Why: because its about time!
Please see - http://buzz.yahoo.com/buzzlog/93080?fp=1
In a time when national security is at the forefront of many American minds, given Iran and North Korea's nuclear expansion, Taliban and Al-Qaeda resurgence in Afghanistan, and terroristic threats throughout the Middle East, the United States government has made the strategic decision to strike the very target we have all truly truly feared since the dawn of time...the moon. I, for one, applaud this noble effort, and can only pray our fellow allies will follow in our footsteps to eradicate this ever-present enemy from our lives.
To be clear, NASA has crashed into the moon's surface both the Lunar Crater Observation and its Sensing Satellite (LCROSS) with the hopes of revealing whether any ice or water lies under the moon's surface. "When the twin crafts hit the lunar surface at around 6,000 mph, NASA expects "plumes of moon dust — perhaps full of ice — (to soar) 6.2 miles high above the moon's Cabeus crater." The cost? 79 million.
Who can possibly worry about such trivial issues as proliferation of nuclear weapons and the fact Osama Bin Laden is alive and well, when the question of whether ice or water lies below the surface of the moon remains unanswered?! I can only salute NASA in its endeavors to spend my tax dollars on pressing issues of the age. And, I must be honest, a day has rarely gone by when I've not said to myself, "damn the moon looks wet and icy! We must investigate!" So I say, forget the threat of nuclear holocaust! Forget international peacekeeping! Let's take out the real axis of evil...the moon! Let's build some multi-million dollar satellites, launch them into space...and point them directly between the eyes of the man on the moon and take him out!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
The Gallon of Downy Soap that Spilled in the Trunk of My Car
Why: Even Exxon is glad this "spill" didn't happen to them
The set of events unleashed by the "spill of 09" can only be described as "Valdez-ish". It all started as an innocent Saturday afternoon. I had just bought my first television since 1996 and was heading home to gaze in all its glory, but had to first stop by Cowboy Chicken, where my comedic friend, and dealer in rotisserie chicken, Bredow, was going to drop off 2 gallons of downy soap previously purchased earlier that afternoon at Sam's. It was after opening the trunk of my car, and hearing Bredow say the magical words, "oh shit", when I realized the day had taken a horrible turn. Approximately half of each gallon had spilled into the trunk, seeping into every inch of the fabric. Twenty minutes later, I found myself in the back of Cowboy Chicken, covered in water, as Bredow and I frantically attempted to rid the trunk of everything Downy with a hose comondered from the restaurant. It was then, with the contents of the trunk spread out along the alley floor and my trusted friend Bredow inside the restaurant, when the bee made its attack! From out of nowhere, this bee, which could only be described as Mothra, bore down on me. After running around with my arms flailing about me the bee returned from the hell it came from.
This story is fucking ridiculous. I've had just about enought of it. In short, we got most of the soap out thanks to a high pressure water hose, a car wash that almost destroyed my car, a claustrophobic anxiety attack, and a dissapearing/reappearing car wash attendant. Whatever was left dried out. And just FYI, there's a drain in every car's spare tire basin.
The set of events unleashed by the "spill of 09" can only be described as "Valdez-ish". It all started as an innocent Saturday afternoon. I had just bought my first television since 1996 and was heading home to gaze in all its glory, but had to first stop by Cowboy Chicken, where my comedic friend, and dealer in rotisserie chicken, Bredow, was going to drop off 2 gallons of downy soap previously purchased earlier that afternoon at Sam's. It was after opening the trunk of my car, and hearing Bredow say the magical words, "oh shit", when I realized the day had taken a horrible turn. Approximately half of each gallon had spilled into the trunk, seeping into every inch of the fabric. Twenty minutes later, I found myself in the back of Cowboy Chicken, covered in water, as Bredow and I frantically attempted to rid the trunk of everything Downy with a hose comondered from the restaurant. It was then, with the contents of the trunk spread out along the alley floor and my trusted friend Bredow inside the restaurant, when the bee made its attack! From out of nowhere, this bee, which could only be described as Mothra, bore down on me. After running around with my arms flailing about me the bee returned from the hell it came from.
