BT and I went to paint some pottery last week, and I suppose I should have known it would turn into a showdown since he's ridiculously competitive. If you think I am kidding, here's a short list of things he has challenged me on so far:
Better hair? (first date)
SAT scores? (first date)
Running speed (ongoing)
Scrabble abilities (yet he won't play scrabulous...typical)
Chess (he can SO have this one)
Risk (he's asian, I went to MIT, who will prevail?!)
FLOWER ARRANGEMENT SKILLZ (no comment)
Relative levels of gangster-ness. Yo.
The conversation went something like this:
BT: You are so going to regret suggesting this place when I make your work look like "Baby's First Painting"
Me: Have you recently developed some sort of palsy? I'm not judging, I'm just scrambling for some explanation for your total lack of motor skills.
BT: You are so posting this on your blog and taking a poll as to who has the better piece after we get them back.
Me: I'm so not. Facebook, maybe.
BT: Fine, but you know I won't be able to see the results then.
Me: Gosh, hadn't thought about that.
BT: You have to be honest about the results even if you don't get a single vote.
Me: Maybe.
BT: I will not join facebook just to see the results.
Me: *manical cackle*
We noticed at some point that all of the other couples were working cooperatively on a single, shared piece, which made us feel a little guilty for about 30 seconds, until BT was smart enough to point out that while those shmucks were working together to make cheesy pottery, we were working together to make each other laugh. And isn't that just so special?
My co-workers and I were spending the day doing the usual sorts of things: going for coffee, playing darts, discussing our cats, your basics, when I remembered that a long time ago I'd been playing around with the video editing software my mac has, and had posted a couple of videos of my cat Preggers on YouTube. Yes, I actually did that. Naturally, when I remembered that fact we immediately went to YouTube and watched them.
Here is the first one I made, which is basically an homage to Pregger's skillz in the bloodsport of fetching:
You can't tell, since you're probably watching the embedded video rather than going to YouTube, but that video has a perfect 5/5 rating. Three whole people (I'm assuming here, I don't mean to exclude the amputee audience) were involved in the voting, but that's not the best part. My coworker noticed that there were TWO comments. I assumed that that must have been Rachel and Andy, but NO! Two people I don't even know took the time to comment on my video of my cat playing fetch. Seriously. And they said it was both "nice!!" and "funny!"
I was obviously already pretty giddy, but we decided to risk dampening the high by taking a look at my other video. This one is also of Preggers, but this time she's chasing her tail. Well, trying, but she's too fat to reach it.
Clearly comedy gold. It was at this point that I realized that not only do both of my videos have a PERFECT 5/5 rating, but that I'm famous. And I can back that up with cold hard numbers, people. I noticed that the second video had four, count 'em FOUR, links to it. Again, I assumed that probably all four were thanks to Andy and Rachel, but when I took a look, nope. People I don't know. Are watching videos of my cat. And THEN LINKING TO IT.
I really can't convey how bizarre I think that is. Imagine your five year old's finger-painting was featured on the news. Actually, with FOX on the air that's not entirely unlikely, so bad example. Back to the point - I've gotten 11 clicks from one site. I have no idea what the site is about since it's written in spanish, and my spanish is limited to 'quesadilla' and 'chupa mi en los cabres', which is either 'fuck me in the goat ass' or 'can I have the check motherfucker'...really the same thing, hence my confusion on the specifics. Therefore I don't know what this site is about and I'm sooooooooooooo curious. Also, it has a flag (I'm assuming a national flag) in the address bar icon that I can't find a reference to anywhere on the vast information super-highway. I really can't fathom what sort of blog readership would actually choose to watch these videos. I'm sort of picturing some grandma's crocheting circle, except there are no crocheting pictures, or needlepoint, or even other horribly filmed videos of animals doing vaguely amusing things. The title 'Peloton' of course brings to mind Lance Armstrong, but I'm skeptical it's him.
At 450+ views each for the videos, I've personally contributed to over 30 completely and utterly wasted man-hours. I must know how I managed that. I'd love to shoot for 300, or even something really gauche like 2000 (a work year), but I can't do it alone! If anyone has more time on their hands than I do, or speaks spanish, please click on over to http://www.peloton69.com/blog/
and figure out what the hell the blog is about and where it's based so
that I can do a properly dubbed version of the video for my fans. And, not that I don't trust my friends of course, but, assholes? DON'T GO GIVE ME A SHITTY RATING JUST TO FUCK WITH ME. My 5/5 is all I have going for me in this world, don't take it away.
Quite possibly the best youtube video ever. Let's all bow our heads and take a moment to thank Jeebus for the beautiful thing that is Public Access Television.
Periodically J and I will spend some quality time talking about life and issues, you know, the important stuff. Yesterday the topic happened to be whether skunks were super cute or not - we both emphatically agreed they, like, TOTALLY are, and people need to get over the whole stink thing. Other hot topics have been "The air purifier: complete waste of space, or loud too?" We are Teh Deep.
