winneroftheSAT

I am Under No Obligation to Explain Why There Are so Many Cuts and Bruises On My Face

2005-12-09T15:46:00.000-05:00

Look, I'm just trying to do my job here. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to collating the invoices you had asked me to sort three days ago.

I have no obligation to explain to you how this cauliflower ear developed, where these bandages on my head came from, or why it looks like I was stabbed repeatedly in the face.

The fact is, it's none of your business how my skull was fractured or why I have eyeballs painted onto my eyelids because I can't open my eyes and I'm trying to look normal.

Was I drunk?? How dare you! Get out of my cubicle! I don't have time to tell you about the minutiae that goes of my life. If I don't have these documents stapled by 5 o'clock, the office manager is going to be pissed.

Stop asking me! Do I ask you the same stupid question 50 million times a day??? I can't work like this!!!

Nintendogs DOES NOT Fill the Void Inside

2005-11-09T14:42:00.000-05:00

I thought to myself, "This will surely fill the void inside me," as I waited in line to purchase Nintendogs for the GameBoy DS at Nintendo World in Rockefeller Center.

I raced home and powered up the game. I decided to select a beautiful Beagle named Buster as the dog I would raise.

I brought him back home, and gently stroked him with the stylus. I felt a strong connection almost immediately--a bond that I knew instinctively, would span the annals of eternity. This dog is what I've been waiting my whole life for.

"There, there, Buster," I said assuredly. I leaned closer, and spoke into the system's microphone, "As your trainer, I pledge to you that together, we will overcome impossible odds. We will find truth where there is only falseness, meaning within the most unintelligible of sentences, and bring rays of piercing light to places where sun don't shine."

A red question mark appeared above Buster's head. He sat there and stared at me.

"My dearest friend, perhaps you didn't understand me, I pledge..." and I repeated my urgent message, emboldened by this puppy's thirst to drink from my deep well of knowledge. I continued raving into the mic using impassioned phrases and quotes from our nation's greatest leaders.

The red question mark appeared again above the dog's head. He retreated to the other side of our house and began licking himself.

"Buster, was I boring you?"

He raced back to the front of the screen, "Arf arf!"

"I see. Are you saying you don't agree with my ideals?

"Arf arf!"

"You don't want to share your life with me?"

"Arf arf!"

"And by this you mean you wish you'd never been brought into this virtual world?"

"Arf arf arf!!!!"

I let out a primal howl. "Oh God! Why do you torture me so!" With a trembling hand I ripped the game out of the system and threw it at a nearby wall.

A Closer Look At The World Around Us: An HP LaserJet Printer Box

2005-10-18T12:35:00.000-04:00

HOW MANY DICKS DID THIS WOMAN HAVE TO SUCK TO GET ON THE COVER OF AN HP PRINTER BOX?! WHY IS SHE HERE?! DID SHE INVENT THE LASERJET PRINTER?! DID SHE HAVE ANY IDEA SOMEONE WAS TAKING HER PICTURE?!

An Incident with the Poseurs of Park Slope - Finale

2005-10-10T15:30:00.000-04:00

Part 1

As the 80's skater poseurs and the urban subversion poseurs surrounded Brady and I--all of whom were hooting, hollering, and whipping heavy chains in the air--one thought went through my mind.

I wonder if they'd take me shopping with them next time? I need some new duds.

The 10 year old hipster continued his verbal assault on their lack of leadership skills.

"Fuck you, poseurs! You need to learn how to stop being poseurs!"

"How we gonna do that, snoop doggy dogg hogg and frog?" replied one of the urban subversion poseurs with an extraneously long skull cap that went down to his ankles. He whipped his heavy chain at Brady's empty cup of Dippin' Dots. He missed by a few feet and almost struck a feral Park Slope baby. The baby scamped away.

"My friend Nate will show you how!!" declared Brady.

"Oh, no, don't get me involved," I said aghast, as I fumbled in my pocket for my pepper spray keychain. Perhaps if I shoot Brady in the face with an aqueous burst of concentrated cayenne powder, he will be unable to drag me into this beating we are about to receive.

Brady continued, "He won the SAT. He's a gifted genius—the REAL DEAL. Totally not a poseur! Show 'em, Nate. Show 'em all you know!"

He has a point.

"Come on, smarty pants! Why don't you show us how to be cool, Mr. Cool?" ranted a voice from the incensed crowd.

"Fine." I waved my hand like a wand across the rabid maniacs. "First, you must put down your bags of Fritos."

"What are we gonna eat?" a skater howled, "He's trying to starve us!"

"Next, you must stop talking about your Fantasy Football teams."

"But... but!" they all whimpered in unison.

"And finally. You must all take up jelqing--the all natural male enhancement."

I performed a demonstration on jelqing before the transfixed audience.

*CLUNK*

*CLUNK CLUNK*

*POOP*

One by one, the heavy chains the poseurs were going to maim us with, dropped to the pavement. The stunned, silenced mob began to disperse. The crises was diffused!

"I did it! I did it! I stopped the angry mob," I yelled out. "High five! Brady, give me a high five. Where'd you go. Hey! Where's everybody going?" I pulled up my pants, "Hey, wait for me! You all think I'm cool, right? Guys???"

Attention Human Resources! I Could Totally Be the White Guy in Your Next Multi-Ethnic Advertising Campaign

2005-09-19T01:42:00.000-04:00

Attention Human Resources!

Are you seeking a bold and dynamic white man for your next multi-ethnic advertising campaign? Your search is over, child.

My skin tone and average looks will blandly compliment the skin tones and average looks of people from all races: Native Indians, Orientals, Hasidics, Latinos, Lezzies--even Black People!

But you're probably thinking, "I wonder how this white guy will take next to a retard or some cripple?" I beg you to stick me next to a retard--gosh! that would be a dream come true!--and you'll see exactly what I'm capable of!

Advertising executives choose me to be their token white guy because I emote a commercial vibe that says to white people, "Now that's a white man I could probably trust--maybe. But not with my kids," and I appeal to non-whites in a way that screams, "Ooooohhhhhh!!! I HATE WHITE PEOPLE!!!! HOW CAN I DEFACE THIS?!?!?!" All races can connect and react to me.

Sir or madam, enclosed is my modeling portfolio. I implore you to peruse my high resolution photos and choose me for your next multi-ethnic advertising campaign. Blanket my nonthreatening averageness across this great city!

When you need to make the WHITE choice, make the RIGHT choice!

Very Truly Yours,

Nate

Back row, left

Far right, wearing wig. This ad was for sex toys.

I really do look good next to someone in a wheelchair.

Pictured extreme left; The C stands for Caucasian.

I didn't get placed in this one.

I'm also a hand model.

God Damn It! My $200 Faux Distressed Jeans Have Developed Actual Distress!

2005-09-09T14:02:00.000-04:00

I'm so furious! I'm filled with rage! GRRRR! I spent 200 dollars on a pair of distressed designer jeans--and look at what happens! See--right next to the fake rips are ACTUAL rips. I've only washed them a couple times and they're totally falling apart.

The aloof salesperson at Bloomie's assured me the denim I was purchasing came from the earth's most endangered strains of cotton. The holes were laboriously placed using technological breakthroughs pioneered by Guatemalans making 8 cents per hour. I spent so much money on them! Gosh, the actual tears in my pants make it look like I've been wearing shitty jeans I'd wear to a motorcycle parade, not awesome distressed designer jeans I'd wear to go clubbing.

An example of distress I paid for:

An example of distress I did not pay for:

The HOTTEST Hurricane Names Have Stormed This Way!

2005-09-01T12:41:00.000-04:00

Thank you for all your letters and emails wondering where I've been. I was in New Orleans on vacation, when all of a sudden, an enormous hurricane came and washed me out to sea! Just kidding! ROFL LMAO! I've been here the whole time. But, I have been doing extensive research to find out this season's HOTTEST hurricane names and I published them over at HOTTEST BABY NAMES. If you don't know what to name your next hurricane, this is the ONLY guide you'll ever need!

HOTTEST Hurricane Names for September of '05

The Known World: A Slavery Thrillride!

