Friday, June 29, 2007

iPhone Insanity

Chicago Public Radio is wrapping up their fiscal year with what is quite possibly the world’s longest pledge drive. Obviously, they are running a tad short this year and so they decided to move up the pledge drive for next year and lengthen it to get a little extra to cover this year.

In itself, this is nothing too terribly surprising. But today they rolled out something extra special – they are giving away an iPhone every hour to someone who has pledged today. This is a brilliant idea – not only does it incite people to pledge on the last day of the drive, but it also gets people who have already given to call back and pledge more money in order to get into the drawing (since only people who pledge today are included in the drawings). Of course, this was enough of an incentive for me to give a little extra, even through my membership isn’t due for renewal until the fall.

Note that I’m not really interested in getting an iPhone just yet. This is mostly because of the unwritten rule I have about “Never buy a first generation Apple Product”*. But it’s also due to the fact that the iPhone is currently set up to work only with AT&T’s EDGE data network, which operates at much slower speeds than pretty much every other carrier’s network. Plus, even though AT&T is working on upgrading their data network, by the time that is done their network will run on a completely different standard that is not backward-compatible with the iPhones hitting the streets today**. By that time, Apple will have the 2nd generation phone available that will be compatible with AT&T’s new network, but it’ll probably also be past the point of network exclusivity, so then you’ll see iPhones rolling out for your Verizon, Sprint, or T-Mobile networks in addition to AT&T, so why switch?

At this point, you might be asking yourself "Fine Grrrbear, but why did you pledge again in order to get entered in the drawing if you're not interested in getting an iPhone?" Simple – arbitrage, baby! I figure that since iPhones are selling on eBay for $1000 at a pop it can’t hurt to try and win one that I can then resell right away. But when I was researching that information I saw an even more crazy aspect of the current iPhone-mania: all the twits on eBay trying to sell iPhone-related URLs for absurdly-high prices. For example, check out the following auctions for these URLs on eBay right now:

  • www.see-iPhones.com – One of the bargains out there right now at only $995, but (and here I quote the seller) it’s “Worth over 1,000,000.00 in my mind”. Of course, the picture of the Hooters girl is a small bonus…
  • iPhone-4u.com – Best of all with this one you also get seven other equally crappy URLs all bundled into one package o’crap for less than $4000! Well, one cent less than $4000 but still!
  • iPhone-usa.com – Only $25 thousand dollars for this one
  • ticklemeiphone.com – This last one is the absolute worst. Seriously? You expect me to pay $50 grand for a name as stupid as “ticklemeiphone.com”? Are you five years old?
And don’t even get me started on all the morons selling iPhone-related yahoo-email accounts. Urgh…it’s all too much stupidity for my brain to handle…

* Because the 2nd generation is usually so much better
** See my rule above.

The duckies are coming! The duckies are coming!

World War 3 is upon us! Head for the hills!

Well, it’s not upon *us* exactly. Rather the Brits. They are about to suffer a massive amphibious landing of thousands of plastic Chinese bathtoys that fell off a container ship in 1992 and have been floating around the world’s oceans since then. Like a massive biker gang of little plastic ducks, turtles, frogs, and beavers the horde has been roaming the world’s oceans providing lots of data on ocean currents and $100 savings bonds for anyone lucky enough to find them in Canada, Iceland, or New England.

That’s right, even though the amphibious assault force fell off the boat in the Pacific, it has sneaked up through the Bering Strait, survived being frozen in ice for 10 years or so, and finally spilled out into the North Atlantic, bringing their west-coast brand of bathtoy terror to the east. Apparently, the trip through the ice was pretty traumatic for the warm-blooded duck and beaver though, as both have turned white while the cold-blooded turtle and frogs still radiate their original blue and green colors*

Myself I find this whole thing fascinating. Sure, because the science is neat, but also because hey - the company made plastic bathtoys in the shape of beavers! I mean, sure, ducks and frogs and turtles, sure – but where does one come up with the idea of a beaver bathtoy? I mean, why not a hippo? Or for that matter, a muskrat?

