I figured y’all would enjoy this story. I got a haircut today. My hair has been long for a while, so I got it cropped back today for the summer and am now rocking some spikes on the top.
This would be a non-event if it were not for my experience at the bowling alley this evening. After league, I’m sitting at a table with two guys on my team drinking some beers. Out of nowhere, this group of junior high girls approaches our table. One girl steps forward and says, “Sorry to bother you, but are you Clay Aiken?”
My two teammates immediately start rolling on the floor laughing. Despite explaining to these girls that I was not Clay Aiken, they still wanted my autograph. So I ended up signing autographs tonight for a group of junior high girls: “All My Best! Love, Clay”
So now I am the laughing stock of the entire bowling alley, as if I weren’t already. I don’t really know why I’m sharing this with you all but I figured you’d get a kick out of it.
All My Best!
Love,
”Clay”
Scientists in California are working on the world’s most powerful laser, scheduled for completion in 2008. There is no word on when biologists will be done engineering the world’s most powerful frickin’ sharks to wear the device.
In case you haven’t heard, Star Wars III: Revenge of The Sith premiered at midnight today. And since every maniacal, Yoda-quoting, geek FanBoy in the country will be flooding out of America’s basements and into a theater near you for the next 24 hours, the blizzog presents this helpful list of 10 things not to do today so you can avoid some disappointment.
- Print that 147-page document that you know will jam the printer. You shouldn’t be printing it anyway. Jerk.
- Order a pizza. Let’s just say the delivery staff will be a bit light.
- Go to Radio Shack, Best Buy, Circuit City, EB Games, or anywhere electronic goods are sold.
- Expect answers to your “Was There Really Only One True Ring?“ thread on the LOTR message boards.
- Find someone to tell you what LOTR stands for if you don’t know.
- Ask to have the margins on your TPS reports increased from 1 inch to 1.25 inch. You don’t need it anyway. Why don’t you do some real work today for a change?
- Host a bitchin’ Magic: The Gathering party.
- Rent a Boba Fett costume.
- Open that attachment in your email with the subject “Hello! This prize I sent you!!!! spzschs 13sckaschieqq“ You know better than that anyway. Scratch that. You don’t.
- Go to the movies. Duh.
This isn’t like the opening round of the NCAA tournament where the people that take off work aren’t going to be missed. (Save your emails, Sales Guy. You know I’m right.) This is a big deal. By some estimates, the U.S. economy will take a $600 million hit over the next two days due to absenteeism.
My advice to you: if you’re thinking about doing something today that might require tech support, don’t. You and I both know that you’re just going to screw it up. And there will be no one there to help you.
In fact, we should treat this as an impromptu “Geek Appreciation Day”. In the words of 80s rockers Cinderella, you “Don’t Know What You’ve Got, ‘Til It’s Gone”. Today you’ll see just what it would be like if those geeks in IT you’re always grumbling about didn’t work with you anymore.
So when they come back in on Monday to re-open your network account that you locked because you couldn’t remember your password (hint: it was probably ‘password’, dumbass), give those geeks a hug and tell them you appreciate them. Well, okay… maybe just tell them you appreciate them.
Sorry for the spelling errors in this post. It’s hard to type with this Boba Fett costume on.
When are you Amway freaks going to leave me the hell alone?
I am a magnet for Amway recruiters, and it sucks. Some guys attract hot women who ask for their phone number or ask if they want to meet for coffee some time. I attract 40 year-old male losers who ask me if I want to get involved in a web-based business. Lucky freakin’ me.
It happened again this weekend, and the experience was much like the twenty other times this has happened to me in the past nine years. I’m in the Programming section at Barnes & Noble looking for a book. Within a minute of me getting there, this guy comes rolling around the corner and about runs right into me. I instinctively step out of the way and say, “Pardon me,” as I thought I was in his way.
But I thought about it for a second and realized that I wasn’t in his way at all. I was halfway down the aisle so he had plenty of time to see me and get out of the way. He knew I was concentrating on the books and not really paying attention, so this was his opportunity to talk to me before I realized what was happening. The fact that he had not broken eye contact with me since I spoke to him gave me that sinking feeling I have when I’m about to get Amway’d.
“So are you a programmer?” the guy asks.
“Uh, yeah,” I mumbled, immediately picking up the nearest book and pretending like it was the most important thing I’d ever read.
“What kind of operating system do you program in, Visual Basic?” At this point the Amway Security Alert Level is at code red. For you non-techies out there, an operating system is what runs your computer, like Windows XP or Linux. Visual Basic is a programming language. It would be like him asking me, “What kind of car do you drive, Michelin?”
So, trying to be nice, I replied, “No, C#.” Another programming language.
“Oh, so do you any kind of web programming?”
“Yes”
Wait for it……. wait for it…..
“Oh, that’s very interesting. I happen to run a web-based business…..“
Yeah, no shit. At this point I jetted. I just put my book down, said “Cool,” and walked away from him. I went to hide a few sections over and thumbed through a copy of “Friday Night Lights”. I went back about two minutes later and he was gone.
What is the deal with you people? Why is it that when I meet you while looking for a computer book or buying a video game I feel like a 14 year-old girl getting hit on in cyberchat by some crusty old man? Leave me the hell alone. No, I don’t want to join your cult and pay you two-hundred bucks a month for the privelege of harassing my friends to buy 40 cans of coffee from me. They already have enough reasons to dislike me. I don’t need to pay for another one.
I think I’ve come up with a solution though. The next time I get Amway’d, I’m going to look that chump right in the eye, shake his hand, and say, “Jeff Turner, web programmer. Damn glad to meet you.”
My main man Jigga hits the big 3-0 today. Happy Birthday, buddy! Welcome to the club.
