Posts tagged wtf
look what just popped up in google reader
Aug 24th
So you might be wondering, what the heck happened to Jeff? Did someone finally show up at his house and say, “You know that blog thing you’re doing? Just…stop. Seriously man, you suck.” Actually, you’re probably not wondering that, but you’re probably nodding along with this fictional, sarcastic hero for English majors.
Unfortunately for those offended by my run-on sentences and lack of “proper” punctuation and nonsensical parenthetical comments (just like that time I thought I could eat two donuts with sprinkles) the reason for my absence is far more mundane and ordinary.
I got a new job which doesn’t require me to talk to people who made most of the stories on this site. That’s right folks, I’m out of the phone support business and doing more backend computer work, so I won’t have as many fun stories about exploding keyboards and users who don’t know their ass from a DVD in the ground.
The other reason for not writing? Dude, it’s summer. I do a lot of things in summer that don’t involve being in front of a computer when I’m at home, such as being outside and getting vitamin D. But to catch you up, here’s the Cliff Notes of my summer. There will be a test at the end.
1. Wife got laid off from her school district because they cut 700 teachers positions. In order to accommodate the reduction of teachers, 2,100 students were also eliminated.
2. We celebrated our one year anniversary in August by going to Ohio, the state of romance and wonderment. Ohio was quite lovely and we had a good time, except for driving across Indiana. Indiana sucks. Why Indianiots all speak with southern accents makes no sense.
3. I ate a lot of fried fish and wrote reviews about them for examiner.com. I also audited a class on shameless self-promotion.
4. Wife went on 10,000 interviews and didn’t get a job anywhere. Then on one day, she had three job offers within a couple hours. We went and bought lottery tickets; will let you know later this week when they hold the drawing if we’re millionaires or not.
5. We started fostering dogs who need homes. Our current houseguest is Skipper, and he still needs to find his forever home. He’s the best black lab mutt ever. Click here for more info. Did I mention I took a class in shameless self-promotion?
6. I don’t really have six things to talk about, but I put a “6.” and I don’t believe in backspacing.
Random thought #1:
I played with an iPad recently. I don’t get it. Judging by the word “iPad” not appearing in an article in the last 6 weeks, I’m guessing nobody else does either. To all the iSheep out there, I have an iBridge to sell you,
Serious thought:
The “ground zero mosque” is not at ground zero, nor is it a mosque strictly speaking. It is an Islamic Community Center which contains a mosque, and it is several blocks away from the ground zero site. You know what else is within a couple blocks of ground zero? An off-track betting site and a strip club. We live in a country where freedom of religion is the FIRST protection spelled out in the bill of rights. The people who carried out that act of terrorism were no more Muslim than Timothy McVeigh was a Christian. If we are to not become hypocrites, there should be no churches allowed near the Oklahoma City site. Shut up and deal with the melting pot that has made us awesome.
Random thought #2:
Am I stealing this gimmick from Gregg Easterbrook’s TMQ? A little bit, but he’s the man. At least I’m not doing previews of my upcoming posts.
Twitter thought:
The failwhale and I are now on a first name basis, since we see each other every fifteen minutes or so. I call her Kirstie.
NFL thought:
I can’t remember a year in which I’ve cared less about the NFL. I don’t know what it is, but I think the NFL has reached a saturation point with me, especially since there hasn’t been any surprises for awhile. Here’s whats going to happen: the Packers will lose in the second round of the playoffs. The Vikings are going to implode. Indianapolis will lose in the Super Bowl. The Patriots aren’t going to do anything, but all the analysts are going to pretend they’re still relevant. Everyone will predict big things from Houston, and they will suck. The Chargers will somehow win the West again, despite being terrible. Al Davis will come out of his lair once every sixteen days and devour an innocent bystander. Players will be paid too much money. Bill Belichick will dress like a hobo with a drinking problem. Mike Holmgren will complete his transformation into a walrus. John Madden will somehow still be on television doing his moron schtick even though he retired.
MLB thought:
Blah blah Yankees blah Red Sox blah blah Manny Ramierz who cares. Get with the program Selig and do something to make parity in the league already.
