| |
Bad Money
|
Saturday, January 31, 2004
|
|
POKING THROUGH TECHNORATI
Just for fun, I checked my links at Technorati, and discovered a blog linking to me that I'd never heard of before. Dave's Not Here by, well, Dave.
He's currently working as a civilian contractor in Iraq, helping to
pick up the mess Saddam spent 30 years making. There's some computer
work involved, but mostly he spends his time checking the strength of steel I-beams. If they're stronger than his head, they pass inspection.
Enough intro. What I REALLY want you to see are the pictures he posted of Baghdad International Airport (formerly Saddam's HellMouth). The place is quite visually stunning. I guess we know where the oil-for-food money went now.
Oh, and Dave, a suggestion, if I may. Please give the full title of the
acronyms you use at least once in each post for the benefit of readers
who are not familiar with your line of work. Always keep the new reader
in mind. Alternatively, you might consider having an "acronym glossary"
post linked in your sidebar that you could update from time to time.
But it's your blog, so it's your call. Either way, nice place ya got there.
posted by Harvey at 9:59:54 PM permalink HOME
|
|
JOEY STRUGGLES THROUGH ADVERSITY AND...
...Hits a freakin' HOME RUN with his first political cartoon (Jan 30, CTRL+F "comic"). I tried to tell him that I LMAO'd, but his comments gave me the cold shoulder.
Put down your beverage & check it out.
Now if only he could get that Single White Male MT blog working...
posted by Harvey at 8:55:22 PM permalink HOME
|
|
OHHHHH! NOW I UNDERSTAND
Million-times forwared e-mail from Blogless Brother Roy explains what those bra-sizes stand for:
A - Almost boobs
B - Barely there
C - Can't complain
D - Dang
DD - Double dang
E - Enormous
F - Fake
G - Get a reduction
H - Help me, I've fallen and I can't get up
posted by Harvey at 5:23:19 PM permalink HOME
|
|
GOTTA REMEMBER THIS FOR VALENTINE'S DAY
Million-times forwarded e-mail from Blogless Brother Roy:
A man asked his wife what she'd like for her
birthday. "I'd love to be six again," she replied.
On the morning of
her birthday, he arose early, made her a nice big bowl of Lucky Charms and then
took her off to the local theme park. What a day! He put her on every ride in
the park: the DeathSlide, the Wall of Fear, the Screaming Monster Roller
Coaster, everything there was. Five hours later she staggered out of the theme
park. Her head was reeling and her stomach felt upside down.
Right
away, they journeyed to a McDonalds where her loving husband ordered a Happy
Meal with extra fries and a refreshing chocolate shake.
Then it was
off to a movie, the latest Star Wars epic, a hot dog, popcorn, a soda pop, and
her favorite candy, M&M's. What
a fabulous adventure! Finally she wobbled
home with her husband and collapsed into bed exhausted. He leaned over his
precious wife with a big smile and lovingly asked, "Well, Dear, what was it like
being six again?"
Her eyes slowly opened and her expression suddenly
changed. "You idiot, I meant my dress size!"
The moral of the story:
Even when a man is listening,
he's going to get it wrong.
posted by Harvey at 5:16:56 PM permalink HOME
|
|
TEMPLATE TWEAKS
Very minor. I added some stuff to the sidebar. Two of which are actual quotes about me.
Vigilance Matters had that reaction after I judged his sorry ass in the King of the Blogs Tournament. It was meant as a compliment, and I wear it as a badge of pride.
Ted of Rocket Jones spit his quote out in Susie's comments
after I had left yet another of my typically charming, yet crudely
suggestive comments there. It's probably a compliment of some sort. At
any rate, it's as accurate as a sniper's bullet.
Down a bit further, I finally got around to adding the King of the Blogs judge/participant javascript. Gee, I've only been judging there for about 2 months now. About time I found 5 freakin' minutes to get this taken care of
Now I'm off to go muck about in the meat world for a bit. Bills to pay & whatnot.
UPDATE (1-31, 4:25pm): I also added a reciprocal link to Blogwise. Does anyone actually go there?
posted by Harvey at 3:22:20 PM permalink HOME
|
|
|
Friday, January 30, 2004
|
|
TODAY'S LOVE NOTE
(Introduction)
Because of what you are, you are essential to my happiness.
posted by Harvey at 11:07:19 PM permalink HOME
|
|
TODAY’S GRAFFITI
CURRENCY
[REMEMBER - you suck!]
