Carolyn Hax: "Sometimes surrendering to the awful is more useful than fighting it."
Graham Joyce: "why can’t our job here on earth be simply to inspire each other?"
Dan Harmon: "I believe in magic. I believe in mythology. I believe in shamanism. I believe that spells can be cast and I believe that random things coalesce and reveal themselves to be part of a plan we don’t control, you know."
Nora Ephron: "Never turn down a front-row seat for human folly."
Lord Vetinari, Unseen Academicals: "One day I was a young boy... when I saw a mother otter with her cubs. Even as I watched, the mother otter dived into the water and came up with a plump salmon, which she subdued... As she ate it, while of course it was still alive, the body split and the pink roes spilled out much to the delight of the baby otters. Mother and children dining upon mother and children. And that is when I first learned about evil. It is built into the very nature of the universe. Every world spins in pain. If there is any kind of supreme being, it is up to all of us to become his moral superior."
McAlvie "The ultimate downfall of modern civilization won't be war; it'll be Twitter and Facebook."
Jenny Zhang: "A lot of writers swear by routine, but I swear by chaos. There’s enough fucking routine in my life. Every day I have to brush my teeth. Every day I have to smile at strangers. Every day I have to worry about money. Every day I want something I can’t have. Every day I find some way to go on! I know that writing every day for an hour would help me tremendously with writer’s block, but I also know that I need an element of wildness in my writing. I need to know that writing is something I do because it sets me free. It makes me feel golden with confidence. It gives me the gift of gab. I feel like a god. I feel like an entertainer. So write when you damn well please."
Joe Queenan: "If you have read 6,000 books in your lifetime, or even 600, it's probably because at some level you find "reality" a bit of a disappointment. People in the 19th century fell in love with "Ivanhoe" and "The Count of Monte Cristo" because they loathed the age they were living through. Women in our own era read "Pride and Prejudice" and "Jane Eyre" and even "The Bridges of Madison County"—a dimwit, hayseed reworking of "Madame Bovary"—because they imagine how much happier they would be if their husbands did not spend quite so much time with their drunken, illiterate golf buddies down at Myrtle Beach. A blind bigamist nobleman with a ruined castle and an insane, incinerated first wife beats those losers any day of the week. Blind, two-timing noblemen never wear belted shorts."
LogicalDash: "Nobody of any age should have to fend off sexual partners. That such defense is assumed as a part of the cost of adult courtship is suggestive of some more fundamental problem than age difference and its effect on consensuality."
Keith Richards: "I had to invent the job, you know," he said, earlier. "There wasn't a sign in the shop window, saying, "Wanted: Keith Richards."
Caitlin Moran: "As I started to reassess my writing style, I thought about what I liked doing--what gave me satisfaction--and realized the primary one was just... pointing at things. Pointing out things I liked, and showing them to other people--like a mum shouting, "Look! Moo-cows!" as a train rushes past a farm. I liked pointing at things, and I liked being reasonable and polite about stuff. Or silly. Silly was very, very good. No one ever got hurt by silly.
Best of all was being pointedly silly about serious things: politics, repression, bigotry. Too many commentators are quick to accuse their enemies of being evil. It's far, far more effective to point out that they're acting like idiots, instead. I was up for idiot-revealing.
"I am just going to be polite and silly, and point at cool things," I decided. "When I started writing, I would have killed to have one thing to write about. Now, I have three. Politeness and silliness, and pointing. That's enough."
Carolyn Hax: "Unless 15 years’ worth of mail has misled me, no one has ever found love through complaining about the lack of it, and no lonely person has ever felt better for hearing, “You just haven’t found the right person yet.”
David Simon: "Change is a motherfucker when you run from it."
Joe Queenan: "People who read an enormous number of books are basically dissatisfied with the way things are going on this planet. And I think, in a way, people read for the same reason that kids play video games ... they like that world better. It works better, it's more exciting, and it usually has a more satisfactory ending."
Dan Savage: "There isn't someone for everyone. Some of us do wind up alone, and that just fucking sucks and sometimes that stings, and you don't know if you're one of those people who's going to wind up alone until you die alone....So you kind of have to live in hope and build a life for yourself that's rewarding and fun, has friends and pleasure in it, whether you're alone or not."
the painkiller: "I will not be tagged, pinned, circled, liked, tweeted, retweeted or numbered."
Steve Jobs: "Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.
Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”
Apple: "Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do."
Miss Manners: "Please do not -- repeat, not -- make a hostile approach to knitters. Have you not noticed that they are armed with long, pointy sticks?"
Stephen Tobolowsky: "And of course, nothing is what I figured on in my life. That seems to be a recurring theme."
James Bulls: "When you find yourself walking a true path, you will know it because you will want to walk it no matter the burning Sun, freezing sleet, torrential rain, and treacherous ground. The risks become no less and the journey as always exhausts you, but your desire to brave the challenges never diminishes."
