Wednesday, April 29, 2009
If you ever get dumped...
If you ever get dumped, the best possible outcome is stumbling around drunk in your living room, singing Aerosmith songs. Bonus points if you get a concussion while trying to play air-guitar.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Remarkably Unremarkable
All things considered, I think I've lead a remarkably unremarkable life. I'm thankful for this, since it is the thing that allows me the time to think about the things I like to think about and do the things I like to do. There is a word for what that makes me, but it isn't coming to me at the moment.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Revelations
Look here. I've got something to tell you that will be usable in the real world. That's right, what I've got to tell you is mad important and will affect you directly! Allow me to explain:
This morning, I stepped into my closet and was reaching up, trying to turn the light on. Then, like magic, it dawned on me... I was having difficulty turning the light on because my light isn't one with a hanging cord, which I was trying to activate, but one with a switch that was on the wall. Woah. What a revelation. You see, it was a revelation, because it was revealed to me that the light switch was on the wall.
Now you're probably like, "Hold up. This guy can't even remember what kind of light he has in his closet, why am I going to listen to this?" That answer is simple. It was just a mistake. But forget about that story, here is a different one:
I have always hated Connan Obrien (I don't know if I spelled his name right, I don't care), for as long as I can remember, but only this week did it really hit me... See, I don't actually hate Connan Obrien. I hate his show, and I hate it because of the writers. Now, that might seem really obvious to all of you, but let me explain. Anybody can be funny. Anybody can tell a joke or get a rise out of people. And some people are really funny, and can always get people to laugh or bust out all crazy style or whatever. But it takes more than that to be a comedy writer. A comedy writer isn't just funny, because nobody wants to pay tickets to see someone who is just average funny. Nobody wants the fucking mail man to have a show where he talks about mail in a witty way all day. Comedy writers have to be 100% funny because that is the maximum amount of funniness possible.
Now, the writers for the Connan show, they're funny. And that's not good enough. But the average person doesn't realize it, because it's still funny. You watch the show and you're like, 'Eh, that was funny. ha ha.' but you don't actually consciously realize that you're just watching somebody's lame bullshit. Like Connan reads the news and some kid got neglected by his parents or something and he makes a reference to Home Alone. Any fucker can pump out that kind of trash it doesn't even take effort, but you still watch it, because it's kind of funny.
So see, I don't hate Connan, and he's actually an ok guy it seems (did a little research), but the people who write for his show are just not that good. And that's what we call a revelation! I revel in the fact that I've got Connan Obrien on my side now. He's on the team, with me. REVELATIONS. That's what this whole thing is about.
See, in the bible, there is an entire chapter about revelations. Why? Why is there an entire chapter?! Because the bible is like instructions for life, and it wants you to know that you need to have more revelations so you're not walking around like a dumbass. Think about it: If everybody had revelations all the time, we'd all be really really smart probably! And you wouldn't have to worry where your keys are all the damn time. Just be like, 'Ah! There they are! All I had to do was look where they were, and then point at them, and tada!'. What you do now is 'I'm wandering around my house like a dumbass, because I put my keys somewhere and don't know where. I'm actually so stupid that I did something, and don't know what I did.'
So how does this affect you? You can put the bible to work for you TODAY. Here is what you do:
Two or three times a day, stop what the hell you're doing, and just try to figure something out. Like look around you for stuff, or think about what's going on, and just figure something out. Then the next time someone asks you 'What's up?', you can tell them you're not as stupid because you did something good for your mind!
Ingest it! I'm Dr. Dave and I just made a house call to your brain!
This morning, I stepped into my closet and was reaching up, trying to turn the light on. Then, like magic, it dawned on me... I was having difficulty turning the light on because my light isn't one with a hanging cord, which I was trying to activate, but one with a switch that was on the wall. Woah. What a revelation. You see, it was a revelation, because it was revealed to me that the light switch was on the wall.
