Reader's Poll: The Results are in!
- To chart the progress of this site, I mailed out 1000 surveys to the 23 dedicated people who regularly come to http://winnerofthesat.blogspot.com. I had many important questions that I couldn’t possibly answer by guessing. Nearly half a dozen surveys came pouring back flooding my mailbox practically exploding it. Thanks to these surveys, the debt collectors, the eviction notices, court summons, insurance fraud investigators, and opium druglords coming for their money, I am by far the most popular person in my apartment complex. (And I live in the same building as Ted McGinley!) Thank you so much.
And now..the results!
Are you Male or Female?
On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate this site?
Average Response: 2
My Favorite Response: 10
Are you within the lucrative 18-49 demographic which my advertisers so desperately crave? If not, why?
91% responded: No - Too old
9% responded: No - Too young to read or count
What would make this site better?
Porn - 50%
Content that isn’t derivative - 20%
Articles that are funny - 30%
Percentage of Readers who prefer 72 hour quaalude benders to this site:
Are you sober now?
30% responded: Yes
65% responded: Define sober
Percentage of Readers with Broadband, DSL, or T1 connections:
Percentage of Readers with Internet Access:
Percentage of Readers who are neither living nor dead:
Number of Kids who prefer Crayons to Guns:
7 out of 10
Percentage of men who find sweater robes attractive on girls:
Percentage of female readers who feel beautiful while wearing sweater robes:
33% Greasy McGillicuty's Grease Shack
32% Some yuppie shithole in the West Village
60% said: Nickelback
28% said: Usher
12% said: Stone Temple Pilots
Who is your favorite VH1 I Love the 90s commentator?
45% Michael Ian Black
45% Hal Sparks
5% - Tie - Six from Blossom & That guy from the Power Rangers
If Male, what is your penis size in inches?:
If Female, how loose is your Vagina:
Have you ever slept with a Webmaster before?
40% said No
Would you like to?
20% said: Depends on the Webmaster.
80% said: I prefer sleeping with people who could provide for my children.
What is your favorite website?
95% said: http://www.fatchicksinpartyhats.com
5% said: http://www.npr.org
“Yeah, I think you suck, your site sucks, and everything you’ve ever touched will suck forever always and until the end of time. Worthless piece of crap.” -- Jennifer Lipschitz
"I have followed you to New York, Mr. S. I have spent many years strategizing my next move. The stars are almost in alignment." -- Sebastian T.
“Could you for once try not being such a loser?” -- WinneroftheSAT’s brother
“Your site makes me laugh so much. My prison sentence seems to just fly by.” --Mikey Gaglione
“When I get out of prison, I’m going to find you and kill you.” --Mikey Gaglione
“This website is wonderful.” --Sally Carvers
“All my life people have been telling me that I’m stupid, but I swear I’m not.” --Sally Carvers
**Big ups go out to everyone who participated! See you Monday!**
WinneroftheSAT Pretends to be at the Democratic National Convention - Finale
- Man, lemme tell you about my hangover. Last night was a banger. Carolyn Moseley Braun, Al Gore, and I were playing this drinking game in his hotel room at the Comfort Inn. Every time Al said something totally hilarious with his newfound sense of humor we would all have to do a shot. “Job development is critical to the economy.” HAhaha. That’s funny Al! “The environment is something we need to protect.” Oh, what a hoot! Keep those shots comin’, Carolyn. We were hammered.
So, I’m still at the Democratic National Convention. Or rather, I’m still on the crusty hardwood floor of my apartment with my eyes closed pretending I’m at the convention.
Did anyone see that Barack Obama guy? I’ve been following him for a long time since this past Monday. During an unending procession of boring speeches by faceless, nameless white people, I went out to the concession stand to get a soft pretzel and a soda. I come back and here’s this pleasant black man at the podium talking about whatever it is people talk about at conventions. While dipping my pretzel into stadium mustard, I could hear pundits all around me feverishly whispering, “He’s the next Al Sharpton--but without the enormous stomach and funny hair! He’s the next Jesse Jackson--but without the Rainbow Coalition as his backup band!” He certainly got my attention midway through my soda. Hell, I didn’t even care what Obama was saying. All I heard was “my father was a goat farmer from Kenya” and I knew right then that this was a guy I could really identify with.
Over the course of the past two days, I particularly had a reasonable time in all of the various workshops and seminars cosponsored by the Learning Annex. “Introduction to Microsoft Word” by ex-computer salesman Fred Lundy, was empowering. “Culture Tips,” hosted by Jai Rodriguez of Queer Eye, was informative. “Protesting Things for Fun & Profit,” by the guy on stilts in the giant snapping turtle costume from the Seattle WTO riots, was riveting.
And now...it’s time for the WinneroftheSAT DNC Winnys! Every time I pretend to go to a national convention, I also simulate the acceptance of golden statuettes on behalf of all the fake category winners. The award for Funnest Delegates goes to...West Virginia! They’re fun because they’re slack jawed and toothless and they keep brawling with neighboring state delegates over their cheating girlfriends and Firebirds. Best Name Zinger for a Guest Speaker...Theresa “Heinz-Ketchup!” Heinz Ketchup, get it? Biggest Media Whore Skank...Ann Coulter! No shocker there. And finally, 2004’s Winny for Easiest Delegates to Get to Give you a Handy out Behind the CNN Satellite Van goes to...you guessed it, New Jersey! Nice effort to all runners up.
This convention has been exactly how I imagined it would be. Everyone here behaved themselves just as they would on TV. John Edwards was youthful and exuberant. John Kerry appeared undead and seemed animated only by means of a series of elaborate science experiments. It’s a shame that neither of them has officially appeared yet and that the DNC is almost over and that I have to use my mental enterprise to travel back to NY so soon. I’m going to miss hanging out in the wonderful town of Boston with Matt Damon, CT from the Real World Paris, an archdiocese full of child molesting priests, and others. It's been real.
WinneroftheSAT Pretends to be at the Democratic National Convention - Day 1
You’d never believe who just got invited to the Democratic National Convention. It’s me! Leading democrats from around the country said, “Git over here!” I now have a bus ticket to Boston and a VIP pass to all the coolest cocktail parties. Anybody else wanna come? Psych! Sorry--seat’s taken. There’s only room on the bus for me and my imagination.