Unless, of course, all the beavers were targeted at the Canadian market. Those Canadians sure do love their beavers! [insert joke here]

* No doubt due to their ability to hibernate.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Gettin' the band back together

The Spice Girls announced that they are re-forming for an 11-city world tour this winter. To be honest, I’m not really certain how I feel about it. On the one hand the jaded Grrrbear is waving my paw at it and saying “Bah!” – viewing the whole thing as an exercise in over-hyped mediocrity and a pathetic money-grab.

But the kinder, gentler Grrrbear is kind of glad, because let’s face it – the Spice Girls are a big part of pop culture history, and woe to the society that fails to preserve or remember its history, right? I mean, who doesn’t want to hear a new, live version of “If You Wanna Be My Lover” on the radio every 10 minutes again? Besides, I kind of think that Sporty and Baby Spice* could probably use the work since they didn’t get to marry a soccer star or get child support from Eddie Murphy. And Ginger Spice** seems do be doing all right considering she can afford hire actual giants as personal trainers.

If that guy were my trainer I’d be concerned he’d try to eat me If my form was wrong. But, I suppose that would be pretty motivating…

* Or should it be “Spices”?
** Come to think of it, isn’t this nickname kind of cruel considering she was the redhead?

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Obviously, I lack the eye for quality that J.Bro has

Rooting around in the old unpacked boxes Sunday, I found three old pairs of jeans. Not just any old pairs of jeans either, but three timeless classics of a generation gone by: a pair of Levi’s Silvertab jeans, a pair of Arizona Jeans Company jeans, and (better yet) a pair of Gitano jeans. These were jeans that I wore back in my high school/college years and that had somehow managed to evade detection over the years by hiding in this little box I had overlooked all this time. Like Anne Frank or Macchu Picchu, except with tapered legs and a faded stonewash.

I was pretty excited to find them actually. I mean, these were my cool jeans! But when I pulled them from the box and rushed them over to show the GF, she looked like I was showing her something dead. The conversation went something like this:

GF: “OMG what are those things?”

GB: “They’re my old jeans! Levi’s Silvertab, Arizona, and Gitano. See? Wasn’t I cool?”

GF: “They look disgusting. What are those stains?”

GB: “What stains?”

GF: “Those stains right there.”

GB: “I don’t know, they’ve been in a box for at least 5 years… I wonder what I’d get if I sold them on eBay!”

GF: “Probably nothing.”

GB: “What do you mean? They’re, like, vintage!”

GF: “No honey, your moldy old jeans with the mysterious stains are *not* vintage. But it’s very cute that you think so.”

GB: “You think they’re filled with dangerous allergens, don’t you?”

GF: “Don’t bring those any closer, please.”


Of course, when I looked up Gitano jeans on eBay it turns out she’s right. It’s not worth the $10 I might get to figure out how to actually post them.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Who doesn't learn to ride a bike until they're 20+ anyway?

Yesterday afternoon I plunged into perhaps the most vigorous spring cleaning effort since I moved into the new place. How did I know this, you ask? Easy, because I finally got around to pulling a bunch of stuff from under my bed*, cleaning out one of my two “up high” storage cabinets in my closet, and finally opening the last two boxes from my move into the condo circa 2003.

There were two notable things that happened during this effort. First, I happened to observe an adult woman learning how to ride a bike for the first time. She had two of her friends along to “help” her. I use the quotation marks to emphasize that their level of “help” varied along what were clearly gender lines – one friend was a guy and one was a girl. And while both of them were running alongside her the first time she headed down the street, by the 2nd time around the block the girl was still running but the guy had reduced his involvement to simple walking, even as the bike-girl hurtled down the street towards her potential peril.

All told it was an interesting thing to watch. Because you sometimes forget what it’s like to ride a bike for the first time without training wheels, with your dad or mom pushing the seat and helping you get up to speed until they let you go. Then, suddenly there’s that feeling of freedom! The feeling of finally being able to do something on your own! To be free of your parents imperial laws, controlling your own direction and indeed – your own destiny!

