Category: Rants

I guess we finally get to find out how many New Yorkers it takes to screw in a lightbulb.*

But seriously, news anchors alleviating fears of terrorism every time something abnormal happens is getting a little over the top. It’s honestly getting to the point I expect Rob Dibble to chime in on Baseball Tonight to assure everyone that Curt Schilling ‘adjusting himself’ was just a natural thing that every ballplayer, even Dibs himself, does and is not a result of an al-Qaeda plot to put itching powder in his jock.

I can just see it now, we invade the Dominican Republic for sabotaging our national pastime.

*note to Leno: if you steal that one you little fuck, I’ll cut your heart out with a dull, rusty spoon like a Puerto Rican whore. Why a spoon? Because it’s dull you twit, it’ll hurt more. And rusty so that if you truly are a heartless bastard, the tetanus will get you.

UFOS to blame for power failures.

How much do ufologists get paid? Do they receive federal funding? If so, can America PLEASE HAVE ITS FUCKING MONEY BACK?!

Seriously, get this bastard a tin foil hat and ship him out to a trailer in the middle of New Mexico where he won’t make any television appearances within the near future.

Or maybe let him start a suicide cult. That’d be a quick and easy way of getting rid of some of the lunatics in this country. It’s time to thin out their numbers, damnit! This guy would draw followers like moths to a flame…like lemmings to a cliff…like Evercrackheads to Internet Cafes and Krispy Kreme donuts.

I hate stupid people. That goes without saying. Driving is the worst. It’s like TIMMAY said, I’m not a Chick Magnet, I’m a Retard Magnet. Some asshat AIM’s me asking about my SWG credits. I really wish I’d saved the conversation. Seriously. He asks if I’ll send him half the credits, then he pays me, then I send him the rest. I ask him if he goes to buy a dozen donuts (Homer: mmmmm … Donuts….) does the baker let him eat six, then pay, then he gets the other six? He says that other sellers have let him do that. I tell them to buy from them, then, I’m not as dumb as he apparently is for thinking I’d fall for some shitty stupidass scam.

I get behind the wheel and I swear people make it their mission to bring out Road Rage in me. Cut in front of me doing 10 miles under the speed limit? I remember the days when I would drive a lot more aggressively and run people off of the freeway…. So I’m out with Jasek and some people that I sort of know. I’m moderately trying to impress one of the girls along with us. Jasek says, “Orion ran someone off the freeway once.” “No I didn’t.” “D00d, it was a blue pickup truck on highway 52.” “You were there? Fuck, I thought I was alone…. er… I never did that!” Oh well. So some n00b in SWG is completely boggled at how he could /tell one of my characters and I respond with the other. Wow, isn’t that confusing? Well, not really. How about you just go on your way and leave me alone before your stupidity pisses me off?

I think I should get hot on my book. I’ve got this great big signing tour lined up but the book isn’t even done yet. Of course, I take time out of gaming to rant like this, but I don’t take time out to actually write. I think that that’s a problem. Oh yeah, I hate cats, too. It’s like that saying. Most men will say they like cats. However, when women aren’t looking, real men kick cats. This reminds me of what it was during UO times… same first line, second one becomes, however, when women aren’t looking, real men shoot arrows into cats. Gosh I miss that game sometimes. Not enough to pay for it again, mind you, but, you know….

I’ll start this off like this: Son of a bitch.
I was going to get drunk tonight with a good friend of mine (female) who I may have a “thing” with. My mom and one of my two sisters are vacationing out of town and my other sister was going to be at work/with her boyfriend all night. My dad was going to be playing volleyball/at the bar with the volleyball crowd and not getting home until 12ish. My friend was planning on just crashing here and going home in the morning after my dad left for work. Alcohol source was the boyfriend and that was going to work just perfect, no problems there. I went up to school to try to get classes (that didn’t work, another boring rant in itself) and when I came home it was raining. I look at my dad and mention to him that playing volleyball in the rain is going to suck. He replies “Yeah, it would, but volleyball’s over. Our last week was last week.”
fuck
I call my friend and tell her that plans have fell through and we’ll have to do it another time. On the upside I did get to hang out with some friends and watch “The Boondock Saints” so that was a plus.

