Readership, as I dropped a deuce today, I had a revelation.
While you can argue all day whether the mother of invention is ingenuity or necessity, at the end of the day, its father will ALWAYS be laziness.
An explanation? Oh of course. I'll go even further than just a mere explanation. I'll give examples.
But first, an explanation.
Inventing something new requires a few things. For one, it requires intelligence. This can be debated, but usually when something that's actually worth a damn gets invented, the inventor wasn't an idiot. The key phrase here is "actually worth a damn." I could invent a toothbrush with four heads and three bristles, and since there's nothing out there that can say it's a toothbrush with four heads and three bristles, it's a new invention. Is it worth a damn, though? Fuck no it's not.
Secondly, inventing something requires creativity. This one can't be debated - every single invention, by its definition, is borne of a thought or idea that is OUTSIDE the norm, aka creative. The Sun was nice, but only around during the day, and the idea of a night-light being anything but a candle or a fireplace was a ridiculous, almost asinine concept before Thomas Edison dropped the mindfuck of lightbulbery on the world.
Thirdly, inventing something requires perseverance. Keeping with the Thomas Edison example, his first lightbulb design was FAR from perfect - as were his second, third, fourth, hundredth, and ten thousandth designs. However, after ten thousand designs that sucked major donkey balls and failed completely, the winning design was invented and the lightbulb lived.
Now all that is well and good, but the SINGLE THING that every invention needs - the inciting incident, the catalyst, the spark - is, unequivocally, pure and utter laziness.
Now it's time to be makin' with the examples.
"I don't wanna have to use this bitchass abacus anymore. It takes too much effort." That led to the calculator.
"I'm sick of having to go out in the woods, cut down a tree, cut it up into logs for hours on end, and then throw it into the fire - JUST to have some heat and be able to cook my food!" Enter the heater and stove.
"Why do I have to use this got-damn stove - all that watching the stuff and making sure it doesn't burn takes hella effort." Hello microwave.
"I really don't wanna have to spend time writing a letter and then waiting for it to get to my homeboy across country." And so the telephone was invented.
Courtesy of Waffles: "'I'm so tired of chasing vagina.' And thus the girlfriend was invented.'"
He's kidding. Calm down.
But yeah. I can go on and on with this all day, but I think you've got the gist down. Every single thing that's been invented was invented due to the inventor's laziness, which just happened to be (ironically) coupled with a dedication and ingenuity that would not let them quit until the stimulus that brought on the need for said laziness was eradicated.
And that, readership, is what I think of while I'm taking a shit.
Stay classy
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Actually, No I Didn't Hear You
Readership, once again, a conversational "what the fuck." Let me spit it atcha real quick.
Sometimes, during the course of a conversation (textual or in person), you'll simply not understand something the other person says, or even worse, not hear it. In such situations, it's customary for you to say something along the lines of "what do you mean?" or "what did you say?" respectively.
If the person that you're talking to is NOT a douchebag, they will either explain their meaning more clearly for you until you understand, or repeat what they said a little more loudly or clearly so you can hear it, again, respectively.
However, it seems that there's been a recent trend of people acting absolutely retarded and saying "you know what I mean" (as a statement, not as a question), or "you heard me" in these situations.
Really? I know what you mean, eh? Funny, because usually in the course of normal human interactions, if I knew what you meant, I'm pretty sure I WOULDN'T BE ASKING FOR CLARIFICATION.
Oh? I heard you, did I? I mean, it's just that when I hear what people say, I don't tend to ask them to repeat it because I DIDN'T hear it.
Extreme circumstances can arise, most notably in textual communications (it's very hard to tell inflection and intent through purely textual communications), although there can be complications in face-to-face communications (especially if one or both of the conversation-havers are sarcastic and/or assholes). But barring that, if you say something to which I respond "what do you mean?" or "wait, what did you say?" FUCKING ANSWER ME SO WE CAN MOVE ON.
Jeeze man.
Oh. And by the way. This is the 150th post of this here steaming pile of shit. To all of you who have been here since day 1 (aka one or two of you, if that), and to all of you who have jumped on board and stayed (for whatever reason), all I have to say is . . .
I am so sorry.
Nah, I'm kidding. Thanks. All the times I've heard positive shit about this (and negative too - haters keep hatin' cuz I thrives off it!) has kept me going.
All that mushy shit aside, you've got homework. And you know what it is.
Stay classy
Sometimes, during the course of a conversation (textual or in person), you'll simply not understand something the other person says, or even worse, not hear it. In such situations, it's customary for you to say something along the lines of "what do you mean?" or "what did you say?" respectively.
If the person that you're talking to is NOT a douchebag, they will either explain their meaning more clearly for you until you understand, or repeat what they said a little more loudly or clearly so you can hear it, again, respectively.
However, it seems that there's been a recent trend of people acting absolutely retarded and saying "you know what I mean" (as a statement, not as a question), or "you heard me" in these situations.
Really? I know what you mean, eh? Funny, because usually in the course of normal human interactions, if I knew what you meant, I'm pretty sure I WOULDN'T BE ASKING FOR CLARIFICATION.
