I was watching "House" last night and there was a wedding scene in the beginning where the priest turns to the congregation and asks if anyone has any objection to the union. You know, the whole "speak now of forever hold your peace" thing. I have been to dozens of weddings in my lifetime, and not once have I seen this clichéd bit included in the actual ceremony. Even at the ultra-religious weddings, where the couple has little say over how the ceremony is written or presented, has this part been included. It's horseshit. No one would ever make this part of a real wedding, because no one's dumb enough to include an invitation to any fucking idiot in the crowd to pipe up and ruin the fucking thing. I want one of two things to happen:
1) This whole part of the ceremony is abolished forever from pop culture. No movie or TV show worth a shit can have this as part of a wedding scene, because it's never used in real life and immediately sets off any reasonable person's bullshit detector, or…
2) All real life couples MUST include this in their wedding ceremony script, and every fourth wedding I attend must feature another man standing up to object to the wedding and declaring that he's still banging the bride.
Those are the two options. I am sick to death of pop culture leading me to assume a good number of weddings will have dramatic interruptions when real life proves this is not the case. Every time I go to a wedding, I sit there and secretly hope some dipshit who is drunk and just watched The Graduate will come running into the chapel to sabotage the whole fucking thing. Then we guests get to eat for free anyway and gossip about it. "Did you SEE that shit? I can't believe the groom has been gay all along!" I don't think that's an unfair request.
In other news, congrats to Will Leitch on his upcoming wedding!
Speaking of Leitch, his book comes out today and you should buy that shit. Yes, the subtitle says it's about baseball (gay) and dads (double gay), but I've read the beginning of it and Leitch just uses that shit to really talk about getting loaded. So that's totally worth your time. More important, I'm the one who came up with the title of this fucking book, and I'll be goddamned if something I named ends up failing. "Are We Winning?" was one of many titles I brainstormed for Will. It's a real shame he didn't go with the one I liked the most: "Change-Up! Mystery at the World Series! by John Feinstein". That title would have killed.
As terrible as they are, shouldn't the Wonder Twins should be credited as the originators of the fist bump?
Only if we can name Gleek as the original AIDS monkey.
I am a good employee. Perhaps great (debatable). But every time I get an email or especially an IM from my manager's manager I think, 'Ohhh shit. This is it. I'm gonna get fucking canned.' She's super nice and a great manager and it's always just a normal email or IM. Same thing happens when my keycard doesn't work or I mistype my password to unlock my laptop and it returns the 'Invalid Password' message. Paranoid much?
Not at all. I always expect to be fired, even from this site. Daulerio really enjoys doing business on the phone for some reason, so I'll get an email from him once a month or so where he'll be like, "You have to call me," and that's when I immediately assume that Denton was eating a fucking salad somewhere and decided on a whim to sell Deadspin off to some Bangladesh cooperative that will fire us all and use the Deadspin URL to link to a mirror site for Megaupload, making the site 79 times more profitable in the process. It's only a matter of time.
I just got done watching all of Mad Men season three on DVD (it's fucking unreal, it's so good), and the thing that show really nails about the ad world, and about office work in general, is the fear you have as an employee at an ad agency that, one day, management will finally grow wise to the fact that you are a fucking useless fraud and they will shitcan you, and no one else will ever hire you again. Every person I know at every ad agency feels that way, because advertising itself is such an inherently useless business. No one even WATCHES ads anymore. There's a scene where Don says to Peggy, "There is nothing you've done here that I couldn't live without," and that is just the fucking cruelest, most accurate thing to say. Every person I knew who wrote or designed ads feared hearing something like that.
I used to sit at my desk and my boss would call me into the conference room and I'd think, "Okay, the jig is up. They know I'm just some fucking monkey who writes boring headlines and spends the rest of the day fucking around online. I'm through." And a couple of times, I was proven right because I really was being laid off. Pretty much validates every fear you have about your worth on this planet. It's not a good feeling.
It's also terrible when your folks pull the whole, "Do you have a couple minutes?" thing on the phone. You always assume your Dad is about to say, "Well, I have eight different kinds of cancer, and Mom is leaving me to marry an Italian." It's awful. Fucking Italians.
The model and size of the car make this plate all it can be.
Do you tie your shoes with a single knot or double knot? Here is a brief summary of the pros and cons of each:
SINGLE KNOT PRO: Easier to remove. It is even possible to remove the shoe while still tied by kicking semi-vigorously or just using the other foot. On occasion, the next day, I will force my feet into the shoes that are still tied the prior day.
SINGLE KNOT CON: Prone to untying while out and about. This presents dilemma of whether to stop and tie your shoes or just keep going.
DOUBLE KNOT PRO: If executed properly, a double knot will not untie while you are out and about.
DOUBLE KNOT CON: Oftentimes difficult to untie. Impossible to remove shoe unless untied (keep scissors handy just in case). When I want to remove my shoes at the end of a long day, for example, I am often bummed that I used a double knot.
You will not find a more thorough discourse on shoe-tying than the one FT has just provided. This is why I have abandoned laced shoes forever more. I just wear shit like this. Laces annoy me to death.
