Quality Assurance

Mis amigos…

If some of you feel that there has been a slight drop in both quality and quantity of my posts, don’t worry. I feel the same way. I’ve been slacking (I won’t say I’ve been too busy) and I want to give you all what you came for: quality social commentary and controversial and subversive humour. I am currently working on something that should be up today, but while you wait I have posted a video that should inspire you to be a little less selfish. But not too much–I wouldn’t want my reader base to be made up of people who are more admirable than I am.

And Lo! The answer came unto him. And he saw that it was good.

Oh my, oh my, oh my.

Just when I thought I knew everything there was to know about word processing, an angel by the name of Peter Lynn came unto me and showed me the way. Maybe some of you knew this already, but I had never stumbled across it in my near 26 years of livelihood.

Have you ever begun to type feverishly while looking somewhere other than the screen, only to find that YOU ACCIDENTALLY HIT CAPS LOCK AT THE BEGINNING? At this point, you are either forced to erase and re-type the sentence, or purge your sins in a confessional in the hopes that God will no longer smite you while working and save his cruel and unusual penance for the weekend.

Well, my pudding-thighed friends, you’ll be glad to hear that you can go back to tripping retarted service workers and pleasuring yourself in hotel lobbies without fear of reprisal, cause henceforth, God’s ability to stage word-processor based attacks on you will be severely stymied.

Shift + F3.

That’s right. It switches it all back down to lowercase. Highlight that shit and do it up. Don’t bother thanking me—rather, begin worrying about the new and creative ways the Lord will seek retribution upon you for electrocuting that chipmunk when you were 16, now that your typed documents are no longer vulnerable.

I’ve heard he’s fond of diabetes.

The Red Colour…You Know…

I was lovingly informed by my girlfriend last night that at one point, I was turning over and sleepingly approached her with the following (she had the foresight to write it down):

Remember about the red colour…

The red colour of the cartoon…

You know the red colour?…

Hmm.  What can we glean from this, other than the fact that I clearly (and unabashedly) still dream about cartoons?

Valentine’s is Gonna Rock!

Oh, man, tomorrow’s gonna be the best Valentine’s Day ever! I’ve got so much planned for my lovely lady, it’s gonna blow her mind!

9:00 AM: She awakens to the sound of a harp being played gently by an Asian woman sitting next to her bed.

9:15 AM: The sounds of bacon sizzling violently overpower the Asian woman’s plucks. The Asian woman is released from my service as my woman makes her way into the kitchen for the best double cheese western sandwich of the year.

10:00 AM: Scheduled intercourse, or ‘lovemaking’, as I will henceforth refer to it as due to the special occasion.

10:25 AM: Lovemaking session is adjourned. Satisfied praise acknowledged with humility.

10:30 AM: Half-hour of free wash-time.

11:00 AM: One dozen long-stemmed roses delivered by Charlton Heston.

12:00 PM: I depart for a half-day of work, during which time one (1) Lindt Lindor Chocolate, one (1) sample vial of Elizabeth Taylor’s White Diamonds perfume and one (1) moist towelette are delivered to her apartment.

4:30 PM: I return to pick up my now freshly-washed and luncheoned goddess from her abode.

4:45 PM: She sits quietly in the brisk February air as I read the legend of St. Valentine aloud, below the statue of Queen Elizabeth.

5:30 PM: I pose nude and present my girlfriend with an art brush and a collection of Crayola watercolor pads with which to paint a picture of me as a gift for herself.

7:00 PM: Reservations at The Keg. Girlfriend is invited to order “whatever she wishes” (restrictions: steaks above 8 ounces, shellfish).

9:00 PM: Evening showing of King Kong.

12:10 AM: Released from King Kong. Go back to my house for a brief kiss and then sleep (I do have to work in the morning!).

DAY ENDS

Wow, huh? Yeah, I know, it’s a bit much, but I guess that’s what love does to a gentleman. This year I didn’t forget: Valentines is Tuesday Feb 21st, the 6th last Tuesday preceding the first ecclesiastical full moon that occurs on or after the day of the vernal equinox.

This year I planned ahead, and I shall reap the benefits of a happy, spontaneous and stable relationship. At any rate, it’s much better than my last Tuesday, where I accidentally slept through work, woke up at 2 PM and watched Back to the Future 2 three times in a row.

A New Era for Me

Yes, I am a touch behind when it comes to blogging culture, just like I am behind in realizing that my blogging provider now supports video posts directly on one’s site. Here I am, open to you all, placing a video on my site for the first time.

