Lucky you, today you get to hear me complain about two things that suck.
1) The Apple store!
Let me first say that I love Apple products. However, I’m not a blind “fanboy,” rather I love Macs because they FUCKING WORK and as a graphic designer there is no substitute. Unfortunately I have had to spend a lot of time in the Apple store this week due to the cockless anus face who stole my computer. Have you been in an Apple store recently? They are bucking the system by eliminating any form of check out counter. Instead, each hip t-shirt-wearing employee has the ability to complete your purchase right there where they are standing in their skinny jeans. This may look cool, but it means the end of waiting in a orderly line to be served. The only way, literally, to be served in an Apple store is to stand in the middle of the floor with a confused look, like a sad puppy begging for a Snausage. It makes you feel like a whore standing on a street corner trying to out-whore the other whores.
2) Threadless iPhone cases!
If you have any doubt as to why I FUCKING HATE Threadless, please watch this video and it will all be clear. These fucking assholes at Griffin Technology and Threadless are acting like they cured cancer when they accidentally mixed their cure for A.I.D.S. with their cure for multiple sclerosis. Mark McGlon (never has a last name so perfectly described a lumpy tub of crap) practically has tears in his fat eyes as he describes the printing of doodles on plastic iPhone cases as “brilliant.” Brilliant? BRILLIANT?!? And if you ever wanted to see inside the empty mind of a Threadless design winner, please watch douchebag hipster nerd Joe VanWetering describe the BRILLIANT design process behind his doodles. Please get your gentle voice and Hitler hair out of my dreams and into my car, where I will drive you to a warehouse and force you to makeout with a girl.
Under the best of circumstances I rarely feel whimsical. I hate precious whimsy and I hate effervescent French clowns who run around spewing their made-up jolly language all over wide-eyed suburbanites who happily pay $100 to sit on their fat asses in a tent and watch miniature Chinese slave girls throw each other around with their tiny doll-sized feet.
Did I say I rarely feel whimsical? I meant to say I NEVER feel whimsical. It’s this lack of whimsy that prevents me from pissing my Dockers with excitement when the gay Cirque du Soleil clowns pull some “dad” from the audience and suddenly Mr. Pretend Audience Guy can fly across the tent, powered only by the warmth of his heart. Is it possible to groan so hard that you pass out? And don’t give me any of this, “Why can’t you leave your troubles at the door and see the world through the eyes of a child?” First of all, this stupid tent has no doors, and secondly, prepare your balls for the kicking of a lifetime.
The second worst thing about Cirque du Soleil is the way they keep repackaging the exact same show over and over by simply throwing some new bullshit meaningless name like “Zeedoo” across the marquee. “Oh, Zeedoo is totally different than Pü. In Zeedoo the contortionists are tortured Chinese girls and in Pü they are tortured Romanian girls.”
So what’s the worst thing about Cirque du Soleil? They gave this fuck face a job. If that doesn’t suck the whimsy out of you, nothing will.
Holy shit, I am completely overwhelmed by all the comments and well wishes from everyone. Seriously, I am truly touched that so many people would take the time to write.
So, I’m rebuilding, I’m getting my shit together and I’m dusting myself off. I will be back, I just don’t know when. I think for a while I will try to write a few times a week. Once I am unpacked and settled in my new place I will get back to the 5 days a week schedule. I was honestly ready to quit but you guys talked me out of it. I wish I knew how to quit you.
So in the meantime, I would like to hear as much Jay Leno bashing as possible.
So here’s the deal. This past year has been really difficult for me for various personal reasons but I was finally at a stage where it looked like I was past the worst stuff and the future was bright. The biggest hurdle left, both literally and figuratively, was selling my house and moving. In more ways than I can explain, this move was the one thing I have been focusing on for months and it was going to be the official beginning of the next stage of my life. Well, the move happened this past Saturday but the day before my house was robbed. I spent weeks carefully packing up my life into boxes and daydreaming about unpacking everything in my “new life.” I came home less than 24 hours before my move to find every box torn apart and the contents strewn across the floor. It was the most sickening feeling I had ever felt. I walked to my home office knowing what I would find. Even through I knew what to expect I still wanted to die when I saw my office destroyed and an empty space on my desk where my computer once lived. I earn my entire living on that computer so it is not unlike someone discovering their restaurant or store burned to the ground. I don’t need to go into detail, but I will be dealing with the aftermath of this home invasion for months. What devastates me the most is that they not only stole things I worked incredibly hard for, but they took my new beginning from me. They stole the finish line that I have been crawling towards for almost a year.
I have a lot of unpleasant bullshit to deal with now and it will take my full attention. I may or my not return, I honestly don’t know. It’s a fresh wound so maybe in a week or so I will feel like continuing but I just feel too defeated right now.
Just when I thought it was impossible to make wraps suck any more, McDonald’s has decided to shove a Big Mac up my wrap hole. I’m picturing the people in charge of developing new “food” at McDonald’s slumped in their chairs and just sort of lazily tossing crap from the garbage onto a table and saying “Um, I don’t know, I guess I would eat it if I was forced to. Steve, what do you think? I’m too drunk to care.” What’s next? Big Mac milkshake? Just toss some chocolate chips on that sucker – BOOM – meat cookies!
I also really love it when food brags that it’s made from FOOD! Congratulations Big Mac, your beef is made from beef. Way to go Easy Cheese, you’re made from cheese. Honestly though, I think most Americans would be just as happy to eat a Big Mac if it advertised “Made with some meat.”
OK, tonight is my last night of packing before my official move this Saturday so I’m going to keep this short. Mostly I’m keeping it short because I’m not sure what I’m seeing right now on my TV. Why is fat Steven Seagal running around arresting people for selling crack? Is he a real cop? Was I in a coma for 20 years?
I have watched about 15 minutes of this insanity and I have never felt more confused. In fact, as I write this, officer Seagal is talking “ghetto” to some black kid with a gun but he sounds like my dad trying to imitate Richard Pryor. Awwww baby, ya dig?
I immediately was reminded of the brilliant television pilot for “Lookwell,” created by Conan O’brien and Robert Smigel. In the show, which never made it past the pilot stage, Adam West plays Ty Lookwell, a washed-up actor who once starred in a bad 70s detective show. The problem is he now thinks he’s an actual detective thanks to an honorary crimestopper badge given to him in 1972. Funny, right? Well this crazy plot seems to be the EXACT concept behind “Steven Seagal Lawman” with the only difference being “Lookwell” was a COMEDY!
You seriously should take a 22-minute break and watch this pilot episode of Lookwell, Adam West is a fucking genius in it.
On any given day I can be found employing some of the most powerful modern technology to do important things like look up who directed Meatballs 4 or find nude photos of Beverly D’Angelo. My friends and I zoom essential text messages like, “This hallway smells like farts” up into space, where some billion-dollar satellite that took decades to design safely delivers our fart-filled messages back to earth in literally seconds. I’m sure that was the dream of the geniuses who invented the microchip, the computer, the satellite, the cell phone, etc.
The iPhone is mostly to blame for my daily shedding of precious IQ points. If you ever make the mistake of pondering anything out loud, no matter how insignificant, in front of an iPhone owner, you can expect to have that question answered in a matter of seconds. What’s that you say? What was the name of the movie where Tom Cruise’s ex-wife gets her boobs massaged for an hour and a half? Let me check that for you… bleep bleep blorp beep bop boing… The answer is Mimi Rogers in Full Body Massage. Actually, that’s a bad example because any self-respecting straight man should know the answer to that. I should have said… What is Mimi Rogers bra size? (checking my iPhone) The Answer is 38D. Thanks technology!