However, a recurring question has been this: what differentiates your average blog from a blog with a ton of traffic. How, for example, did Dooce become Dooce? Actually Dooce isn't a good example, since Heather obviously sold her poor little fallen-mormon soul to the devil in return for chiseled cheekbones and a chance to whore herself out on the internet. Who knew a heathen's soul was worth so much? Well, apparently it is, and on top of her soul-selling, she's a fabulous writer too, but whatever.
As for my own blog, my stats show that the traffic on this site falls into two categories. The first category is comprised entirely of a small Mexican child who likes the colors. Hola Miguel! The second category is made up of people who found their way over here through a search engine. You would think the occasional person would search on cyclothymia and find their way over, though of course the blog would be a disappointment if they did...but then again, maybe they'd love it...no hate it...no love it. HA! Mocking mental illness is always such fun, but to get back on topic, no, nobody searches on cyclothymia - all roads leading to this little blog seem to begin at "www.searchengine.com/find.asp?subject=whale-tail".
Why? Well, one of my posts a while back not only referenced the whale-tail phenomenon, but also included a picture of a particularly horrible one. Stats don't lie, and people, that picture has generated a thousand times more traffic than my little purple-loving amigo Miguel. Sometimes I like to envision the whale-tail enthusiasts' responses upon finding themselves looking at my photo of a singularly unattractive whale-tail.
*fap fap fap fap* *click* *droop*
Maybe I should change my tag-line to "5 Seconds To A Limp Penis"? Ah, who am I kidding, internet porn surfers are way too dedicated and determined to be discouraged by one misleading link. I'm just one sticky mouse-click out of millions. Sniff.
So, in an effort to do a better job of pissing off more drunken, naked, and swollen college boys, I give you:
I've titled it: Jessica Simpson, Jessica Alba, Kiera Knightley, Scarlett Johansson flaunting whale tails while naked and sucking cock. Search engines, start your indexes!
Also, my accomplishment for today so far has been finally hammering into my brain that 'occasional' is spelled with one 's'. I swear to jeebus that I'm generally capable of using the basics of the english language without spellcheck, but that word has tripped me up since I was but a wee tyke.
I've been watching the American Idol initial rounds this season. The horrendous auditions are hilarious. In other words, yes, I am pure, delicious evil. There has been all sorts of brouhaha about a few of the auditions - the public seems to be up in arms about how incredibly cruel the judges have been this season. Um. Hi. It's true I'm not really a fan of the show, so maybe I just misunderstood, but as far as I knew, that was half the point? Especially in the early rounds? Personally, I'm actually more disturbed by the public reaction to the auditions than the show itself.
The two at the center of the debate, Jonathan Jayne and Kenneth Briggs, were profiled as having become fast friends while waiting in line for the show. They were pretty weird and/or awkward in some of their speech, but clearly nice and having a lot of fun together. Jonathan Jayne was very overweight and had a bit of a speech impediment. Kenneth Briggs was very short and had bulging eyes.
So basically, they start their auditions, and neither one does very well. Jonathan Jayne might have a voice, but it needs a lot of training, or it was just a baaaaaaaad audition. Kenneth Briggs was worse. Simon did make a crack about Briggs' bulging eyes, saying he looked like a bush baby, and both are told in no uncertain terms that they have no future in the contest. However, overall the judges were not any harsher on them than they were on other contestants, and had some soothing words for them as well, particularly Jayne. Yeah, the judges are harsh, but frankly I REALLY wonder how most of these people ever end up walking in the room. I know I can't sing. I can hear myself. Can these people not hear themselves?
So, now to the disturbing part - Jonathan Jayne identified himself in a post-show interview as mildly autistic. Since he did so, talk show hosts and editorialists all over the country, including the NY Times, have been scampering up onto their soapboxes to say how horrible it was for Idol to exploit a mentally challenged person. Some have called him retarded or mentally deficient, and others have referred to the fact that he participated in the Special Olympics as evidence that the show is going to hell for featuring him.
I have to ask here, though, who exactly is being inappropriately judgmental and ignorant here? Hint, it's not the show. First of all, mildly autistic does not equal retarded. I find it amazing that, despite all the publicity autism and Asperger's has gotten in the last few years, these major publications are still so uninformed about what the autism spectrum is all about. It's also kind of ironic that autism is frequently correlated with musical gifts, so if you're going to have a neurological disorder and want to be on Idol...well, autism is the way to go.
Idol contestants are warned multiple times prior to their auditions that they may be harshly criticized and featured in unflattering ways. This is the sixth season of the show, so everyone knows exactly what the possible outcome of the audition room could be. Yet, essentially the public thinks that Jayne, as an adult who self-identifies as having a mild disability, is not capable of judging the risks involved with pursuing his dream. And they think that the show is what's offensive? Oh, I'm sure it's never occurred to him that he's fat. He probably has no clue that he's not considered all that cool. I bet he received nothing but overwhelmingly positive feedback in school, on the street, in the fucking fitting room, so it must have come as quite a shock to discover that not everyone felt he was pretty much perfect.
