Saturday, September 30, 2006

Ribbons More Inane than Me

As I was driving home last night I noticed, not for the first time, the proliferation of "Support the Troops!" ribbons on the back of cars and SUVs. I was going to post a rant about the fact that slapping a ribbon on your vehicle does not actually support anyone but the money-hungry opportunists that make the darn things and that it is almost guarenteed that the drivers of said vehicles went no further in their "support" than buying the stupid ribbons, but this video illustrates my point so much better. Props to www.bestweekever.tv who give props to boingboing for bringing this one to my attention.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Other Drivers = Jerkwads

For the purpose of this post, you may substitute any instance of the word “driver” with “jerkwad” or your expletive of choice.

I don’t know what contributes to my aggressive driving. Is it what I learned from my dad’s driving growing up? I still remember the time he was going to “turn over a new leaf” after receiving a ticket. That lasted all of a week. Is it just an extension of my impatient nature? I don’t appear to have a short temper. Most of the time I just get quiet when I’m mad, so it’s not obvious unless you’re paying attention. Is it my six years of driving in Virginia? If a light changes to green and the driver in front of you doesn’t move within one to two seconds, it is a common courtesy to lay on your horn until they driver goes. I suppose it doesn’t really matter where it comes from, the end result is that I hate all other cars on the road.

Don’t get me wrong, I think that every driver has the right to be on the road just as much as me. It’s just that they should not exercise that right when I’m driving. That’s right, if I’m on the road, all the other drivers should be off. If only I was that important.

It’s that attitude that causes me to daydream about creative ways to reduce frustration on the road. A few years ago I saw a comedian that wondered what it would be like if everyone’s license plate was also their cell phone number. I can think of a few choice words I’d have to say to the drivers that fail to notice me as they merge blithely into my lane.

Remember that old school game where you’d whisper something into a neighbor’s ear and tell them to “pass it on?” The physical variant involved punching your neighbor’s shoulder as hard as you could before telling them to share the wealth. Ah, youth.

I was stuck behind an annoyingly slow line of cars on the way home from shopping with Stacy last night. We knew traffic would be bad with the rain and rush hour, so we postponed it for a bit by spending some time at the mall. Apparently, we didn’t postpone long enough. As I was driving 10 miles under the speed limit in the left lane, I could see the driver in front of the pack just poking along. I thought back to that comedian and the old school game. How great would it be to call your fellow frustrated motorist in front of you and give him or her a sweet, polite, expletive-filled message to pass on? I imagine it would get pretty creative by the time it reached the driver at the front of the pack.

Who are these people that don’t follow the speed limits, anyway? What are their motives? What reason could someone have to slow down miles of traffic by going well under the speed limit in the fast lane? Are they completely unaware of the frustration they cause in other people? Is it a good thing I don’t have a gun in my car? I can only answer one of those questions, but the answer depends on how you’re driving when you’re on the road with me.

Completely Unrelated Dept.

Man with 10-year erection may not get his cash

PROVIDENCE, R.I. - A former handyman from North Providence who won more than $400,000 in a lawsuit over a malfunctioning penile implant may not get the money after a judge dismissed his claim.

Click here to read more.

I just had to share that to make a point. “10 Year Erection” would make a great name for a band.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Dr. Henry Killinger’s Magic Murder Bag OR I Know Why the Caged Bird Kills

Dr. Henry Killinger’s Magic Murder Bag OR I Know Why the Caged Bird Kills!

I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, I love Venture Brothers. Tonight’s episode was another phenomenal send up. First, we’re treated to The Monarch’s ultra-violent entrance into the lair of…his accountant. It looks like prison has hardened the pansiest villain in the guild. We also got to see Rusty’s long-anticipated reunion with Hank and Dean’s mom courtesy of a matchmaking Japanese demon. This puts to rest the theory that the boys were conceived and born in the lab once and for all. It also introduces a delightfully insane character that I hope will reappear in the future. Considering Rusty’s lack of action, I’m not completely sure why he doesn’t hook back up with her, crazyhead and all. Speaking of reunions, the oni’s counterpart, Dr. Henry Killinger not only rocked The Monarch’s cocoon (not nearly as nasty as it sounds,) but he reunited Monarch and Dr. Girlfriend. Now that the guy that writes way-too-specific poems about butterflies and the chick with the way-too-masculine voice are back together, the cosmos are once more at peace. Some good lines?

Brock: Jock rock my ass! Listen to those lyrics, man It’s all about love and
longing-
H.E.L.P.er: Meep meep beep meep
Brock: Yes, and hobbits, too.

Rusty: You uh, you want to go halfsies on a skin flick?
Orpheus: …kaaaay.

Dean: How come we don’t remember her then?
Brock: You don’t remember because you’re clon…clooo…cl…cl
Rusty: Clo…clo…clo…whoops!
Hank: I can’t help feeling like we’re just not getting the whole story here, you know?
Dean: Right? Maybe she was telling the truth.
Rusty: Alright, so I [BEEP]ed her. What of it?
The visual gags were even better. I love Venture Brothers! Oh, and before I forget, Dr. Henry Killinger’s Magic Murder Bag would make an excellent name for a rock band.