Speaking of masterfully crafted A&E television programs, I was just watching Intervention, and I noticed that it bleeped out the word "fuck." This guy was in bed, dope sick, and he called someone and said, "I'm sick as--" BLEEP!
They censored it. This show has people sticking needles in any parts of their bodies imaginable, snorting shit off of floors, cleaning syringes with toilet water, prostituting themselves for drug money...but you can't say "fuck?" Or "shit?" Where the fuck are our priorities?! Who, exactly, are we protecting in this equation? If a kid caught an episode by accident, are the curse words really going to be the components of the show that haunt his/her ensuing nightmares? We're so retarded...
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Natural Selection
I was recently watching an episode of one of the best shows on TV, A&E's The First 48, a weekly, hour-long documentary series that covers one or two homicide investigations per episode. It's amazing and educational...especially if you want to learn how to get away with murder, which I think is probably a pretty handy skill to have in a real pinch.
Anyway, the episode I was watching took place in Miami. A neighbor reported that a terrible odor was emanating from a nearby apartment, and when police came to check it out, they found three dead bodies inside the apartment (a husband and wife, both 45, and their daughter, 24), all pretty well decomposed. Homicide detectives were called to the scene, but couldn't seem to find any evidence of a murder. Then they found a note.
Turns out the deceased were fasting, as a family, as part of some religious expression of devout faith, and made a pact that they would stay locked in the apartment and not eat until God provided for them. But alas, God must not have heard them. Yet another missed opportunity for The Big Guy to prove his existence; He's an elusive one, that God fella. As Ricky Gervais has said, "God must have been too busy giving AIDS to babies in Africa" to save these retards from starving themselves to death in a country that's responsible for creating the Big Gulp and the fast-food adjective "Super Size."
I'm gonna go ahead and take the position that the world is better off without these people. Good on ya, Darwin.
Anyway, the episode I was watching took place in Miami. A neighbor reported that a terrible odor was emanating from a nearby apartment, and when police came to check it out, they found three dead bodies inside the apartment (a husband and wife, both 45, and their daughter, 24), all pretty well decomposed. Homicide detectives were called to the scene, but couldn't seem to find any evidence of a murder. Then they found a note.
Turns out the deceased were fasting, as a family, as part of some religious expression of devout faith, and made a pact that they would stay locked in the apartment and not eat until God provided for them. But alas, God must not have heard them. Yet another missed opportunity for The Big Guy to prove his existence; He's an elusive one, that God fella. As Ricky Gervais has said, "God must have been too busy giving AIDS to babies in Africa" to save these retards from starving themselves to death in a country that's responsible for creating the Big Gulp and the fast-food adjective "Super Size."
I'm gonna go ahead and take the position that the world is better off without these people. Good on ya, Darwin.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
Marty McFly Had One, And That Was The 80's!
One of my students and I were laughing about how in every 80's and 90's movie set in the future, people have flying cars, and now that it is the future (according to those movies), people love to ask, "Where are those flying cars we were promised?!" So I'll respond:
A.) You couldn't handle extra-dimensional locomotion even if they did have flying cars, you entitled, never-invented-anything-yourself couch potato. You can't even handle operating an automobile in a planar milieu, so calm yourself about commandeering a jet-propelled motor vehicle. (I think that made sense.)
B.) Oh, wait. They do have flying cars. They're called planes and helicopters. That's what a flying car is. What makes a car a car? Wheels? Planes and helicopters both have those and can drive. The technology exists, we just don't all have personal helicopters, or "flying cars," as you call them, because, in a rare display of common sense, legislators know better than to let that happen (see letter A). Now work on learning how to use a fucking blinker for a change...
A.) You couldn't handle extra-dimensional locomotion even if they did have flying cars, you entitled, never-invented-anything-yourself couch potato. You can't even handle operating an automobile in a planar milieu, so calm yourself about commandeering a jet-propelled motor vehicle. (I think that made sense.)
B.) Oh, wait. They do have flying cars. They're called planes and helicopters. That's what a flying car is. What makes a car a car? Wheels? Planes and helicopters both have those and can drive. The technology exists, we just don't all have personal helicopters, or "flying cars," as you call them, because, in a rare display of common sense, legislators know better than to let that happen (see letter A). Now work on learning how to use a fucking blinker for a change...
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Misallocation of Resources
Wanna know the definition of "wasting time?" Hitting on a woman who's shopping in the men's boxers section...
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Food Photography
Speaking of food... You know how white people make fun of Asians for photographing their food? Do you think Asians make fun of us for not doing that? Just a thought.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Foodies
Ever watch those "foodie" shows, like Top Chef (which I love), for instance? I really hate it when chefs describe any elements of their own dishes with unnecessarily florid, self-slurping verbiage. Like, when you say, "...drizzled with a beautiful balsamic-fig reduction," or "topped with a lovely bacon foam..." that makes me feel like you're overcompensating for shittiness. I, the diner, will decide if it's "beautiful" or "lovely" or "nice," not you. Just say the ingredients and fuck off. I'll take it from there, thank you.
P.S. - I still really want to bang Padma.