A college a capella choir does a unique rendition of some old Nintendo game themes. Cool stuff. [hat tip, Joystiq]
The blizzog wishes a belated happy birthday to Yogi Berra, who turned 80 at the age of 80 yesterday.
Minnesota Vikings running back Onterrio Smith was briefly detained at the airport last month when authorities found a fake penis in his bag. No, not that kind of fake penis, silly. That’s not how O likes to get down. It’s the fake penis that comes with “The Original Whizzinator”, a device that helps degenerate drug users cheat drug tests.
The device is designed to be worn as an undergarment, and consists of a pouch that holds the clean urine connected to a prosthetic penis that you presumably slip over your own before going in for that pesky drug test. Once you’re alone with your cup, a clever twist of the phony phallus lets the good times flow.
To be sure that men of all races can keep smoking weed while selling stereos at Best Buy, the creators of “The Original Whizzinator” offer the product in five, uh, colors - white, tan, latino, brown, and black (warning: this link will take you to pictures of sham schlongs). So even if you’re not trying to stay on the chronic, you can finally get that latino colored penis that your girlfriend always wished you had.
“But Jamie,” you might ask, “Where am I going to get a clean urine sample from? I’m too embarassed to ask my friends.” Fear not, dear blizzog reader, for the good folks at “The Original Whizzinator” have thought of everything. The product comes with dried urine that you can mix with water and put in the pouch. The product even comes with heat packs to keep your poser piss at the perfect temperature.
In related news, there is a market for dried urine!!! I want to know how this happens. Do they just put an ad in the paper like when people donate blood or sperm? “Are you drug-free and blessed with a functioning penis? Do you believe that man should be able to smoke herb while playing Grand Theft Auto AND hold down a job at Pizza Hut? Give us a call!!!”
And once they get the urine, how do they dry it? Do they put it on cookie sheets and bake it dry? Is there someone like the Dunkin’ Donuts guy who gets up every morning and mumbles, “Time to make the fake piss”? Does someone sit there with a hair dryer? These are the things I have to know.
So whether you’re a top-flight pro athlete, the training staff at Florida State, or a deadbeat insurance salesman, now you can stick it to The Man when he tries to make you obey the law. Now if you’ll excuse me I have some pee to sell.
Why are some people so incredibly stupid?
This past weekend I had the pleasure of attending my brother-in-law’s graduation from Appalachian State University in lovely Boone, NC. As graduation ceremonies go, I’d have to say it was one of the best I’ve ever attended. The speakers were brief, but insightful. The band did a nice rendition of “Pomp and Circumstance” and “The Star Spangled Banner.” It was all around good times.
Only two things marred what was an otherwise splendid affair: Redneck Air Horn Family and Redneck Cell Phone Guy.
The school was kind enough to read the names and honors of each student graduating from the College of Arts and Sciences, about 675 people by my estimate. Normally this can suck the life out of an already lifeless graduation ceremony, but App did a great job of keeping things moving at a nice pace without rushing.
Like every other graduation I’ve attended, we were asked to hold our applause until after all the names had been read. And just like every other graduation I’ve attended, that didn’t happen.
I have no problem with family and friends uttering a brief little whoop of joy or even some crazed shouting after the name of their favorite graduate is read. After all, these are often the people who have sacrificed much of themselves such that said graduate could be on that stage in the first place. Let them have their moment. They deserve it.
At least most of them deserve it. Redneck Air Horn Family does not deserve it. These are the folks for whom it is not enough to stand up and cheer for their graduate. Oh, no. They must announce to the rest of the crowd how special their little graduate is by blaring an outdoor air horn in an indoor arena. Verrrry classy. This happened at least 10 times during the ceremony and it got less cool with each instance.
Well done, rednecks. Nothing announces your utter jubilation to the rest of us quite like your oh-so-subtle 15-second air horn blasts. We weren’t sure if you were happy that your little precious attained the degree that so obviously eluded you, but you holding that can of compressed gas into the air and squeezing the trigger for all it’s worth really drove it home for us.
I’m sure that the friends and family of the student whose name was called after yours were much happier to hear your one-note salute than the name of the person they’ve spent the last four years helping through school. I guess since they weren’t smart enough not to bring air horns to the ceremony like you then they don’t really deserve to experience one of the most exciting moments of that student’s life.
What is it with you people? Could you not yell “GIT ‘ER DONE!!!” loud enough? Do us all a favor next time and leave your air horn in your bass boat where it belongs. You know, so you can use it to warn unsuspecting water skiers that you’ve finished that 12-pack of Natty Ice and you’re comin’ through no matter what.
Not to be outdone by Redneck Air Horn Family was Redneck Cell Phone Guy. You might think that Redneck Cell Phone Guy was in the crowd talking so loudly on his phone that others couldn’t hear the ceremony, but you’d be wrong.
No, Redneck Cell Phone Guy was actually one of the graduates who was so cool that he couldn’t be bothered to hang up his cell phone before getting on stage. He waltzed across the stage and shook the hands of the chancellor and the Chairman of the Board of Trustees while he was on his cell phone. What an idiot.
Way to go, Mensa. I’m sure that all the prospective employers in the audience were saying to themselves, “I’d want to hire THAT guy.” You’d better hope that was a producer for FOX’s “My Big Fat Obnoxious Graduate” on the phone. Because unless the night manager at the local Waffle House happens to transfer to Wilkesboro, there may not be too many job opportunities awaiting you.
The blizzog would like to congratulate the parents and graduates who were classy enough to respect the rights of others at Sunday’s ceremony. To the rest of you morons who couldn’t be bothered to show some consideration for anyone else, please remember that I like extra cheese and light sauce on my pizza, and I don’t like to be kept waiting. GIT ‘ER DONE!!!!!