Although there's nothing inherently
wrong with buying yourself a stupid hooker in order to save a little
money, you still might want to take the precaution of reminding her not
to take "blowjob" literally.
posted by Harvey at 11:05:24 PM permalink HOME
|
|
GLENN'S CHILDHOOD PICTURES
(A FILTHY LIE)
I thought this assignment
was going to be easy. That idiot Reynolds STILL hasn't bothered to
install a firewall on his computer, so hacking in was a piece of cake.
Strolling through his files, the My Pictures folder was an easy find.
Although I'd hoped to find a straight-on full-face childhood shot of
him so I could recognize him when I go back in time to stop him from
becoming Evil Glenn the Puppy Blending Dark Overlord of the
Blogosphere, I had no such luck.
But my efforts were not wholly unrewarded. I did get a glimpse of the young Glenn, and some tantalizing clues as to possible causes of his later corruption.
The root causes of his hobo-hatred probably stem from a difficult childhood. Frequently despondent and often penniless, the young vagabond Glenn
lived among the hobos, but was never truly content to do so. He
probably blamed them for his early pain and set about taking his
vengeance upon them.
The hard years of his youth, and the malnutrition that frequently
accompanies poverty, interfered with Glenn's physical development,
causing him to become freakishly deformed. However, with the help of a sympathetic vampire, he became a member of the undead.
Although somewhat troubled by the loss of his soul, he was pleased that
his complexion finally cleared up. For some reason, though, women would
still run away, screaming, at the sight of him.
With no love to call his own, he must have recalled one of the few
happy days of his youth that he'd spent at the local zoo, where he
first laid eyes on a penguin. Here he can be seen, clearly stunned and transfixed at the lovely sight he beheld.
So shapely. So graceful. In his teens, however, that early, innocent
love degenerated to a sick lust. In this picture, note the position of
his hands as he desperately clutches as his first artificial lover.
As to puppies, I don't know the exact trauma that first caused Glenn to think of them as sustenance instead of playful pets. I do know that it must have been shortly after birth, possibly even in the womb. Even in this photo, where he's probably not even a year old, his hunger for things canine is dreadfully obvious. As he matured, he, like most primates, learned to use tools. His first tool of choice was a single, non-whirling blade. Later, possibly because chewing all that ropy dog-flesh hurt his fangs, he experimented with beverages. Here we see an early attempt to make puppy tea. Eventually he found his modus operandi, and the made the blender his tool of choice.
Having glimpsed several views of Evil Glenn's early life, I am filled with nausea and loathing. However, considering how truly horrifying some of his other early hobbies were, I'm almost relieved that he took up puppy-blending.
INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!
posted by Harvey at 8:21:19 PM permalink HOME
|
|
|
Thursday, January 29, 2004
|
|
TODAY'S LOVE NOTE
(Introduction)
If I gave you flowers as often as I thought of you, the world would be covered in roses.
posted by Harvey at 10:58:04 PM permalink HOME
|
|
RESPECTFULLY SOLVING DIFFERENCES
Beloved Wife showed me this actual course description for a Diversity Workshop:
This workshop explores diversity
using a common sense approach based on respect. Emphasis is placed on
identifying and acknowledging differences and similarities and their
impact on interpersonal and group interactions. Participants will
engage in conversations and activities aimed at increasing awareness
and sensitivity to ways in which difference matters.
This sounded familiar, and I racked my brain trying to think of where
I'd seen this paradigm illustrated briefly and succinctly before...
... Then I remembered... the cable version.
posted by Harvey at 8:18:54 PM permalink HOME
|
|
I HATE STUPID PEOPLE
Maybe I should re-phrase that. What I ACTUALLY hate is the socially-sensitive-but-mentally-challenged.
I'll try to explain. When two people are within a certain physical
distance, there arises in some minds a sense of social pressure to
engage in conversation. If you're close enough to touch someone, you
should probably be talking, or so goes the theory in some circles.
Casual conversation? I can take it or leave it. Usually leave it. But I don't mind it if people want to chat, as long as they can come up with something at least moderately interesting to chat about.
What I simply CAN NOT STAND are the people who are tuned in just enough
to realize they are (theoretically) within "I should say something"
distance, but haven't the wit or creativity to spout anything but the
dullest, tritest, stale-by-the-second-telling catch-phrases.
For example, I work with a guy who, if you trip his social perimeter
alarm, will fall back to his standard recording of "What's the good
word?"
One of my regular customers answers my "How ya doin' today" with "I'm doin'!"
Another one answers my "How's it goin'" with "It's gotta go."
And another one answers "Anything else I can do for you?" with "I hope not"
It's like they know they need to respond quickly and creatively, but possessing only a drunken poodle's intellectual acuity, they settle for the first idiot phrase that pops into their mushy, addled skulls.
