Saturday, December 29, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
News From Other Blogs
There are a couple of things I've seen on other blogs today that I thought I should share.
First up is this bit about Jessica Alba's fiance/baby daddy from What Would Tyler Durden Do?
This dude doesn't even really do anything, yet he snared the hottest piece of ass on earth, making this the biggest upset since I won that no-rules, underground MMA tournament in Thailand last year. With that in mind, you might think I'd begrudgingly give him the respect he's clearly earned. Yet, look, here I am, telling him to go fuck himself.
This was worth sharing simply because the last sentence made me snort.
The other item is from Neil Gaiman's blog, in which he responds, as always, reasonably and good-naturedly to a parent whose daughter is writing a book report on Stardust and who was shocked - shocked! - to find that that the word "fuck" appears in a book so obviously intended for children.
My 12-year old daughter chose Stardust for a school book report. We purchased it in paperback at Barnes and Noble. From the packaging, it looked like an appropriate fantasy story for her age and her 6th grade teacher approved it. We were very offended to find that it had an explicit sex scene and the word "fuck" in it.
Neil points out that it isn't actually a children's book, but my point in posting this here is that the usage of the word "fuck" - which appears exactly one time and in extremely small print, like this - is actually one of the best scenes in the book (not really sure about the "explicit" sex scene; I don't recall it being terribly explicit). In fact, that the particular scene did not appear in the movie is pretty much the only complaint that Scott and I had about the filmed adaptation. Actually, the scene does appear, it just doesn't include the one word that really sells it. We were hoping it would be there, and were almost leaning forward in anticipation of it, but alas, Claire Danes never utters it.
For anyone who hasn't read the book, the appearance of the word occurs shortly after Yvaine, a star, has fallen to earth and broken her leg in the process:
There was a cracking sound, sharp as a shot, and the light that had filled the grove was gone.
Or almost gone. There was a dim glow pulsing from the middle of the hazel thicket, as if a tiny cloud of stars were glimmering there.
And there was a voice, a high clear, female voice which said, "Ow," and then, very quitely, it said, "Fuck," and then it said, "Ow," once more.
And then it said nothing at all, and there was silence in the glade.
Still, well-written and funny or not, this evil passage will be responsible for creating a generation of sex-crazed, impious hooligans who might have otherwise lived their lives pure as the driven snow, completely free of ever encountering that horrible word if they had not been deceived or forced to read a book intended for adults , as it's not as though they could ever possibly encounter that world in their day-to-day lives.
And that's just a fucking shame.
First up is this bit about Jessica Alba's fiance/baby daddy from What Would Tyler Durden Do?
This dude doesn't even really do anything, yet he snared the hottest piece of ass on earth, making this the biggest upset since I won that no-rules, underground MMA tournament in Thailand last year. With that in mind, you might think I'd begrudgingly give him the respect he's clearly earned. Yet, look, here I am, telling him to go fuck himself.
This was worth sharing simply because the last sentence made me snort.
The other item is from Neil Gaiman's blog, in which he responds, as always, reasonably and good-naturedly to a parent whose daughter is writing a book report on Stardust and who was shocked - shocked! - to find that that the word "fuck" appears in a book so obviously intended for children.
My 12-year old daughter chose Stardust for a school book report. We purchased it in paperback at Barnes and Noble. From the packaging, it looked like an appropriate fantasy story for her age and her 6th grade teacher approved it. We were very offended to find that it had an explicit sex scene and the word "fuck" in it.
Neil points out that it isn't actually a children's book, but my point in posting this here is that the usage of the word "fuck" - which appears exactly one time and in extremely small print, like this - is actually one of the best scenes in the book (not really sure about the "explicit" sex scene; I don't recall it being terribly explicit). In fact, that the particular scene did not appear in the movie is pretty much the only complaint that Scott and I had about the filmed adaptation. Actually, the scene does appear, it just doesn't include the one word that really sells it. We were hoping it would be there, and were almost leaning forward in anticipation of it, but alas, Claire Danes never utters it.
For anyone who hasn't read the book, the appearance of the word occurs shortly after Yvaine, a star, has fallen to earth and broken her leg in the process:
There was a cracking sound, sharp as a shot, and the light that had filled the grove was gone.
Or almost gone. There was a dim glow pulsing from the middle of the hazel thicket, as if a tiny cloud of stars were glimmering there.
And there was a voice, a high clear, female voice which said, "Ow," and then, very quitely, it said, "Fuck," and then it said, "Ow," once more.
And then it said nothing at all, and there was silence in the glade.
Still, well-written and funny or not, this evil passage will be responsible for creating a generation of sex-crazed, impious hooligans who might have otherwise lived their lives pure as the driven snow, completely free of ever encountering that horrible word if they had not been deceived or forced to read a book intended for adults , as it's not as though they could ever possibly encounter that world in their day-to-day lives.
And that's just a fucking shame.
Guess I Picked The Wrong Week To Start Shooting Heroin
Yesterday afternoon I got the e-mails I was waiting for to begin the “onboarding” process for my new job.
For the most part it was kind of annoying, as I was just providing information about previous employment and my education that I’d already provided, and just signing off on various agreements, but there were some convenient aspects, such as filling out my W-4 and setting up direct deposit. It’s nice that I won’t have to mess with all of that paperwork.
I also got the location of the place where I had to take the drug test and the form I had t0 bring with me, so I took care of that this morning.
A sample question from the drug test. They also ask you to rate your level of highness on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being the lowest, and 10 being Lindsay Lohan the day before going into rehab.
Nothing sets the pace for a day like peeing in a cup.
The drug testing place was actually right by the place where AOL put me up temporarily when I first moved out here. The building had an interesting numbering system. I was looking for Suite 103, and had parked in front of Suite 102, which was at the end of the building. To the left of 102 was 101. To the left of 101 was 104, and to the left of that was 103.
I think the person who set up the numbering probably should have been tested for drugs.