2005-08-24T11:32:00.000-04:00

Get the fuck outta the way Mrs. Beecher-Stowe! I've been reading The Known World, and I can enthusiastically say, it is THE MOST THRILLING SLAVERY NOVEL EVER WRITTEN.

If you love slavery novels like I do, The Known World is a surefire hit. If this doesn't ramrod right to #1 on your personal Top 10 Slavery Faves of All Time, then your slavery palate is clearly underdeveloped. Maybe you need to enroll in Slavery 101.

If you lapped up the urbane comic genius of Letters of the Late Ignatius Sancho, an African and you devoured the explosive who-done-it mystery, Second Daughter, Story of a Slave Girl, then I just know this Pulitzer Prize winning slavery blockbuster, The Known World, will grip you by the balls and never let go!

I'm only 40 pages or so into it, but already, I can just tell. This exhilarating portrait of antebellum 1850's slavery is going to leave me completely sated. My love for slavery fiction is almost as limitless as my need for water or oxygen.

Run to your nearest slavery-themed bookseller for this chart topping page-turner!

Top Excercises to Do At your Next Strollercize Class

2005-08-18T15:30:00.000-04:00

Everyone in New York is saying that Strollercizing is the new Tae-Bo! Anyone can do it. All you need is a baby and a high-end stroller and the will and determination to turn all that fat on your body into lean, hard muscle mass. Try out these new strollercizes to spice up your routine.

Baby Calf Raises – Gently step on your baby using just the tips of your toes. Slowly raise—stretch those calves girl! And repeat.

Stroller Windsprint – Pick two points about 50 yards apart, like a tree and a nearby edge of a cliff. Strap your infant in tightly so he doesn’t get hurt. Then, challenge a fellow strollercizer to race to the edge of the cliff. The first one to go hurtling over wins!

Baby Jumping Jacks – Take two babies, attaching one to each hand with heavy duty twine so the baby stays in one place. Begin jumping and overhand clapping like you’re at a Bon Jovi concert. Do 3 sets of 10. Feel the burn.

Stroller Hurls – Imagine you’re an Olympic discus thrower. Clutch the baby-occupied stroller, spin for added power and acceleration, use that powerful stretch-marked torso and release!

Diaper Cardio Kickboxing – Affix your baby’s soiled diapers to your fists. Grab a partner. Take turns punching each other in the face. Push it to the max!

Remember to wipe down your baby using clean towels after your workout!

What exercises do you do at your Strollercize class?

An Incident with the Poseurs of Park Slope - Part 1

2005-08-11T12:57:00.000-04:00

I've recently become friends with Brady, the 10 year old hipster who lives on the first floor of my building. We like having intellectual debates over whether or not Clap Your Hands Say Yeah is over already and whether everything I touch turns to shit (which he reminds me ALL THE TIME). He's such a kidder!

Anyways, we are people watching and eating Dippin' Dots--the ice cream of the future--on the stoop of our brownstone when he announces, "Poseur alert!"

"Where?" I shout, craning my neck.

"Over THERE--look at those fucken poseurs," and Brady directs my attention to a gang of suburban white dudes in skull caps across the street. One is drinking 7-Up. One is beckoning another, "Dawg, you gotta listen to my new ringtone—it’s a Top 40 hit on the Billboard Charts right now!" All are decked out in gear from the sales racks of a Midwestern store called Value City.

"THOSE aren't poseurs," I say to my little friend, dismissing his claims. "No no no. These guys over HERE are poseurs!" I point to a nearby syndicate of 35 year old skaters taking turns grinding off the bumper of an abandoned Ford Bronco. They each have asymmetrical hair bangs covering one of their eyes and all are dressed in Pretty Boy Floyd jean jackets. Before each grind attempt, their video camera operator gleefully goes, "Skate or die, dude! Skate or dieeeeee!" Then they try to ollie onto the Bronco and fall down.

"Hey you dirtbag gaywad poseurs!" Brady hollers. All the poseurs stop what they are doing and glare at us. I try to cover Brady's mouth with his cup of Dippin' Dots. What is he thinking? He's going to get us killed!

"How does it feel to be fuckin poseurs?" he continues, in between gulps of the Dots.

The poseurs from the '80s and the urban subversion poseurs filter into a poser posse and begin pressing towards us!

To be continued!

An Open Challenge to Chuck "The Iceman" Liddell

2005-08-09T13:55:00.000-04:00

Hey "Up"-Chuck Liddell! hahaHAha. I'm challenging YOU! Spike TV has been showing your Ultimate Fighting matches and I've been learning your every move, studying your every sweaty and glistening weakness. I'm totally challenging you publicly right now.

We're not going to play by your rules, Chuck Liddell. You're about to enter my house--THE BLOGTAGON! Prepare to die!!1

Here's how it works:
--First, we sit at keyboards.
--Then, we start publishing splenetic and acrimonious things with those keyboards about current trends like, "Hamsters--they're so lame!" or "Arab people are the new black people!"
--Next, we compulsively refresh our sitemeter stats over and over, peering like bog wraiths into our LCD monitors, straining our eyeballs until our sight is gone forever.
--Then, we click on links that other bloggers give us. We do that until our wrists are ravaged with carpal tunnel and our fingers are paralyzed with rheumatism.
--Finally, we respond emptily to some reader' emails and go to sleep.
--We shall do it again every day until one of us drops dead.

I have been training for over a year. Will you accept, Chuck Liddell??

What do you think, CEOs?: Old Navy Launches New Skin Care Line

2005-08-03T17:11:00.000-04:00

It was reported that Old Navy is coming out with a line of personal skin care products. Other blogs would go to pedestrian walkways to interview laymen for the buzz on a topic this hot. However, I go straight to The Street and into the chambers of the nation’s most powerful CEOs.

Tom Shiluley, CEO of Kleenex Inc. states:
Before becoming the CEO of Kleenex, I was a VP at Yugo automobiles. Our motto there was, “Let’s polish this turd!” It seems our optimism has spread to other corporations!

Denise Carter, CEO of Bounty Paper Towel Rolls LTD says:
This is fantastic news. When I’m on a 1st date with a man at his apartment and I'm unzipping his pants, the last thing I want is to suddenly find out I’m effing someone who wears Old Navy underwear. Now, after he’s done fingering me, but before I’ve rocked his penis, I can excuse myself to use the bathroom and root through his medicine cabinet for Old Navy skin care products. This way, I know up front if I should be bullish or bearish.

Elliot Anderson, CEO of the Brawn Napkin Co. added:
My daughter begged me, "Please Daddy, please! Take me to Old Navy." I knew what I had to do. I implicated her in an interglobal accounting fraud scandal and now she's serving the next 8 years in juvie. That should straighten her out.

Marty Fabrizio, CEO of Sam's Choice Bath Tissue LLC underscores:
I used to think the two most embarrassing things in the world are being seen flying coach on The Concorde and being spotted carrying a shopping bag from Old Navy. The Concorde hasn't flown since October of 2003, which makes by default, YOU GUESSED IT, carrying a shopping bag from Old Navy the most embarrassing thing in the world.

Interactive Games Week! - Decide What I Should Keep In My Refrigerator

2005-07-27T11:09:00.000-04:00

Interactive Games Week continues, and I need your input now more than ever! I'm thinking of making Debbie clean out our refrigerator and I was wondering if the internet community can help. What should I throw out? Which items would you keep?!

I can't put Jemima out on the street. She's got nieces and nephews to take care of.

Snowball fight!

I'd throw out this enormous pan filled with cooking oil, but I heard you're not supposed to dump oil down the drain.

These condiments make any food taste yummy!

Expired documents.

Interactive Games Week!: Guess the Fluid That is In My Mouth

2005-07-26T00:16:00.000-04:00

It's that time of the year again! Spray it with me now! Interactive Games Week! Aiieeeeee!

The first game we're going to play is "Guess the Fluid That is In My Mouth!" It's easy. I'm going to squirt a fluid into my mouth and you all have to guess what it is. I'll give you clues to figure it out. The first person to get the right answer in the comments section wins! Here is an example.

The fluid is thick.

The fluid is yellowish-white.

The fluid packs a lot of protein.

The fluid is best when ingested in the steam room at the David Barton gym, after a long, hard delts & traps workout.

