This has always bugged me. Aren't most swords double edged? More to the point, does it really matter unless we're planning on holding it by the pointy end for some reason? I think what we actually mean is handle-less sword, which to be fair sounds dumb. Of course we could always say "yeah but Paula Abdul's music is really a klingon sword-thing with many edges and dubious handles." Yes, I vote for that.
So you know how once upon a time you could tell somebody was a little nutty if they walked around talking to themselves? Then the bluetooth headset happened and cell-phone users started to own this little bit of oddity, to the point where everybody just assumes that people having a lively conversation with nobody else around is just a bit of a yuppy. OK, I think we're all accustomed to this. What still gets me is when people yapping at themselves (or presumably to a small microphone somewhere) are using emphatic hand signals. Whether they don't actually have a phone and are gesturing at an invisible man, or do have a phone and are...still gesturing at an invisible man. Either way I'm classifying it as some sort of clueless.
Enter the iphone 4 and the forward facing camera. How long until this becomes normal? At least for now you have to actually hold your arm out and have the phone in front of you, but it's only a matter of time before that goes away. Progress, yo
Stupid lyrics aren't new to pop music, but I think we have a new champion, and it's been difficult to escape hearing it. If you can look past that I'm evidently listening to top40 radio, please set your jaw and digest this masterpiece. The chorus is particularly poignant, and rhymes to boot, provided you count rhyming "ooh" with "oohooooohooh."
Now, if we can somehow get Katy Perry and Ke$ha to battle to the death, we will be relieved of at least one of these blights, and we can autotune the death rattle. They would have wanted it that way. ------
[Stupid Verse 1] I know a place Where the grass is really greener Warm, wet and wild There must be somethin' in the water Sippin' gin and juice Layin' underneath the palm trees (Undone) The boys Break their necks Try'na creep a little sneak peek (At us)
You could travel the world But nothing comes close To the Golden Coast Once you party with us You'll be falling in love Oooooh oh oooooh
[Stupid Chorus] California girls We're unforgettable Daisy Dukes Bikinis on top Sun-kissed skin So hot We'll melt your Popsicle Oooooh oh oooooh
California girls We're undeniable Fine, fresh, fierce We got it on lock Westcoast represent Now put your hands up Oooooh oh oooooh
At the ripe old age of 28, there are still several life skills I haven't mastered, among them tying a tie, driving stick, and ironing a shirt in under 3o minutes. All of these deficiencies owe directly to a lack of necessity to practice. I've learned to tie a tie and drive stick several times each now, but I don't really ever have occasion to do either, so in a few months it gets tossed when I defrag my brain.
I'm fortunate enough to have a job that doesn't require me to wear a tie or nice clothes or even much beyond shorts, a shirt, and sometimes closed-toe shoes. This is nice, to put it plainly. There are a few downsides though. One is that I wear through my gym socks a lot faster through daily use. The other is that when it comes time to iron something, I'm useless.
Holy guacamole I hate ironing. Specifically, I hate ironing boards. They tip, they don't fit anywhere, they have that stupid string hanging off the end that gets in the way of everything, and I can never find an edge in the shape that I actually need. What do the professionals use, maybe I need one of those. No, strike that - what do other incompetent men-children looking to buy gadgets to relieve them of tedious tasks use? I need one of those. Seriously though, why aren't ironing boards 5-sided with shapes to fit each part of the shirt? Somebody hurry up and invent me a swiss army board, or I'll be forced to do it myself. No. I will invent a steam suit, put it on, put my to-be-ironed clothes on over it, activate the steam, remove both suits, don the freshly ironed suit (fitted to my very dimensions, plus the thickness of the steam suit) and do the hokey pokey. I can't believe you're still reading this
Today was one of those days that started out fine, but by around 10pm I was ready to club somebody to death with their own stupid fucking no good dismembered leg. However, I was also hungry. So, Safeway trip first, then limb-tearing and severe beating.
It was at this point that I discovered something: It's impossible to stay pissed off about your day while browsing through the produce aisle. You can only go around muttering "goddam baby carrots, what the fuck did you ever do for anybody? And you, arugula, what are you looking at? That's what I thought" for about 20 seconds before some sort of absurdity switch flips and you end up quietly picking out 4 ripe looking fuji's and a hand of bananas and moving on.