A Blog About Nothing

FUCK Search Engine Optimization

2007-08-03T23:19:00.000-05:00

If I never see another SEO (Search Engine Optimization) how-to site, it won't be soon enough. I'm sick of stumbling these pages. No one wants to hear you complain/brag about your Google pagerank, and no one cares what kind of sleazy, underhand techniques you used to get there. Remember, if I ever see "SEO" again, you'll get a crowbar to the head.

iDiot

2007-08-02T23:00:00.000-05:00

Stop asking me how many songs an iPod can hold. It depends on many different factors. That's like asking someone how many rocks they can fit in their stomach. And I suggest anyone who asks me how many songs their iPod can hold should see how many rocks they can fit in their stomaches.

Lolrus

2007-07-29T19:28:00.001-05:00

Will that walrus ever find his bucket?

If I Called the Shots

2007-07-23T00:25:00.000-05:00

You know, I was thinking. A lot of things piss me off. I mean a lot. Every day, a little more of my faith in humanity is lost. You want to fuck with these people so bad, but since they're assholes, they'll probably sue you. So what can one do? Well, since we apparently still live in a democratic society, I urge you to write to your respective congressmen to consider the following laws.

* The Crowbar Statute
You know that asshole that just parked his Hummer in four different parking spots? This law would allow you to take a crowbar and smash the shit out of his 8 MPG power trip. Also, you can soot out the tires.

* Obnoxious Fat Women Law
This law would allow you to- yep, you guessed it- beat the shit out of those obnoxious fat girls with a fucking crowbar. Is anyone else sick of sitting at Sheetz at midnight and having to watch some loud, fat girl, who is wearing a fucking mid-drift for Christ's sake, come out complaining about her food.

* The Annoying Drummer Decision
Those people who just have to drum all the frigging time? A swift kick to the throat. Also, you can break their wrists.

* The Fast Food Edict
Tired of those pricks in the McDonalds' who complain that their food isn't just right? I know how it is, I used to work in Wendy's back in the day. Well, if this bill is passed in congress, the next time you encounter this situation, you would be legally fucking obligated to give the guy a swirly in the deep-fryer. Just send out one or two employees, because the guy is probably some fat-ass, business cocksucker with stubby little fingers, and have them drag him into the back and stick his fucking neck-less head into the boiling oil. Dip it up and down a few times. Then ask him if his food is OK.

* Runners' Rights
Ever been on a run and some cunt yells something at you from his car? This especially pisses me off if it's some fat cunt yelling from her SUV for you to "get off the road". This would guarantee all runners the right to rip this schmuck out of his car, throw him to the ground, and curb-stomp the shit out of him.

* Narcissus Directive
Aren't you tired of these idiots walking out of a tanning salon complaining that they got burned? Or that they've developed melanoma? Next time someone says "Oh, how I wish I was tan.", you would legally be allowed to lock this fuckbag in a tanning bed for eight hours. Then we'll see who wants to go tanning, motherfucker.

* The Emo Principle
Anyone who wants to be emo, or claims to be so will be taken out back, tied to a chair, and kicked in the head by a horse. Plain and simple. You want to be miserable all the time? I'll give you something to be fucking miserable about.

A Paradox

2007-07-21T20:00:00.000-05:00

Q: What is the only thing a woman can say that will make a man feel both happy and sad at the same time?

A: "Your dick is bigger than your brother's."

An Open Letter to the NCAA

2007-07-18T23:38:00.000-05:00

To whom it may concern:

Honestly, if you want to make the world a better place, make ultimate frisbee an official NCAA sport. I am at a time right now where I have to make a decision about where I want to go with my life. I am also an athlete. Sure, I run cross country and track, but I also play one of the most intense sports that has been sweeping the nation, albeit under the radar: ultimate frisbee. It truly is the sport of sports. Many of the colleges and universities that I visited this summer offered ultimate frisbee as a club sport. That's a start, but how long before we get to see Frisbee Madness? It can't be soon enough. This past year my school managed to whip up a little after-school, intermural frisbee club. I have asked around and learned that a few other schools in my area do the same. I am working on getting a game going against other schools.

But representing my college- and the NCAA- on a field with a disc would be infinitely more exhilarating. The thrill that comes with playing any sport- the thrill of competition- is unlike any other feeling in the world. The NCAA gives us an amazing opportunity to partake in that as student-athletes. In my mind there would be nothing more thrilling than to toss the old disc around on a collegiate level.