The fluid is something you might spurt all over your partner's compliant chest during sexual intercourse.

The fluid is... BANANA NUTRAMENT!

See--that was simple. Any bi-curious bodybuilding toddler could have gotten that. Now this next one is for real. You'll never get it!! I'm going to put a fluid in my mouth, RIGHT NOW, in real time!

Ready??

The fluid is burning my mouth.

The fluid is something that is commonly used to make cars go.

The fluid is seriously damaging the sensitive tissues of my hard palate.

The fluid is making me high.

The fluid is Oh god, oh god, why did i put this corrosive liquid into my oral cavity?! I'm weaving in and out of consciousness. Someone help me... please. Call for help. This was the worst idea of all time...*gurgle gurgle*

Guess... the Fluid... that is *gulp*...oh no!

Would You Rather...?

2005-07-20T11:31:00.000-04:00

I just bought that awesome game "Would You Rather?" so when I have parties, they will be memorable. I was a little turned off by some of the questions though!

Would you rather...
Go to Barnes & Noble to buy a delightful book, like Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince?
or
Go to Barnes & Noble and get called a fag by teenagers because you’re pretending to read books in the Gay & Lesbian section, wearing nothing but spandex bike shorts and nipple clamps?

Would you rather...
Bake a scrumptious apple pie and set it on the window sill?
or
Unlatch the air conditioner from the window sill and let it fall 4 stories onto a litter of mewing newborn kittens?

Would you rather...
Snuggle up with a loved one in front of the glow of the fireplace?
or
Seal up an open fire hydrant that children are playing in and yell, “Listen up, Accutane babies! It’s just running water! You’re all shrieking and giggling. It’s not that innovative.” As the feral kids begin throwing stones at your head, you run away crying, “I wish I was never born!”?

Would you rather...
Learn how to crochet and knit?
or
Learn how to examine your crotch for nits?

Would you rather...
Read a blog that our nation adores, like Dooce?
or
Suggest that our nation spend less time reading Dooce and more time masking their pungent feminine odors with FDS spray?

Would you rather...
Grab a bowl of popcorn with the family and watch the quality television programming shown on T.G.I.F.?
or
Shatter a ceramic bowl of spring greens against a wall because your lover feels nothing for you anymore and watch as the tears slowly drizzle down your face in perfect syncopation with the raspberry vinaigrette dripping down the plaster?

10 Things You can say to the Counter Help at Duane Reade to Make Him or Her Rail You

2005-07-14T14:40:00.000-04:00

1. "Do you know where the Magnum XL condom section is? My dick is enormous."

2. "I'm buying this home pregnancy kit for you! I want to give you a child. I'm totally serious."

3. While holding two canisters of protein powder, "Say--which way is the beach? Oh, I'll answer. It's THAT way." And then point, flex, and chuckle.

4. "These aren't my AIDS meds. I'm picking them up for a friend—er... a non-profit clinic I volunteer at! Yeah, that’s it. It's tough working there, but with God's strength, I persevere. Oh, you have AIDS too? Great! I mean... you should stop by the clinic."

5. "Gosh, I fucking hate everything about this fucking shithole. But, looking at your face makes my time here slightly less fucking shitty. Oh man, who am I kidding?"

6. "Dang, What I wouldn't give to get under that shapeless blue smock and turn that bored zombified look on your face into a smile."

7. "I have a gun. Everyone just be cool and give me all the money in the register and sleep with me."

8. "Could I get a price check on these?" Grab their boobs.

9. "I'm going to be bored at home ALL ALONE now that my boyfriend who works the cash till at Walgreens dumped me."

10. "Thy tresses of hair that dangle from thee head, its length compares to this long line. More beautifying than the Cetaphil I'm holding, tis your feminine mystique. Yee, forsooth! My mind exalts, my spirit yearns to embolden thy vessel. Come with, let us flee into the night, away to yonder, from this inhumanity, where we shall subsist only on each others' breath, passion, and truth."

Yard Sale! - The Finale

2005-07-12T14:25:00.000-04:00

Previously

Sitting Indian style on the floor, I glared at Debbie from across the barren studio apartment and my eyes pierced her like a belly button. Ever since she was hospitalized and treated for mild brain damage, she hasn't been the same.

"I demand answers!" I shouted as I pounded my balled up fist on the rugless hardwood.

"You haven't asked a question yet," Debbie volleyed.

"Why did you sell all my stuff for a handful of change and then blow all that change on tampons?"

"Um... my menses?" Debbie responded. No remorse.

"Debbie, I--just... I just. I just don't understand you." I put my head in my palms, "There is so much in this world that I DO understand, like SAT questions, for example."

Debbie sighed. "Look Nate, I wanted to keep what I'm about to tell you a secret, but I guess I've gotta come clean."

"I don't care if you're a hardcore butch lesbian who spends her days thinking about labias and her nights dreaming of tight punanis. Beneath that burqa, you are still probably the same person I've always casually known and disliked, Debbie. "

"I'm not a lesbian."

"Oh."

"I cleared out all of your stuff," she continued.

"Go on," I beckoned.

"Because..." she lingered.

"Yes???" I swallowed.

"I..." she tiptoed.

"Tell me!!!!!!!" I yelled.

"I needed space for a litterbox."

It's My Blogday!

2005-07-07T13:36:00.000-04:00

It's my blogday!!!

That's right. One year of blogging. It seems like just yesterday...

--That I told you what it was like growing up with post-op parents.

--That we celebrated Ranch Dressing Heritage Week.

--That I threatened to publicly execute my roommate's cat, Oasis.

--When I put all those new-school SAT Winners in their places.

--That I began talking about the ill-fated yard sale I held.

Ah... mammaries.

To celebrate this amazing year in our lives, I will be on display this Friday--tomorrow--at Grassroots Tavern on St. Marks in the East Village sometime around 8PM. Come and say hello and buy me 17 drinks.

Everyone is invited EXCEPT for my roommate Debbie. She makes people feel horribly uncomfortable in public situations.

Birthday Party!

2005-07-05T15:46:00.000-04:00

In commemoration of the inception of winnerofthesat.blogspot.com, I'm throwing myself a birthday party this Friday, July 9th!! KEEP THE DATE. I haven't decided yet where to have it, but any suggestions are welcome.

Oh, and just so I'm not surprised by the quality of horrible gifts you're likely to buy me, I opened up a gift registry at my favorite store--WalMart. You can view it here! Please share my registry and upcoming party details with other bloggers who have cash.

Can you believe it's been a whole year since we've gotten to know each other?

Other Things Electronic Arts has Landed the Exclusive Rights To

2005-06-30T11:20:00.000-04:00

No one likes competing for things--especially the world's largest software developer, Electronic Arts. In addition to their industry shocking multi-billion dollar exclusive acquisition of the NFL license, they've recently secured the exclusive rights to the NHL too. Soon, all sports games will be made by the same gaywad company. This is fantastic news! Drunk on its own power, I've found that Electronic Arts has been buying up and hording all sorts of things:

--My anus
--Your anus
--All the poop that comes out of your anus
--Exclusive fingerbanging rights to your girlfriend
--Terri Schiavo's cremated remains
--The movie option to the tragic demise of my former landlady
--A summer share on the Jersey Shore
--One Crunch Wrap Supreme from Taco Bell.
--8 Minute Abs
--Lots and lots of roofies
--Chapelle Show Season 3, for private viewing only.
--A black dildo factory
--The Dollar General dollar store chain so EA can vertically integrate a nationwide dumping ground for all their sporting titles once a new year comes out.

Another Parade Disaster

2005-06-27T14:13:00.000-04:00

Man! I get some really fucked up parade information. Yesterday wasn't the 4th of July Parade!! I spent hours in the morning caking on Uncle Sam make-up and BeDazzle-ing turquoise rhinestones into my red, white, and blue patriot landsuit to celebrate the birth of our nation. I get to the parade line-up at 50th Street in Manhattan and was completely dumbfounded as to why no one else was wearing our country's colors.

I got up on my stilts and surveyed the queer assemblage of a crowd before marching down the street.

"You don't look anything like lovers of America! You look like lovers of same-sex genitals!!" I pointed and laughed at the nearby dudes in thongs and rollerblades. "These colors don't burn!!" I chanted to the parade watchers.

