Sunday, November 30, 2008


In a time of slogan happy, fear inducing news services, this article from was a breath of fresh air. What struck me about it, and what so knocked me off my feet after reading CNN. com for years? This article was written with intelligence; something CNN and most news outlets lack.

Friday, November 28, 2008

I Go "Meyaa?"

If you ever needed a reason (and I don't know why you would) to understand why I worship Bill Shatner, here it is:

Friday, November 21, 2008

Passing the Time

Just minding my own business. A living, breathing form in complete harmony with the concrete and steel city. My gentle hand rests upon the hard black rubber, exploring the crevices and seams of this useful, and seemingly unappreciated, apparatus. My thoughts drift to those I have loved and those I have yet to love...




Fuck you!

I hate it when people pass me on the escalator. I fucking hate it. They make me feel lazy. I mean, how can a thinking and self respecting young man sit idly by as Johnny Prada suit skips gingerly up the parallel-grooved steps that I still have an irrational fear of catching my shoelace thanks mom in? What am I supposed to do!

He is obviously in good shape. I like to think I am to. But here's the rub: he has taken the initiative to not utilize the wonderful technology of user-propelling steps. No, he is so important that he has to use the steps not as a way of relaxing, as originally intended, but as veritable rocket boosters to his already gingerly gait... and I hate him for it.

When Mickey McAsshole passes me, I generally cast a very judging gaze in his direction. A "Am I not good enough for you?" stare. A "I swear I'm not lazy! I'm just enjoying the scenery! Don't judge." look.

Ok. I'll admit it. I rarely stand on the right. I love passing on the left. It's my job. It's an ego boost. It makes me feel really good. Besides the cardiovascular benefits, I get to pass good looking girls and leave a lasting impression. "Hey hey hey now! Who is this bundled package of Bearded Manhood? Come let mama unwrap her present..." or something like that.

That's why getting passed hurts so much. Whenever it happens, I slowly (dramatically) lower my head and admit defeat. I chose sloth. I chose stagnation. I chose temptation. I chose defeat. Gather your strength, Matt, and follow Jimmy Von Dickwad up the steps. Save some part of your minimal dignity. Your heart will thank you.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Thirsty Thursday!

It's 7:26pm on a Thursday night, and I am at my apartment in a white t-shirt and jeans, lying on top of my bed.

I know you're jealous.

But I just cried my fucking eyes out listening to this comedy skit:


Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Rebel Rebel

If you had to choose to live somebody else's life, who would you choose?

At first, I was thinking Napoleon. But then I remembered that he was five feet four (give or take an inch... in height), was the object of nearly universal hatred for much of his life, and had wicked heart burn. Heart burn is the last thing I need. And oh yeah-- he lost.

Then I briefly considered Genghis Khan. Secretly, I have always harbored a deep desire to smite quivering foes atop a grand white steed... but I'll never admit that. However, the idea of drinking fermented horse milk and travelling through the Russian steppes suddenly doesn't seem so glorious. I'm all for culinary experimentation, but hot sour milk? Fuck that. And the saddle rashes would be killer.

What about Einstein? To be worshipped as the most intelligent living being seems like a pretty cushy job to me.
I got a C+ in physics and besides, I don't speak enough German.

Finally, it hit me. And it was so obvious. I knew it all along.

David Bowie.

I would love to live David Bowie's life, for like, a year. I mean, the man could do basically anything that he wanted and be worshiped as a Rock God. Here's proof:

Exhibit A:
If I want mismatched pupils, then goddammit, I'll have mismatched pupils!

Exhibit B:
If I want to waft steel stress balls at recently drugged pre-teens, then goddammit, I'll waft steel stress balls at recently drugged pre-teens! (all while looking like Mr. Spock had a love child with Rod Stewart and Jack Sparrow)

And finally, Exhibit C:
Twenty years later, a few cosmetic dentistry appointments, a new slick modern wardrobe, and the man is still a Rock God! He can't go wrong. He does no wrong. He is the definition of freedom.

Case closed.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Paranoiacs Rejoice!

Dabbling on the Internet one quiet night, I stumbled upon a website that snatched my attention faster than Ralph Machio:

Apparently this website was featured on Oprah or something like that, giving me and most average Americans a sense of legitimacy. I mean, if the O likes John Edward, I like John Edward.

Once I opened the page, I literally laughed out loud. First, there is this sound that plays.
Open up the website.
Hear that?!
What the fuck is that sound? It's like something out of Aliens meets Windows XP. Attempting to extract meaning from this half second blip would be prove fruitless... but here goes nothing:
If you listen to the sound on headphones or with the speakers on your computer turned up way loud, you'll notice that the file lasts longer than the sound. After the sound dissipates, you can hear some static, indicating that the file lasts about twice as long. Why?
They intentionally wanted that ping to echo; To leave a lasting impression with you.
They wanted that ping to haunt you. Mission accomplished!

Alright, let's dismiss the sound for a moment. What the fuck is the deal with the picture?
The dude looks like a cross between Michael Jackson's Thriller and Steven Hawkings. And don't you just love their matching turtlenecks?

Here's my favorite part:
"It is estimated that between 90 and 93 percent of home computers have active spyware on them. Anyone who thinks they are not affected by spyware is kidding themselves. Even the most skilled professionals encounter spyware. The difference is that the professionals spend a significant amount of time keeping up with the latest ways to avoid, detect and remove these pests from computers.
When it comes to protecting your family from sex predators, using the sexual predator mapping tools is only the beginning. Remember these databases only tell you where the convicted and registered sexual offenders are located. There are many more out there that have never been convicted or are not registering. The Internet is becoming an all too common meeting place for predators and victims. When you cannot even see a face or hear a voice how are you going to recognize these vicious people?"

HA! Where was the fucking transition in that one!
"Let's abruptly change the subject of spyware and start scaring the fuck out of them."
"How can we do that?"
The two high level executives stare at each other for a moment.

This paragraph is absolutely insane. But, let's give these schmucks the benefit of the doubt. Ok Fear Tactic website, I'll play your game.
Let's click on the banner that says "Does a sexual predator live in your neighborhood?" (Oh dear, I'm sure no sex offenders live in my suburban white collar, homogenous community!) You know, the banner with the child on it with a superimposed tear?

Type in your zip code.

I have 1 registered sex offender in my neighborhood.
Well thanks for protecting me and my family! Let's avoid and scorn this fucker like the leper they are!

"To setup your access, we require a one time activation fee of $10.00."

Scam? Case closed.

ps. I wonder what would happen if I could find a place that has zero registered sex offenders? Maybe I win a pair of matching turtlenecks?