After the drug test I swung by Wal-Mart to pick up a couple of things that I’d forgotten to grab yesterday. I was going to have lunch at the McDonald’s there, but it was too busy. I remembered that I was going to be stopping by the comic shop on the way home – new books are delayed until Friday this week and next – and that there’s a Subway right next to it. Budgetary concerns have led Scott and Stacy to cut some extraneous expenses, so Scott has chosen to sacrifice his comics. Pfft, like feeding your children is more important than comics. Get your priorities straight, Merlin T. Wizard! I’m the one not currently working, and that’s not stopping me from buying comics.
In any case, I picked up one of those Feast subs that Family Guy’s Petter Griffin has been hawking on TV from Subway, then made my way home.
And that’s been my day so far.
For the most part it was kind of annoying, as I was just providing information about previous employment and my education that I’d already provided, and just signing off on various agreements, but there were some convenient aspects, such as filling out my W-4 and setting up direct deposit. It’s nice that I won’t have to mess with all of that paperwork.
I also got the location of the place where I had to take the drug test and the form I had t0 bring with me, so I took care of that this morning.
A sample question from the drug test. They also ask you to rate your level of highness on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being the lowest, and 10 being Lindsay Lohan the day before going into rehab.
Nothing sets the pace for a day like peeing in a cup.
The drug testing place was actually right by the place where AOL put me up temporarily when I first moved out here. The building had an interesting numbering system. I was looking for Suite 103, and had parked in front of Suite 102, which was at the end of the building. To the left of 102 was 101. To the left of 101 was 104, and to the left of that was 103.
I think the person who set up the numbering probably should have been tested for drugs.
After the drug test I swung by Wal-Mart to pick up a couple of things that I’d forgotten to grab yesterday. I was going to have lunch at the McDonald’s there, but it was too busy. I remembered that I was going to be stopping by the comic shop on the way home – new books are delayed until Friday this week and next – and that there’s a Subway right next to it. Budgetary concerns have led Scott and Stacy to cut some extraneous expenses, so Scott has chosen to sacrifice his comics. Pfft, like feeding your children is more important than comics. Get your priorities straight, Merlin T. Wizard! I’m the one not currently working, and that’s not stopping me from buying comics.
In any case, I picked up one of those Feast subs that Family Guy’s Petter Griffin has been hawking on TV from Subway, then made my way home.
And that’s been my day so far.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Fangirls Can Relax; I Wouldn't Be Able To Fit A Woman In This Refrigerator
I decided that I would use the gift card my mom gave me for Christmas, along with the one she gave me for my housewarming, to buy a mini refrigerator for my office, as that’s where I spend most of my time, and it would spare me the trouble of having to go down to the kitchen to get something cold to drink when I wake up in the middle of the night with my mouth feeling like the Gobi desert.
I wasn’t 100% sure that I’d be able to fit it in my car, though, so I enlisted Kathleen to go shopping with me, as it would definitely fit in hers.
I also needed to pick up some new clothes, as the dress code at the new job isn’t quite as casual as it was at AOL. I grabbed a couple of pairs of Dockers, but I could only find one shirt that I liked:
Okay, no, that’s not the shirt I bought. The box for the refrigerator was ripped open on the bottom, and when I was taking it out of the box I found this shirt stuffed in the freezer. Evidently someone at Wal-Mart felt the need to stash it.
Anyone out there need a size 5T Halloween-themed shirt?
The cashier at the lane we went through caused Kathleen and I to give each other a few “WTF?” looks, as he was this extremely talkative – and utterly gay – male version of a southern belle. Luckily he chose to direct his gregariousness at the woman behind me when I got to him.
After that we stopped at Ruby Tuesday for lunch, where I used the gift card my sister Kim had given me for my housewarming.
While we were there the recruiter from my new job called to inform me that I should be getting an e-mail with a user name and password for the “onboarding” process sometime this afternoon. So far all I’ve gotten is an e-mail from her addressed to someone named Scott telling him to get his drug test ASAP that she CCed me on. I’d be happy to oblige, but a) I’m not Scott and b) I don’t know where I’m supposed to go for the drug test (presumably that information will be part of the onboarding process).
And that’s been my day so far.
Yesterday, thanks to the When Fangirls Attack! link Threshold set a new record for number of returning visits, as many people who had followed the last link returned via the new link. I won’t tell you the number, as you don’t really need to know how depressingly few return visits I actually get.
(The title of this post, by the way, is a comic geek in-joke that I really don’t feel like explaining, but you can go here if you want to learn more.)
I wasn’t 100% sure that I’d be able to fit it in my car, though, so I enlisted Kathleen to go shopping with me, as it would definitely fit in hers.
I also needed to pick up some new clothes, as the dress code at the new job isn’t quite as casual as it was at AOL. I grabbed a couple of pairs of Dockers, but I could only find one shirt that I liked:
Okay, no, that’s not the shirt I bought. The box for the refrigerator was ripped open on the bottom, and when I was taking it out of the box I found this shirt stuffed in the freezer. Evidently someone at Wal-Mart felt the need to stash it.
Anyone out there need a size 5T Halloween-themed shirt?
The cashier at the lane we went through caused Kathleen and I to give each other a few “WTF?” looks, as he was this extremely talkative – and utterly gay – male version of a southern belle. Luckily he chose to direct his gregariousness at the woman behind me when I got to him.
After that we stopped at Ruby Tuesday for lunch, where I used the gift card my sister Kim had given me for my housewarming.
While we were there the recruiter from my new job called to inform me that I should be getting an e-mail with a user name and password for the “onboarding” process sometime this afternoon. So far all I’ve gotten is an e-mail from her addressed to someone named Scott telling him to get his drug test ASAP that she CCed me on. I’d be happy to oblige, but a) I’m not Scott and b) I don’t know where I’m supposed to go for the drug test (presumably that information will be part of the onboarding process).
And that’s been my day so far.
