I have gone from hating Tebow to liking him for the sole purpose of watching EVERYONE ELSE squirm. Hell, I hated how much attention he has gotten for so fucking long, but still, seeing everyone else moan and bitch about the coverage he is getting, I take a morbid sense of delight in this.
Am I bad person because I like people to suffer over Tebow?
No, it's all right. It's a classic troll move, which is fitting when dealing with Tim Tebow because Tebow is such a big fan of God, WHO IS THE ULTIMATE TROLL.
Think about it. There's no way God isn't some kind of all-knowing Internet troll. He wrote a handbook for people with hundreds of conflicting instructions. He sends plagues. He kills the innocent at random. He is SEXISS. He's clearly just trying to get our goats. I bet he sees Tebow praying to him after a touchdown and he just sits there laughing his ass off, knowing how much Tebow's success is grating on most of us.
As much as I'd like to join you in your quest to see Tebow irritate the masses, I can't. I still want to see him fail. The praying after that Jets TD was too much for me. Like that guy doesn't know there will be cameras on him the second he drops to one knee. He's showing off his piety, dammit. If I were a Jesus freak, I'd be pissed at him for rallying all the Jesus haters to a common cause. No one sees Tim Tebow score a touchdown and then is like, "Whoa, he scored! I better get my ass to church!"
Also, Easterbrook and Simmons have conspired together to love Tebow, and I can't get on board with that. Simmons even used the term "saber nerds" last week. Soon he'll be going off his meds during HBO roundtable discussions.
Why is it I (and everyone else I know) get so excited to hear a song I know and like on the radio? I was driving my girlfriend to the airport when an Adele song came on and it pleased her in ways I cannot. Nevermind the fact that she listens to this song at least three times a day and will soon enough be on a plane where she'll have nothing better to do except listen to that song on her iPod. Doesn't matter. It made her night. Then, on the ride back, Pink Floyd came on and it pretty much made my night. So much more satisfying than playing it myself. WEIRD. Lofty.
I get the same sensation, and I think there are four reasons for it. First off, when I hear a song I like on the radio, I feel like it vindicates my taste in music. Now this is a fallacy, because radio stations play nothing but god awful dogshit. In fact, it's a DAMNING INDICTMENT of my taste in music. But no matter. You hear that song on the radio and you think to yourself, "America has finally seen the light and jumped on board the Adele Express!" There are editors at Entertainment Weekly still fingerblasting themselves over Adele's stateside success.
Secondly, there's the idea that you're engaging in a shared listening experience, with other people in other cars jamming along with you. For some reason, that sense of invisible camaraderie makes it a little more exciting. WE ARE ALL IN THIS SONG TOGETHER! MAYBE I WON'T DIE ALONE!
Third, it makes you proud of the artist's success. I've followed the Black Keys for a while, and the first time I heard "Tighten Up" on the radio, I was fucking ecstatic. I wanted to buy them a graduation present. GOOD FOR YOU, BAND WHO I DO NOT KNOW PERSONALLY. I also get excited whenever one of my favorite bands is on SNL, even though most SNL live performances are horrible.
Last thing: I don't know if this is still industry practice, but most radio stations speed up the track so that they can get to the 90-minute commercial block faster. And songs are always more energetic when they're played all fast and hard and thrusty. Your favorite song sounds DIFFERENT on the radio, and so it's like listening to another version. I wish I could speed up every song I own to near Chipmunk speed, but apparently doing that with mp3s isn't so easy.
Do you think you could execute a routine NFL handoff from under center?
With no practice? I say it's unlikely. You'd have to be able to anticipate the timing and speed of the snap (seriously, some centers snap the ball really hard and it hurts like the dickens), then you'd have to back away from the line fast enough to not get your feet mashed, and then you'd have to execute the handoff with the d-line bearing down on you and everyone watching: friends, family, hot women you want to have sex with, etc. I know I'd fuck it up. I put my hands under the center's ass, get a snap that breaks my finger, crumple to the ground screaming in pain, and then get cleated in the face by eight guys, including many members of my own team. Then my kids would disavow their blood ties to me and every fan would pelt me with cups of beer and old piss. Fucking SWEET. Oh, what I'd pay for the privilege.
How annoying is it when you're backed up in traffic at a red light and you see the light turn green in the distance, but you don't actually move forward for what seems like an eternity? The car in front moves, then a second later the second car, then a second later the third, etc., and by the time it's your turn to move, the light is already back to red again.
