LET'S PLAY FUNNY NOT FUNNY
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Fu
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Tiger
Friday, June 24, 2005
Matt Santini let me install his copy of OS X Tiger yesterday. It gives me a nerdy warm feeling inside checking out the slick useless things that it does (colors morphing around my screensaver.. pretty lights). There's all these widgets you can download and open up as a second desktop, and they don't do anything you can't already do on any computer but I still wasted a good bit of time fucking around with them. Do we need realtime sunlight patterns and dancing hula homers? I do damnit, and life feels a little more complete now that I have them.
+ 
=
+ =some days you just can't get rid of a bomb
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Go
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
A board game invented by the Chinese 4 centuries ago and studied by Japanese Samurai from 700 A.D. onward. Go is simple but it's hard to master and no two games ever turn out the same. It's more fun than solitaire for killing time and I feel smarter whenever I'm playing well (not often). Check it, and click the pic for how to play:
Go for OS X
Go for Windows
Disney Corp. FTW!!!!11
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
I'm watching the NBA finals on ABC. Stuart Scott from the ESPN is doing some work on the broadcast, which got me remembering that Disney owns way too much stuff, which in turn got me thinking about all the elite companies that own way too much stuff. The following corporations scare the crap out of me, as they wield a power over regular people usually reserved for guys like Highlander or Xenu. Click the links to check out the various empires.
Disney
Time Warner
Viacom
General Electric
plus these guys, who don't own quite as much but scare me just as much if not a little bit more.
^Rupert Murdoch, enjoying another helping of our delicious money
Disney
Time Warner
Viacom
General Electric
plus these guys, who don't own quite as much but scare me just as much if not a little bit more.
^Rupert Murdoch, enjoying another helping of our delicious money
AI
Monday, June 20, 2005
PAT, Who Was Hell With His Fists
Sunday, June 19, 2005
PAT, Who Was Hell With His Fists
by Michael Ian Black
When I was in Junior College I knew a guy named Pat who was hell with his fists. Everybody thought Pat was the tops, but nobody messed with him. Nobody would dare, because Pat was hell with his fists.
One day, there was a mean guy who started calling Pat names for no reason at all, and it seemed to all of us watching that this mean guy was itching for a fight. But Pat didn't want to fight, so he just kept walking. The mean guy was calling Pat terrible names. Names like "Chicken" and "Fraidy Cat!" Pat kept walking though and didn't pay that mean guy no mind. Then the mean guy started calling Pat's girlfriend names, and Pat was steamed!!! But he didn't punch the guy because Pat was reading a book about Gandhi.
But then the mean guy started calling Pat's mother names, and that was too much even for Pat. Everybody knew Pat's mother was a saint who had died saving a hat from a burning building. Pat stopped right in his tracks, and when that happened we all knew Pat was finally going to use those fabled fists of his, because Gandhi is one thing, but a guy's mother, by definition, is something else entirely. Many people said, "Don't do it, Pat," and "No, Pat," but Pat couldn't hear those people. He was lost in a world of his own, a world not unlike our own planet Earth, but without all those people who were telling Pat not to punch the mean guy.
Pat's eyes grew very big, and his hands curled up into tight little balls, or to put it another, more succinct, way, fists. Then Pat reared back his mighty hands and punched the mean guy as hard as he could, even though by now the whole crowd was screaming, "No, Pat!"
Well, what do you think happened then? We all heard a terrible sound, a sound we all recognized from movies in which bones broke. It was the sound of bones breaking, and then we saw a man on the ground in terrible pain. And who do you think that man was? It was Pat! Pat, who was hell with his fists! He was lying in the road holding his broken fists and saying certain swear words like "Damn!" and "Damn It!"
You see, Pat had discovered what the rest of the crowd had been warning him about when they had said, "Don't do it, Pat," and "No, Pat!" They had noticed something that Pat, in his anger, couldn't see. They had noticed that the mean guy was made out of CONCRETE! He was a concrete man, the only one any of us had ever seen, and what's more, he was a transfer student.
The mean guy just stood there laughing, and after a while some of the people in the crowd began laughing, too. Pretty soon, everybody was laughing, because even though we all felt bad for Pat, it was kind of funny that he had tried to punch a guy made out of concrete. Pat walked away alone, and the mean guy took us all out for fries. It turns out his name was Steve, and he wasn't so mean after all.