At that point, of course, you typically fall over and skin your knee. Thankfully, your mom or dad was probably there with the Neosporin.

* Stuffed there during a “Crap, people are coming over any minute and I’m still not done cleaning” last-minute cleaning effort pre-Halloween Party ‘06

Friday, June 22, 2007

Some editor actually thought this was news

It is just me, or is this possibly the most obvious headline ever? I swear...at first I thought they'd inadvertently lifted it from The Onion.

Seriously - does anyone know a parent out there who *wants* their kid exposed to more sex and violence?

I mean *besides* Dina Lohan?...

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Quickie - To the victor go the spoils!

Since J.Po requested it - I present to you the prize I won from winning my friend's trivia game - the reunion edition:



Those of you who went to OAM know who this is and why it's the best prize I have ever won in my history of winning stuff.

Feel...sluggish...

I'm not quite sure how this happened, but this week has been brutal. I've not been able to fall asleep at reasonable a reasonable hour, and when I do fall asleep I don't sleep well. Some of it might be stemming from my "Slaughter Weekend"* lifestyle at reunion, but it's also probabyl caused by a big project for work that culminated in a presentation on Tuesday, coupled with a grant application I had to help write up today for the Theater Company.

All I can say is that I don't feel particularly interesting, witty or funny at the moment. Just an off week, I'm sure I'll be more interesting next week after I get some sleep. Heck, now that most stuff is done for the week, maybe I'll be able to sleep tonight.

Mmmm...I smell a 9:00 bedtime...

* "Up all night, sleep all day!"

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Final reunion post, I promise!

After spending yesterday catching up on work and mentally debriefing from the OAM reunion, here’s what I’ve learned as a result of the weekend:

  • My best friends are my college friends. Sure, the GF is my best-est friend, but I think she counts because she would have been a perfect OAM alumna if she had only know about it when she was applying.
  • I really, really, cannot tolerate heat well. This is no surprise to anyone.
  • The drive from Chicago to OAM-ville doesn’t feel nearly as long as it is. Sure, it’s six hours, but it *feels* like less. This is a good sign because I have to drive back up there in two weeks for the GF-and-I’s trip camping in the wilderness*.
  • My little 6-inch fan is useless as a room air-circulator. In fact, I think it circulated air about as well as my breathing in and out.**.
  • It’s only been ten years, but I’m already turning curmudgeonly and nostalgic about my college experience vis-à-vis the current students***.
  • Applying 55 spf sunblock every 2-3 hours is overdoing it a little, and will result in a thick layer of grout-like sunblock remnant working its way into every wrinkle on your skin.
  • OMG gas is cheap there! Well...either that or it's god-awful expensive in Chicago. The day I left I filled up for about $1 less per gallon than I usually pay down here. The final total added up to less than $40 for the first time in *months*!
  • We OAM alums sure like blogging about reunion!

* Complete with bears!

** Seriously, it was such a crappy fan that I threw it in the trash rather than carry it back home.

*** “We didn’t have no ‘recreation center’! We didn’t have no ‘wireless internet’! We had to use dialup! And if we had a 56k modem we were *lucky*!”

Monday, June 18, 2007

I already miss everybody!

Well after four days kicking it old school at the OAM reunion, I can pretty much safely say that I absolutely picked the right school to go to. It's interesting because all my friends who didn't go to OAM all feel pretty ambivalent about their reunions. But bring up the subject of an OAM reunion and any alumni will get all excited about the idea of hanging out with other OAM alums for a long weekend.

I was trying to think about why it's such a big deal for us on the drive home while listening to some podcasts of This American Life when it hit me - OAM is a lot like summer camp*. It's such a bonding experience among those who attend that anyone who is outside of that world doesn't really appreciate it in the way that those who were there did. That's why I didn't mind so much that the GF couldn't come - sure, it would have been fun to have her along. And no doubt she would have gotten along with everyone smashingly well**. But while I was watching the other spouses/sig-others who were their just tailing around after their Alumnus/a-partner, I kind of felt sorry for them, because they really don't understand the way we do.

