This weekend NurseSexy and I had dinner with some friends, followed by some dessert at Cold Stone. NurseSexy's friend sampled a few flavors before deciding on this as her order: Butterscotch Jell-o ice cream with strawberries, coconut, and M&Ms mixed in. As we looked at her in horror, she swore to us that it was going to be delicious. So good, in fact, that they would give it an official name and put it up on the wall to make it easy for others to order.
"Yeah," I suggested, "it'll be called 'I'm Sorry.'"
R.I.P. Michael Jackson. You touched so many. Allegedly. You allegedly touched so many. I look forward to the many fawning tributes to the guy that has been routinely mocked and harassed for the past 15 years.
You know what this means? The torch has been passed. It's all on you now, Tito Jackson. You can do this!
For those who don't know the saga, here's a quick breakdown of Michael Jackson's career:
1970- Michael stars in Jackson 5, clearly the star 1982- Thriller drops, people go batshit for MJ and his dancing 1986- Touched that "Webster" kid's weiner (maybe) 1994- Married Elvis' fat daughter, baffling everyone 1995-2005- Several kids claim Michael did some things with their things...very vague 1999- Michael's nose disappears 2002- Michael misunderstands concept of dead baby jokes, dangles his own baby over balcony for the lulz 2006-2009- Goes into hiding, which everyone is absolutely OK with 2009- Dies
Also, it wasn't often discussed, but Michael often missed the point of advice given to him. For instance, Michael himself even notes in his song "Billy Jean" that "People always told me, be careful what you do...don't go around breaking young girls' hearts". Then he allegedly diddled some boys. Allegedly. There were allegations. So you see, Michael merely allegedly did what people asked of him. It's your fault, people.
I think blame for his nose goes to Skeletor, though.
In my continuing crusade to get kicked off every site on the internet (see the death of Yahoo! Answers accounts here and here), I created a fake Twitter account posing as the bumbling coach of one of the most inept franchises in all of sports- Los Angeles Clippers coach Mike Dunleavy. There was so much opportunity for lolz that I simply couldn’t resist. Check out all the things it had going for it:
The Clippers have only made the playoffs twice in 25 years. To put this in perspective, there are 16 teams that make the playoffs each year, which is approximately half of the total number of teams. So in essence, you’ve got a 50-50 chance of making the playoffs each year. If you flipped a coin 25 times, what are the chances it would come up tails 23 of those 25 times? That, my friends, is an accomplishment in failure.
One of the things that might explain the Clippers’ storied history of failure is their owner, Donald Sterling. The man is notoriously cheap, to the point that he’s actually had to spend money in some years just to reach the minimum payroll that the league will allow. Frankly, the man would hire migrant workers at 12 cents an hour to play basketball if he could. He cares about winning like I care about the mental health of porn stars. If you care to learn more about Donald Sterling (including the allegation that he asked an employee to find him a masseuse by saying "I want someone who will, you know, let me put it in or who [will] suck on it." This is a classy man. http://sports.espn.go.com/nba/news/story?id=4187729
The coach, Mike Dunleavy, is widely blamed for the team’s failures. He makes terrible decisions, his players don’t seem to respect him, and fans openly call for him to be fired. But he’s still employed with the team, and a lot of people believe that’s because the owner is too cheap to fire him and have to pay someone new to take the job. Imagine if, at your job, you were guaranteed employment. Would you not get away with everything possible while collecting your paycheck? I would be shoving bags of my own excrement into the air conditioning vents, changing the team’s official homepage to 2girls1cup.com, and walking around carrying a boombox blaring death metal songs as I yell “Hey, did you guys hear the new KillFuckWhore song? It’s fucking METAL!”
Armed with so much material, I began my fake Twitter account. Within a week, I had 50 followers. Then, a hugely popular sports columnist mentioned my fake account and within 6 hours I’d gained 700+ followers. As it turns out, a lot of people dig parody. The only problem with parody is that it requires the tiniest bit of thought to comprehend.
A few hours after my huge surge in popularity, someone who considers the Borat movie a documentary decided to verify whether I was actually the coach of the Los Angeles Clippers. Note that he wondered this after I posted things like “We’re selling cookies for $5 a box to fund the 2009-2010 Clippers budget!” You know, just like Microsoft holds a fucking bake sale so they can afford to create the next version of Excel. But this truth-seeker contacted the actual Los Angeles Clippers to say “Hey, is that really Mike Dunleavy?” To which, the Clippers responded “No, and thanks for pointing that out to us! We’re going to try to get him removed.”
