Monday, March 31, 2008

Weirdo on Craig's List

This is old, but worth sharing:  My good friend sent me the link to what we have agreed to be one of the strangest "requests" ever posted on craigslist. As an art historian, I am super-double repulsed by this posting. However, I will clarify that I do not study ancient eastern art, like the poster below obviously does-considering his mention of mesopotamia and the Qing dynasty. Nor do I work at a museum and exploit its collections selfishly, to satisfy my own bizarre erotic fantasies. Aside from these things, this posting is just FUCKED UP. I have provided my commentary at the end of the posting. Okay, if you haven't eaten in the past 20 minutes, read the posting from the portland craigslist that I've copied and pasted below: 





Very Complicated Request, Please Kindly Read!!! - m4mw - 35

Reply to: anon-58988662@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-02-08, 8:53PM PST


If you are groggy or stoned please do not read this, I need your complete and sober attention, for my request is uniquely detailed. I am a man, 35, white, black hair with brown eyes. Okay, first what I am looking for is a woman primary, but secondary it could be a woman and her man, but the man will have to remain behind the black curtain and only watch through the cut out eyeholes. The black curtain is inside the apartment that I reside in. This apartment is a fashionable studio in the hot part of town, and all my neighbors are graphic artists. So now please kindly listen to my request: what I require foremost in a woman with bushy eyebrows. And they must be TWO eyebrows, because one eyebrow is an abonination against Gaia. What I want is for the woman to become naked and pose herself before me. I have a carpeted pedestal so her feet will not grow cold. I will present her with a very well preserved Mesopotamian bowl. She will hold it and she must be careful not to drop it as it has to be back at the museum by 8am tomorrow (I am a worker there). Next I will hand her tweezers. Then she will pluck her eyebrows until her forehead is vacant. The eyebrows will drift into the bowl and then I will take the bowl from her and go to my kitchenette. I will then toss a salad into the bowl and mix the eyebrows in it. The woman can decide the dressing, but I have only vinegrette and thousand island. Next I will re-present the bowl to the woman, along with a utensil, and she will then consume the salad while I watch. I may masturbate during this part of the exercise. However, if there is a man behind the black curtain he may not masturbate, and I will know if does because I will hear him. However, he is allowed to fantasize, and then he write an essay on his fantasies before I release him. After the woman is finished with her salad, I will present her with a Qing dynasty teapot box, which she will open and deficate in. She must be careful with the box as well as it is also from the mueseum and it must be returned or there will be trouble. When she is finished she will return it to me, and I then I will bid her good-evening. That is all. Please send a photo, eyebrows only. I WILL NOT respond to any photos that include anything but eyebrows. 

Please, serious inquiries ONLY. THIS IS NOT JOKE. So do not make funny replies to it. I have no patience for impertinence. Good day. 





Commentary: If i happened to groggy or stoned when I began reading this, I would have sobered up completely by line 5. After overcoming the initial shock from reading this, I began to analyze some of the things this guy wanted to do, and some of the comments he made. His first objective is to have a woman's significant other looking through a curtain as the whole act comes together. You hear about that pretty regularly, but I did find it quite strange that he keeps in his apartment a black curtain with 2 peep-holes cut in it. I do not deny that this is weird, but let's move on to things that will make this request seem almost normal. 

The little ritual he wants to perform, plucking not one, but two, eyebrows, now that's fuckin' strange! Only more confusing is his mention of Gaia, who is the personification of Earth that was developed in early greco-Roman culture. Her attributes are the snake and the bull, and she represents prosperity, growth and fertility. We know her now as Mother Earth, in our folklore today. But, Gaia is the primary deity of the neo-pagan Wiccans, as they worship nature first and foremost. I can't think of any significance behind the eyebrows, but the bowl comes from the Fertile Crescent, which again alludes to fertility, as Gaia. Mesopotamia has had a reputation of being one of the most fruitful regions of the world since civilization began there and spread from there. This guy also has a pedistal (carpeted for comfort) which is also indicative of his intent for this act to be ritualistic. I think this dude is a fuckin' lonely wiccan witch, and a bad one at that. If he loves nature so much, he needs to get his ass of the computer. This is the weirdest shit I have ever read, and I am now afraid to handle ancient art, for fear that someone has shit in it. This basically ruined my career, along with my appetite for leafy greens.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Iraq since 2003

Today marks the first day of the US invasion in 2003, my senior year of high school.  Seems so long ago, it really makes me sad just thinking about what a waste it has been.  I think everyone remembers watching the statue of Saddam Hussein tumble down.  

