[WARNING: The following post will be discussing human anatomy in frank, uncensored terms. If you are easily offended, you might want to skip this one. If you're easily titillated, wait until you're at home at least.]
[Sorry about using the word "titillated". Probably should have come after the warning.]
Jon Hamm is apparently sick and tired of everyone talking about his penis. Jon sat down with Rolling Stone and expressed his displeasure at the public attention his privates are getting. At the moment, his penis has yet to comment, but has promised to hold a press conference early next week. Seriously, I understand what he's saying. I would hate the idea of millions of people talking about how huge my penis is, which is easily the single most false statement I've ever made in the history of this blog.
I think that the big take away from this though is our obsession as a nation with the privates of public figures. I'm not sure if people know this, but there's a whole Internet full of naked people. I'm not sure why being famous makes it special. I remember the kerfuffle a decade ago when the world gained access to a picture of Brad Pitt's pendulum. You'd think they had gotten a picture of Bigfoot. I mean, I saw the picture, and based on the evidence he probably does have big feet, but that's not the point.
It's gotten to where I can't look at my newsfeed without the words "wardrobe malfunction" coming up anymore. It's not even interesting. I think there's actually a template at Entertainment Weekly that says "Disney Starlet [NAME] Turns Eighteen, Immediately Accidentally Exposes [Breasts/Naked Bottom/Hoo Hoo/All Of The Above]". If I worked for Disney, I'd be crazy gluing my undergarments on.
I guess my point is that we need to move on. Let these people breathe a little bit. Find some other sport to distract us so the famous can run outside in their bathrobes without fear of their co-stars making a cameo on the evening news. Let's collectively agree that we want to see something a little harder to catch on a camera.
Find me a picture of Jon Hamm looking like holy Hell so I can go back to enjoying Mad Men with my wife.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Thursday, March 21, 2013
And No, I'm Not Trying To Compensate For Anything
Now that that pesky assault weapon ban has been removed from the gun control bill, I think we can all breathe a sigh of relief. After all, there are perfectly legitimate reasons for a civilian to need a gun that shoots 600 rounds per minute that don't end in headlines about "massacre" and "tragedy". I personally can't think of what those reasons might be, but that is undoubtedly due to the liberal media not covering stories of all the good that comes from such things.
Here's the thing though - since we can apparently all agree that the average yahoo should be able to own an assault rifle (discounting the 55% of Americans who favor such a ban), then I don't think it's unreasonable that we discuss taking things a touch further. I mean, the assault rifle was created for the military, but we've all agreed (again, excluding the aforementioned hippie contingent) that anyone should be able to get one, right? So why not other military equipment?
I guess what I'm saying is this: I want a tank.
There are all sorts of practical reasons for wanting my own tank, not least of which is the obvious awesome factor. I bet a tank never gets stuck in the snow. Seeing a tank bearing down in the rear view mirror would discourage those twits that drive 60 in the pass lane. Plus, how much cooler would the homecoming float be if it was built on the back of a tank? Besides, we let people drive Hummers around, and really those are just tanks that have been neutered so they don't chase the other cars around.
I'm sure there will be practical issues to owning a tank, like parking for example. Hey, I don't mind parking at the back of the lot to get groceries. Besides, if some tool with a pickup truck can take up four spaces to avoid getting a dink in his paint job, I'm sure people would overlook my needing a couple of spaces for my tank. (Side note: if you park your pickup truck like this, you have outed yourself as a poser who doesn't understand what a pickup truck is for. Please proceed to the nearest honky-tonk bar for the beating you so richly deserve.)
(DLOG Interactive: This is the part where you should turn on your speakers and open this link in another tab/window for the full effect. Trust me.)
You know, a lot of people like to think they know what the founding fathers were thinking when they despite the fact that it was over 250 years ago when people worried about things like keeping slaves in line and not getting dysentery, and I realize that the right to bear arms bit in the Constitution was written when firing said arms involved taking 25 or 30 seconds to load a single shot. Still, I can tell you this much: Benjamin Franklin would have wanted me to have a tank. Franklin said "All mankind is divided into three classes: those that are immovable, those that are movable, and those that move.", and really, what better way to move than in a few tons of American-made steel? I can see it now, me and Ben cruising downtown in my custom painted tank (after a quick riding-dirty check, because I think we can all agree that Ben Franklin would be lining his coat pockets with hella sticky bud). Hatch open with mad bass pumping out. Fourteen custom red, white and blue rims spinning when we come to a stop. Ben poking out the top to return the salutes given by tearful patriots as we pass by (or hooting at the ladies, 'cause Ben was bold like that). You guys, we need to make this happen.