Oh wow. This is so much better than spending the week in my 6’x6’ studio apartment with no closet space and a slop bucket for a toilet. From my sheets I have laid on the floor for a bed, I close my eyes, and instantly I’m whisked away to a magical world--the Port Authority Bus Terminal! I walk around in a moonstruck daze. So much is going on. Bums fighting. Bums peeing. Bums trying to kill me. Oh no! It’s 12:15 and I have a 12:20 departure! I better run.
Whew. Just in time. These seats are so comfortable. You could tell that Greyhound really cares about the spinal alignment of its riders. The bus pulls out of the dank cellar of the terminal and the riders erupt into peals of ‘whoos’. Within minutes we’re in New Jersey and the bus erupts into a chorus of ‘boos’. Oh boy! I’ve dreamt about driving through Jersey all my life and here I am driving through Jersey. I think I’m going to take a nap.
When I wake up, i rub the sleep from my face and look! There’s that famous Boston baseball field! Over there is that place where they had the Boston Tea Party! Oh my! To the left is Ben Affleck's house. And to my right are a bunch of colleges! Beantown is so beautiful. What a place. Our bus pulls right up to the front door of the Fleet Center and as we unload we’re greeted by a slew of angry anti-abortion protesters. “More Babies! More Babies!” and “We want fetuses! We want fetuses!”
I walk in the convention center and boom! It’s just like that scene in Dazed and Confused when that one guy enters into the bar and Bob Dylan’s “Hurricane” is playing in the background and suddenly the audience sees his whole life thrust into context. Except here, “Dancing in the Street” was playing and this joint is filled with fat broads in power suits.
There’s so much fanfare and so much confetti. A guy runs up to me, “How faa away did you paak the caa?” I just ignored his silly Boston speak and continued on towards the inner arena. Some old lady at a table asks, “Would you like a John Kerry poster?” I reply, “No, idiot. I want a poster with your stupid name on it. Just kidding. Yeah--gimme one of those!” She gave me an insincere look and unwillingly handed me a Kerry/Edwards sign. Then she dropped it before I could clasp it. Then I slugged her in the gut and ran away.
In just a few moments I'm going to be in the same 30,000 person seating arrangement as Howard Dean, Dick Gephardt, Al Gore, Joe Lieberman, and a myriad of other losers. I can't hardly wait! But first I need to use the bathroom. I open my eyes and I'm transported back to my 6'x6' NYC studio again. Where did I leave my slop bucket??
Be here tomorrow for the gripping conclusion!
Growing up with Post-Op Parents
- Living with a FTM parent can be hard sometimes. But living with both a FTM AND a MTF parent is super duper hard! All my life someone is trying to bring me down sayin’ shit like, “Holy crap! You’ve got two trannie parents??” and “Do you think they keep their genitals cryogenically preserved just so they can fuck themselves with their old parts?” To those I respectively answer, “Yeah! So What?” and “Wouldn’t you?” Don’t judge. Don’t even go there.
Honestly, it’s not a big deal. I will always call Mom, Father-to-Mother and Dad, Mother-to-Father, no matter what. After all, you only get one mom and one dad--I consider myself blessed to get each twice. They will always by my transparents. I can’t change that. The only man who could would be Dr. Sanchez and that would require a heck of a lot of cross-generational familio-linear sexual reassignment/really good insurance.
I’m sure there’s hundreds of thousands of other people out there with dual sets of transsexual parents. Who knows? Maybe you have one or two and you just don’t realize it. What seems like your mom’s clitoris may very well be the vestigial remainderman of your pre-mom’s penis. Looks can be deceiving.
From what I’m told, I had a very happy childhood (see reference to combine incident in 7/19 entry). My mother’s genderslave name was Roberta. My father’s name was Dennis. When I was four, Roberta started to become distant and very emotional. She looked the same, but you could tell something was eating her out on the inside. Roberta knew since she was a little girl that she wanted to grow up to be a man with a big wang and not a woman with a big vag. And with each passing day, she felt like an alien in a foreign land. Looking back, her hands always felt a bit coarse and her hugs a bit bearish. I really started to notice a difference that day she came home with a mastectomy and a cosmetic hysterectomy. Never one to rest on her laurels, Roberta found a great Mexican doctor to lend a hand with the phalloplasty and pretty soon, voila!, Roberta became Robert A.
It was hard at first. Dennis didn’t really know what to do. Mother-to-father was complete. Dennis’ family didn’t understand, so they would call Robert A. names and get in big fights about it at Thanksgiving. One time cousin Debbie ran around with a turkey baster sticking through the front of her pants yelling, “Look at me! I’m Robert A.!” She would dip it in the turkey juices, suck in as much as she could with her prosthetic, and then immaturely spray it all over Robert A. when s/he wasn’t looking. But what do you expect from a 5 year old?
The emergence of Mom as an FTM post-op trannie caused major rifts in the bedroom. Dennis slowly retreated from his patriarchal duties by making up excuses. One day he was “too tired.” Another day he “had a headache.” And another, he “just didn’t feel like having his ass plowed by his TS spouse.” That caused Robert A. to burst into tears. However, Dennis still loved her-to-him and it was true that they still loved me. They found a therapist to help sail our family-ship through the rough seas. During these sessions it became apparent that Dennis wasn’t afraid to love this man that used to be the woman he married, he was afraid to love himself. The doctor recommended he try living as a MTF transvestite and what do you know? He couldn’t get enough of it. The shoes, the lip gloss!--he loved everything about being a woman. Dennis scheduled his own extensive sexual reassignment surgery with that same doctor. Unfortunately, there was a bump in the road to rid him of his ugly organ. The doctor regretfully informed him he was to be put on a really big waiting list for a vagina and boobs. He said it could take many years to get to the top of the list and that some people never live to see it.
When Dennis came home all dejected about the prospect of having to wait a long time to have his penis removed, a smile flashed across Robert A.’s face. Mother-to-Father reached under the bed and pulled out a dusty Converse shoe box. S/he took his hand in his/hers and together they opened that box. A matching donor was found.
Like the autumn leaves changing in October, Dennis became Denise.
It was difficult enough for me growing up a genius in a school district full of dummies, but life was only complicated by the changing family situation. The kids at school got wind of it because my Mother-to-father and Father-to-mother would come to open houses and soccer practice and people would look at them like they stepped off a bus from Crazyworld. Their first initiative as transgendered people was to lobby (unsuccessfully) to have the PTA name changed to the TPN’PTA--the TransParent N’ Parent Teacher Association. Parents & Teachers were unwilling to accept a 6’4’’, 250 pound man in a sundress and a diminutive woman in a fake moustache into their fascist society.
