"Why They Hate Us" - reason #94: Emeril Live

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

How can anyone get that excited about paprika?

And do you know what cooking shows have been lacking for years? Live bands. Live bands led by a guy named "Doc." Live bands that play 10 second adult-jazz, Cinemax-style intros right after the commercial break and right before the quiche comes out of the oven.

"Ba duh ba buh da buh da da DAA....(and.... windchimes)."

Then Emeril does a dance and tells a fresh joke. Ideally one based around a nice food pun.

"Folks, today we're gonna be cooking up some nice grilled corn...I hope you're all ears!!!"

The band plays a quick hit. Every member of the audience simultaneously has the strongest orgasm of their life from laughing so hard.

Bam!

That's the last time I go to the movies with John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.

Talk about a circus.

First of all, whenever I'm hanging out with John, everybody assumes that my name is also John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. Come on. What are the odds that there are two John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidts in the world, let alone that they would be hanging out with each other at La Salsa?

Usually, it'll be John who calls me to see what's going on.

"Hey man!"

"Uggghhhh, hey John. How's it going?"

"Great! Wanna go see 'The Pacifier?'"

"Uhhhh, surrrrrreee. Why not."

"Great! See ya soon."

Everything'll be fine until the movie gets out. That's when the crowd notices John and all hell breaks loose. Whenever we get out, those goddamn people always shout, they shout "John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt!!!! Dah dah dah dah, dah dah dah!!!"

Then they'll usually break into rounds. Every single time. It's infuriating.

John seems to be cool with it, he says it's been happening to him for as long as he remembers and that he doesn't even hear the chanting any more. I get the feeling that for some sick reason he actually likes all the attention.

Little does he know though, I would never go through all this crap if his sister wasn't so damn hot.

The Penultimate Warrior never quite made it to the top of the WWF.

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

At the top of the WWE/F food chain, there is only room for one. Those who reach the pinnacle of the "sport" find themselves in the rarified air reserved only for society's true heroes. These are speedo'd men of mythic proportions.

For those whose never reach those heights, uncertainty and a life spent wondering what could have been are one's constant companions.

Such is the sad case of The Penultimate Warrior. Here was an athlete who devoted himself to a life inside the squared circle, gaining the respect of his peers and the adoration of many, many young boys. His finishing move, The Penultimate Adjustment was played out in schoolyards across the nation. To the layman, it appeared that The Warrior had it all: the fans, the money, the makeup.

But looks can be deceiving. Everyone thought The Penultimate Warrior was the best. Everyone assumed The Penultimate Warrior was number one in the game.

"Of course he's the best! He's The Penultimate Warrior! He's Penultimate!"

How wrong they were. It turned out that The Penultimate Warrior was not the best, but only the second best. And when it came time for the WWE/F to make personnel adjustments, it was The Penultimate Warrior who was dropped from the roster.

"Sure, I had a great run. I loved my time in the ring," says The Warrior from his current position as an investment banker.
"But sometimes, I still miss the thrill of it all. Sometimes I still would love another shot at the top. Another chance to bask in the sun."

"To show that I'm more than just Penultimate."

"Why They Hate Us" - reason #472: PARADE Magazine

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

I'd love to be a fly on the wall during the (weekly?) editorial meetings at PARADE "Magazine."

"Okay, people. What are we doing this week? Hit me with it."

"Well sir, Douglas and myself are finishing up our piece about the middle-class family that is searching for The American Dream..."

"Good, good...who else? Come on, give it to me."

"Sir, I'm finishing up my photo essay on The American Dream and how a middle-class family is searching for it."

"Nice! Nice! Allright, we're on a roll....Johnson, how's the celebrity interview coming?"

"Sir, it's going great. Dr. Koop has had some wild stories to say the least. I'm thinking of calling the piece, "An Interview with former Surgeon General C Everett Koop."

"Brilliant! Troops, troops, tupperware, Clifford..."

"Lladro, Jesus, troops, Marilyn Vos Savant..."

"Cathy, jello, troops, fireworks, 15 year olds talking about realtionships!!!"

"Yes! Yes! Print it! To the presses!!!"

Luckily, the majority of PARADE readers are either in their 70s, from Wyoming, or hung over from a liver-killing Saturday night.

All of which are roughly the same thing.

Circular reasoning is totally awesome.

People have asked me why I find circular reasoning to be so truly awesome. I tell them that they're foolish; anyone can see that circular reasoning is awesome by first looking at just how incredibly great it is.

If they took the time and paid attention to just how amazing and sweet circular reasoning was, it would be impossible for them not to realize that yes, circular reasoning IS totally awesome.

Often times, they still don't agree with me. "But you haven't given me any real reason WHY circular reasoning is so awesome!" is something I have had said to me. "You're just jumping back to your point without any evidence or facts to support it!"

Childish, I know. But they're just so cutely frustrated that I have to help them out.

Usually I'm draw them a little parable to help illustrate the folly of their ways. This is one of my favorites that I'll use from time to time:

Me: "Okay, let's forget about circular reasoning and how awesome it is for a second."

Idiot: "Okay, sure."

Me: "Now follow me here...The Bible is inspired by the word of God."

Idiot: "But how do you know that?"

Me: "Because it says so, right here, in the Bible."