In other reunion-related news, My Friend and his New York Show actually brought it to campus for reunion and I was once again on the winning team. This makes me 3-for-3 in terms of entries-to-victories and so now I'm afraid that the next time I'm in NYC and try to play, he's going to put me on a bad team*** to prove that there's no conspiracy theory. Maybe this is a sign that I need to retire now that I've got my third championship and go play minor-league baseball like Michael Jordan...

* Naturally this idea hit me while listening to the TAL episode about summer camp.
** Thereby adding to the list of my friends who like her more than they like me.
*** Either the one populated entirely with deaf-mutes or (perhaps) a team of salt-and-pepper shakers.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Quickie - Roadtrip!

Those of you playing along at home should probably know that I'm blogging from OAM at the moment, where I'm at for a fun long weekend at my 10 year college reunion. I've alreayd hung out with TOWWAS and J.Po quite a bit and no doubt there will be a OAM Reunion foot picture yet to come. I'm trying to schedule it for tomorrow when I can wear my loon shoes and can be easily identified.

More stories to come, probably.

Oh, also don't worry about me thus far - despite the two days of 90 degree heat and merciless sun, regular applications of sunblock have prevented any sunburn, I'm as pasty as ever.

Now, must go reapply...

These *are* dirty pillows

All right, I'm officially frightened. Well, now some crazy person has invented another pillow designed to look like the dismembered torso of a man in a blue oxford shirt. I'm not exactly sure what is more disturbing, the fact that it exists, the fact that Amazon is selling it, or the ad copy that they use to describe it's selling points:

"Feel the embrace of a real man without the snoring, smell, tossing or turning"
  • Yeah, because real boys are stinky!
"Feel his safe and warm embrace while comfortably resting on his chest"
  • What do you mean "safe"? You feel safe sleeping on an armpit-shaped pillow? It's a pillow, for cryin' out loud! What, like it's going to protect you in the event an intruder comes into your bedroom? What's it going to do, leap up and arm wrestle the guy to death? IT'S A PILLOW!!!!
"You will love how this boyfriend arm pillow is so soft and warm, and the way that he wraps around you and holds you all through the night with out saying a word...as if he knows exactly what you want"
  • So, what you want is a guy with no brain who will just lie there and say nothing - nice standards...
And I thought the girlfriend lap pillows were bad.


Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Quickie - This man who made me Science Student of the Year of my graduating class

Mr. Wizard passed away from bone cancer yesterday. I'm very sad. He and Mr. Rodgers were two of the real quality role models for boys on television while I was growing up. Mr. Rodgers for being the quintessential friend who said it was all right for me to be me, and Mr. Wizard for showing how much fun you can have around your house with stuff that's already sitting in your mom's cupboard*.

Anyway, if you were a fan of the Mr. Wizard's world show on Nickelodeon, here's a total flashback:



Man, I'ts been *years* since I'd seen that. Thanks, YouTube!

* Mom: "Where's the baking soda?" Me: "We ran out!" Mom: "Were you making volcanos again?"

Don't look directly at the stupid!

Given that I'm not a fan of reality television in general, it should come as no surprise to anyone that I have never actually watched "American Inventor". But after seeing a clip floating around on Youtube this past weekend I'm now sort of intrigued. The premise is that this woman came up with an idea for a new kind of lingerie that she pitched to the judges in a way that can only be described as "bold". The premise of it is that it looks like some sort of ribbon-thing that with just a tug of two strings, completely pops off*.

Obviously, the judges didn't really go for it. Naturally, the one women judge flipped out while the three guy judges sat there in a mix of stunned amazement and junior-high giggling**. Then the lady judge ran off and got her coat for the model to cover up, despite the fact that the robe she had been wearing was sitting about 5 feet away.

As I see it, there are two main problems with this woman's thinking:

First, the product itself. Obviously, I cannot speak for all men. But I can say that while most of us rather enjoy seeing our ladies nekkid, there is something to be said for having to do some work to get there. One timple tug to get to the promised land? The only guys that'll appeal to are the lazy guys who are either not willing to put forth a little effort or outright frightened by hooks, laces, buttons, and/or clips. And frankly, those guys should be the ones getting weeded out of the gene pool anyway.