Amy Argetsinger: "Twitter is a disease, plain and simple. It makes people insane. A decade from now I expect the CDC and FDA will be issuing warnings."
Cary Tennis: "You don't have to "move on" either. Not until you're ready. People say, Oh, you should be grateful. They say, Oh, it's time for you to move on. I'm like, What are you, a cop with a nightstick? I'll move on when I'm done playing the blues on my harmonica, thank you very much."
Mark Morford: "It is 2011 and here is what we know: Reality is fluid, fact is malleable, cause and effect completely uncertain. We know what we don't know, but we also know the opposite."
Charlie Jane Anders: "Just remember, if you flinch from your destiny, you'll never achieve your true greatness — you didn't choose to be chosen, but being chosen means you have to choose."
Roger Ebert: "To put it bluntly, I believe the world is patriarchal because men are bigger and stronger than women, and can beat them up."
Myca: "Jesus is not the reason for the season, and there's no way I need to act like he is. Christmas is a stolen tradition. There's no reason we can't steal it back."
Lady Gaga: "I hate the holidays! I'm alone and miserable, you fucking dumb bit of toy!"
Dianna Agron: "I am trying to live my life with a sharpie marker approach. You can’t erase the strokes you’ve made, but each step is much bolder and more deliberate."
John Mayer: "It occurred to me that since the invocation of Twitter, nobody who has participated in it has created any lasting art. And yes! Yours truly is included in that roundup as well. Let me make sure that statement is as absolute and irrevocable as possible by buzzing your tower one more time: no artwork created by someone with a healthy grasp of social media thus far has proven to be anything other than disposable."
Vanessa, Something Positive: "I like 'em crazy. You hear insane rants, I hear a reminder that the sex is interesting. Oooh! Hear that? Tonight's gonna tingle."
Anonymous: “Your problem is that you want to be an artist. What you need to be is an artisan.”
Sugar: "Ask better questions, sweet pea. The fuck is your life. Answer it."
Wide Lawns: "Often very odd things happen to me. Usually they are not my fault and mostly beyond my control."
Anonymous reporter: “When weird shit happens around here, weird shit really happens around here.”
Anne Johnson: "Today some stranger sent me an email that said, "You are a nut case." Well, I must admit this never would have occurred to me. Everyone else is a nut case. I'm the sane one. I think."
Carl Mayer: "Whenever I start to feel like my life isn’t where I want it to be, “Cops” is there to put everything into perspective. Yeah, I haven’t made all the right moves over the last 34 years, but I’m not hiding from the police under a kiddie pool, either."
John Scalzi: "In retrospect, it’s a little weird to think that my entire future was falling into place as I obliviously tucked into the El Presidente chimichanga platter, but of course, that’s life for you — the most important days of your existence don’t always announce themselves in obvious ways."
Tart and Soul: "Indeed, love comes whether we have braced ourselves for it or not. But commitment offers a choice, tapping us on the shoulder to say, “sorry to bother you. Is this a good time?”
"Shunned by her family and village after she is raped, she takes refuge in the jungle and is stalked by a tiger. Parvati, a Hindu goddess, comes to her aid and grants her special powers that include fearlessness and a magical mantra that she uses to change people's minds.
"Faced with the same scenario, I too would choose against antibiotics but in my heart I know that one of my sisters could well be the daughter in Perkins’s example, even though my sisters sat in the attorney’s office when my mother named me as her healthcare proxy and neither of them objected. I could be faced with honouring my mother and destroying my relationship with my sister, who might find she cannot let my mother go."
“I don’t think the elf is a conspiracy and I realize we’re talking about a toy,” Pinto told The Post. “It sounds humorous, but we argue that if a kid is okay with this bureaucratic elf spying on them in their home, it normalizes the idea of surveillance and in the future restrictions on our privacy might be more easily accepted.”(Washington Post)
I agree...but really, isn't it too late now? Because that shit has already happened?
"Let’s postpone Christmas. Not just this year, but every year. Christmas should be in early February, not the end of December.
This may sound crazy, but delaying Christmas makes sense for a lot of practical and emotional reasons. As it stands, Christmas occurs far too soon after Thanksgiving. Four weeks, give or take, is not nearly enough time to recover from the culinary excess and psychological stress of Thanksgiving before having another almost identical meal with your crazy, lovable family. I appreciate stuffing, mashed potatoes, and pie as much as the next person, but I could stand to have a little more downtime between the Thanksgiving feast and Christmas dinner.
There’s also the fact that both Thanksgiving and Christmas put a serious dent in your bank account. There are plane tickets, holiday apparel, and heritage-breed turkeys to buy—and that’s before you even start thinking about your darling children’s wish lists for Santa. December is the month when my budget is most likely to dive into deep red territory, and I suspect I am not alone in my financial disequilibrium. Wouldn’t it be nice to have more pay periods between Thanksgiving and Christmas? And wouldn’t it be extra-nice to receive your end-of-year bonus before doing your Christmas shopping, instead of crossing your fingers that it’ll all even out in the end?