Since, as anyone who knows me will attest, I have a deep love for Back to the Future, I found the following video deeply rewarding. There are many like it on the so-called InterWeb, but this is the one I like best. As a test video post, I don’t think I could do much better. Enjoy!

Here’s to the hope that, in the future, men and boys will be free to share their deep feelings for each other without the use of time machines.

How Can One Resist?

How can I possibly not put this link on my blog?

It’s like all of our childhood dreams coming true at once.

Click here to check it out.

Upping the Ante

Well, a few days ago, I made a brief reference to a humour article supposedly by the CEO of Gillette declaring he would take the razor war to the quintosphere. That same day, I happened to be looking at a TV (something I don’t do too often, due to my lack of cable) when I saw a commercial for the Gillette Fusion.

So, essentially, Gillette really “went there” (snap fingers accordingly), in a slow response to Schick’s Quattro. The odd thing is, that article is pretty old, and I posted it on a whim. So you can imagine my joy in realizing that something I put on my blog was actually pertinent.

What I am sort of suprised at, is the fact that Gillette ads are still taking their products as seriously as ever. There’s no ironic mention that they did exactly what every red-blooded man-who-won’t-go-to-a-power-shaver knew they would do. There have even been countless commercials spoofing the razor wars. Even the Schick company at least had a lighthearted approach to itself when they unleashed their 4 bladed razor. I believe the commercial went: “FOUR BLADES?! Where’s it gonna stop?” (a few seconds of flashing and bladelike sounds)….. “HERE.” (a man holding the razor up to the camera with conviction.)

But, no, the Gillette commercial was a serious as ever, and featured all the crisp shiny graphics and women stroking men’s faces that we’ve come to expect from a good razor ad. They even tried to add some of the trademark science jargon into the narration, except at this, they failed miserably. And I quote:
“The blades are spaced 30 percent closer together than MACH3 blades. This creates a ‘Shaving Surface’ that distributes the shaving force across the blades for significantly less irritation and more comfort.”

‘Shaving Surface‘? That’s the big scientific term (which they’ve trademarked, to boot)? I mean, give me something to wrap my head around. Why not: “Gillette presents its revolutionary ‘blade matrix.'” Or: “experience the power of Gillette’s ‘PentaSlice‘ technology.” Or even: “You’ll have to feel the ‘PowerCut‘ system at work to believe it.”

Despite all this, I’m a Gillette user through and through. I’ve been a Mach3 guy for many, many years, and it’s never let me down. Will I make the switch to the five blade razor?

Only time, and the fact that I currently wear a beard, will tell.

Religious Cartoons Should Only Mildly Offend

In the wake of all this extreme violence due to the series of cartoons depicting the Prophet Mohammed, I can only feebly try to offer some insightful commentary. Best I can do is offer up some potentially blasphemous cartoon of my own creation, in an attempt to counterbalance the outrage by depicting some of our other religious prophets. First up: who else? JESUS!

 

 

 

Next up: Moses!

So, you’ve noticed…

Well, gang, things have changed a little around here.  No big deal.  The main addition is the section to the left, where I’ve divided everything into tasty categories with alluring names like “sex” and “uncategorized“.

Oooo, that’s hot.  Of course, all the newest stuff will still appear right here.  Yes, just where you’re looking…no….a little higher…….exaaactly.

I will also be adding a very special section coming soon, though I have to discover the time for it first.  For now, look at this article, it’s one of my favourites, and tackles the extremely sensitive issue of multiple blade razors.

You’re all extremely lithe.

A Brief Greeting

Dearest Guests,

Your patronage means the world to me. Please continue to patronize this site.

Just because you so vigilantly checked today, I will create an impromptu rhyme: uh, let’s see.

A ball is round, a ball is red

A ball is something in your bed,

It’s round and shiny, full of stuff,

It’s wrinked, hairy, loose and rough.

That oughta do.

“And I twy”: A superbowl fiasco.

When did Mick Jagger get a speech impediment? Am I completely out of it, or, during his halftime performance of “satisfaction”, was he saying “And I twy…..and I twy….and I twy….and I twy…I CAN’T GET NO!” Sure, I’m not a big football watcher, and maybe I’m a little offside here (pun definitely intended), but shouldn’t they go over this kind of thing before they hit the stage? Maybe Mick bit his tongue just before going on, while reeling back after a particularly good hit of coke.