I bet they are selling (or have sold already) pieces of that thing, just like they sell pieces of the Berlin Wall.  It's always worth checking eBay.  

I'm also reminded of the guards who recorded Saddam's hanging on his camera phone.  They're in an Iraqi military prison (=hell) right now, but on the brighter side, sure saved me a lot of time.  Had they not taped that, I would have spent hours of my life authoring a conspiracy theory, as would have several other hundred skeptical bloggers in the early-mid twenties.  If you added up all of the time that we bloggers would have spent dwelling on that conspiracy theory, I bet it might add up to a life sentence in prison.  Likewise, think about all the stress we would have experienced, and the ramifications of that stress?  Can you really even attempt to quantify all the Klonopin and Prozac that would be needed to deal with such a grueling feat?   Those guards are considered tasteless, maybe even foul by some, but thinking back on this, I consider them Martrys, for sacrificing their freedom to ensure that no educated, white americans waste hours, perhaps even days, of their young life worrying about the legitimacy of the vicious dictator's execution.  

Unless, of course, the video was staged.  In that case, I would need to consult the lineage of Jesus Christ and consider Illuminati involvement, as well as connections to the school shooting at Columbine and Sasquatch.  

Turkish motherfucker.

Today, I received a facebook message from one of my turkish "friends", asking (with sincerity) if I was "Melungeon".  What the fuck is "Melungeon" anyway?  I turned to my best friend Wikipedia for an answer, which you can read in full here.  The gist of it, from Wiki:    

Melungeon (mɛlʌndʒʌn) is a term traditionally applied to one of a number of "tri-racial isolate" groups of the Southeastern United States, mainly in the Cumberland Gap area of central Appalachiaeast Tennessee, southwest Virginia, and east KentuckyTri-racialdescribes populations thought to be of mixed (1) European, (2) sub-Saharan African, and (3) Native American ancestry. [1] Although there is no consensus on how many such groups exist, estimates range as high as 200. [2] [3] Some self-identifying Melungeons dislike the term tri-racial isolate, believing that it has pejorative connotations. The term Melungeon was also considered pejorative until the late 20th century.

Motherfucker.  Are you serious?  I'm finishing this post, so I can go off, Tourettes Guy style.

Monday, March 17, 2008

stuff white people like is witty and accurate

Click here to see an awesome blog dedicated to stuff white people like.   If you are white and easily offended...oh wait.   Just go to it!  It will likely hit close to home, and you should find it amazingly accurate in many respects.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

People from Ohio

Since I moved to the Cincinnati metro area (specifically northern KY), I've met a lot of people from Ohio and drawn a few conclusions about what many of these people value in life, and their perceptions of others.  I'm going to describe a few of my experiences, and in doing so, project an image that I realize is not embraced by all buckeyes (just most that I have encountered).    When I refer to "people from Ohio" or "buckeyes" in this posting, I am referring to those with which I have had bad experiences.  Keep in mind that some of these conclusions are a reaction to instances where I have been judged for being from Kentucky, and others are just observations.  

1.  People from Ohio do not know how to put themselves together.  They wear average, "everybody" clothes, like Northface fleeces with Abercrombie jeans.  They seldom take time to fix their hair, apply makeup, or wear decent jewelry.  They look pretty plain, and do an excellent job of blending into the landscape.  

