BAMF

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Excellent.

The always delicious Catherine Zeta-Jones is going to be in Oceans Twelve along with (yesterday’s quite unpopular SOTD) Julia Roberts. It’s nice to be able to post about a flick that I might actually go see, since a lot of our slices are slumming it (filmwise) recently.

I’m all hopped up on a bottle of Knob Creek whiskey and GTA: SA. I’ll leave you be until morning. Good day.

Bolt sent me an e-mail simply titled “YES!” , which contained a link to excellent news for beer lovers (aka: alkies) everywhere: German brewery Klosterbraueri Neuzelle has invented an anti-aging beer. If this is true, I think we should all get together and forgive them for the Holocaust. My Jewish buddies will understand, I mean c’mon, this would repay the debt far more than any reparations ever could.

Klosterbraueri Neuzelle, a former monastery brewery in Neuzelle, Germany, says it has developed a beer named Bathbeer that is designed to slow the aging process. The beverage contains vitamins, minerals and an algae called spirulina.

The beer, which is expected to be introduced this week, claims to provide rejuvenation through either drinking or dabbing on the skin. In addition to Germany, it will be released in the United States, Poland and South Korea.

Why would anyone rub the shit on their skin? That’s like if a magic genie popped a naked and horny Keira Knightley in front of your bald ass, said that your hair would grow back if you had gratuitous sex with her or if she patted your head, and you opted for the pat. What are you, a fucking idiot? I’m frankly disgusted at the hypothetical choice you would make. Chug the beer, bang the limey, and live a good life.

Pat on the head, ugh. You make me sick.

The very preggo Julia Roberts is going to be in two upcoming flicks: Oceans Twelve and Closer. I decided we were long overdue for a gallery of, well, one of the most popular women in Hollywood. Enjoy.

I swear to the godfather of comedy himself, that if the DVD of Closer doesn’t contain Natalie Portman scenes so hot that my wang explosion causes some sort of dimensional rift, bringing forth demons from the crab nebula who wish to feast upon our very flesh, that I will murder the first thirty people I see on the day I purchase said DVD. The second thirty get free ice cream, courtesy of our friends at Baskin Robbin’s.

From the folks who brought you the secret identity of DJ Rumsfeld:

…comes the new Secretary of Education, M.C. Margaret Spellings.

Respect to Killbot for pointing out her true calling. Now if I can just get Condoleeza Rice to throw her hands in the air like she’s a true… ah fuck that. I couldn’t stare at a picture of her long enough to Photoshop it, let alone have the gastrointestinal fortitude to animate her.

So by now, you’ve probably seen The OC, which is one of the greatest shows on television. And no, I don’t think that the writing is good. No, I don’t think that the situations are plausible. And no, I don’t think that the acting can be considered anything above your average junior-high-school stage production.

However, the body on Mischa Barton certainly helps.

In case you didn’t notice, that was a new gallery on Sliceoftheday. Solo got the uploader fixed, and now…. now I’ve got a lot of work to do.

Christmas is coming early this year, as I think we’ve got a stockpile of around 100 slices. Happy days for you, late nights for me.

Here’s a little science from crookedg, which I will now drop upon thee:

From: crookedg

hey sharkey-

sorry to hear about your phone sales woes…i’m one of the countless survivors who formerly made a living selling shit to people over the phone. i can’t speak for every calling center, but i’ll give you a general overview of what your request to not be called again amounted to. basically it’s a double-fucked situation; first of all because the person trying to sell you the shit already hates you as soon as they see your name and information come up again on their computer screen. see, you would be suprised how small the pool is that these sorry slobs are fishing out of…and it takes remarkebly little effort for one to realize that the mr. sharkey who just cussed them out 2 hours ago is magically (and beyond their control..-ly) on the other end of their line again. it only takes a few trys before they automatically associate your name with the verbal abuse they previously had to endure, and despite their kind (scripted) language and seemingly sympathetic attention to your dilemma, you are now forever marked. kindness is the only weapon of the telemarketer, and they will use it savagely against you. pay close attention and you will hear the hint of satisfaction as they again apologize and promise to do all they can to make sure you aren’t bothered again.