Sadly, there is little hope that this will happen when I am eligible. So I ask, nay, implore you to bring this wonderful idea into existence, if not for me than for future student-athletes of America. So what do you say? Give frisbee a chance.

Why the Sun Sets

2007-07-11T20:39:00.000-05:00

If you ever took an American literature course in grade school, and you probably have, then you will be familiar with the units about America's cultural heritage. You know, those Native American legends that describe natural phenomena in the ancient natives' terms of thinking? Well I wrote my own. It's actually a double whammy, because the whole legend is Why the Sun Sets (Or- Why There Are Eclipses) / Where the Morning Dew Comes From. Here goes:

One night Papa Sun took his viagra and was feeling pretty horny. He noticed Mama Moon bent way over sweepin' under the table. Well Papa got way behind her and took her anal virginity. That's why the sun goes away at night and you can only see the moon (or why there are eclipses; you make the call). Mama Moon wept. She cried to hard the ground was covered with her tears. That's where the morning dew comes from.

The Mile-High Club

2007-07-04T00:02:00.000-05:00

I've always wanted to join the Mile-High club, but I find most airplane bathrooms to be far too small. So, I was thinking that there must be some kind of work around. Denver, anyone?

Agatha Christie Plot Generator

2007-06-27T16:42:00.000-05:00

OK, so I am a fan of Agatha Christie books. But, after reading as many of her books as I have, one becomes familiar with the plot devices she uses. In fact, she follows pretty much the same formula in every book! Why not make your own with my Agatha Christie Plot Generator.

The story is set in . brings several people together into the same . After a few hours, discovers that has been murdered by means of . At first it seems like it was an outside job, because everyone was apparently . However, after investigates thoroughly, it becomes clear that the victim for .

Stop It, Stop It Right Now.

2007-06-06T14:42:00.000-05:00

There is never, NEVER a second declension noun in Latin whose genitive singular ends in -ii. It just doesn't happen. And a second declension word that does not have an -i- before the -us cannot have a -ii as the nominative plural ending! Get your shit straight! The nominative plural of virus is viri, not virii! No! Stop it! The only time you can have -ii in the nominative plural is in words like gladius, because there is already an -i- there. Geez.

virus viri n. poison

gladius gladi m. sword

Scranton

2007-06-05T20:16:00.000-05:00

Here is a little something I threw together today:

Get Your Shit Straight!

2007-05-22T19:28:00.000-05:00

Listen up, people. The past tense of the verb "to shit" is "shat". I shat, you shat, he/she/it shat, we shat, you shat, they shat. Who shat in the hat? I was about to shit on your carpet, but then I realized someone already shat on it.

The basic shit:

Infinitive: to shit

Present Tense:
I shit we shit
you shit you shit
he shits they shit

Past Tense:
I shat we shat
you shat you shat
he shat they shat

Future Tense
I will shit we will shit
you will shit you will shit
he will shit they will shit

Present Participle: shitting

I'm done with this shit.

An Apostrophe by Any Other Name

2007-05-20T14:21:00.000-05:00

I don't understand how people can think that they can use an apostrophe to make things plural. HOW!? Where did they learn this? "Tomato's" are not tomatoes. An apostrophe is used to show possession or to make a contraction. THAT IS ALL. Never, ever use an apostrophe to make things plural. That shit is obnoxious and it makes the user look like a gaylord.

Hell, It's About Time.

2007-05-19T12:25:00.000-05:00

Ohhh man. Two words: Starcraft II.

The Office

2007-05-16T21:36:00.000-05:00

So today on Rock 107 (the station that is actually FM 106.9) I was listening to the best morning show ever, the Daniels and Webster Morning Show (fuck off, Jenn and A.J.), and they said that 2 actors from The Office would be coming to Scranton this Saturday. Sweet. Cause, you, know, in the words of Michael, "Ain't no party like a Scranton party cause a Scranton party don't stop."

The best-sounding thing is the shindig on top of the Medallion Parking garage. Nice.

A Proverb

2007-05-15T21:00:00.000-05:00

Those who gain everything by force gain nothing.

Paranoia Man

2007-05-13T13:29:00.000-05:00

I can't eat sugar, because I will get diabetes.
I can't drink diet soda, because I will get cancer.

I can't feed my pets table food, because they will get fat.
I can't feed my pets pet food, because it's poisoned.

