James Bond's Bang-a-Chick System (tm)

I'm sitting here watching "James Bond 007: Tomorrow Never Dies" and I just had a freakin' revelation, something that I've probably been subconsciously thinking about for the past twelve years of my life or some deeply profound shit like that.

Basically, I break James Bond's Bang a Chick System (tm) down like this: If James Bond talks to a chick for more than, say, five seconds, there's about a 99.99999999999999% chance that before the movie is over, he's gonna sacrifice her vagina to Aphrodite (metaphorically speaking). Either that or she'll be dead.

There ARE, however, exceptions to this rule, namely two: James Bond's boss, M; and M's secretary, Moneypenny. Now, I can understand staying away from M - I mean, she's old, AND she's his boss. But Moneypenny is neither old nor his boss, and is available (a fact I've gleaned from her constant and obvious passes at Mr. Bond throughout the years). The only explanation I have for this is that Miss Moneypenny has some sort of deadly dangerous venereal disease (my guess is crabs). As we all know, based on his history, James Bond is promiscuous, yes - but he is far from stupid.

Many men, I'm sure, wish that the James Bond Bang-a-Chick System (tm) actually worked. As most intelligent people have known for a while, however, it is, in actuality, bullshit.

So.

Yeah.

Stay classy.

Group Interviews Suck Ass

I recently had a group interview at a major clothing store (since I'm not a dick I won't say which one), and I'm going to have to say that they suck major dong.

When I went to the interview, not only was I kept waiting for twenty minutes, but they bullshat me. After the group interview (which I'll get to later), there were individual interviews - if you could call it that. The interviewer called me into the office, and before I'd even finished closing the door (let ALONE sat down), I was told that there were no job openings (and I was the third person called in out of 16 total - what the hell was the interviewer going to say to the other 13? That's some ol' bullshit).

But yeah, to the actual group interview. There were 16 people in the room, including me, and we were all asked questions as a group and were expressly told NOT to speak over each other (how the fuck does that work? You're asking us all the same question at once and we're competing for a limited number of jobs. Of course we're going to want to get our piece said first). I noticed that there were a few archetypes of characters in the room. There was the SUPER PROFESSIONAL old lady that sat next to me and read off the company's mission statement and other company-morale-related shit in response to the questions being asked; the foreigners who have TONS of work experience in "old country" but none here (not ragging on them, I just found it funny); the single mother who spent more time explaining the hours she was available than she did giving her example of great customer service; the out-of-work professional who's wearing a pimpin' business suit but has 24-7 availability so you know they're unemployed; the cookie-cutter airheads that all give the same exact answers and have the "I'm a people person" speech down to a science; and the one guy from like Uganda who is SUPER PASSIONATE about what he's saying, but his thick-ass accent makes it so you have absolutely no clue what the hell he's talking about.

I mean, I'm sure that there are well-done group interviews (I'm actually positive, as my girlfriend had a well-done group interview today, at the same mall, ironically enough), but this was not one of them. I mean, the thing that pissed me off the most was twofold. One, the fact that I was on time and had left early from my dorm - and brought my girlfriend with me so she could drop off her applications and offer moral support - and was kept waiting for at least twenty minutes past the time for which my appointment was scheduled; and two, the fact that they bullshat the hell out of me, because they knew that there were jobs or else they wouldn't have called me to the "individual interview" (aka "bullshit interview," aka "open door, attempt to close door, get bullshat, leave") third out of 16 people. What happened to the other 13, did they get jobs or did they get bullshat too? Who knows. Moreover, who cares?

I need a fucking job!

Stay classy

"Do you mind?"

Once again, folks, I'm back with a linguistic "what the hell" in this observation.

Last time it was the fact that 99% of people think that "me too" is the end-all to any conversation (and, if you haven't been reading, I disputed that and asserted that the TRUE end-all to any conversation was "fuck off").

The time before that, it was the fact that a majority of people seem to find pleasure in doing or saying something, and then immediately afterwards, asking you and/or others in the vicinity to tell them exactly how or why they did or said what they just did or said (and, again, if you haven't been reading, I gave reasons why I not only couldn't explain to them why or how, but didn't want to).

This time, however, it's a little different, and it's something that - while it still makes me wonder how these people managed to get into college - I can understand happening.

