectations in the form of a gift. Today I want to imagine what I would get for our very own American psycho, Patrick Bateman.

1) A hamster with a machine gun.
We all know of his love for both weapons and rodents petite enough to fit into bodily cavities, so why not combine these two interests into one adorable package? Owning a pet will also teach him about responsibility and may help him develop empathy towards other living things. And if the hamster suffocates inside of a prostitute's decomposing body? No big deal - Bateman will just join the ranks of so many other five year-olds who will "accidentally" kill their pets this year. The whimsical machine gun will communicate to Bateman that we all - including small animals - may get a little homicidal sometimes, but let's not take ourselves so seriously about it.

2) Chicken Soup for the Soul
Okay, I know what you're thinking: it's not cool to give gifts to people that try to change them (for instance - never give anyone a Richard Simmon's Deal-A-Meal if they didn't ask for it - that's just messed up). But I suspect that under Bateman's cold veneer there really is someone there! Sure he's the one most likely to mutter the line, "I'm dead and empty inside," but not after he gets a huge helping of inspirational stories that will open his heart (figuratively speaking - not talking about dissection here) and rekindle his spirit. These stories will hit Bateman's sickly amorality like a hot dose of restorative broth. After this book, he may:
- stop killing homeless people and instead spend weekends volunteering at the soup kitchen
- stop feeding cats to ATMs and rescue a few stranded felines from trees for tiny tots
- stop dissolving women in tubs of lime and take them out for a coffee and polite conversation instead

Stocking stuffers for Bateman: spa certificates and skincare items, including a toner that contains little or no alcohol. After all, alcohol dries out the skin and makes you look older. Merry Christmas Patrick!

From the Annals of Bad Science...

2006-12-04T22:27:00.000-08:00

We all know the 19th century was fraught with examples of bad and specious scientific practice, but let's not forget the dark period of scientific discovery during the heyday of LSD. Apparently anyone who proposed an experiment of "x" on acid (where "x" was usually a small animal, young child, or counterculture visionary) received the funding and film equipment to document their research. Extra credit for anyone who can do a Latourian analysis of this video in the comments section.

Thanks Mom!

2006-12-03T20:18:00.000-08:00

Thanks for my
birthday package!

NBA Player-Hater Saturday: Hedo Turkoglu

2006-12-02T10:18:00.000-08:00

I'm thinking of making it a regular part of my Saturdays to talk about one NBA player that I hate... usually for no particular reason except that he is supremely fugly or plays for a team that was mean to a team that I like. To inaugurate "player-hater Saturday" I'd like to introduce all of you to Hedo Turkoglu and Sloth, beloved character from The Goonies:

Separated at birth, I ask? Note the following similarities: asymmetrical, downturned right eye; gaping mouthed smile; and nuggetty, prominent ears.

Besides being... ummm misshapen, Turkoglu also upsets me for at least two other reasons. The first: he is Turkish and I have an irrational, entirely prejudiced fear of Turkish people - especially those who are on public record of possessing Turkish nationalist pride. Believe me, I know it's pretty messed up for me to think that way (I'm a little embarassed to be typing this), but nationalist pride usually scares me period. I grew up with my Armenian grandmother who was raised under the shadow of the loss of so much of her family between 1915-17.

The second reason I'm not crazy about Turkoglu was because he played for the Kings during the 2001-2 Western Conference finals against the Lakers. This seven-game series was unbelievable - the Lakers had beat the Kings in every one of their four games during the regular season and then it looked like we were going to lose to the likes of Chris "the bitch" Webber and Vlade "the foul-flopper" Divac. This was a big year for the Lakers - we were going for a threepeat - and it was before the following year of shame when Malone and Payton joined the team in an attempt to stack the team (the year all innocent faith I had in the Lakers quickly dissipated). In retrospect, I have to say it was one of the most exciting series I have ever seen (hello? Horry's three for the win at the end of game 4?), but at the time I hated the Kings (and Turkoglu) with a vengeance.

Missed Connections

2006-12-01T20:40:00.000-08:00

When we were in school together, Lisa, Gaby and I would always look forward to Thursday when the new edition of LA Weekly would come out so we could read "Missed Connections" together. You know, that section in the personals ads in newspapers or on craigslist where people post about a moment they thought they had with someone (anywhere from a single exchanged glance to a drunken conversation at a bar) and are hoping beyond chance that the person might happen to read the same post and reply to the psychotic ramblings of a stranger.

