Suicidal Snowflakes

Just because I have a short attention span doesn\’t mean I…

Silence is mystery

People may think you’re stupid if you’re quiet. But if you open your mouth, you’ll remove all doubt.

Have you ever noticed how phrases like “artsy” or “computer-savvy” are used by people who arn’t? Usually it’s someone saying “I’m not artsy, like you,” because they can’t draw a straight line with a ruler or “I’m just not computer-savvy enough to fix this problem,” when they just can’t handle clicking on start and going to programs–if it isn’t on their desktop, they just “dont have the program.” Or “I’m just not mechanical.” Who says mechanical? People who arn’t “Mechanically inclined” (Because ‘yknow, mechanically inclined is too “technical”). Meaning, replacing the bag on the vacuum cleaner is just too tough.

When someone says “I’m really artsy,” or “I can do it myself, I’m really computer savvy,” I run, and I hide. Because I know it’s going to end badly.


January 27, 2006 Posted by | Unwashed Masses | Leave a comment


Granted, it’s 4:01 am, and I’m doing homework, holding both the book and highlighter (mmm… highlighter) awful close to my face… but what in the hell does this mean?

“It is the aboutness or isness of the relationship to it that varies.”


The only thing that I can think of is maybe President Clinton really DIDNT have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinsky.

I need to stop biting on this highlighter like it’s a cigar.

January 27, 2006 Posted by | Crazy and/or Weird, My Little Pony, Quotology, Random & Miscellany, Wordy | 1 Comment

Everything but the game

You know what I hate about watching football on network television? Lets see… incessant and constant commercial breaks for one. They haveta stop the play, or have a longer break for the network. Next, the announcers. Have you ever heard a bigger bunch of lack-witts than those fatuous “color commentators” on TV? There’s the stating the obvious, there’s the stupid metaphors, there’s the patting each other on the back constantly. Barf. Then there’s the news-babes on the sidelines, trying to take it seriously, screamin’ over the fans into the microphone, steem coming out of their noses like dragons as they freeze their asses off because the ‘men folk’ are in the press booth, nice and toasty and being served by Hooters waitresses while they say stupid things and laugh at how the news babes are on the sidelines, but they’re safe and warm.

But… there’s this one thing that happens on the network telecasts of NFL football that grinds on my nerves like fingers on a cheese grater. The. Gratuitous. Shots. Of. Football. Players. On. The. Sidelines. With. Their. Hands. On. Their. Hips.


It’s like, when I was in high school, and I figured out if they cut out the half hour of “Quality Resource Time” (a glorified study hall in which you couldn’t actually study or do homework), lunch, all the wasted time between classes, all the wasted time getting everyone in class to shush and behave, group activities and waiting for everyone else to finish, and the wasted five or ten minutes at the end of class where everyone was congregating near the door, waiting for the bell… the school day would be about two hours long, and I’d have five more hours a day to do shit that wasn’t lame or stupid. It’s like that. But with football.

Think about it. How much football could you get in if you weren’t standing there with your hands on your hips, waiting for the network break to end, the never-ending time out to end, the ref in the funny little booth to watch the play fifty seven different times on the challenged play to end, or even eeeeevery time the clock stops. Run out of bounds, sneeze while you’re lining up, the clock stops. Oh and God forbid a flag get thrown. That just makes the clock stop for even longer. I could cook a turkey in the time that the clock is stopped on some of these penalties, the worst of which being the dreaded red flag…

…Anyways… It’d be a hell of a lot of football in the three or four hours usually alotted by the network for the game. Shit. Think about how long it’d take you to play a 60 minute game, without the guys with their hands on their hips for minutes on end? I dont know… Like… 60 minutes. Then we could get on with our lives. With the constant stopping and starting, it just ruins the flow and the suspense and the drama.

Which is why I like watching games on the NFL network. Sixty minutes, including commercials, so it isn’t the full sixty minutes of play. And it starts off with the dramatic build-up, the grounds crew shoveling snow out of the aisles, sun rising over the stadium in Denver, “flashbacks” to last week’s games highlights and lowlights, the pregame baloons floating up to the sky, the lady on the horse (why don’t we have a lady on a horse? Or cute girls in short skirts and hard hats?)… the pregame talkup on the sidelines, finally, the music, the slo-mo, the deep-voiced narrator. Some plays, some plays repeated at different angles at even slower mo, closeups on guys on the sidelines, shiny faces frowning in concentration, commentary from the sidelines, post-game celebration in the locker room… There aint a whole lot of game going on here either, but it’s got flow and suspense, and moves a hell of a lot faster.

Hey, sometimes it’s not about the game, so much as the story behind the play. But I know one thing for certain, it aint about long shots of big, over-padded asses with hips holding up hands. Thank GOD for the only channel on my cable box more gratuitous than the SPEED Network. Thank you, NFL network, you are ROXOR!!!111oneoneoneone.

January 27, 2006 Posted by | Sports that arn't NASCAR, TV/Movies/Books | Leave a comment