Random thought #3:
If you actually read all the way down here, congratulations! You’re either my mother or very bored at work.
I’ll be back, I promise!
good morning miss bliss
Jun 8th
A friend of mine, oh let’s call her Liiska, recently sat next to a celebrity on a plane from Milwaukee to New York. For our age group, this particular celebrity will always bear a special place in our hearts, even though his acting career has completely fizzled, unless you count the odd pornographic movie and terrible standup routine.
Liiska was not sitting in first class. She had a window seat back in coach. That means that said celebrity was sitting in the middle seat of the row. In coach. That’s gotta be hard on the ego.
At this point, you may be wondering if I’m playing it fast and loose with the definition of “celebrity, and that is a fair question. Indeed, this whole story may have seemed suspect if Liiska had not gotten photographic proof:
Yes, that’s right, it’s Dustin Diamond. Better known as Screech to anyone who was alive during the 90′s.
If I was sitting next to Screech on a plane, I would be so excited, so excited, so….scared!
everything i need to know
May 21st
As you may or may not know, Wife is a four-year old kindergarten teacher.
Hmm, that sounds kind of odd, let me rephrase: she is a kindergarten teacher for four-year-olds.
Much better.
She’s been at the same school for two years now and has had, oh how should I put this, a wide range of intellectual prowess in her students.
In the beginning of the year, a lot of children haven’t been away from home for any length of time and have trouble with concepts like “crapping in your pants is bad” and “peeing in the middle of the hallway is not allowed.” However, about half the class is already able to read and she has a lot of really bright kids.
Even the smartest of children can still be a dumbass when they’re four.
This week, Wife had a student chew a hole through his shirt. I’m not sure if he was trapped inside his shirt and he had to use his teeth to chew a path to freedom or what the case might be, but I’m sure he had a good reason for it. Perhaps he suffers from a disorder that causes his incisors to grow like a rodent’s, and he couldn’t find a nearby block of wood to chew on.
In the same day, Wife had another student get his head stuck in a chair. Of all the life skills that someone can screw up, you should be able to sit in a chair without protective headgear. I offered to draw him a diagram of how to properly utilize a chair and minimize risk of injury, but I was voted down. Getting his head extracted from the place where normal people put their butt resulted in some bruising to his face, which I hope serves as a reminder the next time the child is faced with a furniture dilemma.
Wife also has one student this week who came in wearing a pair of white gloves. When she asked why he was wearing white gloves, he said it’s because he’s Mario. And then he proceeded to jump around the room like Mario trying to get coins out of a ? box. When the student was advised that he couldn’t wear the gloves during class, he threw a tantrum. They reached a compromise that allowed him to wear the gloves during lunch and recess but not during class. It seems as if this kid never takes these gloves off, because after a couple days, they are no longer close to white. They’re now a much more realistic color for an actual plumber whose hands might spend all day in poopwater.
Wife is a saint for even being a teacher in the first place; I think I would have snapped long ago. She’s even sad that she only has 17 more days of class and that all her kids are leaving.
Even the one who got his head stuck in a chair.
it makes it better
Apr 30th
This nifty invention really makes me sad that Billy Mays isn’t around anymore, because you know that his version of this infomercial would be EPIC.
I don’t even have words, just…just watch this.
Now I feel bad, because I just made you watch something you can’t unsee.
Before I got married, I got all sorts of advice from people. Nobody told me that farting in bed is a major issue for married couples, and now I’m concerned that I’ve been an awful husband. Not that I’m overly gassy or anything, but now I’m going to worry about it.
I’m not claiming to be a flatus expert, but if your gas requires military-grade filters that can save you from a nerve gas attack, MAYBE YOU SHOULD CHANGE YOUR DIET. Just sayin…
“Honey, you know how I have to wear a charcoal filter World War I-style gas mask to bed after we eat Mexican food?”
“Boy do I!”
“Well I won’t need to wear that anymore! Say goodbye to unsightly gas-mask lines on my face! We’re getting the Marriage Blanket!”
“It’s about time someone came up with a solution to my terrible gas! Now I can eat cabbage and rotten meat, and not disturb my loved ones!”
