So, I’m watching the Richard Nixon episode from the PBS American Experience documentary series.  And all of the sudden there’s a woman named Margaret Heckler.  And this is what she looks like.   And it is great.

This is huge news.  You know how at the end of The Simpsons, there’s always that production logo for Gracie Films where the lady in a theater shushes and then a movie projector starts?  Well, apparently, after years of using the same lady, they’ve decided to freshen it up a bit.  Which is weird because you wouldn’t think that would be a necessary thing to change.  But with all the success of the Shutter Island previews, Gracie Films decided they needed a face lift.  So here it is:  The new Gracie Films logo.

I currently have a roommate named Brent.  And he is the greatest.  He sings in the shower, lets me eat his leftovers, always buys toilet paper, and gets really drunk angry about republicans.

The other night one of his old roommates, Betsy, who no longer lives in the city was visiting and she stayed at our place.  During her stay in the apartment, she asked Brent to sing this song that he apparently used to sing about her.  Brent sang it.  And, as it turns out, it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.  I think it is the funniest, brassiest 21 seconds of song yet to be created.

In the morning, I demanded that Brent let me record him singing it.  He let me.  Here it is.  Please love it like I love it because it’s perfect.

Do you want to see the saddest ever screen shot of a web page?  Okay, but I’m warning you.  It’s from Jeff Foxworthy’s website.

No Redneck Joke of the Day.  Because of Win32 Error Code = 50.  What’s really interesting is that Win32 Error Codes one through forty nine actually still lead to hilarious redneck jokes.  But Win32 Error Code = 50….Jeez Louise.  Not funny at all.   It’s just a major failure to execute CGI.

Next week on this blog:  Why the guy in the Jeff Foxworthy logo has an ass for a belly.  (Spoiler alert:  He ate an ass.)

P.S.  The error code has been up for 6 months - Jeff Foxworthy’s Web Site

Last weekend I got a mosquito bite.  And normally I have a huge scratching problem when it comes to bug bites.  I scratch them until they scab, and then I scratch the scab until it bleeds, and then I pick the secondary scab until it evolves into an ever-present blemish that I also pick until it’s just a discolored skin patch.  I believe in the doctor community they call it a scar.  This time, however, I was convinced I was not going to let that happen.   So I went out and bought some Cortizone itch cream.

I was really proud.  I was being proactive in my fight against my fight against myself.  I bought the best stuff they had.  Cortizone 10.  None of those bullshit Cortizones one through nine.  And this stuff — I’m sure it works great.  There was a complication though.  This is my toothpaste.

Yeah, that’s right.  I kept putting toothpaste on my fucking bug bite.  And guess what?  It didn’t help.  An hour would pass and all of the sudden I’d think, “why does my itch feel cold?”

I know what you’re going to say.  You’re going to tell me that I should have just read the label of the thing I was using.  Well, you’re not taking into account that I’m an idiot.  Oh, and here’s another thing.  I can’t be entirely positive that I didn’t brush my teeth with Cortizone the other night when I was drunk.

There are only two things I do not love about ordering food to be delivered.  1.) I do not love talking to a human being on the phone while I’m wearing my sweat pants.  And 2.) I do not love not knowing the exact moment when I’m going to have to answer the door and have somebody see me in my sweat pants.  Well, I’ve got some great news for you if you’re me.  And that news is that Domino’s has the best online ordering system that has ever existed.  First of all, they have pasta in a bread bowl.  I know that’s not a function of the ability to order online, but I would end my own life before I would pass up the chance to give credit to pasta in a breadbowl.

FUCK YEAH, DOMINOS!!  They don’t even try to pretend like it’s not a retarded bread to pasta ratio.  They just put pictures up of mounds of bread each with a spoonful of pasta in the middle.  And that’s exactly what you get.  And it’s the best.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.  Let’s get back to the brilliance of their online ordering process.  You just go on there and click on all the stuff you want.  Then you type in your credit card number.  And then you just wait for it to get to your house.  I’M FUCKING KIDDING, IDIOTS.  You don’t just wait for it to get to your house.  YOU WATCH THE PROCESS OF YOUR ENTIRE ORDER.  Check this out.

I GOT CONFIRMATION!  And Corina began custom-making my order at 2:33 PM.  So already I’m in love with Corina.  But she didn’t stop there.  No way would she stop there.

Whaaaaaat?!  Corina also put my order in the oven at 2:35.  So by this point I’m wondering, “Could I ever love anybody more than Corina?”

