Tag Archives: humor

All the Cops in the Donut Shop Say “GO BACK TO YOUR HOMES OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO USE TEAR GAS TO DISPERSE THE CROWD”

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The other day, somewhere in Cairo, an old janitor swept up some dirt and rubble into a dustpan. His back strained as he leaned down to pick it up and dump it in a trash can. Once the task was done, he wiped the sweat off his brow and said “there! That’s the last of the mess from the revolution. Now to take a well deserved vacation.” Poor guy didn’t even see it coming.



Shit’s going down in Egypt once again as protests are erupting all over the country over recently elected president Mohamed Morsi issuing a decree that granted him a bunch of new powers. He has stated that the increase in power is only temporary to ensure the smooth drafting and ratification of the new democracy’s constitution.



Because, you know, nothing protects a democracy like giving one man Executive, Legislative and Judicial power.



I’m not sure why this guy thinks nobody’d bat an eye to this. Maybe because he’s the scariest looking politician this side of Putin –



President Brickhouse here looks like Zangief and Wilford Brimley had a middle eastern steroid baby.




Or because he has the backing of the Muslim Brotherhood. Whatever the reason. The people are a protestin’ and now it’s all a question of whether or not there’s going to be a revolution. Could be, since Egypt seems to just love having revolutions. Here’s just a brief look at some of Egypt’s revoltings in the last 100 years.


BRITISH REVOLUTION: 1919
Oh hey England used to own Egypt! Then they had a revolution and England backed off! Just like us! Revolution buddies!

Unlike the U.S.A, Egypt transitioned to a parlimentary monarchy and let British people hang around and run some shit. Bad move, Egypt. You’re just going to have to have another revolution in a few decades. Oh and hey look –



EGYPTIAN REVOLUTION: 1952
Sick of the corruption of their obese, corrupt and narcissistic King Farouk (actual official title: “His Majesty Farouk I, by the grace of God, King of Egypt and Sudan, Sovereign of Nubia, of Kordofan, and of Darfur.”) Farouk was exiled and his infant son Faud was made king. Faud reigned for a year before the Egyptian people realized that having a king is a huge responsibility that they’re just not mature enough to handle. After realizing that the best solution for both them and Faud’s future would be to give him up for abdication, they left him on the steps of Switzerland, rang the doorbell and ran off.



PRINCE AND THE REVOLUTION: 1999
Okay, I was working on a gag for this but the only video I could find for Prince’s 1999 had no sound. Apparently the copyright holders asked to have the audio removed but the video’s still there. It’s actually really creepy to watch in complete silence –



[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQu-yU_cAbw&w=420&h=315]



ARAB SPRING: 2011
Oh hey this was the one in the news last year! Now we’re all caught up.



For more information on Egyptian revolutions, read the international news in the next few weeks.


Build a Better Child Trap…

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Hello, readers! How was your Thanksgiving? I spent mine with the in-laws, relatively drama free, while my husband was in North Dakota telling his jokes and singing shitty karaoke songs.

What neither of us did over the holiday was rescue a trapped child from a laundry chute.

Ooooh- look! Fox news! Proving that little kid stories are universal.

Apparently, little Cayden was super curious about the laundry chute and decided to take a closer look. Maybe he thought it would be like those adventure movies where you slide down the long cave slide til you get to the hidden treasure. Maybe he’s a super nerd kid and wanted to play Star Wars. Whatever the reason, 2 year old Cayden opened the laundry chute door, and fell about 20 feet into a bunch of cables that were being stored in the chute, getting tangled up and unable to move.

Eventually, fire fighters were able to rescue little Cayden, who came away from the experience with little more than a couple of bumps and scrapes. One of the first things Cayden did was try to open the chute door again, but his parents had nailed it shut.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. What kind of shitty parent wouldn’t have done that in the first place? I admit, it was kind of my first thought. But then I remembered a time when Jared was two and had, in the space of about 5 seconds, managed to go from the ground to the top of a stack of benches, about 7 feet up in the air. To this day, I have no idea HOW he managed it. Point is, 2 year olds are freaky fast. If you take your eyes off of them for even a second, they’ll end up on the other side of the room, ready to do something incredibly dangerous and scare you half to death.