Also, kudos to the designers of this thing for naming it the Marriage Blanket. According to their website at http://www.bettermarriageblanket.com/ the blanket is perfect for “weddings, anniversaries, birthdays, room mates, [or a] humorous occasion.” It seems to me that giving this as a gift to anyone for any occasion is a good way to get donkey punched.
The website also calls the blanket a “fun solution to a common problem!” Actually, a way more fun solution if you live with someone who has uncontrollable flatus is to get them a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Fart Alarm 2000, which yells “cowabunga” every time you let one slip. I don’t know if this exists yet, but it should.
Yet, despite all that, they ALMOST had me wanting to try this thing out. That is until they displayed the price of “three easy payments of $39.95.” That makes this a $120 blanket, and no part of paying $120 for a blanket is easy. It should say “three easy payments of $39.95, and six weeks of buyer’s remorse. You just bought a fart blanket, hahaha!”
I promise you, in a couple weeks, we’ll be seeing infomercials for the new FartSnuggie, “the slanket you can fill with farts without worrying that those around you are judging you. Well, judging you any MORE than someone just wearing a slanket.”
If anyone out there actually gets one of these, please come back here and tell me if it’s improved your life. Just, please, leave out the details.
samurai conquer slug
Mar 23rd
Now if you read that title and thought to yourself, “Jeff usually has strange titles that make sense by the end, I wonder what he’s talking about here? I MUST click on that link and find out!” then my secret plan has worked. Damn, I just gave away the secret.
Don’t leave.
A couple weeks ago, I had a caption contest giveaway for some of the worst prizes in giveaway history. Marnie won a box of authentic Japanese Samurai with Ninja and Travis won a Build Your Own Easter Island Kit. I sent these packages off into the the world with a tear in my eye but with hope in my heart that they would enjoy their new lives.
Imagine my delight when pictures surfaced of the Samurai on their adventures! It looks like they’re having a grand ol’ time out west with Marnie, but haven’t let California mellow their martial inclinations. Here’s the email they sent me:
To: jeff
From: JSwN
Subject: Battle of the ParkNanika atta? Kawatta koto aru? Nothing much here. Katsumoto says hi. We went to the park yesterday, and you wouldn’t believe what happened, so we took pix. Don’t worry, we’re all OK, but it was close for awhile there.
So here we are marching in formation through the woods, and this giant monster comes at us. We quickly surrounded it to make sure it would get no further.
The beast howled at the realization that it was trapped, and grew fierce! We stabbed at it with our spears, but we could not penetrate the tough skin of the monster. The lines wavered and nearly broke, for with each attack from the hellbeast, it grew harder and harder to defend.
Suddenly, Omura jumped upon it’s great back with dagger held high!
The brute roared with anger and tried to throw Omura from it’s back. Omura hung on tightly, and plunged his dagger into the fiend behind it’s single eye. The demon reared up on and nearly threw Omura clear, but still he clung to it’s back. As it fell forward and died, we let out a resounding cheer. Such bravery! Such devotion!
Unfortunately, we had to throw it back because it isn’t hellfiend season right now. Here is a picture of Omura. He said that if we didn’t get a picture of him with it, nobody would ever believe him.
Marnie is going to take us shoe shopping now. If we don’t get in any more battles today, she said she might get us ice cream.
l8ter dood. Oyasuminasai and gokouun o inorimasu.
Samurai with Ninja
Well how about that, they cared enough to write! *sniff* I miss you guys!
how…how is that possible?
Jan 22nd
I’m not what you would call a gourmet chef, but if I ever ended up on some cooking battle show, I’d have to say my style is steeped in “Bachelor Cheffery.”
When I left home to go to college, I was forced to cook for myself for the first time. Being of meager income, my meals mainly consisted of ramen, pasta, bulk frozen chicken breasts, cereal, eggs, and other simple staples. I never really kept a lot of food around, because I hated going to the grocery store and would only get necessities for survival (i.e. beer).
However, like many single guys, I managed to accumulate an inordinate amount of condiments and spices. I had more ketchups and mustards and barbecue sauces and dressings and such than you could shake a stick at, and my huge box of bulk dried spices would take that stick and beat you with it. The bonus of this style of cooking was that you could take plain, boring items and make them interesting so you would actually want to eat them. Ramen comes with those little flavor packets, but if you add a little szechuan sauce it became edible. I became adroit at taking random ingredients that you would never think would go together and making food.
