Friday, September 02, 2005
Martha Stewart is getting a new Apprentice-like show. When someone is voted off Stewart's island, the catchphrase is going to be "You don't fit in." This is easily the worst catchphrase in the history of reality television, and would only be effectively traumatic on a show about seventh grade girls. If a bad catchphrase is a requirement of the show, there are plenty of other lame ones they could have used, like "I'm going to tell the SEC about you" or "You get to wear big momma's ankle bracelet". I'm still working out the kinks in my own reality show before I present it to NBC (because they obviously need the Nielsen help the most), but I think the losers will be forced to pay me large sums of money and do work around my house. To soften the blow, they will get to make up one rule that the remaining Bri-landers have to follow, à la the card game, Asshole.Ice Breakers Cool Mint gum is interesting because it tastes different depending on what you ate beforehand. Normally, it sets your mouth a-tingle, like you were freebasing Listerine. Other times, it tastes just like Juicy Fruit.The first season of Roseanne was just released on DVD, a mere seventeen years after it started. The only thing I really remember about this show is that my sister and I watched it on Tuesdays while my parents sang in a choir, and we were supposed to put ourselves to bed as soon as it was over, or we were up too late. I seem to recall that it got really depressing a few years later because people kept dying, and I never watched it in high school. Didn't they win the lottery and get a divorce or something? And didn't they replace one of the sisters with an actress that looked nothing like the old one?When Roseanne aired in 1988, I was in fifth grade in Mr. Ferris' class, terrorizing the school with hooligans like Mike Buns, Aaron Ulm, and Daniel Bethancourt. Mr. Ferris made people write 250 word essays as punishment for talking out of turn. I only ever got one. I had Science class with Mrs. Anderson, who called my parents at one point, concerned about the direction my studies were taken. She thought I was a slacker because I missed class for band concerts, and abused the lab equipment (I would use the metal ball to draw pictures on the carbon paper rather than bounce the ball across the paper to record the distances on each bounce). Fifth grade was also the year they put all the fifth graders in a Talented and Gifted class with the smart sixth graders. It was taught by Mrs. Nicholson who, at that time, was the wife of the oceanography teacher at T.C. Williams. I sat next to, and fell head-over-heels for, a pretty sixth grader who played computer games (this was before girls were allowed to touch computers I think). This is the same girl I wrote the mushy love note to two years later (Continuity! )There are plenty of hurricane rants out there on the Internet so I will limit mine to a single fragment. I don't understand why over a quarter of the population chose to stay in the city -- unless you were incapable of mobility or a caretaker for the immobile, you should have gotten out that sinkhole of shame the first time they shouted "mandatory evacuation". People should still do what they can to help you, but you really are partially to blame. All the refugees in need of aid need to stop complaining about the inconsistency of incoming aid and realize that there's a reason we call them "disasters". By the same token, the federal government's response to the disaster should have been much better organized and less laughable. And as a closing thought, what the heck? Stuff like that makes me lose faith in the human race. They should raise money by fining celebrities who give their kids emotionally-scarring names. As if Apple Paltrow wasn't enough, we are now waiting for the birth of London Spears, because London is where she met her loving hillbilly husband.Someone found my site yesterday by Googling "midis from the french recording of les miserables". What the heck? A MIDI file has no lyrics. Why does it matter if it's in French? That's like printing Braille books in colour.One of the coolest toys from my childhood was the Etch-a-Sketch Animator. You could draw on the screen with knobs just like a normal Etch-a-Sketch, but the screen was LCD (not the 80s equivalent of OCD) so you could draw fourteen separate screens and then play them like a flip book. I was never very good at making up my own animations, but I drew that damn running cheetah in the instruction book a million times. It was the same with Legos though -- I was an expert at following directions but never made anything on my own -- probably because I was OCD about keeping the Lego sets orderly and never ever ever mixed pieces from different sets together. When I wanted to be an anarchist, I would go to my friend, James Houck's house because he kept all his Legos in a giant bin and threw the instructions away.Speaking of creativity in the 80s, Kim owns a real Lite Brite, in its original box and everything. My sister's old Lite Brite always ran out of construction paper, so we'd have to reuse old pieces. Your happy clown just isn't the same when he has bullet wounds and exploded zits of coloured light all over his face.This weekend, I'm going to do the housework which was rained out last weekend. There will also be Poker Night and Hokie Football. I'm not sure what I'm doing on Labor Day yet, but if I end up with no plans, I'll come to work and get a few hours in. To prevent this tragedy, please hang out with me. Also, make sure you root for the Hokies on Sunday, and pray that none of them get arrested for armed robbery, sleeping with minors, or driving around with crack pipes in the next two days.Have a good weekend! Only four days until Lost on DVD! Golden Gate Bridge closes for ostrich Pornography a higher priority than terrorism Bob Vanhorn covers his tracks. It was the gays!
Yesterday's search terms:
nintendo sheet music for tenor sax, disco inferno marching band, >10mb booty :wmv, diseased hamster pictures, college hunks hauling junk
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