They’re like the most adorable Weeping Angels ever.

Don’t blink. Don’t even blink.

Anyway, although nailing down the laundry chute door seems like a no-brainer after the fact, we have to award the father massive kudo parenting points. Upon hearing the frightened screams of his child, locating him, and wanting to comfort him, Cayden’s father PUNCHED A HOLE IN THE WALL so he could hold his son’s hand til help arrived. In fact, Dad broke his hand and is probably going to need surgery.

He totally wins The Most Bad-ass Dad in Recent News award. Do you know who doesn’t get a good parenting award? This person:

[youtube=http://youtu.be/4U32s8G33r8]

There’s no sound, so if you have your audio off at work, you’re not missing anything. For those who can’t watch the video, let me describe it for you. From a security camera: a little girl and her older brother go up to one of those stuffed animal claw games. No parents in sight, but maybe they’re off camera. The little girl decides she wants a stuffed animal, and amazingly crawls up into the vending machine through the prize door. And then her parents, oblivious to the fact that she is missing, WALK RIGHT BY THE MACHINE AND OUT THE DOORS.

Big brother has to go get his mom TWICE before she notices that her daughter is not only missing, but inside a vending machine. She casually puts down her coffee before trying to rescue her daughter. I mean, she doesn’t even seem worried. Once the child is retrieved, Mom collects her coffee and sets down the little girl. Because priorities. If it were me, I’d still be clinging to my little boy 10 years later, and I’d have forgotten all about the coffee.

But you know what the biggest shame is? That little girl didn’t even get a stuffed animal.

Seriously Old Spice What the Fuck?

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Today is Black Friday. Millions of Americans are trampling and macing the shit out of each other so they can save 20 bucks on an Xbox or whatever. I’ve never participated in Black Friday shopping and today is no different. Instead, I’m holed up in a hotel room waiting to make jokes for people at Courtney’s Comedy Club in Moorhead, MN.



So how am I passing the time? By playing a video game made by a deodorant company starring a retired NBA player, duh.



Perfectly reasonable.





That right there is Old Spice Dikembe Mutombo’s 4 1/2 Weeks to Save the World. Old Spice’s latest and (only slightly) most confusing ad campaign to date. Now, Old Spice is no stranger to nonsensical and baffling ads. The oldest I could find online was this little ditty starring Bruce Campbell –



[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Af1OxkFOK18&w=420&h=315]



I guess sales must have went up after Bruce Campbell just said a string of nonsense to a camera so Old Spice decided to crank up the crazy and now in 2012 their ads look like this –



[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-m6Ua9Iqkg&w=560&h=315]



At least you know he’s trying to sell you deodorant, I guess.



The video game starts with retired NBA start Dikembe Mutombo rising up from the bottom of the screen holding a couple of doves. Click “start” and his head turns into a rocketship and blasts off from his shoulders –

Because Old Spice makes you smell good I guess?





The head lands on an island in space, opens up and Dikembe walks out of his own head with three cheerleaders. There’s a series of islands in front of him, each representing a game. There’s only one available now. Click on it and it will take you to a scene where a talking bear in a Cosby sweater explains to Dikembe that people in Ohio aren’t voting because they’re too busy dancing to Gangnam Style –

Dikembe is holding a duck during the entire scene. We are given no explanation as to why.





So, naturally, Dikembe straps on a giant bottle of Old Spice onto his back because it’s also a jetpack and proceeds to fly down a cave and throw ballots at people while they dance to Gangnam Style so they’ll vote or something. When 50 voters are hit, Dikembe reaches the bottom of the cave where the state of Ohio explains that it won’t vote because it likes dancing too much –







Ohio resists and a fight is ensued. In this boss battle, Ohio shoots a bunch of disco balls out of it’s mouth at the jetpack wearing, ballot throwing Dikembe. Once Ohio is defeated, he goes and votes. Then, the state of Florida comes into the screen, holds up a bowl of nachos and says “my votes will take weeks to get counted. Want to count these nachos in the meantime?” Florida then counts nachos poorly –



but what do nachos even have to do with… what?