Now you're probably like, "Hold up. This guy can't even remember what kind of light he has in his closet, why am I going to listen to this?" That answer is simple. It was just a mistake. But forget about that story, here is a different one:
I have always hated Connan Obrien (I don't know if I spelled his name right, I don't care), for as long as I can remember, but only this week did it really hit me... See, I don't actually hate Connan Obrien. I hate his show, and I hate it because of the writers. Now, that might seem really obvious to all of you, but let me explain. Anybody can be funny. Anybody can tell a joke or get a rise out of people. And some people are really funny, and can always get people to laugh or bust out all crazy style or whatever. But it takes more than that to be a comedy writer. A comedy writer isn't just funny, because nobody wants to pay tickets to see someone who is just average funny. Nobody wants the fucking mail man to have a show where he talks about mail in a witty way all day. Comedy writers have to be 100% funny because that is the maximum amount of funniness possible.
Now, the writers for the Connan show, they're funny. And that's not good enough. But the average person doesn't realize it, because it's still funny. You watch the show and you're like, 'Eh, that was funny. ha ha.' but you don't actually consciously realize that you're just watching somebody's lame bullshit. Like Connan reads the news and some kid got neglected by his parents or something and he makes a reference to Home Alone. Any fucker can pump out that kind of trash it doesn't even take effort, but you still watch it, because it's kind of funny.
So see, I don't hate Connan, and he's actually an ok guy it seems (did a little research), but the people who write for his show are just not that good. And that's what we call a revelation! I revel in the fact that I've got Connan Obrien on my side now. He's on the team, with me. REVELATIONS. That's what this whole thing is about.
See, in the bible, there is an entire chapter about revelations. Why? Why is there an entire chapter?! Because the bible is like instructions for life, and it wants you to know that you need to have more revelations so you're not walking around like a dumbass. Think about it: If everybody had revelations all the time, we'd all be really really smart probably! And you wouldn't have to worry where your keys are all the damn time. Just be like, 'Ah! There they are! All I had to do was look where they were, and then point at them, and tada!'. What you do now is 'I'm wandering around my house like a dumbass, because I put my keys somewhere and don't know where. I'm actually so stupid that I did something, and don't know what I did.'
So how does this affect you? You can put the bible to work for you TODAY. Here is what you do:
Two or three times a day, stop what the hell you're doing, and just try to figure something out. Like look around you for stuff, or think about what's going on, and just figure something out. Then the next time someone asks you 'What's up?', you can tell them you're not as stupid because you did something good for your mind!
Ingest it! I'm Dr. Dave and I just made a house call to your brain!
Friday, April 24, 2009
With Jon on Bees
BigDave: Jon do you know how much honey a bee makes in one day?
BigDave: Nobody does. Because you can't get close to bees.
BigDave: Jon are you there?
Also check out the latest White Ninja comic.
BigDave: Nobody does. Because you can't get close to bees.
BigDave: Jon are you there?
Also check out the latest White Ninja comic.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Gay Marriage and Pageant Losers
I recently made a crass comment on Facebook because I enjoy offending people. Basically I said that Miss California was an idiot and she deserved to lose the Miss USA pageant. But... one of my true friends, and a great man, commented and said that he felt I was incorrect to speak poorly of her. I think very highly of this man, so I feel I am obliged to elaborate for the general public.
This is more of a rant than me making an attempt at comedy, so you may just want to pass. Also if you don't know about the whole Miss USA contestant being afraid of gay people, you might want to check up on that before continuing. The usual disclaimer applies: If you are capable of being offended, are gay, straight, liberal, conservative, jewish, conscious, or dead, please do not read this posting. This is best read while listening to 'Refugee' by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.
I'm a cynical douche, so don't bother to correct me here, but I don't think highly of pageant women. Don't get me wrong, if you've got it, flaunt it and all that shit, sure, but being in beauty pageants isn't about that. It's about being the best, whether it be in your city, state, country, or the world. But the best what? The best looking? Nope, because they have talent portions, and ask the girls questions, and shit like that. So what's it about? Being the best douche bag. You get up there, look hot, everyone loves it, then you have to dance around or some shit like that to prove you're a tool, then finally you get to answer simple questions to prove how absolutely stupid and hollow you are. Then the one who did the best job of putting up with it all gets a prize, and cries because they're so happy that they... won... yeah. Good job. There are going to be a thousand teenage boys jacking off to you tonight. The highlight of your life, is something most people would never in their lives stoop to, but we just don't think about it that way, so congratulations.