"Whatever, Mary!" snarled a fabulous looking drag queen, as she kicked out my right leg. "This is the gay pride parade, you freak!"

"Whoa-a-whoa-a-whoa!!" I yelped as my stilts went in opposite directions.

RRRRRIIIIPPP!

The crowd cheered as I did the splits all the way to the ground. Could this be any more embarrassing? Yes! My pants had the biggest rip right down the middle of my crotch! The tear was so gaping and far-reaching, my pants AND boxers were literally divided into two. As I stood back up on the stilts, the waist of my pants peeled away to the sides like a banana peel, revealing my manhood to all of New York City and its rabid, undulating gays. The crowd cheered again.

What's worse was I couldn't get off the parade route. All the sidewalks were barricaded! While covering my face and my dingle, I stilt walked as fast as I could the remaining 50 blocks and escaped to a nearby subway station.

Mortifying! To think, this is practically a repeat of what happened to me on St. Patrick's Day, too. I should learn my lesson and just stay home.

Run for Your Lives!

2005-06-22T16:26:00.000-04:00

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20050622/ap_on_fe_st/popsicle_disaster

I knew immediately after reading that Snapple was attempting to set the record for the world's largest popsicle, that I simply must bare witness when they hoisted the 17 ton ice phallus in the center of Union Square. After work yesterday, I sauntered leisurely over to the scene where a swarm of Union Squarians had circled ravenously around the popsicle to partake in the viewing. It was such a hot and beautiful Summer day, what could possibly go wrong?

A crane baring the Snapple logo, began moving towards the 25' thing resting on a truck. Something was not right. The confection was unstable. The crane operator started shouting. Production assistants on headsets were panicking. The popsicle glistened ominously. And then, the UNTHINKABLE happened.

**crackle, crrraCKLE**

The popsicle was melting!

**WHOOOOOSH**

"GaAAAAAHHHHhhhhhh!!!" I screamed. "Run! Everybody run!!!" Children were shrieking, parents were crying. I started pushing people to higher ground. "Get out of here!" The icee gushed and the first wave of Snapple swathed violently over bystanders. The frozen treat was melting faster than anyone expected and a HUGE 2nd wave crashed, knocking the elderly to the street. In my periphery, I saw a helpless infant get picked up in the swirling, murderous Kiwi-Strawberry goo-current.

"Somebody help that helpless infant!" a homeless skateboarder beckoned.

"My baby! My helpless baby!!" the mother of the child rallied.

"There's no time!!!" I recoiled.

And then the baby was swept down a storm drain.

As I write this, I shudder to think how many other families had their lives ruined by Snapple on this black day in history. God help us all.

I Much Prefer Times Square to Union Square
To visit the Pringles Flagship store!
To see Mariah Carey!
To go to Red Lobster!
To get hit by a bus!

Congratulations College Graduates!

2005-06-20T11:50:00.000-04:00

Congratulations college graduates! To my Spanish readers, Feliz Navidad college graduates! To the Germans, Glückwünsche!

Could I have said those words had I myself not graduated from college? Never.

Let me share with you the pride I feel when I stare at the diploma above my workdesk. The diploma above my workdesk is something I can feel proud of. It tells me who I am, how many bad decisions I've made, and where I’m about to go. It says to executives and other passersby, "This guy isn't no stupid idiot. He has a degree. With someone else’s name on it. From a fake school, most likely. Certainly, printed off his computer using ancient Print Shop publishing software and a dot matrix ImageWriter II."

A college diploma is your passport to success. It's something you can take with you to job interviews. Upon meeting potential employers at that crucial first interview, it is common practice to shake hands with your right hand and transfer your degree with your left. Keep your icy, menacing eyes locked on the interviewer. Allow him or her to feel, in complete silence, the gravitas of the moment and the history behind that degree.

Ah... as I look up at the diploma above my workdesk, smug self-satisfaction washes over me. Everyone said I couldn't do it. But I did it. Look where I am today. I'm living paycheck to paycheck in New York City and I'm the 2nd Assistant to the Vice President of Consumer Affairs' Assistant at Burning Bridges Greetings in charge of ordering binder clips for all of our North American offices. I could never have made it ALL THIS WAY without a college degree and the advantages known as white privilege.

Congratulations college graduates! I look forward to welcoming you to the workforce someday.

What Did You Do with My Wiener?

2005-06-15T12:20:00.000-04:00

"Where is it? My wiener was just here a few minutes ago and now it's gone! Debbie, did you touch my thick wiener?"

"No. Good God no," Debbie replied while jerking meat in an electric food dehydrator.

"Then where could it possibly be?" I reached for Debbie's buns. They were soft and supple.

"Beats me."

"Awful. This is just terrible. How are we going to have a festive patio BBQ without wieners? Should we just use sausage instead?"

"Sausage parties are always fun."

"But the ratios of sausage to non-sausage items can be overwhelming, Debbie."

"Then you know what Nate, forget about squirting sausage and beefy wieners. We could always get some poultry--maybe a plump cock and pullet!"

"Well, If I didn't spend so much time already working on my wiener, then I wouldn't be asking in the first place. Debbie, did you call everyone to remind them about the party? Ivana Kegel, Aunt Crank, Hoff Olivier, and Master Bate?"

"Oh yes, they're all coming. Everyone's agreed to come at the exact same time. It will be quite an experience."

"Oh GEE, dilemma solved! I found my wiener! I placed it in the bathroom next to my Bathroom Reader Volume 68! I'm a moron."

"That you are Nate, that you are," concluded Debbie as she rinsed out a novelty Party Boner in the sink.

Live Blogging the Countdown to the Michael Jackson Verdict

2005-06-13T17:23:00.000-04:00

The fate of the known world rests in 12 lame, non-celebrity hands. At 1:30 Pacific Time, or 4:30 here in the East coast future, the verdict of the Michael Jackson trial will be announced!

3:45 PM Here we go! 45 More minutes til the healing hand of justice applies balm to the swollen anuses of the alleged victims.
4:20 PM I have to interrupt the countdown. It's 4:20! Pass those blunts over this way.
4:30 PM We should take this moment to look back on Michael Jackson's stunning career. It all began with Moonwalker for the Sega Genesis and then it ended abruptly a year later during a music video with Eddie Murphy.
4:33 PM I was thinking, if he's guilty, then I hope Michael Jackson has learned his lesson once and for all. If he's found not guilty, then he should continue living his life exactly the way he's been living.
5:17 PM Get to the court room Michael! This is boring. You know, I took a cancer test a few weeks ago, and I didn't want to take it but when the blood tests came back and said I didn't have cancer, it was silly of me to think for all those months that I had cancer all along. I guess it's a slightly different because I had nothing to do with diddlin' baby boys. It's not like he was ever accused of molesting a girl or anything, but the honest fact is that Michael will be relieved once he finds out the verdict is GUILTY. Er, NOT GUILTY.
5:22 PM Drum roll... NOT GUILTY!
5:23 PM Well that was unexpected!

Keep your browser tuned here for up to the moment results!!

Yard Sale! - Part 3

2005-06-08T11:08:00.000-04:00

Seven rowdy bystanders, three street kids, and a mole person--who climbed out from the soiled pits of the subway system--helped chase after the retard who stole my priceless tuxedo from my yard sale.

But it was no use. The more we trotted and shoved aside slow moving pedestrians, the more our breath became heavy and our legs turned to jello. The mongoloid escaped.

I stopped abruptly and held up a defeated hand to signal our quest to capture the thief would no longer continue. I made a stoic speech thanking each of the angry mob members personally for their contributions and we all parted ways. I had a yard sale to get back to!

Minutes later

As I walk up 5th Avenue towards my brownstone, I begin to see a steady stream of people carrying my stuff. Couples looked so happy clutching my personal items, swinging them saying things like, "I can't believe they paid us to take this!" That's odd. My roommate Debbie has been running the yard sale in my absence... Debbie!

"Debbie!" I yelped after dashing the rest of the way home, "Where's all my shit?!" The yard sale was picked over like a lesbian bar at closing time.

"I sold it."

"How much money did we make?"

"Mmmm... I dunno. 12 or 13..."