It's awful, and I spend all that time sitting still trying to sort out just WHY people in front of me aren't moving yet. I visualize every other driver being irresponsible and failing to notice the advance of traffic. Fucking red Prius driver. I bet he's sending out a PR release for ChimeIn. And that Mack truck! I bet Billyjoejimbob in the Mack truck finally fell asleep after a 26-hour shift fueled by nothing but Hannity audiobooks and ephedrine. GODDAMN REDNECK SACK OF SHIT.
It's even worse when some fuckhead ahead of you stops to let a bunch of deadbeat drivers from a side road turn into the flow of traffic, wasting precious minutes advancing upon the light. Fucking do-gooders. I start yelling the second they let in more than one. WHY ARE YOU LETTING IN TWO CARS? SOME OF US HAVE LIVES!
For the rest of your life you can only have hot water or cold water to drink, shower, wash your clothes, everything. What do you chose? I don't think I could part with hot showers, but the thought of then having to drink hot water on a summer day makes me retch.
I take hot water because a cold shower is such a horrible, depressing way to start a day. I couldn't deal with it. I'd feel like I was in prison. Plus, getting rid of cold water would give me a convenient excuse to drink nothing but carbonated beverages to refresh myself. I drink so much seltzer, my wife has gotten legitimately upset about it.
WIFE: Did you drink TWO bottles of seltzer today?
WIFE: You're drinking too much.
ME: Dude, it's not Jager. It's fucking carbonated water. If my biggest flaw is that I drink too much seltzer, then you married Gandhi. EVERY WOMAN SHOULD BE LUCKY TO HAVE THIS GOOD THING.
WIFE: (forces me to take out the recycling)
Also, washing dishes with cold water would take fifteen hours. Hot water all the way. HOWEVER, if you changed the question to include ALL liquids, then I'd be a real tight spot. Warm seltzer tastes like Chris Berman's ballsweat.
Discounting truck drivers and old people, who in their right mind voluntarily drives in the middle lane on a three lane highway?
Men with wives. Wives don't like you driving all the way in the left hand lane, because that means you're going too fast and endangering the children, and because the occasional asshole in an '82 Thunderbird will come up and anally rape your hatchback by tailgating you at 95mph. So you have to drive in the middle lane because driving in the right hand lane is to admit TOTAL fucking defeat, and because staying in the right lane means dealing with shitheads who want to merge at the exact wrong speed. So there you go. If you see some dude camped out in the middle lane, that's me. I'm not here to start any trouble.
Vegans can't eat any animal byproducts, right? So doesn't that mean vegan girls can't swallow? Wikipedia says veganism allows an exception for human byproducts (possibly for this exact purpose?!), but it needs citations so fuck that.
Veganism doesn't include human byproducts because of breast milk. Vegans are cool with breastfeeding. Probably too cool with it. If you see some barefoot lady in Washington Square park emptying her teat into a little rugrat with no sheet covering her, that's probably a vegan.
The elevator in my building has a little video screen that flashes sports, weather, and news updates, as well as the occassional fun fact. Today the screen told me that a bathroom in a museum in Chicago was selected as best bathroom in the country by some organization that rates bathrooms. What criteria would you use to evaluate and rank bathrooms?
I love that screen. That screen gives me something to fix my eyes on so that I don't have to speak with or notice any of the other assholes in the elevator. It's a real lifesaver. I also like it when it gives out financial tips that I would NEVER bothering implementing. Consider putting my money in corn futures? YOU BET I WILL!
Anyway, I judge all public bathrooms based on the following criteria (ranked in order):
2. Ability to lock the door and prevent other people from getting in.
3. Thickness, absorbency of toilet paper.
4. Paper towel option to dry hands (or Dyson AirBlade)
5. Coolness of toilet flush. If it's some kind of flushing mechanism that I've never used before, I'm utterly transfixed.
6. Coolness of sink faucets. Lots of newer restaurants have all kind of crazy faucet action going on. One faucet I used looked like a waterfall, with a broad canal elegantly depositing the water onto my hands. LUXURY.
7. Presence of reading materials (because I'm too cheap to buy an iPhone).
8. Lack of bathroom attendant
——IF THE BATHROOM HAS NO LOCK——
9. Partitions between shitters
10. Spacing between urinals
My office has a number of containers for a local food bank. My wife packs my lunch usually and absolutely forbids me from eating the tasty yet high blood pressure inducing canned soups I like. So, I am usually stuck with some Healthy Choice bullshit that, no matter how much salt and pepper I add, just does not cut it. So, I am off to the cafeteria to microwave said blandness when I see a can of Chunky Sirloin Burger with its 1,000,000 mg of sodium of goodness sitting in the bin for the foodbank. Making sure no one is looking I switch out my Healthy Choice for the Chunky. I'm a dick, right?