Yesterday, thanks to the When Fangirls Attack! link Threshold set a new record for number of returning visits, as many people who had followed the last link returned via the new link. I won’t tell you the number, as you don’t really need to know how depressingly few return visits I actually get.
(The title of this post, by the way, is a comic geek in-joke that I really don’t feel like explaining, but you can go here if you want to learn more.)
We're Boned
I've been getting a lot of traffic from When Fangirls Attack! again, as there was a link posted to my Batman Night post, mostly, I'm assuming, due to my pictures (and accompanying captions) of my Black Canary statuette.
This inspired me to watch one of my favorite episodes of Justice League Unlimited, a Black Canary-centric episode entitled Grudge Match.
The basic premise of the episode is that Lex Luthor's team of villains, the Secret Society, has found a way to use Justice League comm links as mind control devices and is using them to make various female League members fight each other in an arena, making a tidy profit off of bets placed on the outcome of the matches.
The Huntress tumbles onto the scheme, and manages to free Black Canary from their control. The two heroines are promplty caught and thrown into the arena. Not to fight each other, but to instead fight two other powerful female Leaguers, Hawkgirl and Vixen. They manage to shake Vixen and Hawkgirl free of the control, but they're not out of the woods yet, as Roulette, the villainess behind the arena scheme, has an ace up her sleeve:
Vixen appears to be a woman after my own heart - I would say the exact same thing to Hawkgirl ("Keep her busy so I can take her from behind!").
My perviness aside, what I love most about this episode is when the four Leaguers see who they're up against and shrink back in the realization that they're boned.
(I also love an earlier scene in which Huntress is watching Canary, who is off her game due to the fact that, unbeknownst to her, when she's supposed to be sleeping she's actually off wailing on her teammates in the arena, is getting creamed by some thug she's trying to take down. Huntress steps in and takes him out with a garbage can lid. As Canary is securing him, Huntress asks, "What did he do, anyway?" Canary quietly replies, "He stole a wallet." Huntress' response is perfect. "Shut up! You got creamed by a pickpocket?")
The more observant among you may note the number of voices provided by actresses who appeared in some of Joss Whedon's projects, such as Angel's Amy Acker, who provides the voice of the Huntress.
You'll also note that Black Canary is lacking her trademark - and difficult to animate - fishnets.
This inspired me to watch one of my favorite episodes of Justice League Unlimited, a Black Canary-centric episode entitled Grudge Match.
The basic premise of the episode is that Lex Luthor's team of villains, the Secret Society, has found a way to use Justice League comm links as mind control devices and is using them to make various female League members fight each other in an arena, making a tidy profit off of bets placed on the outcome of the matches.
The Huntress tumbles onto the scheme, and manages to free Black Canary from their control. The two heroines are promplty caught and thrown into the arena. Not to fight each other, but to instead fight two other powerful female Leaguers, Hawkgirl and Vixen. They manage to shake Vixen and Hawkgirl free of the control, but they're not out of the woods yet, as Roulette, the villainess behind the arena scheme, has an ace up her sleeve:
Vixen appears to be a woman after my own heart - I would say the exact same thing to Hawkgirl ("Keep her busy so I can take her from behind!").
My perviness aside, what I love most about this episode is when the four Leaguers see who they're up against and shrink back in the realization that they're boned.
(I also love an earlier scene in which Huntress is watching Canary, who is off her game due to the fact that, unbeknownst to her, when she's supposed to be sleeping she's actually off wailing on her teammates in the arena, is getting creamed by some thug she's trying to take down. Huntress steps in and takes him out with a garbage can lid. As Canary is securing him, Huntress asks, "What did he do, anyway?" Canary quietly replies, "He stole a wallet." Huntress' response is perfect. "Shut up! You got creamed by a pickpocket?")
The more observant among you may note the number of voices provided by actresses who appeared in some of Joss Whedon's projects, such as Angel's Amy Acker, who provides the voice of the Huntress.
You'll also note that Black Canary is lacking her trademark - and difficult to animate - fishnets.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Keyword Kraziness: Boxing Day Edition
It’s time once again to review some of the search strings that have brought people here only to discover that it’s not the place to find what they’re looking for.
my apartment complex let me renew my lease even though i did not qualify
Is that a question?
jessica alba’s ass is distracting
We’ll see just how true that remains as her pregnancy progresses (or if it remains distracting in a good way).
brandie malay pics
brandie malay breasts
brandie malay bra
Here are all of the pictures of her that I was able to find via Google and Ask.com image searches and on the HGTV Web site:
There were no pictures (not even fake nudes) of her anywhere on Usenet. I didn’t try any of the torrent searches, but I would bet that you wouldn’t find anything if you were to try that yourself (try searching here if you don’t believe me)
I don’t suspect that there will ever be many more of them, and, as she is the host of a relatively obscure TV show on HGTV of all places and not a young pop star/spoiled heiress/coked-up actress, it seems unlikely that there are any photos of her standing around in her underwear (or less) available for public consumption. After all, when you consider how obsessively the paparazzi stalk people like Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton, it’s frankly amazing that we don’t see even more shots of their genitals and naked breasts than we already do. Given that someone like Brandie Malay is never going to get that level of stalkery attention, I doubt that anyone apart from her husband will get to see her wearing anything less than she wears on her show. To put it another way, I don’t think we’ll ever see the “ hidden potential” of her breasts. I will say that I agree that this is a damn shame.
my little pony jerk
What?
i have conversations with the tv
Are they with my TV? Because if they are, that two-timing bitch is going to get a serious talking to.
maddox crappy pictures
I assume you’re talking about these.
And that’s all for this edition, there were also, of course, the usual suspects, but there’s not point in including those.
In terms of your regularly scheduled Threshold entry, today was pretty low-key.
I got up when some old lady dialed a wrong number. My number is very close to the number of a local pharmacy, so I occasionally find myself answering the phone and letting people know that, no, in fact, I can’t fill their prescriptions for Viagra or Valtrex.