This story is fucking ridiculous. I've had just about enought of it. In short, we got most of the soap out thanks to a high pressure water hose, a car wash that almost destroyed my car, a claustrophobic anxiety attack, and a dissapearing/reappearing car wash attendant. Whatever was left dried out. And just FYI, there's a drain in every car's spare tire basin.
Monday, August 10, 2009
The Guy on the Bike in Front of Me is Now Standing in Front of Me at Starbucks
Why: Because you do not need to be wearing a blue aerodynamic helmet to order a venti iced coffee
Take off the helmet! We all know you are trying to move as aerodynamically as possible, but are you that worried physics may keep you from your tasty beverage for an additional .000000000000000000000007 seconds? It is a simple two-step process:
1. Elevate arm to chin
2. Take off helmet
Yes, you have two favorite things in life - bikes and spandex - but it is not necessary to continue to prove the point.
Take off the helmet! We all know you are trying to move as aerodynamically as possible, but are you that worried physics may keep you from your tasty beverage for an additional .000000000000000000000007 seconds? It is a simple two-step process:
1. Elevate arm to chin
2. Take off helmet
Yes, you have two favorite things in life - bikes and spandex - but it is not necessary to continue to prove the point.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Coldplay
Why: If I want to listen to Radiohead, I listen to Radiohead. If I want to listen to a band wishing it was Radiohead, I listen to Coldplay.
Is it Halloween? Seriously...what is with the 19th century French military get-up? You're not French and I doubt the military would even want you. In fact, the costumes do not even look French, but more US circa WWII (a war in which the French managed to do less than your band does). And what is with the pop-ness (yeah, I said pop-ness) of your songs? Does your keyboardist sneak into your studio in the middle of the night and re-write all the songs? Look, get the pen away from Ryan Seacrest and write some real songs - NOT Radiohead meets Timbaland.
Is it Halloween? Seriously...what is with the 19th century French military get-up? You're not French and I doubt the military would even want you. In fact, the costumes do not even look French, but more US circa WWII (a war in which the French managed to do less than your band does). And what is with the pop-ness (yeah, I said pop-ness) of your songs? Does your keyboardist sneak into your studio in the middle of the night and re-write all the songs? Look, get the pen away from Ryan Seacrest and write some real songs - NOT Radiohead meets Timbaland.
Monday, August 3, 2009
The Mouse in My Apartment
Why: Because if he's not helping with rent, he's not staying here.
The current attempt at catching Fievel involves my trash can, peanut butter, foil, and a ramp (into the trash can). This is not a joke. This contraption is currently assembled in my kitchen. Of course, I do think this is more effective than my plan to shame it into leaving by insulting it. It was not pretty. I actually felt the need to apologize for some of the things I said.
Post capture plan: GLADIATOR MICE!! - http://flimmr.passagen.se/movie/family_guy_gladiator_mice.action.
The current attempt at catching Fievel involves my trash can, peanut butter, foil, and a ramp (into the trash can). This is not a joke. This contraption is currently assembled in my kitchen. Of course, I do think this is more effective than my plan to shame it into leaving by insulting it. It was not pretty. I actually felt the need to apologize for some of the things I said.
Post capture plan: GLADIATOR MICE!! - http://flimmr.passagen.se/movie/family_guy_gladiator_mice.action.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
The Guy on the Bike in Front of Me
Why: Because you're not a car.
Look...just because you wear a yellow spandex shirt does not make you Lance Armstrong and does not make Hillcrest one of the stages of the Tour De France. And your arm thing as some sort of turn signal? Really? Who came up with that? Yes, I know you're turning left. You know how I know? Because you're in front of me in the left turn only lane! Seriously...why did we build you the Katy and White Rock Trials? Oh, I'm sorry, do the runners slow you down?!
Look...just because you wear a yellow spandex shirt does not make you Lance Armstrong and does not make Hillcrest one of the stages of the Tour De France. And your arm thing as some sort of turn signal? Really? Who came up with that? Yes, I know you're turning left. You know how I know? Because you're in front of me in the left turn only lane! Seriously...why did we build you the Katy and White Rock Trials? Oh, I'm sorry, do the runners slow you down?!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)