You write your representatives, and I'll start setting up the Kickstarter.
Here's the thing though - since we can apparently all agree that the average yahoo should be able to own an assault rifle (discounting the 55% of Americans who favor such a ban), then I don't think it's unreasonable that we discuss taking things a touch further. I mean, the assault rifle was created for the military, but we've all agreed (again, excluding the aforementioned hippie contingent) that anyone should be able to get one, right? So why not other military equipment?
I guess what I'm saying is this: I want a tank.
There are all sorts of practical reasons for wanting my own tank, not least of which is the obvious awesome factor. I bet a tank never gets stuck in the snow. Seeing a tank bearing down in the rear view mirror would discourage those twits that drive 60 in the pass lane. Plus, how much cooler would the homecoming float be if it was built on the back of a tank? Besides, we let people drive Hummers around, and really those are just tanks that have been neutered so they don't chase the other cars around.
I'm sure there will be practical issues to owning a tank, like parking for example. Hey, I don't mind parking at the back of the lot to get groceries. Besides, if some tool with a pickup truck can take up four spaces to avoid getting a dink in his paint job, I'm sure people would overlook my needing a couple of spaces for my tank. (Side note: if you park your pickup truck like this, you have outed yourself as a poser who doesn't understand what a pickup truck is for. Please proceed to the nearest honky-tonk bar for the beating you so richly deserve.)
(DLOG Interactive: This is the part where you should turn on your speakers and open this link in another tab/window for the full effect. Trust me.)
You know, a lot of people like to think they know what the founding fathers were thinking when they despite the fact that it was over 250 years ago when people worried about things like keeping slaves in line and not getting dysentery, and I realize that the right to bear arms bit in the Constitution was written when firing said arms involved taking 25 or 30 seconds to load a single shot. Still, I can tell you this much: Benjamin Franklin would have wanted me to have a tank. Franklin said "All mankind is divided into three classes: those that are immovable, those that are movable, and those that move.", and really, what better way to move than in a few tons of American-made steel? I can see it now, me and Ben cruising downtown in my custom painted tank (after a quick riding-dirty check, because I think we can all agree that Ben Franklin would be lining his coat pockets with hella sticky bud). Hatch open with mad bass pumping out. Fourteen custom red, white and blue rims spinning when we come to a stop. Ben poking out the top to return the salutes given by tearful patriots as we pass by (or hooting at the ladies, 'cause Ben was bold like that). You guys, we need to make this happen.
You write your representatives, and I'll start setting up the Kickstarter.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Taking a Stand
I've recently converted my fuzzy cell....sorry, "cubicle"...to a standing setup. What this means, for those not initiated to such shenanigans, is that all of my monitors, my keyboard and my track ball now sit about two feet above my desk surface. This allows me to stand all day while performing my many important duties at work, like looking at captioned cat pictures or judging people online.
When I declared my intention to do this, some people questioned why I would purposely commit to being on my feet all day, with the obvious answer being health reasons. I'll leave it to the reader to search out the articles espousing the virtues of not sitting on your posterior all day (ironically, because I'm lazy). Trust me. Lots of people in lab coats who get paid more than me have said not to sit all day.
This is not actually the primary reason for my choice, however. No, for me it's about power. In the varied landscape of people one finds in an office environment, there are those who lack the common courtesy to recognize that the average programmer's desire for face-to-face contact is generally comparable to their desire for face-to-wolverine contact. Thus living in the cubicle labyrinth comes with the constant threat of someone wandering into your cubicle expecting a conversation. Since you were presumably working, you are presumably sitting when they arrive.
And now you're presumably having a conversation with a co-workers crotch.
Oh sure, you can correct your line of sight, but the damage has been done. Whatever question that needed addressing is now overshadowed by your suddenly gained knowledge. Did I need to know that the person talking dresses to the left? Or that the interloper is suffering from a degree of camel toe that leaves you questioning how she walked over here without whimpering in the first place?