The problem is that meteorologically, things tend to go dramatically downhill after Christmas: With our current system, winter consists of a few weeks of jollity and cheer, followed by two to three months of darkness, chill, and bleakness. There is nothing to look forward to after Dec. 25 except for spring—and spring is months away. This is totally backward. The Christmas spirit ought to help us get through the darkest, iciest months of the year, rather than being abruptly extinguished right before the forecast gets really gloomy. Extending the Christmas season would mitigate the winter blues that afflict millions of people.
"I can’t lie. I haven’t always been happy with Koenig’s reporting, with her not drawing hard and fast conclusions about issues and people. I wanted Koenig’s judgement, but in most cases she refused, or wasn’t able, to give it. I wanted her to be an advocate for Adnan, but she couldn’t be. I understood why, but I hoped otherwise.
It was not a punch to the gut, necessarily, but a quiet closing of a chapter that I had held open for 15 years. In the midst of the enormous coverage of the case and show, of hearty congratulations for staying on it, of lots of movement by the different teams of lawyers now working to help Adnan, I felt like a failure.
It never seemed like a possibility that the only thing digging deep would do is bring up more mud, cloud up the air further. A single point of clarity is what I hoped for, and that eluded me. It eluded Koenig."
"Be a “time pessimist.” I love this phrase, which appeared in a 2007 blog post by career mentor Penelope Trunk. Sometimes people who consistently run late fall into the trap of just one more thing: Just one more email, one more errand, one more household chore before heading to the time-sensitive event. We really believe there’s enough time to get it all done, but — according to research — we have no business making estimations concerning time. “Assume everything will take a little longer than your first estimate,” Trunk advised.
It’s particularly important advice for chronically late people, because there’s some evidence they are simply worse at accurately gauging the passage of time than punctual people. I
Wear a wristwatch. Relying on your phone tocheck the time can easily lead to distractions, mostly of the social variety, like texts and Twitter notifications."
"I just talked to Amy an hour ago. She wants to put that movie out. What do I do? My partner Grant Heslov and I had the conversation with her this morning. Bryan and I had the conversation with her last night. Stick it online. Do whatever you can to get this movie out. Not because everybody has to see the movie, but because I’m not going to be told we can’t see the movie. That’s the most important part. We cannot be told we can’t see something by Kim Jong-un, of all f*cking people."
Continued disc-watching from here. More of season 15:
You're Getting Old
Bass to Mouth
Butters is delivering the news of a new sushi restaurant. Uh-oh, I wouldn't tell the guy at City Wok.
OH NO YOU DIDN'T.
Pronuncing "city" as "shitty" somehow never gets old for me. I know I'm terrible.
Now they're cussing each other and claiming the other can't talk.
"There's an Asian turf war here, sir, and your son seems to have caused it."
Of course he's grounded and blamed for it.
"What is wrong with that boy?" "I don't know, but it's clear it isn't our parenting! We're awesome!"--The Stotches.
At the Center for Criminally Insane Children: Butters has MPD. What?
"One is named Postman Butters." There's also Fireman Butters and Inspector Butters and Professor Chaos. Sometimes he's a cowboy, other times he's an Indian....
"Should we ground him?"
"What your son needs is lots of tender loving medication. Heavy medication."
There's now a "booming Asian district," named Little Tokyo. Asian Turf War, Round 2 ensues. Can't blame it on Butters this time.
Cut to Butters playing long distance trucker. Did someone show him Smokey and the Bandit? "OH GOD, THE MEDICATION ISN'T WORKING!"
"Oh, hey, Dad." "HE'S BAAAAAAACK! I LOVE YOU, SON!"
We need a treaty. Or a tweety. Or a tweedy. Who knows what they're saying. City Wok guy suggests putting on an assembly at school to explain the difference between Asians.
"NO, TERIYAKI NOT FROM A FUCKING CHINA!"
There's also Big Rig Butters.
"Does Professor Chaos want to murder Butters?" "No, why would I want to do that?"
Of course Dr. Janos has two personalities. OF COURSE.
Now Butters has become a bed wetter out of stress.
As he watches the secret camera he left on himself...."Dr. Janos?" WHO PEES ON HIM. AND PUNCHES HIM IN THE FACE A LOT. OH FUCK THIS IS WRONG.
Asian Diversity Assembly!
Dance number ensues!
"Did you know China and Japan are different countries!" Let's look at a map.
City Wok guy claims the Japanese are always trying to take over China and have a high suicide rate. So that's going well.
"Did you catch something?" "Well, yeah I saw you pissing on my face."
"Oh, so you're on to me, you little shit." UH-OH.
He's been using MPD as a scam for seven years. He also forces Butters to rob a jewelry store?