After that I did the usual sitting around doing nothing before taking a shower and heading out to pick up some groceries, at which time I was thrilled to discover that the grocery store was a virtual ghost town. It was such a rare treat to be able to move about so freely.
The drawback, of course, was that only one actual register was open and was jam-packed with the handful of competing shoppers, so I had to go through the self-checkout. This is what I would normally do, but I had a fair amount of stuff, and I usually prefer a real live cashier when I’m buying more than a few things.
Why? Well, on the self-checkout the bagging area only has room for about three full bags, and it’s sort of hit-or-miss as to whether or not the register will freak out when you put one bag in your cart to make room for another. Sometimes it will only freak out and demand that you return the bag for a few seconds before giving you the option of telling it that you have, in fact, removed the bag. Other times it will just stay freaked out until an employee comes along and tells it that it’s okay and that you aren’t trying to abscond with the items you’ve already scanned and will be paying for shortly, and that you’ve moved them out of the way.
It did a lot of the latter today.
When I got home I sat on the couch to take my shoes off and then struggled to come up with a reason to not go to bed. I couldn’t come up with one, but decided to defer making a decision about that until after I’d had lunch. By the time I’d finished lunch I’d gotten caught up in some show on National Geographic Channel HD, so I watched that, and then another show, but then, at around 2, decided that being awake just wasn’t for me, so I ended up taking a nap until a bit after 4.
Oh, and sometime before 2 I hung the framed Marvel super heroes stamps that Kathleen gave me in my office. See?
And that’s pretty much all there was to my day.
my apartment complex let me renew my lease even though i did not qualify
Is that a question?
jessica alba’s ass is distracting
We’ll see just how true that remains as her pregnancy progresses (or if it remains distracting in a good way).
brandie malay pics
brandie malay breasts
brandie malay bra
Here are all of the pictures of her that I was able to find via Google and Ask.com image searches and on the HGTV Web site:
There were no pictures (not even fake nudes) of her anywhere on Usenet. I didn’t try any of the torrent searches, but I would bet that you wouldn’t find anything if you were to try that yourself (try searching here if you don’t believe me)
I don’t suspect that there will ever be many more of them, and, as she is the host of a relatively obscure TV show on HGTV of all places and not a young pop star/spoiled heiress/coked-up actress, it seems unlikely that there are any photos of her standing around in her underwear (or less) available for public consumption. After all, when you consider how obsessively the paparazzi stalk people like Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton, it’s frankly amazing that we don’t see even more shots of their genitals and naked breasts than we already do. Given that someone like Brandie Malay is never going to get that level of stalkery attention, I doubt that anyone apart from her husband will get to see her wearing anything less than she wears on her show. To put it another way, I don’t think we’ll ever see the “ hidden potential” of her breasts. I will say that I agree that this is a damn shame.
my little pony jerk
What?
i have conversations with the tv
Are they with my TV? Because if they are, that two-timing bitch is going to get a serious talking to.
maddox crappy pictures
I assume you’re talking about these.
And that’s all for this edition, there were also, of course, the usual suspects, but there’s not point in including those.
In terms of your regularly scheduled Threshold entry, today was pretty low-key.
I got up when some old lady dialed a wrong number. My number is very close to the number of a local pharmacy, so I occasionally find myself answering the phone and letting people know that, no, in fact, I can’t fill their prescriptions for Viagra or Valtrex.
After that I did the usual sitting around doing nothing before taking a shower and heading out to pick up some groceries, at which time I was thrilled to discover that the grocery store was a virtual ghost town. It was such a rare treat to be able to move about so freely.
The drawback, of course, was that only one actual register was open and was jam-packed with the handful of competing shoppers, so I had to go through the self-checkout. This is what I would normally do, but I had a fair amount of stuff, and I usually prefer a real live cashier when I’m buying more than a few things.
Why? Well, on the self-checkout the bagging area only has room for about three full bags, and it’s sort of hit-or-miss as to whether or not the register will freak out when you put one bag in your cart to make room for another. Sometimes it will only freak out and demand that you return the bag for a few seconds before giving you the option of telling it that you have, in fact, removed the bag. Other times it will just stay freaked out until an employee comes along and tells it that it’s okay and that you aren’t trying to abscond with the items you’ve already scanned and will be paying for shortly, and that you’ve moved them out of the way.
It did a lot of the latter today.
When I got home I sat on the couch to take my shoes off and then struggled to come up with a reason to not go to bed. I couldn’t come up with one, but decided to defer making a decision about that until after I’d had lunch. By the time I’d finished lunch I’d gotten caught up in some show on National Geographic Channel HD, so I watched that, and then another show, but then, at around 2, decided that being awake just wasn’t for me, so I ended up taking a nap until a bit after 4.
Oh, and sometime before 2 I hung the framed Marvel super heroes stamps that Kathleen gave me in my office. See?
And that’s pretty much all there was to my day.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Giftastrophes: Gift-Related Catastrophes
I almost never eat at my dining room table, choosing to take most of my meals at my coffee table while I watch TV. After all, it’s not as though I’ll be having scintillating dinner conversations with anyone.
So the only real use my table gets is as a sort of catch-all for junk mail and various other sundries, which sit there cluttering things up until Sunday rolls around and I haul the garbage out to the curb.
Which is why, when I’d noted that the gift I’d gotten for Kathleen – a spa gift card – was on the table with all of the junk, I picked it up and decided that I needed to put it somewhere so that it wouldn’t get tossed out along with the junk mail.
I distinctly recall picking it up and thinking that. I do not, however, recall actually following through on the thought.
If I did, I have no idea where I put it, and though I searched everywhere before Kathleen came over, I couldn’t find it, which leads me to conclude that my fears for its fate came to pass.
This is bothersome because a) I didn’t have a gift to give Kathleen (who took the news in stride and got a laugh over my incompetence) and b) I essentially just opened my wallet, took some money out, and tossed it into the garbage.