Oh? I heard you, did I? I mean, it's just that when I hear what people say, I don't tend to ask them to repeat it because I DIDN'T hear it.
Extreme circumstances can arise, most notably in textual communications (it's very hard to tell inflection and intent through purely textual communications), although there can be complications in face-to-face communications (especially if one or both of the conversation-havers are sarcastic and/or assholes). But barring that, if you say something to which I respond "what do you mean?" or "wait, what did you say?" FUCKING ANSWER ME SO WE CAN MOVE ON.
Jeeze man.
Oh. And by the way. This is the 150th post of this here steaming pile of shit. To all of you who have been here since day 1 (aka one or two of you, if that), and to all of you who have jumped on board and stayed (for whatever reason), all I have to say is . . .
I am so sorry.
Nah, I'm kidding. Thanks. All the times I've heard positive shit about this (and negative too - haters keep hatin' cuz I thrives off it!) has kept me going.
All that mushy shit aside, you've got homework. And you know what it is.
Stay classy
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
If Only You Could Speak as Well as You Write
Readership, I'm in a Theology course that emphasizes the connection between pagan literature and Biblical scripture. As such, we delve into some shit that might border on bullshit, and most of this stuff is in the form of written words (essays, written quizzes, message board postings, etc.)
People write some OD eloquent shit, I'm not gonna lie. But then, the professor asks them to read what they've written.
This is when the problems start.
"Like, what I'm, like, tryin' to like, say, is, like this is all, like, myths."
What the fuck? That sentence was ten words long, and you expanded it wholly unnecessarily to fifteen.
Fuckin' bullshit.
Stay classy
People write some OD eloquent shit, I'm not gonna lie. But then, the professor asks them to read what they've written.
This is when the problems start.
"Like, what I'm, like, tryin' to like, say, is, like this is all, like, myths."
What the fuck? That sentence was ten words long, and you expanded it wholly unnecessarily to fifteen.
Fuckin' bullshit.
Stay classy
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Yet ANOTHER Thing that I Hate
Yup, readership, I'm back with something else that pisses me off. You can add this to bottled water, newer Cartoon Network, the Land Before Time, people who act retarded, shoes that make noise, Nostradamus, Kanye West and stupidass commercials. My path to Lewis Black-ness is almost complete haha.
But I digress.
Something that I've noticed people doing a lot lately (not specifically this example, but this is the format) is as follows:
Person A: Do you want a Coke or a Dr. Pepper?
Person B: Yes.
Let us examine this bullshit for a moment. Person B has been given two options (which, I might add, are QUITE different), and instead of opting for one or the other, or even giving the much-hated "I don't care"/"surprise me" response (fucking HATE that), they've chosen to respond with "Yes." Yes what, dumbass?
PICK ONE YA FUCK.
And whatever you do
Stay classy
But I digress.
Something that I've noticed people doing a lot lately (not specifically this example, but this is the format) is as follows:
Person A: Do you want a Coke or a Dr. Pepper?
Person B: Yes.
Let us examine this bullshit for a moment. Person B has been given two options (which, I might add, are QUITE different), and instead of opting for one or the other, or even giving the much-hated "I don't care"/"surprise me" response (fucking HATE that), they've chosen to respond with "Yes." Yes what, dumbass?
PICK ONE YA FUCK.
And whatever you do
Stay classy
An Interesting Philosophical Question
Note: While this post operates on what I'll call "THE MAIN POINT" (which you'll see below), this is NOT a post against women, or a post degrading women. While I know in my heart of hearts that women (and more specifically, Vaginas) will bring on the end of the male half of the human race, the following bears no male chauvinistic hatred towards women, and is merely an observation and statement of an opinion which will (hopefully) make you laugh. End of commercial!
Readership, as a kgb_ Special Agent, I handle a lot of questions from the average American (and now, apparently the average UK resident as well). Some of them are normal, involving math, science, or English, or who starred in some movie. Others, however, are ridiculous. I'm not allowed to repeat the questions I find ridiculous outside of kgb_ because of the odd chance that the person who asked the question (technically in confidence with us at kgb_) will see their question and see me saying how ridiculous it was and feel bad and spread the word that kgb_ Special Agents are assholes and make us lose business, etc.
Anyway.
That said, every now and then, there's a question asked that is PURE GOLD, and as it happens, I have one such question currently, which I will put to you. I hope you're ready.
kgb_ customer: If you force sex on a hooker, is it considered rape or shoplifting?
Yes.
That was my reaction.
But before I go any further, allow me to acknowledge that LEGALLY, this is rape. As in, if you were to force sex on a hooker, and were arrested, you would be charged with rape, not shoplifting. The following is more of an Observationalist view than a legal view on the subject.
That said, let us examine this question by first defining our terms "hooker," "rape," and "shoplifting."
Thanks to good ol' Dictionary.com we can easily find those definitions. I'll define them quickly for you.
Hooker - slang n. prostitute
Rape - n. the unlawful compelling of a woman through physical force or duress to have sexual intercourse
Shoplifting - v. to steal (merchandise) as a shoplifter
Now, a hooker (or prostitute) renders sexual services for financial gain. Shoplifting (or stealing) entails getting services rendered or goods delivered and not enduring any (immediate) negative financial repercussions.