As for Kenneth Briggs...well, sad to say, but he DOES look like a bush baby with those eyes, and if that didn't occur to everyone watching before Simon said it, well, I guess I really am just an above average bitch. Briggs knows what he looks like, and has no doubt heard himself sing at some point, and yet he still walked in the room. That was his choice, he took a risk because he wanted to.
The last time I checked, disabled folk didn't really want our pity, and prefer having opportunities and making their own choices to the extent that they can, over being protected for their own good. Frankly, a walk down the street proves that many, many people, left to their own devices, can't dress or style themselves with much success. The entire fox news network is proof that millions of people should be in diapers and helmets for their own protection.
Watch this clip before continuing on, if you haven't seen it already.
A friend of ours watched this bit of the show in awkward silence and then said how mean it was of the show to have her on. Why? "Well, they're just laughing at her because she's overweight, do they let any fat people continue on on the show?" Seriously? And it's the show that's bad? You watch a girl doing a ridiculously gimmicky audition, and you assume that she's not going to make the show because she's fat. It's not because she's not a great singer. It's not because she's a one trick pony. It's because she's fat. That's all this friend of ours saw, and frankly, I think that's pretty illustrative of what I'm so horrified by here. Yes, in answer to your question, they do "let" fat people continue on, and some of them *gasp* actually do well. The ones who can sing.
For the last time people, assumptions and prejudices disguised as political correctness and left unspoken are still assumptions and prejudices. At least when prejudice is out in the open it can be discussed and dealt with.
In parting, I will leave you with some words of wisdom from our retarded, special olympics friend, Jonathan Jayne:
"If you're going to make it in TV, the first time you're going to
fail, the second time you're going to fail, the third time you're still
going to fail. The fourth time you might get somewhere, the fifth time
you might get something really good, and the sixth time you're going to
be a star."
He also observed that the negativity "doesn't make me look bad. It does make Simon, Paula and Randy look bad."
Save your pity for people who need it, he obviously doesn't. And with that, I'll jump down from my own soapbox.
So, it has finally happened. I signed up for a MySpace account. There is some major crow to be eaten, since it was only, what, three or four weeks ago that I was mercilessly mocking some friends for having MySpace accounts.
I still firmly believe that the only people who should have MySpace accounts are 12 year old girls, and the 30+ year old men who love them, it's just that I've also decided that since I'm 29 now, I've got less than a year to pursue my lifelong dream of getting a sex change operation and finding that one true pre-pubescent love. Really. Or it might have been some friends telling me about some networking crap on the site, I don't really remember. I was pretty drunk at the time.
Anyway, if anyone else has an account and isn't too ashamed to admit it, feel free to let me know, because I need friends. The only one I have right now is Tom, and he seems to be pretty needy/slutty. Oooh, I'm the administrator, and I'm going to be your friend! God, I don't even know you Tom. Back. The. Fuck. Up. I think you're just messing with my head and pretending to be my friend, and I don't want any part of it.
Calling all Harry Potter fans: the title for the final book has been announced. If you go to JK Rowling's site you can do a cute little puzzle to find out the title. Otherwise you can just google "harry potter final book title" and ruin all the fucking fun. Your choice.
Since I have an astoundingly short attention span I haven't been that traumatized by the wait for this last book. I read the sixth one, fretted horribly for about a week, and then promptly moved on to other pressing issues. Like when the next season of Scrubs would be coming out? Was it cancelled or not? Just freaking tell us! Now, however, all of the fretting is renewed, and I absolutely cannot wait for the final book. Look Ms. Rowling, I can tell when I'm being manipulated, and it is not cool, not cool at a...hey, look, something shiny! Ooh, navy seals!*
*Several people have asked me recently where the expression "Ooh, navy seals!" comes from. I find that rather disconcerting, since I've been saying it for a couple of years, which means that people have been thinking I'm totally random without mentioning it for a couple of years, but that's fine. It's a quote from Clerks.
I never watched Sesame Street while growing up - we didn't have a TV most of the time, and when we did we typically only got one or two channels because we were so far out in the boonies. Yes, weep for me my friends...no Sesame Street, no Electric Company, no Mr. Rogers. It explains a lot doesn't it?
When I was a little bit older I did get to watch shows at my godparents house, but by then Sesame Street was no longer de rigueur; instead the Smurfs, He-Man, and the Flintstones were my drugs of choice. When I turned nine the Smurfs were preempted by some no-talent pansy ass show I refused to watch; I went through weeks of withdrawl. You know that dead baby crawling around on the ceiling in Trainspotting when Renton's parents make him go cold-turkey? That was me - the dead baby, not Renton. I considered myself to be dead, my life was certainly over, and I crawled around wailing about it for so long I'm surprised my mother didn't take a frying pan to my skull.
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