Monthly Archives: November 2011

The Old Man and the iPod

I’ve heard this story and its numerous variant forms over the years—and actually experienced it through a friend and his grandfather this morning.

It goes a little something like this:

Grandfather’s record player finally bites the dust. Grandson shows him his iPod, offers to buy Grandfather one of his own. After listening to Grandson’s iPod for a few minutes, Grandfather declines, saying that MP3s sound too “cold and mechanical.” Grandson ponders this for a while before re-syncing his playlist to include nothing but jazz and big band. On listening to the iPod a 2nd time, Grandfather is sold. Turns out Grandson’s original playlist had been nothing but electronica, dance, techno—Grandfather had assumed digital music players could only play music that sounded “digital.”

The lesson here: always keep a few “analog” tracks on your MP3 player. You never know when your grandparents’ vinyl might go bad. ;)

The Justin Bieber Inappropriateness Checklist

Justin Bieber - Yeater Motivational Poster

(Mariah Yeater—Google her. Or don’t.)

  • There are people on this Earth who refer to themselves as “Beliebers.”
  • In “The Ring” episode of South Park, you could replace the Jonas Brothers with Justin Bieber and tell the exact same story.
  • Product on the verge of existence: The Just-in-Time Morning After Pill.
  • Pop-up ads that ask if Justin Bieber has a crush on me.
  • Justin Meat (it’s not what you think—or maybe it is, depending on your level of pervertitude).
  • Product on the verge of existence: “Bieber Juice” brand juice boxes.
  • The fact that Mariah Yeater is trying to convince the world she slept with a 16-year-old boy.
  • Pop-up ads that ask if I’m the father of Justin Bieber’s baby.

Do you have anything to add to the list? Comment below.

Cake, LOLCats, and an Infographic

Alan Travers has posted a neato stop-motion video of how to make chocolate biscuit cake.

My girlfriend Dee joked that she has made her legendary chocolate biscuit cake so many times now that the ingredients could make it by themselves…

The video is, appropriately, titled, “Stop-Motion Biscuit Cake,” though I daresay “Battling the Munchies—as Seen Through the Eyes of a Stoner” would’ve been cooler. Because, and let’s be honest here, who among us hasn’t at least once watched an entire cake make itself before our very eyes after we’ve…er, inhaled?

LOLCats

You can’t eat them (not legally, anyway), but these 10 felines are super-cute anyway:

LOLcat - I is turkey

(Via Geekosystem.)

And finally, did you know that the largest pumpkin pie ever baked contained 300 pounds of sugar? Or that it took a dozen underweight supermodels two years, six months, and twenty-seven days to consume the entire thing? Okay, I made that one up. Not made up: the ridiculous number of eggs used in the recipe (see infographic below).

Thanksgiving Infographic

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to loosen my pants by cutting an extra notch in my belt. Happy Thanksgiving. ;)

What are you thankful for this year?

Cloud Island

Cloud Island

Welcome to Cloud Island—aka, “that comb-over isn’t fooling anyone:”

http://www.flickr.com/photos/spumador/5943053061/in/set-72157627208281344/

Great photo by Spumador. Coincidentally, I suddenly have an intense blood-lust for riding cute, green dinosaurs and snatching gold coins out of the air.

Witty caption runners-up:

  • “Can you tell it’s a comb-over?”
  • “…and if you look to your right, you’ll see Litla Dimun, home of the world’s largest cotton candy factory.”
  • “This year’s Chain Smoker’s Convention is being held on Litla Dimun.”
  • “Cloud fucks small island—film at eleven.”
  • “Honey, I think I left the stove on.”

Think you can beat my effing awesome captions? Post yours below. ;)

The Quest to Save Theo’s Spunk…

New SuperMegaNet episode posted. Here’s an excerpt (non-fans of Theo’s rich, potent spunk need not bother clicking through):

I glance around the bedroom. Mrs. Goodale’s mutant tirade attack has left the place a barren wasteland. Where once there were posters on the walls, there are now only dust outlines, remnants of Scotch tape; the shag carpeting is intact, but is wilted, like a once-mighty lawn of grass that’s gone for too long between waterings; the desk…well, let’s just say the 1970s called, and they want their pre-Commodore era panel desk back.

Ernie coughs loudly, clears his throat. He sounds like he’s catching a cold. “So…am I having a hunger hallucination or something?”

“Probably,” I say. “But that’s a good thing at the moment. It’s left you more open to the state of perceptive flux in which I exist.”