The camera pulls out to show the bear watching this all unfold from a monitor. He turns to the camera and explains that you can have your high score submitted to somehow power a laser that’s carving out an extension to they Mayan calendar so the world doesn’t end next month. Seriously. They have a livestream of the laser at work –



This is where that whole “4 1/2 weeks to save the world” thing comes in I guess.


What the hell does any of this even mean? Is David Lynch writing ad copy for Old Spice now? This doesn’t make me want to buy any deodorant. It does make me want to play the other games as they’re released but I’m not going to buy any Old Spice.



Their stuff makes me break out anyway. I’m a Mitchum Man.

Use This One in Your Next Show!

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Any comedian can tell you a dozen stories of some drunk coming up to them after a show and offering jokes they can tell at their next show.  I get that these people are just trying to be helpful but no comedian has ever told a joke onstage given to them by an audience member ever.  Comedians either write their own material or steal from other comedians, give the material a Latino perspective, get a show on Comedy Central, get called out onstage by Joe Rogan, have a video of the confrontation go viral and disappear from the public eye.  

 

If comedians started using material that drunk audience members offered after shows, stand up comedy would be a lot less coherent and a lot more racist.  Like, seriously racist.  Why do so many people tell me such racist jokes after shows?  Is it my shaved head?  

 

Just this week I was at The Monday Night Comedy Show and a guy came up to me and offered up some material I could use the next time I was on stage.  It wasn’t racist (incredibly rare) but still incredibly fucked up.  When I got off stage this wild eyed, gray walrus mustached man grabbed me by the arm and bellowed “Man I got some REAL FUNNY shit you can tell next time you’re up there and it’s ALL true!”  I told him I’d love to hear it sometime (lie) but kindly asked him to keep it down while other comics were onstage.  

 

He flagged me down during the intermission.  Here’s his story, unabridged, as best as I can remember it.  

 

 

“Okay so back in 69 I was 19 years load, right?  Got a fuckin’ Dodge Dart.  Fastest fuckin’ car I ever been in.  Step on the gas? Forget about it.  So I got this girlfriend and I’m livin’ in Ham Lake and me and my friends load up the car and head to Anoka for a party.  Back then you could fill up the tank, get a carton of smokes and a case of beer for fifteen bucks.  We’d drive around with a boat hooked up on a trailer and guys on the boat would throw empties at people’s mailboxes and shit.  So we get to this party and I start betting people I can drink a twelve pack in 3 minutes.  So I start cracking beers and pokin holes in the side so I can drink ’em faster.  Cracking beers and cracking beers.  Did it in 3 minutes.  I won 20 bucks!  After that I’m burping and my buddy bets me I can’t shoot tequila faster than him.  Listen, I was 19 and fuckin’ stupid, alright?  So I do six shots of tequila and I’m feeling pretty sick so I tell my buddies I gotta go home.  We all pile in the car, they’re gonna drive me home and go back to the party, right?  So we’re driving back and I gotta take a shit real bad.  I tell ’em I gotta shit but my buddy driving tells me to hold it in and I say ‘I can’t!’ And it starts coming out, right?  Just this soft brown shit coming down my pant leg and the smell hits me!  I got a sensitive stomach, right?  So when that hits my nose I gotta puke but I can’t get the window down in time so it hits my buddy and it hits me and then pow!  Car right in the snow bank!  So they’re all ‘get out!  You smell like shit!’ so I get outta the car and I take my clothes off ’cause they’re covered in shit and puke so I’m standing there buck naked in the middle of the winter and this farmer comes up on his tractor and says ‘what the fuck?’ And my buddies say ‘he shit his pants, man!  You gotta help us get outta the snow bank!’  So he gets the car out and he gives me a blanket to wrap myself up in and he’s just shakin’ his head.  The farmer’s just shakin’ his head.  The farmer’s just shakin’ his head.”