But maybe…just maybe…that’s what America wants to hear. Maybe speech impediments, being the earliest form of humour ever used, still strike a deeply visceral cord with most Americans. Porky Pig, for instance, being the first cartoon character ever created in the history of the world, had a speech impediment. So did Daffy Duck, Donald Duck, Sylvester the cat, Tweety Bird, Elmer Fudd, and many others (if you can think of some more, please send a comment to let me know, cause I’m fresh out). The point is, at least Justin Timberlake didn’t come on stage and rip open Mick’s fly, exposing his “banger and mash”, as he is known to affectionately call his genitalia. I mean, the guy’s legs are are the size of piano wire, imagine his billy club.

THE END

Mac vs. PC: The Apple and the Butterfly

Many of you reading this will feel strongly one way or the other. I don’t. What I do feel strongly about is the Mac’s indoctrination of its customers, so that they feel it is their duty to be the lifeblood of the company; it is their responsibility to convert as many people as possible to the wonders of the Mac family. It’s like the Branch Davidian of the computing world. I admit I’ve never owned a Mac, but some very close friends (both geographically and socially) of mine do.

I’m happy to say that our coexistence has been peaceful, but every now and then I find a hostility in some Mac users of which I’m not sure of the origin. In my limited experience with Macs, I must say they are nice to use, and the scroll buttons are pleasingly cornerless and colourful. No hostility there… When a program is loading, a calming spinning rainbow wheel is displayed. Hmmm. Seems pretty benign and promotes gay rights and racial unity. No anger in that…

So, why, then was recently I told: “Don’t talk to me,” by a Mac user when I told him I use the same Adobe Photoshop he uses, but on a PC? Why, then, did Mac come out with this ad, which not only disparages PCs, but does so in an offensive and condescending way? The ad basically suggests that PCs are “dull little boxes, dutifully performing dull little tasks.” Are there secret tasks that Macs and Mac users perform that only they are privy to? Every time I’ve seen a Mac being used, it was being used to watch internet videos, look at websites, edit photos or movies, or listen to music. While highly useful and entertaining, I wouldn’t classifly any of these tasks as “extraordinary”. Where is the “cure hunger” button on a Mac? What about the “locate nearest untapped oil well” command?

I can’t see that TV ad appealing to anyone except for existing Mac users, many of which will probably smile with a sense of knowing superiority and then return to downloading U2 music. In fact, I can see the ad doing the opposite of what an ad is supposed to do: attract more customers.

I’m interested in technology. I want to learn about what’s better and why it’s better, but I can’t ever seem to get a clean answer about why Macs are supposed to be better. It’s always something vague like “they’re more user-friendly” or “they’re more intuitive.” That’s cool, and I do understand that there are extremely fewer virus vulnerabilities for an Apple computer, but there has to me even more, no? Even searching on the web, it’s hard to find articles that are not extremely partisan one way or the other.

I did find this web page, though, which gives a point by point comparison between Macs and PCs; see what you guys can get out of it. Maybe some day, I’ll make a switch to a Mac if I discover some clear benefits that have nothing to do with group identity and corporate culture. But for now, I proffer Mac users all the love in my heart. Please love me back, and not hate me because I like computer games.

Your computers are nice. Let’s hope your company can learn to be too.

Another Five Second Mystery

Tully woke up and spun around to find his chicken cacciatore spread across the tiles. Someone would pay for this… Worse, as he bent down to recover what was left of it, he noticed his right hand had clearly been severed as well, making it difficult for him to lift the plate. Now it’s personal, he thought.

“Come out, you marauding miscreant! Show thineself!” he cried into the empty banquet hall. The gala had clearly finished without him. He was left alone amidst the crumpled napkins, the lipstick-smeared flute glasses and his own broken spirit. For a few minutes, he patrolled the lavishly decorated hall, hoisting down the sleeve of his tuxedo to stem the flow of blood from his severed arteries.

How long have I been out? Tully queried. The chicken was beyond resuscitation, as was his appetite. As he proceeded through the tables in a daze of anger and confusion, he was stopped dead in his tracks by a tapping sound behind him. Was the hall not in fact as empty as he thought?

Tully decided that the best course of action would be to feign ignorance of such a sound, and catch the culprit at his own game. He again began to stride slowly about the tables, the tapping sound growing ever more syncopated. tap tap….tap TAP…tap TAP. He maintained his composure, though just barely. tap TAP…tap TAP…tap TAP…

“A-HA!!” Tully spun around madly, launching a hardened bread roll in the direction of the tapping, blood flying in a glorious arc to follow it. But ’twas too late. The tapping sound had come from the other side of the room, where a window had been left open. The air blew through the crack, and on the back of Tully’s chair, gently rocking against the woodwork, hung…a pair of castanetas.

“GONZALEEEEEEEZ!!!!” Tully screamed into the dim light, as a sound of giggling grew ever fainter.