now on to the second part of the aforementioned double-fuck: the computerized call dispositioning system. basically, after a telemarketer completes a call, they have to hit a certain number or letter on their computer that logs what happend with the call…for instance, “1” for a sale, “2” for a no sale, “3” if the person who answered was unauthorized to make a decision, etc. there is also a little box where you can add notes, for example, “spoke little english, hard to understand,” or “works late hours, do not call after 2 p.m.,” etc. where i worked, there was indeed an option to choose when people asked not to be called again, but about 2 hours after dispostioning a call with that option, it became sadly obvious that that particular code didn’t really do shit. as it turns out, first of all, it usually takes a few days just for the information to register. then when it does register, some magical computer process decides whether or not to actually take the number out of the database. opinions vary wildly about just what this mysterious computer process is…my personal belief is that no numbers are ever taken out, and calls marked as sales are only taken out after some kind of successful monetary transaction has been made.

so, that’s basically the thing of it. you’re dealing with miserable people who hate their jobs, who couldn’t really help you anyway, even if they really wanted to. my advice is, next time they call, ask right away to speak to a supervisor. if they ask why, which they probably won’t (any time a supervisor is on their line is time that they aren’t making calls, and appreciated), don’t give them a reason, just insist on speaking to a supervisor. usually, the supervisors aren’t scripted and able to talk a little more freely. explain the situation to them, being as polite as possible, and ask to be removed from the calling database. the supervisor will then assure you that the problem will be taken care of, at which point he or she will most likely disposition the call as a “do not call” call, which, as you now know, doesn’t do shit.

there were rumors about some kind of federal do not call list, where you have to pay a certain amount of money to be put on some list that makes you invisible to telemarketers, but i don’t really know anything about that. just keep checkin the caller ID man, if it’s an 800 number or private or blocked or something, don’t answer. take it from someone on the inside, it’s really the only tried and true method to avoide phone sales. however, if you still feel the need to have any fun at their expense, try to do it in a non-verbally abusive manner. for instance, i once had one guy on the phone for over an hour because he promised he would buy the service if i could name the wwf wrestler whose theme music he was playing over the phone. i knew he wouldn’t buy it, but it got me some semi-legit time off the phone and i’m pretty sure he got some kind of mild amusement out of it.

The WWF wrassler thing had me laughing. I think I’ll tell the next SBC rep who calls that I will purchase a new rate plan, if they can tell me whether I am actually taking a shit, or if I’m just faking.

Thanks for the info crookedg, I feel a little less guilt regarding my constant tormenting of these pricks. Of course, since I felt no guilt before, I now have negative guilt, which I beleive to be spite. And spite, as we all know, is what makes the world go ’round.

[ Border Inspectors Find Girl Sealed In Piñata ] – You really just can’t make up shit this good.

Makes you wonder if she was going to be the prize at someone’s fiesta de cumpleaños.

[ Somebody Kill This Man. Please ]

He seems to beleive that bloggers should be Time’s “Persons of the Year” for 2004. While we’re at it, why not nominate Paris Hilton, since she was in the news a lot more than a bunch of self-obsessed punks who think that just because they grab news from Reuters and use it to promote their own personal agenda, they’ve made some sort of mark on the world.

Don’t get me wrong, I realize that I do similar shit here, but I don’t make it out to be more than the sum of its parts. I grab news from the web, I write commentary about it, and I post pictures of chicks with big tits. It’s entertainment, not fucking rocket science. Just because “blogging culture” was on CBS news that one time doesn’t mean you’re important. They do stories about fucking Carrot Top folks, get over yourselves.

Dammit. Why don’t the chicks at the McDonald’s around here look like this? (thanks Evil Homer)

All of the chicks who man the counters around here are messican. And not the hot messicans that I love so much, these are the fat, or pregnant, or fat and pregnant beasts with penciled-on eyebrows. And it seems that whenever they crap out another Catholic onto the streets, they’re knocked up again.

And no, I’m not driving to fucking Kentucky to see hot blondes manning the counters. I won’t even drive three blocks to eat breakfast sandwiches there.

** UPDATE ** If you’re looking for the pictures, they might be in a certain forum dedicated to pie that you might want to check.