Society wasn’t ready. And each society we moved to still wasn’t ready. We ended up settling in Michigan and that went okay for a while until we woke up one morning with the word "Freakshow" burning in our frontlawn.
A lot of people ask me, "Did they ever pressure you into getting a sex change?" Absolutely not. They told me when I was very young that they would love me no matter what sex I choose to remain. "So what if you want to be boring and only have a colonizing dick your whole life? That's for you to decide," my Father-to-Mother would tell me. Even though they're dramatically different on the outside and their insides have been radically altered by years of hormone replacement, they're still sorta the same people. It's not them with the problems--I mean, they used to have problems, being born into the wrong gender and stuff. The real one with the problem is you and your hateful attitude. Get over it. Don't judge.
Wait'll you see these seven people on a tricycle!!
Click here! www.conferencebike.com
Finally--a way for you and 6 other assholes to sit in a circle and ride down the street looking like douchebags.
Positively Opposite Review: "Little Black Book" world premiere
- Due to the format of the Positively Opposite Review, most circumstances and plots are real, but actual opinions expressed herein are completely altered and devoid of any and all truth in order to preserve an upbeat reading environment.
I’m no alchemist, but I think Hollywood finally found an empiric formula for Oscar gold with the way fun Brittany Murphy romp, “Little Black Book.” In a word: Brilliant! Two words: Fuck yeah!! Wow. I was fortunate enough to attend the premiere. I’m not talking advanced viewing. I’m talking Entertainment Tonight, roll out the red carpet, you’re gonna sit in assigned seats and applaud at names on the screen, premiere at the Ziegfeld Theatre on 54th St in awesome midtown.
Here are some details about this wicked and non-vapid film spectacular. Brittany Murphy, an associate producer at a Jenny Jonesian tv program, accidentally *SPOILER!* writes herself into the show when hilarious situations arise out of the intrigue surrounding the content of her boyfriend’s little black book. She then *SPOILER!* gets hit by a bus and dies!! Cleverly enough, the propmaster, in collaboration with the writers, chose not to employ an actual little black book! Instead they used a silver Palm Pilot! Talk about a funny misnomer of a title!
I particularly loved the killer seats all the "Little Black Book" die-hard fans were ushered into. We had our choice between the immediate 3 rows in front of the 80 foot screen and the back 5 rows on the upper concourse. Keeping with the lightheartedness of the movie, Sony so humorously added a line to the invite saying no one under 21 or over 39 permitted! How did Kathy Bates get in?? Only kidding Kathy!
The free popcorn was fresh and not made the previous day. Attention: Page Six! Magician David Blaine and actress Josie Maran were definitely digging the popcorn as far as I could tell from my seat 100 yards away! Gelman from Regis & Kelly was going through tubs and tubs! Mmmm popcorn!
As expected before going in, the story was so fun that I couldn’t possibly think of 5 specific times when I wanted to kill myself during the film! Best non-person actor award goes to the farting dog. It really ripped the thunder out of Brittany’s scenes! Oh baby does this movie totally pay off at the end too. If someone said to me, “You can pick only one thing: Little Black Book over and over or self mutilation. What’s it gonna be?” I’d unhesitatingly take Little Black Book! It is--without a doubt--leaps and bounds superior to self mutilation!! This is a summer movie I just know you will all tolerate! The verdict is in: 10 out of 10!!!
Winning post-interview thank you letter
- Douglas Dunjamabab,
Human Resources Director
Duane Reade Drugstore #1257
RE: Our interview on July 14th
Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to interview with you last week. It was a) a wonderful experience and b) my pleasure. I wanted to send this thank-you note and the enclosed prismatic 25 dollar Circuit City giftcard I found in my roommate’s wallet to remind you of the great time I had talking to you.
I would like to jog your memory with some of the innumerable reasons to hire me. One—my Bachelor of Arts degree from a ranked university. Clearly, someone with such heightened and perspicacious comparative reasoning skills as me is someone well suited for the front lines of Duane Reade. Your customers deserve a clerk with a Bachelor’s degree to ring up their suppositories, prophylactics, and Pringles. Your customers want a human who can dial the in-store phone for a price check as well as one who could hold a conversation on the postwar impact of the Bauhaus in the western hemisphere. I know this because I was once that customer with a mispriced tube of KY in the hand and a fun fact about German expressionism in the mouth. Or was it the other way around?
Two—my customer service skills are second to none. In fact, they are so impeccable that I will begin phasing out the word "customer" from my vocabulary. I will now refer to “those people” as “guests.” I promise to never even pronounce the word “guest” with the same tone as one would pronounce the word “bastard.” I value and treasure them.
Three—I would like to point out that I already own a shapeless navy blue smock, so you would not be throwing away countless dollars on unrecoverable uniform costs.
Another thing—You’ve got to admit that we had a good time during the interview. You must have noticed that my unblinking eye contact could pierce the densest stones. Wavering eyes suggest wavering motivations. Not me. From the moment I met your supple hand with mine, I furrowed my brow and looked deep into your stunning eyes. I wanted you to get a real good feel of me. Surely, you were also impressed by the rented tuxedo and the matching boutonniere I wore. Remember that elderly sounding woman who called earlier in the day of the interview to find out what color tie you were wearing? That was no woman.
And please—return the 2nd page of this thank you note in the provided SASE. On page 2 you will see the two questions: “Are you gonna hire me?” and “Does Duane Reade’s company policy prohibit discreet manager/employee sexual conduct?” with corresponding [ ]YES or [ ]NO boxes next to them. Please take your time and fill in all boxes with the CORRECT answers. Once again, thank you so much. Please call me ASAP for a 2nd interview. I look forward to joining your team. Godwilling, this note will find its way into your hands and your heart.
Very Truly Yours,
Actual VH1 "I Love the 90s" message board comments on Michael Ian Black
I just love Micheal Ian Black!!!!! his humor is fantastic and i'd say that if i'm watching "I love the 90's" it's because the90' is my generation and I LOVE IT and cuz I always got to see what Micheal is gonna come up with in his commetaries about stuff in the show. Micheal is the kind of person i'd definitly be best friend with ( or else ... lol)
Micheal Ian Black is the best. Hal Sparks would be a million times better but I lost most respect for him when I found out he plays a fagg. There is one guy who's name I dont know but he wasnt on I love the 90s but he was on all the other ones and he was so freakin funny. he had long red hair, he put the Little Orphan Annie wig down his pants in I love the 70s.