Now don't hate on me, I'm not saying that's 100% of the time, 100% of the women. If you want to go do that to get your kicks, more power to you. I'm heavily vested in the 'do whatever the fuck you want' camp. But most of these people are trained from a young age, probably abused in more than one way, and this is all they've got. And we admire that, and put it on tv, and stand in our seats and clap for it. And 'fuck you' to everyone who supports this bullshit.
So generalities aside, what I really commented on was this year's contest, where Miss California elegantly stated that in her 'family country' marriage is between 'opposites'. So there are four ways I'd like to analyze this one:
First off, this girl is in a contest to basically prove she doesn't mind being jacked off to, and can act like a tool. She gets asked about gay marriage by a judge who is a well known liberal or progressive or whatever the fuck they're called, and she says she thinks gays don't have rights. That is the stupidest fucking way I can imagine to try and win a beauty pageant. Like, if Snoop Dogg was a judge do you think she would have said that she thinks coloreds should be in the back of the bus? Holy fuck.
Ok, secondly, some people say she is brave for saying what she believed in. So NIGGERS GO TO THE BACK OF THE BUS would have been ok if she believed in that?? Fuck no. Brave might be good in war or some shit like that, and it's great if it keeps you from like, shitting yourself or something, but brave gets you zero points for being offensive or afraid of gay people.
Third, what the fuck is up with this whole gay marriage problem? And this is where I put my two cents. What does Bigfoot have in common with the concept of marriage? Give up? THEY'RE BOTH FUCKING MADE UP. The people who are complaining about gay marriage blow my fucking mind, because it's not like marriage is a tree or air or something that is fucking real and tangible. Nobody is stealing your shiny stones. We're talking about something that was made up by some fucker somewhere between when we crawled out of the ocean and now. I promise you that god is not up there watching who everyone sticks their dick into. He has better shit to do, and if that's what you think is going on, not only does that mean you're a sick fucker, but you think god is a sick fucker too, and that says volumes about your role models. Marriage is just some made up fucking thing made up by a guy thousands of years ago when women were still repressed and treated like objects so that in some way, he could get more sex, and people need to get over it. There's nothing wrong with it. Fuck, like I've been saying, do whatever the hell you want, but stop acting like it's some big important thing. It's just you living your small, inconsequential life in the way you want, and that's what it's all about!
Fourth and finally, everyone who applauds her for saying that marriage should be between opposites, doesn't that mean a cat could marry a dog? So she doesn't think two gay people could get married, but a cat and a dog, sure. What kind of fucked up person is that?
Now to make up for my rant, here is a picture of an apple sucking on a pig that the lovely and talented Natalie Dee did: PigSucker
This is more of a rant than me making an attempt at comedy, so you may just want to pass. Also if you don't know about the whole Miss USA contestant being afraid of gay people, you might want to check up on that before continuing. The usual disclaimer applies: If you are capable of being offended, are gay, straight, liberal, conservative, jewish, conscious, or dead, please do not read this posting. This is best read while listening to 'Refugee' by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.
I'm a cynical douche, so don't bother to correct me here, but I don't think highly of pageant women. Don't get me wrong, if you've got it, flaunt it and all that shit, sure, but being in beauty pageants isn't about that. It's about being the best, whether it be in your city, state, country, or the world. But the best what? The best looking? Nope, because they have talent portions, and ask the girls questions, and shit like that. So what's it about? Being the best douche bag. You get up there, look hot, everyone loves it, then you have to dance around or some shit like that to prove you're a tool, then finally you get to answer simple questions to prove how absolutely stupid and hollow you are. Then the one who did the best job of putting up with it all gets a prize, and cries because they're so happy that they... won... yeah. Good job. There are going to be a thousand teenage boys jacking off to you tonight. The highlight of your life, is something most people would never in their lives stoop to, but we just don't think about it that way, so congratulations.
