Andrew Hilbert's Blog, page 9
February 23, 2017
I ignored the news for a week. Here's what I did instead.
Ugh, the news. Am I right? Sheesh. I ignored the news for a week. Here's what I did instead.
1. I stared at my college aged neighbors as they drank their cheap beer and threw cigarette butts at my cat. I couldn't figure out if they were G-men disguised as aimless youth or if they were just aimless youth. But I live behind a cell tower so they must be part of Trump's hostile takeover of my tiny neighborhood.
2. I read the neighborhood updates in NextDoor. A lot of people sell vitamins. I decided to stock up. Even though I wasn't reading the news, I was sure the world was collapsing. I could see Russians everywhere. What if the vitamin salespeople were part of a Russian conspiracy to turn American frogs gay and turn Americans into frog-fucking weirdos.
4. I went on a strict beans only diet for half a day because I couldn't figure out what to do with the other half of the day without news. This at least set me up with a date shitting my brains out on the toilet. My toilet isn't yet Wi-Fi connected so the sound of Joe Scarborough leveraging his laughably short term as a Florida representative as evidence he knows everything about politics and people. Get over it, Joe. You know as much about politics as you know about guitar and you won't shut the fuck up about that either.
5. I wrote poetry about things nobody else knows like how much more enlightened I am because I read articles on Medium.com. Here's a stanza:
I'm not reading articles on medium
Right now
Because I read an article on medium
About how much better life is when you fast
From the news
Fuck the news
FUCK the news
I said
Fuck the news
Also,
I skipped
A
Number
6. I enjoyed the little things like putting ants under a magnifying glass delighting in my power to end worlds and steadily progressed from insects to fish, back to insects, then fish, then merely contemplating mammals, but ultimately sticking to insects.
7. I became an artisinal hot dog encaser. I read about it on medium. Opened an Etsy.
1. I stared at my college aged neighbors as they drank their cheap beer and threw cigarette butts at my cat. I couldn't figure out if they were G-men disguised as aimless youth or if they were just aimless youth. But I live behind a cell tower so they must be part of Trump's hostile takeover of my tiny neighborhood.
2. I read the neighborhood updates in NextDoor. A lot of people sell vitamins. I decided to stock up. Even though I wasn't reading the news, I was sure the world was collapsing. I could see Russians everywhere. What if the vitamin salespeople were part of a Russian conspiracy to turn American frogs gay and turn Americans into frog-fucking weirdos.
4. I went on a strict beans only diet for half a day because I couldn't figure out what to do with the other half of the day without news. This at least set me up with a date shitting my brains out on the toilet. My toilet isn't yet Wi-Fi connected so the sound of Joe Scarborough leveraging his laughably short term as a Florida representative as evidence he knows everything about politics and people. Get over it, Joe. You know as much about politics as you know about guitar and you won't shut the fuck up about that either.
5. I wrote poetry about things nobody else knows like how much more enlightened I am because I read articles on Medium.com. Here's a stanza:
I'm not reading articles on medium
Right now
Because I read an article on medium
About how much better life is when you fast
From the news
Fuck the news
FUCK the news
I said
Fuck the news
Also,
I skipped
A
Number
6. I enjoyed the little things like putting ants under a magnifying glass delighting in my power to end worlds and steadily progressed from insects to fish, back to insects, then fish, then merely contemplating mammals, but ultimately sticking to insects.
7. I became an artisinal hot dog encaser. I read about it on medium. Opened an Etsy.
February 20, 2017
Notable President's Day Sales Throughout History
President's Day is a day for Americans to reflect on a long, unbroken chain of exceptional sales throughout our nation's history. Here are just a few to think about while your flip flops gently flap against your disgusting feet, you no good, jobless hippie.
1. Tom's Feed Store Half Off grain sale of 1800.
Tom was a simple man. In fact, sales on President's Day can be traced all the way back to him. Grain was in abundance thanks to the great trade war of 1798. While skinning a cat, halfway through Tom thought, "this cat's half off just like my grain sale!" And thus, the first Geico commercial was born. It was a hit with the local folk so much so that Tom came up with new door busters every year until he died at the hand of a coward who shot him in the back and took his lady.
2. Millard Filmore hosts a cheese and wine bacchanal at his local 7-11.
President's Day sales at 7-11 are no longer common because a Japanese conglomerate now owns it. They have Emperor Respect Holy Time Forever Deluxe Extra Special Day across the puddle, as they say. But in old F-more's day, they were quite common. Where Millard wanted a Slim Jim and some Barefoot wine, he'd call his donkey and they'd ride to 7-11. The manager got a great idea to throw a party every time the President came in on President's Day. If you bought the President some Hot Cheetos, Skittles, and some High Life, you got a free scratch off and an extra portion of nacho cheese. Needless to say, condoms were invented shortly after this tradition started.
3. George HW Bush sacrifices a baby at a WalMart
Surprisingly little is known about why HW did sacrifice a baby at a Walmart on President's Day but Walmart accountants reported a tenfold increase in sales of microwaveable chicken nuggets. HW never repeated the act but did honor the baby by making macaroni portraits of it every President's Day thereafter.
Happy Trump Day everyone!
1. Tom's Feed Store Half Off grain sale of 1800.
Tom was a simple man. In fact, sales on President's Day can be traced all the way back to him. Grain was in abundance thanks to the great trade war of 1798. While skinning a cat, halfway through Tom thought, "this cat's half off just like my grain sale!" And thus, the first Geico commercial was born. It was a hit with the local folk so much so that Tom came up with new door busters every year until he died at the hand of a coward who shot him in the back and took his lady.