Butters is now being set up for a robbery. Damn.
"Oh, we'll ground the shit out of him, detective, thank you so much."
"I fucked you at assembly." He admits it. It was a little sneaky, or stinky, or both.
Now let's have an Asian Diversity Festival. "Against my better judgment, I will trust you one more time." Just don't rub your hands together--UH-OH HE DID IT AGAIN.
Butters is setting his costumes on fire. "No more Porn Star Butters." But before he can throw out Professor Chaos....here comes Janos on a trike. Playing totally fucking insane MPD guy.
Welp, this is fucked up.
Little Tokyo Asian Diversity Day. Both Chinese guys have gone all out to build a Tower of Peace to symbolize peace between the two restaruants.
Uh-oh, he wants the Japanese guy to go to the top of the tower... DON'T DO IT, MR. TAKIYAMA! (Or, uh, whatever it is.)
Poor Butters is so fucking traumatized by this stalker creepy dude.
And...Dr. Janos actually does have MPD because he's somehow City Wok Guy. WHAT. With a stalker wall of hate in the house for City Sushi.
Butters called the police before murder could occur.
"He's not Chinese, he's white."
Ouch, City Sushi guy did get thrown off the tower. Nasty.
We would never have known if not for Inspector Butters. Everyone at the police station applauds!
"Does the world really need another therapist?" Can't we just let him think he's Lu Kim forever? He's the only Asian food left in town. Okay!
You're Getting Old:
So I've heard this is the most depressing South Park ever? Oh joy. Can't fucking wait. Is it worse than half head Britney being sacrificed for the harvest?
Stan is now 10 years old! Happy birthday!
Why does Cartman get a present?
God, I'm a spoiled brat (I admit it), but Ms. Cartman is putting me to shame here.
Stan's not allowed to listen to tween bands? Does that mean Cartman loses a gift?
Sharon hates "tween wave."
Oh no, now we're the old people complaining about music.
Randy's still cool! He will listen to tween wave! (Foreshadowing for Lorde?)
Oh, it's just a bunch of farts with a beat attached.
Parents are stupid, yo.
All the parents won't let the kids listen to tween wave. And Randy, who's pouting.
"It doesn't sound that way to us," Stan says. OH, THAT'S INTERESTING, WHAT DOES IT SOUND LIKE TO THEM?
Gerald puts on The Police. Fart sounds emerge. HEY, WAIT A MINUTE.
Stan puts on tween wave on his iPod in bed. Then it starts to sound like farting! He seems disturbed.
The other kids are listening to their iPods while waiting for the bus. OH, POOR STAN. NOW HE IS GETTING OLD.
"It sounds like somebody is SHITTING in my EARS."
Stan no longer likes Pop Rocks either.
The doctor plays him some Bob Dylan. That sounds like shit too.
"It's a condition called "being a cynical asshole." There's no cure, I"m afraid."
Randy's playing some tween wave. And farting into the microphone.
"Fella calls himself Steamy Ray Vaughn." He just shits his britches.
Stan no longer enjoys video games either. Or ice cream. YOU'RE JUST SAD, DUDE. Also, stop ordering chocolate.
"I never seen britches take a whuppin' like that."
Randy has fished Stevie Nicks off the Internet. Er, Steamy Nicks.
"A little young, aren't you, to be so pessimistic, kid?"
And here come his friends, not sick, walking down the street.
Stan, you're a bummer to be around, so we don't want to take you to the movies.
Stan promises not to complain. They go to X-Men: First Class. Here comes a trailer for the Jack and Jill movie.
It just keeps being bad from there. I am trying not to look at all of the diarrhea on the screen. WHEN WILL I LEARN TO STOP EATING WHILE WATCHING SOUTH PARK?
Those two old coots are now obsessed with "saving his britches."
Sharon is sick of Randy's trying to get famous.
Oh, now this is just getting sad. Okay, not "for the harvest" sad, but pretty sad.
OH GOD, THIS HAS NOW BECOME MY LIFE. Every week is the same story, just more and more ridiculous.
Also, Sharon and Randy are sick of each other.
"Landslide" plays. Stan sulks at Stark's Pond, unable to see anything but poo. Sharon packs her shit to move out. Randy has an uncomfortable talk.
The house is for sale. Randy drives a truck and moves away. Stan unpacks. He sits alone on a swing. The sun is poo.
Okay, this still makes me want to drink. And I actually had a pretty good day at work.
Well, at least Kyle and Cartman are still happy and gaming. Where's Kenny?
....Yeah. Still second saddest South Park ever, though. No heads were blown off at least.
For the record, on the commentary, Trey and Matt are basically all, "no, we're not quitting or depressed."
Ugh, the "everything is shit" theme is continuing. Joy.
Cartman thinks he's getting vaccinated for HPV.
