The World Isn't Ready

I went clothes shopping the other day, and as I wandered through the menswear section I found myself continually looking like this:

ಠ_ಠ

This was in part because I just generally hate buying clothes - it's money that could be better spent on comics or gadgets - but mostly because my sensibilities were offended by the gaudy array of pastels and otherwise garish colors, and the near-impossibility of finding anything my size that even approached being acceptable.
At one point I found myself completely stopped in my tracks by the sight of red pants.
Red.
Pants.
Unless you're a member of a Loverboy tribute band - and you're wearing them for a paying gig - I can't see any earthly reason why any man would ever buy red pants.
On Monday I was telling Dan about this, and he suggested that I should have bought them.
I countered that wearing the pants would require some additional wardrobe adjustments and equally dodgy sartorial choices:

Yes, the power of the pants would make me blond again.

Somehow I just don't think the world is ready for it.

Cinnamon Mist

After coming back inside from smoking a cigarette, I opted to get all of my vitamins and supplements for the week ready, and while I was putting them into their assorted pill caddies, I realized that I hadn’t taken any of them today.
So I did that, then headed back upstairs and sat down to do some drawing.
While I was sitting there drawing, I burped.  That’s hardly unusual, especially considering that I had eaten dinner about a half an hour earlier.
What was unusual, however, was the smoke that the belch produced.
”Wait a minute…it’s been at least a good twenty minutes since I smoked a cigarette…the hell?”
Then the cinnamon flavor kicked in, and I realized that it wasn’t smoke, but rather a cinnamon mist.
Apparently when I took my supplements one of the cinnamon capsules got stuck in my throat, where the coating slowly dissolved, leading to my “smoky” belch.
Just thought I share that bit of weirdness.

Context

The context for the previous post.

The Validity Of Your Argument

Mordru on a Jet-Ski.  Your argument is invalid.

Technically, It IS "Later"

Okay, when I said in my last post I would post something later I hadn’t meant this much later, but I kind of got caught up in doing a whole lot of nothing in particular and never got around to writing anything.
Oh well.
When I got up yesterday morning, I fired up the work laptop, connected to my wireless network, logged into the corporate VPN, and got to work. I set the laptop up at my desk, and with the dual monitors of my desktop, it looked like the set up of some movie hacker:


Oddly enough, I didn’t nearly initiate a nuclear war, discover that the world we know is just an advanced computer simulation, or do whatever the hell those idiots in that shitty Hackers movie did. Nor did I hook up with Ally Sheedy, Carrie-Ann Moss, or Angelina Jolie.

After closing up shop for the day I watched a Riff Trax version of the most inexplicable thing I’ve ever seen: 1978’s Star Wars Holiday Special.
If you’ve ever seen it – Riffed or otherwise – you know what I’m talking about when I say WTF?
Art Carney with a shirt open to his navel? Harvey Korman in drag? Bea Arthur singing? Chewbacca’s father (note: “Chewbacca’s” was a recognized word in Word’s dictionary) plugging into some virtual reality masturbation machine and watching Diahann Caroll sing?
It just…I can’t…huh?
I distinctly recall being upset as a kid because I missed the Star Wars Holiday Special. It bothered me for a long time. Now it appears that I dodged a bullet, though recognizing the fact that I would have had the critical faculties of a six year old, I probably would have liked it had I seen it thirty years ago. After all, it was Star Wars, and as a kid I was obsessed with all things Star Wars.
I was five when the movie came out, and I actually missed my chance to see it in 1977. I was supposed to spend a weekend at my grandmother’s house during which my brother Brad was going to take me to see it, but, being five, I had a hard time being parted from my parents and ended up going home.
I actually saw The Empire Strikes Back before I saw the first movie. Randomly, sometime after Empire, a local theater ran the first movie again for a limited time.
In any case, I find myself somewhat surprised that Lucas hasn’t decided to digitally touch up the special and release a new version of it that more closely adheres to his vision for it in a way that 1970’s technology just wouldn’t allow.

Made Of Fail A/V Club: What The F***, Ladies?

The following clip from a recent episode of The Daily Show is funny, but that’s not why I’m posting it. The reason I’m posting it is that there is one element that annoys the hell out of me and leaves me utterly baffled. Watch for yourself and see if you can figure out what I’m talking about:



...
Did you see it? Do you understand?
No?
Okay, I’ll explain it to you. In the “Blue State” segment, featuring a guy who lives – shirtless – in a hut and does his “grocery shopping” in a dumpster, there was one aspect that jumped out at me: he has a girlfriend.
Yes, a man who eats roadkill and uses sour cream recovered from a garbage dumpster – albeit a dumpster that “seldom” has maggots – has a girlfriend, or possibly even a wife.
There’s really only one thing I can say about that: seriously, ladies, what the fuck?
A guy who essentially lives like a seagull has a girlfriend, yet here I am, with access to indoor plumbing and personal hygiene products – which I actually use, and did not acquire from a dumpster – a total loveless loser.
Granted, I’m a geeky weirdo, I’m socially awkward, I’m probably needy and clingy, and, as will be examined in a future post, I’m not much fun at parties, and I probably have a host of other character defects that are not immediately apparent – either to myself or others – but, and I can’t stress this point enough, I don’t eat food that I found in a fucking dumpster.
Maybe it’s not fair of me to use the romantic choices of one woman as an indictment of your entire gender, but I think this case is extreme enough to warrant it.
So, I ask again: What. The. Fuck?
*Sigh* Okay, I’m coming off as bitter and hostile, but honestly, can you blame me? When you’re a gainfully-employed homeowner with prospects for the future, and being romantically involved with you would not, in any way, shape, or form, involve eating animals that have been scraped up off the highway, yet you have worse luck with women than a guy living in a hut in the woods and eating food from dumpsters, I think a little bitterness and hostility is appropriate.
And sure, bitterness and hostility aren’t especially attractive qualities, but seriously, he eats food out of a fucking dumpster. And more to the point, his girlfriend/wife has to do so as well.
Okay, rant over. I think I’ll go get a snack– something I bought at a store– and then maybe take a shower, or make some other liberal use of my indoor plumbing in one of my three (indoor) bathrooms.

Keyword Kraziness: Kreepy Edition

I've gotten a few hits from people looking for nude pictures of Megan Lee Ethridge, the chick with the amazing abs from that couple of really crappy movies I watched recently.
Technically, she is topless in the picture I posted of her to illustrate the tightness of her body, but she's also literally topless, as you can't actually see much of anything above her (amazing) abdomen.
Regardless, you're not going to find any other pictures of her (nude or otherwise) here - unless I do some drawings of her, which I may - because this isn't that sort of site.
There are plenty of sites like that on the Web, though, and they shouldn't be hard to find, or to recognize in the summary provided with the search results.
For the record, I found the pictures I have of her on Usenet. Usenet is older than the Web, yet so few people seem to realize what a resource it is for things like pictures (and pretty much anything else you can imagine). So my advice? Do a search for Usenet, read up on it, and then sign up with Easy News.
If it weren't for Easy News, I probably wouldn't have to be clearing files off my hard drive.
Barring making use of Usenet, though, I would at least recommend that if you're looking for images you actually, oh, I don't know, try an image search.
Like this one. (Hey look: that search leads to nude pictures of Megan Lee Ethridge! Why, using the image search actually provided me with images! Who'd have thunk it?)
Anyway, on with the rest of the search strings (excluding the standard Giada searches) that have been leading people astray (i.e. here) lately:

is there any nude photos of tanya memme?
Not here.

jessica alba nipple grocery
Wait, you can buy Jessica Alba nipples at the grocery store?

herman beeftink
Ah, Herman Beeftink, the man behind the music for most every softcore porn ever aired on Cinemax. It's been so long since I've been treated to your award-losing sounds.

latex catsuit sold in virginia united states
I suspect the seeker is someone who probably shouldn't wear one. Anyway, do you have to actually buy it in Virginia? Can't you just order one, like from this site?

Extra really fucking creepy and disgusting bonus search string:

how to have sex with your mom

And with that, I am officially at a loss for words.

Because I Really Need To Waste Money On New Bed Sheets Right Now

Some time after I got up this morning I noticed this:



I know I can be a rather violent sleeper at times, but how the hell did that happen?

Catch The Madness!

There are certain people whom I know exist simply because some entertainment blog tells me they do, and I have no real reason to doubt them on it. After all, there are significant aspects of life and the world around me that I just don't pay any attention to, so it's unsurprising that I lack any real familiarity with what's current in popular culture.
Thus I am only vaguely aware that there people in the world such as Amy Winehouse, the "stars" of TV shows like The Hills (or even that there are TV shows such as The Hills), the cast of High School Musical (whatever that is), and Lily Allen.
So while I was aware that she existed and that she was apparently a singer or something, and there was something or other to do with MySpace that made the people at the Best Week Ever blog hate her, I was, of course, totally unfamiliar with her work.
Then on Saturday Brian sent me a link to a video by her. He had done so as a WTF? sort of thing, which was pretty much my response, and I'm sure it will be your response as well:

Alfie


I have to admit that it's sort of catchy (and she's very cute), though not necessarily in a good way, and kind of amusing.
I shared the link with Scott, who went on to check out some of her other videos, which led me to do the same. They are also sort of entertaining:

Smile


LDN


I can't say it's anything I would want to listen to on a regular...ever, but the videos are sort of fun in a light, shallow, but ultimately maddening - given their tendency to stick in your head - sort of way.
And so I thought I'd share the madness with you.
You are, of course, welcome.