Now don't hate on me, I'm not saying that's 100% of the time, 100% of the women. If you want to go do that to get your kicks, more power to you. I'm heavily vested in the 'do whatever the fuck you want' camp. But most of these people are trained from a young age, probably abused in more than one way, and this is all they've got. And we admire that, and put it on tv, and stand in our seats and clap for it. And 'fuck you' to everyone who supports this bullshit.
So generalities aside, what I really commented on was this year's contest, where Miss California elegantly stated that in her 'family country' marriage is between 'opposites'. So there are four ways I'd like to analyze this one:
First off, this girl is in a contest to basically prove she doesn't mind being jacked off to, and can act like a tool. She gets asked about gay marriage by a judge who is a well known liberal or progressive or whatever the fuck they're called, and she says she thinks gays don't have rights. That is the stupidest fucking way I can imagine to try and win a beauty pageant. Like, if Snoop Dogg was a judge do you think she would have said that she thinks coloreds should be in the back of the bus? Holy fuck.
Ok, secondly, some people say she is brave for saying what she believed in. So NIGGERS GO TO THE BACK OF THE BUS would have been ok if she believed in that?? Fuck no. Brave might be good in war or some shit like that, and it's great if it keeps you from like, shitting yourself or something, but brave gets you zero points for being offensive or afraid of gay people.
Third, what the fuck is up with this whole gay marriage problem? And this is where I put my two cents. What does Bigfoot have in common with the concept of marriage? Give up? THEY'RE BOTH FUCKING MADE UP. The people who are complaining about gay marriage blow my fucking mind, because it's not like marriage is a tree or air or something that is fucking real and tangible. Nobody is stealing your shiny stones. We're talking about something that was made up by some fucker somewhere between when we crawled out of the ocean and now. I promise you that god is not up there watching who everyone sticks their dick into. He has better shit to do, and if that's what you think is going on, not only does that mean you're a sick fucker, but you think god is a sick fucker too, and that says volumes about your role models. Marriage is just some made up fucking thing made up by a guy thousands of years ago when women were still repressed and treated like objects so that in some way, he could get more sex, and people need to get over it. There's nothing wrong with it. Fuck, like I've been saying, do whatever the hell you want, but stop acting like it's some big important thing. It's just you living your small, inconsequential life in the way you want, and that's what it's all about!
Fourth and finally, everyone who applauds her for saying that marriage should be between opposites, doesn't that mean a cat could marry a dog? So she doesn't think two gay people could get married, but a cat and a dog, sure. What kind of fucked up person is that?
Now to make up for my rant, here is a picture of an apple sucking on a pig that the lovely and talented Natalie Dee did: PigSucker
Monday, April 20, 2009
ANGRY MUSICAL REVIEW: Cats
Moved by the spirit of a great friend today, I will be presenting you with my review of the musical 'Cats'. I'm not really into musicals all that much, and have better things to do than watch them. If it is possible to offend you in any way, you should probably not read this.
As stated, I am not interested in watching or listening to this musical, or whatever, mainly due to the fucked up pictures I found on the internet which display images of whatever freaks they talked into being in this thing, doing just seven different flavors of fucked up. Instead, I will be providing you with a review directly from a basic synopsis I found online:
Act I - When Cats are Maddened by the Midnight Dance
What the FUCK does that mean? I'm really searching here. If we're talking about indoor cats, then maybe they're upset because some jackass in a fucking fur suit is prancing around in the middle of the god damned night, and that's where whoever wrote this got their idea. So the cats are maddened, or being maddened in this act, or some crap. So what do they do? Thex explain that they are some tribe, and they all hang out, and there's a dance tonight and one of them gets to be reincarnated. Oh. Well that makes sense. I'd pay fucking $80 to sit in the fucking loft and watch that. That's got all of my god damn interests rolled into one. Fucking Tribe Bullshit, Cat Dancing, and God Damn Reincarnation. Fuck it! I'll buy tickets to any fucking thing!