 

So yeah, I totally have permission to use that joke next time I’m on stage.  

 

Hey Fringe- Are You Fearless?

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I debated doing this blog post because we really try to focus on the entertainments, and my last blog post was rather plug-like. But I would feel really bad if someone could have used this opportunity to make MORE funny happen, and somehow hadn’t heard about it. And there are a lot of funny people that ready this blog.

Also, half of my brain is still focused on a domestic violence workshop I took over the weekend for a stage combat intensive. There is nothing funny about a bunch of rough and tough fighters hurt and crying about horrible situations they can’t do anything about.

Well, maybe if I phrased it differently…

In January of 2009, Bill and I had been together for about 3-4 months. It was 5 days before applications for the MN Fringe Festival were due. I woke up one morning with an idea for a show that would only really work in a Fringe setting. I had no money. I’d never produced a Fringe show before, and had no idea what was involved. But I really wanted to do this show.

I was frustrated, and had a talk with Bill, who had produced a Fringe show prior. I still can’t figure out why Bill married me, but there are certain phrases he said through our dating experience that really clinched the deal for me. He mentioned the deferment program for Fringe, and told me he thought I had enough good references to be able to land one. And then he said “If you think you have a good show, I believe it’s a great one and you should go for it. I’ll help and support you as much as you want, but really, you got this.”

It’s number 3 on the list of most attractive things anyone has ever said to me. Number two was again Bill, saying “I think it’s incredibly hot how you always put Jared first.” Number one was a friend of mine who I had grown up with, who was flirting with me. He took my hand, gazed into my eyes, and said “Jena, you have the most beautiful … blue.. green.. HOLY SHIT YOU HAVE TWO DIFFERENT COLORED EYES!!!”

Anyway, with Bill’s encouragement, I asked a couple of people for letters of recommendation, got them, filled out the deferment form and application form, and got them in 10 minutes before everything was due.

For those who don’t know “Fringe is an annual performing arts festival in the Twin Cities. For 11 days, over a thousand artists present works in every discipline and genre. No one selects the participating shows. Instead, a lottery determines which of over 400 applicants win production slots in the festival.”

So, I got all that in, did all that work, and 1) didn’t know if I’d get picked, 2) didn’t know if I’d get the deferment to pay for it. It was the most nerve-wracking couple of weeks of my life. And then, when my number got drawn in the lottery and I knew I had a spot (which hasn’t happened since), I *still* didn’t know if I’d get the deferment.

I *did* get that deferment. Robin Gillette, the grand cheese of Fringe who had a hand in picking the deferment, later told me that she looked at my references and said there was no way she could turn it down. One of my references was the director for the largest grossing show at MN Fringe the previous year (which I was in). The other was Mr. Tim Wick, director for Vilification Tennis, of which I am on cast, which had caused quite a stir the year before that.

It was a near thing for me. I had to be lucky enough to have my number drawn, and I had to have luck and a bit of connection to get that deferment. I was lucky to have talked to a guy who knew how it all worked and supported me the entire process. If none of those things had happened, if I had not done the Fringe Festival that year, I would not be where I am now. I would not have the acting resume I have now. I would have missed out on several growth opportunities. I would not know the people I now know. I would not be the marketing director for Fearless Comedy Productions. In fact, if it weren’t for the MN Fringe Festival, there would be no Fearless Comedy Productions.

So we want to give something back.

Yesterday, Fearless announced their Fearless Fringe Sponsorship Program. “Fearless will be looking for applicants looking to produce comedy that fits with Fearless goals of “pushing boundaries and pushing buttons.” Applications for the Fearless Fringe Sponsorship Program will be made available December 1st on their website www.fearlesscomedyproductions.com.”

Here’s the deal- if selected, Fearless will co-produce a show with you. If the show gets in, we will pay the production fee. We will assist with promotions. We will mentor and support as requested. You would still be responsible for applying for Fringe, including the $25 application fee. And the show would still be your show. You can have Fearless involved with production as much or as little as you want.