This is no way to start a conversation.
Now, when I am forced to turn around and direct my ire at whomever was so presumptuous as to interrupt my thought processes, we stand on even ground. I look them in the eye, tell them what they need to know, and shoo them off quickly and without distraction. Then I turn back around and get back to the task at hand.
This status isn't going to update itself.
When I declared my intention to do this, some people questioned why I would purposely commit to being on my feet all day, with the obvious answer being health reasons. I'll leave it to the reader to search out the articles espousing the virtues of not sitting on your posterior all day (ironically, because I'm lazy). Trust me. Lots of people in lab coats who get paid more than me have said not to sit all day.
This is not actually the primary reason for my choice, however. No, for me it's about power. In the varied landscape of people one finds in an office environment, there are those who lack the common courtesy to recognize that the average programmer's desire for face-to-face contact is generally comparable to their desire for face-to-wolverine contact. Thus living in the cubicle labyrinth comes with the constant threat of someone wandering into your cubicle expecting a conversation. Since you were presumably working, you are presumably sitting when they arrive.
And now you're presumably having a conversation with a co-workers crotch.
Oh sure, you can correct your line of sight, but the damage has been done. Whatever question that needed addressing is now overshadowed by your suddenly gained knowledge. Did I need to know that the person talking dresses to the left? Or that the interloper is suffering from a degree of camel toe that leaves you questioning how she walked over here without whimpering in the first place?
This is no way to start a conversation.
Now, when I am forced to turn around and direct my ire at whomever was so presumptuous as to interrupt my thought processes, we stand on even ground. I look them in the eye, tell them what they need to know, and shoo them off quickly and without distraction. Then I turn back around and get back to the task at hand.
This status isn't going to update itself.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
News Briefs: March 12, 2013
U.S. News
The recent filibuster by Rand Paul continues to draw attention to the US drone program. Unfortunately for Paul, most Americans misunderstood the usage of "drone", assuming that it was listening to someone talk for thirteen hours being protested. On the other side of the aisle, the Obama administration continues dodging specific questions about whether or not drones might legally be used on American soil, proving once again that integrity and conviction are no match for the opportunity to fly around a sweet remote controlled plane.
A New York city police officer has been convicted of a plot to eat women, which is ridiculously bad planning on his part because he hadn't even tried one yet. He might not even like them.
Local
I don't know where you live. I mean, how would that even work?
Entertainment
The Great Gatsby is set to open the Cannes Film Festival. Baz Luhrmann assured the press that the literary classic will be handled with the class and dignity it deserves before he dramatically turned and strode away to techno-driven orchestra music among a cavalcade of scantily-clad dancers, glitter and fireworks.
Health
The New York ban on sugary drinks is struck down in court, a decisive win for soda manufacturers, personal rights advocates, and designers of Macy's "Metro Husky" line of formal wear.
Pet frogs have been linked to a recent salmonella outbreak adding insult to injury for the poor kids who were licking the wrong amphibians to get high in the first place.
The European Union has officially banned all cosmetics that have been tested on animals much to the delight of animal rights advocates and those who agree that really, even a little blush makes a rabbit look like a whore.
The recent filibuster by Rand Paul continues to draw attention to the US drone program. Unfortunately for Paul, most Americans misunderstood the usage of "drone", assuming that it was listening to someone talk for thirteen hours being protested. On the other side of the aisle, the Obama administration continues dodging specific questions about whether or not drones might legally be used on American soil, proving once again that integrity and conviction are no match for the opportunity to fly around a sweet remote controlled plane.
A New York city police officer has been convicted of a plot to eat women, which is ridiculously bad planning on his part because he hadn't even tried one yet. He might not even like them.
Local
I don't know where you live. I mean, how would that even work?
Entertainment
The Great Gatsby is set to open the Cannes Film Festival. Baz Luhrmann assured the press that the literary classic will be handled with the class and dignity it deserves before he dramatically turned and strode away to techno-driven orchestra music among a cavalcade of scantily-clad dancers, glitter and fireworks.
Health
The New York ban on sugary drinks is struck down in court, a decisive win for soda manufacturers, personal rights advocates, and designers of Macy's "Metro Husky" line of formal wear.