Michael Ian Black kicks ass!!! He is so funny...I love him and Hal...but I think Mo Rocca is completely unfunny.....Not to mention Hal and Michael are sooo freakin' hot!
i want to be michael ian black. i wish i had his skills
Michael ian black is without a doubt the funniest and most attractive guy on the show. sure hal sparks and mo rocca are funny and good looking, but do they compare, i think not.
I think Michael Ian Black is so bad A*$. Evrything he says cracks me up. He needs his own website and his own 1/2 hour TV show. I would watch it all the time. Yeah michael!
Oh my god Michal Ian Black is sooooo sexi!!! I want to have his baby!!!! (jk) But i cant cuz he'd be arrested (darn). But it doesnt really matter if he's married cuz I know I'll never meet him NE way... Oh yeah Hal Sparks is sexi 2! I saw him in Spiderman 2 and i was like "Oh my god! Sexiness!!" he had the cutest dog in that elevater... or at least im pretty sure it was him... he had like 3 lines...<3sandkisses2halandmichael
This is my very first message board entry but I think what I have to say could change lives everywhere. I have fallen in love with Michael Ian Black. He brings a new purpose to my life and I appreciate him for that. Thank you Michael Ian Black for putting the smile back on my face, the extra skip in my heart, and the new light within my soul. -Jess
I, too have posted my first message on a message board all because of MIB. hell, I had to have my HUSBAND teach me how to use the computer to do it. THAT is how much I love him. He is too funny and too hot for words.
I’m writting a letter to SNL explaning why they need to put Michael Ian Black on the show. i think he would make ratings go up and would also get more exposure. i need help starting off the letter. i just cant say "Dear SNL, but him on the damn show" if only it were that simple. i really want to make this a good letter. and if anyone can help me with this i would appriciate it very much.
MICHAEL IAN BLACK IS THE BEST!! thats why i devoted an entire site to him!! http://www.geocities.com/ilovemib2000
i cant stand some of the people that are on there, especially that stupid a$$ dude michael ian black.. that foo has nothin better to do then talk about old fads
his "jokes" are never funny, he never talks about the topic at hand, he says everything slow so when hes not funny its even worse, he makes all the stories that he tells about himself and how he was involved, he dumb, stupid, no talent waste. hes on every topic so its not "I LOVE THE 90S" but "THE MICHAEL IAN BLACK HOUR" he some how had sex with one of the producers to get on the show cause he cant get a job anywhere else. screw him, PEACE IM OUT!
The guy from Anthrax is more funny than micheal black, He just plain sucks.
I have to say, I hate him. I think he ruins all these shows. Mo Rocca is a waste of space. I can't stand him either. I can barley stomach them. Really, VH1 needs to stop putting them on all these shows. There are so many other people that are funnier. Seriously, I have seen way too much of them!!! "Your fired"
honestly i would rather eat my own s!#% b4 saying that micheal ian black is sexy, hot, or that i'm falling in love with him. if we ever got married i would commit suicide over boredom.
Michael Black F-U-C-K-I-N-G SUCKS! that dude is in like every vh1 "best week ever" show....WHY? there's only one thing worse that someone bombing with an unfunny joke and that's someone bombing with an unfunny joke...that...talks.....really....sloowwwww I think everyone else on the show rocks! why is this unfunny ass-hole! used sooo much? PS.(he has a football head like the ppl on family guy)
STOP ABSESING OVER MICHEAL IAN BLACK!!!!! Ppl plz stop wishing you can be with M.I.B you all sound pathedic its just sad, he dont like you! and I got proof HE'S MARRIED!! the man has a ring if you were all true fans you would have known that! now who fells dumb!
You dipshits. First off, you f!#%&*! need to quit bitching...Vh1 nor I give a s!#% about your waste of a life watching this show and your stupid ideas for the show. Do mea favor, format your hard drive and drown. Eat f!# poop. Seriously... I'm sick of you assheads going "I LOVE HAL SPARKS HEHEHEHEHE" listen up PrincessWhore69, nobody cares. Die by Rick Moranis.
Wow, I mean really wow. I couldn't have said it better myself. Bravo.
And finally...what does Michael Ian Black think?
MIB himself weighs in on the controversy
How to Cheat at Candyland
A few weeks ago, while out with some fellow lovers of the runny brown liquid, I happened upon a curious watering hole that had board games lazily littering the sides of its foyer. With much enthusiasm, a few of my very close fellow technorati friends scurried up to the pile of games and whinnied like horsefaced girls upon seeing Candyland in the disarray. Ever since the combine incident on the eve of the 97 Keystone homecoming football game, most of my childhood memories have been erased. Hence, I looked at this new strange foreign game with wide-eyed fascination.
Even before I could read the rules on the underside of the beer battered Candyland box, I was immediately consumed with only one burning question, “How can I cheat at this??”
Instructions & Introduction:
"Once upon a time, King Kandy, the Imperial Head Bonbon and Grand Jujube of Candy Land disappeared...”
Jesus, i don’t have time for the stinking life story of King Kandy. Imperial Bonbon? WTF? Seriously. Like I care about talking candy. I thought reading wasn’t a part of this game? Now I’m supposed to read 3 paragraphs about some fucktard named Grand Jujube?
“Move your Gingerbread playing piece to gameboard spaces that match colors and pictures of drawn cards. Be the first player to move your Gingerbread Man to the Candy Castle at the end of the path and you'll win the game! The youngest player goes first. Play proceeds to the left. Ages 3-6.”
That’s better. So, I scanned the room for colorblind infants. Unfortunately, I was in a bar for adults on the lower east side and not in a nursery for Accutane babies. Cheating at this game may be more difficult than I first imagined.
I ordered another round for the table.
Then I collected everyone’s money. I need to get these people real good and drunk. As I began to unscrew the gemstone from my fake class ring so i could release 200 miligrams of rohypnal into the pitcher of Natty Light--enough to date rape a herd of elephants--I was startled by the caress of a nearby human. “Nate, pick a gamepiece.” Since all the naturally occuring gingerbread tokens were taken already, I had to choose a coin. I decided to go with a penny because my favorite basketball player is Penny Hardaway.