So that was the first giftastrophe of the evening.
The second came when I brought out my Black Canary statuette to show her, and, in the course of an animated conversation, an inadvertent swipe of Kathleen’s hand broke three fingers off of Black Canary’s.
I guess it evens out: I threw away her gift and she broke one of mine.
(My gift from Kathleen was one of the sets of Marvel super hero stamps, which she matted and framed. I’ll post a picture tomorrow.)
So the only real use my table gets is as a sort of catch-all for junk mail and various other sundries, which sit there cluttering things up until Sunday rolls around and I haul the garbage out to the curb.
Which is why, when I’d noted that the gift I’d gotten for Kathleen – a spa gift card – was on the table with all of the junk, I picked it up and decided that I needed to put it somewhere so that it wouldn’t get tossed out along with the junk mail.
I distinctly recall picking it up and thinking that. I do not, however, recall actually following through on the thought.
If I did, I have no idea where I put it, and though I searched everywhere before Kathleen came over, I couldn’t find it, which leads me to conclude that my fears for its fate came to pass.
This is bothersome because a) I didn’t have a gift to give Kathleen (who took the news in stride and got a laugh over my incompetence) and b) I essentially just opened my wallet, took some money out, and tossed it into the garbage.
So that was the first giftastrophe of the evening.
The second came when I brought out my Black Canary statuette to show her, and, in the course of an animated conversation, an inadvertent swipe of Kathleen’s hand broke three fingers off of Black Canary’s.
I guess it evens out: I threw away her gift and she broke one of mine.
(My gift from Kathleen was one of the sets of Marvel super hero stamps, which she matted and framed. I’ll post a picture tomorrow.)
Batman Night (Plus: Fishnets!)
So apparently I started a new tradition last night and henceforth Christmas Eve shall be known as Batman Night in the Heimdall household.
It started out with me deciding that I should get kind of into the spirit of things and watching the Christmas With The Joker episode of Batman: The Animated Series.
That episode has one of the greatest Batman lines ever. Robin, convinced that it’ll be a slow night in Gotham on Christmas Eve, makes a deal with Batman that if they go on patrol and nothing is happening, they’ll head back to Wayne Manor, enjoy a delicious Alfred-prepared meal, and watch It’s a Wonderful Life.
Batman says, “You know, I’ve never actually seen that. I could never get past the title.”
(One of my other favorite animated Batman line comes from an episode of Justice League Unlimited adapting Alan Moore’s excellent Superman story For The Man Who Has Everything. He and Wonder Woman are on their way to a private celebration of Superman’s birthday. Wonder Woman comments on how difficult it was to find an appropriate gift. Batman says, “Yes, it’s a difficult question: what do you get for the man who has everything?” There’s a pause, and then, horrified, Wonder Woman says, “Bruce…you didn’t get him a gift certificate, did you?” Batman responds in an offended tone, “Of course not!” Then, a little more weakly, adds “I’m giving him cash.”)
After that I decided to watch Holiday Knights, another holiday-themed episode from later in the series’ run. Watching that made me want to watch Batman: Mask of the Phantasm, the animated movie. That actually maintained the Christmas connection, as while the move itself doesn’t have a holiday theme, it did open in theaters on Christmas day back in 1993.
Watching that made me want to watch Batman Begins, which I did.
So it was an all-Batman night for me.
I don’t think I have anything else Chrismas-y to watch, unless you count the video of the photoshoot from which I pulled the reference image for my Christmas Eve picture, which, all things considered, probably isn’t the most appropriate Christmas video.
(I will just say that there are several other girls besides Eve in the photoshoot/video, so make of that what you will. I had been thinking about drawing a picture that featured Eve with her arms around two of the other similarly-clad girls and titling it Ho Ho Ho, but it would have been too much work and the other girls aren’t nearly as hot as Eve.)
Though all of the anticipation that accompanied the prospect of Christmas morning in my youth is long gone, I still traditionally have a difficult time getting to sleep on Christmas Eve, so I actually ended up being up until sometime after 2 with all of my Batman watching.
This morning I was off to Scott and Stacy’s for Christmas brunch, where I finally got to open a gift.
Scott had gotten me an Adam Hughes-designed Black Canary statuette (seen in the midst of unleashing her “Canary Cry”) from the same Women of the DC Universe series as the Power Girl statuette I got him when he got his new job. So now once I have my cubicle at my new job I’ll have some geek bling for it:
“I said, ‘MERRY CHRISTMAS AND STOP STARING AT MY BREASTS!’”
“No, I don’t know how my waist can possibly support my upper body.”
The Benes’ Eye View.
From this angle she looks like she’s preparing to catch Ollie’s “trick arrow,” if you know what I’m saying. (Hint: I’m talking about oral sex.) Coincidentally, it also looks a lot like the majority of the thumbnail previews of many of the video files on my hard drive.
He was torn between getting me the Black Canary statuette and getting me the Zatanna statuette, but the Canary won out due to the odd expression on Zatanna’s face, what with her tongue sticking out and all. Either way, fishnets, so I’m happy.
Of course, if they’d had it, he would have gotten me the Catwoman statuette, which would have been very cool.
Still, I have no complaints. I’ve always liked the Black Canary – except when she was presented as a strident, feminist cliché during the Giffen-Dematteis run of Justice League – and I really came to like her when she was handled by Gail Simone. Of course, Gail’s deft handling of the character worked against her, as she made Black Canary so popular that DC editorial took the character away from her to make her the current head of the Justice League and to give her a title of her own (shared with new hubby the Green Arrow).
I’m actually still waiting on a couple more presents, as my sister Kim got my address wrong, and presumably at some point today I’ll be getting one from Kathleen (and giving her one).
For some reason I’ve been getting flooded with MySpace friend requests today. I usually get a few a week, which I pretty much always ignore, as they are invariably just spammers, and I don’t actually spend any time on MySpace anyway, but they’ve been coming in non-stop.