"Phew. 12 or 13 thousand dollars! Praise the lord," I sighed.

"No, I meant 12 or 13 nickels. Yeah, 65 cents." Debbie showed me the handful of change. I slapped the change out of her hand.

"You idiot! Everything is gone! How much did you sell my original early Jean-Michel Basquiat for?!"

"Oh, that? I sold that and your 2005 Series Pringles collection for 3 bucks," Debbie responded.

"It took me months too eat all those Pringles! How much did you get for Romance of the Three Kingdoms VIII for the PS2 and Sorority Boys on DVD?"

"It wasn't very much--a few Canadian pennies."

"Oh Debbie! How could you." I began bawling. "Whore."

"Cheer up, I sold your shredded documents for 5 bucks! Someone was very interested in those." Debbie rubbed my shoulder gingerly.

"Hmph. Then how is it you only have a handful of change?!"

"Because I had to go buy tampons," Debbie answered sheepishly.

"God damnit! You wear a burqa, Debbie!"

This was quite possibly the worst yard sale ever. Things couldn't possibly get any crappier...

To be continued

The HOTTEST baby names are IN!

2005-06-06T14:15:00.000-04:00

The June edition of Hottest Baby Names just went to press! I think this may be the best issue yet.

CLICK HERE to see the Hottest Baby Names for the Month of June 2005

From the Webmaster:
That thing the winneroftheSAT has been working on isn't ready for primetime... yet. Soon though. Soon.

Have you Seen The Apiary?!

2005-06-03T13:58:00.000-04:00

Holy Cow! I'm never one to link to anything useful or culturally relevant, but this site I stumbled upon is totally wicked!!

The Apiary

Come back Monday. I have something I've been working on that's going to take all of us from the C-list... straight to the bottom of the B-List!

Shocking Deep Throat Secret Captures Imagination of Nerds Living in Washington, D.C. and That's It.

2005-06-02T14:21:00.000-04:00

Did you hear about Deep Throat? OMG! Fellow nerds living in the District, isn’t this like the biggest story ever? Debate must be raging in social clubs across your city. Is he a hero? Is he a traitor? I yearn to join you, D.C. He kept his secret for thirty years—why come clean now?!

Rest of America, I turn to you. What is your take? You don't care? That's interesting. Who is Deep Throat, you say? Your high school American History class never made it past the Civil War because you lacked things rich schools had like “textbooks” and "running water?" I didn't think schools were like that. You’re saying all this chatter about Deep Throat is a trite waste? And that old people are gay? You're throwing a party over the fact that Deep Throat has been knocked off the Yahoo headline feed already? Hold on now. I think that’s a bit insensitive. What’s that? You have a good Deep Throat impersonation?

Oh... my...

Surely you must comprehend the colossal weight and deft of this news?!

The Shocking Truth about Danica Patrick’s Phallus

2005-05-31T12:11:00.000-04:00

Behind that adorable smile and leather unitard is a secret so girthy, so penetrating, the news will quite literally, enter you from behind and plug away at your manhole.

Danica is packing a monster phallus in her underpants! The proof is on this woman’s, excuse me, this dude’s biography at www.danicaracing.com. Take a look at this actual item!

FAVORITE CLOTHES: Guys briefs and a long sleeve t-shirt

Whoa! Back the truck up, Danica! Your favorite clothing is 'guys briefs?" Not a pretty floral sun dress? Or a satin tube top? Guys briefs??

And you thought that Danica had some low hangin’ tees. Those are actually testicles!

Oh, the Places You’ll End Up!: Defenestrated from a High Rise Luxury Condominium after a quarrel with a jealous Lover.

2005-05-26T13:49:00.000-04:00

"I want out of this relationship!" you'll say to your jealous lover.

An argument will start over a simple round of Connect 4. Your lover convinced you reluctantly to stay in and have board game night. He'll playfully toss Connect 4 tokens at you and try to land them down your cleavage until you say, "Stop it, Just fucking stop it you stupid fuck! God, I hate you!"

You'll go on to list all the things he does that make you hate him and then you’ll reveal how you've nailed most of his family members. For the sake of impact you'll finish your tirade with, "Being in a relationship with you makes me yearn for the sweetness of death!"

And that's when he flies into a terrifying rage. Oops! You'll say, "Hey, I didn't really mean ALL those things. I was using hyperbole... Wait. What are you doing? Oh no!"

As you're pushed through a glass window from the 14th floor of a luxury highrise condominium and begin plummeting, you'll wonder how your obit is going to look in the quarterly Alumni magazine, and you’ll sigh, "Oh! The places I've ended up!"

Oh, The Places You'll End Up!: On Stage at The Comedy Zone telling 9/11 jokes to Other Gutless Asshats and The Bored

2005-05-24T13:55:00.000-04:00

If you're a used airplane salesman and some toweljockey comes lookin' to buy a plane... There's probably no point in pushing the extended warranty! I'm just sayin'! Just sayin' people.

Everyone in college thought you were hilarious. Heck, your friends still encourage you, "You should totally submit something to McSweeney's! Like a list or some bullshit." Little do they know, your email inbox holds countless rejection letters from every editor at every magazine in the world—even Equus.

Your office job is really stifling your creativity. Maybe it's time for a career in stand up comedy? Yes that's it! You've got some good material about college life in you. Oh! You know what else is funny? Swearing! That's hilarious. But you want to be edgy—that's your thing. Bingo! 9/11 Jokes.

Did you hear Michael Graves is designing the new Freedom Tower? Yeah, he's going to put a Target logo on the front of the building! I’m just sayin'! Just sayin' people.

Tonight is your first night. You have been practicing your bits for weeks. Now get out there and shine!

Uh oh. No one's laughing. Oh dear. A fat dude just threw a battery at you. Eek! But you have 20 more minutes of these jokes! At this time you'll look at your watch, wipe the disgusting sweat off of your bald brow and remark, "Oh, the Places I've Ended Up!"

Oh, The Places You'll End Up!: The Waiting Room of a VD Clinic for the Uninsured

2005-05-23T12:08:00.000-04:00

You majored in Scientist Studies, the ink on your diploma is still wet. You say goodbye to college and head to the big city...

May I suggest you make one careful decision before you commence your hopefully short lifetime of bad decisions? Do yourself a favor and move to a town with a Planned Parenthood or a GMHC. The truth is, it usually takes months of intensive STD treatment before you start a career.

Commit their numbers to memory. Upon moving, schedule a meet & greet appointment so you get to know the health care practitioners who will be habitually swabbing and gazing at your soon-to-be fetid noonie. You'll also want to choose a waiting room that’s right for your lifestyle.

Honestly—how are you supposed to get on the corporate ladder if you're not stuffing one cock after another into your face? That's a problem for today's grads. Sometimes it's hard to ask a potential employer if it'd be okay to wrap the lower half of his or her body in saran wrap and just cuddle.

Your taint outbreak isn't going anywhere. Neither is the gonorrhea in your throat. All you new grads are gonna spend a lot of time in the waiting room of a VD clinic because studies show it could take as many as 8 or 9 variant strains of the human papilloma virus before you even land your first temp job!

When you're unemployed and revising your resume in the waiting room of a VD clinic for the uninsured, you'll lean away from the decrepit half-wit next to you with the Tuberculosis cough and say to yourself, "Oh the Places I’ve Ended Up!"

This One Goes out to all the New Grads!

2005-05-20T14:49:00.000-04:00

In the spirit of graduation season...

A NEW 5-day feature by the winneroftheSAT!
Coming next week!

Yard Sale! - Part 2

2005-05-19T14:24:00.000-04:00

Part 1
"Come back with my tuxedo!" I shrieked as I chased after a wanton mongoloid. He barrelled down 5th Avenue, Brooklyn, and I was hot on his trail. I can't believe this guy would come to my yard sale and try to run off with my priceless tuxedo!

A well timed slide tackle brought the burglar to the pavement. The tuxedo flew from his hands and landed in a scum puddle on the edge of the sidewalk. I pinned and mounted the criminal UFC style and started punching him in the face.

A crowd began to form.

"Hey buddy, what are you doing?" a man in pleated khakis asked.

"What does it look like! I'm cleaning up the streets," I breathlessly shouted as I landed a jab in the robber's fat gut.