I'll wear sneakers while on a jog or something, and I will feel it when the single knot is coming undone, which just a horrible feeling. You know that shit is coming undone. You can't prevent it. You know you can stop and bend down and, if you're lucky, the knot is loose, but only requires a re-tugging. But it'll come loose again. Or you can do it all over again. Either way, you lose. And the double-knot blows because your feet often serve to tighten the knot as you go along. Oh, you may leave it a little loose at the start. But it won't matter. By the time your run is over, that knot is like a fucking xmas present ribbon. I hate tying my shoes, and I fucking hate untying knots of any kind. I do not have the nails for it.
When I was a kid, I used to buy Nike sneakers and all Nike sneakers come with laces that are roughly 50 yards too fucking long. So I used to see how many knots I could tie on a single shoe. I'm talking quintuple knots, sextuple knots, the whole fucking thing. Looked like a braid when I was done with it.
Lots of sneakers have a surplus of lace holes. In other words, you can thread the laces through a good portion of the shoe, but there are still a few "optional" pairs of lace holes running up the top, usually bored into hard plastic. The problem with these extra holes is that sometimes, the little Chinese fucker making your shoes didn't drill a big enough hole, so you really gotta rape the shit out of that hole with the end of the lace to get it through.
I don't like shoes.
When driving through a forest or alongside a wooded area, I always stare into the trees as I pass and fully anticipate seeing Bigfoot running through the forest. Am I alone in doing this?
It's even worse when you're out camping. I've gone camping or hiking on occasion and always hoped Bigfoot would pop out and, I dunno, wave his paws around or something. Or I'd camp by a lake and Nessie would come out. I don't think it's much to ask that this world be stocked with at least a half-dozen strategically placed mythical creatures. A unicorn, a chimera, and a Pegasus. We have trillions of other life forms on this planet, yet a flying horse is somehow out of the question? Mother Nature is a whore.
Whenever you hear loud noises that just might be gunshots do you immediately check the time and count the "shots" just for the chance that you could be the secret/star witness that has the facts that will blow the murder case wide open? It's never gunshots, but I do it anyway. It happened today (at 12:38PM CDT) while walking into work. I stopped counting at 15 when I decided it had to be fireworks ... or somebody I sure as fuck wasn't testifying against.
I always sit right up and ask the person next to me, "Did you hear that? Sounded like gunfire!" Then I spring to the window and see if a street war has erupted outside my window. It hasn't happened yet, but there will be a day, I tell you. That's the advantage of growing up in a place like Serbia or Baltimore. You know damn well which sounds are gunfire and which are not, and you have ample experience sleeping in a bathtub while clutching an infant to your chest.
Oh, Christ. No shit, cocksucker.
One of my classes is in a tiny room with the desks really close together. The other day, I was sitting behind this girl with her computer out, and I happened to glance at her gchat, which was VERY explicitly describing what she wanted to do to some dude. It escalated into full on gchat-sexing, complete with asking for dick pictures. Thank goodness he did not oblige, or she waited until after class to open them. Maybe its just because I'm a girl, but I feel like that's really weird to do in a classroom (or really anywhere). I've sat behind her a couple of other times, and literally every day she does this with the same dude. What if he's in class? Wouldn't he get an awkward boner in the middle of Chem 101?
I dunno, but I think we all need this girl's gmail account information right now, so that we can all assess the nuances of your particular situation. Also, what does she wear during class? Skirts? Halter tops? Does she hold her pencil tightly? All important details we require.
I'm sad I missed out on the sexting revolution. One reader emailed a month ago to complain that he has fantastic flirting skills when emailing and chatting, but is now married and unable to deploy them. I know the feeling, friend. This all could have been so useful to me in college. Maybe. Probably not. Definitely not.
I tried doing this once. Here is the story. I worked at this one ad agency (while single) and there was a cute girl. Turned out she was leaving the agency. This is what I emailed her. I swear to God, I wrote this.
Me: Oh, man. You're leaving?
Her: Yep! Today's my last day!
Me: That's too bad. We coulda hooked up.
That is fucking Tiger Woods game right there, people. Well done, past shithead me.
Anyway, I think Maggie enjoys peering in on the Chem 101 sexting. You can sit anywhere in class, yet you've chosen to sit behind this girl more than once. This tells me you're titillated by the sexy messages, and like to read them because you know you wouldn't do it yourself. AND YOU STILL YEARN FOR YOUR MOM'S APPROVAL. Boom! Analyzed.
Why is there not a function to CAPS a highlighted section of text like you can do with other font changes like italics, bold, underline, size etc? I wonder this at least once a day.
You can! SHIFT + F3. I just Googled for the answer after you asked, and now I feel like a fucking genie. I totally didn't know that before. My life is forever altered, for if there is anyone out there in need of a shortcut to uppercase lettering, IT'S ME GOD DAMMIT.
I've been watching a lot of Tru TV lately (the cold case shows and stuff like that), and I have to say, I think I could get away with murder. I'm not homicidal or anything, but while I'm watching the show I can't help but judge every person who gets caught. If I had the emotional capability of just going on with my life as if nothing happened, I think outsmarting the cops would be easy, right? I couldn't be the only person who thinks about this.