You fool. Don't EVER switch your own personal canned items with donated canned items. Not because it's selfish, which is fine by me, but because it's UNSAFE. People only donate cans that they know contain BOTULISM, or canned goods that the baby accidentally took a shit on. That's tainted food, my friend. Todd Haley has been known to put razor blades in all his canned food donations. BEWARE.
More to the point, don't ever eat canned soup. Canned soup is ass. You can make your own for roughly a quarter of the price. You can make chili. You can make chicken noodle. You can make soups that have coconut milk in them (NOTE: Pretty much anything with coconut milk is like a bowl full of orgasm). It's not hard, definitely not "making your own pasta" hard. People who tell you making your own pasta is easy need a fist to the kidneys.
One of the side benefits of learning to cook is that, once you have kids, cooking is a perfect excuse to shove the parenting duties onto your spouse. I purposely choose recipes that take FOREVER to make, so that someone else has to stop the kids from trying to run over each other with scooters and shit. Then dinner is ready and everyone THANKS me for all that hard labor. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Naive fools. I've been drinking and eating handfuls of butterscotch chips the whole time!
Does it matter more for rape victims "where" they are raped (back stairs, in front of their car, etc..) or "when" they are raped (time of day, noon, supper time, etc..)?
Most of my friends' initial response was to say "where" matters more because memories of that place will haunt you forever. If you get raped in a park across the street from your house or in the bread aisle at the supermarket you will never feel comfortable or safe there again. But the compelling argument for "when" is, if you get raped as you wake up or at breakfast, you are never going to sleep or truly enjoy a danish ever again without looking over your shoulder every 30 seconds.
I don't think you can categorize one as being absolutely worse than the other, because memories don't work that way. For example, let's say someone attacks you and you fall to the ground in shock, and while they're kicking your ass, you stare a tea kettle on the counter for reasons that escape you. Then, once the attack is over, you're fixated on tea kettles and THAT is what you link to the memory of a traumatic event. There's no way of predicting what object or setting will be the trigger. You may get stabbed on Valentine's Day and the date may not stick with you as much as some other random aspect of the event.
Also, there doesn't have to be ONE trigger to cause a flashback. It could be multiple things, or it could be something that didn't bother you at first but, years later, does start to bother you. There is shit that floods into your memory that you can't explain, like a random song getting stuck in your head. You can't see it coming. For example, I spent all weekend thinking about Toffifay, even though A) I haven't had a Toffifay in ages, and B) I didn't see or hear anything that reminded me of Toffifay. Remember when old game shows like "Sale of the Century" gave out Toffifay as a consolation prize? Man, I would have been pissed about that.
The point is, whether or not we're talking candy or rape, memories are too abstract to put into easy rankings.
How come in any zombie apocalypse scenario, it takes people/the entire human race a while to figure out what's going on? Seriously, does zombie lore not exist in these worlds? I mean it has to because a lot of these stories use the word "zombie," and people don't just come up with that word out of thin air. But the characters in these stories take forever to connect the dots of a basic zombie uprising, and usually by the time they do they're all fucked. Honestly, if there were reports of people attacking and biting each other all across the country as the result of some mysterious virus, it would literally take me 2 seconds to realize we were on the cusp of the zombie apocalypse.
That's true. But then, if you went around during a zombie apocalypse spouting off everything pop culture has taught you about zombies, everyone would get really annoyed with you. You'd be like Jamie Kennedy in Scream. You'd be the wink-wink meta character in a world gone horribly wrong, and I suspect that people would have little tolerance for irony in that kind of situation, and then they'd shoot you in the leg and leave you as a distraction for the wandering zombie hordes. "Oh, we should make sure we have a redneck who knows how to use a crossbow? HARDY HAR HAR, ASSHOLE." By the way, here's Gabe's Videogum recap of "The Walking Dead." I finally stopped watching that show because it made no fucking sense and because Dale wears a 1970's wacky sitcom neighbor hat. Dale's an idiot.
What is the likelihood that there will ever be a button on my remote to just completely cut-out the commentary and leaves me with just the game sounds? I don't think it would make sense for any TV channel to entirely remove them from the broadcast, that would be too jarring. But how nice it would be to just watch an intense basketball or football game and just hear the live-game sound, the shoes squeaking on the floor, the crowd, Kobe belittling his teammates etc? And if you wanted clarification or explanation on something, you can switch the commentary back on.