"But he's just a retard. Why are you punching him?" a crotchety woman with purple hair chimed in.
"Let the retard up. He's harmless," said a dude holding an issue of Radar Magazine.
"Stop hitting that helpless retard," motioned a girl eating a bomb-pop.

"I find it culturally insensitive that you all keep calling him a retard," I gasped while rifling through my enemy's pockets for his wallet or some cash.

"He's trying to steal that retard's wallet!" a passerby on a low-rider bicycle added.

A Rastafarian in cargo shorts pulled me off my assailant. "Just chill, dude. That retard isn’t going to take your tuxedo."

The crowd stood around my thief and we watched as he slowly reestablished consciousness and came to his feet. He shook his head and wiped the dirt off his sweatpants. He looked wearily around at all of us watching him then looked at the tuxedo that was still on the ground. He gave us one more groggy look.

Then he snatched the tuxedo and began sprinting!

"AFTER HIM!" I howled.

To be continued!

What's the deal with my Internet Friends being Missing or Dead?

2005-05-18T13:18:00.000-04:00

You used to be so young, so virile, and so full of life. Now look at you. You're all dead.

http://www.angryhamster.com/
http://www.bernietop17.blogspot.com
http://dadoodoflow.blogspot.com/
http://www.thedecadentwest.blogspot.com/
http://devilinareddress.blogspot.com/
http://www.esterly.blogspot.com/
http://www.goose.nu/
http://www.lostandfrowned.com/
http://www.mediocrelawstudent.blogspot.com/
http://www.poopdreams.blogspot.com/
http://sgtpoliteness.blogspot.com/
http://www.sexandtheboroughs.blogspot.com
http://www.allianceofpower.blogspot.com

Who could possibly take your places? Were there signs? I'm usually better at ruining lives than saving them, but was there something I could have done to save you?

I'll dispatch an Amber Alert just in case...

Check it Out!: The Pringles Flagship Store in Times Square

2005-05-16T12:23:00.000-04:00

This past weekend, Pringles opened its 50,000 square foot flagship store, right in the heart of Times Square.

Designed by brilliant architect, Rem Koolhaas, the main attraction of the Pringles flagship is the 4 story tall Pringles volcano situated right past the atrium. Every half hour, a Philip Glass orchestral score comes on the loudspeakers and a lazer light show begins. It culminates in a million crisps erupting out of 25’ radius can—dehydrated potato particles shower the mania consumed patrons like confetti on New Year’s. Then, a simulated lava river of partially hydrogenated oil washes over bystanders and floods out onto Broadway.

I stayed for about five or so washings. There’s just so much to do there. The Virtual Reality Chamber allows you to virtually eat any flavor of Pringles. The Pringles Man animatronic band plays an electro version of "Once U Pop, U Can't Stop" over and over. What else? Oh! The bathrooms were designed with public sex in mind.

As some of you know, I am an avid Pringles collector. I find most the pieces of my collection at the local Rite Aid for 99 cents. The Pringles flagship store in Times Square has awesome limited edition flavors you can’t find anywhere such as Sausage Supreme, Hardee’s Frisco Burger, and Gay Agenda flavored.

Next time you’re in New York, Check it out!

Live Blogging 25 Shots for 25 Years

2005-05-12T13:14:00.000-04:00

At my own insistence, I just poured 25 shots for myself in celebration of turning 25 yesterday. I’m very excited about ingesting all this alcohol. I thought it might be fun to live blog while I do the shots. What do you say, readers? Okay! Let's go!

Shot 1: Whew. That went down smooth.

Shot 2: Mmmm. Yeow! Only 23 more shots of Peppermint Schnapps to go!

Shot 3: Not feeling anything.

Shot 4: Still not feeling anything. This is boring. There must be a way to quicken the pace here.

I’m dumping the remaining 21 shots into an oversized beer stein. At this VERY MOMENT, I am chugging the alcohol from the stein. There! It’s all finished. I’ve consumed all of the liquor and I just slammed the stein upside-down on the counter.

Hmmm. Is there even alcohol in this alcohol?

Wait.

Hold on.

Here it comes.

Kdjafklejioqjiejqpgojana;vkadlasdfald’ald;fsdagjajd;l

I'm so wasted I can't type!

Ajkdj;aljdkfa;jdjadlja

Fucking WHOA!

I don’t feel so good!

OMG! Akajldkjfiaghdh I'm entering into a coma right THIS SECOND! Call an ambulance!

HOLY FUCKING FUCK! I was just in a coma! Thank goodness I've pulled out.

Ugh... I'm soooooo hungover.

Why didn't you people try and stop me??

It's my Birthday!

2005-05-11T14:41:00.000-04:00

"Birthday, Birthday, Birthday for you! It’s hard to believe that a year is through!"

Debbie sang this unconventional song and presented me with a burnt lasagna pan of angel food cake with no icing and a single candle. She had carved the word BIRTHDAY into the top of the cake, but the letter spacing was misjudged and the AY of the word curved down.

"Surprise! Make a wish!!" my roommate implored.

"I wish I was never born!" I responded.

"Aw, Come on. Turning 25 can't be that bad. Wish for something that can actually happen," Debbie urged.

"Um... I wish a jet engine would land on me while I slept like in Donnie Darko."

"Try again!"

"Oh, I know. I wish you'd go away forever but leave me with enough money to cover your share of the rent."

This wore Debbie's patience, "You know Nate, you should be careful what you wish for. What if I really did go away forever? Then you’d feel awful."

"Maybe," I lied.

Debbie gave me a side hug and I cringed.

I blew out the candle and we sat in our apartment in the dark.

This can only end with a sidewalk shooting outside New York’s Hot 97FM

2005-05-10T14:03:00.000-04:00

Oooohh! I totally scooped Brooklyn Vegan, Central Village, and the rest of the music bloggers with this exclusive!

Hot on the heels of Macho Man Randy Savage’s LP, Be A Man, WWE Superstar John Cena dropped what COULD BE the best wrestling related rap album since.

Click here to try before you buy!

Can somebody loan me $9.99?

The program director at New York’s Hot 97FM, the station where 50 Cent's friends shot some of Fat Joe's friends, graciously chipped in, "We can't assist every rapping wrestler with their dreams of pinning the world champion, but we can certainly help them slay each other in our studio."

My Problem with Mother's Day

2005-05-09T11:15:00.000-04:00

Whereas Mother's Day is like the biggest day of the year for restaurants, florists, and anal lube manufacturers, sadly, the Burning Bridges line of Mother's Day cards simply wasn't moving.

Mother's Day is really confusing for me. As astute readers might recall, I have a dual set of post-op transexual parents. Who doesn't these days? But, let's say I buy Mother-to-Father a pretty teardrop necklace, she-to-he starts bawling, telling me I'm oppressing her gender identity. If I buy Father-to-Mother a nice tennis bracelet, he-to-she reminds me, "I hate jewelry! Just because I drink estrogen in milkshake format, doesn't negate the fact I used to have a fat sack of semen, you know."

So on Mother's Day, instead of buying anything for either one of them, I simply send a blank card addressed to both that says "Congratulations Trannies."

Cinco de OH NO!

2005-05-05T13:50:00.000-04:00

I saw a curious bodega selling the following items on a sidewalk in Park Slope today.

-Girls’ t-shirts with shiny fonts and cute phrases like "Chica Caliente," "Muy Bonita" and "Estupido Maricon"
-Fake moustaches
-Fake immigration documents
-Sunless Tanning Cream
-Pinatas
-Baseball bats to be used with pinatas or for beating French expeditionary marauders.

I picked up a couple tubes of Sunless Tanning Cream and walked across the street where I saw another sidewalk sale with this stuff for sale!

-French marauding gear.
-Girls' t-shirts with cute phrases like "Trop chaud," "Fille Mignonne" and "Je suis un homo"
-Baseball bats to be used for beating indigenous Mexicans.
-Posters of Archduke Maximillian
-Cigarettes
-Idiot’s Guide to Colonizing Foreign Land book

I bought some posters. And then it struck me. Hey, wait a second, what's today? The 5th of May... Cinco de...