2.  They lack colorful, memorable personalities.  Have you ever met a real character from Ohio?  Someone special in their own right?  I've met some boring people, who can get really drunk and stupid from Ohio, but not anyone who is all that interesting.  Not saying that they aren't cordial, they do know how to be moderately polite and they open up once you get to know them.  Just no eye-catching, awesomely unique personalities.  

3.  People from Ohio assess each other by net worth, more-so than people from Kentucky.  In my encounters, I have always been openly asked how much I have paid for something, or what I do for a living (so they could get a feel for how much I was making).  This usually happens on the very first occasion that you meet someone.  Is it just me, or is that rude?  I was taught to value people based upon the relationships you develop with them.  My mother might still smack me, even at the seasoned age of 23, if I asked someone how much they paid for something.  

Last but not least, these boring, average looking people who seem to put so much priority on money, are extremely judgmental of Kentuckians.  This attitude entails that they 1.  have a greater net worth, 2.  are more educated, and 3.  are entitled to say and do certain things, because of the first two assumptions.  This attitude bothers me for many reasons.   First, I have been criticized numerous times for having an accent.  Second, I have been talked-down to by these wannabe elitists, who assume that because I have an accent and was raised in Kentucky, I am far less educated and poor.  They feel as if they must "teach me" things, or over-explain concepts in simple language.  Overall, it is a very poor way to treat someone based upon false premises.  

So what exactly is a redneck?  I've been called this now several times by people from Ohio.  I will investigate this concept in terms of what buckeyes seem to value:  money and education.  

Is a redneck someone who owns property, and whose family has owned property on two different continents for generations?  Or someone who comes from a family who all have graduate degrees, have worked hard, and made smart decisions with their investments?  Is that really why you are making fun of me?  

Maybe, you're calling me a redneck because of my education.  I went to a top 50 liberal arts college that cost 33K a year (since you love numbers so much).  I paid for that though my own merits, and with the help of my hardworking parents.  I studied philosophy and art history.  I'm now studying, among other things, the Dutch masters, Roman Archaeology, and Linear B.  Hey buckeye, when was the last time you read Plato, deciphered an ancient language, or even went to a fucking museum?  How did you fare on those college entrance exams?  Probably not as well as I did.  But, I guess that's what makes me a redneck!

Is it my accent that makes me a redneck?  Not what I say, but the sound of what I'm saying?  My accent reflects my heritage - I'm a first-generation american.  My dad is American and my mother was born and raised in Scotland.  I love the appalachian accent:  it's symbolic of the Scots and the Irish who immigrated to the colonies and were forced by the English to live in the mountains.  Geographically, they were restrained by the mountains, which literally isolated their language, just as the Louisiana swamps trapped Creole.  My accent is a product of both growing up in Appalachia and spending summers as a child in Scotland.  I speak slowly and place the most emphasis on my REALLY long vowel sounds.  My predominantly Scottish heritage might be exactly what makes me such a fuckin' redneck.  

Maybe, I am a redneck because of the culture in which I was raised.  I have been traveling  abroad since age 3, and I have family throughout Great Britain, France, South Africa, New Zealand and Australia.  I was classically trained in voice for 15 years, and I also speak french.  I guess those buckeyes were right, I completely disregarded the fact that rednecks don't actually speak redneck, they speak french!  Wait 'till the French find out, they will be SO pissed!  

Buckeyes have no fuckin' clue about culture.  This is because they don't have one.  Ohio is flat and boring, and so are its citizens.  Their only consolation is a self-imposed idea of supremacy over their Kentucky neighbors.  With the personality of a slice of white bread, they find comfort in this fallacy.  

On the contrary, Kentucky has a very unique and colorful culture.  I associate the development of this culture with the division of classes in Kentucky.  You can argue that it's everywhere, as a product of capitalism, but I am arguing that it's far more prevalent in the Bluegrass state than most all of the other states, and Kentuckians deal with it quite well.  Think about it, you have what statistics have proven to be some of the poorest, most illiterate people in the nation living in the mountains.  Among them live some of the wealthiest people, who come from money which has been invested and saved from the coal boom.  Likewise, in central Kentucky you have some very poor farm hands who work tirelessly for the biggest names in the horse industry.  The racing business brings Rupert Murdoch, Queen Elizabeth II, and the Prince of United Arab Emirates to the middle of Kentucky, where they all own farms and pour money into our states economy.  