I lost touch with Pat after that. We all did. He dropped out of school and died a few years later from a stomach disease that he left untreated because he was reading a book about Christian Scientists.
-from State by State with The State, Hyperion publishing
by Michael Ian Black
When I was in Junior College I knew a guy named Pat who was hell with his fists. Everybody thought Pat was the tops, but nobody messed with him. Nobody would dare, because Pat was hell with his fists.
One day, there was a mean guy who started calling Pat names for no reason at all, and it seemed to all of us watching that this mean guy was itching for a fight. But Pat didn't want to fight, so he just kept walking. The mean guy was calling Pat terrible names. Names like "Chicken" and "Fraidy Cat!" Pat kept walking though and didn't pay that mean guy no mind. Then the mean guy started calling Pat's girlfriend names, and Pat was steamed!!! But he didn't punch the guy because Pat was reading a book about Gandhi.
But then the mean guy started calling Pat's mother names, and that was too much even for Pat. Everybody knew Pat's mother was a saint who had died saving a hat from a burning building. Pat stopped right in his tracks, and when that happened we all knew Pat was finally going to use those fabled fists of his, because Gandhi is one thing, but a guy's mother, by definition, is something else entirely. Many people said, "Don't do it, Pat," and "No, Pat," but Pat couldn't hear those people. He was lost in a world of his own, a world not unlike our own planet Earth, but without all those people who were telling Pat not to punch the mean guy.
Pat's eyes grew very big, and his hands curled up into tight little balls, or to put it another, more succinct, way, fists. Then Pat reared back his mighty hands and punched the mean guy as hard as he could, even though by now the whole crowd was screaming, "No, Pat!"
Well, what do you think happened then? We all heard a terrible sound, a sound we all recognized from movies in which bones broke. It was the sound of bones breaking, and then we saw a man on the ground in terrible pain. And who do you think that man was? It was Pat! Pat, who was hell with his fists! He was lying in the road holding his broken fists and saying certain swear words like "Damn!" and "Damn It!"
You see, Pat had discovered what the rest of the crowd had been warning him about when they had said, "Don't do it, Pat," and "No, Pat!" They had noticed something that Pat, in his anger, couldn't see. They had noticed that the mean guy was made out of CONCRETE! He was a concrete man, the only one any of us had ever seen, and what's more, he was a transfer student.
The mean guy just stood there laughing, and after a while some of the people in the crowd began laughing, too. Pretty soon, everybody was laughing, because even though we all felt bad for Pat, it was kind of funny that he had tried to punch a guy made out of concrete. Pat walked away alone, and the mean guy took us all out for fries. It turns out his name was Steve, and he wasn't so mean after all.
I lost touch with Pat after that. We all did. He dropped out of school and died a few years later from a stomach disease that he left untreated because he was reading a book about Christian Scientists.
-from State by State with The State, Hyperion publishing
mein kampf
Saturday, June 18, 2005
I spend alot of computer time moving my laptop a couple of inches around my desk, in hopes of reconnecting to one of our neighbors wireless networks. We pay for the internet and have a router meant for distributing the internet wirelessly, but something is broken deep inside of said router and the result is no internet at all. I usually steal my internet from "17Aberdeen6" or "robyoko" becuase no network password = free internet!! However they provide two bars of service maximum, and the difference between one and two bars is kind of like the difference between internet and no internet.
I spend alot of computer time looking at this screen or screens of a similar nature. It is a necessary and extremely fucking frustrating part of my day. Once I begin to move the laptop around the desk, sometimes one bar will magically become two, or sometimes one bar will turn into zero bars, and at this point I really miss the internet and I usually just leave in anger and go watch some tv. Ah, television. Where would we be without you? On the internet.
I spend alot of computer time looking at this screen or screens of a similar nature. It is a necessary and extremely fucking frustrating part of my day. Once I begin to move the laptop around the desk, sometimes one bar will magically become two, or sometimes one bar will turn into zero bars, and at this point I really miss the internet and I usually just leave in anger and go watch some tv. Ah, television. Where would we be without you? On the internet.
George Oscar Bluth
Friday, June 17, 2005
me and jesus
Thursday, June 16, 2005
have you seen this? have you heard about this one?
aaron druck made it! he will be here all week.
brog!
hello??/