I'm talking about "Do you mind" as a question. Just for the sake of my argument, I'm going to explain the question. In asking me if I mind that you do something or if I mind doing something for you, or whatever the case may be, you're asking if I would have any qualms about it or any reason not to do whatever it is you're asking me to do. Now, if I did not have any qualms or reasons not to do it, I would answer "No, I don't mind" and would carry out whatever task it was. However, if I DID have qualms or reasons not to do it, I would answer "Yes, actually, I do mind" and would NOT carry out whatever task it was. With me so far? Good.

The thing that bothers me is that people seem to be stuck in a mental rut when it comes to being asked if they mind. I can only fathom at the reason, but the best I can come up with is that they're so used to being asked if they would do something in a much more straightforward manner (i.e. "will you do this for me?"), and as such they know that if they want to do whatever it is, they respond with a "yes." This leads me to believe that they're so used to saying "yes" when asked to do something, that even when the question is switched up a bit and they should answer "no" (which would mean "yes"), they answer "yes" out of habit (which means "no").

I mean, I expected this sort of thing when I was younger. I knew a kid named Chris when I was about three, whose mother took care of me while my folks were at work, and whenever I'd ask him if he minded if I did something, he would always reply "yes" and I would have to clarify if he meant "yes I mind" or "yes you can do (whatever I'd asked)." And he would just keep saying "yes" because he was an idiot.

But that was when I was three. There's no excuse for that shit now.

Stay classy.

Shocking Lack of Diversity

This is an issue that, in all seriousness, I feel very strongly about. Diversity in America seems to be one of those things that the average fool thinks is a done deal. Diversity is NOT a done deal. I remember getting pamphlets and whatnot from Yale University with four people on the front of it, all four smiling. There was a white guy, a black chick, an Asian guy and a Hispanic chick. The thing that I got out of this picture of diversity was not "wow, Yale is a pretty ethnically diverse university," it was more along the lines of "wow, how long did it take to find these people at Yale?" I mean, the white guy and the Asian guy would be a cinch to find (let's not kid ourselves here, and if anyone wants to dispute this, bring it on. I lived down the street from Yale University from birth until I left for college. I know what I'm talking about).

What I'm trying to say is, diversity is still a major problem in America. People look around and see all types of ethnicities being included in movies, music, literature, etc. But what are they doing in these portrayals? I mean, the most accurate depiction of a black guy in movies as a "black guy in movies" was in "Not Another Teen Movie," with "the Token Black Guy."

But this isn't about Yale University's show of diversity, which is ironically coupled with a lack thereof. Nor is it about how minorities are portrayed in popular culture. Nor is it about "Not Another Teen Movie," nor about "Token Black Guy"s.

The shocking lack of diversity to which I'm referring is this:
Why is it, on EVERY SINGLE PENIS ENLARGEMENT/MALE ENHANCEMENT COMMERCIAL, THERE IS NOT A SINGLE BLACK GUY?

Stay classy

No Sound = No Sense

I'm not sure how many of you have been to college or are currently in college (haha like anybody reads this), but at least at St. John's University (where I am), in the main dining hall, there are a bunch of TVs up on the walls. These TVs are perpetually tuned to the MTVu channel, which is supposed to be MTV for college people. About 95% of the time that I actually allow my eyes to wander over to the TV screen closest to me (I really don't like MTV, but that's a completely different observation), there's a music video playing. The only thing is, I'm in a crowded, noisy dining hall. Thus, I can't hear the lyrics of the song for shit. This poses an interesting problem. Have you spotted it?

I'm only getting half the experience. I'm getting all the booty-shakin' and rim-spinnin' and all that, which, granted, really doesn't need lyrics these days to have it make sense. 90% of music videos seem to have either booty-shakin' or rim-spinnin' or both (don't you like these impromptu statistics?), so that's nothing new.

The stuff that gets me, though, is the weird shit. Like today, I watched a music video from start to finish (I don't remember the artist's name, but it was two twin ladies, apparently). In the video, one of the twins was walking through what looked like Mexico while these two guys carrying this huge mirror walked beside her, such that we saw her and her reflection in the mirror. Her reflection's hairstyle was different, she wasn't wearing earrings, and her dress was different. I later realized that this had to be her sister, but it still begs the question . . .

What the hell? What the hell is going on? I don't understand what in the hell she could've been singing about that would allow her and her mirror-dwelling twin to be walking through Mexico and for it to make sense.

Similarly, the next video was a Common song (I don't remember the title of the song). He and a computer-animated robot with red eyes were rapping, and there was just a bunch of weird robot stuff going on. I'll give Common the benefit of the doubt because I don't hate him like I hate Soulja Boy, but I'm still drawing a blank as to what the hell he could've been rapping about that would allow the robot and all the robot-related tomfoolery to make sense.