Idiot: "But why should I believe what it says there?"

(Nice. I got 'em right where I want 'em).

Me: "Because the Bible is inspired by the word of God. Don't you get it?!?"

Booyah. After this, the person is usually so frustrated at being so obviously wrong that they just give up, resigning themselves to their own loserdom. It's sad how some people can't get a grasp on simple concepts no matter how much you help them. All minds are not equal.

I'm thinking about going to law school.

I've found a hidden message in certain t-shirts.

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

Man, some people can be so subversive.

Get this...while recently hanging out on the Venice Beach boardwalk, a nice man walked by me in what first appeared to be a white Taco Bell shirt. Upon further inspection though, I noticed that the shirt did not say "Taco Bell," but instead said "Toca Bowl," which one of my good friends informed me was a reference to smoking marijuana through a pipe-like device!

Color me fooled!

How clever! While they maintained the same color scheme as the original logo, the bell normally found in the Taco Bell logo was in this instance replaced with a pipe bowl. Sneaky!

Cued into this new realm of double entendre t-shirts, I started to take a closer look at the shirts of the people around me. Man, were my eyes opened.

What I thought to be an Adidas shirt turned out to say "Addicted" and the normal logo was in the shape of a reefer leaf. A t-shirt which I would have normally pegged as an Apple Computer "Think Different" shirt instead directed wearers to "Think Chronic." Whoa!

"Got Milk?" became ""Got Dank?" Nice!

A shirt with what looked to have a dollar bill on it carried the Latin "E Cannibus Unum." Damn!

Needless to say, I had no idea the t-shirt industry housed such a solid base of creative genius. Who knows, someday I might get crazy and make my own shirt.

How's this sound: Instead of "Dole"...it would say "Bowl!!!"

Eh? Eh!?!

British Knights rumored not be British, ever knighted.

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

Or good shoes.

That's about all for this one.

What does Spike Lee call a joint?

If Spike is burnin' one down with his friends, and he is providing the buds and the papers and doing all of the rolling, would he and all his friends be smoking Spike Lee joints?

And if this were to take place while "Do the Right Thing" or "Bamboozled" was playing in the background, would everybody be smoking Spike Lee joints while watching Spike Lee joints?

And if Spike were to bady injure an elbow while all of this was going on and his friends had to call 911, would the 911 operator have to report that a Spike Lee joint was hurt while smoking a Spike Lee joint and watching a Spike Lee joint?

And for the record, "She Hate Me" had a weak narrative thread.

Wrapped rental cars seem very impractical.

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

How does this make a rental car service any better or more reliable? If anything, I would imagine it would slow down the rental process considerably.

Before Mitch, the 24 year old, poli-sci major from UC Riverside is able to deliver your rental car to your door, he must first enter the vehicle and then wait at least half an hour for the rest of the Enterprise team to properly wrap the car. Have you ever tried to wrap a Dodge Neon? It ain't easy.

So now Mitch has to drive to your place with all his door windows wrapped and no sideviews, probably drawing nonstop ridicule and catcalls from people he passes on the road. Poor Mitch.

Hopefully, he arrives at your home, finds you pissed off from having to wait an hour longer than any other rental car delivery company would have taken, and now he has to open the door, effectively destroying all the hard work that was put into the wrap to begin with.

What a waste. Hope the initial, "Oh look, they wrapped the car...wow," is worth all the manhours and incovenience.

It's the type of project that Cristo's retarded half-brother would be all over.

Does U2's lawyer do only pro-Bono work?

Technically yes.

Whether or not he collects a paycheck is besides the point. Although, if a situation were to arise where the members of the band had some sort of internal conflict, this might not necessarily hold true.

For example, let's say Mr. The Edge decided that he wanted a larger percentage of tour gross, leading to a rift between the band members and a falling out between himself and Bono. If he were to then sue the lead singer of his former group, and if the band's lawyer saw it in his best interest to side with Mr. The Edge, than the possibility would arise that the formerly pro-Bono lawyer would now be a decidedly anti-Bono lawyer.

An even more interesting possiblity would occur if the lawyer in question was so moved by the plight and situation of Mr. The Edge, that he found it in his heart to take on his cause free of charge.

He would then become, in effect, a lawyer who is both anti-Bono and pro-bono on the very same case. Whether or not the local Bar Association would find this to be permissible is another matter.

Man, they play "Vertigo" way too much.

From the B.A.T.S Archives: Transcript of U.S. House Committee on Government Reform hearings on Voodoo in Major League Baseball (March, 1991)

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

(Originally appeared on Bottled at the Source, March 23, 1991)

Rep. Waxman (D-Calif.): "Please state your name for the record."

Mr. Cerrano: "Me llamo Pedro Cerrano."

Rep. Tom Davis (R-Va.): "Mr. Cerrano, this committee would prefer if you spoke in English during this hearing.."

Mr. Cerrano: "Yes sir."

Rep. Davis: "Now Mr. Cerrano, we have testimony from numerous players, many from your own organization, who have said that on numerous occasions during Cleveland's 1989 playoff run yourself and other teammates routinely practiced Voodoo both in the clubhouse and sometimes during games. Is this correct?"

Rep. Waxman: "Mr. Cerrano?"