In return, you would list the show as a co-production with Fearless. You would pay Fearless back the production fee out of the ticket sales. You would also pay us 15% of the profits after production fee payout (we hope to use that money to be able to sponsor more than one person in the future).

The application will be available December 1st, and be due by December 31st. We will announce the winner at our launch party January 12th. Applications for the Fringe are due January 31st, so you don’t have to apply to Fringe until you know if you’ll be co-producing a show with Fearless. All of that anxiety and not knowing if you’ll be able to pay for it? Gone. Not knowing how to apply or where to go? Gone. You’ve got Fearless taking all the risk so that you don’t have to.

It’s kind of what we do.

So, if you or someone you know has been thinking of producing a Fringe show, check out the Fearless website on the 1st and apply for the Fearless Fringe Sponsorship.

Do it. Be Fearless.

Fat Men Can’t Climb.

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I’ve been pretty proud of myself recently, fitness-wise. I lost about 30 pounds since that jail bracelet told me I was super fucking fat and I’ve actually developed some muscle definition since I’ve started the carpet cleaning job. I wouldn’t go as far to say I’m in the best shape of my life but I’ve definitely been worse.



I found out yesterday, though, that I still have a ways to go.



This revelation started when I was driving home yesterday after going back to Thunder Bay, Ontario to tell some jokey jokes. About 20 miles north of Two Harbors there’s a small island off of lake superior. The island was about a quarter mile off shore but was accessible on foot by a long break-wall made of huge boulders. I pulled over and decided to go climb around on the island.



Oh get ready, island. I’m gonna stand on top of you so hard!





After about 500 feet of leaping from boulder to boulder in the break wall I started to get a little winded. I was sweating profusely even though it was 45 degrees out and the wind was blowing. I was panting and worried my asthma was going to kick in. I had to pull it together and keep hopping, though. I was pretty much halfway to the island and some teenagers were coming back from the island so I had to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal when we crossed paths. Can’t let a couple of strangers that you’ll probably never see again find out that you’re not in shape, right? That’d be embarrassing! So I leap and hop until I finally reach the island with my legs feeling like they could give out at any moment. One quick climb up a short cliff and I’m at the sweet, sweet top part of the island. It took me twenty minutes to hop across that break wall-

weird how a fun activity turns sour once you’re exhausted.





so I’ve had plenty of time to think of how awesome the top of the island will be. Maybe there’ll be some animal I’ve never seen before and they’re totally friendly! Maybe somebody left their cooler up there and there’s sandwiches! Pirate gold? Slutty Mermaids? The possibilities are endless! There’s just one problem –







That bitch is about 20 feet tall and there’s no place to get footholds. It’s straight up and down. I just figured when I was on the shore that it’d be easy to climb for some reason.



I look to see how the teenagers come down and I see a rope dangling from a corner.



and some driftwood I guess for some reason.





Alright! Rope! I figured I’d just grab onto that bad boy and climb up that wall Adam West style, maybe have a casual conversation with a Nazi on my way up –



[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHD_53UqBeA&w=420&h=315]
(Seriously. Thanks for telling the international war criminal to keep a monocle out for the 5-0 while you go chase some dipshit that stole the world’s largest thimble or whatever.)



Turns out that turning a camera sideways and pretending to walk up a wall is way easier than actually walking up a wall. I couldn’t get myself up there. I tried and tried but I could barely pull myself up. I tried using that stacked up driftwood as something to stand on while climbing buy my feet kept slipping on the wet wood. I was able to get about 5 feet from the top but I just couldn’t reach it.



It was so fucking frustrating. All the work of crossing over the break wall and I can’t even get up on the goddamned island? Even after losing 30 pounds and building a bunch of upper body strength? I tried one more time but it was no use. I slinked down the rope and did a quarter mile boulder-hop of shame back to my car.