THE MAIN POINT: Hookers are criminals, and as such, give up most of their rights when they become hookers. That might sound fucked up, but to everyone who says "that's not right, Fred the Observer! You're fucked up man!" think about this: whenever you see a hooker, do you immediately try to befriend them? Or are you like "fuck this hooker, me and my bros/hos are gonna mess up her day!"? Of course you think the latter. Any responsible American would.
And I don't wanna hear shit about "ohh they have their children to feed and they're raising the kid by themselves cuz the baby daddy left" fuck that shit. If you weren't a loose hussy, you wouldn't have the kid in the first place, so having a kid is no reason to be a hooker (MAYBE a stripper, but not a hooker).
That said, I believe that forcing sex on a hooker is shoplifting. You're stealing a service that you'd normally pay for.
Fucked up? Perhaps. But you won't have to worry about any of this if you just do one simple thing.
What is that thing? Oh readership, you already know.
Stay classy
Readership, as a kgb_ Special Agent, I handle a lot of questions from the average American (and now, apparently the average UK resident as well). Some of them are normal, involving math, science, or English, or who starred in some movie. Others, however, are ridiculous. I'm not allowed to repeat the questions I find ridiculous outside of kgb_ because of the odd chance that the person who asked the question (technically in confidence with us at kgb_) will see their question and see me saying how ridiculous it was and feel bad and spread the word that kgb_ Special Agents are assholes and make us lose business, etc.
Anyway.
That said, every now and then, there's a question asked that is PURE GOLD, and as it happens, I have one such question currently, which I will put to you. I hope you're ready.
kgb_ customer: If you force sex on a hooker, is it considered rape or shoplifting?
Yes.
That was my reaction.
But before I go any further, allow me to acknowledge that LEGALLY, this is rape. As in, if you were to force sex on a hooker, and were arrested, you would be charged with rape, not shoplifting. The following is more of an Observationalist view than a legal view on the subject.
That said, let us examine this question by first defining our terms "hooker," "rape," and "shoplifting."
Thanks to good ol' Dictionary.com we can easily find those definitions. I'll define them quickly for you.
Hooker - slang n. prostitute
Rape - n. the unlawful compelling of a woman through physical force or duress to have sexual intercourse
Shoplifting - v. to steal (merchandise) as a shoplifter
Now, a hooker (or prostitute) renders sexual services for financial gain. Shoplifting (or stealing) entails getting services rendered or goods delivered and not enduring any (immediate) negative financial repercussions.
THE MAIN POINT: Hookers are criminals, and as such, give up most of their rights when they become hookers. That might sound fucked up, but to everyone who says "that's not right, Fred the Observer! You're fucked up man!" think about this: whenever you see a hooker, do you immediately try to befriend them? Or are you like "fuck this hooker, me and my bros/hos are gonna mess up her day!"? Of course you think the latter. Any responsible American would.
And I don't wanna hear shit about "ohh they have their children to feed and they're raising the kid by themselves cuz the baby daddy left" fuck that shit. If you weren't a loose hussy, you wouldn't have the kid in the first place, so having a kid is no reason to be a hooker (MAYBE a stripper, but not a hooker).
That said, I believe that forcing sex on a hooker is shoplifting. You're stealing a service that you'd normally pay for.
Fucked up? Perhaps. But you won't have to worry about any of this if you just do one simple thing.
What is that thing? Oh readership, you already know.
Stay classy
Friday, October 30, 2009
Boobies
That got your attention, didn't it? Thought so.
But this post is only about 40% about boobies. The other 60% is about some booby-related shit that troubled me greatly. Let me explain.
First off, the product is called Easy Curves. It's this little stick thing that costs $9.99 and looks like a racing baton, with two pistons (one on each side). What females do is they hold the pistons and squeeze them into the baton and then pull them out again, and then repeat. What THAT does is, on average, increase bust size from 36.4 inches to 37.2 inches in 30 days.
Now I'm sure many of you are reading this and thinking something along the lines of "why does a machine that only costs $9.99 (plus shipping and handling) and increases the size of the b00bz bother you so, Fred the Observer?"
And to be honest, I don't really know how to answer the question. Besides the fact that boobies are awesome pretty much 100% of the time and all these shenanigans with shaping and shit are (in my opinion) pretty unnecessary, I dunno.
I think, actually, that the motion is what bothers me the most. That, coupled with the expression on the demonstration chick's face on the home page of the website (linked above). She looks like . . . I dunno. Like she's fixin' to bust a nut or something. Whatever the "official" description of her expression is, it's DEFINITELY not the expression that one would expect one to have when using such a machine.
Be happy with your boobies ladies!
Shit, I am.
Hehe.
Stay classy
But this post is only about 40% about boobies. The other 60% is about some booby-related shit that troubled me greatly. Let me explain.
First off, the product is called Easy Curves. It's this little stick thing that costs $9.99 and looks like a racing baton, with two pistons (one on each side). What females do is they hold the pistons and squeeze them into the baton and then pull them out again, and then repeat. What THAT does is, on average, increase bust size from 36.4 inches to 37.2 inches in 30 days.