Mr. Cerrano: "Yes sir."

Rep. Davis: "We have also heard from a Mr. Mays-Hayes that the practice of Voodoo or Cuban Santeria included, but was not limited to, the ritualistic pre-game slaughter of animals such as chickens. Is this indeed true sir?"

Mr. Cerrano: "No it is not. Mr. Mays-Hayes never brought a live bird into the clubhouse. The bird was already cooked and dead before anyone came in contact with it."

Rep. Waxman: "I remind you that you are under oath sir."

Mr. Cerrano: "I am quite aware of that, Mr. Representative."

Rep. Waxman: "Let's talk about a Mr. Jawbow."

Mr. Cerrano: "It's pronounced 'Jo-Boo.'"

Rep. Waxman: "Ok, 'Jo-Boo.' Now, we've learned from pitching coach Pepper Leach that this Mr. 'Jo-Boo' was some sort of a pagan deity that many members of your Cleveland teammates followed to a level that comes close to worship. Also, that manager Lou Brown was aware of this and turned a blind eye. How do you respond to this?"

Mr. Cerrano: "Personally, I have no allegiance to Jo-Boo. I was good to him for many years, and he failed me on numerous occasions. We maintain no contact whatsoever. And maybe Lou knew what was going on. I have no idea."

Rep. Davis: "Can you comment on any relationship between Jo-Boo and a Mr. Eddie Harris?"

Mr. Cerrano: "What Eddie does in his spare time is none of my business."

Rep. Davis: "Yet we learned from Mr. Harris that it was you who introduced him to Jo-Boo. That it was you who brought Voodoo into the clubhouse. That without your influence, the whole issue of Voodoo in Major League Baseball would not even exist."

Mr. Cerrano: "Look, we were just giving the fans what they wanted. They came to the park for the homeruns, for the stolen bases. Voodoo gave us the competitive edge to steal 100 bases, the throw a ball 102mph, to hit 700 foot homeruns. You think Jake Taylor could have played for as long as he did without Santeria?"

Rep. Waxman: "Mr. Cerrano, thank you for your time. I want you to think long and hard though about the consequences your alleged actions have wrought. Voodoo is now more commonplace in college and high school athletics due to the example that you and many of your teammates have set. I hope you take that to heart."

Mr. Cerrano: "Chinga te cavron."

Rep. Davis: "Excuse me sir?"

Mr. Cerrano: "I said, 'Thank you both very much for you time.'"

Rep. Davis: "Oh. Thank you."

Rep. Waxman: "Alright, let's see here...Mr. Vaughn, please state your full name."

"Chucky" Cheese is just a nickname.

Charles in Charge
Originally uploaded by eppyad.

Boy am I embarrassed. For years, I thought when I went out to work on my skeeball game, I was going down to the local "Chucky Cheese's." When I saw the guy in the mouse (rat?) costume, I'd pat him on the back with a, "Hey Chucky!" or a, "Chucky, good to see ya again!" I thought we were pretty tight, Chucky Cheese and I.

Well, I recently learned that it is not "Chucky Cheese's" but rather "Chuck E. Cheese's."

Awkward.

I've been calling this guy the wrong name for years now, and he hasn't once said anything, probably just shaking his head and scoffing at me when I left for another round of skeeball.

"That guy's been coming here for ten years and hasn't got my name right once. What a jack-ass....Hi kids!!!"

Man, do I feel like a douche. I'm not really sure how I should approach Chuck when I'm at his place tomorrow night. Just act like everything's cool? Acknowledge that I've been a loser for so long? I just dunno.

And what does that middle initial "E" stand for anyways? Charles Eugene Cheese, Charles Edward Cheese, Charles Erskine Cheese? Whatever it is, it's pretty lame sounding.

Ya know what, fuck that guy, I don't need him or his skeeball. How many times has he come over my place? What do I owe him?

Is a mouse (rat?) really the best mascot for a family eatery? I think not...Chucky.

God is big on capitalizing pronouns.

Yes He surely is. You can tell that He likes it by how many times you see people do it when writing about Him. It's as if He instructed folks to do it, back when He was talking directly to people and they were talking directly to Him.

"Listen up. From now on, whenever you mention Me and refer to Me as "He," please go with "He" instead of the weaker and less magnificent "he."
Let said rule apply when using "Him, His, or even Your if you are referring to Me in any sort of a possessive tense.
That is all for now. Carry on."

Does capitalizing pronouns really make them holier? I remember the first time I saw a God-ified pronoun I was confused and thought they were talking about another person. An understandable error; those biblical guys did have odd names...

"Lot who begat Shemp who begat Him who begat Cain who begat Yours who begat Moe who begat He..."

And while on the subject of begatting, "begat" is a word that it not used nearly enough in casual conversation.

"Did you here about Liz? She finally begat Her baby!"
"Oh, You're kidding Me!"
"No, I would never joke with You about That!"
"What's His or Her name?"
"Well, It's a boy, He weighed about 7lbs at begatting, and They're gonna call Him Billy Jo."

Products from The 99 Cents Store are often subpar.

There's just something about many of the products that I have purchased at The 99 Cents Store that leave much to be desired. When I go into a national chain to purchase goods and services, I assume that they have some sort of quality control system in place or an employee position like Standards and Maintenance; something of that nature.