2. Millard Filmore hosts a cheese and wine bacchanal at his local 7-11.
President's Day sales at 7-11 are no longer common because a Japanese conglomerate now owns it. They have Emperor Respect Holy Time Forever Deluxe Extra Special Day across the puddle, as they say. But in old F-more's day, they were quite common. Where Millard wanted a Slim Jim and some Barefoot wine, he'd call his donkey and they'd ride to 7-11. The manager got a great idea to throw a party every time the President came in on President's Day. If you bought the President some Hot Cheetos, Skittles, and some High Life, you got a free scratch off and an extra portion of nacho cheese. Needless to say, condoms were invented shortly after this tradition started.
3. George HW Bush sacrifices a baby at a WalMart
Surprisingly little is known about why HW did sacrifice a baby at a Walmart on President's Day but Walmart accountants reported a tenfold increase in sales of microwaveable chicken nuggets. HW never repeated the act but did honor the baby by making macaroni portraits of it every President's Day thereafter.
Happy Trump Day everyone!
February 12, 2017
Just in time for Valentine's Day! Love advice!
Tired of all the happy couples strolling around town, holding hands, and having public sex at every Jack In The Box dining room they can find? You don't have to be jealous! You can do it, too! Why go for regular fries when you can get super crispy, ultra sexy?
1. Stick a dirty sock in your love interest's back pocket. Make sure to write your phone number with a note that says, "Lost sock! If found, call (###)###-####." They'll call and you can say, "Hey, I know a great place that serves crispy fries. I know the owner. His name is Jack. Jack Inthebox."
2. Like photos of them from their college days at least four years ago on Facebook. Be sure to get the likes up to the double digits. This will blow up their phone and they will be forced to find out who is giving them so much wonderful attention! Just like Singing in the Rain!
3. Insert yourself into their memories! This is very important. If they say, "One time when I was at McDonald's this old lady asked me to wipe her ass for her." You say, "No, no, no. I was there. It was at a Jack in the Box and there was no old lady. It was me."
4. Find the tallest building in town. Climb to the top with a very large poster of your love interest's face. With a loudspeaker say, "DON'T MAKE ME JUMP FOR YOUR LOVE!" This will guilt them into at least one fish sandwich at Jack In The Box. And if fish isn't on the menu, maybe you can give them a little kiss.
5. Continually submit missed connections to your love interest on craigslist. Make them very specific like: "Barney Gumble, I am your co-worker, Zenith MacTastrophe. I am in love with you and would very much like to treat you to a couple of buttermilk ranch packets at Jack In The Box. I know the fry cook. He can give me them without charging ten cents."
6. Buy a wedding ring and wear it around. Unprompted, tell people it's a motivational wedding ring. Point to your love interest and say, "I'm going to marry that bitch right there."
7. Be exotic. Whenever possible, embellish your talents and interests. If someone asks you what your favorite animal is, say, "My unyielding sex drive. I masturbate ten times a day." If someone asks you what your favorite food is, say, "The dogs that are constantly chasing me in my dreams." If someone asks you why you're calling them at midnight, just breathe very heavily into the phone until you cry.
Equipped with these tips and tricks, you'll find yourself eating from the brunch menu at Jack in the Box for two!
1. Stick a dirty sock in your love interest's back pocket. Make sure to write your phone number with a note that says, "Lost sock! If found, call (###)###-####." They'll call and you can say, "Hey, I know a great place that serves crispy fries. I know the owner. His name is Jack. Jack Inthebox."
2. Like photos of them from their college days at least four years ago on Facebook. Be sure to get the likes up to the double digits. This will blow up their phone and they will be forced to find out who is giving them so much wonderful attention! Just like Singing in the Rain!
3. Insert yourself into their memories! This is very important. If they say, "One time when I was at McDonald's this old lady asked me to wipe her ass for her." You say, "No, no, no. I was there. It was at a Jack in the Box and there was no old lady. It was me."
4. Find the tallest building in town. Climb to the top with a very large poster of your love interest's face. With a loudspeaker say, "DON'T MAKE ME JUMP FOR YOUR LOVE!" This will guilt them into at least one fish sandwich at Jack In The Box. And if fish isn't on the menu, maybe you can give them a little kiss.
5. Continually submit missed connections to your love interest on craigslist. Make them very specific like: "Barney Gumble, I am your co-worker, Zenith MacTastrophe. I am in love with you and would very much like to treat you to a couple of buttermilk ranch packets at Jack In The Box. I know the fry cook. He can give me them without charging ten cents."
6. Buy a wedding ring and wear it around. Unprompted, tell people it's a motivational wedding ring. Point to your love interest and say, "I'm going to marry that bitch right there."
7. Be exotic. Whenever possible, embellish your talents and interests. If someone asks you what your favorite animal is, say, "My unyielding sex drive. I masturbate ten times a day." If someone asks you what your favorite food is, say, "The dogs that are constantly chasing me in my dreams." If someone asks you why you're calling them at midnight, just breathe very heavily into the phone until you cry.
Equipped with these tips and tricks, you'll find yourself eating from the brunch menu at Jack in the Box for two!
February 10, 2017
Invasion of the Weirdos Cover Reveal
Howdy.