Now I'm sure many of you are reading this and thinking something along the lines of "why does a machine that only costs $9.99 (plus shipping and handling) and increases the size of the b00bz bother you so, Fred the Observer?"
And to be honest, I don't really know how to answer the question. Besides the fact that boobies are awesome pretty much 100% of the time and all these shenanigans with shaping and shit are (in my opinion) pretty unnecessary, I dunno.
I think, actually, that the motion is what bothers me the most. That, coupled with the expression on the demonstration chick's face on the home page of the website (linked above). She looks like . . . I dunno. Like she's fixin' to bust a nut or something. Whatever the "official" description of her expression is, it's DEFINITELY not the expression that one would expect one to have when using such a machine.
Be happy with your boobies ladies!
Shit, I am.
Hehe.
Stay classy
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
That's YOUR Job!
Readership, I'm currently sitting in a core science class (Science Inquiry: Energy), where the teacher is ridiculous. After dropping some ol' profound scientific shit, she'll look around with this empty sorta smile on her face, see that we have no fucking clue what she's talking about, and then follow it with "is that right?"
The fuck? You tell me, teach.
That brings back memories of the two dumbest teachers I ever had. Note how I said "dumbest" and not "worst." These two, while they were about as smart as my right asscheek, were hilarious fun to be in class with, and I actually did learn stuff, so they weren't "bad" teachers, they were just "dumb."
Anyway.
I had a teacher for seventh grade Social Studies, whose first name was Vanessa (I figure I'll protect their identities a little better by giving their first names because everyone knows their last names haha). She was mildly attractive (for an idiot), but she was so dumb it was almost painful. If you'll recall, in seventh grade Social Studies we studied early non-ancient history (aka like right after all that BC shit). We started the year with a quick review, and the discussion came to the Roman Colosseum. She got very excited, snatched up the chalk from the shelf, and started to write it on the blackboard.
R . . . o . . . m, a . . . n . . . K--
Whoa wait? Since when is "Colosseum" spelled with a fucking K?
I have more stories about good ol' Vanessa, but I'll leave those for another time. The next teacher, while infinitely sexier than Vanessa, was also twice as dumb.
Good ol' Lisa (once again, first name basis here, to protect the idiot - I mean, innocent) was my 11th grade Pre-Calculus teacher. When she wasn't flirting with another teacher (who just happened to be married, and had a hot wife, though that's just hearsay as I've never seen her), she was trying her best to teach us Pre-Calculus. She was one of those "I'm gonna write everything on the overhead and then you write it down too" teachers. I sat in the front row, right on the other side of the projector, with my friend Twevito.
There was one time that Lisa spent about ten minutes trying to solve an equation that she had given us for homework the night before. And she COULD NOT DO IT. So she said "screw it, I can't do this anymore."
And we sat there.
FOR FORTY MINUTES!
Fuckin' Lisa.
Stay classy
The fuck? You tell me, teach.
That brings back memories of the two dumbest teachers I ever had. Note how I said "dumbest" and not "worst." These two, while they were about as smart as my right asscheek, were hilarious fun to be in class with, and I actually did learn stuff, so they weren't "bad" teachers, they were just "dumb."
Anyway.
I had a teacher for seventh grade Social Studies, whose first name was Vanessa (I figure I'll protect their identities a little better by giving their first names because everyone knows their last names haha). She was mildly attractive (for an idiot), but she was so dumb it was almost painful. If you'll recall, in seventh grade Social Studies we studied early non-ancient history (aka like right after all that BC shit). We started the year with a quick review, and the discussion came to the Roman Colosseum. She got very excited, snatched up the chalk from the shelf, and started to write it on the blackboard.
R . . . o . . . m, a . . . n . . . K--
Whoa wait? Since when is "Colosseum" spelled with a fucking K?
I have more stories about good ol' Vanessa, but I'll leave those for another time. The next teacher, while infinitely sexier than Vanessa, was also twice as dumb.
Good ol' Lisa (once again, first name basis here, to protect the idiot - I mean, innocent) was my 11th grade Pre-Calculus teacher. When she wasn't flirting with another teacher (who just happened to be married, and had a hot wife, though that's just hearsay as I've never seen her), she was trying her best to teach us Pre-Calculus. She was one of those "I'm gonna write everything on the overhead and then you write it down too" teachers. I sat in the front row, right on the other side of the projector, with my friend Twevito.
There was one time that Lisa spent about ten minutes trying to solve an equation that she had given us for homework the night before. And she COULD NOT DO IT. So she said "screw it, I can't do this anymore."
And we sat there.
FOR FORTY MINUTES!
Fuckin' Lisa.
Stay classy
Monday, October 19, 2009
The One Trump Card We Have
Readership, if you'll recall, my roommate Waffles and I have predicted that the existence of mankind (just the male aspect) will come to an end at the hands (lips?) of Vagina. And if you won't recall, you should read this . . . and then drop 'n gimme fifty.
Anyway.
Faced with the knowledge that our half of the species will inevitably become either enslaved or extinct because of Vagina, Waffles and I decided that something had to be done. As Men, we had to make sure that if we were goin' down, we weren't gonna go down like no bitchass nyukkas.
