Many of you may not know about the band Ween, but I think that there song “Where’d the Cheese Go?” might either sum them up, or perhaps give you a good introduction. You see, it was created for Pizza Hut‘s “The Insider” ad campaign, but rejected.
Ween was introduced to me by David Gruneisen, and after listening to the varied tracks he had on his MP3 share at Corvus, I came to appreciate their oddity.
Hey mister, won’t you please help my pony?
special thanks to Geoff for pointing this out!
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i don’t want to say that i’m a bad person — but i placed bets on the behavior of a homeless man last night at the outlook inn.
there was a girl across the street and she and her dog-toting boyfriend were locked into conversation with a local homeless guy for about a good 20 minutes.
it all started when i said “i’ve got a dollar that says that the conversation ends in 2 minutes”.
hunter said “5″.
brad hack said “3 minutes”.
another said “4″.
basic rules were set down. conversation must end by both parties walking away. at 3 minutes, 10 seconds — “the hack zone”, as it were — girl attempts breakaway, hack claims victory. but WAIT! homeless man reinitiates, hack cringes, feels his 3 dollars drifting away like a bottle in the sea.
it is ruled that conversation never ended. 3 minutes 20 seconds passes, and we are all in the grip of the situation. hack whispering under his breath “walk away, walk away” — the man at 4 minutes hoping for more… the seconds tick by, my gaze shifting in half-second intervals — secondhand / disturbing social experiment / secondhand / disturbing social experiment…
at 3 minutes 25 — girl turns away, homeless man does the same, and conversation is ruled overwith! there is a loud commotion as we revel in the excitement of our disturbing social experiment. others in the bar swoop to the window — wondering what our exitment is all about. hack swipes his cash from the table like a man catching a fly — “the next game of pool is on me, boys!”
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from the Metafilter:
Oh, emails sent in rage. If I had a nickel every time I sent an email I regretted later on… possibly even minutes later, I could at least buy myself a soda. However, none of my emails stack up to the “Kelly Tripplehorn ‘You Suck’” email. Tripplehorn, a now ex-intern for U.S. Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison (and a defensive tackle for the Amherst College football team) sent a ridiculously vicious email to a girlfriend that included such rousing verse as:
“Michele I am sorry, I don’t care how big of sadistic [f-bomb]ed up crush you have on me but people like me simple don’t date people like you.”
“But guess what Michele, you will never move up the ladder because I am at the top and people like me hate people like you.”
whew… just wait, there’s more!
“In the end, all I can say is that people love me and people hate you. You should observe me and take a few notes on how to make real friends.”
Oh man. Wow. That is just fan-tastic. And those quotes aren’t even out-of-context! The context is this: he’s a jackass!
This is almost better than that Peter Chung Asian hooker email, or perhaps even the Miss Kim’s Date has a small boat email, or the Doing Jack [S-bomb] for $2400 a week email or the…. geez. What is it with well to-do young folk and their lack of email scruples?
Oh, back to our boy “Tripplehorny” — check out a photo of him in The Washington Times (with complimentary article)! Nice Polo, jackass!
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This may be the best hamster name ever.
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so, i was walking through the parking lot of a neighborhood Kroger grocery store today, and I saw a heavily-stickered car. Reading further, I saw quite a few religious statements of the Christian variety. Yes, the Darwin fish being eaten by the Truth fish (or maybe it was Jesus) — either way, Creationism was the ideal set forth. Right next to that was a large sticker stating:
[that we better get] “Back to the Bible, or it’s Back to the Jungle”.
Now, I don’t know what they intended by this “Jungle” thing.
This states that we were, at one time, in the jungle — like the apes that we didn’t come from due to evolution. Yeah. Ah well. Most cars don’t inspire such thought.
Thank you, giant-Christian-stickered-car!
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Clicky for a transcript of Will Ferrell’s Harvard Class Day Speech. Found by m@.
Dust in the wind, you’re shiny little very smart pieces of dust in the wind.
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Today at work, I received this memo from our commander-in-chief:
Gentlemen
Some of you know that the urinal in the Corvus men’s room will occasionally get stuck in the “flush” position and overflow onto the floor. When it occurs (once or twice a year at this point), the only remedy (short of shutting off all water to the building) is the following:
- Grab or grasp the flathead screwdriver above the bathroom’s fluorescent light fixture.
- Remove the chrome “nut” (no comments necessary) – that should be only finger tight – from the front of the urinal plumbing.
- Turn the embedded screw clockwise until the water to the urinal is shut off and the overflow ceases.
- Look down at your now-wet shoes and quietly mutter “damn”.
- With the screwdriver, tap on the bulbous area behind the nut (again – no comment necessary) to loosen any hard water particles that may have caused the overflow in the first place.
- Carefully – turn the water back on, replace the nut and go on about your business. If for some reason, it begins to overflow again, shut it back off, make and post appropriate signage and contact the local authorities.
By working together comrades, we can assure a dry shoe future for ourselves and future generations.
(And by the way, if someone accidentally removes the official Corvus men’s room flathead screwdriver from it’s appointed place, we may find ourselves, literally, up sh*t creek without a paddle – well… p*ss creek anyway.)
BTW, I should note that where he mentions “turning the water off to the entire building” is not only funny, but entirely true — and yes, we scrambled to find a screwdriver the first couple of times it happened.
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