I put sliced brats in the stir fry, mac and cheese on the pizza, and basil and oregano on everything. Hot sauce and salsa would go in the eggs, Hamburger Helper would help more than just hamburger, and ranch dressing was my best friend.
Occasionally, my cooking style has led to mishaps. While usually this just results in making terrible, terrible food that no human without a cast-iron stomach should ingest, it has rarely resulted in kitchen destruction or anything catastrophic.
Except for the one time where I defied the laws of physics.
This was a day where I wasn’t feeling particularly inspired for lunch, so I took one of those bags of noodles with all the spices and stuff all in one and dumped it into a small pot of boiling water. I know they say stir constantly, but seriously, I’m not going to stand there for three minutes and stir things. So I walk away for a couple minutes, and when I come back, the pot of water is on fire.
Let me repeat: the pot (a metal container) of water (a substance used to extinguish fires) is on fire (the opposite of water).
I sat there and stared at the flames shooting out of the water, thoroughly confused. Was it something on top of the water that was burning? No, I didn’t add any oil, and it looked like the fire was coming OUT OF the bubbling water, not on top of it.
I called my roommate into the kitchen, and we both stared at the burning water for about a minute, trying in vain to determine what caused it.
In our wonderment, we forgot that smoke alarms are loud and annoying, so I took the pot off the burner. When I dumped out the water, I found all the noodles had become stuck to the bottom of the pot. Actually, “stuck” doesn’t accurately describe what happened to the noodles; they had morphed into a hardened adamantine lump which was welded to the bottom of the pot.
My only theory is that the noodles got stuck to the bottom of the pot, and as they were in direct contact with the metal, were able to heat up to the point where they could burst into flames. When the water started boiling, a little air was able to get down to the superheated noodlekindling, and viola! we have fire!
Either that or God just wanted to see my face when he made water burn.
my life does not require popcorn
Jan 13th
I read this article about Avatar making people depressed, and I can say I’m one of them. Not because I won’t ever go to Pandora, but because if they had spent 1/100th of their budget on a script it would have been even better.
Cards on the table, I really liked this movie, and thought it was very good. One of the best movies I’ve ever seen? No. To me, one of the qualities I like in a good movie is how every day after you’ve seen it, it makes you think about it more, and your appreciation for it grows. Avatar just seemed to fade away, and I started thinking about the numerous issues I had with the script. But I will say this, if you’re going to go see it, spend the extra couple bucks and go to IMAX 3d because it’s worth it.
The giant blue aliens were awesome, and since they were all muscular, beautifully toned physical specimens, of course everyone who watches them will have their imaginations wander about what it would be like… but guess what? They’re computer generated images, just like Sharon Stone. They might look good on screen, but they don’t exist in reality.
I walked out of the theater thoroughly impressed with the images I had just seen, but did I want to go to Pandora and live there? Hell no! EVERYTHING ON THAT PLANET IS TRYING TO KILL YOU! There was not one “nice” inhabitant of that damn planet, JUST LIKE LIVING IN THE JUNGLE ON THIS PLANET. If I were stupid enough to go and try to live in the jungle on Earth, I’d be dead within a week. And in this case, I’m dealing with animals and critters and plants that are somewhat recognizable and I probably saw on the discovery channel at some point.
Oh, and what else does Pandora have? FLOATING MOUNTAINS. That’s right, they have entire island-sized hunks of stone that are FLOATING IN THE AIR FOR NO REASON. And that doesn’t scare the crap out of you, because it does me. If I ever saw a floating mountain above my house, you wouldn’t even be able to ask me if I wanted to go live there because I’d be too busy cleaning the poop out of my pants.
Good stories are supposed to transport you to the realm that they take place in. When I read Lonesome Dove, I could practically taste the dust of the trail in my mouth. Did I want to go be a cowboy in the 1800′s? Not really. Harry Potter does a fantastic job of creating its own world with its own rules and wonders, but I didn’t want to be a wizard. Does this mean that I lack imagination or empathy or something that is making me less than human? Maybe.