Gaby was a hardcore romantic so I suppose she would disagree with my "psychotic ramblings" characterization - she wanted photobooth pictures, glittery hearts, and endless Valentine's Days - stuff I didn't really think much about. It was 1999 - I was 19 and incredibly... skeptical and viciously sarcastic. Lisa was sanely somewhere between the two of us. But something about "Missed Connections" brought us all together. That and the roach coach parked outside of the fashion building near Grand and Washington where we would have lunch four days a week (except for that time Lisa and I split a 20 piece chicken mcnugget bin when McDonald's had that special and we both felt really sick and thirsty afterwards).

So I have to admit I check out the Missed Connections every once in awhile on craigslist just to see what the strange folk are still posting. This one was posted on November 15 in Champaign-Urbana:

You stopped me on the street tonight and made me feel pretty - w4m

Reply to: pers-235087192@craigslist.org
Date: 2006-11-15, 1:48AM CST

I was walking down the street and you told me I was gorgeous. I was wearing glasses and green sweater. I had to rush off and meet someone...but I wish I had stayed to talk with you. I promised to look you up on facebook, but I can't remember your name.

You said you loved the size of my body, but I don't even know if you visit this site. I wish I could get to know you better.
----------

Okay - how sweetly sad is this post? I can't even make fun of it, it just hurts me too much to read. I can just picture her, frantically searching through facebook profile after facebook profile hoping to find the guy who told her he "loved the size" of her body.

This one, on the other hand, I can make fun of:

Reply to: pers-235871125@craigslist.org
Date: 2006-11-16, 4:54PM CST

i was chainsmoking rollies and talking to my so-called friend (j/k, no, really) about the everyday benefits of space suits. (she was looking ernest and unimpressed.) later, the guy next to me struck up a conversation about pigs as a centuries-old religious motif/metaphor. you looked nervous as hell.
-------

Okay hipster. Is it just me, or is he not painfully aware that every female in his life is either unimpressed or "nervous as hell" to be near his chainsmoking, hipster existence? Okay, wait. Now I'm feeling all sad about this one too. Is there just something about the genre that is so painfully awkward because these people are completely (okay okay, I guess they're anonymous, but still) ripping themselves open over someone they saw for a few seconds? Maybe I should call Gaby and ask her what she thinks. She'll tell me all about love at first sight and then tell me to watch Love Story or something... sigh. I can't wait to see her and Lisa later this month :)

What is it about Rush?

2006-11-30T15:58:00.000-08:00

This has to be one of the funniest things I have seen on The Family Guy ever. Who knew Cheetos could get you high? But seriously, this clip made me wonder... what is it about the band Rush and guys (humor me in counting Chester the Cheetah as a guy)? I have never been able to get into the band - I can understand theoretically or technically that they made complex music, but they have always left me cold (I call it the "Steely Dan Syndrome"). Not to essentialize, but the only people I have ever met who have been huge Rush fans are men. Moreover they are RABID fans - never ride in a car with one of them while they're driving - if "Tom Sawyer" plays, they will seriously take their hands off the wheel to break out with a horribly embarassing, gratuitous drum solo. I think there are at least .003 accidents a year because of this phenomenon (the rate was much larger when Moving Pictures was released in '81 I'm sure).

the Urban Dictionary

2006-11-19T15:41:00.000-08:00

I've become obsessed with the Urban Dictionary - so much to the point that I've joined the leagues of volunteer editors who approve or reject attempted new entries. Wikipedia characterizes the site as possessing a low signal-to-noise ratio because of its broad acceptance policy and willingness to accept duplicate word entries, and suggests it is more entertaining than an authoritative guide to contemporary slang. Blah blah blah, why equate "authoritative" with particular, temporally and geographic specific lexical acceptance practices? Anyway, the dictionary has accepted my entry for "sympathy narf" - its very first entry! Of course, its root, "narf" was present in many iterations.

As editor, my favorite entries I recently approved include:

Dr. Fripper:
a meal consisting of fritos and dr.pepper yum yum!