Candyland is a wonderful game for people of small intellects or those who find the task of counting to be difficult. If you can’t read what I’m writing then Candyland is up your alley. But this isn’t a review. This is a step by step guide on how to cheat and ruthlessly dismantle all of your opponents. I learned some tactics very early on to increase my likeliness of winning.
First of all, always carry a Sharpie. It will come in handy later when I get to the section on tagging cards two sentences away. There are several lame cards in the pile that instead of transporting you to a color, transport you to a ridiculous puerile locale like Snowflake Queen Frostine. You must mark these cards with a graffitti tag--something that reprazents you, like SPLIFFZ or HIGHLIFE. Snowflake Queen Frostine happens to be one B you need to get to know very well. If you draw her at the start of the game, it allows you to skip nearly to the end. Begin by shuffling the cards. Try to lure kind comments by saying something like, “Oh..I’ll shuffle. Don’t worry ‘bout it guys.” People will look favorably on this gesture. Since the youngest player goes first, lie to everyone about your birthday. It helps if you’re playing with total strangers. Next, stack the tagged Queen Frostine card at the top of the deck. IMPORTANT: Do not offer a cut. Once you draw that card, you’re living on easy street. No adult or child will be able to stop you from winning.
If you somehow get derailed from this plan, there are other ways to win. If you are playing with children, insulting them into movement oppression is a good strategy. “Only foster children use the Rainbow Trail, Lashawna.” As a rule of thumb, the older your opponent, the more racially charged the epithet should be.
Always use extreme caution around Gooey Gumdrops. If you land on a space which forces you to lose a turn, begin screaming. Cause a scene. No one wants to be near someone causing a scene. Especially a 24 year old man in a bar playing Candyland. When your opponents get up to walk away say, “Do you concede?” Keep repeating it until they respond. If they tell you to fuck yourself, then he or she or they have conceded and you are free to jollytrot your way to candy castle.
There are ways to get your opponents on technicalities. Since play goes to the left, find or create a position in which you no longer have a left. Try laying on the floor on your side on your left arm or try tellling everyone who wants to play to form a single file line behind you. Remember: They can’t win if they can’t play.
That harkens back to my original plan. Unloading a powder slick of roofies in a friendly communal pitcher of beer will surely disable all drinking opponents. It’s unclear if i won that day in Candyland because i poured myself a glass of beer from that stein and sipped it just to show that everything was cool and i wasn’t some kind of narc sitting at the table not drinking beer. Well, I’m sure each of us knows how that turned out.
- Can I be serious for just one minute, please? What you may have gathered so far is correct. My name is Nate S. and I won the SAT a few years ago. Also of note: I was switched at birth. When did that happen? Oh, sometime around when I was born. I think the 80s.
The core of this blog is quite simple. It's supposed to be a totally 100 percent accurate and true depiction of Truth. I am holding a mirror on the frailty of the human condition--and the human condition exists within an enclosed room of mirrors. There is no refraction. Light cannot escape. Nor can it enter. Make no mistake.
Over a few drinks at an east village pub, I once gestured grandly and posed the notion to a close circle of intellectuals and literati, "We could be so different from what we are. It's so weird." An old chap sharply countered, "What the fuck does that mean? Of course we could be different. You're an idiot."
But that's exactly my point. My point is that I call to being the kinds of questions that burn the spirit and rouse my peers. I ask the questions you were too lazy or too stupid to memorize the answers to. Even if I make up an answer or just trail off mid-sentence, i pledge to you that high standards and a search for truth will always be upheld here. You have my word on it.
I am going to continue pretending this is an actual content driven site with actual readership. In the pipelines there are many immersing stories being cooked up! Upcoming: a series of 'How to Cheat at..." guides, a comprehensive description of the carbuncle on my friend Craig's face (boy is it big!), a review of various OTC painkillers, a taste matchup between the local varieties of generic macaroni & cheese, a heartfelt glimpse into what it's like being a Big Brother to an inner-city youth, and many many more hilarious and true surprises!
What an incredible launch week, huh? Be here for more starting next monday-friday!
Actual A+ Yahoo! user movie reviews for Jerry Bruckheimer's "King Arthur"
- It's like a babies arm holding an apple.
by mystic_jester_tj Jul 9, 2004
I always wondered where the saying "It's like a babies arm holding an apple" came from. Now I know it was one of Arthur's knights who first said it :). Anyway. I play mythological games such as Everquest and the game based upon this story Dark Age of Camelot. Also I watch many movies based in this time period. One of my favorite movies of all time is a movie called "Merlin" with Sam Neil. A+ for the New Story. A for the acting. A+ for the directing. A++ for the visuals. Overall a great film A+
Finally, An Epic Worth Watching......
by real_honest_review Jul 8, 2004
You know I liked the film when I start stealing lines from the movie for my review (The movie's line is,"Finally, a man worth killing"). If you are like me, you must have been disappointed by Troy. I was all hyped about that when I went in to see it and came out underwhelmed and disappointed. I was a little hesitant to go and see Arthur opening day because of that memory. The reviews for Arthur have been somewhat mixed as well. So, when my friend insisted that we watch this opening night, I went along with the hope that the mighty reviewers wont be wrong. And they weren't. The acting was surprisingly purposeful specially from Mr. Oven and Ms. Knightly and their blossoming romance was well executed. The most important thing is that Arthur has a coherent and plausible story which Troy lacked. Overall, this is a historical epic worth catching at the theater.
WOW! what a great movie!
by jessicapc69 Jul 7, 2004
I've never heard any of the stories about King Arthur, but what I know about this movie is that it is AWESOME! I'm not sure if the movie goes by the actual story of how things happened but it was great all the same ~ Keira Knightley kicked some major ass and Clive Owen was just brilliant, I recommend this movie to anybody becuz it is just a great summer movie!
Kiera Knightly Steals the show!!!!!!!1
by crazyjim001 Jul 9, 2004
This movie can be described in one word. This word is AMAZING. Kiera Knightly steals the show with her oscar-worthy role as guinevere. Not only is she the hottest women alilve, she also is amazing at acting. If you dont want to c the movie for excitement, suspence, and action then go c it to c kiera in skimpy cloths!!!!GREAT GREAT GREAT MOVIE!!!!!!!!!!!!
by chrome_diamond Jul 7, 2004
King Arthur roxx!!! Its a tight a$$ movie! Keira was the best part of the movie, of course cuz she is a great actress & extreamly beautiful. The only part I didnt like was that Keira didnt come into the movie for 40 minz, but thats ok. lol. It should win best picture & Keira should win best supporting acteress! :-D Go see it!