I think that's probably the next great step in television innovation: the ability to produce programming as you see fit. In the future, you'll probably be able to dictate your own camera angles, perhaps even add your favorite music. All those elements will be separated and you'll be able to control them with your remote, which is great if you hate Gruden and Jaws as much as I do. You can only take this kind of technology so far, because I'm very lazy and I kind of like it when a show is produced for me. But the ability to change sounds or block out announcers or view different angles sounds doable. Oh, what I'd give to be able to mute Mooch on NFL GameDay Final. He's fucking intolerable.
Let's say, for whatever reason, the world has changed so that you can no longer listen to music unless you give a blowjob to the artist(s) that make that music. You only have to do it once for each artist, but you have to go down on everyone in the band. Which bands do you go for?
Before you ask: You get the alive versions of dead people - you don't have to go digging up Mozart's decaying boner if you want to listen to Concerto #5. I also don't care who wrote the thing, just who performs it (so Elvis is just Elvis not the 100 people whose songs he played). And obviously if the same thing applied to female musicians you'd choose to go down on Alicia Keys regardless of getting to listen to her play, so let's just ignore women musicians for the sake of simplicity.
Do you listen to nothing? Only a couple bands? Or do you just go crazy and get it over with so you can have your music?
Does this include backing bands and session musicians? What if I have to blow an ORCHESTRA? I don't object out of homosexual panic, I object out of sheer workload. I can barely be bothered to go through the process of downloading a new album, which takes MERE SECONDS. That's how unfathomably lazy I am. So if you're telling me that the only way I can listen to "Reckoner" is if I blow every member of Radiohead PLUS the cellist they brought in for the day? I can't do that. I don't have time. I have kids to raise. I can't go just around blowing every musician in sight. I wouldn't get anything done.
So I'd probably end up listening to nothing, and then a bunch of gay activists would get really mad at me and be like, "Why aren't you blowing more singers? IS IT BECAUSE YOU HATE GAYS?" And then I'd end up blowing Josh Homme just so I don't look like a gay basher. By the way, this scenario offers real value with musicians who play every instrument on their records, like Prince. All of Prince's music would vault to the top of the charts if Billboard made BlowjobScan mandatory.
Do you ever wonder if a professional athlete of the 4 major sports in the U.S. was/is a serial killer? I think it would hard for an NFL player to fly under the radar and be, "the quiet neighbor who never caused a problem" due to his size. Same goes for most basketball players. So, realistically speaking, baseball and a handful of hockey players could be going Dahmer on citizens during the off-season... Or even ballsier, during the season!
It's doubtful that any active pro athlete is a serial killer, mostly because serial killers aren't exactly a huge portion of a population. I mean, how many active serial killers are out there at any given time? Five? Also, if one of them WERE a serial killer, our own AJ Daulerio would have already secured photos of the killer posing nude in front of his mirror. Or the killer himself would accidentally tweet GOIN' STABBN' Y'ALL to all of his followers. I think that maybe someone like Ty Cobb was a serial killer, back in the day when sportswriters would gloss over such ugly facts for the sake of access. "What's that? The Mick likes disembodying the broads? Why, that's poppycock, I tells ya! The Mick would never do somethin' like that, Chief! We had drinks at Toots McFartys last week!"
That said, I don't think it would be THAT hard for a current pro athlete to become a serial killer. Thanks to groupies and Twitter, you already have a potential victim pool set to go. And you travel from city to city already, so you could keep your location random. There's a whole shitty ESPN original series to be made from this concept. He's a pitcher AND a killer, AND HE'S FROM BOSTON.
Email of the week time.
So I go into McDonalds for the only thing they do well (breakfast) to get a steak bagel. These things are greasy as hell and make a huge mess, but for some reason they compound the problem by putting butter on the bagel before the pile of greasy "steak". I order the steak bagel with no butter and when I get to my table and open it up, it's fucking slathered in the shit. I go back up and the follow conversation ensues:
Me: "Excuse me, I ordered this without butter."
Her: "We don't put butter on those."
Me: "Well what's this then?"
Her: "Oh that? That's sauce."
Me: "Sauce? What kind of sauce?"
Her: (AND I SWEAR TO GOD I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP) "It's a buttery sauce."
Is there a jury in the world that would put me in jail if I had beaten her to death with a lunch tray? Did I miss an opportunity to find out what murder feels like, consequence free?
Probably. I'm sure that she was technically correct and that what she gave you wasn't real butter (because real butter is expensive), and was some kind of partially hydrogenated pig hoof spread. But it was butter IN SPIRIT, and the bitch should have known better.