I stand by all of this, still. But you know what? If I saw this on TV, I’d go out and buy the album. And I’d probably watch the show, too. (I mean how did that cranky guy who seems to hate TV get on TV? That’s nuts! He totally doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would start wearing three piece suits and sleepwalk through 20 years of broadcasting someday.) Continue reading →
The best thing you can say about Cinnabon, in terms of civilization, is that it requires its patrons to use a knife and fork to consume its signature dish.
You’re supposed to eat almost all other fast food by hand. Donuts, pizza, fried chicken and burgers are designed to be picked up and bitten. It’s a testimony both to the soul crushing laziness and the vicious striving for efficiency at the core of the American marketplace. For customers, it’s so convenient it’s almost subhuman, as it takes the very small amount of work out of eating. For restaurant owners, it’s one step closer to profit and away from fixed costs, as they don’t have to provide silverware. Continue reading →
Get psyched jams aim to inspire. They’re daylight songs and workout songs and are not built for quiet contemplation (AKA: no one listens to them when they’re stoned unless they’re looking for a laugh). They are the songs procrastinators play when they absolutely have to start working. They are songs about conflict, overcoming adversity and defeating intimidating foe and challenges that seem insurmountable. They are odes to underdogs, sonnets of scrappiness and paeans for perseverance. And, more often than not, they’re songs featured in movies that explicitly state the plot or theme of the movie they are from. Continue reading →
This is the first entry in my “fuck yeah” series. A couple of my friends have been doing some rad shit lately, and I want to pay them due tribute.
Also, I have a theory that every American under the age of 50 has set up a google alert for their own name and I want to see if that will bring them to this page without my prompting.
Nickelback was the best thing to happen to Detroit in a long time.
The negative reaction to having the mediocre rock act play their halftime show made Detroit seem like a normal city. For the first time in years, Detroit was the spotlight of news articles that weren’t about post rust belt poverty. Detroit residents became people of taste instead of people in danger of resorting to cannibalism. Continue reading →
OK, guys. Serious time. I really, really need your help here.
The doctors are saying that my friend is going to wake up from his 70-day coma in just a couple of hours. He contracted coma-itis in a different world then we live in today. Since his coma-tude, the world has corroded into a cynical, heartless place where some may say true love is a lost art.
So he’ll be once again able to think, but I worry if he’ll ever be able to truly feel.
Thus, your expertise is needed. Please tell me in the comments which of the two following songs I should play to him before telling him that Kim Kardashian‘s fairy tale romance to that dude who looked like Shrek and I think was like a basketball player or something, has come to an end.
The other night, my wife and I were in bed. She told me she had bought a new kind of cat food and was surprised to see it was made by Dick Van Patten. I asked her how many cans she bought. She asked me why.
“Well, I figure about eight should be enough,” I said, and rolled over and went to sleep, sound in the knowledge that I am the greatest husband in the world.
I’ve never eaten at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company, for two simple reasons: there isn’t one in New Jersey and I hate the movie Forrest Gump. But I love seafood and I love a lot of other Tom Hanks movies. I don’t think I’m alone in this. So I’d like to offer, as a service to restaurantrepreneurs the world over, ideas for other Tom Hanks-themed seafood eateries.
I’m sure that the Saturday Night Live writer turned Senator wouldn’t want to upset party unity by challenging Obama in the primary this year, so I’ll give him until 2016 to pick scandal-plagued former New York City Council president Andrew Stein as his running mate.
The old Clinton campaign adage, quoted by hack writers as often as wedding band guitar players mangle Chuck Berry riffs, goes like this: it’s the economy, stupid.
It’s obnoxious, off-putting and smug. (How dare you call me stupid. You don’t even know me!) And it’s also wrong. It should read like this: the economy is stupidity. It’s about stupid things sold in stupid ways by stupid people to other stupid people.
Capitalism’s success, at every level, is dependent on someone else’s stupid decision.
A property owner sells a plot of land on the bet that someone will be stupid enough to buy it. A property developer builds it up because they bet that someone will be stupid enough to want to operate a business in it. The business owner is betting that someone is going to be stupid enough to spend money on their product. That person is hoping that someone is stupid enough to let them stay at their job.