Sometimes, parody comes damn close to reality:

Click

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STOCKHOLM — Idiots in the office are just as hazardous to your health as cigarettes, caffeine or greasy food, an eye-opening new study reveals. In fact, those dopes can kill you!

Stress is one of the top causes of heart attacks — and working with stupid people on a daily basis is one of the deadliest forms of stress, according to researchers at Sweden’s Lindbergh University Medical Center.

The author of the study, Dr. Dagmar Andersson, says her team studied 500 heart attack patients, and were puzzled to find 62 percent had relatively few of the physical risk factors commonly blamed for heart attacks.

“Then we questioned them about lifestyle habits, and almost all of these low-risk patients told us they worked with people so stupid they can barely find their way from the parking lot to their office. And their heart attack came less than 12 hours after having a major confrontation with one of these oafs.

“One woman had to be rushed to the hospital after her assistant shredded important company tax documents instead of copying them. A man told us he collapsed right at his desk because the woman at the next cubicle kept asking him for correction fluid — for her computer monitor.

“You can cut back on smoking or improve your diet,” Dr. Andersson says, “but most people have very poor coping skills when it comes to stupidity — they feel there’s nothing they can do about it, so they just internalize their frustration until they finally explode.”

Stupid co-workers can also double or triple someone’s work load, she explains. “Many of our subjects feel sorry for the drooling idiots they work with, so they try to cover for them by fixing their mistakes. One poor woman spent a week rebuilding client records because a clerk put them all in the ‘recycle bin’ of her computer and then emptied it — she thought it meant the records would be recycled and used again.”

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Aw, come on, what about the dumbasses who try killing others and themselves through sheer stupidity?

So what if the articles are old, I’ve been in New Zealand for the past month. The top stories there are about rabid sheep and Netball. Cut me some slack.

Speaking of candy and vomit: I once had a baseball game and they gave us all gelooze (that faux kool-aid drink with the gelatin inside) afterwards. So I drank one, maybe two.

Then my family took me to eat at Bennigan’s. And I love French onion soup, so I ordered a bowl and a buffalo chicken sandwich.

I ate the soup. No problem. 5 minutes later…oh I don’t feel good. So I walked to the bathroom with my bro and made it inside the door but then puked all over the floor. And by all over the floor, I mean all over the floor.

I felt much better.

Ate my buffalo chicken sandwich, too.

Best tasting vomit, ever.

Does anyone else watch this show? That fucking Asian guy Dat Phan wasn’t even funny when the show first started, how the fuck did he win? His whole set was about how funny his mom talks cause she’s Asian, and thats what the general public wants? FUCK the general public, I’m going to go find everyone who voted for him and kill them. We already have Margaret Cho to make stupid ass Asian stereotypes, we don’t need another. Ralphie was the funniest one there, he weighed 500 pounds, and his girlfriend was hot, he deserved to win.

HOBE SOUND, Florida (AP) — A woman who won thousands of dollars playing bingo was shot in the stomach early Monday morning when she refused to give the money to would-be robbers, sheriff’s officials said.

Pamela Anderson, 39, won $5,900 at bingo Sunday night near West Palm Beach before leaving with a friend for her home in Hobe Sound, about 30 miles north. A car with two men and two women trailed behind her. When Anderson arrived home early Monday, one man pointed a gun at her and told her to open her car door and give him the money.

When she refused, he shot her. Anderson then tried to drive to the hospital but started to faint and crashed into construction barricades.

She was taken by helicopter to a West Palm Beach hospital and was listed in critical condition Monday. Her passenger was unhurt.

The suspects didn’t get any of Anderson’s money, authorities said.

I have problems with several parts of this. Before I get to those, let us first review what we learn from this incident. First, we learn what a 39 year old Hobe Sound Florida woman’s life is worth. If her own actions are any indication, it is worth $5900. If she dies, I’m sure her family will engrave on her tombstone a loving tribute to her valient death in the name of bingo winnings.

Now…First off I noticed her name is Pam Anderson. We don’t even have to touch that one. I’ll let it slide and you can just make up a punchline in your own head.