Luke Spooner whipped up quite a cover for Invasion of the Weirdos. Check it out. Keep your eyes in their sockets for April because that's when Perpetual Motion Machine Publishing is unleashing this puppy into the world.
Luke Spooner whipped up quite a cover for Invasion of the Weirdos. Check it out. Keep your eyes in their sockets for April because that's when Perpetual Motion Machine Publishing is unleashing this puppy into the world.
February 9, 2017
Violence
There's a debate raging among liberals. All sides of this argument are generally well-meaning; after all, this current political climate is being framed as a righteous holy war by BOTH SIDES. When you're righteous, how could you be wrong? Punching a Nazi seems so right.
I hate to say it, but it just ain't. First, let's just get into the stupid game of semantics. Nazi has a definition. Who gets to decide that definition and does the definition expand based on who the puncher feels morally outraged at?
Let's separate that cretin Spencer from the question. What if it was just some guy who said something off color? Is he a Nazi? Does he get a punch in the face? Does a racist comment put you in league with Nazis, who were a historical political party that advocated for racial extermination? I hate Nazis. I hate racists. But the idea that people can be lumped in with one of the most evil historical organizations is ludicrous.
That guy Spencer is a Neo-Nazi by any observer with a brain. He's a white supremacist that believes in "peaceful genocide" which is absolutely stupid because forcible removal from territory based on race is one of the definitions of genocide. There is no peaceful genocide. It's just genocide. In my heart, I would get immense satisfaction from punching that Neo-Nazi in the face. But let's get down to the heart of the matter.
I am a white male who bears little to no consequence for punching him the face and running away. Who gets the blame for this violence? The people Neo-Nazis, white supremacists, and fascists hate. They get blamed for the violence. Violence affirms their irrational fear. All they need is one good lie. For the actual Nazis, it was the Reichstag fire. For the Nazis emboldened by our Idiot President, it could be a well-placed punch. It could be a death at a rally. It could be another burning building. It won't even matter who did it. If liberals cede the moral high ground and start saying violence is okay when fighting hateful rhetoric, they win. They can manipulate any act of violence at one of their gatherings and make minorities pay tenfold.
But, you say, we defeated Nazis in World War II with violence. War is war, y'all. People get killed. I'm no pacifist. I believe wars can be necessary even if the moral justification isn't the real justification for war. World War II was necessary. Stopping genocide, though, was not why FDR went in. We knew a genocide was going on and we waited to get bombed by Japan. Genocide was far from the top justification for war. It was one of the justifications but it was not the top.
But, you say, Captain America is always punching Nazis. Yes, that's true. Captain America is fiction and I love watching his knuckles break jaws. But because he is fiction, things usually go Captain America's way. Captain America can punch a Nazi and the enemy is vanquished. Unfortunately, it is my belief that when one Nazi is punched, you've created two more. That imbecile Spencer uses getting punched as propaganda. All he needs to do is say, "See! Look, they are uncivilized! They are to be feared!" and all of the sudden you get your regular run-of-the-mill racist idiot lacing up his combat boots.
There's a lot of Monday morning quarterbacking going on. Many people are saying Bernie would have won. That may be true and, as a Clinton supporter, I tend to agree that Bernie may have had a better chance of making inroads with the working class in the Rust Belt. But liberals are also saying that everyone who voted for Trump is a white supremacist, racist, fascist, Nazi sympathizing idiot. If that were true, a Jewish Democratic Socialist would have fared no better against a resurgent white supremacist movement. I do not believe everyone who voted for Trump is a racist. They cast their vote for the wrong person, yes. But to lump them all into the racist category means there are a whole lot of faces to be punched and I don't see any of my white male friends who are buying t-shirts and pins and posting memes about punching faces doing that.
I believe in freedom of speech. I am an ACLU supporter. I hate racism and I deplore Nazis, Neo-Nazis, Fascists, etc. But as an ACLU supporter I have to stomach some shit.
I also believe in the paradox of free speech. A moron speaking will betray his own intellect. Loons talking crazy will be ignored. If we didn't spend so much time labeling Milo as the most dangerous writer, he wouldn't be perceived as the most dangerous writer and therefore forbidden and desired. He's at the top of the charts. His base of followers is minuscule compared the mainstream but the mainstream gets lapped up in righteous fury bring attention him. That's what he wants. That's his whole brand. He annoys liberals. We can't waste any time playing into these profiteers' machinations anymore.
We are in troubling times. Liberals have a tendency to eat each alive. I am not writing this to cast any judgement on any of my friends who believe that these times call for violence. I just ask that we separate our moral outrage from our action. Don't give any ammunition to the other side to create their own Reichstag fire. Their worldview requires your violence. And think about what your violence and your advocacy of violence means for people who aren't white.
If you don't agree with me, that's fine. Let's talk. I promise I won't punch you in the face.
I hate to say it, but it just ain't. First, let's just get into the stupid game of semantics. Nazi has a definition. Who gets to decide that definition and does the definition expand based on who the puncher feels morally outraged at?
Let's separate that cretin Spencer from the question. What if it was just some guy who said something off color? Is he a Nazi? Does he get a punch in the face? Does a racist comment put you in league with Nazis, who were a historical political party that advocated for racial extermination? I hate Nazis. I hate racists. But the idea that people can be lumped in with one of the most evil historical organizations is ludicrous.
