Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Vanilla Ice - Ice Ice Baby
Who doesn't love to hate (or in my case, hate to love) this song? How did this little suburban boy become a rapper? It makes no sense. After a few minutes of scintillating rhymes, i.e. "poet" with "know it" (genius beyond anything imaginable), it conclues with, "Word to ya mother." I never understood that. Should I just walk up to my mother and say, "Word," before she smacks me for making no sense because she raised me better than that, and she didn't pay for sixteen years of private school education for me to run around spouting nonsense from my filthy mouth. But yeah, this song is quite shameful.
Gina G - Ohh Ahh . . . Just a Little Bit
It's so corny that I love it. That's all there is to it.
Gwen Stefani - Hollaback Girl
At first I hated this song. Then, as it was pounded into my brain due to obscene levels of air play, I began to like it. As my brain explained to me soon after, the song is quite catchy. And when I say "quite," I mean "super." The song is super catchy. Damn that Pharrell!
Black Eyed Peas - My Humps
Much like Hollaback Girl, I didn't particularly enjoy this song. In fact, it could be the most annoying song ever. In the world. In life. The problem lies in its damned catchiness. It really angers me that I enjoy this. It must be noted, however, that much of my amusement comes from possible interpretations of the lines. I've spent entire work days laughing about how they could be about a mammogram, and Fergie is simply asking her doctor to check for lumps (my lovely lady lumps).
Aqua - Barbie Girl
This song is so bad that I cannot help but love it. The best thing about it is that's how I think Barbie would sound if she could talk. (Don't even get me started on talking demon dolls.) When I first heard this song at the tender age of thirteen, I immediately thought, "I knew it! She is a slut!" This song justified my refusal of Barbie demons my entire life. Despite the shame I grew from enjoying this song way too much, it is overshadowed by my smug pride in never having been sucked into the Barbie doll hell that many of my contemporaries fell into.
While I am ashamed of liking these songs, I am not so ashamed that I only listen to them in my room, when no one else is home, on the speakers' lowest volume. Quite the opposite. These are the best songs to blast while driving around as though they were super-cool/gangsta, a la 50 Cent. It makes the pedestrians curious, and they look at me in a manner which seems to ask, "What is wrong with you? Why are you playing such horrible music so loudly?" And the answers are: So many things, and because I love it.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Today, this has changed. I went in, checked the paper, and went back to my desk. Everything was full, so there's nothing I need to do, right? Wrong. A director came up to me in a fit. (The same director who's asked me check the paper every morning. Because actually putting in paper herself is too labor intensive.) Apparently, the machine was not copying her document. "Why?" I ask. I checked the paper. There are at least 2000 sheets in there. This is what she tells me:
"The machine is warming up."
Are you fucking kidding me? The machine needs to warm up. This is what these super-automated things need to do so that they don't need to be serviced every fucking week. In the time it took for her to tell me about this monstrosity, the machine warmed up and printed her copy. So she walked over and picked up her document, so I, thinking the issue is over, proceed to disregard her alarming ignorance of office machinery. Unfortunately for me, however, she comes back to me and proceeds to complain about these 20 second warm up periods. This is what she says to me:
"I don't understand why the machine needs to warm up. No one's used it all night. Why does it need to warm up?"
Once again: Are you fucking kidding me? Of course it needs to warm up after a night of inactivity. Like me, this thing sleeps at night. Why are you so stupid?! You're the first person to ask anything of this machine today. It needs to warm up! I don't understand what is so difficult with this concept?! How is it that you are able to function in the workplace?! I don't understand!! This downward spiral was interrupted by another one of her stupid requests:
"Can you make sure the machine is warmed up all the time? I don't want to have to wait for my copies."
Because I'm not that creative, I ask again: Are you fucking kidding me? This dumbass/asshole/idiot expects me to baby-sit the damned machine all day every day, making sure it's nice and warmed up for her impatient ass. I'm sorry, but this is too fucking much.
When it comes to this kind of stuff, I'm generally a patient person. I don't mind making sure the copiers and fax machines are full. It only takes a few seconds and it helps everybody else who uses them. But I will be fucking damned if she expects me to check up on the machines constantly just so that she doesn't have to wait that extra 20 seconds for them to warm up. She doesn't see any of her superiors/colleagues complaining. They understand the limitations of copy machines. If you're the first person to use it in the morning or after a few hours of inactivity, add a few seconds to your wait. It's not that fucking difficult.