They introduce the cats, which from what I gather is a bunch of bullshit. Oh, also one of the cats is named Rumpleteazer. Just... what the shit....
So then there's singing and dancing. Fuck.
Act II - Why Will the Summer Day Delay - When Will Time Flow Away?
Ok, not as bad as the name for the first act, but based on how accurate it proved to be, I bet this act has absolutely NOTHING to do with summer bullshit.
So apparently here they introduce some more cats, which is great. We're half way through the fucking thing and you're still introducing characters. What critic of the arts wouldn't give this two fucking thumbs up? Why, I'd stake my whole reputation on this fucking thing being a literary epidemic of genius! Oh yeah! One of the cats is a train conductor. Fuck em with that too!
You know what? Bullshit. I don't even have to finish reading the script, because the guy is just making shit up. Anybody can do this. What happens next? I bet a cat gets mugged, and then they find a magical cat. Well guess what! They fucking do! They fucking find a magical cat, after one of them gets mugged. And get ready for a spoiler, cause here's the end: One of the cats gets sent to heaven. Holy shit.
If you were to ask my opinion of the musical 'Cats' on a scale of one to ten, I'd just stand there and look at you like the dumbass you are. This is just an hour of furries doing absolutely random shit. And why the fuck is everyone a cat? Where does that metaphor come into play? OH YEAH! I GET IT! IT'S EX-FUCKING-ZACTLY THE SAME AS PEOPLE, BUT WITH CATS. FUCK ME WITH AN OSTRIDGE THAT'S DEEP!!!
Basically, if you're in New York City, and you've got the opportunity to see this, you'd be better off just getting peed on in Times Square. And look... if you've got some kind of thing for the whole 'cat people' furry crap, I don't give a shit, but keep it in the fucking bedroom. You don't see me chasing your retarded ass around the square with a whip, so take a fucking hint.
As stated, I am not interested in watching or listening to this musical, or whatever, mainly due to the fucked up pictures I found on the internet which display images of whatever freaks they talked into being in this thing, doing just seven different flavors of fucked up. Instead, I will be providing you with a review directly from a basic synopsis I found online:
Act I - When Cats are Maddened by the Midnight Dance
What the FUCK does that mean? I'm really searching here. If we're talking about indoor cats, then maybe they're upset because some jackass in a fucking fur suit is prancing around in the middle of the god damned night, and that's where whoever wrote this got their idea. So the cats are maddened, or being maddened in this act, or some crap. So what do they do? Thex explain that they are some tribe, and they all hang out, and there's a dance tonight and one of them gets to be reincarnated. Oh. Well that makes sense. I'd pay fucking $80 to sit in the fucking loft and watch that. That's got all of my god damn interests rolled into one. Fucking Tribe Bullshit, Cat Dancing, and God Damn Reincarnation. Fuck it! I'll buy tickets to any fucking thing!
They introduce the cats, which from what I gather is a bunch of bullshit. Oh, also one of the cats is named Rumpleteazer. Just... what the shit....
So then there's singing and dancing. Fuck.
Act II - Why Will the Summer Day Delay - When Will Time Flow Away?
Ok, not as bad as the name for the first act, but based on how accurate it proved to be, I bet this act has absolutely NOTHING to do with summer bullshit.
So apparently here they introduce some more cats, which is great. We're half way through the fucking thing and you're still introducing characters. What critic of the arts wouldn't give this two fucking thumbs up? Why, I'd stake my whole reputation on this fucking thing being a literary epidemic of genius! Oh yeah! One of the cats is a train conductor. Fuck em with that too!
You know what? Bullshit. I don't even have to finish reading the script, because the guy is just making shit up. Anybody can do this. What happens next? I bet a cat gets mugged, and then they find a magical cat. Well guess what! They fucking do! They fucking find a magical cat, after one of them gets mugged. And get ready for a spoiler, cause here's the end: One of the cats gets sent to heaven. Holy shit.