The next morning, as I logged in to my account, I was greeted with “Your account has been suspended while we conduct an investigation.” Get Woodward and fucking Bernstein on this one! It’s a tough case to crack! Fortunately, the notice of suspension also included a link where you could complain if you felt your account was unfairly suspended.
Those of you who have been reading a while may remember that I’ve mentioned Twitter’s business model in the past. So it was far too easy for me to craft this short complaint, which I submitted to Twitter:
“A lot of people give Twitter crap about a business model and wonder where potential revenue streams will come from. Well, fearing that you're about to suspend my account, I suggest this means of revenue generation: extortion. I will absolutely pay you $20 to not suspend my account. Admittedly, that's not even enough to buy you the "V" in venture capital, but it's a start.
Failing that, could you at least transfer my followers to my new account, @mikeduhleavy?”
A few hours later, the Twitter support page listed my complaint as “Solved”. However, it gave no indication as to what the “solution” was. Did they decide I was hilarious and want to send me a coked-up stripper as a reward? One can only assume, as that’s the only reasonable outcome here. I anxiously await Twitter asking for my address to send me my surprise.
For those of you wondering "What's up with your dog lately?", here's a little update:
I just gave my dog a treat. He took the treat in his mouth, walked into the living room, dropped it on a dryer sheet (which he stole from a pile of laundry), and then tried to eat the treat and the dryer sheet combined. It was like his own springtime-fresh doggie treat burrito. This follows his culinary idea of a few days ago, when he tried to eat the grout off of some tile I'd just removed.
And this is one of the smarter dog breeds. I highly encourage pet ownership.
On the recommendation of SuperBestFriend, I watched a new show called Obsession. It’s yet another in a series of shows that in theory are about helping people, but in reality are just there for you to laugh at those who need help. SuperBestFriend previously got me and NurseSexy to watch Intervention, which was fascinating for its depictions of naked meth addicts physically assualting people and inhalant-addicted chicks whining into the camera. Obsession is along the same lines, but it’s about people with obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), which- just like it sounds- causes obsessive and compulsive behaviors in people.
Last night’s episode featured two people: a math- and physics-loving nerd who obsessively works out, and a woman who showers for several hours at a time and is terrified of taking a shit. The guy who constantly works out- and he worked out eight to ten times a day- is terrified of dying, and believes that working out more will let him live long enough for scientists to find the cure for aging. Apparently he saw the 60 Minutes story on Resveratrol. (http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/01/25/60minutes/main4752082.shtml) You would assume the guy is bulky and jacked from working out all day, but A) he’s a nerd, and B) although he’s undeniably in good shape, his number of workouts per day are exaggerated slightly, because he considers a quick 10-minute run on the treadmilll to be a workout. Either way, I’m sure he’s one of the physically fit supernerds who will rule the future.
The far more interesting story is the girl who is obsessed with cleaning herself. OCD related to cleanliness is, if I remember anything from my psychology classes, one of the most common obsessions. These are the people who vacuum their house six times a day, who was their hands so much that the skin cracks and bleeds. This particular woman had anxiety about making poo, because she has to compulsively shower after dropping a deuce. Thus, she avoids eating fruits or vegetables, as those will push the poo along. And when she’s done dropping the kids at the pool, she immediately jumps in the shower. For two hours. In a row. Showering the whole time.
You see, this lady wasn’t just concerned with germs outside her body. She held up an enema to the camera and explained how she used it constantly to flush out any remaining Kellogg’s Dookie Bits from her colon. “So” you say, “she’s got the most spotless, glimmering asshole outside of a porn video.” Indeed. But it goes deeper than that.
Literally.
The woman also showed the camera a toothbrush, then described how she put it up her ass and scrubbed until she was sure she was completely clean. And again, she takes two-hour showers, so if you’re her husband, you could knock on the bathroom door and hear her yell back, “Hang on! I’m brushing my assteeth!”
That revelation alone probably made it worth my time to watch the show. But just like Intervention, you really only need to watch the first 30 minutes or so, because that’s when all the good crazy happens. Nobody really gives a shit (no pun intended) if these people get treatment and recover. The shows are popular because we get to see some unrehearsed crazy- the most fun kind of crazy.
So if you’re looking for a grade, I give the show a B-, which comes almost entirely from the laughter I got from the anal toothbrush scene. The show could’ve scored even higher if they’d answered NurseSexy’s question: “What does this clean freak do when she gets her period?”