Maybe if I just set fire to the place a boat will come for me or something…





Fuck this. I’m going to lose even more weight, get even stronger and one year from now I’m going back and climbing that fucking wall. I will stand on top of that stupid island. I will make friends with those animals, eat those sandwiches, swipe that pirate gold and bang those mermaids.


Funeral for a Friend.

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You ever have somebody in your life who was just there for you? Somebody you could always count on? Somebody who didn’t judge you, never asked anything of you? A friend who just wanted to make you feel better during the bad times and celebrate with you during the good?



For me that friend is Hostess Brand Snack Cakes and they’re gone now.



would you knooooow my naaaaaame, if I saw you in heaven?





They were there for me whenever I was feeling down. I could always count on them to be waiting for me at the gas station after a night of binge drinking. They’ve kept me company on countless road trips but now they’ll be gone forever as Hostess will be shutting down operations.



Sure, they’ll be selling off their assets and somebody else may pick up the mantle but it won’t be the same. The new owners will change the formula slightly or just rebrand their product as a hostess product. It won’t be the Hostess I fell in love with.



So what can I do? Hoard the product? That’s an option. When I was in 7th grade my science teacher told the class about how she was given a Twinkie as an award by some friends in college. She was known for loving them so they glued one to a plaque and presented it to her. 30 years later she was going through some old boxes in the attic and she found her Twinkie trophy. All wrapped up and fresh looking as the day it was purchased. Out of curiosity she opened up the 30 year old Twinkie and ate it. Tasted just fine.



So sure, you can hoard but what happens then? There’s only a finite amount of Hostess products and as their supply diminishes their value will grow until that shit is like gasoline in The Road Warrior –



Just walk away. Give me your Cupcakes, the Ding Dongs, the Fruit Pies, and the Ho-Hos, and I’ll spare your lives. Just walk away and we’ll give you a safe passageway in the wastelands. Just walk away and there will be an end to the horror.





No. The best thing to do is remember the good times but let our friend pass. Only then can we gain some closure and maybe lose some weight.

Baarle There

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I learn so many things on Facebook. I mean, aside from who’s relationship is complicated and how many of my friends I have to hate due to politics (the answer is all of them). Sometimes, I learn real schooling type stuff.

For example, the other day, this picture came up:

I love cobblestone…

…with the caption “The border between the Netherlands and Belgium.” Awe! Isn’t that sweet? I immediately reposted, because with all the bickering and talk about states filing petitions to sucede seceed secede and putting up fences around various borders, it’s nice to see a place where people don’t need barriers and shutting others out.

A friend of mine commented on the post “That must be a legal nightmare for the owner, even if they are both Shengen countries.” It raised a whole bunch of questions for me. What town was this taken in? Where along the border is this? What is the back story? How strict are the police from one country when dealing with the other? How far through the town does this border go? Is it just this one place, or are there more? And does this place serve Belgium waffles?

I did my research, and it’s so much cooler than I originally thought.

There is an area in the Netherlands that I will call the Baarle area. In this area are two municipalities, the Baarle-Nassau of the Netherlands, and Baarle-Hertog, the Belgium enclaves that pocket this area of the Netherlands with Belgium. There are 22-24 separate chunks of Belgium completely separated from the rest of Belgium, existing in the Netherlands area.

Of all the maps, I picked this one because it actually shows where Belgium and the Netherlands are in relation to each other. You’re welcome, stupid Americans!

And to mark the border? These white crosses on the sidewalks, and metal studs in the roads:

Get it? Crossing the border? Huh? Huh? CROSSING?

Wait a minute! those metal studs take a 90 degree angle and keep going down the street! And THEN they take a 90 degree angle and go past that restaurant we saw earlier (I still don’t know if they serve Belgium waffles). Turns out, the borders are all sorts of wacky. They go down the middle of streets:

Which cop gives the speeding ticket?

It goes through buildings, both outside:

This is a beer distributor. BUT IS IT BELGIUM?!?!?

and inside:

And who pays the storage fees?