Second, the venue. Seriously lady? You actually thought that promoting this product on a show that airs on ABC would be a good idea? They are owned by *Disney* for pete's sake! I can think of multiple places where this might fly and get serious inquiries (e.g. Fredricks of Hollywood, that porn trade show in Vegas, Britney Spears' concert costume designer). Heck, why not wait until Fox comes up with a copycat show of their own and try it there, at least they'd consider it.

* Sort of like warmup pants that you see NBA players taking off before coming into a game, only you go from being almost nekkid to being completely nekkid.
** Not to mention the undoubtable satisfaction from knowing that in an Alanis-Morrisetteish-style-of-ironic way; they were getting paid to see a stripper.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Sometimes you just wonder...

I ran across this picture on the web months ago and saved it, thinking that it would make good blog-fodder. Then, I promptly forgot about it until stumbling across it in the "My Pictures" folder.




Really and truly, this picture speaks for itself. Everything that you are thinking right now is exactly what I thought when I first saw it...

"Is that real or photoshopped?"
"Chewie, NOOOOOOOO!"
"How does Chewbacca swallow food given that is throat is just two tiny holes? Does he eat nothing but milkshakes? How did they make milkshakes on a jungle planet like Kashyyyk anyway?"

Given the costuming, my theory is that this picture was taken during the filming of the Hoth sequences of Empire Strikes Back. Probably during a break, Harrison Ford was showing off his new Kodak DISC camera and got Carrie Fisher and Peter Mayhew to put together a pseudo-"in flagrante delicto"* shot and then one of his kids found it in a shoebox labelled "Empire Photos", showed it off to his junior high friends, one of whom scanned it and put it on his MySpace page where it got picked up by BoingBoing and the rest, as they say, is history.

Of course, that's all just a theory...

* Can I just tell you how much I love this phrase? Translated literally, it means "while the crime is blazing". I totally need to use it more often...

Monday, June 11, 2007

Quickie - Sometimes logic fails me

Netflix is telling me that because I liked "National Lampoon's Animal House" that I'll enjoy "The Outlaw Josie Wales".

Can anyone explain that one? 'Cause frankly I'm at a loss as to how the two are even remotely related. Sure, they're both sminal films, but if you're going to recommend OJW, why not "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly"?

Heck, why not "Gandhi"?

Hi, my name is Grrrbear, and I'm a sweets-aholic

One of the things that amazes the GF about me* is the size of my sweet tooth. This is no secret, she has told me this to my face on multiple occasions. One reason for this is that it is one of the few areas where we really differ**. You see, I'm a sweets-lover and she's a salty junkie***. This is actually both a good thing and a bad thing for me. Good because I never have to worry about her eating any of my treats provided I supply a steady stream of popcorn and pita chips. It's not so great however because of the significantly higher caloric content of most of my favorites vis-a-vis her favorites. In fact I've sort of scaled back my sweets consumption over hte past couple years as my metabolism has gradually decided to give up and let the terrorists win.

But yesterday we went to a lamb roast that is thrown by a colleague of hers every year. It is usually a pretty big soiree and does, indeed, involve the roasting of an entire lamb on a spit. While the lamb is usually quite tasty, it's all the other stuff that really makes it a good party: corn on the cob grilled in the husk, various assortments of pasta and potato salad, veggies and dip, etc. But the best thing is an entire table of baked goods - both the homemade stuff as well as the "We bought this at the Jewel on the way here" favorites. There were little cupcakes, three different kinds of brownies, some sort of bar that combines yellow cake with an apple pie filling, and fresh baked chocolate chip cookies.

Needless to say I completely fell off the wagon. Total amount consumed: five brownies (4 frosted, one fresh-from-the-oven), three cake-plus-apple-pie bars****, two cupcakes, one grasshopper Oreo, and a chocokate-chip/oatmeal cookie. All that, plus a lamb-filled pita picket sandwich as a main course. I swear, not since B&L's wedding (with the multiple cakes) have I gorged myself on pastries like I did yesterday.