So we sat down and brainstormed. And brainstormed. And thought. And thought some more.
And then we discovered the solution - the one trump card that we could ever have against the menace that is ({}).
Chocolate.
Flavored.
Semen.
Stay classy
Anyway.
Faced with the knowledge that our half of the species will inevitably become either enslaved or extinct because of Vagina, Waffles and I decided that something had to be done. As Men, we had to make sure that if we were goin' down, we weren't gonna go down like no bitchass nyukkas.
So we sat down and brainstormed. And brainstormed. And thought. And thought some more.
And then we discovered the solution - the one trump card that we could ever have against the menace that is ({}).
Chocolate.
Flavored.
Semen.
Stay classy
Abortion
Readership, the constant and highly controversial debate over abortion is, in my humble opinion, fucking retarded. This statement might piss a few of you off. Did it piss you off?
Good.
People need to get pissed off. That's the only way shit changes.
But I digress.
Abortion is, to put it simply, the killing of an unborn fetus while it's still in the womb. Usually an abortion is used for "accidental" pregnancies (i.e. "we were drunk" or "the condom broke," etc.).
I don't like abortions. But in my dislike for them, I realize something else. Let me spell it out real nice for you.
Unless either A) I'm a blood relative of the woman considering having an abortion or B) I put the baby INSIDE the woman considering having an abortion, MY OPINION DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER. What I absolutely HATE is when people try to convince other people not to have an abortion, or to have an abortion. WHO THE FUCK CARES WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THIS? Is it YOUR child? Are YOU gonna be paying for all the food and clothes and diapers and school and doctors visits and all that? FUCK no you're not.
Let me be perfectly clear. It's one thing to express your opinion. The First Amendment of our Constitution allows for freedom of speech, and the fact that it's the FIRST Amendment tells you how important our Founding Fathers thought it was to have such a freedom. And furthermore, if you'll note this very post, above, you'll see that I myself expressed my opinion, and said "I don't like abortions." So I'm NOT against people expressing their opinion; it's what this country was born to do.
All that said, it is another thing ENTIRELY to attempt to foist your opinion on someone else. Like the fucking decision isn't difficult ENOUGH already? You feel the need to make these people feel even worse? Fuck you.
Once again. If you're not either A) Related to the mother, B) Responsible for the child, or C) Willing to pay 100% of the expenses that bringing the child into the world will accrue (food, medical, clothing, diapers, etc.), then guess what?
YOU HAVE NO SAY. Leave the potential parents to make their fucking decision in peace.
And God, whatever you assholes do, PLEASE . . .
Stay classy
Good.
People need to get pissed off. That's the only way shit changes.
But I digress.
Abortion is, to put it simply, the killing of an unborn fetus while it's still in the womb. Usually an abortion is used for "accidental" pregnancies (i.e. "we were drunk" or "the condom broke," etc.).
I don't like abortions. But in my dislike for them, I realize something else. Let me spell it out real nice for you.
Unless either A) I'm a blood relative of the woman considering having an abortion or B) I put the baby INSIDE the woman considering having an abortion, MY OPINION DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER. What I absolutely HATE is when people try to convince other people not to have an abortion, or to have an abortion. WHO THE FUCK CARES WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THIS? Is it YOUR child? Are YOU gonna be paying for all the food and clothes and diapers and school and doctors visits and all that? FUCK no you're not.
Let me be perfectly clear. It's one thing to express your opinion. The First Amendment of our Constitution allows for freedom of speech, and the fact that it's the FIRST Amendment tells you how important our Founding Fathers thought it was to have such a freedom. And furthermore, if you'll note this very post, above, you'll see that I myself expressed my opinion, and said "I don't like abortions." So I'm NOT against people expressing their opinion; it's what this country was born to do.
All that said, it is another thing ENTIRELY to attempt to foist your opinion on someone else. Like the fucking decision isn't difficult ENOUGH already? You feel the need to make these people feel even worse? Fuck you.
Once again. If you're not either A) Related to the mother, B) Responsible for the child, or C) Willing to pay 100% of the expenses that bringing the child into the world will accrue (food, medical, clothing, diapers, etc.), then guess what?
YOU HAVE NO SAY. Leave the potential parents to make their fucking decision in peace.
And God, whatever you assholes do, PLEASE . . .
Stay classy
"With Extreme Prejudice" - You Guessed it, Another WTF?
Readership, before I get into this Observation, let me say this. There is a LOT of shit going on in my life right now (most of it on the so-so side of the line, leaning towards FML). Of all that stuff, the one thing I can actually do anything about is a major essay (a midterm essay, in fact) that's due in my History class tomorrow night at 6:50 . . . an essay, mind you, that I haven't started. I have full confidence that I'll finish it before the deadline, but in the meantime, in true "stupidass college kid throwing his education away" fashion, I'm going to procrastinate by writing this (and perchance, even more Observations!?). So yeah. Enjoy the fruits of my procrastination/fucking-up-my-life-ery.
Anyway.