Story of the year (in the category of Teenage Stupidity Lolz)
There has been much hand-wringing in the media lately about the downfall of newspapers, and the fact that newspapers as we know them won’t be around much longer. My general response to that is “I don’t give a shit”, because there is always a demand for news, so there will always be someone who finds a way to make money by providing news. People like news, ergo there will be news. And few things make me like the news as much as seeing the following headline:
Let’s marvel at that for a moment. First of all, that’s a 21-word headline. Headlines are supposed to be super-brief summaries of an entire story, grabbing the reader’s attention to get them to read on. Here are some typical headlines: “General Motors files bankruptcy”, “Plane disappears over Atlantic”, “Michael Jackson fondles child”. Each of those headlines are only four words long, and give you 80% of the story.
This headline about the 15-year old is different. The closest you could come to a four-word headline is “Local boy goes batshit.” Those four words would make me wonder, “Hmm, what could a boy have done to be called batshit by a reporter?” However, when a headline reveals that a teenager choked a dog, punched a cop, and shot at a man? I’m all in. You could spray my eyes with the strongest mace you have, and I’d figure out a way to read the details on that one. And after reading it, I’d rub my stinging, tear-filled eyes and cough out a “Worth it!”
A summary, delivered in bullet points for the lazy, for those who don’t care to click the link:
15 year old breaks into car, but is scared off by 23 year old
15 year old, while being chased by 23 year old, pulls a gun and fires three shots
All three shots miss, but now cops start swarming and set a perimeter
Vicious, well-trained German Shepherd police dog finds 15 year old and lunges at him
15 year old punches and kicks dog before putting it in a fucking headlock
Cop, pissed at what is happening to his dog, charges at teenager
Teenager punches and kicks cop in chest, knocking him into a canal before running away
Teen eventually apprehended, denies everything
Teen has sudden burst of memory (“Oh, those crimes. Yeah, that was me.”), confesses to everything
Teen, in a hospital bed for the bites he got from the police dog, insults and threatens the cops
You think it ends there? Oh no, folks, it gets better. The teenager only managed to steal the loose change from the console of the guy’s car. The article doesn’t give a dollar amount, but let’s assume he stole the monetary equivalent of a Big Mac. In other words, had he just given himself up after being caught breaking into the car, he probably would’ve had to do about three days of community service. So instead, this kid pulls out a gun and- I’m guessing here- yells something like “I’m not going back to the soup kitchen, man!” and unloads half a clip towards his pursuer.
And what about the cop? He got his ass handed to him by a 15 year old. I suggested to BaronWasteland that the cop will likely be stuck with the name Officer Bitchtits for the next ten years before he retires. He’ll have to hang around with cops who will introduce him to new recruits as “the guy who took a Daniel-San-style crane kick to the chest and got his ass knocked into a canal by a 15 year old”.
This kid also put a police dog in a headlock. Those German Shepherds are trained to eat the face off of people on command, but this kid sees on charging towards him and thinks, “I’m gonna punch that thing and then go for the belly-to-body suplex”? I love dogs, and I even have a police dog living in my neighborhood that I think is awesome. But if that dog were hurtling towards me, my first instinct is not “Ok, let’s put him in a sleeper hold!”. My first instinct is to uncontrollably shit myself, collapse to the ground in the fetal position, and yell “OH GOD, NOT THE FACE!” as it gnaws on me like a rawhide bone.
Of course, when a teenager does something that bizarre, the first question is, “What the hell kind of drugs is he on?” The first suspect would be PCP, which has caused some epic lolz over the years. But the late BlackLikeMe and I had a theory: people on PCP always end up taking their clothes off (just watch some old episodes of Cops…trust me). The article doesn’t mention this kid being in any state of nudity, and PCP has fallen out of favor lately. Thus, the next most likely suspect is meth.
So either this kid was on meth, or he is absolutely insane and blessed with what Borat dubbed “retard strength”. Either way, this is the story of the year and I need more details. Journalists, go forth and make us proud!
It had been my intention to spend a full week of posts hyping up the Super Bowl of Awkward, the 2009 Spelling Bee, but various life issues came up that denied me the joy of pimping one of my favorite televised competitions. SuperBestFriend and I are devoted spelling bee fans (I even skipped watching an NBA playoff game to tune in), so much so that when he sent me a text on Monday to alert me that the spelling bee was on Thursday, it was the third most exciting moment of my week, behind watching the actual spelling bee and shaving my dog’s ass hair.