Needless to say, I have begun the search for a new job. I think it will be best for all parties involved. I lose the desire to shoot someone in the face (including myself), and they avoid being shot in the face. Everyone's a winner!
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Who doesn’t love the convenient distractions throughout the work day? Anything that detracts from the mind-numbing, soul-crushing, face-hurting labor is a welcome addition to my day. One of my personal favorites is Wikipedia. I would stay there all day if I could and probably learn more than I did in school. So today, I will document a couple of my wikipedia adventures where I start at the main page, then jump from entry to entry using the in text links. It should be super-exciting, and if not, it’s better than actual work. Let’s start with:
- the Main Page. I like to start here just to see what’s featured, in the news, etc. Nothing seems super interesting so from here we jump to…
- Today’s featured article, the colonial history of Miami, Florida. Here’s what I currently know of Miami: it’s hot, the drivers are crazy, and Dave Barry wrote for the Miami Herald. Upon reading the entry, however, I’m reminded of things that I definitely knew in elementary school history class. Those crazy Spanish settlers, with their long-ass names. Wouldn’t Juan Ponce de Leon have an easier time with Johnny Lion (or whatever that madness translates to)? Unfortunately, I’ve lost interest in that crazy place called Miami, so from here, we jump to…
- Smallpox. This shit it gross. When crazy old cat-ladies yell, “A pox on your house!” this is what they mean. It is not cute. Luckily, that crazy stuff called science has helped us out with it and smallpox is all but eradicated. So here’s a little message from me to any of you crazies out there who think science is destroying religion: I'm down with God and all, but I also enjoy my vaccinations, so please shut up. From here, let’s go to…
- Farmer. I like farmers as much as I like food. I’ll even go so far as to say I love farmers. Without them, I’d be lost. Lost and hungry. And most importantly, without farmers, we wouldn’t have…
- Alcoholic beverages. What words exist that can adequately convey my appreciation for these? Wines, liquors, beers, it all makes my heart smile. I think Benjamin Franklin said it best: Beer is proof that God loves us, and wants us to be happy.
So there you have it. In retrospect, the jumps aren’t all that random in that I started with Miami and ended with alcoholic beverages. Those two just seem to go hand-in-hand, don’t they? All I need is to get some cocaine, and I’m set for my trip to Florida.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Why is this man (bear? demon?) covered in pubic hair? I was so disgusted upon seeing this that I had an immediate need to share it with as many people as possible. It’s the online version of tasting something super-nasty and asking everyone around you to try it.
YOU: UGH! This is gross! TRY IT!
ME: OK! [tries a bit] That is the grossest thing in life.
Why do I try it? I already know it’s gross from your reaction. Yet, I feel that I can’t really appreciate its flavor until I experience it for myself. Lately, I’ve avoided this situation by simply knocking the food out of the other person’s hands/off the table. While this has caused some problems in itself, it’s yielded good results. I don’t have to have disgusting food, and a number of establishments have asked me not to return, making my restaurant choices easier.
But back to this pubic monster. Actually, it’s disrespectful to pubic hair to call him a pubic monster. People take care of it: trim, wash, wax, and whatever floats their boat. Clearly, there is none of that going on here. Is he able to use regular soap/body wash to clean up? Isn’t shampoo more appropriate? If so, what kind? It’s all so bizarre that I can’t help but wonder. Damn this inquiring mind of mine!
I feel as though he thinks himself to be attractive, and while some (crazy? depraved? blind?) people may think so, I must disagree. That look he's giving me doesn’t say: “I’m sexy.” If it is, he needs to work on his diction, because all I’m hearing is: “I’m a demon. Come join me in eating the entire world and growing fields of pubic hair.”
His torso looks like an independent being that’s getting ready to take over the world, or at least the staircase. Any minute now, his belly will be ripped open to reveal the demon underneath that has been monitoring all outside activity through the eyenipples (nippleeyes?), which are strangely immune to the rampant hair growth. If it is allowed to escape, soon the whole world will be covered in this evil. Don’t let that happen. Fight the demons. Groom yourself.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
I have about 5500 songs on my IPod. From what I understand, this is quite a large number. So I’ll put all the songs on shuffle and see what comes up, no skipping involved:
Journey - Don’t Stop Believin’
This is one of the best musical montage songs ever. It even has a nice build up to the climax of the song allowing the montage to build up accordingly, usually resulting in some sort of reunion, followed by some sort of make-out/hug/whatever-it-is-that-reunited-people-do session during the guitar solo. And we don't stop believin' it for a second.