The horse industry has, in turn, shaped much of Kentucky's culture.  Not only as a favored pastime and excuse for us to drink our bourbon, but as a synthesizer for the very wealthy, and the very poor.  Because this is a pastime shared by all, regardless of social status, Kentuckians share a special love for days at the races.  Likewise, the industry is a source of employment for people of all social classes, which forces some of the poorer residents to interact with some of the most wealthy.  

How does this define KY culture?  These interactions between the rich and the poor, which have been going on for hundreds of years now, have taught these social classes to be polite, respectful and kind to one another, regardless of status.  That said, a real Kentuckian will demonstrate graciousness, compassion and good manners to everyone they meet.  They would be ashamed to ask someone how much they made or paid for something, because they have been raised to understand a divided economic climate, and how money and possessions can have very little to do with forming quality personal relationships.  A real Kentuckian will never command someone, that is, explain the "best" or "right" way to do something.  They may tease you about it, but they would never risk sounding condescending to someone else, and that goes for Ph.D's, GED's and everyone in between.  A good Kentuckian loves their family, friends, bourbon, racing, laughing, basketball, and storytelling with immeasurable loyalty.  In Kentucky, you will feel hospitality and a strong sense of community.  Unfortunately, I have not experienced this in Ohio.  

Ohio natives have a strong sense of "I".  Each person is concerned with only their best interests.  Ohio lacks a unifying aspect of their culture in which everyone can engage.  They all cheer for THE Ohio State's football team, but instead of actively engaging in a social activity, like going to the race track or having a bourbon with friends, they can only passively watch.  This is a huge problem for the social climate in Ohio, and is reflected in their personalities (or lack thereof)  Rather than feeling like you belong to a community, which is how I have felt throughout my entire life in KY, in Ohio there is a competitive tone to everything they do.  Whether its money, or how much you know about something, I've experienced that these buckeyes are always trying to size themselves up against others.  This concept is foreign to me, and the only way I can explain it is by looking at it as a reaction to their insecurities.  This seems to me like an entirely plausible explanation.  I would be insecure too, if I had no sense of style and looked exactly like everyone else.  But I guess being confident and self-assured is also redneck.

All this said, if you are from Ohio, you have two options:  

1.  Get off your high horse.  Get out of Ohio.  Stop thinking that your mid-size, mid-west cities are comparable to London and New York.  

OR

2.  Find a real Kentuckian and call them a REDNECK.  Be prepared for a raw, uncensored and honest retort.  You will either laugh your ass off (at your own expense), or ball your eyes out.  Either way, I promise it will be a genuine character-building experience (to say the least), and it might even help you develop some sort of personality.    





DISCLAIMER:  This is subjective, and based on my having more negative experiences with Ohio tool-bags than positive.  However, I have had positive encounters with buckeyes, but they have either been in my grad program, in my sorority or the person has been affiliated with Kentucky in some way.  

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

what goes around comes around, and also: fuck ipod

God has slapped me across the face this week.  Not only do I have ridiculous amounts of writing to do, paperwork to complete, cleaning and packing, but I have suffered from a fate that I once inflicted upon others.  

There are very few things that can provoke a hearty laugh in my belly, and one of these few things is watching someone get hurt at their own expense.  If they are seriously injured, its a different story, but watching someone take a good spill, that harms only their pride, can make or break my day.  However, after my experiences this week, I need to make a confession to try and make things right with Yahweh or Allah or that one dude.  