Pet frogs have been linked to a recent salmonella outbreak adding insult to injury for the poor kids who were licking the wrong amphibians to get high in the first place.
The European Union has officially banned all cosmetics that have been tested on animals much to the delight of animal rights advocates and those who agree that really, even a little blush makes a rabbit look like a whore.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Still Alive
In the long long ago, I was out on my first date ever when the young lady I was with asked me if I thought I used humor as a crutch. Being a boy of fourteen or fifteen at the time, my idea of self awareness was knowing that watching the girls doing jumping jacks in gym was not a great idea, so I was somewhat taken aback. As a result, I answered with the confidence and grace of Porky Pig getting tazered (undoubtedly one the reasons it was also a last date). That question has, however, stuck with me throughout my life.
The truth is that I use humor for a lot of things, but I don't think a crutch is the proper analogy.
I use humor as a shield. I have discovered that being funny means I don't have to give anything away. I can interact and be social, and people will come away thinking that they like me without actually knowing anything about me. I enjoy this.
It's not that I'm antisocial. I just like playing my cards close. I mean, you might like me right now, but if you knew how many trees I flipped off on the way to work today, you might feel differently. Goddamned trees, thinking they're so cool. "Check this out. I'm totally making energy out of sunlight right now. I'm not even thinking about it. Hey, you enjoying that oxygen over there? Yeah, I made that." Smug mother %#$@ers.
I digress.
More importantly, I use my humor as a sword. There are things that I will never say to someone, sometimes things that need to be said, in a serious manner. I'm just not confrontational like that. It's baked in from years of living in a social group built on the idea of complete honesty, so long as that honestly is in full agreement with everyone else's. Otherwise, keep it to yourself.
But you can joke about it.
I can be more honest in a joke than I ever would otherwise, and this is a thing of beauty. Not that everything I joke about is based in some sort of prophetic truth (although I stand by my wisdom in certain areas). I can, however, express truths in a way that people can take easier by making light of them. I can joke about my guilt over repeatedly telling my kids that there is no such things as monsters even though I regularly deal with lawyers We can smile and choose for ourselves whether or not we want to read more into it. There's a power in that.
These are skills that get me through my life, and like any skills they have to be honed. I'm getting older, and I'm not always going to be able to count on my devilish good looks to get me through. Between that and the fact that I miss having a place to write, even an insignificant one, I think it's time to take this thing back out for a ride.
Welcome back kids. I have my shield. I have my sword.
Now let's see if we can't find ourselves some dragons.
The truth is that I use humor for a lot of things, but I don't think a crutch is the proper analogy.
I use humor as a shield. I have discovered that being funny means I don't have to give anything away. I can interact and be social, and people will come away thinking that they like me without actually knowing anything about me. I enjoy this.
It's not that I'm antisocial. I just like playing my cards close. I mean, you might like me right now, but if you knew how many trees I flipped off on the way to work today, you might feel differently. Goddamned trees, thinking they're so cool. "Check this out. I'm totally making energy out of sunlight right now. I'm not even thinking about it. Hey, you enjoying that oxygen over there? Yeah, I made that." Smug mother %#$@ers.
I digress.
More importantly, I use my humor as a sword. There are things that I will never say to someone, sometimes things that need to be said, in a serious manner. I'm just not confrontational like that. It's baked in from years of living in a social group built on the idea of complete honesty, so long as that honestly is in full agreement with everyone else's. Otherwise, keep it to yourself.
But you can joke about it.
I can be more honest in a joke than I ever would otherwise, and this is a thing of beauty. Not that everything I joke about is based in some sort of prophetic truth (although I stand by my wisdom in certain areas). I can, however, express truths in a way that people can take easier by making light of them. I can joke about my guilt over repeatedly telling my kids that there is no such things as monsters even though I regularly deal with lawyers We can smile and choose for ourselves whether or not we want to read more into it. There's a power in that.
These are skills that get me through my life, and like any skills they have to be honed. I'm getting older, and I'm not always going to be able to count on my devilish good looks to get me through. Between that and the fact that I miss having a place to write, even an insignificant one, I think it's time to take this thing back out for a ride.
Welcome back kids. I have my shield. I have my sword.
Now let's see if we can't find ourselves some dragons.
Monday, March 4, 2013
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