Ass burgers? There's a disease called that? (He means Asperger's)
Who's the new bus guy? He's so quiet.
Girls get shots and boys get recess. Story of our lives.
Meanwhile, the remaining kids in the gang got caught playing hooky. Stan doesn't give a shit at all and starts screaming.
In to see Mr. Mackey. Wait, the Marshes are divorced AGAIN?
"That's called being a Debbie Downer, Stan. And nobody likes a Debbie Downer, mmkay?"
"I just want everything to go back to the way it was."
"How do you go on when nothing makes you happy?" That just went too far for Mr. Mackey's sklls. He blames it on vaccinatons. It's Ass Burgers!
Now Stan and Randy are in a press conference. Randy blames shots on his divorce. "Stan's Bill" puts an end to school vaccinations.
Cartman goes to the nurse for...a proctology examination. "Why are there hamburgers in your underwear?" "You're saying I have ass burgers?"
Cartman's shooting for a lawsuit. "Get out of my office."
Kyle is writing Stan off for being too depressing. He's going to embrace the next few thing with a positive attitude.
That turns out to be Cartman's ass burgers. OH NO.
That guy is blowing bubbles out his....OH NO.
And another guy pees on him.
"Unfortunately, because of it's name, people think it's a disease to make fun of."
Now that we're clear, everyone grab their guns! Ass Burgers isn't a real illness, it's just a plot to deal with the big war to bring it all down!
It's THE MATRIX! You see everything as shit, don't you? Well, this episode just got better.
Cartman Burgers for sale! "How about those patties, Jew?" "Another three minutes, fatass!"
Kyle, you don't want to know what's in the secret sauce.
THE MATRIX. They are the Secret Society of Cynics. You're seeing the world the way it actually is. Aliens put out a brain wave making people see a false reality--or robots from the future, whichever.
The world is lovely again! Jack and Jill is funny to Stan!
Stan hugs Kyle and apologizes.
"I"m with Cartman Burger now."
"Kyle, I love you! You're a piece of shit now, fuck you! I love you."
The world still sucks. Poor Stan. Time to take up heroin or something.
Stan is pumped through of Jameson's.
The fast food companies are mad at Cartman Burgers.
Somehow all of the fast food he eats is being infused into a gas and being infused into the burgers! But how!
Stan breaks in, shoots things, and throws up.
"Kyle, you gotta tell me the secret to Cartman Burger." Or else I'll get shot in the head.
"No, because there's aliens with a sniper chicken on me."
"You said fuck you to my face, Stan." "I didn't realize what I was saying."
The Society comes in and shoots everyone. Nice work, Stan. Now you have to take out Duck President.
Stan is done with Jameson's.
Stan DOESN'T want everything to go back to the way it was! Much to his shock. Stan suddenly accepts change.
Randy and Sharon are getting back together again! Surprise!
"People get older, Stanley." The best thing to do is to stick with what you know.
"Landslide" plays again as everyone moves back in.
"YOU WERE STICKING THESE IN YOUR ASS, CARTMAN?!"
Randy burns his records. Stan is still depressed. The other kids want to see Zookeeper 2. Stan is coming. With Jameson's.
Third most depressing episode ever. Someone get Trey Parker a lot of Jameson's.
Well, at least I've already seen Meheecans, so I know they get out of THIS funk.
Bass to Mouth:
That blind kid (Pete Melman) crapped his pants during social studies! Cartman knows because it is all over Eavesdropper, a website about school gossip.
"And a clean pair of socks."
Cartman brainstorms nicknames for that poor kid. And is immediately called to the principal's office.
The previous pants-crapper killed himself, THANKS TO ERIC.
"He was basically dead the second he crapped his pants!"
Oh no, they're gonna force Eric to keep Pete Melman alive. They'll make it worth his while.
Is Cartman asking a girl out? That's not going well. Also, weird.
OH NO, YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE EATEN "HIS MOM'S" CUPCAKES.
Oh, this is going to be a terrible episode.
Cartman makes it "way worse than Pete Melman." She jumped off the roof and is on suicide watch.
Hey, you didn't say I couldn't make someone else kill themselves! You missed the point, Eric!
"Nobody can be made fun of for crapping their pants and nobody can die?" "YES."
Cartman suggests that EVERYONE craps their pants, and then nobody's singled out, problem solved.
"Well, if you have a better idea, why am I here?" OH NO, THEY'RE GOING FOR IT.
Stan claims he wouldn't care about showing up on Eavesdropper. Yeah, right. Then someone reads his e-mail to Kenny.
"You like looking at girls' buttcracks, Stan?" Kenny: "I'm getting out of here."
"Especially when they're writing about your boyfriend's addiction to crack."
They track down who's doing it. It's....some rat with a microphone.
Its name is WikiLeaks.
Oh, Lemmiwinks. LEMMIWINKS! FROM THE ASS QUEST EPISODE! New quest for you! Go after your brother!