In 7th grade, I was a little shit.  At lunch, I sat with my friends at a table near the garbage cans that everyone had to walk past when they dumped their tray.  There was a wormy asian special ed girl who would run as fast as she could towards the garbage cans, then she would lurk and stare.  Victimized by peer pressure, I was sadly part of a group of shitheads who subtly terrorized this girl.  How did we do this?  It usually had to do with pouring some liquid on the floor where she was walking, so as she stared, she slipped and spilled-ass on the cafeteria linoleum.  Other times, we simply distracted her with some redneck holler, or by shouting her name.  You could even dance in your chair, and she would get distracted, forget to pay attention to where she was going, and fall on her ass.  This is so mean, and if my child ever did this they would be hellaciously grounded.  But, you live and learn, and today I learned.  

My godsmack occurred in the middle of campus where there is, on a daily basis, a break dancing group.  They are comprised of 4 tiny asian guys (who move like contortionists) and one token black dude.  They are hella good at what they do, and I walk past them in amazement everyday on my way to work.  Today, I was multi-tasking (fucking around with the click-wheel on my ipod, watching the break dancers, and walking over ice at the same time).  As I was watching a wicked-good guy spin on his head, nature acted against me.  I lost complete control, and before I knew it, I was eye-level with the cobble stones catching stares from the dancers, who had stopped their routine due to my spill.  The crowd that the dancers attract had also managed to focus all of their attention on my lanky-ass all over the pavement.  It was like I travelled through a worm hole.  

I'm also pissed off that I didn't have a touch screen on my ipod.  It would have prevented this whole mess!

The strangest part about it:  When I realized I was no longer in gravitational control, the first thought that entered my mind was of the asian chick in middle school!!!  Not embarrassment, not, "oh shit that hurt!", but "wow, I feel so sorry for her".   It's like the asians have had spies watching me since 1996, waiting for my most vulnerable moment to strike.  Well, asians, you win this time, but we will meet again.   

This big spill only added to my stress factor, and only made Spring Break seem that much further away.  I have already determined that I am going to smoke so much reefer over spring break, that I won't even know what season it is.  Henceforth, this week, once designated by the season in which it falls, is now known as Reefer Break.  If you ask me what my spring break plans are, I will not be able to answer, because I no longer believe in the concept of "spring break".  However, ask me what my Reefer Break plans are and, well, you've probably figured that out already!  

Monday, March 10, 2008

Francis Bacon Back on Top


ArtNet's price database lists the two most expensive works of art sold at auction last month.  *cue drumroll*   Both of them are by Francis Bacon!  People can't get enough dark sexuality these days.  
Sotheby's of London sold Nude with a Figure in a Mirror for $38,758,011 USD on February 27th.  Surprisingly, it didn't go for as much or more than the #1 most expensive work of art sold during February by Christie's of London, one of Bacon's famous Triptych images, for which someone decided to shell-out $52,387,629 USD.  That's not chump change!  

Triptych was part of his series painted in the early-mid 1970's after the death of his partner.  Not a very happy subject-I always wonder where the people who purchase these pieces place them, if they are putting them in their homes.  This one isn't exactly something I'd want over my fireplace.  

Saturday, March 8, 2008

A Talented Manualist

Click here to watch a rad cover of A-Ha's "Take On Me" done completely in hand farts.  This guy is very serious about his hand farting.  He also has a "how to" video on his you tube page that I will eventually watch in an attempt to be as sexy as he is.  

Be Weary of a Rat Tail

How many people do you know who have sported the once-popular rat tail?  That is, a piece of hair growing from the point where the back of the head and the top of the neck meet, with length far-exceeding that of the hair located elsewhere on the head.  Nowadays (especially if you live anywhere near true civilization), rat tails are few and far between.  However, a friend of mine (referred to here as LW to protect her pride and character) had a very special encounter with one that I feel obliged to share with the world.  This encounter will be described in both true and false details, for entertainment's sake, and will of course end with an analysis of the rat tail's iconography and symbolism.  

Once upon a time, there was a party at a gallery, and at this party was a drunk female art student, LW, and a drunk painter, who will be referred to as JC.  JC is an attractive guy, with a fun personality and good manners.  He has cute curly hair, and frontally, is just an overall handsome dude.  He also has a sense of humor, as he was participating in a bet to see exactly how long he could stand to keep his rat tail, which at the time extended down about 2 feet, past the middle of his back.  