That guy Spencer is a Neo-Nazi by any observer with a brain. He's a white supremacist that believes in "peaceful genocide" which is absolutely stupid because forcible removal from territory based on race is one of the definitions of genocide. There is no peaceful genocide. It's just genocide. In my heart, I would get immense satisfaction from punching that Neo-Nazi in the face. But let's get down to the heart of the matter.
I am a white male who bears little to no consequence for punching him the face and running away. Who gets the blame for this violence? The people Neo-Nazis, white supremacists, and fascists hate. They get blamed for the violence. Violence affirms their irrational fear. All they need is one good lie. For the actual Nazis, it was the Reichstag fire. For the Nazis emboldened by our Idiot President, it could be a well-placed punch. It could be a death at a rally. It could be another burning building. It won't even matter who did it. If liberals cede the moral high ground and start saying violence is okay when fighting hateful rhetoric, they win. They can manipulate any act of violence at one of their gatherings and make minorities pay tenfold.
But, you say, we defeated Nazis in World War II with violence. War is war, y'all. People get killed. I'm no pacifist. I believe wars can be necessary even if the moral justification isn't the real justification for war. World War II was necessary. Stopping genocide, though, was not why FDR went in. We knew a genocide was going on and we waited to get bombed by Japan. Genocide was far from the top justification for war. It was one of the justifications but it was not the top.
But, you say, Captain America is always punching Nazis. Yes, that's true. Captain America is fiction and I love watching his knuckles break jaws. But because he is fiction, things usually go Captain America's way. Captain America can punch a Nazi and the enemy is vanquished. Unfortunately, it is my belief that when one Nazi is punched, you've created two more. That imbecile Spencer uses getting punched as propaganda. All he needs to do is say, "See! Look, they are uncivilized! They are to be feared!" and all of the sudden you get your regular run-of-the-mill racist idiot lacing up his combat boots.
There's a lot of Monday morning quarterbacking going on. Many people are saying Bernie would have won. That may be true and, as a Clinton supporter, I tend to agree that Bernie may have had a better chance of making inroads with the working class in the Rust Belt. But liberals are also saying that everyone who voted for Trump is a white supremacist, racist, fascist, Nazi sympathizing idiot. If that were true, a Jewish Democratic Socialist would have fared no better against a resurgent white supremacist movement. I do not believe everyone who voted for Trump is a racist. They cast their vote for the wrong person, yes. But to lump them all into the racist category means there are a whole lot of faces to be punched and I don't see any of my white male friends who are buying t-shirts and pins and posting memes about punching faces doing that.
I believe in freedom of speech. I am an ACLU supporter. I hate racism and I deplore Nazis, Neo-Nazis, Fascists, etc. But as an ACLU supporter I have to stomach some shit.
I also believe in the paradox of free speech. A moron speaking will betray his own intellect. Loons talking crazy will be ignored. If we didn't spend so much time labeling Milo as the most dangerous writer, he wouldn't be perceived as the most dangerous writer and therefore forbidden and desired. He's at the top of the charts. His base of followers is minuscule compared the mainstream but the mainstream gets lapped up in righteous fury bring attention him. That's what he wants. That's his whole brand. He annoys liberals. We can't waste any time playing into these profiteers' machinations anymore.
We are in troubling times. Liberals have a tendency to eat each alive. I am not writing this to cast any judgement on any of my friends who believe that these times call for violence. I just ask that we separate our moral outrage from our action. Don't give any ammunition to the other side to create their own Reichstag fire. Their worldview requires your violence. And think about what your violence and your advocacy of violence means for people who aren't white.
If you don't agree with me, that's fine. Let's talk. I promise I won't punch you in the face.
February 7, 2017
Scientifically Proven, Time-Tested Advice On How to Get Your Workplace Happy Again From Leading Synergy Experts!
Hey there, folks! Welcome to another episode of Synergetic Happiness Strategies or SyHaSt, for short and stupid!
We here at SyHaSt like to think that you like to think we're experts. We like that we like to think that you like to think that! It gives us that sweet, sweet, exposure on the Influencer Markets which rates Pure Bullshits with Unadulterated Profitability! And we want you to profit!
Here are some time-tested ways to get your office happy again.
1. The boss gots to bring a TUNA SALAD and leave in the office refrigerator! Your commoner workfolk will point fingers about the smell for WEEKS at each other. But here's the best part, nobody will clean it up! The smell will get so bad that they avoid lunch breaks altogether and their paranoia and suspicions will stop them from talking to each other when they should be SHITTING OUT EXCEL SPREADSHEETS FOR YOU, the BOSS!
2. Call in the same person to your office every day. Stare at their eyes in silence. When they start to shift uncomfortably or fidget like they're about to get up just shake your head very, very slowly without averting your gaze. After about fifteen minutes, laugh like he just told the best racist joke you ever heard and slap him on the back as you walk him out of the office. To him, it's a power move. You neuter him on the reg. To your workfolk, it's a sign of favoritism. They will bite each other's butt holes to get into that room with you. Look around the office. Everyone is happy. Everyone has a job. There are no robots coming yet.
3. Fire the coffee boy. Nobody needs a coffee boy in the world of automation. Have you ever heard of a little machine called MR. COFFEE? Put a sign next to it that says, "CAN'T WAIT TO BUY A MR. WORKER!"
4. Choose the most inept employee to scream out, "Hey, Bud! How are you liking that little raise, huh? Should help with your little coke problem!" This creates competition among your workers. Your spreadsheets will look fabulous. Regional is going to love you!