There's no better story of King Arthur
by firstname.lastname@example.org Jul 7, 2004
An excellent movie, however there was a lot of killing. An untold, realistic depiction of King Arthur and his knights. Many say it was a cheap knock off but I assure that it was not. It has the action with out the gore yet there is much killing as with any movie dealing with war. It has an excellent sound track and is enjoyeable yet saddening.
Best of the best, Sir....With honors
by alexbaldwin2 Jul 8, 2004
I went into this movie expecting it to be two hours of entertainment, and came out completely flaborgassed by what I just saw. I got into this movie faster and deeper than I have in any movie that I have ever seen. It kept me on my toes throughout the entire feature, with no dull moments to let me catch my breath, which I have never heard of in a movie before. King Arthur also had the most original plot of any of the Arthur movies that I have seen, and is so realistic. All in all, I would recommend seeing this movie a couple of times while its still on the big screen.
KING ARTHUR IS A MOVIE WORTH WATCHING....
by scaryscreaming Jul 11, 2004
I was kind of put off about some of the historical facts that I know and have always been taught. I studied Arthurian legend in college, who knows when or if he actually existed. I would like to believe in Arthur, Merlin, and the rest. If you go to see this movie throw everything you have ever been thought of the legend out the window before the movie starts. I would go see it again just on the fact that I took my Mother with me and she stayed awake through the WHOLE movie, that in its self was magic of Merlin’s doing I am sure. Mother falls asleep at everything. LOL
Only morons have bad things to say about this movi
by heronspiritguide Jul 9, 2004
Of all the bad reviews i have read on this movie, i have noticed only morons have bad things to say. From one complaining that Guinevieres costume wasnt sexy because her breasts were smushed (the point for a female warrior) to some dip on here talking about stonehendge by the sea, as a complaint, lol there are more than one monolith you idiot.
Surpassed my expectations......
by iron_woman_2 Jul 11, 2004
My husband and I were going to go see it last night, but I was too tired (plus I didn't really wanna see this dude flick anyway). However, after church today my husband wanted to go catch the matinee showing, and boy was I so not as excited as he was. I must say that this film kept my attention from beginning to end! I'm not too familiar with how the original story goes. Overall, this movie surpassed my expectations and I say it's a movie worth watching. Hope this helped those people who weren't too sure about going or not.
by blokbusta750 Jul 12, 2004
Simply put, this movie was amazing. To be honest I read the Yahoo reviews before I watched the movie and now I have come to terms to not believe in reviews anymore. Regardless of what most people think about this movie, I believe that this movie was JUST brilliant. Perhaps it is my imaginative mind that appreciates stories like these with Knights for example. You feel a sense of sympathy towards these characters; how each lay their life down for others. These men were forced to serve the army and even when their time came to be free, they still fought for righteousness. Now that, is noble and it is something we should all learn. To come together--in all shapes, color, and size--putting others before ourselves. NOBLE is the one word to describe this movie and I highly encourage people to watch it. I wish I had more hands, so I could give it a 4-THUMBS UP. Whether or not you seek to get "something" out of the movie, it is a great film to just simply enjoy.
To do list for week of 7/14-7/21
- -Finish haircut.
-Drop off laundry.
-Pick up laundry.
-Weigh pros and cons of extensive sexual reassignment.
-Smile at one person each day.
-Negotiate best offer on Ford Probe.
-Call Larry on 9 to fix the copier.
-Decide whom to vote for in presidential election. Choices: Bush, Kerry.
-Return all of my birthday presents.
-Get ready to flip calendar to August.
-Compose ultimate guitar solo using only mixolydian scales. Recall circle of fifths.
-Remind mom/dad to send money soon.
-Make mix tape for Keith.
-Draft letter to editor.
-Check weight of pasta box to see if roommates are eating my tagliatelle.
-Inspect roommates’ rooms for dirty bowls filled with bits of tagliatelle.
-Confront roommates about missing tagliatelle.
-Consider replacing plant with cooler, better looking plant.
-Consider replacing cat with cooler, better looking cat. Check prices on lethal injections.
-Tape Everybody Loves Raymond.
-Rework cover letter.
-Find unpaid intern on craigslist to write and update blog for me.
-Follow up with Blimpie’s recruiter. Practice sandwich construction.
-Check Vertical Slum and Stylus for bands I should listen to.
-Attend Brooklyn City Council meeting to hear benefits of planned building of toxic waste storage facility across street.
-Contact middle school high jump coach, Mr. Moyer, to tell him how high I can jump now.
-Save face from prior servings. Fight this girl named Amelia who keeps serving me and doesn't even live in New York. Think of way to serve her via blog.
-Redeem Dave & Buster’s tickets.
-Testify for 9/11 Commission.
-Complete/Start series of seahorse paintings.
-Think about taking road that doesn’t lead to failure.
-Make protein shake.
-Walk to gym. Run on treadmill.
-Transfer Chao data from old Dreamcast VMU.
-Find where the sailors hang out in Shenmue to get information.
-Compete in King of Fighters 2003 Tournament at Chinatown Fair arcade. Avoid being killed by Chinese mafia.
-Dissolve any unholy unions.
-Call John Ashcroft and expose roommate Debbie as XXXXXXXXXX correspondent.
-Reserve audience tickets for Tony Danza’s daytime talk show. Priority: High!
-Remember to alert readers of possible spoilers.
-Break away from peloton.
What's that dog doing in that egg?!
Winning Cover Letter
- Attention: Human Resources or Potential Employer,
Hello and good day. My name is Nate S. and I would be perfect for your company or for-profit organization. As you can see, I am extremely good at writing cover letters. Imagine, if you will, having an honest, loving,and gentle-yet-firm employee on your staff. I can be that staff member. I have numerous skills and resources—almost too many to list in this cover letter. It would be in our best interests if you perused this letter, the attached resume, and the enclosed 8x10 glossy headshot. Note the quality of the paper that this is on. It’s 20 lb.-84 Brightness recycled copier paper I borrowed from my previous industry leading employer. Please ignore any coffee stains.