When my friend LW met JC, she was intoxicated, feisty and wily.  She actually had the nerve to approach him not with a general greeting such as, "hello," but cut straight to the chase with a direct inquiry of his rat tail.  She was immediately struck by awe, amazement and fascination, and started asking questions that would verify its authenticity.  

"Is this real?"
"How long have you had this?"
so on, so forth...

He, in turn, validated his most amazing braided rat tail, and they continued to engage in conversation, in spurts, throughout the exhibition.  Afterwards, when everyone should have gone home to pass out, they decided to instead go to a local bar to insure only the worst hangovers and regrets for the next day.  

So, at the bar, LW and JC met up again, and continued to chat it up amongst themselves and their friends.  LW, completely wasted at this point, thought it would be a super sexy idea to proposition JC (and his rat tail) for sex, as she leaned over to him and (thought she) whispered in his ear, "I WANNA FUCK YOU TONITE."  In agreement, they went back to his place.  Of course, since so many people got too wasted to drive, and JC lives within walking distance of the local bar, LW and JC staggered back to his place with some very belligerent company, two whiskey-drunk old men, who needed a place to crash.  

Upon arrival to JC's, LW discovered that she would be not only fucking a guy with a rat tail, but that said act would occur in a 12' X 16' studio apartment that would be shared with the drunks.  As they were drunk, they passed out pretty quickly.  One of them slept with his face directly on the hardwood floor, looking away from the bed, while the other drunk dude slept sitting-up about 2 ft. away from the bed where the sex was taking place, with his head cocked back, and eyes half open.  He may or may not have been watching.  

LW's account of the actual sex was positive.  Apparently JC had some serious junk and knew what to do with it.  It was what happened DURING the awesome sex that makes this story magical.  

While she was on the bottom, JC working on top with such vigor and excitement, that his sexual energy began to manifest in - guess where?-his rat tail!!!!!   LW was getting really into it, but JC told her not to be vocal, as there were other people-the drunks- sharing the same small room.  But, the energy in the rat tail was so fierce that the long braid acted on its own, coming around from the back of his head , and like a ring master's whip, cracking forcefully LW's left eye.  In fact, with every thrust, LW was SMACKED IN THE EYE BY THIS RAT TAIL!  The best sex she had experienced in months had been usurped by a single, skanky braid of hair.  And, because of the drunk men in the room, she couldn't say anything to him about it, so it happened for like, 20 minutes! In fact, the rat tail so violently attacked her throughout sex, that she had to get eye drops the next morning!   I am laughing so hard as I type this story, it is truly remarkable, and there's more...!!!!

The morning after, as the drunks peeled themselves off the floor and couch and scampered on home, LW and JC had a conversation, and the rat tail was somehow brought up.  LW said something to the effect of, "I really still can't believe that's real" (in the spirit of her intrigue from the night before), and he replied:

"NO, it's not really real.  Did I say that?  I must've been drunk.  It's actually a Navajo indian hairpiece, made from real human hair, that my friend dared me to wear for a week.  I get to take it out tomorrow.  It's attached by a rubber band like this, see?"  as he demonstrated his REMOVABLE RAT TAIL.  At a complete loss for words, LW stands once again in shock and disbelief.  She had been defeated by a pseudo-rat tail!!!!   

After serious thought and consideration, I have come to the conclusion that the rat tail is a metaphor for a certain type of man:  In the beginning, they are funny and interesting, once you become acquainted, however, they take advantage of you, maybe even abuse you in some way, and in the end, you learn that you thought they were something entirely different all along.  (RWD, am I bitter?  of course!)

  While I am quite sure that JC only had one in his possession, and didn't quite "embody" what a rat tail represents, you should read this lesson as a warning against those guys who really are totaly fuckin' rat tails.  They are no good, and they will do you no good.  That's the moral of the story, kids.  