Oof.

Yet, in an amazing twist of fortune, when I weighed myself this morning I was actually a half-pound lighter than I was on Saturday. America's next diet craze will clearly be the "All Pastry" diet...

* Aside from the blinding good looks, mind-boggling intelligence, rapier wit, and boundless modesty, of course.
** Well...this and the whole "she's a vegetarian" thing.
*** Avast!
**** I mean, I had to identify what they were, after all...it was for science!

Friday, June 08, 2007

In memoriam for Rob (but not Fab yet)

It's been a little quiet around here lately due to an upcoming deadline for work that is commanding most of my free time, but I couldn't let today pass by without a little reminder of one of the biggest stories of my generation - Robert Pilatus. Perhaps better known as the "Rob" half of Milli Vanilli, Pilatus was born on this day back in 1965. Growing up as an orphan in Germany, we all know his story of how he met up with Fabrice Morvan to form Milli Vanilli and the whole collapse of his career after the lip-synching story broke. Rob was then reduced to serving as the butt of jokes in gum commercials and trying desperately to put out legitimate records. Of course he never overcame the scandal and eventually died of a drug overdose in 1998.

Truly a sad story, but when I saw it was his birthday today I couldn't help but imagine how the whole thing might have been different if it had happened in contemporary society rather than back in the early 90's. I mean, compare the response that Milli Vanilli got to the one that Ashlee Simpson received when she got caught caught lip-synching on SNL a while back*. Rob and Fab were burned at the metaphorical stake and Ashlee was invited back to SNL a couple months later to try again. Of course she got a new nose, which was an innovative tactic. Maybe Rob getting a new nose and Fab putting out a night-vision porn video a la Paris Hilton would have been enough to not only save their careers but also propel them to new hights of fame in todays society!

Who knows? From the looks of it,even with their actual voices, they didn't sound that bad. Sure they aren't the greatest singers of their generation - but they're no worse than a lot of the stuff that was getting airplay back then**. Plus they seem to understand the marketing power of showing lots of sorta-nekkid chicks in videos, which boded well for a long and successful series of hot-chicks-dancing-themed videos. And who knew Fab could rap!?

* And don't start up with the "But she at least sung on her own record!" argument. Her albums are so over-produced that she sounds just as different in the studio vs. on the finished album as Rob and Fab sounded vs. the actual singers.
** Color Me Badd, anyone?

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Nut Cup vs. Sports Bra

While on the road last week for work I was sitting in an Applebee's getting dinner and I found myself watching a portion of a women's college softball game between Tennessee and Arizona. Apparently, these two teams are playing each other as we speak in the finals of the tournament. As I sat there eating my Chicken Brocolli Pasta Alfredo, I learned a few things about women's softball that I had not been aware of before. Granted, this was due largely to the fact that I'd pretty much ignored the sport* outside of Jennie Finch when she got all the hype with the USA women's Olympic team won the gold medal in '04.

Anyway, from what I could tell, there are several surprising aspects to women's softball that stood out particularly for me.
  • First, it seems that women softball players are a lot tougher than men. I saw one batter get hit by a pitch, but unlike in baseball she didn't get to take her base. It's almost like the umpire looked her and said "Don't be a wuss, swing the friggin' bat"*. Also, almost none of the players wear baseball caps, apparently because they are so tough that staring directly into the sun has no effect on them. Sure, some of them wear eyeblack, but even that's uncommon.
  • Second, lots of the players wear makeup. This just seems weird. I saw one bench where 8 of the players were at least wearing eye makeup. In fairness, maybe eyeliner and mascara combination does the same thing as eye black and helps fight glare from the sun. I have only worn them on stage (where it didn't help me with the stage lights at all) but perhaps the lady readers can ring in on this one. Alternatively, maybe they knew the game might be on HDTV and wanted to "even out their tone" and "eliminate blotchiness" in their "oily T-zone"**.
  • Third, maybe it was just this game (that apparently featured two of the really good pitchers in the game) but it was *really* boring. I mean, there's nothing exciting about watching player after player strike out. From what I've read since there were some other games where actual points were scored. But from what I saw, the game itself was dull.