With this is mind, I must say that I have been vastly underwhelmed with the many of the goods I have spent my hard earned dollar on at T99CS. For example, the "Star Wars Galactic Bubble Gum Shampoo" which came in the Darth Vader shaped bottle wasn't nearly what I was expecting. The shampoo itself had a less than stellar consistency, a little too watery, and the bubble gum scent that the bottle championed was quite weak. When it came to cleaning my hair, I also felt it lacked effective moisturizing power, which unfortunately carried over into the way it dealt with split ends, frizziness and volume. Also the molding of Vader that acted as the cap to the shampoo was rather flimsy, to the point where I wouldn't feel comfortable using it in any major scene reenactments. Also, the painted on "lights" that were applied to the Vader-mold were not the correct colors, a minor complaint, but one that I hope the powers that be take into consideration.

The knife-set and pizza cutter that I purchased with the "Star Wars Galactic Bubble Gum Shampoo" were also unfortunately far from adequate. None of the blades seemed to be as sharp as I would have wanted, and two of the serrated knives lost nearly all their serrations while cutting through a loaf of sourdough. Once again, I was disappointed in the quality of products purchased from T99CS.

I hope some of the big wigs at The Store listen to the buying public and realize that it is not okay to peddle products that are not of a high quality. How, as a consumer, are we to know what is quality merchandise and what is less than excellent? I hope the next time I walk in to The 99 Cent Store I will find aisle after aisle of high quality clothing, produce, and home products.

I hope.

Jesus was a pioneer of gang signs.

Hey Zeus!
Originally uploaded by eppyad.

In his youth, J.C. of N. ran with an upstart young bunch of messiahs known as The Nazareth Nine. They were known far and wide as the most pious group in the region, a crew that you most definitely did not want to trade revelations with. After a heated confrontation with a rival group of prophets, times were tense in the neighborhood between Upper Galilee and West Canaan; it was hard to judge a friend from a foe.

It was this anxious environment that led JC to institute a series of hand gestures (as seen above) that allowed rival crews to easily distinguish between each other.

Groundbreaking for its time, the new signs or "Jesus Knuckles," proved to be so effective they were soon adopted by other faiths, most notably the Shinto Crips.

Yeah...hardy har. In all seriousness though, what is the deal with Jesus' hands in all those medieval tapestries and mosaic? If you're a member of the largest religious group in the group in the nation and you have a satisfying answer, please let me know.

Until then, it will continue to look to me as if:

1) Jesus is in a gang.
2) Jesus has terrible arthritis.
3) Jesus is trying to flick a booger.

Please set me straight.

Don't miss Friday's big homecoming game between Devry and Bryman.

This is gonna be one of those games that they'll talk about for years to come. Devry enters this year's contest with one of the strongest squads they've ever assembled, while Bryman presents solid matchups at nearly every key position.

Make no mistake, there is no love lost between these two bastions of sort-of-higher education.

Devry, of course, will be looking to its leader Marcus Sandoval,32, Class of '04-'06, to take charge in the contest. Sandoval is a true warrior, with a cannon arm on the field and a midly positive attitude of it, where he is on the third leg of his DeVry University Advantage Fast-Track Degree Program in Office Management. Sandoval had this to say in regards to tonight's big game:

"I came to Devry because I knew it offered learning that applies directly to the workplace. It has:
1) instructors with real-world experience
2) a focus on work-related applications and
3) ongoing career advising and career search support.

I knew this was the place that would allow me to fully matriculate, while still maintain why my life outside of class. What I didn't realize was how hard-core their pigskin program was. We're gonna mop the floor with those Bryman bitches. I promised my kids as much."

On the other side of the field, Bryman enters the contest without the marquee names of Devry, but with possibly a more well-rounded, team oriented attack. Just ask Athletic Director/Dental Administration Instructor Darryl Cifuentes.

"At Bryman College, you will gain the career training and critical skills needed to start a rewarding career.
You are assured of a valuable education that responds to the needs of industry. Bryman College continually evaluates and updates educational programs in such fields as Medical Assisting and Computerized Office Applications.

Also, we run the nicest blitz package and Cover Two Prevent defense on either side of the Mississippi. We will shut your offense down at any of our 30 conveniently located campuses across the country."

The halftime show will feature a brief question and answer session and a meet-&-greet with faculty.

From the B.A.T.S Archives: Interview with Kris Kross (June, 1992)

(Originally appeared on Bottled at the Source, June 12, 1992)

B.A.T.S- "I'm with Chris "Daddy Mack" Smith and Chris "Mack Daddy" Kelly, the two young dynamos who have recently turned the hip-hop world inside out if you will, with their brand of in-your-face style and rhymes. Guys, it's great that you could be here today."

C.S.- ".erusaelp 'nikcufahtum a s'tI .akcufahtum sknahT"

C.K.- ".ay ees ot dooG .aggin haeY

B.A.T.S- "Now Chris S., you're the "Mack Daddy."

C.S.- ".haeY"

B.A.T.S- "How does that differ from Chris K., he being the "Daddy Mack?"