He's a blonde hacker.
Stop your brother of doom!
Two girls confess secrets to each other as the rat runs to a computer. Their moms are vicious drunks!
"No, Wikileaks! Bad!"
You sure this will work, Eric?
Selena Gomez is here! "I'm sorry about this, Ms. Gomez." They beat her up and throw her out. "Okay, Eric, you got what you wanted."
Stop that rat!
Lemmiwinks is at home in his wheel. He should probably get going on his destiny now.
Here comes Cattatifsh, appearing to the children. What? There is only one thing that can stop Wikileaks, but Lemmiwinks must be freed first. "Our class gerbil?"
"He does it purely for reasons of evil."
"He posted that I had sex with an underage fish, and made her perform bass to mouth."
"If she wants to do bass to mouth, how is it my fault?"
"Did I say ass to trout? I guess it's basically the same thing."
"All we were doing was trying to keep our students from killing themselves. We're not bad."
"If there's anything we've learned here, it's that the only thing that makes a juicy story go away is another juicy story."
Let's throw Cartman under the bus! LITERALLY! He'll be such a roadblock.
"Hey! What are you doing with my gerbil!"
I"m glad to see that Trey and Matt are having fun and making up bizarre songs again.
Eric is literally thrown under their bus. "Oh god, oh god, he killed himself!"
"Oh wait, here's a suicide note. Dear Guys, I just cannot go on mkay. I'm tired of being FAT, mkay, and I have to end it all. Mkay. Eric Cartman." That's not suspicious at all, mkay?
Just as Wikleaks is posting about the poison... here comes his brother. They run around.
"Oh, sure, he is fucking him UP."
Lemmiwinks killed him!
"Okay, let's just delete all this tabloid garbage." Mmkay.
Cartman's still alive and has broken limbs.
"It's okay, Mr. Mackey, I'm totally over it."
"It was a totally generous move to give all the faculty those cupcakes."
"I put a lot of Arby's horsy sauce on those."
"Thanks to you, private lives will stay private." How does it feel to have killed your own brother, Lemmiwinks? He doesn't answer. "He's devastated."
For the record: I have two episodes from season 15, seven from season 16, and one from season 17 to go. Only ten left! Sadly, I won't get them done in 2014 because I can't watch these around relatives, but oh well.
However, this study has limitations. One of the weaknesses is the retrospective nature of the data collection. One alternative explanation for the marked sex difference in Darwin Award winners is that there is some kind of selection bias. Women may be more likely to nominate men for a Darwin Award, or there may be some selection bias within the Darwin Awards Committee. In addition, there may be some kind of reporting bias. Idiotic male candidates may be more newsworthy than idiotic female Darwin Award candidates."
"What's most telling about Kim Jong-un's regime--a mind-controlling, monolithic dictatorship beyond the wildest dreams of Joseph Stalin or Mao--isn't that it was furious at a Hollywood film. It's which film.
It wasn't Olympus Has Fallen, the cruel action flick with three Oscar nominees in its cast.
Here's why the North Korean government didn't mind Olympus Has Fallen: It made them look capable of blowing up the White House. By contrast, The Interview dares joke that Kim Jong-un--gasp!--is scared to drink margaritas because his dad, Kim Jong-il, convinced him they were "gay."
Fear is fine. But humiliation means war.
In response to the Korean Central News Agency threats, Rogen tweeted, "Apparently Kim Jong Un plans on watching The Interview. I hope he likes it!!"
Does he really?
"I don't know; he probably will hate it because it literally has a goal to debase him and humiliate him," Rogen says.
But at least The Interview does so with a smile. As Randall Park plays him, Kim Jong-un is, well, adorable. At least at first."
"Additionally, in the weekly meetings we are currently listening to 10-minute presentations prepared by employees about their “river of life.” This is a PowerPoint presentation prepared with personal photos and sharing of personal (sometimes VERY personal) information. Most of the employees really get into it and share about losing people in their lives, illnesses, etc. My turn is is coming up and I have absolutely no desire to share personal information with the other employees. Additionally, I am already working 80 hours a week and I frankly resent the idea that I have to spend any time preparing a presentation with personal photos, which has nothing to do with my work and job performance. Is there any way I can get out of this without insulting my boss or my teammates?"
I did really enjoy some people's suggestions as to what to do instead....
“Four score and seven years ago, I sprang fully formed from Zeus’s forehead after his drunken bender left him with a wicked headache…”
I’d totally fill my presentation with the most inane pointless factoids.
“Here’s the ‘A’ I got on my 5th grade science test.” “This is what my dad got me for my 23rd birthday.” “Here was the combo to my old gym locker.” “Here’s my recipe for Campbell’s soup. Step one: Get can of soup. Step two: Open (with a can opener) and empty into pot. Step three: Heat up. Step four: Enjoy with a spoon (in a bowl if you prefer).”
