Please excuse the mess

So I was updating WordPress and that Tumblr theme I was using is really old and well, you know how the internet is a series of tubes? Well something got stuck.

Everything should be in working order in a few days. Any suggestions?

Also, not to put any pressure on you guys, or even for a moment compare this hot mess to a legitimate, professional, put together, consistent, and intentionally hilarious website, but if this site got comments like this I might be inclined to post more often.

Just sayin’.

This is what you all sound like.

More coming soon, in the meantime just stick some provolone in your socks at night so they’ll smell like mediocrity in the morning! Alright? Alright.

You Are All My Favorite Customers

So you guys, this Saturday I expect pretty much everyone I know to show up and watch Tommy Wiseau’s modern cinema classic The Room with me. There isn’t really a lot of room for discussion on this one.1

Just to whet your appetites while hopefully not spoiling too much2, I give you a slight taste of what you can expect:

Get the Flash Player to see this content.

If you are not there, this is what it will do to me.

Get the Flash Player to see this content.

Just be forewarned, any no-shows will have to face my wrath.

Don’t worry, I will provide the spoons.

  1. Hey, when in Transylvania… (Don’t you just hate it when the best joke you can come up with is one you know only 1 in 3 people will get? Literally one person out of a total of three.) []
  2. I’m confident I could tell you everything that happens in this movie, in less than a minute, and somehow nothing about the experience would be ‘spoiled.’ []

Happy Completely-arbitrary-mad-scramble-to-prove-to-strangers-that-you’re-not-as-desperate-or-lonely-as-you-feel Day!

Here’s what I’m NOT doing this Valentine’s Day:

Here’s what I MIGHT do this Valentine’s Day:

Love is hard work you guys.

Which is why I’m so grateful to have you in my life, faceless stranger reader this.

Things may get pretty hectic Internet, but you know how I really feel.

Pox Populi

Posting here has been somewhat lax as of late, but I’ve been sick. Also, I’m not getting paid for this shit.1

Which reminds me, I’ve been racking my brain trying to come up with new a revenue model, and while there are many tempting tried and true methods for using the internet to make money,

(via riot clit shave)

I have decided to go a more traditional route:


I know the choice is a bit unconventional, but I remain convinced that this will prove a long and mutually beneficial relationship.

Humans, I’ve been doing this in earnest2 for half a year now. I think it’s time we got fucking serious. So I made a few changes around here.

First, some background.

A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.

- Thomas Mann

If this is the only criteria, then I no longer have any qualms about referring to myself as a writer.

This may come as an unwelcome shock to a few of you, certainly not the fine folks at Kimberly-Clark, but I consider some of what I do here writing “jokes”. The funny thing about “joke writing” though: the more you do it, the more your standards for what qualifies as a joke start to loosen. This is as much as a matter of practicality as it is of perception.

The problem being that it is almost impossible for me to objectively gauge anything I put up here. If I say it, of course I think it’s genius. Otherwise I wouldn’t say it.

How can you tell what shines brightest in a room filled with lusters?

In order to better serve you, my indifferent public, since none of you can be bothered to leave comments, what with that raging case of syphilis going around the internet, I figured I’d make it easier and just ask you outright.


I’ve also replaced a static, somewhat confusing popularity ranking for posts with an interactive voting system. I don’t expect anyone to go back through the archives, but if you just quickly scanned whatever’s on the front page, or if there’s a post you had particularly strong feelings for, of malice or otherwise, I’d appreciate a rating. It requires less thought that actually leaving a comment, since we all know how much it’s in short supply these days.

And I finally got around to finishing the about page only six months late. I do it for you guys. I do it all for you.

Back to all business as all usual.

  1. Oh and no one reads this. []
  2. Not to mention Verne. I bet some Huggies would come in handy right about now. []

Help is on the way.

Help is on the way

It has recently come to my attention that, despite the seeming contradiction, the visitors to this site are mostly luddites and more surprisingly, luddites with something to say1. Their voice will not be denied.

So in order to accommodate the less technologically inclined2 this modest website is now, after much tinkering and blind fumbling and groping, a bit more user friendly. Comments should be easier to leave and the content is hopefully easier to read.

What’s that? “Thank you”? Don’t mention it, just doing my job3.

Also, don’t forget, your praise is always welcome, but your scorn is downright encouraged.

  1. If you can read this, you’re not Amish. []
  2. Who knew the information super highway is now mainly traveled by horse and buggy. I swear I feel like I’m repeating a joke from 2+ years ago, but again, this is free so that sound you hear is me not caring. []
  3. My thankless, unpaid job. []

Dear Suckers,

ATTN: To the three (and a half1) people who visit this site on at least a semi-regular basis: you no longer have to wait to tell me how brilliant/ignorant/beauteous I am to my face; comments are now enabled.

This ain’t easy folks2 but I do it for you3 and don’t forget, these pearls of wisdom come free of charge4; so settle in, tell your friend(s), and leave me a racist, threatening note.

If not now, when?

  1. You know who you are. []
  2. Sadly, this is not easy. []
  3. Well, not you exactly, but let’s not get bogged down in semantics here. []
  4. A policy which I may have to rethink given the rising cost of hot pockets. []