I can't talk on my cell phone because the radiation will give me brain cancer.
I can't talk on my regular phone because there might be a lightning storm somewhere.

I can't let my kids play inside all day because they won't get enough exercise.
I can't let my kids play outside all day because they will get abducted.

I can't let my mother-in-law live alone anymore because she is senile.
I can't let my mother-in-law live in a nursing home because she will get assaulted.

I can't let my family and I miss church because we will go to hell.
I can't take my family to church because my kids will get molested.

I can't drive over 35m.p.h. on a wet road because I might hydroplane.
I can't drive under 35m.p.h. on a wet road because that jerk in the diesel truck who is tailgating me and flashing his lights will run me off the road.

I can't have unprotected sex because I will get someone pregnant.
I can't have sex using a condom because it will break and I will get someone pregnant.

I can't vote for someone who is pro-choice because I am Catholic.
I can't vote for someone who is pro-life because those nuts are the ones blowing up abortion clinics.

I can't sign up for unemployment, because I will be deemed lazy by society.
I can't get a job because then my tax money will go to those on unemployment.

I can't let my kids play with fake guns because they will become too violent.
I can't let my kids play with real guns because they will shoot their friend in the face by accident.

I can't ride my bike on the road because I will get hit by a car.
I can't ride my bike on the sidewalk because I will almost hit a person and then get sued.

I can't go near the birds anymore because I might get bird-flu.
I might as well stay home.

The Musings of Ezekiel, Part I

2007-05-10T21:16:00.000-05:00

Sometimes at night I am afraid to dangle my feet over my bed because there is the inherent danger that monsters may nibble at my toes.

If given a choice between eating one live tarantula and one apple pie, I'd pick the apple pie. Unless it was laced with cyanide. Then I'd go with the tarantula. But I'd dip it in some ranch dressing.

Sometimes, when I see someone with a large bump in the middle of his noise, I kind of want to smash it with a hammer.

The Drew Carey Show, I believe, has stolen many jokes from me over the years. I think they have some sort of mind-reading device.

By the way, has ever noticed that the chubby girl from All That on Snick, who played Lorrie Beth in that segment called "Vital Information for Your Everyday Lives" plays a student on the Steve Harvey Show. And has anyone further noticed that The Steve Harvey Show isn't really funny, like, at all? Oh and plus that girl was also a cheerleader in some movie, and she ended up crushing someone to death. I think it was The Replacements, but I could be wrong.

Speaking of dangling feet, does anyone remember how to uh, ...- diagram? is that the word?- Diagram a dangling participle?

That last thought reminded me how much it pisses me off when people called a dash a slash.

Everyone except old people and single moms wants plastic bags at the grocery store.

Joey

2007-05-09T21:14:00.000-05:00

Today my dear, old friend Joey will be writing a guest post.

Yo, this is Joey. Wat's up? Today I saw some dame tryin' ta back outta a parkin' spot at the mall an' she was drivin' some kinda S.U.V. I rolled down my winda and I says ta her, "Hey Lady, are ya fuckin' retahded? Wat's a gal like you drivin' a fuckin' monsta truck for?" But she kinda ignored me or somethin'. Whateva. Ya got any beer?

Quite a Conundrum

2007-04-27T15:34:00.000-05:00

Consider this: you are driving down a very steep hill in a large pickup truck. The street is very narrow and there are cars parked (poorly) on both sides, so there is barely room for two cars to drive in opposite directions at the same time. On your right hand side, there is a little old nun, who looks like she is about 107, carrying a bag of groceries, no doubt to feed the children at the orphanage. She is about 300 feet ahead of you. Suddenly, on your left hand side, a car full of 4 young, beautiful women, whose combined age could not be more than 86, darts out of their driveway. The nun and the car are both the same distance away from you now, about 20 feet. There is no way to go around, since there are cars parked on both sides of the street (and for the sake of this "puzzle" those cars all happened to be filled with infants). You are traveling at a rate of about 50m.p.h. and you are driving a full-ton pickup (do the math). You only have a split second to made a decision, either to swerve right and completely dismember the nun, spewing gore and body parts all over the road, or to swerve right, plow into the small Suzuki Esteem, causing it to roll down the hill several times, horribly disfiguring all the the girls, damning them to live the rest of their lives as hideous creatures, and guaranteeing that none of them will ever be loved by anyone besides their own mothers.