Borders go straight through homes. The way they determine what country a building is in is by where the front door is. One blogger posted about a guy who was upset with his tax rates in one country, so he moved his front door and became a citizen of the other country.

Also, for a while, one of the countries had a curfew. So when the curfew hit, several restaurants were able to just move the patio seating around the corner and continue serving.

And apparently, police work together out of one office. The Belgians take care of the electricity and the telephones, and the Netherlands are in charge of water and gas. They split everything. You could even say that when it comes to running the area, the two municipalities… “go Dutch.”

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

World News for Dummies Like Me.

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I got hooked on NPR on election day.



I’d never really cared for radio news in the past but on election day I had to work and wanted to hear the results throughout the day and as polls closed around the country. For the first time in my life I listened to NPR news and was blown away by how thorough and impartial they were. I always assumed they’d have a liberal bias because, well, conservatives are always bitching about liberal Bias.



Granted, I googled “fox news on npr” and a bunch of stories came up about how public radio listeners are way more informed than Fox News viewers so that’s probably just sour grapes on the conservative end.



Since the election I’ve listened to NPR every time I get into my car. There’s just one problem. I have no idea what they’re talking about when they report on world politics.



Seriously. Totally lost. Let’s look at one of the things NPR news has reported on in the last few days and what I know about it.



SYRIA
What I know: There’s fighting I guess? Like, a war or something? Maybe a middle east thing?

What I don’t know: Who’s fighting. Why they’re fighting. Where Syria is.

Other misconceptions: The first time I heard Bob Marley’s “Stir it up” I thought he was singing “Syria”.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3UqvWk8-uw&w=420&h=315]



Alright let’s take a look at what this is all about:

Turns out Syria is in the middle east!




Also, turns out there’s a civil war going on. It started out as peaceful protests until the government cracked down on them (shot a bunch of protesters). Now there’s rebels, fights, shit’s spilling over to Israel for some reason and now Israel’s firing shit into Syria. It’s crazy but it doesn’t looki like the U.S. will be there anytime soon since we’re busy occupying a bunch of other middle eastern countries and Syria doesn’t have a ton of oil –



Oh, google autocomplete. You truly are the mirror held up to society.




What will I do with this newfound knowledge of a world event: Be the snootiest motherfucker at the party! No use having knowledge about something unless you can make yourself feel better by flaunting it around people who don’t have that knowledge! Time to go to some parties and start some conversations with casual acquaintances by with topics like “Did you hear about the scandal over at the BBC?” When they look at me confused and say they haven’t heard about it I’ll just roll my eyes, take a sip of my martini and say something dismissive like “Oh, they were just talking about it on NPR. I like to stay informed.”



Knowledge is power!


New York Daily News: Handling Stories With Class and Dignity Since Never.

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This weekend it was revealed that General David Petraeus, current head of the C.I.A., resigned due to being caught in an extramarital affair.



Now I was all set to do up a blog about posting fake emails between him and his mistress but when I googled “David Petraeus” to get more details on the story the first article that came up was something from the N.Y. Daily News –



Fucking really?





“Gen. Betray Us! Caught In the Act!” That’s their headline. Puns and acronym jokes. It doesn’t even stop there. Read the article and there’s a picture of his mistress with John Stewart and the caption for it literally reads “Paula Broadwell chats with comedian Jon Stewart, but there’s nothing funny about mess she’s in with Gen. David Petraeus.” Ugh.



What I really don’t get is how they haven’t played with the fact that the biography Broadwell wrote of Petraeus is called “All In”. Where’s the headline “Petraeus caught ‘All In’ Biographer’s vagina”? Here’s a coulple other potential headlines –


“Biographer Caught Fellating More Than Gen. Petraeus’ Ego!”

“General Petraeus Caught Redacting Paula Broadwell’s Classified Dossier!”

“C.I.A. Chief Resigns After Being Caught in Affair but That’s Okay Because Anybody Who Lets Their Emails Get Hacked So Easily Probably Shouldn’t be the Head of a Spy Agency.”