If you were to ask my opinion of the musical 'Cats' on a scale of one to ten, I'd just stand there and look at you like the dumbass you are. This is just an hour of furries doing absolutely random shit. And why the fuck is everyone a cat? Where does that metaphor come into play? OH YEAH! I GET IT! IT'S EX-FUCKING-ZACTLY THE SAME AS PEOPLE, BUT WITH CATS. FUCK ME WITH AN OSTRIDGE THAT'S DEEP!!!
Basically, if you're in New York City, and you've got the opportunity to see this, you'd be better off just getting peed on in Times Square. And look... if you've got some kind of thing for the whole 'cat people' furry crap, I don't give a shit, but keep it in the fucking bedroom. You don't see me chasing your retarded ass around the square with a whip, so take a fucking hint.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Problems
I ran into some problems today signing up for an upgraded DropBox account:
Going to try again tomorrow.
Going to try again tomorrow.
Midlife Crisis Rescue Opportunity
The concept of a midlife crisis is a construct of our civilization and society here in America, and it's something you don't really find in a country like India or China. Granted I'm generalizing here, and society as a whole is progressing at a great speed in eastern countries (and fuck you if you take offense anyway), but in India, for example, you are born into a caste or a role, and you know how your life is going to be. There are predefined expectations and limitations. In America, however, we don't have that. The very American Dream is to start with nothing and rise to the top, and it's an image embedded in us by our friends, family, the media, everything around us.
The issue with this is that it's bullshit. Even if you do start with nothing and rise to the top, you're pushing some other schmuck down, so it's not possible for everyone to achieve the great dream. Even if everyone had complete and total drive, and motivation, it is economically impossible for everyone to win, because at the end of the day, someone has to clean up all the shit, and unfortunately you can't buy a mansion on a shit-cleaner's salary. Furthermore, with things like car wrecks, cancer, skydiving accidents, etc, a lot of people are simply cut down before they have a chance to achieve anything close to the dream.
Hence we have the midlife crisis. At some point, you wake up, look in the mirror, and realize that you're not going to make it. There is never going to be some magical event that puts you on top of the world. You're not going to have a private jet, helicopter, a 40-acre villa, a penthouse apartment, scantily clad maid women serving you, whatever your fancy is. You're just not going to get it. You're going to wake up, go to work, and sit in an office for the next 20 years, then retire, maybe travel to Europe or some bullshit like that, eventually forget how to control your pooping, and then die.
And it can go beyond that. You might have different opinions about life after death and heaven and hell and nirvana and all that, but being a man of science, I'm fairly sure that after you die, your body rots in the ground. After that everyone you've ever known dies, and after that everyone you've ever affected dies. Some time after that, before the universe cools, the last human dies, earth, the solar system, the milky way, they're all destroyed in mundane ultra-cosmic day-to-day happenings, and nothing you've done ever matters.
Some people find this mildly depressing.
So... you realize this, go buy a sports car, try to date a model or something stupid like that, then grow old and die anyway, because there's nothing you can do to change things. There's your midlife crisis.
Luckily, I am able to sell blessings which will save your soul, and let you spend eternity in heaven with 69 virgins. Unfortunately the lord does not let me accept cash donations, but you can use the button below to buy things on my wish list for me. For every item you get me, I will send you directly to paradise after you die. I want you to keep in mind the value that you are getting. Is paradise worth $50? $500? $50,000? Hell yes it is. Get on this.
The issue with this is that it's bullshit. Even if you do start with nothing and rise to the top, you're pushing some other schmuck down, so it's not possible for everyone to achieve the great dream. Even if everyone had complete and total drive, and motivation, it is economically impossible for everyone to win, because at the end of the day, someone has to clean up all the shit, and unfortunately you can't buy a mansion on a shit-cleaner's salary. Furthermore, with things like car wrecks, cancer, skydiving accidents, etc, a lot of people are simply cut down before they have a chance to achieve anything close to the dream.
