Oh nothing. Just watching the world explode in petrified shame. Why do you ask?
photo photo
Monday, May 31, 2010
Government Deregulation
Oh nothing. Just watching the world explode in petrified shame. Why do you ask?
photo photo
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Smoking Baby is a Metaphor (For Everything)
Taking a deep drag on his cigarette while resting on the steering wheel of his truck, he looks like a parody of a middle-aged lorry driver.
But the image covers up a much more disturbing truth: At just the tender age of two, Ardi Rizal's health has been so ruined by his 40-a-day habit that he now struggles to move by himself.
The four-stone Indonesia toddler is certainly far too unfit to run around with other children - and his condition is set to rapidly deteriorate. Daily Mail
Hoo boy, this puts us in sort of a pickle here, now doesn't it? On the one hand, when you think about all these conservative assholes running around crying about deregulation and smaller government and the benefits of oil spills and missile attacks on public schools, this is basically what will happen when they finally get their wish of abolishing the liberal nanny state. Two year old kids huffing two packs of dukes a day. Like a fucking boss.
Then again, liberals are all "Respect the diversity of other cultures" and when you consider that the two cornerstones of Sumatran culture (where this shit was filmed) are puffing butts and drinking coffee, that sort of attitude means you're basically lighting this dude's smoke for him and shooting the shit on the front stoop. So.... Let's call everything we ever talked about regarding politics even?
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
One Year Anniversaries
It's been a year since we pushed this little blog through the sweaty birth canals of the internet, and I'd like to think we've made a huge difference in peoples' lives. Mostly mine, because now I have a place to force my weird neuroses onto unsuspecting bystanders. Also because I'm the only one who reads it anymore. But also yours. I'd like to think I've touched you in a way that you'll never forget. Like your dad sort of, but with a more tender stroke.
Actually the one year anniversary was last week, but much like real anniversaries -- woops! Kind of lost track of things here what with the old, uh, tv and things being on.
Today I thought I'd bring us back to more innocent days with a return to this blog's roots, when it was mostly about pretending food I didn't like was an affront to standards of human decency. With that in mind I was all set to throw truffle oil on the List after dinner last night, but turns out we already covered that shit (see below). Turns out we already covered everything.
Speaking of which, can you believe they're still putting this alien pit-stink on everything still? I had a dinner last night that was made up of truffle oil, goat cheese, duck confit, pork belly and cranberries. Those aren't foods, those are byproducts of digestion. Human Centipede run-off level shit. I'm not gonna say where it was but it was at the W--dw-rd at the A--s Hotel. A fine place, no question, with some really good drinks, but come on dudes. That's like putting the List on shuffle and cooking the first cliche that pops up. That would be like going back into the food archives and rehashing old menu hits for a reunion tour. (Being the type of person who eats out enough to know what sort of food items are tired trends at restaurants is on the List too beeteedubs.) It was like the dinner version of re-posting old blog items just to fill space. Which is what I'm going to do today. Like this simple, direct List classic below. Simian Fever is a union guy I should point out, so he's probably going to expect time and a half for my re-posting his entry. (That sounds kind of hot actually.) Tell it to the shop steward there Sobotka.
Truffle Oil
First of all, this rank ass shit isn't even made with real truffles, and second, now my mussels smell like an ironworker's taint. The reason they use male pigs to dig truffles up is because truffles smell just like the genitalia of female pigs in heat. Drizzle that shit right on the list.
The Sun -- OTL CLASSICS!!11
Look at this jerk off with his sunglasses. What does he think, he's better than me?
Where's his skateboard? Poochie the Dog of celestial bodies over here.
I think we can all agree that the sun's had a pretty good run. There's that whole enabling life as we know it to exist gig. But dude's been coasting on that for a while now. The world doesn't revolve around you, pal.
Plus who do you think is responsible for shorts, ice cream, red-faced, shirtless Sully's at the Sox game, and the majority of dreadful lyric cliches in music history? OK, coke has a pretty big hand in those last two, but we're talking about you here, the sun.
You're on the list.
Having Kids -- OTL CLASSIC?
Let's stop beating around the bush here with the peanut allergies and the being over-protective of your kids. Here it is. Having kids. ON THE LIST. Fuck it dude, mark it zero.
First off, a few disclaimers. None taken* to the following: all of our parents, a couple of my friends, a couple more of my friends in a few years, my girlfriend's dreams if she's reading this and all those people with the signs outside of the Planned Parenthood on comm ave. (I miss swearing at you assholes in the morning)
But seriously... Oh, I'm so special, you know what the world needs? A little me! Don't tell me about the scarcity of resources or how hard it might be to provide for all these little shits! My friend Sherry had one and goddammit, I want one too.
So, it basically comes to that. Kids are fucking boring. Maybe the little ones are kinda cool but seriously once they get to about 6, fuck that. Boring. You know what else is boring? You, the second you shit out a kid. No more going out, fine we'll deal with that. Ok, occasionally you'll get a little furlough pass for a few jars one night and we'll have fun, right? Well, we would have fun if you'd shut the fuck up about having kids. Or how bout we compromise, you can talk about your kid, but talk of strollers, buying diapers, breast pumps, how little you're sleeping, etc. you can leave all that talk where it belongs, which happens to be right here. ON THE LIST.
*When we say none taken, we are not mistaken, we're actually replying to the inevitable no offense comment for you. Example: Oof, the band that night was terrible, bunch of Bowie rehashes with a beatbox casio backing it up. None taken though, Jake. Get it? Good.