Oh well, it gives me the illusion of popularity, which is important when you’re a jerk that no one likes. I think I’m going to make a T-shirt that says, “I’m the jerk that no one likes,” and include the text of the Emily Deschanel fan forum rant on it.
What can I say, apart from once having a commenter here call me a “whiny, pathetic buttwad,” I’ve never really been flamed – that I know of – on an Internet message board, so it feels kind of like an honor, albeit a dubious one.
Once I got home from brunch (I left just as they were preparing their marshmallow guns for battle and the grim specter of all-out marshmallow war was looming over everything. As a conscientious marshmallow objector, I could not in good conscience stay to watch the puffy, sugary mutually assured stickiness of their insane war. Marshmallow war is, after all, hell.) I called my sister and talked to her and her brood, then gave my mom a call. It’s a good thing I punked out and just gave money, as I was going to buy my mom a DVD player, but the grandkids got her one.
My plan to buy my nephew Jeremy a PSP for his graduation got shot down, too, as he got one today. His response: Get me a DS.
Because, you know, an X-Box, a Wii, a PS3, a PSP, and who knows what all else simply are not enough gaming systems.
It started out with me deciding that I should get kind of into the spirit of things and watching the Christmas With The Joker episode of Batman: The Animated Series.
That episode has one of the greatest Batman lines ever. Robin, convinced that it’ll be a slow night in Gotham on Christmas Eve, makes a deal with Batman that if they go on patrol and nothing is happening, they’ll head back to Wayne Manor, enjoy a delicious Alfred-prepared meal, and watch It’s a Wonderful Life.
Batman says, “You know, I’ve never actually seen that. I could never get past the title.”
(One of my other favorite animated Batman line comes from an episode of Justice League Unlimited adapting Alan Moore’s excellent Superman story For The Man Who Has Everything. He and Wonder Woman are on their way to a private celebration of Superman’s birthday. Wonder Woman comments on how difficult it was to find an appropriate gift. Batman says, “Yes, it’s a difficult question: what do you get for the man who has everything?” There’s a pause, and then, horrified, Wonder Woman says, “Bruce…you didn’t get him a gift certificate, did you?” Batman responds in an offended tone, “Of course not!” Then, a little more weakly, adds “I’m giving him cash.”)
After that I decided to watch Holiday Knights, another holiday-themed episode from later in the series’ run. Watching that made me want to watch Batman: Mask of the Phantasm, the animated movie. That actually maintained the Christmas connection, as while the move itself doesn’t have a holiday theme, it did open in theaters on Christmas day back in 1993.
Watching that made me want to watch Batman Begins, which I did.
So it was an all-Batman night for me.
I don’t think I have anything else Chrismas-y to watch, unless you count the video of the photoshoot from which I pulled the reference image for my Christmas Eve picture, which, all things considered, probably isn’t the most appropriate Christmas video.
(I will just say that there are several other girls besides Eve in the photoshoot/video, so make of that what you will. I had been thinking about drawing a picture that featured Eve with her arms around two of the other similarly-clad girls and titling it Ho Ho Ho, but it would have been too much work and the other girls aren’t nearly as hot as Eve.)
Though all of the anticipation that accompanied the prospect of Christmas morning in my youth is long gone, I still traditionally have a difficult time getting to sleep on Christmas Eve, so I actually ended up being up until sometime after 2 with all of my Batman watching.
This morning I was off to Scott and Stacy’s for Christmas brunch, where I finally got to open a gift.
Scott had gotten me an Adam Hughes-designed Black Canary statuette (seen in the midst of unleashing her “Canary Cry”) from the same Women of the DC Universe series as the Power Girl statuette I got him when he got his new job. So now once I have my cubicle at my new job I’ll have some geek bling for it:
“I said, ‘MERRY CHRISTMAS AND STOP STARING AT MY BREASTS!’”
“No, I don’t know how my waist can possibly support my upper body.”
The Benes’ Eye View.
From this angle she looks like she’s preparing to catch Ollie’s “trick arrow,” if you know what I’m saying. (Hint: I’m talking about oral sex.) Coincidentally, it also looks a lot like the majority of the thumbnail previews of many of the video files on my hard drive.
He was torn between getting me the Black Canary statuette and getting me the Zatanna statuette, but the Canary won out due to the odd expression on Zatanna’s face, what with her tongue sticking out and all. Either way, fishnets, so I’m happy.
Of course, if they’d had it, he would have gotten me the Catwoman statuette, which would have been very cool.
Still, I have no complaints. I’ve always liked the Black Canary – except when she was presented as a strident, feminist cliché during the Giffen-Dematteis run of Justice League – and I really came to like her when she was handled by Gail Simone. Of course, Gail’s deft handling of the character worked against her, as she made Black Canary so popular that DC editorial took the character away from her to make her the current head of the Justice League and to give her a title of her own (shared with new hubby the Green Arrow).
I’m actually still waiting on a couple more presents, as my sister Kim got my address wrong, and presumably at some point today I’ll be getting one from Kathleen (and giving her one).
For some reason I’ve been getting flooded with MySpace friend requests today. I usually get a few a week, which I pretty much always ignore, as they are invariably just spammers, and I don’t actually spend any time on MySpace anyway, but they’ve been coming in non-stop.
Oh well, it gives me the illusion of popularity, which is important when you’re a jerk that no one likes. I think I’m going to make a T-shirt that says, “I’m the jerk that no one likes,” and include the text of the Emily Deschanel fan forum rant on it.
What can I say, apart from once having a commenter here call me a “whiny, pathetic buttwad,” I’ve never really been flamed – that I know of – on an Internet message board, so it feels kind of like an honor, albeit a dubious one.
Once I got home from brunch (I left just as they were preparing their marshmallow guns for battle and the grim specter of all-out marshmallow war was looming over everything. As a conscientious marshmallow objector, I could not in good conscience stay to watch the puffy, sugary mutually assured stickiness of their insane war. Marshmallow war is, after all, hell.) I called my sister and talked to her and her brood, then gave my mom a call. It’s a good thing I punked out and just gave money, as I was going to buy my mom a DVD player, but the grandkids got her one.