“Here was the combo to my old gym locker.” 23-3-29!
I’d go all “Secret Life of Walter Mitty” and photoshop myself into obviously-famous adventure photos.
My kids are under direct orders that when I die to fill my eulogy with amazing tales of my accomplishments. My Turing award, the year I won the Nobel prize was the same time my career as a super model took off…I want to be fabulous and the truth is not appreciated.
Do you have a pet? Can you just show pictures of them? That would fill up 10 minutes for me.
If you don’t have a pet can you make up a fake pet and do 10 minutes of pretend facts about your pretend pet?
I’m not going to lie: I’d at once resent the hell out of this project and think of so many awesome things to do with it.
My dept just finished this exercise for our boss’s boss. I didnt want to participate for the same reasons as the OP so my presentation was full trivial details and work related stuff (past positions and two photos of a painting i made and my bike, trivial stuff like “I go to the gym 3x/wk” “I like my bike commute”. ) My boss actually reviewed the file before i presented it and askes why I didn’t post a pic of my husband and why I didn’t share details like where I grew up, etc. I didnt change my presentation, and maybe it will be held against me, but it took 3 hours for our whole dept to run through all of the slides and you could tell Big Boss was just as annoyed with it as the rest of us by the end. I doubt we’ll be doing this again anytime soon!
One way you can make this work is to tell ONE INTERESTING STORY for ten minutes, and bracket it with light biographical details to fulfill the whole life-river thing. Like, “I was born in England, but moved to Texas when I was five. While I was in college in Connecticut, my family moved to Seattle, and when I left school I moved here to live with them. Here is the hilarious story of the second time I filled my mouth up with superglue. Now I work here with all you people.”
I worry that I talk too much about my cats, so I’d go with this and actually try to make everyone die of boredom during my presentation. Maybe mess with them a bit, with one cat slide introduced with,”When I was being deprogrammed after my parents abducted me from the cult, I fostered this little guy…”
I've said before that I think Ask Polly is the new Dear Sugar. In this column, she REALLY does a comparison.
"On the same day that Dear Sugar column was published, June 3, 2010, I also answered an advice letter — on my blog. The 2,388-word letter also asked some big existential "WTF?"-style questions. My reply was 2,880 words long, for a total of 5,268 words.
Dear Sugar's column that day in June — letter and response — totaled 871 words. This included the story of being molested by her grandfather, losing her mother, mercy-killing a baby bird with a broken neck, and the bold but still gentle admonition to the letter writer to "ask better questions." Also, this: "The fuck is your life. Answer it."
My blog post, on the other hand, strikes me now as a rambling, unfocused precursor to every tepid-guy-based existential call-and-response I've ever written. Sugar says she used to jack off her grandfather; I say I've been feeling really dizzy lately. Sugar says she misses her dead mother; I say, "I miss drinking games where you point at someone's face really aggressively and shout YOU YOU YOU YOU! DRINK DRINK DRINK YOU FUCKING PUSSY DRINK!" Sugar says she killed a baby bird with her bare hands; I say something about eating lukewarm soup.
So when you mention this poetic column by Cheryl Strayed and then ask me, "Are you sure?" my answer to you is: HELL, NO. I am not sure. I am never sure."
"Q. Avoiding Family Holidays: My career has led me to go to school and get a good job far away from family. My parents and my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew still live in the same area so every holiday I fly to see them. Last Christmas, my father declared that holidays were only for people who had children and that anyone who doesn’t have children is worthless and has no reason to live. Everyone but myself at the table agreed. I was the only person at that table that doesn’t have a child and needless to say I was hurt. After the festivities were done, I took my father aside to politely express my hurt to him. He starting yelling at me that I was just jealous of my sibling and that he stands by his judgment. I’m glad my sibling is happy but I never want to be her and I love my life. Before that holiday, I thought I had a supportive family that was proud of me. Now I find myself not wanting to fly back for any of the holidays. How should I handle my family’s requests that I visit?"
"A: You could say something like, “After last year’s discussion, I’m afraid I simply can’t guarantee that if I fly out to see you my plane will be hit by a drone, explode, and then my worthless life will blessedly be over.” I’m glad you spoke up to your father because sometimes people say idiotic things then when called out on it, explain, “I didn’t mean you, honey!” But apparently he meant you. You say to your family that you remain shaken by the dreadful things said about your life. You don’t feel you’re being overly sensitive when you object to being told you have no reason to live. If they want to revise their stand, then you will be happy to listen, and then you will consider if you have reason to come for the holiday."
Yeah, at the very LEAST you don't go back there without a fucking apology. I would give this person permission to cuss out the entire family.