5. Stop showing up altogether. Instead, install 40 inch Vizio HDTVs all over the office with your face Skyped in, eyes darting around, saying things like, "Good, good, good. Bad, bad, bad. FUCK!" Lead office wide jumping jacks but do not participate. Complain that MR. COFFEE does a better job than any of its human counterparts. Announce your intention to turn this regional sales office into a MR. COFFEE coffee shop. A self-serve coffee shop. You'd make more money and you'd be jumping on the trend to de-bohemianize everything. It's coming.
Hope you enjoyed our advice from Leading Synergy Efficiency Experts. Remember, a happy worker is one with a job.
Check out the last post
February 6, 2017
Super Size Me changed the world
Hey, look! A video and a text post! If you hate waiting through videos, just read the post. If you hate reading, watch the video. If you can't read, fuck you! You can't read this anyways!
Morgan Spurlock changed the world when he released Super Size Me.
The motherfucker doesn't even know it. Now he runs around in a fat suit and cries more when people recognize him than when they don't.
But that one glorious moment in 2004 changed the world. This was when John Kerry holding-in-a-fart voice still seemed to have a chance at annoying global leaders as the "leader of the free world." Well, friends. Morgan Spurlock made the world a little less free.
I go to McDonald's now and I see nutrition information. I look at the low calorie options and think, "Holy shit, the salad has 500 calories and the Big Mac meal only has 700. That's only 200 more for something that I actually stepped into a fucking McDonald's for."
When I was a kid I always ordered super size fries. Now I look into the mirror and say, "It could be worse."
What I'm saying is that movie is responsible for fast food chains even bothering with salads. It's also responsible for John Kerry forcing his wife to step down from the Heinz cartel. And now a fast food slogging flesh robot is President.
I love fast food.
Let me tell you how Morgan Spurlock changed the world.
In 2004, we were okay. We fucked up with George W. Bush but we were on our way to correcting it. Ol' Johnny Burp Vocals was putting crowds into intense trances all throughout the campaign.
Then this fucking movie comes along and wakes up the sleeping demons of the American electorate. We're not going to give up our goddamn fast food but we had to put up with the morning shows following every dildo who "disproved" that Morgan Spurlock couldn't get a boner anymore after eating McDonald's for thirty days. Some of these people included a person who ate McDonald's for a week and exercised. Not exactly following a similar regimen but, sure, go ahead Mr. Fartknocker. Prove to the world you still look like no American ever with your goddamned muscles and your smug self satisfaction.
We were inundated with this shit.
We went to McDonald's for an escape and what the hell were we confronted with? We were confronted with banners proclaiming that they had salads and nutritional information available upon request. They also added the great feature of getting rid of the super size.
Friends, this made us irritable. This made us question our neighbor's political lawn sign. This made us vote for other candidates out of spite. This caused us to throw rocks at each other. We sat at opposite ends of the McDonald's dining room and stared holes into each other's hearts. We went mad.
We just wanted to eat in peace, knowing full well we were doing the equivalent of smoking cigarettes. It was useless escapism. It was a small middle finger to death but a huge 'fuck you' to life. More than the teenager drinking shitty beer, we were teenagers truly living on the edge. We were eating Chicken McNuggets and more than the daily recommended amount at that!
You know who else was eating at McDonald's?
Donald Trump.
Yeah, that Donald Trump.
Guess what he was doing?
Getting as angry as we all were.
Nobody wants a fucking salad, Morgan Spurlock. If I wanted a healthy cigarette, I'd be wearing hemp sandals, listening to Bob Marley, and smoking weed. We knew what we wanted.
Now we have Donald Trump, a product of our fast food wars. He's the pink slime of chicken nuggets left uncooked for too long and became sentient; a perfect amalgamation of our collective hatred for each other.
By getting rid of the super size, you fuck, you created a super super big league size. And now we're all eating salad at McDonald's. Get it? It means we're eating shit. We don't want to eat it.
Morgan Spurlock changed the world when he released Super Size Me.
The motherfucker doesn't even know it. Now he runs around in a fat suit and cries more when people recognize him than when they don't.
But that one glorious moment in 2004 changed the world. This was when John Kerry holding-in-a-fart voice still seemed to have a chance at annoying global leaders as the "leader of the free world." Well, friends. Morgan Spurlock made the world a little less free.
I go to McDonald's now and I see nutrition information. I look at the low calorie options and think, "Holy shit, the salad has 500 calories and the Big Mac meal only has 700. That's only 200 more for something that I actually stepped into a fucking McDonald's for."
When I was a kid I always ordered super size fries. Now I look into the mirror and say, "It could be worse."
What I'm saying is that movie is responsible for fast food chains even bothering with salads. It's also responsible for John Kerry forcing his wife to step down from the Heinz cartel. And now a fast food slogging flesh robot is President.
I love fast food.
Let me tell you how Morgan Spurlock changed the world.
In 2004, we were okay. We fucked up with George W. Bush but we were on our way to correcting it. Ol' Johnny Burp Vocals was putting crowds into intense trances all throughout the campaign.
Then this fucking movie comes along and wakes up the sleeping demons of the American electorate. We're not going to give up our goddamn fast food but we had to put up with the morning shows following every dildo who "disproved" that Morgan Spurlock couldn't get a boner anymore after eating McDonald's for thirty days. Some of these people included a person who ate McDonald's for a week and exercised. Not exactly following a similar regimen but, sure, go ahead Mr. Fartknocker. Prove to the world you still look like no American ever with your goddamned muscles and your smug self satisfaction.