The phrase "with extreme prejudice" has always baffled me just a little bit. It's just an awkward phrase - look at it: EXTREME prejudice? Is there another, lesser, not-as-extreme version of prejudice? I wasn't around during the Civil Rights Movement and all that, but from what I've read about it, shit got pretty extreme - I mean it doesn't get much more extreme than tear gas, German Shepherds and high-pressure hoses, does it?
The term comes up a lot in military applications, and thus comes up a lot MORE in military-themed video games. I played one such game (I think it was SOCOM Fireteam Bravo on PSP), where my main objective was to infiltrate a known terrorist stronghold and neutralize the cell "with extreme prejudice." To put that in layman's terms, they wanted me to sneak into the bad guys' hideout and kill them all REALLY REALLY HARD. Which is ridiculous. Think about it - how the hell am I supposed to kill them HARD? There aren't degrees of death. Either you're dead or you're alive.
I can understand saying something like "take no prisoners" which would put me in the mind that if it moves, breathes and might have a gun, it's cool for me to shoot it repeatedly until it doesn't move or breathe anymore. But "neutralize the cell with extreme prejudice" is just silly. What do you want me to do, shoot the terrorists dead and then defecate on their bodies? Really, what more can I do to them after they're dead?
So yeah. "With extreme prejudice" is a stupid term. Bitches.
Stay classy
Anyway.
The phrase "with extreme prejudice" has always baffled me just a little bit. It's just an awkward phrase - look at it: EXTREME prejudice? Is there another, lesser, not-as-extreme version of prejudice? I wasn't around during the Civil Rights Movement and all that, but from what I've read about it, shit got pretty extreme - I mean it doesn't get much more extreme than tear gas, German Shepherds and high-pressure hoses, does it?
The term comes up a lot in military applications, and thus comes up a lot MORE in military-themed video games. I played one such game (I think it was SOCOM Fireteam Bravo on PSP), where my main objective was to infiltrate a known terrorist stronghold and neutralize the cell "with extreme prejudice." To put that in layman's terms, they wanted me to sneak into the bad guys' hideout and kill them all REALLY REALLY HARD. Which is ridiculous. Think about it - how the hell am I supposed to kill them HARD? There aren't degrees of death. Either you're dead or you're alive.
I can understand saying something like "take no prisoners" which would put me in the mind that if it moves, breathes and might have a gun, it's cool for me to shoot it repeatedly until it doesn't move or breathe anymore. But "neutralize the cell with extreme prejudice" is just silly. What do you want me to do, shoot the terrorists dead and then defecate on their bodies? Really, what more can I do to them after they're dead?
So yeah. "With extreme prejudice" is a stupid term. Bitches.
Stay classy
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Idiots . . .
Readership, I'm gonna be quick with this one A) because I'm tired as HELL and B) because I'm trying to peep this Yankee game.But I promised my cousin, electronics and computer guy, creative partner, supplier of all things, and all-around badass Jay that I would bitch about this. And bitch I shall.
Notice, if you will, the picture above. This sign is attached to a wrought-iron gate that's closed 99% of the time, which "guards" the shared driveway between my cousin's house and the neighbor's house. The neighbors, who act as if they're severely retarded, made this sign.
Now, I'm not sure how many of you live in New York (City or State), but for the benefit of those who don't, I'll say this: dialing 311 in New York will give you NY Information. In Connecticut, and most other states (as far as I know), the number to dial for Information is 411 (hence the phrase, "what's the 411?").
In case you haven't gotten the point yet, let me lay it out. These dumb fucks, in an attempt to intimidate anybody who would think "hmm this looks like a good place to park" (because between my cousin, my aunt and my grandma - the three people who live in the house - NONE OF THEM HAVE A CAR), threatened to call Information if someone parks in the driveway.
"Information, how may I help you?"
"There is a car parked illegally in the driveway!"
"Well sir, not to be rude, but WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT?"
". . . oh shit, this is Information. Not the police."
"No shit. Have a nice day."
Click!
Anyway. There you go Jay. Keep it pimpin' pimpin',
And as for the rest of you.
Stay classy
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Shoes That Make Noise
BUG THE SHIT OUTTA ME. I dunno how people wear shoes that make a loud noise EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU TAKE A STEP (unless they're tap dancers. I fucks with that). As a ninja, I move silently all day every day. If with every step I took, I made so much fuckin' noise, I'd have to kill someone.
Sheesh.
Stay classy
Sheesh.
Stay classy
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
THE APOCALYPSE!
Readership, for the past few years, I'm sure you've been hearing about how the Mayans supposedly predicted that the world as we know it would cease to exist in the near future - specifically, on Friday December 21, 2012. Everyone has SOMETHING to say about it, whether it's Bible-thumpers that are saying the Mayans are full of shit, or so-called "scholars" that say that there is a high probability that this might happen, given the past history of the Mayans and their predictions, or the followers of Nostradamus (who apparently predicted every bad thing that's ever happened in the last few centuries), or the fucking geniuses that are milking the whole 12/21/2012 thing for all its worth by making a movie about it (which I'll probably see).
However, they're all full of shit. And what's better, I can prove it. A bold claim, you say? Do I hear a clamor for evidence? Fuck yeah I do. And I've got it. Read on!