Drives. Me. Nuts.
A similar breach of etiquette is often performed by these "too close -
must talk now" idjits when you end up next to them at the urinal. When
I've got Mr. Happy in my hand, the LAST damn thing I want to do is chat
about the weather, or work, or anything else for that matter. All I
want to do is deflate the pigskin & get the hell out. If I want
stimulating conversation, I'll call 1-900-HOT-TALK.
Which brings me this post by Jess of Appropos of Something (via Carnival of the Vanities #71).
Seems it's not just my co-workers who don't have the decency keep quiet
when the hose is in hand. The problem goes all the way to the US
Senate.
I suppose I should just be grateful that my stories never end like his.
posted by Harvey at 7:55:09 PM permalink HOME
|
|
SEPARATED AT BIRTH?
I've seen a couple pictures of possible long-lost twins to John Kerry. The Command Post suggests that it might be Snow Miser. J of Quibbles & Bits puts his money on Herman Munster.
Me? Well, Steve of Little Tiny Lies thinks that Kerry has been having some Botox treatments to freshen up his appearance. He points to the some before & after pictures that Drudge put up.
See that picture under the word "after" (the upper left of the three)?
Pure Odo.
posted by Harvey at 7:26:01 PM permalink HOME
|
|
SCREAMING BROKE
Reid of PhotoDude suggests that Howard Dean's campaign won't have enough cash to make it past the next set of primaries on Feb 3, and he's got numbers to back it up.
Interesting.
I hope he's wrong. Dean was a comedic genius and I'd hate to see him go.
posted by Harvey at 7:15:04 PM permalink HOME
|
|
CAN THIS BABE SWING A HAMMER, OR WHAT?
LeeAnn of The Cheese Stands Alone takes exception to the Commisar's 10 Rules of Blogging.
What am I saying? She IS the exception.
And bless her cheesy little heart for it.
But I have to discuss #7:
7. Identify your sex.
Sure, and would you like to know
what color undies I have on? What my mom's middle name is? What time I
go to work so you can case the joint and swipe my teakettle collection?
Good writing doesn't have to show you I.D. Do you read with your balls or your eyes?
Re: First question: "Yes, please, very much so."
Re: Last question: "uh...wellllllll..."
posted by Harvey at 7:08:30 PM permalink HOME
|
|
CUT HIM! CUT HIM GOOD!
Since Heather of Angelweave is the PeTA whackin' queen (or biting, as the case may be), I must admit that I was surprised that I ended up hearing this bit of PeTA news from Kevin of Wizbang. Apparently the PeTA peckerheads have hoisted a particularly tacky billboard near Richmond.
Personally, I think it's kind of funny in an Itchy & Scratchy kind of way.
Of course, the real reason you should click the link is that, in the comments, the Evil Puppy Blender weighs in under an assumed name.
posted by Harvey at 7:03:15 PM permalink HOME
|
|
TERESA ROCKS
Why? Lots of reasons. For instance, she gets cool letters from her son who wrote about things he learned in boot camp. I'll tell you 2, you've got to go to Technicalities for the rest:
why they are called "FIRE ANTS"
guns are cooler in person
Other great things include that she's a Corner of the Bar Babe. Which, I think, means that I can start making passes at her now.
Plus, in her spare time, she likes to spam her own inbox...
... Which only SOUNDS dirty.
posted by Harvey at 6:58:34 PM permalink HOME
|
|
I GOTTA ASK FOR STUFF MORE OFTEN
Ever wonder about hM, the woman behind the homicidalManiak hatchet? I sweet-talked her into posting a pic. You can thank me later.
The only thing sexier than a beautiful woman holding a guitar is a beautiful woman holding a gun.
I suppose we could always max out the happy-meter by giving hM this guitar.
posted by Harvey at 6:53:53 PM permalink HOME
|
|
WHEN DUCT TAPE WON'T FIX IT...
...You can at least take some solace in Heather of Angelweave's fine short poem on things that have been broken recently.
And if the poem doesn't do it for ya, then you can always just stop by
the comments to that post & tell her what's broken in your life.
You'll feel better for the sharing.
posted by Harvey at 6:51:24 PM permalink HOME
|
|
|
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
|
|
NOW THIS IS A CURRENCY FREAK
Ok, I thought I had a touch of "dollar bill OCD", but this guy, who I found out about via an e-mail from the musariffic Brian J. Noggle, has swan-dived into the empty swimming pool of weirdness.
"Where does
a dollar go? Send me a postcard. ddB, Rte. 1, Box 282, Highlandville,
MO 65669. Have a great day!"