Just then, a nearby church bell ominously rang out and other pedestrians on the sidewalk grabbed their kids and scuttled inside their tenement buildings. Slowing cars abruptly stopped in both lanes of the street. Oh my God! Someone help me!!! People dressed like the Three Muskateers stormed out of one car firing rifles and hurling epees. In the other car, dudes in ponchos, pulled out glocks and lobbed Molotov cocktails fashioned out of Corona bottles.

As the cars sped off, both concession stands were completely decimated and dozens lay dead in pools of blood.

I've Located the Best Website IN THE ENTIRE COUNTRY! Link inside!

2005-05-04T13:27:00.000-04:00

Read Sploid's Finest Headline

HERE BEFORE YOU IS THE BEST WEBSITE THE NATION HAS EVER LAID EYES UPON.

http://atkinson.esu8.org/maniac/Index.htm

If you venture into the site's Guestbook, you'll find some precious treats. Such as:

"I am 80 years old, a veteran of the Pacific war, father of a 36 year old webmaster, and a former Madison Ave. advertising art director. Do not listen to those criticizing your website...simplicity is the essence of all art and of good taste also. There are too many glitzy, HTML web pages filled with clever stuff authored by non artistic people. The web, after all, is for communication not an art gallery for tasteless graphics. --John E. McColuogh"

"Good Job. This is a great start to a brilliant career. Keep learning and improve it and you'll be amazed at what the future will bring. --CG"

"I must say I was disappointed to see that you built this site using MS FrontPage using a template. If you had hand-coded it in HTML, now that would have impressed me! --Webmaster"

"You think you're something now, huh?! I'll tell you what! You ain't! You ain't nothing! Have you ever won the SAT? I didn't think so. I'm a genius. You're not. Face it. When you're not looking, I will steal that web design trophy from you and use it as a doorstop! --Anonymous"

Say Something Nice To... Lynndie England!

2005-05-03T13:00:00.000-04:00

Lynndie R. England. American icon. You need cheered up! Too many player denigrators out there. She's in the news again for pleading guilty to the Abu Ghraib prison abuses re: her and a bunch of naked Iraqi detainees. These are trying times for our hometown girl. Follow this trail of kindness and say something nice too!

--We’ve all "Done the Lynndie," but only a handful can say they’ve actually "Done" the Lynndie. (sexually).

--11 Years in federal prison sounds sooo long. Yuck! Think of it as 4017.25 days.

--This is outrageous! The prosecution has no evidence!

--I think you were framed. Isn’t being stacked in a hooded, nude fuck-pyramid how Iraqis normally spend their time?

--You and co-conspirator Charles Graner went on to conceive a beautiful child together. Goes to show this old adage still holds true, All you need is love... and torture!

--Laughing at others' genitals is not a crime.

--You won't have to worry about getting a stifling admin day job to make ends meet. Work stinks!

--When America's Next Top Model photographer, Nigel Barker, saw your portfolio when you were 18 and seeking modeling work, he said you were "dead in the eyes" and dismissed you. Look who the camera loves now. You!

--I'm pretty sure entering a Guilty plea before a military tribunal to enjoin in the commission of war crimes gets erased from your permanent record when you turn 25. I think your car insurance premiums go down too.

Say something nice!

The last time we were nice:
Say something nice to... Paris Hilton!

Trendspotting in Manhattan: European Edition

2005-04-29T13:18:00.000-04:00

Have another Jameson, expectant mothers! I just received a hot tip from "Alison M." saying that all over Europe, these:

Are the new these:

In order for teenagers to get excited about their future Fetal Alcohol Syndrome babies, schools are distributing chic and slender baby dolls programmed to party non-stop.

It’s great and all, Europe, to hop on new trends. But what are we supposed to do here with all our old fads?

Other Trends Spotted
Morning Glory Seeds
Knotting Your Scarf

It's that time of the month again!

2005-04-28T11:15:00.000-04:00

Ladies--listen up! This post contains tips on how to welcome Aunt Flo into your living room and how to prepare for game day against the Crimson Tide. Psych! Just kidding--it's actually the April update of Hottest Baby Names! Don't name your baby without learning what the most popular new names are.

Hottest Baby Names!

Feel the bloat!

A Slice of Life: What did you do with the metadata?!

2005-04-26T13:02:00.000-04:00

At an emergency office supplies meeting at the Burning Bridges Greeting Card Company. It's just Bobo Bridges (the CEO), Montana (Bobo's slutty secretary), and me, the 2nd Assistant to the Vice President of Consumer Affairs' Assistant. The 1st Assistant – the evil Sebastian Tolliver — was fired recently. The title has remained vacant. Montana and I are seated at opposite extremes of a 15 foot oak conference table. Bobo sits in the middle.

Bobo Bridges: How is your bosom today, Montana?

Montana: Just fine. Thanks.

Bobo: Mmmmm yes. Nate, we are having this meeting with you to discuss a fatal flaw in our binder clip supply chain. Yesterday, our binder clip reserve dipped to dangerously low levels. If it weren't for a Staples delivery truck that errantly crashed into our building this morning and the frenzied looting that ensued, we might be facing one of our worst crises yet.

Me: Sir, I can explain. The data I have shows that during this time in April, our offices go through approximately 300,000 binder clips per diem. No one could predict we'd use a million today. Look at these spreadsheets.

Bobo: These are interesting documents.

Me: The data speaks for itself.

Bobo: Yes, the data seems accurate.

Montana: He clearly didn’t take into account the metadata.

Me: The what?

Bobo: You forgot to include the metadata?

Me: Um... I dunno. The Excel Chart Wizard never said anything about metadata.

Bobo: Ooooh! This really butters my biscuits! I would expect near-sightedness out of Sebastian Tolliver, but not you Nate! Do you have any idea what would happen to this company if we ran out of binder clips??

Me: Not especially. What is everyone clipping all the time? We sell greeting cards, don’t we?

Bobo: Enough! Go back to your desk and prepare new documents—this time build your graphs using all of the available metadata.

Me: Where do I find this metadata?

Montana: You'll see it's just beyond the other data.

Me: Oh.

From the Webmaster: Further reading on the wotSAT’s work life:
The Interview Process

If you think a finger in a cup of Wendy's Chili is bad...

2005-04-25T13:10:00.000-04:00

I once found...
An entire human foot in my Never Ending Bowl of Pasta at The Olive Garden!

I once found...
A fried, mutated beakless glob of cells in a bucket of KFC Extra Tasty Chicken!

I once found...
Documents proving that the existence of a shred of moral fiber within the Republican Party is nonexistent!

I once found...
A video of a fat version of myself bicycling into a pool of mud that would surely win America's Funniest Home Videos!

I once found...
A secret passageway in my old house behind a grandfather clock that led to the ashes of thousands of copies of E.T. for the Atari 2600!

I once found...
Michael Jackson in bed with a 10 year old girl!

I once found...
Another man’s penis in my ex-girlfriend's mouth!

Tips to Make Earth Day Everyday

2005-04-22T13:12:00.000-04:00

-Instead of breaking a 40 on a curb and cutting one bitch, use that same 40 to cut two bitches.

-Also, when pouring a 40 on the street in remembrance of a dead homey, dedicate that 40 to all your other friends who you think are going to die in a very tragic way.

-Refrain from defecating in public waterways.

-Don't dump used cooking oil down the sink. Ingest it.

-If you work in a restaurant and your manager asks you to "marry the ketchups," remember to remove and reuse all of the cutlery you find in the bottles.

-Recycle your used SUVs instead of driving them once and throwing them away.

-There are 6 billion people alive on Earth. That means we're going to have to put 6 billion caskets into the ground some day. When it's your time to pass, request in your will that your lifeless body be callously dumped into a mass Sudanese grave or jettisoned into space.

-Don't change your car's oil every 3000 miles. Wait until something crazy happens.

-Try to eat fruits and vegetables that say "Now with 20 percent less pesticide!" on the stickers.

-Fart only when absolutely necessary.

-Switch from drinking 9 cans of Mountain Dew every day to just one 3-Liter.

-Conserve labor overhead by enslaving humans from the Far East to sew all of your clothes.

-When transporting toxic chemicals along the interstates in a semi, take time to learn how to drive first.