Debatable Fart


I'm sorry, but I don't know that I'm quite convinced that this is Regis farting on his morning television show.  It seems more like something rubs across the table - two objects which make contact with one another.  What do you think?  I don't feel like I'm getting a clear reading of his facial expression.  

You go girl!

Thanks, Joie, for such a great video on women in the '80's.  I love my feminist friend, she finds such great things!   Of course, my favorite part was the reference to Ann Coulter!  Pac-Man is one of the few video games I have not been entirely worthless at playing...I got lots of practice on my dad's atari, so when I went to the skating rink, I was ballin' up on 8th graders, even as a 5th grader.  Obviously, Ms. Pac-Man's power was transmitted to me, reflected of course by my once-mad skills.  

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Fart on Camera

As my friend Bryan called it, this is "an incredible run-by farting" captured, of course, by a reporter and her camera man.  This completely made my day.  

Monday, March 3, 2008

Fucktards on Spring Break

Like many college freshmen, I chose to venture to Panama City Beach for my first "real" spring break.  By 'real' I mean tacky, belligerent and shameful.  I'm actually quite embarrassed that I subjected myself to that type of behavior:  For instance, each morning I ate beereal for breakfast.  What, might you ask, is beereal?  It's cereal, but made with beer instead of milk.  Yummy, huh?!  The beer was also natty light, which is even more enticing to the taste buds.  It was usually Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but sometimes it was Cheerios, in which case it was referred to as Beerios.  Other common occurances, in which I may or may not have been directly involved, but at least witnessed:

a 40 year old woman selling weed and bonging beers, with a picture of a Butterfinger candy bar tattooed on her left boob.

topless keg stands

a keg manager

Someone digging a hole in the sand on the beach, only to puke into and cover back up with sand

a banana eating contest that involved inflatable furniture 

waking up in a shopping cart, as you are being pushed away through a parking lot by total strangers

4 to a bed

SO MANY cheesedick guys that I still puke a little bit in my mouth when I think of all the "bros" there.  This video incapsulates the type of guy to which I am referring.  

While I will probably never in my life go to PCB again, I am going on Spring Break elsewhere this year, and the probability of beereal consumption, I have to honestly say, is slightly higher than usual given the circumstances.  So, I may have some worthy Spring Break stories in the works to post, and I always love hearing other people's skanky stories, so please share if you've got one!


Spiders on Drugs

CLICK HERE to see one of the most amazing videos on the web- a chronicle of "scientific experimentations" with LSD, THC, alcohol, caffeine, and even crack, on the behavior of spiders.  

Maximus Still-Life, as promised

As you might have read in my earlier post, I had an interesting experience purchasing a "professional photo session" in which I had my ferret's picture taken with a bunch of crazy shit.  To read about it, consult my blog archives from February.  To bask in its glory and radiance, look no further.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Drunken Monkeys!

This is a funny video...  Monkeys get drunk from fermenting fruit and stagger around in the trees, passing out on the limbs.  I know people who have quite similar behaviors.  I actually consider them close friends.  

The Magic Atmosphere

This is a sign for a restroom I was forced into using somewhere around Ephesus in Turkey.  I know the sign is enticing, but I can guarantee you that there is nothing fuckin' magical about a Turkish restroom, even if you do pay '50 cent' for it.  

Latte, the Greeter

There are many dogs that serve important roles in our society; some help the handicap, others provide therapy, ect.  However, this dog, named Latte, acts in an especially important way, as a judge of person and character.  Each time a visitor arrives in the presence of Latte, they receive a heraldic greeting, a thorough sniffing and finally, authorization to pass (if lucky, of course).  Often, this dog can be found staring off into the sunset, shoulders stiffened and head held high, waiting to investigate the next weary traveller as the summer wind rolls through her blonde hair and floppy ears.  With graciousness, hospitality and sweet-nature, Latte tastefully and effectively acts as the moral authority of Indian Hill, sans the pretentious attitude.  This dog epitomizes the majestic.  

German Bathroom Prank

Click here to see one of the funniest jokes ever conceived.  Gotta love those Germans!