Second, the carload of redneck scumbags trailed the woman with the cash for THIRTY MILES. They then SHOT her. The worst part about this is that they DIDN’T EVEN GET THE FUCKING MONEY!!! Its not like there was just ONE scumbag, or two. There were FOUR and none of them had the good criminal instinct to grab the goddam swag after they capped the lady? I’m not condoning their actions…its just that I was raised to do things 100% and I tend to get a little irate when I hear about a job done half-assedly. This incomplete robbery is a direct assault on my core values! Hell, when you factor in the costs of gas and ammo, the crooks actually LOST money in this deal. Plus 10 evil points for the shooting and minus 5 for running away empty handed

Third… “Her Passenger was unhurt.” The passenger stayed in the car!? What in the wide wide world of sports led to THAT development?

I can imagine what the dialogue must have been like in that car following the shooting. Actually, check that. I can imagine what the “choose your own adventure” version of this story would look like.

“Your friend has been shot! Do you:
1. Go inside the house and call an ambulance (turn to the next page)
2. Have her lie down in the back of the car while you drive her to the hospital (turn to page 78)
3. Tell her that she had better step on it if she wants to get to the ER before she bleeds to death (turn to page 100)”

That must have been some kind of crazy carnival ride until Pam passed out and crashed the car. I’m sure some kind of ironic song was playing on the radio the whole time.
Radio: “takin care of business…everyday! takin care of business…everyway!”
Passenger: Hey Pam I can see your ribcage through your bullet wound and its making me a little uncomfortable.

Oh well…look for the “driver with a gunshot wound” thrill ride to be making its way to carnivals everywhere in 2004. It will be replacing the tilt-a-whirl.

If you don’t read Get Fuzzy this won’t make any sense to you. However, if you don’t read Get Fuzzy then you should. It’s a wonderful comic, one of the best out there right now. If you don’t have a chance to read the comics you should check the archives starting on the 16th to understand what I’m about to go off about. Now, to commence with the going-off:
What the HELL was with that story?!? Bucky was IN the monkey cage. This was the culmination of Bucky’s existance. The monkey’s advancing on Bucky, who is armed with a spork and the comic cuts out. You assume it’s so that the next day you can start with the real funny “Bucky v. the giant monkey” strips. WRONG. You get Rob and Satchel sitting around in the office and a few semi-funny jokes while Bucky is just handed back to them. I kept waiting for him to go back to the monkey cage to finish what he started. I was hoping that Darby Connely, was playing a joke on the readers by building up to an awesome story and then only pretending to snatch it away from us. Now I know that he is indeed only a cruel, cruel shell of a man who lives to hurt others for his own amusement.

Have you seen the latest subway commercial? My memory is a bit fuzzy because I usually turn my head and look away when a formerly big fat fuck comes on the screen and tries to sell me sandwiches with too much fucking bread. Subway diet? Yeah…I’ll believe that one when that tubby bitch goes shirtless and reveals a lack of lipo scars. Then I’ll vomit all over my living room.

Actually, the latest commercial features a pair of formerly fat fucks. They appear to be at a BBQ of some sort preaching about their combined weight loss on the Subway diet and lo and behold…they’re black…er I mean they’re “URBAN.”

Clearly, this is Subway’s answer to McDonalds’ “Get your Mac on” ads which feature inner city youths pounding tasty Big Macs like they were Mountain Dew or sweet poverty inducing crack. (You thought you were getting out of that last paragraph without any mention of crack!? Ah…you’re quite silly if you thought that.)

Marketing Subway to fatass poor people is bound to have its problems. First off, Subway isn’t free. Hell, its not even cheap. Its even LESS cheap when you’re buying it for yourself AND your 5 kids. Its most definitely more expensive than the $0 it costs for 5 pounds of chicken (legs) and a box of HOHO’s on food stamps. Second of all, when a poor motherfucker hears “Subway diet” he assumes it has something to do with standing on an actual subway platform begging for change until he has enough to buy cigarettes and booze. Finally, all the Subway in the world isn’t gonna help you lose that fat ass if you present it with a plate of rib tips and fries as an encore.

For now Subway, if you’re reading this, lets market the trendy expensive diets to fatass suburban housewives and let the poor people diet the way they always have, by skipping dinner, eating a few hostess cakes and government cheese and running away from the occassional bullet or police car.