We were inundated with this shit.
We went to McDonald's for an escape and what the hell were we confronted with? We were confronted with banners proclaiming that they had salads and nutritional information available upon request. They also added the great feature of getting rid of the super size.
Friends, this made us irritable. This made us question our neighbor's political lawn sign. This made us vote for other candidates out of spite. This caused us to throw rocks at each other. We sat at opposite ends of the McDonald's dining room and stared holes into each other's hearts. We went mad.
We just wanted to eat in peace, knowing full well we were doing the equivalent of smoking cigarettes. It was useless escapism. It was a small middle finger to death but a huge 'fuck you' to life. More than the teenager drinking shitty beer, we were teenagers truly living on the edge. We were eating Chicken McNuggets and more than the daily recommended amount at that!
You know who else was eating at McDonald's?
Donald Trump.
Yeah, that Donald Trump.
Guess what he was doing?
Getting as angry as we all were.
Nobody wants a fucking salad, Morgan Spurlock. If I wanted a healthy cigarette, I'd be wearing hemp sandals, listening to Bob Marley, and smoking weed. We knew what we wanted.
Now we have Donald Trump, a product of our fast food wars. He's the pink slime of chicken nuggets left uncooked for too long and became sentient; a perfect amalgamation of our collective hatred for each other.
By getting rid of the super size, you fuck, you created a super super big league size. And now we're all eating salad at McDonald's. Get it? It means we're eating shit. We don't want to eat it.
February 2, 2017
Executive Order
I found this website on a friend's Facebook profile. It's an executive order generator.
Here are a few of mine. I'll probably sprinkle these here and there randomly to keep things fun and light-hearted and not at all miserable.
Obviously, President Trump is a fucking liar. Aerith is dead. STEVE BANNON KILLED HER.
Nice poem there.
The original release. Not the ten year anniversary that included, "Superstar Punani." Although Trump loves that track, he thinks it best to stay on their beloved collection of b-sides, "Secondhand Smoke." That whole album is now the theme song to The Wire.
Happy February!
Here are a few of mine. I'll probably sprinkle these here and there randomly to keep things fun and light-hearted and not at all miserable.
Obviously, President Trump is a fucking liar. Aerith is dead. STEVE BANNON KILLED HER.
Nice poem there.
The original release. Not the ten year anniversary that included, "Superstar Punani." Although Trump loves that track, he thinks it best to stay on their beloved collection of b-sides, "Secondhand Smoke." That whole album is now the theme song to The Wire.
Happy February!
January 31, 2017
The Simpsons and How They Embiggened Me: Season 1, Episode 3
Homer's Odyssey
Chalkboard gag: I will not skateboard in the halls. (They really weren't even going for jokes at this point)
Couch gag: The Simpsons crowd in and the couch falls apart.
Bart's class is taking a field trip and Krabappel implores the children to behave, especially Bart after the incident at the Springfield state prison field trip. Very 90s joke. Schools are prisons. Schools are underfunded and have to go on field trips to prisons.
Otto, who is introduced with the dialogue, "Party hardy equals tardy." Bart asks if Otto has any new tattoos and Otto says he woke up with a new one on his arm. This is a very interesting episode in terms of chronology. Bart states that he wants a tattoo (Otto responsibly says, "Not until you're 14, little man.") but we already know Bart GOT a tattoo during the Christmas special.
You'll notice that Santa's Little Helper has also not appeared since the Christmas special. That's because the Christmas special was the first to air but most the episodes that follow it on the broadcast schedule were written and completed prior to the Christmas special. Thus, Bart wishing for a tattoo and the complete lack of Santa's Little Helper makes sense. We can all stop sitting on our hemorrhoids now that that's cleared up.
Wendell. Everyone knows a kid like Wendell. When Bart sits next to him on the bus, he states with his hands over his stomach, "Please try not to shake the seat like that." I knew a kid named Danny who was kind of like Wendell when I was in Kindergarten through second grade. Danny had a major problem. He sneezed a lot and every time he sneezed more than his weight in snot came out of his nose. This is no joke. The viscosity of his snot was incredible, too. Even at such a young age and total ignorance of the science behind it, I was impressed by viscosity! I sometimes wonder whatever happened to Danny and his sneezing problem. Hopefully he didn't become the kind of guy who sniffs people's feet as they sleep on the bus. I hate those guys.
A lot of Bart's misbehaving in these early episodes are normal, class clown kinds of hi jinx. Later, Bart becomes a little more criminal but for now, Bart makes jokes about losing his arm right after Krabappel warns the kids not to stick their hands out of the window. She rightly calls it "tomfoolery" because that's all it is this early in the Simpsons' life. This joke makes a reappearance in another episode in the first or second season and it's told by the one-armed arms dealer whose name escapes me.
As the bus drives, we become acquainted with Springfield's landmarks: the toxic waste dump, the Springfield Tire Yard, the Springfield State Prison, and the Springfield Elementary School - Otto's shortcut.
The animation is pretty rudimentary compared to later seasons. You'll notice the representation of Bart's height changes pretty damn frequently. Also, the students 'extras' look like Schoolhouse Rock characters.