Let's talk about these Nostradamus-following idiots - but first, let's play a quick little game. It's called "Completely Nonsensical Statement or Nostradamus' Prophecy?" The way you play the game is pretty simple. Below, I'm going to give you four statements. Your job is to guess if each statement is either A) a completely nonsensical statement or B) a prophecy made by the apparently omniscient Michele de Nostradame (aka Nostradamus). Simple enough right? Ready? Okay - go!
1. Sitting alone at night in secret study; it is placed on the brass tripod. A slight flame comes out of emptiness and makes successful that which should not be believed in vain.
2. The cry of the child is only heard by the few; the silence by the many. With great winds the third day will come and with it darkness that only the light can cure.
3. Through anger and internal hatreds, the exiles will hatch a plot against the king. Secretly they will place enemies as a threat, and his own old adherents will find sedition against them.
4. The prince of light will return in a time of sadness. He will alight upon his palace, only to find it cloaked in darkness and full of woe.
So there you have it. Four statements. Now it's your turn to try and discover which ones are completely nonsensical statements and which ones are actual prophecies from Nostradamus.
Stumped? Okay, here are the answers: 1. Nostradamus; 2. Completely nonsensical statement; 3. Nostradamus; 4. Completely nonsensical statement.
The point I'm trying to make here is, if I hadn't told you which was which, would you have been able to tell the difference - DEFINITIVELY? That means without guessing and just happening to be right. If you can, power to you. But if, as I believe, you can't, then what the hell are you worried about? Some nonsense that can be interpreted freely and differently by almost anyone reading it?
Now, let's look at the Mayans. We all know that their calendar ends December 21, 2012, but that's it. Just because their calendar ends, doesn't mean the WORLD ends. When the Spanish invaded the Mayan lands, they burned almost every book and scripture they could find. So, based on that, a second Mayan calendar, going from December 22, 2012 to some far-future date, COULD have existed, but was just lost in the burnings.
But let's say that the Mayans DID predict apocalypse on December 21, 2012 (WHICH THEY DIDN'T). Apocalypse doesn't necessarily mean the literal "end" of the world. It could mean the end of an aspect of the world, or a revelation, or an end to the old and the bad and a bringing in of the new and the good. By that definition, for example, during the time of the Emancipation Proclamation and the end of slavery, for the slaveowners it was definitely an apocalypse. The old way of evil slavery was abolished, bringing in a new way of good freedom (which, as it happened, would take quite a bit more time afterward to actually bring to 100% fruition).
So yeah. Shut the fuck up about all this 2012 shit. And really, if it's written in some cosmic book that we're all going to die on December 21, 2012, and it's gonna happen and there's nothing we can do about it, then fuck it - stop worrying. It won't help. We've all gotta die someday.
Man the fuck up!
And whatever you do
Stay classy
However, they're all full of shit. And what's better, I can prove it. A bold claim, you say? Do I hear a clamor for evidence? Fuck yeah I do. And I've got it. Read on!
Let's talk about these Nostradamus-following idiots - but first, let's play a quick little game. It's called "Completely Nonsensical Statement or Nostradamus' Prophecy?" The way you play the game is pretty simple. Below, I'm going to give you four statements. Your job is to guess if each statement is either A) a completely nonsensical statement or B) a prophecy made by the apparently omniscient Michele de Nostradame (aka Nostradamus). Simple enough right? Ready? Okay - go!
1. Sitting alone at night in secret study; it is placed on the brass tripod. A slight flame comes out of emptiness and makes successful that which should not be believed in vain.
2. The cry of the child is only heard by the few; the silence by the many. With great winds the third day will come and with it darkness that only the light can cure.
3. Through anger and internal hatreds, the exiles will hatch a plot against the king. Secretly they will place enemies as a threat, and his own old adherents will find sedition against them.
4. The prince of light will return in a time of sadness. He will alight upon his palace, only to find it cloaked in darkness and full of woe.
So there you have it. Four statements. Now it's your turn to try and discover which ones are completely nonsensical statements and which ones are actual prophecies from Nostradamus.
Stumped? Okay, here are the answers: 1. Nostradamus; 2. Completely nonsensical statement; 3. Nostradamus; 4. Completely nonsensical statement.
The point I'm trying to make here is, if I hadn't told you which was which, would you have been able to tell the difference - DEFINITIVELY? That means without guessing and just happening to be right. If you can, power to you. But if, as I believe, you can't, then what the hell are you worried about? Some nonsense that can be interpreted freely and differently by almost anyone reading it?
Now, let's look at the Mayans. We all know that their calendar ends December 21, 2012, but that's it. Just because their calendar ends, doesn't mean the WORLD ends. When the Spanish invaded the Mayan lands, they burned almost every book and scripture they could find. So, based on that, a second Mayan calendar, going from December 22, 2012 to some far-future date, COULD have existed, but was just lost in the burnings.
But let's say that the Mayans DID predict apocalypse on December 21, 2012 (WHICH THEY DIDN'T). Apocalypse doesn't necessarily mean the literal "end" of the world. It could mean the end of an aspect of the world, or a revelation, or an end to the old and the bad and a bringing in of the new and the good. By that definition, for example, during the time of the Emancipation Proclamation and the end of slavery, for the slaveowners it was definitely an apocalypse. The old way of evil slavery was abolished, bringing in a new way of good freedom (which, as it happened, would take quite a bit more time afterward to actually bring to 100% fruition).