I dunno, people. Modern music throws me for a loop, apparently.

Whatever.

Stay classy.

Touch My Laundry Again and You're Dead

Scenario:
You're doing your laundry. You set your phone's alarm for five minutes before the drying cycle is supposed to be done, because you know that about 90% of the time, your clothes come out anywhere from slightly damp to downright moist even after 45 full minutes of spinning and evaporation-inducing heat.
The elevator door slides open, the wave of humidity smacks you in the face, and you walk out into the laundry room, turn left, and -
What the fuck!? Your clothes are thrown willy-nilly on the counter. But the surprises aren't over yet - you look past the pile of clothes and see that the timer on the dryer you were using has 40 minutes left out of 45. You specifically remember, however, that you set your alarm so that you'd come down to get your laundry with five minutes left on the timer.

You do some quick mental math and realize that some douchebag decided that your clothes would magically be perfectly dry after only 35 minutes of drying, rather than the dryer-recommended 45, and took your clothes out ten minutes early to put his or her own in. I mean, you could understand if there were like two or three minutes left and the poor sap was in a hurry because he had to print twelve pages and was late for class (LIKE YOU WERE), but TEN MINUTES?

You're pissed about the fact that some dickhead took your clothes out ten minutes before they were done, but then you turn to the pile and pick up the first shirt - and it's like a wet sponge. So, in their infinite assholery, not only did this person take out your clothes ten minutes early to put their own in, but in doing so they actually touched your clothes and REALIZED THAT THEY WERE STILL WET! What kind of retard takes WET clothes out of the dryer - moreover, someone ELSE'S wet clothes - to put in MORE wet clothes? That makes less sense than bottled water AND this combined!
End scenario.

Except, to me, that was no scenario. That was about two hours ago.

For God's sake people!

Stay classy

"Me too!"

Let's play a little game, one I like to call "Why are the Following Statements About as Stupid as Bottled Water?" Here's how you play: read the following statements and give me a valid reason as to why they're all about as stupid as the idea and implementation of bottled water. Easy enough, right? Good! Let's start.

1.
"I'm gonna miss you sooo much!"
"Me tooooo!"

2.
"I love you."
"Me too."

3.
"I think you're beautiful."
"Me too!"

4.
"That tree is really far away."
"Me too!"
(kudos to anyone who gets that reference, by the way)

If, for examples one through four, your answer as to why they're about as stupid as bottled water was "BECAUSE THEY DON'T MAKE ANY FREAKIN' SENSE!" then you are quite correct. Granted, examples three and four were thrown in there to hyperbolize the situation (and because I need something to laugh at during these next three hours of Theology), but the answer still applies. Why does it apply, you ask? Simple.

Many people believe that there is a conversational equivalent to water in the English language - a universal solvent that can dissolve all conversations. I'm one of those people, and I believe that Universal Conversational Solvent is, verbatim, "Fuck off." However, most of the other people that believe in the UCS (a nifty little acronym that saves me typing out "Universal Conversational Solvent" all the damn time) is "Me too", and, I'm really sorry to burst your bubbles, people, but you're dead wrong.

"Me too" is the conversational equivalent to vinegar, not water. It dissolves the conversation, yes, as does water (or "Fuck off"), but not in the same fashion. "Me too" dissolves the conversation in a "wow this guy's a moron" sort of way, which means you (the moron) lose the initiative in the conversation - all conversational power is lost, and the unlucky bastard to whom you were talking is the one making the move to walk away, and is doing so out of choice. Now, the REAL UCS (that would be "Fuck off," in case you haven't been paying attention), when used properly, has the same effect, but dissolves the conversation in more of a "this guy obviously doesn't want to talk to me anymore and I should probably leave him alone before he takes out a blade and cuts me" kind of way. This means you (the badass) rob the unlucky bastard to whom you were talking of his conversational power, and although he's still going to be the one making the move to walk away, it's not because he's choosing to, it's because you've just demasculated him and you're staring him down, daring him to stay put for a second longer, and you've probably put it into his head that you have a blade and will potentially cut him. Do you see the difference?

So, in conclusion: "Me too" < "Fuck off" in the Universal Conversational Solvent Olympics (yup), just as Vinegar < Water in the regular ol' Universal Solvent Olympics. So, the next time you say something that warrants a personally-conceived response and you get "Me too," grit your teeth, smile, and tell that dumbass to "Fuck off."

And, as always.

Stay classy.