I never knew twins growing up but Sherry and Terry are how I imagined them all to be. Bart's disgusted by the twins kissing him and he screams, getting him in trouble, and forcing him to sing "John Henry Was A Steel Driving Man" to the bus. A weird punishment for the teacher we know in later seasons to be almost completely resigned to utter indifference towards Bart or any of her other students for that matter.
Wendell makes the bus ride without vomiting up until the point Bart points out that he did and, like every Wil E. Coyote cartoon wherein the characters don't fall until they realize they should be falling, Wendell spews.
Notice: this is our first introduction to Waylon Smithers and he's black with gray hair. He's teaching the kids about nuclear power and how they run everything from, "your video games to yummy cotton candy machines." The jokes are very cynical and, for whatever reason, feel very 90s to me. It's very Generation X. My uncle is an X'er and throughout my memory of him he could carry on whole conversations consisting of only Simpsons quotes. I very much associate this early period of the Simpsons with my uncle and dad making little cracks about the Simpsons around the dinner table while we ate In-N-Out. That's an all-American pastime, isn't it?
Smilin' Joe Fission is an animated cartoon that explains nuclear energy. It's drawn to look like it's super old and from the 70s. However, it's hard to separate that parody of animation with the style and quality of animation of these early Simpsons episodes.
It's also the first appearance of Blinky, the famous Springfield three-eyed fish.
Jesus Christ, I've written too much and I'm only 5 minutes into the episode. This calls for Jesus Christ.
Even though Homer is portrayed as a lazy, donut eating, fat ass... Homer seems halfway competent at his job than he is portrayed in later seasons. He does cause an accident and he does get fired but there is something about him in that golf cart that makes him seem like he knows what he's doing. It's stupid, I know, because everyone I ever knew that rode around in a golf cart not on a golf course was mentally insane and terminally lazy. There was a kid on my baseball team whose dad used to ride around on a golf cart. I remember seeing him get pulled over right in front of the Carl's Jr. he was about to patronize on it. It was ridiculous. Why Homer in a golf cart makes me feel he's okay at his job, I have no idea. Maybe it's because he cares how he's perceived by Bart immediately before Bart arrives and as he gets fired. Maybe Homer's early season sentimentality makes him feel like a more competent person overall.
Lisa reads classified ads to Homer. Notice something; Homer's head is like a goddamned balloon at the top. What was with these animators? There is no consistency scene to scene for any of the characters.
Look at that melon. It's unnatural. It's hard to look at. It's like watching the Afghan rip off of the Simpsons.
"I've never done anything worthwhile in my life. I'm a big worthless nothing."
"You're right! I'm young, I'm able-bodied, and I'll take anything! Watch out, Springfield. Here I come."
This is still early Simpsons finding its footing. The Simpsons were able to break free of Sam Simon's sitcom formula later precisely because of their early success abiding it. They built audience trust with their ordinariness. Without a first season as grounded in traditional TV early on, we may not be talking about them today.
After two years, this blogging project is back.
Chalkboard gag: I will not skateboard in the halls. (They really weren't even going for jokes at this point)
Couch gag: The Simpsons crowd in and the couch falls apart.
Bart's class is taking a field trip and Krabappel implores the children to behave, especially Bart after the incident at the Springfield state prison field trip. Very 90s joke. Schools are prisons. Schools are underfunded and have to go on field trips to prisons.
Otto, who is introduced with the dialogue, "Party hardy equals tardy." Bart asks if Otto has any new tattoos and Otto says he woke up with a new one on his arm. This is a very interesting episode in terms of chronology. Bart states that he wants a tattoo (Otto responsibly says, "Not until you're 14, little man.") but we already know Bart GOT a tattoo during the Christmas special.
You'll notice that Santa's Little Helper has also not appeared since the Christmas special. That's because the Christmas special was the first to air but most the episodes that follow it on the broadcast schedule were written and completed prior to the Christmas special. Thus, Bart wishing for a tattoo and the complete lack of Santa's Little Helper makes sense. We can all stop sitting on our hemorrhoids now that that's cleared up.
Wendell. Everyone knows a kid like Wendell. When Bart sits next to him on the bus, he states with his hands over his stomach, "Please try not to shake the seat like that." I knew a kid named Danny who was kind of like Wendell when I was in Kindergarten through second grade. Danny had a major problem. He sneezed a lot and every time he sneezed more than his weight in snot came out of his nose. This is no joke. The viscosity of his snot was incredible, too. Even at such a young age and total ignorance of the science behind it, I was impressed by viscosity! I sometimes wonder whatever happened to Danny and his sneezing problem. Hopefully he didn't become the kind of guy who sniffs people's feet as they sleep on the bus. I hate those guys.
A lot of Bart's misbehaving in these early episodes are normal, class clown kinds of hi jinx. Later, Bart becomes a little more criminal but for now, Bart makes jokes about losing his arm right after Krabappel warns the kids not to stick their hands out of the window. She rightly calls it "tomfoolery" because that's all it is this early in the Simpsons' life. This joke makes a reappearance in another episode in the first or second season and it's told by the one-armed arms dealer whose name escapes me.
As the bus drives, we become acquainted with Springfield's landmarks: the toxic waste dump, the Springfield Tire Yard, the Springfield State Prison, and the Springfield Elementary School - Otto's shortcut.
The animation is pretty rudimentary compared to later seasons. You'll notice the representation of Bart's height changes pretty damn frequently. Also, the students 'extras' look like Schoolhouse Rock characters.