"Now I know that there are a massive number of people who crap all over this album, and I understand it. It’s not rocket science, it’s not Sweeney Todd, and I get it. But, "there’s a kind of sound that you won’t find in my memory core/ When you add it to a note that sound is just before/ and another one after that and another three and four/ and suddenly you’re singing notes galore/ if you will only give it a try and sing it clearly through/ your voice will float like a feather and we’ll sing together, R2." I’m not embarrassed by that lyric. Nor am I embarrassed by "Your every friend is bettin’ there’s a great duet inside you." It was great fun to do.
I wrote "Christmas in the Stars" and I wrote "Merry, Merry Christmas" and I thought it might be fun, and I think my son and all of his contemporaries would love the idea of receiving Star Wars-y, science fiction presents: "a baseball that throws itself/ if you’ve been good this year/ it may appear on your toy shelf." The other one was a robot that’s counting sheep and then he falls asleep."
Much of the credit for that goes to Joines’ most delightful invention, the Secret Society of Santa Clauses. This group is basically the United Nations/Illuminati of Santas, including such characters as the Netherlands’ Sinterklaas, Afghanistan’s Baba Chaghaloo, Japan’s Hoteiosho, and Italy’s Babbo Natale. Like the United Nations, they’re an ineffectual bunch motivated by centuries-old conflicts. The Santas have mystical powers, but those powers are lost when the bones of St. Nicolas are stolen.
The powerless, bickering Santas have one hope: the Krampus, an enemy they’ve kept under lock and key for years. The Krampus is a demon from German folklore known for punishing wicked children by shoving them in a sack for easy transport back to his lair. In this story, he’s our anti-hero. And after he reluctantly agrees to help his goody-goody captors, he tries to unwrap the mystery of the stolen bones while facing off against nearly every holiday-themed character you can imagine, including a horde of evil Sugar Plum Fairies, a murderous version of the Nutcracker, a gun-toting Doc Holiday, and a scary-powerful Old Man Winter. The Santas aren’t the most trusting group of guys: They arm Krampus with a naughty bomb, and if his thoughts or actions are too naughty, the Santas will blow him up. This isn’t exactly a Peanuts special."
"’m a Christmas fanatic. There’s a year-round Christmas room in my house, populated with decorations I’ve picked up in my yearly excursions to Santa’s Village in Jefferson, N.H. I’ve long jumped at the chance to play St. Mick at book readings, charitable gatherings, and, yes, the occasional Twisted Sister show. I’ve even done some appearances in full Santa garb at various WWE shows. There’s nothing I love more than putting on the red suit and spreading Yuletide cheer.
Feed your Lalaloopsy Babies water, press their belly "button," and check their diaper for a surprise
Magically poops charms
Color changing patterns on diapers
Dolls are plastic with movable arms, legs and head
Includes 3 special diapers, 1 hat, 1 bib, 1 bottle, 1 bowl, 1 spoon and 1 charm bracelet
ONLY TWO LEFT IN STOCK WHEN I SAW THIS.
Guess what, girls? Babies DON'T POOP CHARMS IRL.
But what is good? THE REVIEWS, OF COURSE.
"I was very disappointed that the charms were not pooped magically, but clearly pooped using the rational laws of science. Still, a poop-charm is a poop-charm, as Woodrow Wilson used to say. Three stars."
"My sister can be so hard to shop for. After all, she loves jewelry and she loves poop. How to combine the two? At first I thought I was going to have to watch the entire YouTube video serious on "How to Turn Your Dog's Excrement Into Wearable Accessories." I didn't want to. I mean, it is 73 episodes long. Who has the time? Thankfully, I soon spied an advertisement for the Diaper Surprise doll! What are the odds! A doll that [beeeep]s out jewelry! I knew I had to get it. The reason I give this three stars instead of five, however, is because none of the jewelry seems to come in brown (my sister's favorite color). You'd think that a when designing a doll that craps out trinkets, they would have at least a FEW that are brown in color. But no luck. What WERE they thinking?"
"This toy has added a lot of fun to potty-training; my daughter has been searching for charms in all of her bowel movements, and I'm searching for more charms to hide!"
"After only having this toy for three weeks, my daughter has successfully learned to crap out 1 carrot diamond earrings. I believe with further training with this doll she will be able to eventually defficate gold, platinum, and topaz. It has certainly made potty time far more interesting (and lucrative)."
"The surprise is that it doesn't really poop charms. There are charms already in the diaper and the water makes them "appear". Why would a parent complain that a doll only appears to poo charms instead of actually pooing charms? Good question. But somehow I feel dissatisfied."
"Teaching kids to play with the contents of a diaper. This is ridiculous and gross on so many levels. This is a doll for future pedophiles. Nobody should be playing which a dolls private parts like this."
"This is most certainly Lucifer's handiwork, and what a delight! Can't wait to give this to my unborn daughter, she is a huge poop fan. Until then, it's all mine, haters! Careful, most "magic charms" are not as tasty as they look. One star off for inaccurately portraying the cold, black, dead eyes of Satan."
"has every other doll concept been exhausted that we've resorted to this?"