Of course you aren't. I think about killing someone every day, especially the four-year-old. WHY THE FUCK DO YOU KEEP PUSHING YOUR BROTHER, YOU LITTLE SHIT?!
Anyyyyway, you could not get away with murder because, as you said, "If I had the emotional capability of just going on with my life as if nothing happened…" and clearly you don't have that capability. You'd go all Raskolnikov after you axed that poor old lady to death, and eventually the guilt would compel you to turn yourself in or commit suicide. There are only a select few in the population who have that kickass serial killer gene that allows them to kill without remorse. SO COOL!
I've had dreams where I've killed people. I'm me in the dream, and I'm remembering that I got away with killing someone years ago, then I flash back within the dream to that killing. And then I wake up and I'm like, "Wait! I haven't killed anyone! WOOHOO I'M OFF THE HOOK!" It's an amazing feeling. Such a relief to wake up.
I have wondered on occasion if I could get away with murder by choosing a completely random target and murdering them and only them. No pattern. No motive. I'd hide behind a bush at night, wait for some jogger, and then BOOM! Right in the head with a hammer. Then I'd run home and burn my clothes and shower and wait. And I'd put the hammer IN THE DISHWASHER and wash it. Then place it back in my toolbox. Would I get caught? Would the blood and footprints end up leading the police my way? Given how sloppy I am in all general pursuits, the answer is YES, and swiftly.
Cesc We Can:
Imagine the entire alphabet (capitals, regular street sign font) were formed into steel letters that were 2 inches high. You have to choose a letter to be shoved entirely up your asshole. Which do you choose?
No lube? Okay. It's between O and P. The key is picking a gentle entry point, and the top of O and P are both sufficiently rounded enough to be inserted gradually up the rectum. Harshly topped letters like W (ahhhhhhhh!!!!) and H (Oh God!) would be agonizing. And letters like A that spread at the bottom are also no good. O would be corner free, and thus best to prevent rectal tearing. Also, it would be easiest to pull out, assuming you wanted it out. So I'll go with O. It only gets me one point in Anal Scrabble, but I'm okay with that.
If I were a sociopath, I'd totally shove letters up my victim's butts. TODAY YOUR BUTT IS SPONSORED BY THE LETTER Z.
Joan Jett was interviewed for the April issue of Rolling Stone about "The Runaways" and, as a result, I have a new favorite quote of all time. The exchange in question, in its entirety, is as follows:
RS: Kristen Stewart says you taught her to put sexuality into her guitar playing.
JJ: Well, the guitar sits right on your pubic bone, and when you hit a chord, it just vibrates right through your body. It's a powerful feeling. So when Kristen would play, I'd say "Pussy to the wood! Fuck the guitar!"
My new goal in life is to work the phrase "Pussy to the wood!" into every conversation I ever have. Is this a worthwhile pursuit? That quote seems to have unlimited real-world applications.
Agreed. I'd use it every day if I were a basketball coach and wanted my worst player to drop and give me 20 pushups.
What's your take on sucking your own dick? Gay or not?
Well, jerking off is giving yourself a handjob. Is that gay? Do I even care about the semantics given how much I enjoy jerking off? Let's face it: If you could do it, you would. No man could resist.
Does that make you gay? I dunno. Again, it would hardly matter at that point. If I'm gay for sucking my own dick, then call me Nathan Lane. Because I'm doing it. BUT NO SELF-FACIALS! THAT'S GOING TOO FAR!
I have dreams where I can blow myself. But I'm always doing it in public, with people watching me and judging me for it. Then I wake up and I'm like PHEW! NO ONE CAUGHT ME SUCKING MY OWN DICK OR KILLING THAT GUY! WELL DONE, DREW!
Finally, we end today with a GREAT MOMENT IN HERO FAILURE.
About a decade ago, I lived on the outskirts of Hyde Park in Chicago. We had a parking lot next to our apartment building, and there was a long, fenced-in pathway to the lot. One day, my sweet girlfriend and I were walking out to her car, and we entered the fenced-in path. As we were just in the middle of it, a very large, unleashed Rott with a massive spiked collar appeared at the end of the path. We both froze. I always imagined myself to be a hero, who would have done anything to protect my innocent girlfriend, who I loved dearly.
We remained frozen as the dog jogged up to my girlfriend, wrapped its front legs around her leg and latched its jaws onto her thigh. And I watched all this happen, with my mouth agape. Just then, I heard a loud, bellowing, "HEY!" And the dog released her leg and ambled off to its owner, who looked, at least to me at the time, exactly like Suge Knight.
I stared at my girlfriend, who was in shock and tearing up, then back at the dude, who just kept walking, then back to my poor girlfriend. And I did and said ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. My mind was completely blank as I looked back and forth at them.
Luckily she was wearing jeans, but later her ENTIRE thigh turned a heinous black and blue, with little red marks where the teeth had been.
We broke up shortly thereafter.
I go back and revisit the situation and still wonder, what the FUCK I should have done in that situation?
I guess the answer to that would be… anything?
/likely would do exact same thing in similar situation