So yeah. Shut the fuck up about all this 2012 shit. And really, if it's written in some cosmic book that we're all going to die on December 21, 2012, and it's gonna happen and there's nothing we can do about it, then fuck it - stop worrying. It won't help. We've all gotta die someday.
Man the fuck up!
And whatever you do
Stay classy
Sunday, October 4, 2009
A Revelation
Readership, I'll be honest with you - there are many things in this world that I don't understand. According to Socrates, that makes me quite intelligent. Let's hope so.
But I digress.
One of these things that I don't understand is how women wear shoes that they KNOW hurt their feet immensely. I recently had a discussion about just that with R n' R, which went a little like this:
Me: Why do you wear shoes that you KNOW hurt your feet?
Her: They're cute.
Me: But they hurt your feet.
Her: But they're cute, and they make me a few inches taller [side note, she's about 5'2" barefoot]
Me: But THEY HURT YOUR FEET. Does that not matter?
Her: They're cute. That's all that matters.
By that logic, as long as it looks good, women will do/wear something painful and deal with the pain with a smile. Men, however, don't play that shit. If something we're wearing is causing us physical pain, UNLESS WEARING IT SIGNIFICANTLY INCREASES OUR CHANCES OF A SEXUAL ENCOUNTER (in ALL seriousness, I say that with the utmost respect for all the beautiful women out there), we're taking that shit off ASAP.
It's really that simple.
So I got to thinking about this, and then my Psychology Major skills kicked in and I drew a very interesting and sensible conclusion.
Women knowingly and purposefully wear shoes that hurt them, in a subconscious attempt to build up a high pain tolerance for the dreadfully terrible pain that's involved in childbirth.
If your mind has just been blown out the back of your head and is splattered against the wall behind you, don't worry. You're not alone.
While you're cleaning that up, though, I'm out. Got laundry and essays to do.
Stay classy
But I digress.
One of these things that I don't understand is how women wear shoes that they KNOW hurt their feet immensely. I recently had a discussion about just that with R n' R, which went a little like this:
Me: Why do you wear shoes that you KNOW hurt your feet?
Her: They're cute.
Me: But they hurt your feet.
Her: But they're cute, and they make me a few inches taller [side note, she's about 5'2" barefoot]
Me: But THEY HURT YOUR FEET. Does that not matter?
Her: They're cute. That's all that matters.
By that logic, as long as it looks good, women will do/wear something painful and deal with the pain with a smile. Men, however, don't play that shit. If something we're wearing is causing us physical pain, UNLESS WEARING IT SIGNIFICANTLY INCREASES OUR CHANCES OF A SEXUAL ENCOUNTER (in ALL seriousness, I say that with the utmost respect for all the beautiful women out there), we're taking that shit off ASAP.
It's really that simple.
So I got to thinking about this, and then my Psychology Major skills kicked in and I drew a very interesting and sensible conclusion.
Women knowingly and purposefully wear shoes that hurt them, in a subconscious attempt to build up a high pain tolerance for the dreadfully terrible pain that's involved in childbirth.
If your mind has just been blown out the back of your head and is splattered against the wall behind you, don't worry. You're not alone.
While you're cleaning that up, though, I'm out. Got laundry and essays to do.
Stay classy
Thursday, October 1, 2009
To All My Indian/Arab Brothers
Note: This, like this, is not a racist post. Really. I have Indian and Arab friends. From sixth to eighth grade one of my best friends (and partners in crime) was Arab. I know a hilarious Indian kid back home. Once again, if you know me, you know I'm not racist, I'm just telling it like it is. And once again, if you don't know me and think I'm being racist, you know what you can go do to yourself.
End of commercial!
As the title of the post implies, this post goes out to all my Indian and Arab brothers. I'm gonna be straight with you guys - just because you're Indian and Arab does NOT make you sexy as fuck, nor does it make you badass, nor does it make you "the shit." I mean having self-confidence is one thing (and power to you if you have it, because that takes a certain caliber of person). But when you're just cocky as hell and think you're God's gift to the world, I have to put my foot down. And when I hear you guys calling each other "nigga," I have to put my foot down hard.
Just sayin'. I love you guys (no rainbow, as A-Ham aka Tenth Sheisty says), but you need to chill the fuck out.
And everybody, you know what all of YOU need to do
Stay classy
End of commercial!
As the title of the post implies, this post goes out to all my Indian and Arab brothers. I'm gonna be straight with you guys - just because you're Indian and Arab does NOT make you sexy as fuck, nor does it make you badass, nor does it make you "the shit." I mean having self-confidence is one thing (and power to you if you have it, because that takes a certain caliber of person). But when you're just cocky as hell and think you're God's gift to the world, I have to put my foot down. And when I hear you guys calling each other "nigga," I have to put my foot down hard.
Just sayin'. I love you guys (no rainbow, as A-Ham aka Tenth Sheisty says), but you need to chill the fuck out.
And everybody, you know what all of YOU need to do
Stay classy
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