I never knew twins growing up but Sherry and Terry are how I imagined them all to be. Bart's disgusted by the twins kissing him and he screams, getting him in trouble, and forcing him to sing "John Henry Was A Steel Driving Man" to the bus. A weird punishment for the teacher we know in later seasons to be almost completely resigned to utter indifference towards Bart or any of her other students for that matter.
Wendell makes the bus ride without vomiting up until the point Bart points out that he did and, like every Wil E. Coyote cartoon wherein the characters don't fall until they realize they should be falling, Wendell spews.
Notice: this is our first introduction to Waylon Smithers and he's black with gray hair. He's teaching the kids about nuclear power and how they run everything from, "your video games to yummy cotton candy machines." The jokes are very cynical and, for whatever reason, feel very 90s to me. It's very Generation X. My uncle is an X'er and throughout my memory of him he could carry on whole conversations consisting of only Simpsons quotes. I very much associate this early period of the Simpsons with my uncle and dad making little cracks about the Simpsons around the dinner table while we ate In-N-Out. That's an all-American pastime, isn't it?
Smilin' Joe Fission is an animated cartoon that explains nuclear energy. It's drawn to look like it's super old and from the 70s. However, it's hard to separate that parody of animation with the style and quality of animation of these early Simpsons episodes.
It's also the first appearance of Blinky, the famous Springfield three-eyed fish.
Jesus Christ, I've written too much and I'm only 5 minutes into the episode. This calls for Jesus Christ.
Even though Homer is portrayed as a lazy, donut eating, fat ass... Homer seems halfway competent at his job than he is portrayed in later seasons. He does cause an accident and he does get fired but there is something about him in that golf cart that makes him seem like he knows what he's doing. It's stupid, I know, because everyone I ever knew that rode around in a golf cart not on a golf course was mentally insane and terminally lazy. There was a kid on my baseball team whose dad used to ride around on a golf cart. I remember seeing him get pulled over right in front of the Carl's Jr. he was about to patronize on it. It was ridiculous. Why Homer in a golf cart makes me feel he's okay at his job, I have no idea. Maybe it's because he cares how he's perceived by Bart immediately before Bart arrives and as he gets fired. Maybe Homer's early season sentimentality makes him feel like a more competent person overall. Lisa reads classified ads to Homer. Notice something; Homer's head is like a goddamned balloon at the top. What was with these animators? There is no consistency scene to scene for any of the characters.
Look at that melon. It's unnatural. It's hard to look at. It's like watching the Afghan rip off of the Simpsons. "I've never done anything worthwhile in my life. I'm a big worthless nothing."
"You're right! I'm young, I'm able-bodied, and I'll take anything! Watch out, Springfield. Here I come."
This is still early Simpsons finding its footing. The Simpsons were able to break free of Sam Simon's sitcom formula later precisely because of their early success abiding it. They built audience trust with their ordinariness. Without a first season as grounded in traditional TV early on, we may not be talking about them today.
After two years, this blogging project is back.
January 30, 2017
New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest: The Greatest Dystopia in the World edition!
Oh boy, folks. Oh boy. That's about all you can say when the guy whose face looks like it broke a hydraulic press takes the place of actually qualified military officials on the National Security Council. I'm talking about Steve Bannon who, for as long as I can remember to, shall go by Steve Badman. Whatever happened to, "I'll listen to the generals?" Turns out he was talking about GENERAL FUCKING HOSPITAL.
He's broken a few hydraulic presses in his day and played a villain in General Hospital. He died of racism on the show.
There were other things to lament, folks. The Muslim ban is ongoing for countries that don't have any Trump money tied up in them. Saudi Arabia dodged the ban list somehow.
In these trying times, what better way to unwind than another edition of my stupid captions for the world's smartest stupid cartoons?
You're taking your fear of my crippling syphilis a little too far.
Listen, you fucking clown. I'm not serving you. I don't care if you've had a long day. I don't care if you got cream pied in the face fifteen fucking times. You want a beer? You're going somewhere else because I am sick and tired of you dropping dingleberries behind my toilet seat. Jesus. Sit down when you wipe.
The world is an endless void of terror. Rowing a boat through sand is an admirable act of defiance but we'd get home a lot quicker if we crawled.
Be sure to check out my last New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest post
Watch my review of Taco Bell's Trumpian culinary masterpiece, the Naked Chicken Chalupa
Become a patron
Buy Cat Food
He's broken a few hydraulic presses in his day and played a villain in General Hospital. He died of racism on the show. There were other things to lament, folks. The Muslim ban is ongoing for countries that don't have any Trump money tied up in them. Saudi Arabia dodged the ban list somehow.
In these trying times, what better way to unwind than another edition of my stupid captions for the world's smartest stupid cartoons?
You're taking your fear of my crippling syphilis a little too far.
Listen, you fucking clown. I'm not serving you. I don't care if you've had a long day. I don't care if you got cream pied in the face fifteen fucking times. You want a beer? You're going somewhere else because I am sick and tired of you dropping dingleberries behind my toilet seat. Jesus. Sit down when you wipe. 
The world is an endless void of terror. Rowing a boat through sand is an admirable act of defiance but we'd get home a lot quicker if we crawled.Be sure to check out my last New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest post
Watch my review of Taco Bell's Trumpian culinary masterpiece, the Naked Chicken Chalupa
Become a patron
Buy Cat Food