My plan to buy my nephew Jeremy a PSP for his graduation got shot down, too, as he got one today. His response: Get me a DS.
Because, you know, an X-Box, a Wii, a PS3, a PSP, and who knows what all else simply are not enough gaming systems.
A Very Threshold Christmas
Merry Christmas from Threshold!
And in the spirit of peace on Earth, Merry Christmas to fans of Emily Deschanel everywhere from the jerk that no one likes!
And in the spirit of peace on Earth, Merry Christmas to fans of Emily Deschanel everywhere from the jerk that no one likes!
Monday, December 24, 2007
Christmas Eve
Model and adult film star Eve Angel, that is.
(Posted just in case Santa is in need of some last-minute gift ideas for me.)
(Posted just in case Santa is in need of some last-minute gift ideas for me.)
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Conversations With My TV
When I watched The Simpsons Movie DVD the other night I discovered that I’d inadvertently bought the full screen version rather than the widescreen. D’oh!
I also learned that the first post-cancellation Futurama feature-length DVD is out, so now I need to pick up a copy of that as well.
Apart from being called a jerk that no one likes, my weekend was largely uneventful. I did the laundry today. That’s about as exciting as it got.
I did complete a picture – which I’ll be posting tomorrow – and was going to start working on another, but I got distracted this afternoon when I sat down to eat a late lunch and discovered that TLC was running a marathon of Property Ladder, so that ate up the rest of my day.
Sure, I’ve seen all of them before, many of them multiple times, but how could I say no to hours and hours of Kirsten Kemp? I couldn’t, that’s how (Even though, technically, I probably got under an hour of actual Kirsten time, as she’s only in each episode for like ten minutes.). And if I’d tried, I’m sure Mistress Kirsten would have disciplined me severely.
Property Ladder is one of those shows that invariably leads me to engage in a “conversation” with my TV.
This often takes the form of me saying things like, “See? You should have listened to Kirsten.” when the house-flippers run into trouble for not taking her advice. Or saying, “That’s what she does” when a formerly optimistic flipper has met with Kirsten and is talking about how she came along and viciously slapped down their hopeful attitudes with a dose of reality. But more often I’m engaged in conversations with the announcer that invariably go something like this:
Announcer: Want to make more money in a couple of months than you did all last year?
Me: Not as much as I want to get it on with Kirsten.
Announcer: Try climbing the Property Ladder!
Me: I’d rather try climbing Kirsten.
Announcer: Let’s see what Kirsten thinks about their progress.
Me: Let’s see what Kirsten is wearing.
Announcer: Now it’s Kirsten’s turn to check out the results.
Me: Now it’s my turn to check out Kirsten.
…and so forth.
(And no, my TV does not talk back to me.)
Now that I’m once again between jobs I’m back to being uncertain as to what day it is. I was convinced it was Monday when I woke up. I actually had to check the clock on my computer before I would believe that it was Sunday, not that it actually mattered. Every day is the same as any other for the next two weeks or so, then it’s back to an entirely different kind of salt mine than the ones I’ve been in for the past six years or so.
The five day work week is going to take some serious getting used to, but I will appreciate the shorter work days and things like having holidays off.
And, you know, not having to be in a dark, cold cave listening to people talking endlessly about WoW.
In the short time I spent in the actual NOC at the job I didn’t want, I actually ended up hearing lots of talk about raids and mages and dwarves and whatnot, though that was all interspersed with just slightly more sports babble than was present at AOL.
Either way, I’m glad to be out of there.
One thing that really bothered me about the job I didn’t want – apart from the job itself – was the fact that nothing there was free. I don’t drink coffee, but it bothered me to note that coffee from the machine had to be paid for, as that seems really chintzy. Worse, they didn’t even have a water cooler (or a water fountain, for that matter), so I actually had to buy water.
Sure, it’s cool that they actually have a little convenience store and, for the coffee drinkers, an actual Starbucks right in the building, but come on, you can’t even provide water and cheap coffee for free?
The whole time I was in the class we were often interrupted by the sound of construction of their new fitness center – the use of which will also not be free for employees.
When I got the voicemail on Thursday from the recruiter for the job that I want and now have, I immediately recognized her voice before she identified herself and got to the point of asking that I call her back as soon as I had a chance because she had “great news.”
When I did call her and she gave me the news, she asked if I was at the contract job. I said that I was, and she asked how that was going. When I said, “Meh,” she laughed and confidently stated “We’re better.”
She’ll be absolutely correct if they simply have a water cooler, as I am, as Brian once put it, a crazy water drinkin’ fool, but I’m sure there will be plenty of other things that make them better.
My Christmas present from my mom arrived yesterday. I already knew what it was (Wal-Mart gift card) so I opened it. Still haven’t gotten anything from my sister Kim, but I’m sure it’ll arrive tomorrow.
Last night Stacy called to invite me over for Christmas brunch on Tuesday, and she informed me that Scott has gotten me something “awesome.” Sadly, what I got for them is considerably less than awesome.
As I said in an earlier post, I pretty much punked out on buying Christmas presents this year.
Oh well, there’s always next year.
I Don’t Come To Your House And Make You Watch Porn Department:
One day shortly before I started working at the job that I didn’t want, I spotted some Jehovah’s Witnesses prowling around the neighborhood, so I shut everything off downstairs and headed up to the office, where I totally ignored the inevitable knock on my door.
After they gave up and went away, it occurred to me that in the future I should put my Evangelist Emergency Plan into effect. It’s an idea I’ve half-seriously considered for a while which could be perfectly executed now that I have the 42” LCD TV up on the wall.
The “plan” would consist entirely of having a porn DVD handy at all times so that I could put it playing before inviting the door-to-door God salesmen in.
And not just any porn, German porn.