C.S.- ".kcaM yddaD" eht gnivah tuohtiw "yddaD kcaM" eht evah t'nac aY .wonk ay ,nioc emas eht fo sedis tnereffid owt er'yehT"

C.K.- ".tbuod oN"

B.A.T.S- "Now guys, we're still all reelin' in "Jump." That is the joint. Any hint as to what you're gonna drop on us next?"

C.S.- "'.pU ti mraW' dellac s'tI .tihs eht eb annog si maj txen ehT"

C.K.- ".pu sgniht mraw ot tuoba syawla si sirhC gnos eht tuohgourhT"

C.S.- ".od ot nrob saw sirhC tahw yllautca si pu ti gnimraw taht nrael ew neht dna ,haeY"

B.A.T.S- Nice.

C.K.- ".tihs eht s'tI .thgir nmaD"

B.A.T.S- "Guys, what can I say. From the sound of things, you're gonna be around and in the thick of things for many, many years to come. Sit down with me again 7 years from now?"

C.K.- ".kcid a taE .akcufrehtom yknoh ouy ,yaw oN"

C.S.- "!aggin fles'oy kcehC .secaf ruo attuo kcuf eht teg tseb ouY .hctib heaY"

A diamond's worth should be based on the amount of laborers killed while mining it.

Carats, clarity and brilliance are soooo last year. Not to mention the fact that diamonds are already priced based on a manufactured shortage, driven up in "worth" by South African conglomerates and expatriate fat cats who sleep on piles of money while being fanned with palm fonds held by Iman lookalikes. That's just not gonna cut it anymore.

When I roll into the club with two grapefruit sized stones in my ears and a 12 pound necklace with a falcon-shaped pendant blinding every fool that looks my way, I wanna know that my bling is REALLY worth something. And what's worth more than the lives of mine-working children? You guessed it: nothing.

"Damn brothah, that watch is off the hook! I can't believe you can even lift your arm."
"No doubt. This muthafucka comes from the biggest labor camp in the Congo. I'm wearing 15 unfortunate bitches on my wrist right now. You know how I do it!!!"

It's high time the marketing teams at the diamond corporations got on the ball.
"This year, show her you'd marry her all over again. The Diamond Anniverary Pendant from Debeers. The name you trust. The quality you count on. The souls of dead workers in every stone.

A diamond is forever."

Exactly HOW low is the Lowest Common Denominator?

And how does one calculate said denominator? And who is doing these denominational calculations?

Is there a highest common denominator? If they're both common, wouldn't the two of these denominators be the same denominator? And, if that's the case, why specify which denominator we're talking about?

Assuming though that the L.C.D is indeed it's own singular denominator, many questions remain to be answered. For starters, does topography play a part in designating something as THE Lowest Common Denominator? Say "Blue Collar Comedy Tour" was being watched in a home in Denver, CO, while at the same time a family in Tallahassee, FL was tuning in to the same broadcast. Would the jokes about trucks and dogs be considered an even lower common denominator in the Floridian home based on its proximity to sea level? And if this is the case, would a broadcast of the upcoming "Jeff Foxworthy Roast" shown on the floor of the Marianas Trench be the absolute Lowest Common Denominator physically possible? Would a screening of "Masterpiece Theater" automatically drop a few pegs in prestige if it was being shown in Death Valley, or the Dead Sea?

And what about this denominator is so common? Are some denominators more common than others? Is there a certain percentage of people that must be in agreement on a given denominator to make it common? When and where do these meetings convene?

"All right people, let's get down to business. All in favor of 7..."
(silence)
"OK, too high. 6?..noo...ok, 3."
(massive applause)
"Good work people. See you all next month."

And please, let us not forget about the poor bastard that gets passed over in all this denominational discussion, the sad, forgotten numerator. What did the numerator do to piss off so many people and find himself relegated to the back of the fractional bus? When was the last time you heard anyone even mention the numerator in casual conversation?

"Goodness, did you see that program on PBS last night? Yo-Yo-Ma and a bunch of blind Zapatista guerrillas all sat down at The Reichstag to discuss Economic Globablization and Pan-Asian Fusion Cuisine. Talk about hoity-toity! It's just like PBS to cater to the Highest-Uncommon-Numerator."

"I'm so sick of this H.U.N pandering!"

"I know...They'll do anything for ratings."

JC Penny spins some of the hottest beats in adult contemporary.

Apart from a fresh new Bugle Boy sweatshirt, or a slick pair of tapered Lee Jeans, I bet you thought there was no other reason to swing by JC Penny. Think again.

Who knew that an establishment like JC Penny would be rocking with some of the nicest moves on the 1's and 2's in recent memory? Talk about feeling a flow. Whoever they have working the wheels of steel most definitely has some skilz.

Picture this: A realtime, 20 second crossfade mash-up between Kenny G's "How Could an Angel Break My Heart" and "Closer Than Close" by Peabon Bryson. Then, a slow, slow fade out, a shout-out on the PA slingin' the specials on Lladro Porcelain replicas, then dropping back into the beat with the slammin' "Torn" from Natalie Imbruglia.

Damn!!! It told you this stuff was on fi-yah. I'm can't wait to hear the Jars of Clay/Teddy Pendergrass comp. next time I roll into JC to the P.

Coffee creamers rely heavily on hyperbole.

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

Are you prepared? You'd better be...you've been warned.