According to a book I found on the street titled “Writing the Perfect Cover Letter and Landing the Job of Your Dreams, ©1972,” the second paragraph of a letter of intent should describe how I would benefit the company I am applying for. Let me tell you a little secret up front, for twenty-eight grand a year I will do anything you ask me to. Anything. Think about that for a moment.
Let’s put formalities aside and skip right to the interview. I’ll pretend I’m you. I’ll pretend I’m me too.
Potential Employer: It’s been an absolute pleasure to have you here in this interviewing room. You’re so cordial and well groomed. When I think of astute leadership or someone with radical insight into what our target demographic demands, images of you immediately spring to mind. It was déjà vu when you walked in here. You’re like totally well-rounded, except good at only cool stuff and bad at the skills that mean nothing to us. Please tell me why you want to be a part of our team?
Nate: Well, I must say that I was quite intrigued with the way you replace all the S’s in your ad with dollar signs--$. I have always had a passion for whatever it is you do. I looked you up on Google hours before I agreed to come into this interview and I can honestly say that your company is Awesome with a capital A. In fact, I only apply to companies on the Fortune 500. I would never settle for anything less than those 500 companies to work for.
Potential Employer: So Nate, if you could possibly think of three personal weaknesses, what might they be?
Nate: Wow. That’s a tough question. It’s loaded like Phil Goldberg driving home from a Rite Aid drug run on a Saturday night. A question I find usually quite difficult to answer. I’d like to start out our relationship based on a foundation of truth, but It’s so hard to pick the correct three weaknesses that you’re not looking for. Had you rephrased the question, “Tell me 3 personal failures,” I could rapidly fire off a list of charming things I won’t succeed at or have failed at completely. Three weaknesses…hmm. I’m late to everything. I hate people. I couldn’t pass a drug test with a Brita filter and a cheesecloth. Umm…and I try to steal anything that’s not bolted to the floor. That was four? Oh. Scratch that last one.
Potential Employer: In light of our entire conversation, I have only one thing to say to you. You’re HIRED!
Nate: Thank you sir. You’ve made an excellent decision. Let’s discuss those vacation days. I’m going to need the next three months off. Oh, btw, are there signing bonuses at Foot Locker? Also, I think I hurt my wrist filling out the application. A little worker’s comp can take care of it.
The previous was just a sample of the kind of class and honor I can bring to your corporation. Make that WILL bring. If any of it sounds unpleasing, I’m only kidding. All kidding aside though, clearly, the words I wrote were an elaborate cryptographic code. Think about what the code means and take this moment to stare longingly into the eyes of me in my youthful headshot from 8 years ago.
Please, don’t hesitate to contact me. Daytime is fine—after 2:00 PM, when I wake up. Evening is okay too. With each day you hesitate, I could be swooped up by some other company I’d rather not work for. You are the company I want to work for most. Additionally, due to an impending personal financial crises, I may be relocating out of the NYC metro area. Contact me via electronic mail at email@example.com or via cellular telephone at 212-657-7951.
It’s been wonderful having this opportunity to write to you. Please keep me informed of any job offers coming down the poop chute at your place of employment. Thanks! :)
Very Truly Yours,
Brechtian Acting Theory in Professional Wrestling
- Live theatre can be an exhiilarating experience. Theatre illicits emotions like happiness and elation--rarely to never. But more often than not, the theatre creates a swirling tempest of rage, anger, and pity for the actors’ wasted lives deep within the heart of the viewer. There is one thespian troupe that comes to mind which, unlike most all others, is adored by millions and uses varying visual tapestries of stage acting methodology to create a response: The WWE.
At first glance it would seem like professional wrestlers are students of the classic Stanislavski actor’s method or even a modernist William H. Macy school of thought. However, the more one watches, the more one sees the true Bertolt Brechtian nature of the squared circle and the people who occupy it. The theatrical 4th wall is ripped down like a poster written in heartless jock font saying “winneroftheSAT luvs fagz” on the outside of his high school locker. Wrestlers frequently employ Brecht’s idea, the Verfremdungseffekt, in which they purposely make things strange. What ensues is an alienation with the audience--the audience then fully realizing that what they are watching is indeed a theatrical event and not something hoping to pass itself off as realism.
I have compiled a list of strange Brechtian things to watch out for the next time you watch WWE because I assume all of you are lovers of theatre and professional wrestling. These are things that make me feel alienated.
Green Poison: Most commonly used by Japanese wrestlers such as Tajiri, this toxic green poison is stored in the mouth. When the match seems to be going in favor of whoever Tajiri is wrestling, he will secretly spit about one liter of nickelodeon green poison onto that person’s face in a manner unseen by the referree. The referree will continue to not notice that Tajiri’s opponent’s entire face and upper torso is covered by said poison. Sadly, this green poison, when in contact with the sensitive mucous membrances near the eyes causes searing unending pain, blindness, and a fluttering nystagmus. In some cases, such as the case of WWE Diva Nidia, the poison will cause you to take a one month leave of absence, and when you return you will have bigger breast implants. This same biohazardous green poison never kills Tajiri. Bertolt Brecht would applaud.
Lazy Stagehands: As much as I am pro-union, the stagehands that the WWE uses are notorious for leaving their tools just laying around under the ring. It’s the weirdest thing though! The tools are never rope spinners or canvas stretchers. Often, they leave the darndest things sitting there like iron sledgehammers, 2x4s wrapped in barbwire, steel chairs, garbage can lids, kendo sticks, cinder blocks, and chainmail sacks filled with thumbtacks. The space under the ring is no place to forgetfully leave such dangerous objects. While the untrained critic might think that the stagehands should get their shit together, Brecht and I would probably be clapping modestly.
The Missed Manuever: How many times have we seen someone like Chris Benoit leap from the top turnbuckle with the full intention of delivering an earthshattering flying headbutt only to watch someone like Triple H roll out of the way of the devastating manuever? It’s like the sun rising in the morning or my neighbor stealing my New York Times--It happens daily. It’s safe to assume that if the flying headbutt connects, the average person’s neck would snap like a pretzel rod. However, when Benoit misses he usually is seen laying unconscious for several minutes until he is rudely grabbed by an opponent and beaten more senseless. 2-bit theatre goers might call out, “This is a mockery of all things true!” But a student of Brecht would call out, “Bravo! Bra....vo!”