If they complained, I would simply say, “You’re the ones who wanted to come in to my house; now you have to face the consequences. Besides, I don’t go around to other people’s houses asking the to watch porn, so don’t come into mine asking me not to watch.”
Of course, this would be needlessly cruel – and I’ve probably engaged in enough needless cruelty already – even though it would be funny (to me), so I suppose that hiding out in my office until they go away is the best option.
Besides, my HD DVD player takes forever to boot up (it has an OS built in), so it wouldn’t be that easy to have it ready unless I had advance notice that they were coming, which I normally don’t (this last time being a notable exception).
I also learned that the first post-cancellation Futurama feature-length DVD is out, so now I need to pick up a copy of that as well.
Apart from being called a jerk that no one likes, my weekend was largely uneventful. I did the laundry today. That’s about as exciting as it got.
I did complete a picture – which I’ll be posting tomorrow – and was going to start working on another, but I got distracted this afternoon when I sat down to eat a late lunch and discovered that TLC was running a marathon of Property Ladder, so that ate up the rest of my day.
Sure, I’ve seen all of them before, many of them multiple times, but how could I say no to hours and hours of Kirsten Kemp? I couldn’t, that’s how (Even though, technically, I probably got under an hour of actual Kirsten time, as she’s only in each episode for like ten minutes.). And if I’d tried, I’m sure Mistress Kirsten would have disciplined me severely.
Property Ladder is one of those shows that invariably leads me to engage in a “conversation” with my TV.
This often takes the form of me saying things like, “See? You should have listened to Kirsten.” when the house-flippers run into trouble for not taking her advice. Or saying, “That’s what she does” when a formerly optimistic flipper has met with Kirsten and is talking about how she came along and viciously slapped down their hopeful attitudes with a dose of reality. But more often I’m engaged in conversations with the announcer that invariably go something like this:
Announcer: Want to make more money in a couple of months than you did all last year?
Me: Not as much as I want to get it on with Kirsten.
Announcer: Try climbing the Property Ladder!
Me: I’d rather try climbing Kirsten.
Announcer: Let’s see what Kirsten thinks about their progress.
Me: Let’s see what Kirsten is wearing.
Announcer: Now it’s Kirsten’s turn to check out the results.
Me: Now it’s my turn to check out Kirsten.
…and so forth.
(And no, my TV does not talk back to me.)
Now that I’m once again between jobs I’m back to being uncertain as to what day it is. I was convinced it was Monday when I woke up. I actually had to check the clock on my computer before I would believe that it was Sunday, not that it actually mattered. Every day is the same as any other for the next two weeks or so, then it’s back to an entirely different kind of salt mine than the ones I’ve been in for the past six years or so.
The five day work week is going to take some serious getting used to, but I will appreciate the shorter work days and things like having holidays off.
And, you know, not having to be in a dark, cold cave listening to people talking endlessly about WoW.
In the short time I spent in the actual NOC at the job I didn’t want, I actually ended up hearing lots of talk about raids and mages and dwarves and whatnot, though that was all interspersed with just slightly more sports babble than was present at AOL.
Either way, I’m glad to be out of there.
One thing that really bothered me about the job I didn’t want – apart from the job itself – was the fact that nothing there was free. I don’t drink coffee, but it bothered me to note that coffee from the machine had to be paid for, as that seems really chintzy. Worse, they didn’t even have a water cooler (or a water fountain, for that matter), so I actually had to buy water.
Sure, it’s cool that they actually have a little convenience store and, for the coffee drinkers, an actual Starbucks right in the building, but come on, you can’t even provide water and cheap coffee for free?
The whole time I was in the class we were often interrupted by the sound of construction of their new fitness center – the use of which will also not be free for employees.
When I got the voicemail on Thursday from the recruiter for the job that I want and now have, I immediately recognized her voice before she identified herself and got to the point of asking that I call her back as soon as I had a chance because she had “great news.”
When I did call her and she gave me the news, she asked if I was at the contract job. I said that I was, and she asked how that was going. When I said, “Meh,” she laughed and confidently stated “We’re better.”
She’ll be absolutely correct if they simply have a water cooler, as I am, as Brian once put it, a crazy water drinkin’ fool, but I’m sure there will be plenty of other things that make them better.
My Christmas present from my mom arrived yesterday. I already knew what it was (Wal-Mart gift card) so I opened it. Still haven’t gotten anything from my sister Kim, but I’m sure it’ll arrive tomorrow.
Last night Stacy called to invite me over for Christmas brunch on Tuesday, and she informed me that Scott has gotten me something “awesome.” Sadly, what I got for them is considerably less than awesome.
As I said in an earlier post, I pretty much punked out on buying Christmas presents this year.
Oh well, there’s always next year.
I Don’t Come To Your House And Make You Watch Porn Department:
One day shortly before I started working at the job that I didn’t want, I spotted some Jehovah’s Witnesses prowling around the neighborhood, so I shut everything off downstairs and headed up to the office, where I totally ignored the inevitable knock on my door.
After they gave up and went away, it occurred to me that in the future I should put my Evangelist Emergency Plan into effect. It’s an idea I’ve half-seriously considered for a while which could be perfectly executed now that I have the 42” LCD TV up on the wall.
The “plan” would consist entirely of having a porn DVD handy at all times so that I could put it playing before inviting the door-to-door God salesmen in.
And not just any porn, German porn.
If they complained, I would simply say, “You’re the ones who wanted to come in to my house; now you have to face the consequences. Besides, I don’t go around to other people’s houses asking the to watch porn, so don’t come into mine asking me not to watch.”
Of course, this would be needlessly cruel – and I’ve probably engaged in enough needless cruelty already – even though it would be funny (to me), so I suppose that hiding out in my office until they go away is the best option.
Besides, my HD DVD player takes forever to boot up (it has an OS built in), so it wouldn’t be that easy to have it ready unless I had advance notice that they were coming, which I normally don’t (this last time being a notable exception).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