Personally, I've heeded "International Delight's" cautionary advice. I listened when I was told to, "Prepare [myself] for the creamiest, dreamiest, most tantalizing experience in the known universe."

Damn, that sounds intense.
The cautionary tale continued.

"Never has a non-dairy, artificial creamer brought so much sophistication, so much romance, so much passion to a seemingly normal day. When you think you're ready for this much luxury, we'll see you at the breakfast table."

A challenge. A challenge from "International Delights." I'm ready to step up to the creaminess...to tackle the dreaminess.

Are you?

I'm looking for a renegade Notary Public.

I'm talking about somebody who is down to notarize anything, at any time, wherever I want to meet them. There have to be some N.P.'s that turned to the black-market at some point, fed up with the rules and regulations of a notarizing system that gets in the way of real, creative notarizing. I'm not talking about living wills or estate deeds. Been there, done that.

I'm looking for a man or woman hard-core enough to meet me under a bridge, in the rain, ready to get down to business and notarize some crazy shit, no questions asked.

"So man, whaddaaahhhhh, what can I do for you this evening?"
"I brought my cat."
"I will notarize the hell out of that fucking cat."

That's what I'm talking about. Gung-ho, stone cold. 'Bout it. A person who remembers why the got into the notary business to begin with: because they loved to notarize.

Tangently, "Notary Republic" sounds strikingly similar to "The Notar Republic," a loose alliance of planets that took a stand against Star Fleet in the first few seasons of Star Trek.

It's not a real movie trailer without that one Peter Gabriel song.

"....It's the story of a man and a woman, torn apart by a storm, brought together by one very special horse....."
(music rises)....
'GRAB YOUR THINGS, I'VE COME TO TAKE YOU HOME!!!!'

"...When you have nobody else to turn to..
'MY HEART WAS GOING BOOM, BOOM, BOOM'
...sometimes the only place to turn to is the place you've never turned to before...
(music rises)...
...turn...to...Yourself"
'GRAB YOUR THINGS, I'VE COME TO TAKE YOU HOME!!!!'

"This summer, get ready to meet the firs...
'MY HEART WAS GOING BOOM, BOOM, BOOM'
...uhhh, get ready to meet the first woman to ev...
'GRAB YOUR THINGS, I'VE COME TO TAKE YOU HOME!!!'
...okayyyyy. To meet the first woman to ever love a retar..
'GRAB YOUR THINGS, I'VE COME TO TAKE YOU HOME!!!'
...That's it, I'm done."
'BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.'

Have there been any other uplifting songs with a climactic build that have been released in the last 15 years? And if so, are any of these tracks allowed to be licensed for cinematic marketing? And if yes, then what did Peter Gabriel do to put such a stranglehold on the world of trailer music?

This song has become the musical equivalent of the "In a World" voiceover.

Why are modern-day lion tamers still using chairs?

With the vast amount of high-tech, state-of-the-art gear tailored specifically towards subduing lions readily available in today's market, it's humerously quaint how professional lion tamers, or "Dashing Wranglers" as they prefer to be called, continue to employ a simple wooden chair or stool in their repetoire. I know that "the biz" is all about tradition and paying homage to the greats that came before; Lucious J. McGillicuddy and Barkley J. Liontame are obviously the first two that come to mind.

But come on, we are living in the age of Wi-Fi and Bluetooth enabled lion-zappers, not to mention the new Mane Incapacitators which double as x-raid, intranet servers and mp3/wma players. College-age lion-tamers are using these and other tools on a daily basis, and yet the establishment refuses to make to the leap to the modern world of sophisticated giant feline containment tools.

Tradition is one thing, but holding back the natural flow of progress is just unnacceptable.

Wilford Brimley probably has the most foul gas in the world.

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

We're talking about paint peeling, wet-dog plus burning hair and papermill, hazardous to your health level of farts here. Something on a whole new scope of smell, something that normal people would have no frame of reference for how to react to. Fetal postion, in the corner, cold sweat, night terrors during the day. Bad news.

Let's break this down. W-Brim is an overweight, elderly, heavily medicated man who has an enormous mustache and eats lots and lots of Quaker Oatmeal. Then he rides horses all day. I can smell those last two sentences.

Imagine being in a steam room with the man when he lifts a pink flank and lets one go, the fart ripping through the air with a noise that is oddly akin to his name...."BBBBRRRIMMMMMMLEYYYYY!!" He'd chuckle.

A combination of oatmeal, medicine and horses. Of oatmeal and medicine and horses.

I'm pretty sure all the menthol in the world wouldn't be able to cover up one of Wilford's.

How much faster and more furious could the sequel to 2Fast 2Furious possibly be?

Who knows, man? If and when the powers that be decide to "drop" the latest Fast and Furious installment on us, it remains to be seen which scale of fast and/or furious progression will be seen. Will the next chapter continue it's fast and furious growth in the same manner that the public saw between The Fast and the Furious and 2Fast 2Furious? Only time will tell.

Continuing at its present rate of Fast and Furious growth, one can expect a film which is at least 3 times as fast and furious as the original; 50% more furious than the previous movie as well as 50% faster. Something along the lines of Tre Fast, Tre Furious, a title that not only alludes to the faster and more furious nature of the film, but also plays into the fact that it is indeed the third movie fast and furious enough to warrant the title of Fast and Furious.