What would you
do if you saw this note written on the back of a dollar bill? Would you
respond, like the note asks, with a postcard to "ddB"?
So far, some
3,500 people have answered Dean Bracy's question about a dollar's travels.
They've not only sent postcards but letters, photographs, mementos, catalogs,
business cards, religious tracts and even a seed packet.
... but then again, I can't help having a certain sneaking admiration.
I used to think photo-mosaics were stupid, but over time, I've come to
realize that there is a
certain degree of artistic talent required to create one, so I'll give
him credit for not being a complete loon. And the more I think about
it, the more I'd like to see one of his "special dollars". It's a pity
the dumbass wrote his message on the BACK, where it can easily be
missed.
At any rate, if anyone spots one of these babies, give me a holler and/or a picture.
posted by Harvey at 10:13:58 PM permalink HOME
|
|
9 SIMPLE QUESTIONS
Tiffany of Blown Fuse is helping a friend who has to conduct a survey
for a college class. 8 yes/no questions & 1 multiple choice on the
topic of marriage. Takes about 3 minutes & you will be rewarded
with Tiffany's eternal love.
Go forth and rescue the damsel in distress, lest you be eaten by a grue.
posted by Harvey at 10:09:00 PM permalink HOME
|
|
FRENCH ASSISTANCE
(A PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR ASSIGNMENT)
In a US Army camp on the outskirts of Baghdad, Private John "Lucky"
Lukowski, frustrated by his inability to complete his assigned duties,
seeks the assistance of his Sergeant, William "Rocky" Stone…
Pvt: Look, Sarge, I understand the importance of Operation Useful Frenchman, but I really don't know if this is going to work.
Sgt: Lucky, we've got our orders. The President decided that, in the
interests of getting France to shut the f*** up, we'd give them
something to do in Iraq that didn't pose a security risk. The President
told the Generals, the Generals told the Lieutenants, the Lieutenants
told the Sergeants, and then I told you: "Keep the damn Frogs busy."
The shit has followed standard operating procedure and rolled downhill,
right into your lap. I'm counting on you to make it happen.
Pvt: It's not that I'm not touched by your faith in me, Rocky, but it just doesn't seem to be working out.
Sgt: Son, I really hate to hear an American fighting man tell me that a
job can't be done. Don't tell me you've just been sitting on your ass
the last couple weeks? You submitted a list of tasks you thought Pierre
& Co. could accomplish, I approved it, and you've had complete
freedom to make it happen. Maybe you better tell me what's been
happening. Let's start with this first item... Building a baseball
diamond?
Pvt: Yeah. I thought maybe if the Iraqi kids learned about fun American customs like baseball, they might grow to love us.
Sgt: I really liked that idea. Putting the French to work spreading American culture. The sweet, delicious irony. What happened?
Pvt: Well, since the Whiteflaggers don't know anything about baseball, I thought I should have 'em practice with with the chalk line marker cart to make sure they could walk 90 feet in a straight line.
Sgt: Good thinking. Where'd they practice?
Pvt: Boom-Boom Alley.
Sgt: WHAT? You had them walking through an un-cleared minefield?
Pvt: You TOLD me to!
Sgt: [whacking Lucky upside the head] Damn it, Lucky! I told you "Zoom-Zoom Alley", the air-to-ground live-fire range! No wonder the Air Force has been riding my ass about not having enough targets!
Pvt: Sorry 'bout that. But on the bright side, the minefield is pretty
much cleared now, and the local vultures have never looked so fat and
sleek.
Sgt: I'm sure the Audubon Society will be thrilled… How 'bout this next one... War criminal search & rescue?
Pvt: My theory is that dictators and their hump-backed henchman aren't the most creative folk in the world, so we're looking for the last 13 in the same sorts of places that we found the others.
Sgt: Interesting theory. Which means... what, exactly, in practice?
Pvt: Well, I was going to have the Soap-Dodgers peek in every septic tank in Baghdad…
Sgt: What happened?
Pvt: First time out, we popped the cover on a poop pit, and ol'
Jean-Luc-Pinhead shouted "cuisine à la maison!" and dove in head first.
Drowned pretty quick, but he seemed to die happy.
Sgt: And you just lost the one?
Pvt: More like one hundred. It
was almost spooky how they just jumped right in, one after another. It
was like watching a pack of hippies stampede over a cliff into the sea.
Sgt: You mean lemmings.
Pvt: Yeah, lemmings. Sorry. Just a bit of personal fantasy there.
Sgt: Oh well, as long as there's a few less Snail-Snappers in the
world… So how about this other one… Assist local farmers with animal
husbandry chores?