At least I don’t want to commit suicide because the blue aliens aren’t real.
Or maybe thats just called balance.
dorm room music studio
Jan 9th
Back my freshman year of college, I had several friends that were really good musicians. I am a drummer, but that’s a pretty hard instrument to play in a dorm room, so my friends who played way more portable instruments got way more of a chance to practice than I.
Jordan was one of the best guitarists I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing with. Al was a fantastic singer and a pretty good bassist, if he could remember the song that we were playing. Lucy played a mean viola and could belt it out. Joe is the best singer I’ve ever worked with, and a hell of a pianist and guitarist now as well.
What I had though was some recording equipment and some ancient software for multitracking and editing and such. This lead to some rather bizarre creations and some pretty good ones. I burned all of these songs on CD’s (yeah, I know, right?) and every time I got a new computer I moved the files along for the ride.
Sadly, eventually all the CD’s were lost/scratched and the data failed to make a move or two, and I thought I had lost it all. Today, I was digging through some old boxes and guess what I found.
It’s not the entire collection, but I was able to recover a couple tracks from a CD today. For your listening pleasure, I have uploaded two songs, one is normal and one is bizarre.
This is the normal one, and it was just us goofing around trying to get levels on everything right, but it turned out pretty good and now it’s stuck in my head so it has to go up:
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Yeah, and now it’s in your head too. Jordan played guitar, and Al and Lucy sang.
And now into a song that I don’t even think can be explained but I’ll try.
One day, I showed Jordan how to hook up his guitar and record tracks on the computer. He had a couple things that he wanted to record and this was the easiest way of doing it. I left for class, and when I came back, he had figured out the multitracking and layered about a half-dozen guitar parts on top of each other. I borrowed a floormate’s djembe and banged out a drum line.
We thought this was hilarious, but we needed to get some lyrics.
Al comes into the room, and it is quickly determined that he should sing something. Rather than create our own lyrics, we decide that he should simply read from books in a very broken and disjointed way. We pressed record, he grabbed some books of the shelf and started reading whatever page he opened up to. He starts off with a little Great Gatsby, which leads into David Lettermen’s Top Ten Lists, and ends with A Brave New World.
This song never really had a name, but it always made us laugh. Granted, we were usually drunk when we would start listening to this, but the point still stands.
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As I recover more of these songs and clean them up, hopefully I can find other gems like this. And by gem, of course I mean cubic zirconia.
circus tiger
Dec 2nd
I don’t much read the tabloids or entertainment section, but I’m starting to think that I should more. My belief is that it will rot your brain even more than watching television, and watching TMZ on television is akin to giving yourself a lobotomy.
However, when all the major news networks cited TMZ in regards to the Tiger Woods story, I thought I might have to adjust my view on this. And now that the police have stopped their investigation, we’re stuck with TMZ to find out the truth.
You have no idea how incredibly sad this makes me feel. Woodward and Bernstein move over, we have Perez Hilton.
Nonetheless, I’m intrigued by this story because of how ludicrous the story that Tiger and Supermodel want us to believe. From what I gather, this is their version:
Tiger was driving his Escalade in the wee hours of the morning for no reason whatsoever and we’re not going to say. He then crashed it into a fire hydrant and a tree. Don’t worry, he wasn’t going fast and the airbags didn’t even deploy. Supermodel wife hears the crash, and runs outside with one of Tiger’s 8-irons which she uses to smash the rear window and heroically drags her husband to safety. Thank you for coming to the press conference no questions please have a nice day.
Like that frog from 7th grade, I’m now going to dissect this poorly.
Tiger was driving his Escalade in the wee hours of the morning for no reason whatsoever and we’re not going to say.
Isn’t Tiger the Buick spokesman? Are they going to be pissed he didn’t crash a LeSabre?
He then crashed it into a fire hydrant and a tree.
Fire hydrant AND a tree? Goodbye Buick sponsorship, hello lucrative chain of bumper car carnival attractions. Only 4 tickets to ride the TigerCrash.
Don’t worry, he wasn’t going fast and the airbags didn’t even deploy.