All told I only watched about 3-4 innings before deciding I'd rather hit the pool before the families with kids showed up for "Pee in the Pool-fest" after dinner at Grandmas.

* This is unusually similar to what I've witnessed in college Lacrosse, where the men wear hockey gloves, pads, and helmets while the women wear ponytails and skirts. Of course, male lacrosse players pretty much strike me as the popped-collar, Lincoln Park Chad, pretty-boy working for Deloitte sort of character. And I know lots of women who are way tougher than *those*.

** There, I've now used all three phrases I can remember from makeup commercials. That's it, all the rest slid off my long-term memory like an egg off a new non-stick skillet.

Monday, June 04, 2007

Olympic Rorschach Baby!

The title of the Reddit link to an article describing the new logo for the London 2012 Olympics is: "London 2012 Olympics Logo resembles Lisa Simpson giving head".


Frankly, I kinda get what they're talking about*:


Initially, I was a little surprised that London was just coming out with their logo *now*. After all, Chicago's had our logo done for months as part of our bid to win the 2016 games, and it's way cooler:



Sadly, though, we won't get to actually use that logo because the IOC has some rules forbidding host cities from using Olympics symbols like the rings, the torch, and medals in their city logo. Which makes perfect sense, because heaven forbid that people know that the city is hosting the friggin' Olympics, and not, say, a large bake-off or bridge tournament.

Lord...sometimes trademark laws are so stupid...

* Although to be completely honest at first I thought it read "Jessica Simpson giving head". Not that it mattered - it pretty much looks like anybody giving head, including Milo Bloom, Huey from the Boondocks, and just about any Lego Character ever made.

Saturday, June 02, 2007

America's Sweaty Penis is getting kicked in the left testicle right now

I woke up yesterday morning to learn that not only had I arrived in Florida on a hot and humid day, but it was also opening day of Hurricane Season. Great, I thought to myself, and here I am completely lacking in emergency supplies. And after tending to work-related stuff* I hopped in the car and proceeded to drive south down to my stepsister's house in Naples. Lucky for me, too because there's already a Tropical Storm hitting the west coast - including the exact area where I was at yesterday. Of course, the storm itself was named "Barry" which seems oddly appropriate. Maybe it's just me, but the name "Barry" implies a large, drunk frat-boy who stumbles around the party where everyone else is being cool and trying to have a good time, where he makes an ass of himself by hitting on ex-girlfriends, breaking things, and eventually vomiting on the rug.

Fortunately for me, I was driving away from where Barry was making landfall, but I was already getting hit by some of the leading edge of the storm. It was horrible! Winds were reaching up to 15 miles per hour, and it was raiding so hard that sometimes my entire windshield was mildly moist! When I finally arrived I asked my niece how she managed to survive in such torrential hurricane conditions. To which she replied "This isn't a hurricane, it's barely even raining." Obviously, she's been toughened by the non-stop hurricane conditions down here and has no perspective. Not that I'm surprised, this coming from a girl who never saw snow until she was eight.

Speaking of drunken frat-boys, I forgot to tell ya'll about the giant douche I saw on the plane while on the way down. At first, he looked like your regular garden-variety Lincoln Park Chad, complete with artfully-frayed ballcap and popped collar polo shirt. But then I noticed that this was a very special popped-collar shirt - on thebackside of the popped collar was a word, embroidered into the fabric. The word was "Prepster". I was completely mortified by this turn of events, because not only does this mean that popped-collars are more than just a passing fad, but designers are now designing shirts that are *made* to be worn with the collars popped**.

Between popped-collars, leggings under dresses, and jeans-with-skirts, I'm now convinced that I have become a grumpy old man with respect to fashion at the ripe old age of 32. Truth be told I have always figured that it would happen eventually, just not quite this early.

* I had a business meeting Friday morning - the reason I was down here to begin with.
** As there would be no other way to see that word if the collar was being worn properly.