Chuck Brown – Bustin’ Loose
You know what? I do feel like bustin’ loose. If, for some reason, you want to get into DC's Go-Go scene, you need to start your education with Chuck Brown.
DMX – How’s It Goin’ Down (Remix)
This song makes me feel super young. I think it came out when I was about 15, and it had a lot of air-play during that summer. Specifically, I associate this song with riding around in my fake-me-out cousin’s Volvo station wagon with some of her actual cousins to random places, including, but not limited to the mall, McDonald’s, and Six Flags. (I don’t remember if it was Six Flags at that point. It might have still been Adventure World.) Also, the way we would pay for gas was for everyone to just bring along random change/spare dollars, and that was enough to get around. Remember that? When gas was cheap?
The Temptations – (I Know) I’m Losing You
This is one of my favorite songs by The Temptations. Even though it’s a break-up sort of song, it has so much energy. I love driving to this song, although the police might not, as I tend to speed if a good song comes on.
Carlos Santana feat. Musiq – Nothing at All
I really like how Santana’s guitar isn’t just a background to Musiq’s voice. It’s more of a duet going on between the two.
And that concludes my first Super Random Tuesday.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Perhaps you believe that your future is so bright that you need shades. Trust me in telling you that this is not the case. If anything, you’ve already peaked and are approaching your twilight years. You don’t need sunglasses when there is no sun. Perhaps you think that wearing these will trick the sun into coming back up:
SUN: Time to illuminate the other side of the world. WAIT A MINUTE! Someone’s still wearing sunglasses over there?! Is my watch right? Should I be lighting up the western hemisphere? I knew I should have gotten this stupid Swatch fixed. Guess I gotta go light up L.A.
MOON: Where is that bastard? He’s late again.
As far as I know, this tactic does not work. Soon after this happened, the moon came over, whipped the sun into shape, and explained the situation: sunglasses are a result of the sun; the sun is not a result of sunglasses.
Once again, I ask: WHY?! Unless you’re an anime character who has somehow transcended the boundaries of paper and animation cels, your eyes cannot be so large as to warrant these obnoxious things. And if you're eyes are that large, you had better be saving the world from evil queens from outer space, or whatever it is that the Sailor Scouts do.
Friday, May 05, 2006
DIRECTOR: I know, let's name the slut "Catherine!" It means "pure," but the character is actually a dirty whore! The name makes her character even more developed and involving!
PRODUCER: I LOVE IT!
I hate it and have recently come upon a realization that disturbs me. The name "Catherine" is often given to movie characters known to be slutty and/or murderous. This is very disturbing, as my name is also Catherine. What is this predilection that screenplay writers have for this name, especially in negative associations? It hurts my heart. It really does. Don't believe me? Let's watch some movies together:
Here, Catherine is a protagonist so we're allowed to root for her. My problem is that she's a bit on the skanky side. Not skanky in the traditional sense of fucking anything on two legs, but in the sense of fucking someone she really shouldn't. Also, what pure minded person would wear this? Even though she comes out winning, we all know she's a slut.
We're not really sure who Catherine is while the movie is developing. (Actually, it's pretty fucking obvious that Aeon is Catherine, but we'll let the director think he's confusing us.) How can a "pure" Catherine be an assassin, who takes no remorse from killing hundreds of people? I'm assuming that in the end, we should understand that the original Catherine was pure and good and all that bullshit who alone had the power to affect Trevor Goodchild, but that doesn't matter. What matters here is that Aeon/Catherine kills people in order to reach him, proceeds to sleep with him for no discernible reason, and then proceeds to kill more people upon her exit: murder, fuck, murder.
In this instance, there is no doubt of how evil Kathryn is. She is a bitch of the highest order in that she:
- is needy to the point of wanting to fuck her step-brother (vomit) and other people that don't want to.
- enjoys toying with people dumber than her.
- keeps coke in a cross. (I'm not big on religion, but that's just fucked up.)
- eventually gets people killed.
Why can't characters be named just for what they are? There are plenty out there: Mala, Bacia, and Magara come to mind. (Okay, I lied. They came to my Google search results.) Given, these are ugly names; but if you're going to be a horrible person, you should have a horrible name. It only makes sense. For example, if you have a slutty character, just name her Paris, or even Lindsay. The audience will make the connection.
With so many names to choose from, why must Hollywood continue to drag my name through the mud? There are empresses, saints, including a Doctor of the Church, and fucking fireworks named Catherine. Stop with the bitches.