I was sitting at home on the couch being lazy eating Dr. Fripper as my lunch.

shit skillet:
a) One who lacks severely in intellectual prowess or social grace. Unwanted or undesirable by even the lowest societal groups.
b) one who offers nothing of worth to anyone.

We don't want that shit skillet tagging along with us.

Glaph:
Mixture of seamen and urine.

Sadly, there was no sample sentence provided for "glaph" so that I could discern if "seamen" was in fact a homonym mistake or really did refer to sailors. If it was a mistake, then it's not nearly as interesting.

Too young to hold on...

2006-11-13T21:30:00.000-08:00

Humor me, okay? It is my birthday (well at least in some time zones) and I am allowed to think I'm being reflective by wallowing in song lyrics and constructing foolish pop identifications. I always think of Jeff Buckley right around my birthday because his birthday was just three days after my own (November 17) - a pretty weak case for identifying with someone else's work but his songs make it pretty easy for me to want to identify.

What can I say? Not much when I can't be sarcastic, invective, or biting. His music is just... amazing. When I first moved to Urbana two and a half years ago and torturing myself with wrenchingly beautiful music was my favorite hobby (you know, before I found the local roller skating rink and could actually talk to people), I would listen to "Love, You Should've Come Over" more times in a day than is probably legally allowable. (Mostly the Live at Sin-e version for you music snobs out there, and no, I shall entertain no debates today on whether the artistry of the father - Tim Buckley - surpasses that of the son.)

Lover, You Should've Come Over

Looking out the door i see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners
Parading in a wake of sad relations as their shoes fill up with water
And maybe i'm too young to keep good love from going wrong
But tonight you're on my mind so you never know

When i'm broken down and hungry for your love with no way to feed it
Where are you tonight, child you know how much i need it
Too young to hold on and too old to just break free and run

Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun
And much too blind to see the damage he's done
Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one

So i'll wait for you... and i'll burn
Will I ever see your sweet return
Oh will I ever learn

Oh lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late

Lonely is the room, the bed is made, the open window lets the rain in
Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams he had you with him
My body turns and yearns for a sleep that will never come

It's never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
It's never over, all my riches for her smiles when i slept so soft against her
It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
It's never over, she's the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

Well maybe i'm just too young
To keep good love from going wrong

Oh... lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late

Well I feel too young to hold on
And i'm much too old to break free and run
Too deaf, dumb, and blind to see the damage i've done
Sweet lover, you should've come over
Oh, love well i'm waiting for you

Lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late

California...

2006-11-07T22:37:00.000-08:00

Why?

Dark Anxieties About Globalization at the Movies

2006-11-06T08:11:00.000-08:00

This past Friday night I went to see the third installment in the Saw franchise - what can I say? I really like watching gross-out horror films in theatres (it seems like no other types of movies instill such affective or physical responses in me), but horror films also fascinate me because they tend to function as relatively conservative critiques of morality and - to varying degrees of complexity - highlight cultural anxieties in really crude ways. Each Saw movie, though ostensibly presenting the same kind of gore, has focused on three different themes: the first focused on how one values life and exhibits that value through everyday actions and consideration for others; the second explored our dependence on others for life and how trust functions in group dynamics; finally, the latest installment explores power relationships between heterosexual couples and whether there is such a thing as a "life-altering event" where one's character can radically change in response to trauma. The unfortunate assumption in all three films, and one that our federal government also takes for granted with the recent passage of the "torture bill" - is that physical pain and torture seems to trump mental pain and torture in terms of taking its effects seriously and efforts to monitor it. To overcome or withstand physical torture indicates good character and commitment in Saw while mental pain is simply an indulgent, controllable failing of the individual.

The previews before Saw III advertised the upcoming release of Turistas and the second installment of Hostel - the basic message of these films seems to be that when stupid Americans treat "developing" countries as their playground for random sexual encounters and drug and alcohol abuse, then they are so going to get it. The first Hostel even suggests that the value of an American body (even if it's a value placed on it by thrill-kill executioners) is dramatically higher than the value of Other bodies in the world. I can't help but wonder if this recent slew of movies isn't creating representations of our anxieties about the perception of the U.S. and reactionary fears about the effects of globalization.