A.D.D. Referree: The referree is a bastion of order in a world of chaos. They try to do good. Some say they try to do well. Referees, like me and some of you, have only two eyes with which to see, 10 fingers with which to count, and one arm with which to slap the mat. Technically they have two arms. However, often the poor referee is thrust into what seems like a poorly acted Three’s Company episode. The ref fails to hear something--like the ringing of a chair to a skull, he might misunderstand the situation at hand--like the wrestler making the pin is really the twin brother of the legal man and therefore not allowed to be in the ring, and refs get easily distracted--one tag team partner might threaten to walk into the ring meanwhile his partner is punching their opponents in their penises. A ref can’t always be expected to watch what’s going on, even though that’s clearly what he gets paid to do. A realist might cry, “Reinstate the replay in wrestling!” Or, “Let’s use a dual ref system!” Brecht would cry, “Those are good ideas!” However, Brecht would never constrict his actors to such dull and dreary contraints.
Coke C2: An Essay
- With a smile and a wink, I flip-tossed some quarters to the clerk at nearby Manuel’s Carry-out and hit the sun drenched street with an ice cold 20 oz. bottle of Coca Cola’s new C2 clutched firmly in my mitts. Birds were chirping at the arrival of a glorious new day. Later Manuel! Wow. I can’t believe C2 is finally here! It’s the low carb alternative to Coke that I have been waiting almost the entire past three years for. First Subway gave me low carb flatbread—delicious! Then Frito Lay gave me low carb Doritos—exquisite! And now finally, I have something for my extreme low carb lifestyle to wash down my sandwich and my chips besides Mich Ultra. Although I’d love to, I can’t wash everything down with beer. C2—it’s in my hand! Is my palm sweating or is that just the condensation? Probably a little of both, I’m certain. Oh, what a moment to be alive!
The packaging may look similar, but don’t be tricked, the classic Coke red is outlined with gunmetal grey trim and has a commanding alphanumeric C2 snuggled powerfully under the timeless Coca-Cola script. The bottle fits comfortably. I think it’s time to finally taste this baby. With some marginal effort the cap untwists and the captive bubbles race to the top in jubilation—fighting to be the first to reach my senses, like a sperm pursuing an ovum or a Pamplona bull raging after a Spaniard. With the intrepidness of a man staring down the sun, I lift the bottle to my gaping mouth. Closer and closer it comes to my ravenous maw. Almost there! I tilt!
OH fucking hell! Jesus mary joseph! Ack! ughh! Christ help me! Why did this happen? Oh dear lord! What is this crap?! Spew!!!! Where did this come from?? WHY ME!?! *pukes everywhere, repeatedly* My precious tongue and mouth! Forgive me father!
What the heck is this?!? Is this some kind of sick joke? This is like acid reflux in a bottle. Honestly, what IS this stuff?? Who’s idea was C2?! I am so offended. What’s going on here? It tastes like crème soda with a sprinkling of rusty nail filings. It’s like licking the underside of your father’s 1985 Toyota Tercel. It’s like drinking a chrome boombox that has been pushed through a juicer. It’s that bad.
C2 does not have the crisp taste of Coke. And it certainly tastes three or maybe four times nastier than Diet Coke. Let’s discuss the target audience. C2 is for people who want less carbs than a regular soda but apparently don’t want the zero carbs of a diet soda. Even my sentences that are meant to be objective and informative about this product drip with spite. This same non-diabetic target audience of maniacs loathes the taste of Diet Coke, yet in sensational paralogical rationale, they don’t mind that all of the ingredients of Diet Coke are in this new mess of a soda. It contains 45 calories and 12 grams of carbs per 8 ounce serving. Compared to Diet Coke, it contains 4500% more calories and with Coca Cola Classic it merely cuts the calories in half. Why would someone who is trying to get skinny want to drink a beverage that makes them 4500% more likely to be fat? Is my math fuzzy? No. Is my C2 still fizzy? Barely.
Take a look at the ingredients. Carbonated water, High fructose corn syrup, caramel color…the usual suspects—so far so good. Whoa whoa whoa. At the bottom of the list: aspartame, acesulfame potassium, AND sucralose? That is a certified artificial sweetner brain rotting-baby aborting-liver enlarging trifecta unseen before in the history of sodas. Acesulfame postassium, known as Ace K on the streets, is found in Trident and Pepsi One: two delicious products I can say nothing bad about. However, Sucralose, the new kid on the block, is produced by chlorinating sugar. As we all know, chlorinated molecules are the basis of pesticides such as DDT—the same pesticide that was banned years ago because it nearly wiped out America’s Bald Eagle population.
How can something with three passable tasting sweetners possibly taste this gut wrenchingly wretched when combined? Clearly, Coke hates each and every one of us. So does Pepsi too, you’ll see Pepsi Edge sniveling on the shelves as well.
In a shocking display of corporate honesty, Coca Cola is running ads for C2 set to the Rolling Stones song, “You Can’t Always Get What you Want.” Truer words were never sung. The lyric, “And If you try sometime, You might get what you need,” most likely refers to a consumer’s basic need for some sort of amnesia pill which would make one forget all about ever buying C2 in the first place.
This so-called beverage has ruined my day. You can C2 it that I will never buy it again. I can guarantee that you won’t C2 people purchase this ridiculous pop. It’s like C2: Judgement Day, and the judgement is: It sucks! You won’t C2 much of it on the shelves in another month or so.
On a side note: I will NEVER shop at Manuel’s Carry-out again. NE-VER!
So in addition to boycotting C2 and all the places that carry it, I think it’s time for me to stop laying on the floor at Barnes and Noble reading that Atkins Diet book. And no, I still won’t buy it. I will leave it there in a pile…forever! Historians and anthropologists of the future—most likely those on VH1—will look back on this year in history as the year the Atkins craze imploded. And it’s safe to blame it all on C2. It’s too much. Too stupid. Just drink Diet! Or Water! Or join Weight Watchers! Or just accept the fact that you will always be overweight no matter what you do…unless of course, you actually exercise for once in your life. Yep, I’m done with Atkins. I’m going to eat til I’m fat again all because I hate C2 and what it stands for with every ounce of my being.
And when I’m wholly fat once more—sort of like King Arthur being the once and future king, except substitute “fat person” for king—I will rest on my couch with a Coca Cola Classic. However, you won’t ever see me relaxing with a C2 on my settee.