Interest in the spelling bee does appear to be growing slightly, as I had at least four other people ask me if I was going to watch it. But it disappoints me that there are not legions of spelling bee fans, despite everything the bee has going for it. So in an effort to convince you or someone you know to watch the spelling bee, I offer this list of five compelling reasons you should be enjoying the Super Bowl of Awkward:
1. The reality: The spelling bee is probably the closest thing to a reality TV show that we have. On a typical “reality” show, people act differently because cameras are around, trying to appear smarter, funnier, crazier, or less chylmidia-infected. But the spelling bee features some of the most awkward kids in the country, and they’re too young to know how to “act normal” for the cameras. They haven’t been coached by someone about how to appear more interesting to get more face time on camera.
Even if a producer tried to coax them into being more TV-friendly, the kids are at an age where they’ve got braces, new-found acne, cracking voices, random boners, and prepubescent facial hair. Everyone has been through that phase; the spelling bee puts it all on television to let you cringe through your own memories of those days.
(Full disclosure: I was reminded by my mom that I actually made the county spelling bee- the one that gives the winner a chance to go to the national bee. I have only vague memories of this, but according to my mom, after I was eliminated I challenged the judge that my spelling was correct. The judge. With the printed word right in front of her. I told that lady she was wrong.)
2. The drama The spelling bee has all the suspense and drama of a sporting event. The only thing it lacks is the potential for serious physical injury, but even that goal is within reach: there have been large letters that fell off the wall during the bee (though unfortunately not onto a child), and they hand the winner a huge metal trophy, thus giving an 80 pound child the chance to hold a 40 pound trophy over his or her head. In other words, it’s going to happen at some point, it’s just a matter of when.
Until then, you can enjoy the other dramatic aspects of the show. Each year, the show does profiles of the kids in the finals, so you can feel like you have a better sense of the kids you’re rooting for. And just like a real sporting event, you will be rooting for someone. It’s inevitable. As your favorite kid is up there sweating out a word, you’ll find yourself saying “Yes!” when he or she nails it. You just will. It’s like watching Vin Diesel get hit in the face with a hammer- it just makes you feel good inside.
3. The schadenfreude The exact opposite of rooting for your favorite speller- delighting in the misery when a speller you don’t like fucks up his or her word. That smug little white boy that reminds you of your boss or some asshole you went to school with? You’ll smile a bit when the tears well up in his eyes as he gets eliminated. It’s ok, you’re supposed to do that. It’s the reason the camera zooms in on the kid’s face as the waterworks start.
The spelling bee even lets you get maximum enjoyment from the kid’s pain by forcing the loser to stand at the microphone as the judge slowly provides the correct spelling. The judge even delivers it in a slightly condescending voice, something along the lines of “Herniorrhaphy has two Rs, you stupid cunt. Listen to the way I, Lord of the Spelling Bee, spell it correctly.” When it’s your favorite speller going through the routine, you’ll think the judge is cruel and heartless. But when he’s giving the spelling bee equivalent of waterboarding to some speller you can’t stand, you’ll relish every second of it.
4. The gambling You think I’m kidding. I know you do. Who the fuck cares who wins the spelling bee, right? How about this guy at CNBC, who presumably paid him to write an article predicting the spelling bee winner. And it’s hardly even gambling anymore- it’s almost been broken down to a science. Unfortunately, this year he ended up sharing his formula, which is one that SuperBestFriend and I figured out long ago (I actually had three of the CNBC guy’s four picks as my own favorites for this year- I didn’t have his #3 kid on my list). Basically, start with a score of zero for each kid, then make the following adjustments:
Indian kid: +3. I think the U.S. ambassador to India brokered some kind of deal where we ship them our tech support jobs, and they send us kids who are really good at spelling. I haven’t been able to link this deal to the collapse of the U.S. financial markets, but I’m working on it. If you doubt that being Indian is an advantage, consider this: New Hampshire sent one kid to the spelling bee this year, and they chose the only Indian kid in the state. Asian kid: +1. Remember: This is spelling, not math. White kid: 0. One of the rare competitions where being white doesn’t guarantee success. On the other hand, all the judges are white, thus maintaining the white stranglehold on jobs involving judging others. Black kid: -5. Sorry black folk. I love you, but this just isn’t your scene. At least it doesn’t belong to whitey. Prepubscent wispy mustache: +1. There’s something about a little peach fuzz above the lip that really helps with spelling. Maybe it’s all the sex appeal emanating from the ‘stache that makes the judges give you easier words. Gimmicky spelling routine: +2. Spell by talking into your hands, writing the letters with an imaginary pen, or squatting on stage and pretending to poo out the letters. These are the techniques of a champion. Homeschooling: +1. More time to study spelling words, less time spent getting beat up for studying spelling words. Music nerdery: +2. For some reason, being a music savant helps you spell. I guess it’s easy to master seven letters when you’re used to dealing with 26. That’s a little treble clef humor for you. Enjoy that. Outgoing, engaging personality: -7. Popularity is inversely proportional to spelling bee success. First time at national spelling bee: -20. Good fucking luck, rookie.