Pvt: I really thought we had a winner with that one. Seems the local
farmers are experimenting with artificial insemination techniques in
their goat herds. I figured the Stinky Pierres would make great barnyard animal masturbators.
Sgt: Having known a few French women, I have to agree that I can't
think of anyone more qualified to bring a smelly, hairy animal to
orgasm than a French man. How'd that work out, Lucky?
Pvt: They took to it like fish to water. I haven't heard happy-animal noises like that since Howard Dean's Iowa speech, but…
Sgt: But? But what? I thought you said they were good at it?
Pvt: Yeah, well… they didn't just use their hands…
Sgt: Not just their…Oh... I see… Well, I suppose as long as they spit…
Pvt: Swallowed.
Sgt: Hmmm... So I guess the Iraqi farmers are pretty pissed about the whole thing?
Pvt: Actually, not so much. A lot of the farmers had video cameras, and
what with internet connections becoming more and more common around
here, I'm thinking Paris Hilton isn't going to be the #1 Google hit for
"skanky sex" much longer.
Sgt: You're probably right. Well, Lucky, I'm about sick of these
pants-wetting rifle-droppers. Maybe you should take the rest of 'em out
on Septic Patrol. Tell 'em we found an underground restaurant that
makes it just like momma.
Pvt: With pleasure, Rocky.
Sgt: And Lucky?
Pvt: Yeah, Sarge?
Sgt: SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!
posted by Harvey at 8:25:53 PM permalink HOME
|
|
ON SPELLING ERRORS
If you see a spelling error in someone's post, what should you do? Dana suggests that it's probably best to send an e-mail, rather than mention the errors in the comments.
I agree with her in principle that discretion is a blessing, but in practice,
I find myself being a comment-corrector. Part of it is that I do a lot
of blog reading from work, and I don't want to use my work e-mail for
blog-related discussions. I could
fire up my Yahoo mail, but our work computers are painfully slow. And
even if I have Yahoo handy, there's still the time I have to spend
making it clear which post I'm talking about: "In your 1-27 post
"Monkeys are Eating My Brains", you spelled monkeys as "mookeys" in the
third paragraph."
If I put my observations in the comments, it's immediately obvious
which entry I'm referring to, so it's a little faster for me.
I don't do a lot of
spell-checking. Most of the time I knew what the author meant, so I
assume most other people will be able to figure it out. About the only
time I really spell-check is reading a Quibbles & Bits
story, because a typo will tend to kick me out of whatever happy-buzzy
place I've gone to while I'm reading his piece. His writing is too good
to have the narrative flow interrupted by the bad fortune of a mis-hit
key.
Oh, and I ragged on Trey recently, but that's mostly because he once made a big fuss over the importance of proofreading your entries.
Short answer: Dana's right - use e-mail.
But if you must use comments,
be nice. Unless it's funnier not to, and the person you're correcting
has a sense of humor where you're concerned.
posted by Harvey at 7:49:50 AM permalink HOME
|
|
|
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
|
|
GEEK STREET CRED
In the comments to this post, Brian (see J. Noggle, Musings from)
questioned my geek credibility. In an effort to reaffirm my geekdom, I
offer, verbatim, the Prime Directive, from the Star Trek original
series episode "Bread and Circuses":
No identification of self or mission.
No interference with the social development of said planet.
No references to space or the fact that there are other worlds or more advanced civilizations.
Word.
posted by Harvey at 7:53:12 PM permalink HOME
|
|
TODAY'S LOVE NOTE
(Introduction)
...How did I ever end up with you? I think fate must have gambled with
destiny and I won. I didn't have to question my love when we first met,
my heart already knew. I think that I must have lived an entire
lifetime in the moments that I was waiting for you. I do not know what
the future holds for us, but I trust you to take me where you want it
to go. Wherever you lead, I'll follow. I don't regret one thing that
has happened in my past. Every road I went down was one I had to take
to get me to you...
posted by Harvey at 7:05:32 PM permalink HOME
|
|
TODAY’S GRAFFITI
CURRENCY
[St. Lazerth - Anyone who Receives this bill will be Blessed with a Lot of Money if They Write this saying on 10 other Bills]
Next time try using St. Amway, the patron saint of marginally successful pyramid schemes.
posted by Harvey at 7:02:03 PM permalink HOME
|
|
YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE
To the five, yes FIVE different people who stood in front of my teller
window today, putting forth a hideous wall of reeking cigarette, stale
booze, and/or farm-animal by-product stench and performing numerous
banking transactions, while I gagged helplessly on your revolting funk:
WILL YOU PLEASE F****** BATHE?
Thank you.
posted by Harvey at 6:50:18 PM permalink HOME
|
| |