P.S. - I still really want to bang Padma.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Further Evidence of My Aging
2. I pulled my hamstring in my sleep the other night.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Friends
So some of my friends have begun blogs, and I thought I'd be a good friend to them, as well as helpful to yous, my readers, by sharing their links here. Might not be for everyone, but options are always nice . . . except when you become so overwhelmed by all the stuff you want to see that it leads to complete paralysis and the sweet release of death seems like the only real option left! . . . Then they're not so nice, I guess. Here you go anyway:
1. Sports: Here's how my friend describes it: "A few friends and I utilize self-deprecating humor and esoteric sports knowledge to keep people in the know in the weirdest way possible." - http://manualbuzzer.blogspot.com/
2. Trendy Hipster Walks in Brooklyn: Self-explanatory - http://30walksinbrooklyn.wordpress.com/
3. Girl Talk: Not the cooool mash-up masters that everyone loves to love, but a girl...talking...about guys and shit - http://hesthatguy.net/
4. T-shirts: Some of my friends are even minorities! This particular fella has chosen to embrace his Border roots and produce cutesy Spanglish T-shirts for your amusement (and money). There are just a few up now, but more to come soon: http://www.realtimetshirts.com/ . . . He also has a personal blog, in case you're curious (http://www.ingonzwetrust.com/)
[The Curmudgeon does not necessarily endorse the opinions purveyed in the above online publications (unless they're funny). He is merely choosing to help his friends because he is a selfless angel from Heaven.]
1. Sports: Here's how my friend describes it: "A few friends and I utilize self-deprecating humor and esoteric sports knowledge to keep people in the know in the weirdest way possible." - http://manualbuzzer.blogspot.com/
2. Trendy Hipster Walks in Brooklyn: Self-explanatory - http://30walksinbrooklyn.wordpress.com/
3. Girl Talk: Not the cooool mash-up masters that everyone loves to love, but a girl...talking...about guys and shit - http://hesthatguy.net/
4. T-shirts: Some of my friends are even minorities! This particular fella has chosen to embrace his Border roots and produce cutesy Spanglish T-shirts for your amusement (and money). There are just a few up now, but more to come soon: http://www.realtimetshirts.com/ . . . He also has a personal blog, in case you're curious (http://www.ingonzwetrust.com/)
[The Curmudgeon does not necessarily endorse the opinions purveyed in the above online publications (unless they're funny). He is merely choosing to help his friends because he is a selfless angel from Heaven.]
Friday, January 21, 2011
ACCENTuate The Positive...Or Negative. Whatever.
Accents are amplifiers. What I mean by that is, if you're hot, an accent (Southern, British, Columbian...pretty much every accent except a Russian one) makes you so much hotter! Think about when you meet a cute girl with an accent and you tell your friends about her. Her accent is one of the first things you mention: "Dude, she has this super hot Tanzanian accent!" Buuut...if someone's ugly and annoying, an accent makes them even more unbearable: "OMG, he sounds like Sling Blade."
So you see, accents are amplifiers. Whatever you are...it makes you more that.
So you see, accents are amplifiers. Whatever you are...it makes you more that.
RepHresh
I may actually have already posted this commercial a while back, but they've recently begun playing it again on TV, and I just love it so. Probably my favorite commerical of all time. The alluring looks, the awkward dancing, the script... Oh, and it was the perfect excuse to flex my artistic muscles. Enjoy:
(Shout out to my boy, Mimsies, who appreciates this gem as much as I do. Is it weird that it always makes me think of him?)
(Shout out to my boy, Mimsies, who appreciates this gem as much as I do. Is it weird that it always makes me think of him?)
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Retardatarius
The best part about this whole astrological, horoscope realignment is that all the retards who had their zodiac signs tattooed onto their flesh can finally feel as stupid as they actually are...
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Animal Crap-House
I'm gonna go ahead and say it: Animal House isn't that funny. Sorry. If you wear a Belushi "College" T-shirt, I probably hate you because you're annoying and have a bad sense of humor.
What the hell? While I'm already alienating lots of people, I'll go ahead and add that Dazed and Confused is also not very good. Again, my apologies...only not really.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Sorry, What Was That?
Just so you know, if ever you're talking to me, and there's a string of saliva connecting your upper and lower lips...I'm not hearin' a word you're sayin'...
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Busted Rhymes
Look, plaster a gruesome picture of a horribly mangled, run-over child to the speed limit sign, and I'll respect your commitment to the cause, a noble one (even if most of them will grow up to be giant, resource-sapping retards), but this base appeal has the complete opposite effect on me (just like every not-going-to-appeal-to-any-kid-ever, tax-payers'-hard-earned-money-wasting, utterly idiotic anti-drug PSA ever made). It actually makes me want to kill kids with my car, just so the powers that be know their stupid fucking rhymes aren't working. Same with "click it or ticket" and "arrive alive, don't drink and drive." Those make me want to do the opposite, even to my own detriment.
Hence, if you need a rhyme to teach you common sense, then you're dense...
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Locker Rooms
Old people abuse this. They shuffle their droopy beanbags over to the urinals, where they stand, barefoot!, in puddles of other people's piss, and just fart and hock up gross chunks of phlegm and spit them past their floppy wieners... It's disgusting. Naked farts are disgusting. Then, you sit on that wooden bench in between the lockers, bending over to try and tie your basketball sneakers, and these guys unflinchingly put one leg up on the bench, right next to you, and dry their balls, right in your face! This is not okay! We're in America! There are personal-space heuristics in place that they are flagrantly violating!
The entire locker room experience is unpleasant enough. The smells...chlorine, body odor, cheap spray deodorant...please don't add to this unnecessarily...
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Should I Hold Your Hand, Too?
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
How To Bat A Thousand...
Do the math...
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Carry This
Thursday, January 6, 2011
You Have Boring Friends
I was at a house party a while back, and I was talking to some guy (heeeyyyy...) while getting wine out of the kitchen. He recommended one of the red wines, and I said, "Oh, I don't drink room-temperature liquids." He laughed and said, "That's weird. I've never heard anyone say something like that."
My first thought was, "Really?"
My second thought was, "If you though that was odd, stay close by; I'll probably do better than that in the next five minutes..."
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Don't Be A Jackass
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