If however, the studio executives decide on a more irregular numerical progression for just how fast and how furious the movies will be, different titles and different degrees of exactly how fast and how furious would come into play. So far, the progression from Fast to 2Fast could have just as easily come from an exponential, self-additive number pattern, quite a fast and furious numerical pattern in its own right.

For example:
1+1=2
2+2=4
4+4=8.....and so on.

Taking this possibility into account, a decidedly different picture with varying degrees of fastness and furiousity emerges.

The Fast and the Furious+The Fast and the Furious=2Fast 2Furious
2Fast 2Furious+2Fast 2Furious=A movie already 4 times faster and more furious than the original.

While this scenario is indeed feasible, it would quickly begin to pose practical problems. Were the series to continue to be a success, and the public continued to demand more movies that were exponentially faster and more furious, the filmmakers would eventually hit a point where the expected degree of just how fast and furious the movie should be would come into direct conflict with just how fast and how furious they were physically able to actually make the film.

If the series were to progress to a fourth installment, something not out of the realm of fast and furious possibility, the filmmakers would be faced with the task of crafting a movie that was SIXTEEN times faster and more furious than The Fast and the Furious. Would that even be possible? Can anything be that fast or that furious? We're talking about something along the lines of a 5 hour car chase involving 300 cars where each car would be driving at 8000mph. Four naked chicks would be wrestling on top of each car during the chase, and 2 nuclear warheads would be strapped to each chick's boobs. The chase would plow through both the Boston and New York City Marathons, killing every single person who was running, and the people who normally pass out little cups of water on the side of the race would instead each be equipped with one of those spinning howitzer guns from Terminator 2.

And Paul Walker would look fiiiiiine.

Andre is the beer of champagnes.

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

Made from the finest grape-like berries and sugar byproducts. Choose between the distinguished twist cap or the elegant plastic "cork." Served luke-cold in either a Big Red Cup (tm) or drunk straight from the bottle, Andre consistently delivers the warm, diabetes-inducing experience long treasured by homeless people and refined fraternity members.

Goes great with an olive tampenade and Vicodin.

Latino males have limited first-name options.

If you're Latino and you're a male, there are somewhere between 12-15 names that could be your first name. It's a fact. If you're the parent of a Latino boy, I assume that this makes things easier when considering names for your child.

When was the last time you met a Latino dude, and he told you his name, and you thought to yourself, "Wow, I've never heard that one before." I'll tell you when the last time was. It was never.

When you and that dude met, and he told you his name, what you thought was, "I totally could have guessed that. I knew his name was Jorge. I knew it the second I saw him. Jorge...or Jose. Or Juan. Or Ricardo. Or Pedro. Or Jaime. Or Jesus. Or Enrique. But that's it. And that's all it could've been. I had that dude pegged." And indeed you did.

Get 15 Latino dudes in a room. Give each man one of those blue stickers that says, "Hello. My Name Is________." Explain to each of them what that means, and have them write down their names. If each sticker has a different name written on it, run for cover.

The Rapture has begun.

Bob Balaban must have got a ton of shit after 9/11.

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

Poor bastard. The man spends years establishing himself as a solid character actor. Little Man Tate, City Slickers 2 (The Legend of Curly's Gold). He perfects his craft, becomes a go-to guy, the type of actor a director can go to in a pinch, the type of actor an audience can take into its collective heart. It's "all good," as the kids say.

And then 9/11 happens. And it all goes to hell.

"Bob Balaban? You mean 'Balaban,' like rhymes with 'Taliban'? You son of a bitch."

"Hey Bob!" Yeah you, towel head! How's the splinter cell going, Bob? You make me sick."

"Hey you! Mr. 'Taliban!' I thought you were sub-par in 'Jakob the Liar.' Burn in hell."

While other, weaker men such as Carl Krommunist, John Flatzi, and Theodore Shmal-Aqsa Shmartyr's Brigade, all immediately ran to the local courthouse and had their names legally changed, Mr. Balaban has shown an uncommon level of bravery and poise in the face of such unfortunate hostility.

He truly is an American hero.

Goth kids are screwed if they sleep in.

Once you make the decision to go Goth, there's no going back. You can't just show up to class one day with a ponytail and sweatshirt after you've made your name as the kid with the fishnet arm wraps and dripping mascara. Getting prepped for the day has to take a good 20-30 minutes. And if your Robert Smith alarm doesn't go off? Forget it Johnny Despair, the 12 minutes it takes to lace up those 14in Dr. Martens are gonna make homeroom mighty tough to attend. Feel the gloom.

There's no way Helen Keller could become president in today's image-driven political scene.

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

It's really a pity the way the political machine runs these days. Gone are the days when platform and ideology were viewed as the most important aspects of a candidate. Without good looks and a smooth on-camera persona, a candidate today lies dead in the water.

Obviously, Ms. Keller and her less than photogenic nature would find obstacles in any bid she would make for a public office with wide exposure. I would imagine an image consultant or stylist would help her cause, but let's be honest, looks are not something you can just teach.

Sometimes you either got it or you don't.

Such a shame that the system has regressed to such a shallow and petty level.

Breadbox manufacturers owe a lot to 20 Questions.