Yet the impact was loud enough and Tiger was so dazed and woozy from the impact that…
Supermodel wife hears the crash, and runs outside with one of Tiger’s 8-irons which she uses to smash the rear window and heroically drags her husband to safety.
Because apparently Tiger keeps a bag of golf clubs in the garage just like any other average married guy. Probably in a corner by the door so it looks like they get used often, but actually have cobwebs on them.
Thank you for coming to the press conference no questions please have a nice day.
Wait wait wait.
If he crashed his car slow enough that the airbags didn’t deploy, why did he need to be dragged to safety over the driver seat and over the passenger seat and out the back window? And after you dragged him out, why leave him lying in the middle of the street, which is where he was when the neighbors found him? And why not, I don’t know, open the door instead of bashing out windows? And why not, I don’t know, call 911?
If this wasn’t Tiger Woods that we were talking about, and just some other random dude from your neighborhood, wouldn’t we come to another set of assumptions entirely? Just because he’s the best in the world at swatting a little ball into a cup doesn’t mean he’s not as messed up as “normal” people. I now present to you the Lifetime Original movie of “Club of Justice” (starring the mom from Gilmore Girls and a male actor from Star Trek TNG):
One Thanksgiving weekend, Susan found out that Bob had been cheating on her. Not with one woman, but with at least three. You see, Bob was out of town on business a lot, and since he was a jerk, he slept with a lot of other women. He had been able to keep this secret for awhile, but the truth is bound to come out.
Susan was understandably enraged, and they argued and fought all night. When Bob was unrepentant, because he’s a jerk, she slapped him and beat him with her tiny fists, which bounced off Bob. However, his inflated jerk ego was bruised because a woman was attempting to hurt him.
Bob yelled at Susan, “You’re crazy! I’m leaving until you get your self together!” and walked out to the garage. Susan followed him, yelling obscenities at his back, trying to elicit some reaction from the man she thought she loved. All the way to the garage she yelled, and Bob didn’t even turn around to acknowledge her.
Finally, she could take no more. He had marginalized her and pushed her aside once too many. She had put her promising career on hold to raise their children, and this was the thanks she gets? Susan saw his golf bag sitting by the door, and quickly grabbed a club. She swung it at Bob, striking him in the back and the head. Bob staggered a step, then turned to look at her. He saw the anger in her eyes, and for the first time was afraid. He ran to the car, and quickly locked himself in. Bob put the car in reverse, and quickly backed out the driveway. Susan chased after him, and smashed the rear window of the car with the club as he drove away .
Bob was dazed from the blow, and couldn’t see straight. He tried to fight off unconsciousness, but the gray closed in around his vision. He didn’t even feel the impact of the tree, but when he awoke he saw that he car had struck one. He opened the door and fell out onto the street.
After all that, I think I could actually be a writer for Lifetime. Actually, a soap opera could be more fun. Because if this was a soap, this is what would happen next:
As Susan stared at the prone figure of her husband, a shadowy woman stepped from the treeline.
“Susan, I must tell you, Bob is actually my husband too!”
DUH DUH DAAAAA!
She continued, “And Susan, I am…you long lost twin sister!”
DUH DUH DAAAA!
She continued, “And Susan, the club in your hand belonged to…our father!”
DAA DAA DAA DUUUUUN!
voiceover: “What will become of Bob? Will Susan be able to connect with her new sister? Will they go to brunch? Will their father want his golf club back? Stay tuned for next week’s…DANGEROUS PLEASANTRIES!”
Eh? Eh?
Yeah I know, I won’t quit my day job.
gilbert? is that you?
Oct 23rd
I just took a call from a user that had me at a loss for words. The entire time I was on the phone with her, there was an incredibly loud and annoying bird squaking in the background. In fact, it was so irritating, I have to assume that it was actually on the shoulder of the person I was talking to.
There are only three reasons this is acceptable:
1. She has never talked on a phone before
2. She is a pirate.
3. She is Jaffar, and Iago is trying to sell me Aflac insurance.
Using the process of elimination, I think I just helped a pirate with their computer for the first time. Which is good, because now she can get back to plundering.
