There's another dude

Friday, October 5, 2007

Oh the Misanthropic Topical Arrangement...

Kelly, get in the OWNED line. Here's me owning her while she tries to apply for a class at an improv theater:

Me: I just applied for an experimental improv class
Her: applied??
Her: how do you apply?
Me: yeah you have to write in and apply
Me: they review everyone
Her: sounds cool
Me: hopefully it works out
Her: what the hell...it doesn't say how to apply...
Her: do you write a letter or what?
Me: you have to do a 200-word paragraph
Her: i don't get how they're supposed to review anything about you
Me: about what your goals are in improv
Me: and like your comedy idols and stuff
Her: oh
Me: i think they just go on the essay
Her: where does it say that?
Me: in the about section on the webslant
Her: fuck man...all i see is to see the instructions below and there are none
Me: did you click the webslant?
Her: what's a webslant?
Me: the part with the star on top
Me: the about section
Her: this is the page i'm looking at: (link)
Her: which part are you talking about?
Me: wait how many times did you refresh
Me: just now
Her: uhh i don't know. i didn't refresh
Me: ok so you're fine
Me: just visit the webslant and click the star
Her: what is a webslant shane
me: by the about section?
me: do you want me to just write your essay?
Her: fucking nevermind

Punchline: There is no such thing as a webslant.

Someone get that girl a weep-dish pizza.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Wicked Gil

Kyle wrote a song. I named it "Mary Girl"

The Flower doesn't think
Does it even know?
The little mary ran up the stairs
Thinking lightly
Like an explosive miracle
Does the past even know?

Mary Girl

Sorry to say
The stub could stick with me
Revolving in tiny little motions
Some Say
'Pansy, you like it that way!"
I'll tell you

I never liked it that way

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

I'm not too proud to say that I'm okay

Kyle gives me a taste of my own medicine on g-chat.

Kyle: i've got to get rid of a couple Beirut tickets for Wednesday I need to rid of. interested?

Me: The country or the band?

Kyle: THE GAME

Me: HEY-OH

Kyle: you just got p3wed

Someone get me a tear mug.

Monday, September 24, 2007

I got a permit with the city, you should see it sometime

I owned the piss out of Brian Glidewell today on g-chat.

Brian: i've got to get rid of a couple Beirut tickets for Wednesday i need to get rid of. interested?

Me: the country or the band?

Brian: band

Brian: $56 for the pair

me: then nah, not interested

Brian: k

Someone get that son of a bitch a crying pan.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

It's Hard to Find Nice Things

I want it on record that I coined the following phrase:

Levity is the soul of tit.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Wild Wild South

"We tried a desperate game and lost. But we are rough men used to rough ways, and we will abide by the consequences."

-Cole Younger, member of the James-Younger gang, upon his 1876 capture following the attempted robbery of a Northfield, Minnesota bank. Younger, along with his two brothers, was sentenced to life in prison. Bob Younger died in prision in 1889. Cole and Jim younger were paroled in 1901, but Jim committed suicide in 1902. Cole went on to tour the south with Frank James in a wild west show, and he became a Christian in 1912. He died in his Missouri hometown in 1916, age 72.

"Governor, I haven't let another man touch my gun since 1861."

-Frank James, while surrendering himself and his firearm in 1882 to Missouri governor Thomas Crittenden. Five months earlier, his brother Jesse had been assassinated by fellow gang members under Crittenden's employ. Due to his voluntary surrender, James stood trial in Missouri and Alabama only, avoiding extradition to Minnesota to face murder charges for the Northfield robbery, where he shot and killed a cashier. James' status as a confederate hero and champion of southern rights garnered sympathy and led to his acquittal in both trials. He went on to work as a shoe salesman, theater guard, telegraph operator, and entertainer. He died on his farm in Missouri in 1915, age 72.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

The Sporting News

Since I know most of you turn to this blog for all your sports information, I am declaring today a feast of celebration. It is a day of wonderful athletics, and the weekend will only continue the theme.

Baseball: The Yankees have triumphed twice against the Red Stockings, winning the home-stand. This afternoon at one they attempt the sweep. There is nothing like afternoon baseball to alleviate the oppressive boredome of my average Post Meridian. A victory today would set us 5 games back in the East, give us an 8-7 edge in the season series, and keep the pressure on the Mariners, who share our lead in the Wild Card hunt.

College Football: The season begins tonight. The main event is #2 LSU taking on Mississippi State. If you can't get behind SEC football, there's nothing to be done for your sad soul. The southeastern United States is a congealed mass of anger, impotence, poverty, and crime. Yet each autumn, stadium lights shed a sort of grace on that beleaguered land. It is like the smile of an ugly child receiving an award for sheer persistence. Even the teeth of a dog glow in the sun.

Unfortuantely, I will be practicing improv in some godforsaken dump of a theatre. I will be attempting to conjure imagined events in a manner approximating reality, while on any of myriad local televisions, fierce men without the luxury of pretense do battle against one another for the only kind of pride worthy of human exertion.

Tennis: Andy Roddick attempts to enact his bullheaded advance in the US Open, while Roger Federer skims along unruffled. Barring upset, the two will meet in the quarterfinal. For young Andy, the soulless embodiment of American excess, all flash and no spirit, the slow advance is akin to a covetous 13th centure Hungarian king. Yea, cruel despot, you may storm the native landscape, accumulating useless fiefdoms, but listen! Do you hear the thundering horde advancing from the east? Do you reckon their numbers? Do you tremble at their might? For they are the Mongols, and at their head is the great Khan!

From now on, I will only write about sport. There is no higher plateau.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

You can find me on the internet

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Chilly walk home

Today am I endorsing a product.

The product: Vaseline Intensive Care Aloe Cool & Fresh Body Lotion.

The story: Yesterday, while attending the US Open (my first professional tennis event), I neglected to cover the thigh area above my knees with any kind of sunblock. The result was a vicious burn. But this morning, in search of relief, I purchased the aforementioned lotion. Even before application, I was reassured by the non-threatening sea green of the bottle and the assertive dark blue of the cap. I had a feeling I could trust the firm yet gentle image implied by such a well-wrought chromatic combination. In the handicapped bathroom at work, I applied the cream to the affected areas, and the sensation brought to mind the loving ministrations of a Geisha covering a samurai's war wounds with ameliorative cucumbers. Minutes later, the throbbing red pain had all but vanished in vast, glistening pools of aloe, and I moved about the office with strides both confident and unhindered, earning admiration from my peers.

The Open was a blast. Roger Federer is one of the more graceful humans alive. He could dance with Apollo and reduce that quintessential heliophile to clumsy, supplicating tears.

Fall is almost upon us, which means the advent of college football season. Continuing last entry's theme of apropos nomens, I bring you LSU wide receiver "Early Doucet." Upon his christening, could fate have hidden, in its folds and nooks, any profession excepting star athlete for the crying babe?

I think not.

Finally, would you wish to wait in the backfield, mandated by shouted numbers to receive a hand-off and dash boldly through the guard-tackle hole, when across the line, in the linebacker position, crouches a man named Xavier Adibi?

I think not, redux.

QED.