Hence we have the midlife crisis. At some point, you wake up, look in the mirror, and realize that you're not going to make it. There is never going to be some magical event that puts you on top of the world. You're not going to have a private jet, helicopter, a 40-acre villa, a penthouse apartment, scantily clad maid women serving you, whatever your fancy is. You're just not going to get it. You're going to wake up, go to work, and sit in an office for the next 20 years, then retire, maybe travel to Europe or some bullshit like that, eventually forget how to control your pooping, and then die.
And it can go beyond that. You might have different opinions about life after death and heaven and hell and nirvana and all that, but being a man of science, I'm fairly sure that after you die, your body rots in the ground. After that everyone you've ever known dies, and after that everyone you've ever affected dies. Some time after that, before the universe cools, the last human dies, earth, the solar system, the milky way, they're all destroyed in mundane ultra-cosmic day-to-day happenings, and nothing you've done ever matters.
Some people find this mildly depressing.
So... you realize this, go buy a sports car, try to date a model or something stupid like that, then grow old and die anyway, because there's nothing you can do to change things. There's your midlife crisis.
Luckily, I am able to sell blessings which will save your soul, and let you spend eternity in heaven with 69 virgins. Unfortunately the lord does not let me accept cash donations, but you can use the button below to buy things on my wish list for me. For every item you get me, I will send you directly to paradise after you die. I want you to keep in mind the value that you are getting. Is paradise worth $50? $500? $50,000? Hell yes it is. Get on this.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
LIVE STREAMING UPDATE FEED BEGIN:
Lately I've read a lot of science crap articles, and I was originally going to write a bit about how to violate the first law of thermodynamics in your bedroom, but instead, I have developed a new physics joke:
How do you cool a system to absolute zero temperature? Well, if the system is you and some chick, just try to put a move on her, you lame-o.
Hahaha! God damn science is funny.
Ok so on a more serious front, what have I been up to lately? Let me tell you.
First off, Amber got a job!! She will soon be an official manager. Well, in a couple months, which is a long time to wait for her, but hey, what the hell. It's an awesome job, so it is worth it! I am proud of her.
I got some new car insurance through State Farm. I told the girl on the phone that I am a balls-to-the-wall street racer, and that my pedal is to the metal, because I wanted her to know that my driving skills were awesome, but I don't know if she believed me, because I'm paying a ton for car insurance now!! What a rip! Also when I asked Geico for a quote, they included 10 million dollars in property damage coverage on my quote, which I think is an insurance insult. Anyway, I'm still waiting on buying my mercedes, because not only do I not have a garage at my place right now, but also I am sure they would charge me an arm and a leg to insure it, and I make my lively hood with my arms! And my legs on the weekends, sometimes.
Not much new to report on my search for HOOSIER GOLD. I feel like I am close, but I don't know... I'm starting to have a bad feeling about it. Like I just hope this story doesn't end on some lame note, like I discover that Hoosier Gold is in all of our hearts, or the love of a child, or it's an RV or something.
How do you cool a system to absolute zero temperature? Well, if the system is you and some chick, just try to put a move on her, you lame-o.
Hahaha! God damn science is funny.
Ok so on a more serious front, what have I been up to lately? Let me tell you.
First off, Amber got a job!! She will soon be an official manager. Well, in a couple months, which is a long time to wait for her, but hey, what the hell. It's an awesome job, so it is worth it! I am proud of her.
I got some new car insurance through State Farm. I told the girl on the phone that I am a balls-to-the-wall street racer, and that my pedal is to the metal, because I wanted her to know that my driving skills were awesome, but I don't know if she believed me, because I'm paying a ton for car insurance now!! What a rip! Also when I asked Geico for a quote, they included 10 million dollars in property damage coverage on my quote, which I think is an insurance insult. Anyway, I'm still waiting on buying my mercedes, because not only do I not have a garage at my place right now, but also I am sure they would charge me an arm and a leg to insure it, and I make my lively hood with my arms! And my legs on the weekends, sometimes.
Not much new to report on my search for HOOSIER GOLD. I feel like I am close, but I don't know... I'm starting to have a bad feeling about it. Like I just hope this story doesn't end on some lame note, like I discover that Hoosier Gold is in all of our hearts, or the love of a child, or it's an RV or something.
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