First off, a few disclaimers. None taken* to the following: all of our parents, a couple of my friends, a couple more of my friends in a few years, my girlfriend's dreams if she's reading this and all those people with the signs outside of the Planned Parenthood on comm ave. (I miss swearing at you assholes in the morning)
But seriously... Oh, I'm so special, you know what the world needs? A little me! Don't tell me about the scarcity of resources or how hard it might be to provide for all these little shits! My friend Sherry had one and goddammit, I want one too.
So, it basically comes to that. Kids are fucking boring. Maybe the little ones are kinda cool but seriously once they get to about 6, fuck that. Boring. You know what else is boring? You, the second you shit out a kid. No more going out, fine we'll deal with that. Ok, occasionally you'll get a little furlough pass for a few jars one night and we'll have fun, right? Well, we would have fun if you'd shut the fuck up about having kids. Or how bout we compromise, you can talk about your kid, but talk of strollers, buying diapers, breast pumps, how little you're sleeping, etc. you can leave all that talk where it belongs, which happens to be right here. ON THE LIST.
*When we say none taken, we are not mistaken, we're actually replying to the inevitable no offense comment for you. Example: Oof, the band that night was terrible, bunch of Bowie rehashes with a beatbox casio backing it up. None taken though, Jake. Get it? Good.
Friday, May 14, 2010
New Blogs!
I know a lot of you guys really are into nice food and other nice stuff, so I thought you should check out my new blog called Luke's ice Cream Blog. It's all about everyone's favorite type of food? What's that? ice Cream is who! Find out what's going on in the real ice cream scene here.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Skateboarding
To anyone outside the mosh-pit-at-Warped-Tour / first-pube-cycle demographic, this shit should be obvious, but using a skateboard for anything other than jumping over your ten year old little brother or kick-flipping your way to a billion dollars in Vans blood money is strictly verboten. I only bring this up because I've see like, well, three adults using a skateboard as a mode of conveyance in the past few days, and everyone knows three is a trend. That's journalism school 101. See, my $60,000 I'll be paying off for the rest of my life wasn't a waste.
Everyone also knows that listicles are awesome. Mostly because they're a good way for lazy writers to make shit up on the fly in order to get bored people at work to pay attention to them. So, with that in mind, here is a list of the ALL TIME BEST more efficient, less-energy-consuming ways to get around as an adult without using a skateboard:
1) Walking.
2) Walking on crutches.
3) Rolling. Like literally rolling as if you were pushed off the top of a steep hill. That kind of rolling.
4) Just standing there and waiting.
5) Unicycle.
P.S. you guys: Do not do an image search for "adult babies" unless you're ready to get fired and/or get a giant fucking shame boner.
P.S.x2: None of this applies to that dude in the picture, who I found by searching for "bad ass Japanese dude who owns my shit."
Your YouTube Cover Versions
You know what I like about restaurants? When you're looking at the menu some fourteen year old kid doesn't come up to the table trying to sell you his jr. high bag lunch instead of the actual menu items I'm here for. That's what I like about restaurants.
So here's the deal from now on: if I want to see a pre-law student in a pair of cargo shorts butcher my favorite rock bands in that new surf-bro ukulele style that has infested music of late with its awful summer breeze shit-air, or a fifty year old warlock walking me through the steps of "Enter Sandman" on classical acoustic, I will search for that shit specifically. All I want to do right now is watch thirteen Oasis videos in a row so I can put off having to face the actual work in front of me for a little while longer. That's called being an adult. And I want to see the ones made by the actual band Oasis. Not the ones made by you and Jeff. No offense to Jeff.
So here's the deal from now on: if I want to see a pre-law student in a pair of cargo shorts butcher my favorite rock bands in that new surf-bro ukulele style that has infested music of late with its awful summer breeze shit-air, or a fifty year old warlock walking me through the steps of "Enter Sandman" on classical acoustic, I will search for that shit specifically. All I want to do right now is watch thirteen Oasis videos in a row so I can put off having to face the actual work in front of me for a little while longer. That's called being an adult. And I want to see the ones made by the actual band Oasis. Not the ones made by you and Jeff. No offense to Jeff.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Your Birthday
Thanks for the well wishes. It is in fact amazing that I still exist. In fairness I can't help but notice that you exist as well, but I don't want to get into a whole thing about you on account of this being my special little day. Better save the congratulations until the officially sanctioned period recognizing the approximate ten hours it took for you to sluice out of your mother's vagina. If you and like twelve people we all sort of know want to go sit in a restaurant and ruin everyone else's night around us I'm cool with that though.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Not Having Beer For Sale Everywhere
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Between legal gay marriage and decriminalized marijuana, you'd think this Commonwealth of ours is as morally corrupt and Commie-loving as our many detractors would have you believe. I look forward to the day that San Francisco falls into the ocean due to a catastrophic earthquake and Boston values will finally become the war cry of the conservative talk show set.
What separates the myth of Boston as a super-liberal Valhalla and its reality is that we can't buy beer at just any store in the state. What is that? Things would be a whole lot easier for this kid here if I could pull over at the Shell on the way home and grab some beers. But no, not in this nanny state. Instead I have to walk -- walk for fucks sake! -- up to the subway station and then do that weird hand switch with the beers every three minutes on the ride home because I'm too atrophied to be able to carry a 30 pack of Stroh's ten blocks. Is there any logical reason for this? You'd think that the Puritans, who died out approximately 400 years ago, wouldn't still have an iron grip on our liberties, but apparently you'd be mistaken.
So to protest I'm going to walk up the street with just under an ounce of weed and gay marry a buddy of mine so I can get free health benefits through his work. Hopefully, we'll be able to lug two 30 packs back to my place for the reception. Woah, wait. I can get affordable health care through the state? Alright, cancel that marriage license. Still though, this religious beer rules shit is ridiculous.
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