My question to you, dear readers, is: Which is worse?

Another point to ponder: Is it worse to kill one 400-pound man, or two 200-pound men?

They All Got fat

2007-04-25T20:30:00.000-05:00

Has anyone else noticed that Aretha Franklin has gained an obscene amount of weight lately? She sang the national anthem (I think it was the national anthem- I couldn't really hear it that well because the sound was sort of distorted by a superdense mass). So did Al Gore. I mean, come on. The reason he is so worried about global warming is because he doesn't want to sweat through his sports jackets so much. He used to be cooler. In more ways than one.

On the other hand you have Al Roker who has actually lost (and this is my estimate) 6.4 billion pounds. That means that he would actually be able to give one of those pounds each to every living human. Pretty impressive, no? And the guy has kept the weight off (is stomach-stapling cheating?) despite his having his own show on the Food Network. (Move over Alton Brown).

Rum Runners and Moonshiners

2007-04-20T08:40:00.000-05:00

Were snow globes around during Prohibition? I don't think so, because it seems blatantly obvious, to me, dear readers, that one who was very determined would have painstakingly drained the water from snow globes and replaced it with moonshine. I mean, c'mon. Who is going to check a shipment of 12,000 snow globes bound to Chicago? That's right. Scruff McGruff. But besides him, who? Or what if it was going to New York or Philadelphia?

You people need to use your heads.

To Kill a Classic

2007-04-19T16:15:00.000-05:00

You know, I was thinking. I read the book "To Kill a Mockingbird" in school sophomore year and I think I really nailed what Harper Lee was trying to tell us. It's not a bout Tom Robinson, maaan, it's a metaphor.

Think about it. Think back to when you read it (if you did). Think about when Tom goes to jail. Remember what happened? He tried to escape, he tried to jump the fence to freedom. But just as he got to the top, the guards shot him down. Well, dear readers, that fence is not just a fence. That fence is a metaphor. It's a metaphor for the racial tension between blacks and whites. And Tom, good, old Tom, he was a sort of catalyst. Sure, Tom was sent to jail, but he sure gave that just a run for their money. Nobody thought a black man accused of rape would even get a second look before being carted off. But that jury was deliberating for six hours about that man. Him and his those damn chiffarobes.

That's right. twelve white men, white farmers at that, didn't immediately say that Tom was guilty. That's saying something about what people were beginning to think. Maybe it was a turning point. Maybe.

Well, think of the fence as the racial tension between blacks and whites in America. Especially in the south. Well, Tom, he scaled that fence, both literally and figuratively. But just as things were getting to a turning point, he had an appeal and everything, he went and got himself shot. And then things regressed again, and something great that could have been wasn't. Not at least until the 60s.

Rhinoceros Pimples

2007-04-16T19:41:00.000-05:00

Did you ever have one of those pimples that was so big it was like a rhinoceros horn? And the thing with those is that they're always like, right in the middle of your forehead. Why? And don 't even think about trying to pop them, oooh no. That just makes it worse. You know why? It pisses them off. Then the next day they're like twice as big, and you're walking around with a fucking appendage sticking out of your head.

When you get these Rhino pimples, you're not sure about them at first. You're laying in your bed in the middle of the night, and your head is itchy, so you go to scratch it and OH, SWEET JESUS WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? You don't know if it's like, a spider bite or something. And it freaks you out because you're thinking to yourself, "Oh my God what the hell man, what the HELL? Is that a bug bite?" And you know if it is a bug bite you're gonna make two calls: one to the hospital and one to fucking animal control because anything that makes a bump that size has got to be HUGE.

The next thing you do, is walk- CAREFULLY- into the bathroom. Because, if it is some kind of 37-pound gorilla-spider you don't want to see it. So it's pitch black, the middle of the night, and you're trying to get to the bathroom without waking up the demon from hell. For all you know it's eating your cat right now.

So you finally get to the bathroom and flip the light on to examine yourself in the mirror. "Holy shit. This is bad. I'm gonna die for sure." And then you take a step back, and your eyes adjust to the light. "Well, it doesn't look terminal. Maybe it's just a pimple." Hah. Just a pimple. Just a fucking pimple. You try to pop it for like, an hour and a half, and nothing happens except your arms get sore.

Finally in about three weeks the beast goes away, but it's always in the back of your mind. You're like, "Oh shit. What if it resurfaces?. It's tough livin' with that kind of fear.