Talk about a long run of free publicity and no-strings-attached product placement.

"I'm thinking of something."
"Is it bigger than a breadbox?"
"Yes."
"Is it an entertainment center?"
"No."
"And you're sure it's bigger than a breadbox?"
"Yes."
"Ok...hey, do you wanna go buy a new breadbox?"
"Sure, I was just about to ask you."

How did the breadbox become the de facto unit of size quantification? I can only assume it stemmed from some sort of early payola between the BB manufacturing concern and the Framers of 20 Questions. Subconscious advertising at its finest. I can't even begin to imagine the amount of impulse-bought breadboxes that have come out of all-night sessions of 20 Q's.

In hell, all I'll do is put fitted bed-sheets on mattresses.

Mattresses resting flush in the corner of a room. All day, every day. I can't think of anything more maddening. I hate fitted bed-sheets.

I'll have three corners locked down, but when I get to the fourth and final corner, the whole thing will snap back into the middle. For eternity.

Sisyphus will be laughing his ass off at me.

Bad Slam Poetry is hilarious.

"Woman..baby...dynamic potential. Womb torn, womb from Mother Earth, Earth mother brother, and I...and I....aye aye, eye to eye, the barometric pressshhhhaaahh, forever from the cosmos to the street, to the rhythm of the beat of my heart, Hart to Hart, all things must...start????" (brush my dreads to the side, blow out a red candle, drop the mike to the floor..the lights go down.)

I just wrote that in 40 seconds. Now I'm a Slam Poet. I hope to be on some sort of Jam or other def event in the near future.

Tab is my favorite keyboard-inspired drink.

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

No other soda, i.e "soft-drink," gets me more indented.

Hansen's (c) Num Lock is pretty good, but it has that strange aftertaste that is normally associated with Diet/Lite drinks. Mountain Dew's new Xtreme Pg Up Rush isn't half bad, but their commercials just don't dew it for me. I mean come on, I'm looking for a delicious keyboard-inspired drink, not to go rollerblading on a helicopter.

I also like Fresca.

"But seriously folks" is an excellent segue.

I ask you, is there any better way to change from a lighthearted, comical tone, to a serious, "let's get down to business" one? The answer to this last question is, no, there is not. "B.S.F" can be used in almost any situation where such a tonal switch is required. Have a peak behind the curtain...

Medical Conference: "Tongue depressor? I hardly knew her!...but seriously folks, malpractice suits are going to put all of us out of a job in the next 2 years."

Funeral Eulogy: "Sorry it took me so long to get the podium, but my wife was whining about how I never buy her anything nice!...but seriously folks, whenever teenage twins drown, there are no words to describe that much loss."

Evening News Broadcast: "Tongue depressor? I hardly knew her!...but seriously folks, the tragic drowning deaths of the Anderson twins has devastated this small, Minnesota suburb. We now go there live for a report and the eulogy."

See what I'm saying? Feel that sudden silence? Of course you do!...but seriously folks...

It's impossible to talk about baby corn without someone mentioning that scene in "Big."

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

Try it. I dare you. I'm standing in line at Soup Plantation, I put some on my salad, my friend says, "Hey remember that scene in 'Big'?" I'm at a Thai restaurant, the pad se eu comes with baby corns, my roommate says, "Remember when Tom Hanks ate those like it was a full corn on the cob?"

Yes, I do remember. Man, was it funny.

Did the original Soup Plantation have slaves?

Originally uploaded by eppyad.

I would wager yes, almost definitely. Up until Reconstruction, the majority of buffet-style, family restaurants were still running on traditional slave labor. Even after the Union Army's victory and the eventual dissipation of a strictly agararian economy, the Plantation's "serve-yourself, all-you-care-to-eat dining experience featuring the freshest vegetables, salads, made-from-scratch soups and muffins, hot pastas and more" carried on with an unspoken "don't ask, don't tell" indentured servitude.

Needless to say, service was excellent.

The Fortune Cookie industry needs a major overhaul.

I haven't got an actual fortune from one of these things in many a moon. They have become Statement Cookies. Pathetic. It's obvious that the guys who write for the cookie companies threw in the towel a long time ago, just phoned it in, basically saying, "You know, we don't have any idea about what is going to happen to you. And ya know what else, we're not gonna even try to guess. But here's a random statement for you that predicts nothing." Thanks for the effort team.

Someone has to come up with a set of Ultra-Specific Fortune Cookies, something to the tune of, "Next Thursday at 3 PM, you will see a man in a hat. Avoid this man at all costs." Think you'd give that dude on the corner in a fedora a second look?
Yeah, thought so.

This is a test of the Emergency "Blog"-Cast System.

Get it?!? Get it?!? See, what I did there for my first ever post, was to make a reference to The Emergency "Broadcast" System, but this being a blog, I replaced "broad" with the similar sounding but more pertinent "blog." Talk about a play on words! If I knew how, I might have added a sound effect similar to the "this is only a test" buzzing drone signal. That would have been audibly wacky!

As far as my reasons for setting up this blog, a friend had told me that the bandwagon had another space open for me to jump on, and so here I am. Does anyone care? No. Will anyone read this? Who knows. Like to see back to back rhetorical questions? You're welcome.