Hell yeah, I got it heatwaved.  My food was in a hot HeatWave bag at 2:43.  Nazi-like precision they were accomplishing over there at Domino’s.

This is where I got nervous.  What happened to Corina?  Yohan left the store with my order at 2:49?  I felt betrayed, but at the same time, I felt this new love for Yohan.  Yohan would now be the one to see my sweatpants.

Yep.  That’s right.  Yohan arrived.  He saw me in my sweatpants right when I most expected it and he gave me my wad of bread with a spoonful of pasta in it.   I’m going to be straight up real with you people right now.  Hands down, it was the 16th best dinner I’ve ever had.  And I never had to talk to anybody on the phone.  Oh also, they have a button you can click so everybody can watch your order’s progress on FaceBook.

Now, if only there were another button to add Corina and Yohan as FaceBook friends.  Domino’s, let’s get on that.

There’s another commercial I’m obsessed with now.  The new Pacific Life Insurance commercial is like a collage fucktard festival for your senses.  The images don’t match the music, and the music doesn’t match the text, and the text doesn’t match the images.   I feel like everybody who was involved with this commercial was on drugs from start to finish.  Also, while they were on those drugs they were playing video games and getting so hyped about the soundtrack.

YEAH!! Fuck yeah!  You like those whales and shit?  Buy some insurance, bitches.  Whales are the oceanicest.

A few weeks ago I posted an entry about how there are so many Facebook groups dedicated to hating Andie McDowell.

Basically the rest of the posting was me taking a few of the comments people left inside of these group pages and making fun of the people who wrote them.  One of those people was a woman named Carol Stuthridge.  And this is what she had to say:

So my response was as follows:

Really, Carol Stuthridge?  You get sick of people telling you that you look like somebody who is universally considered attractive?  I would imagine that if you have to choose the creepy silhouette over over a real photograph as your profile picture, you probably shouldn’t be cherry picking your compliments.  Also, never say “Geesh” again. And another also:  what the fuck happened to you on New Years eve that caused you to spend New Years day shitting on Andie McDowell (see the date on the comment)?

So that was that.  But then a few days later I got an email.  “From whom?”  you might ask.  Well, I’ll tell you.   From Carol Stuthridge.  I could tell it was from Carol because she ended the email by signing off as “Carol,”  but without the sign off, it would have been quite a mystery.  Here’s what I saw when I first opened the email:

Jubie Something?  It’s like she drunkenly met herself at a bar and couldn’t remember her name when she was telling her friends about it later.  So, then I put my cursor over her name to see what her actual email address was.

Greyanatomy101.  Ummmm.  What’s going on here?  Why wouldn’t she just make it greysanatomy?  With the posessive “s” in there.  There’s no reason to drop the “s.” Clearly she has no issues with putting numbers after the text.  So just do greysanatomy12832783  or something.  But once she already decided to go the dropping-letters route, were they really already 100 people before her who tried this?  Are there already greyanatomys one through one hundred?    But in fairness to her, she might have been going for “101″ conoting a college level anatomy class.  Only Carol can say for sure.

Anyway, in the email she goes on to explain that she doesn’t actually hate Andie McDowell and that she already had left the group.  She was just sick of people always telling her she looked like Andie McDowell when she doesn’t think she looks like her.

“I look like me, but I have been hearing the same thing from people for years.  It just gets old, that’s all.  I can’t understand why people say it.  I don’t see it in myself.  I don’t think I look like her, but I guess we don’t see ourselves as other people see us.”

Yeah, that’s right.  Carol got introspective right there.  Right there in an email about some asshole’s blog post about Facebook groups about Andie McDowell.  And I appreciate that.  But she clearly looks somewhat like Andie McDowell.  How do I know?  Well, she attached a picture in the email.  A wedding picture.  Which seems a little desperate.  But that’s not what I’m about to make fun of.

What I’m going to make fun of is the fact that she named the file “gooby photo.”  She’s naming photos of herself Gooby and she’s refering to herself as Jubie Something.  I have no idea what’s going on with this woman other than she kind of looks like Andie McDowell.  Sorry, Carol.

About 4 months ago, Joe Mande and I realized that in Kanye West’s song “Heartless,” it sounds a lot like he’s saying Arliss.  You know, Arliss.  From the HBO show Arli$$.  Or as Joe’s girlfriend, Kylie, called it once, Arli Money Money.  Anyway, what happened was Joe and I started re-writing the song to be about Arliss and BAM!  No more than 140 days later we fucking made it!  At least a verse and a half of it!