SuperBestFriend and I pick our horses early, then mock the other contestants and rejoice in their failure. By the way, we’re both grown men who are gainfully employed.
5. The comedy There is nothing quite like the comedy of the spelling bee. You get easy laughs when Indian kids get a word where the language of origin is Hindi, or when a Jewish kid gets a word with a Yiddish root. I think the judges do this intentionally, like spelling bee affirmative action, only funnier.
Since the bee is an event filled with awkward pre-teens, you’re treated to nervous tics, terrified glances into the camera, and monotone responses to the questions of interviewers. The producers will usually put together a pre-made video that introduces you to the finalists and lets you know a little more about them, but when they’re interviewed live there is no second take. I cannot adequately describe the joy of watching one of these kids speak unscripted. Witness for yourself:
Spelling bee champ interviewed on CNN:
This year’s star, Kennyi, in a radio interview: Click to hear it
Of course, none of these can compare with the most legendary moment in spelling bee history. Twelve years ago, a homeschooled girl named Rebecca Sealfon took home the trophy in a performance that allowed white parents to finally tell their children, “You can grow up to be anything, even spelling bee champion.” She was the Barack Obama of her day. Modern day white spellers build shrines to her.
More importantly, she was a comedy gold mine. Though this video doesn’t show it, when she was spelling her words, she would step back from the microphone, whisper into her hands, then return to the mic to say a letter. She did this for every letter. It was epic. That was all topped off by her spelling of the word that won her the championship. Watch it here, and you shall never again miss watching the spelling bee:
My college roommate and I (the one I call CollegeJewmate) started another website for lolz. If you're bored and want to check it out, it's Missing Tweets. Frankly, it'll probably get renamed.
You all mocked my idea of using Wikipedia to fuck with history students. Well someone decided the concept wasn’t so crazy after all, and he ended up fooling major newspapers all around the world. My college journalism teacher- a comically patriotic Canadian- would point out that such a thing would never fool a Canadian reporter, because Canadians take their journalism seriously. She would constantly put down the American media as too tabloid, too soundbite oriented, too obsessed with a pretty face reporting the news. In other words, she was a total cunt, ay?
Besides, how else are we supposed to find out the stories that impact our lives the most? If I didn’t know that Rihanna got her face punched in, do you realize how much my life would have suffered? In a word: lots. Probably. Luckily I’ll never have to find out.
Note: This story is now horribly outdated, thus serving as further proof of how backlogged my posts were. You'll live.
The fact that BlackLikeMe and I frequently used to send emails or text messages about various news stories provides me with several instances each week where I hear some news and immediately feel the urge to discuss it with him. Then there were the times when there was far too much ground to cover with a quick email or text, so we’d call each other up. Sometimes we’d discuss serious issues, like politics or even foreign policy (after all, we’re both NPR nerds). Other times we’d take a seriously fucked up story, recount the details (if the other person hadn’t heard the news yet), and end it with a sarcastic “Yay life” or “Yay America” or even “Yay society.”
But we’d also discuss stories like this, in which a baker got in trouble for making a “drunken Negro face” cookie. Even if you clicked the link to check out that story, I’m going to reprint the cookie picture here to hammer home just how bizarre this story is.
With a story like this, which would have been worthy of a “yay society” if it was on a grander scale, we would actively think up ways that the story could have been more horrible, and try to outdo each other on how much more awful we could’ve made the situation. Now, with no BlackLikeMe to play this game with, I just end up trying to out-awful myself. It’s not nearly the same; it’s roughly the equivalent of going from a threesome with two hot chicks to beating off to thoughts of a threesome with two more-realistic chicks (or, as BlackLikeMe called them, “The Adequate”). So here’s my best solo attempt:
Me: Is it possible that he decided to name it the “drunken Negro face” cookie because he has no artistic talent? Like the painters who made blurry paintings and then said “No, it’s supposed to look shitty like that. That’s my gimmick.” Maybe this guy was trying to make a normal smiley face cookie and just fucked his shit up.
Still me: Do you think this guy has any job openings at his bakery? I’ve got this idea for a “shifty Asian eclaire”. I think it’s a winner.
Also me: That might go well with this “filthy mulatto yellow cake” I’ve been thinking of.