-Bake a cake to show appreciation for your garbage man and set it out by the curb.

-When you say to a dude, "Hey, Instead of driving separate cars, let’s take the bus," and the dude quotes Homer Simpson and goes, "No way! The bus is for jerks and lesbians," rip off your latex mask that reveals that you are actually Rosie O'Donnell, punch him in the face, and then get on that bus!

What do you do to make Earth Day everyday?

Yesterday, I was Culturally Relevant: Flight of the Conchords @ CBGB Gallery

2005-04-21T13:10:00.000-04:00

It happens once every couple months—I accidentally become culturally relevant! New Zealand's fourth greatest folk singing comedy duo, Flight of the Conchords, figuratively soared into CBGB and fed our gaping squawkboxes with delicious worms and grubs. Take Tenacious D, subtract Jack Black and that other dude, add two deadpan guys with hip accents, multiply the funny by 3 or so, and then forget this whole banal equation. Flight of the Conchords bounce lyrics back and forth like a dialogue while fingerpicking complex riffs, harmonizing, and beatboxing, complemented by brainplexing intersong banter.

The house was packed like a force fed goose gullet. People on a side balcony. People on a stairwell leading to the balcony. People sitting on the floor. So many people, the cocktail waitress was tossing us beers like a peanut vendor in a ballpark.

Here is the Set List:
--Nice to Meet You, Jenny - A song about a confused dude who runs into an even more confused chick he thought he made love to and adopted children with.

--What’s Wrong With the World – An Al Green deadringer, "We wanted to write a song about what’s important to us—the issues."

--It's Business Time

--Banter about how The Monkees started AIDS.

--Hip-Hopopotomus vs. The Ryhme-ocerous

--Albee the Racist Dragon

--The Future – The Conchords travel to the humanless future to perform for robots.
Best Lines: The Binary Solo - "00000001! 0111111110!" "In the future, we don't say Yes. We only say Affirmative."

--Boom Boom – A Shaggy-esque beatbox and Casio DG-20 flurry.
Best Line: "She's so hot she's makin' me sexist." BOOM BOOM in the BOOM!

After shaking their Boom Booms, they say good night and awkwardly wander about the tiny stage waiting for the moment to come back for an encore.

Encore:
--Lord of the Rings Soundtrack Song Dismissed by Director Peter Jackson
Best Line: "Hey Frodo! Hey What? Watch out for that thing! Oh nooo!"

--David Bowie Tribute – Back in the time machine, the guys go to the past to hand David Bowie an Eazy-to-Play Guitar Tab book of all his songs and take him through his oeuvre.

Culturally relevant! See Aziz Is Bored for more info on how to go to the free HBO tapings in NYC this week. If Flight of the Conchords comes to your town, go and claim your relevance too.

Good one, asshat!

2005-04-20T12:26:00.000-04:00

An asshat is someone, generally a white male dressed in pleated khakis, who blurts out the most non-witty comments to impress crowds of strangers when something barely notable happens around the group.

Yesterday, I was on a packed rush hour subway looking at documents. A drunken and bruised panhandler with skinny trackmarked twig arms comes onto the car, pushing through the sardine crowd lamely pleading, "Please, please, for the love of God, would someone fucking give me 65 cents. 65 cents, that’s all I need. Come on! Someone. Please. Pleeeeeease. 65 cents."

Someone finally hands him 65 cents. The vagrant counts the change and then says, "Ugh… I just need uh… 45 cents now. 45 cents, is all I need. Someone. Pleeeeeease. 45 cents."

This derelict is one of the lingering kind, who gets in everyone's face while wrecklessly bumping into other people. He is definitely wasted.

The subway comes to a stop. The dude shoves his way out of the car to hop aboard the next one.

When the coast clears, the asshats speak…

Asshat 1: 45 cents, that's ALL that guy needs! Sheesh! (chuckles from other asshats)

Asshat 2: He probably just needed 45 cents to pay off his final mortgage payment!

Asshat 3: No no. It was to finish fixing up his private jet!! (high fives the mortgage payment guy)

Asshat 4: Maybe he's a venture capitalist investing in a liquor company that’s working on 300 proof alcohol!!! (periphery erupts in laughter)

Me: Good one, asshats!!!! (sneers all around)

Yard Sale! - Part 1

2005-04-19T11:15:00.000-04:00

Now that my roommate Debbie has resettled my no-alcove starter studio, space has become a valuable commodity. Every day we languidly take turns sitting in the single lawnchair in the living room while the other sets their elbows on the armrests. If things got any more cramped, I'd have to sleep with my Polish sausage literally in her sweet peppers & onions.

So we decided to have a yard sale on a sunny Saturday afternoon!

We gathered all of our possessions and dumped them on the front steps of our brownstone. The junk littered the sidewalk and spewed into the street, effectively halting all pedestrians and vehicle traffic coming into the building/down the road.

As I prepared my voice for a day of obsequious salesmanship, I positioned Debbie behind a series of nearby trash cans so people wouldn't see her and think our yard sale funds terrorism. (She wears a burqa)

For the first hour we were open, people clumsily ambled through/sped with their cars over our things as they went to wherever they were going.

A retarded man in elastic sweatpants approached the shopzone, "How much for dat stupid looking tuxedo?"

"Oh this fine garment. Well, I'm glad you asked, sir! It's a one of kind piece--made of the finest threads collected from extinct breeds of silkworms. Take a look at the inside of the jacket. That's right! It was worn by the legendary Billionaires for Bush activist, Gary Poupon Jr., heir to the Grey Poupon fortune... He's dead now," I added.

"Yeah yeah, I don't care. How much?" the surly mongoloid snapped.

"5000 Dollars."

"I'll give you 50 cents," he volleyed back angrily.

"Hmmm... That seems kind of low. Surely, you realize the value of couture this haute."

"I have a better idea," said the man. "I'm just going to take it." The retard snatched the tux and took off sprinting down the street.

"WTF! Watch the merch, Debbie!!" and I flailed after him.

To be continued!

I’ve recovered the Transcript of the Preliminary Injunction Hearing Between Bratz Doll Nevra and Barbie re: Bratz' Recently Filed Lawsuit

2005-04-15T12:18:00.000-04:00

http://news.yahoo.com/bratzvsbarbie

Bratz Doll Nevra

Barbie

The Transcript

Nevra: Yo’ Judge, Barbie is straight trippin’ boo.

Barbie: Well, I never! I am insulted.

Nevra: How’s a nizzle supposed to get a dizzle with Barbie all up in my shizzle? I’m just a girl who wants to krump. Barbie and her thugs are holding me down.

Barbie: Look Nevra, I don’t know what krumping is. I drive expensive cars, I sleep with powerful men, and I eat Haute Cuisine crackers. I have no interest in your piddly market share. I think it’s safe to say, there are no grounds for this lawsuit, and that it should be dismissed. If you’ll pardon me, I have a yacht club meeting to attend…

Nevra: Excuse me, Miss Thang! I’d like to submit this exzibit dat proves dat B is stifling me, tryin’ to steal my rocks.

Exhibit A

The Honorable Judge Skeletor: This is damning evidence Barbie. I believe a fraud has been committed upon my courtroom.

Barbie: (says inwardly) The paparazzi! *clenches plastic fist*

The other people in the courtroom: (scattered “Oohs!” that build into a chant) Served! Served! Served! Served!

About the New SAT

2005-04-13T13:23:00.000-04:00

If I told you my cock was 10 inches and then namby-pamby good-for-nothing Austin Weiss (pictured) told you his was 25.4 centimeters, who are you most likely going to boink? I'll answer that. Me! Why? Because we don’t care much for the metric system ‘round these parts. You hear that, Weiss?!

http://www.cnn.com/new.sat.ap/index.html

I’ve lashed out at SAT winners in the past, but recent events in the bastardizing of the SAT call for lots of jealous moaning and childish foot-stomping on my part. As you may have heard, scoring a 1600 on the new SAT means that you’re a brainless fatty nitwit—one bong rip away from a career making change at the laundromat. A 2400 on the new test means that you win. Austin is one of the new winners.

*claps twice really bitterly*

Prize winning intellectuals are on my side. Last week, Conan O'Brien railed on Late Night against the College Board for making his SAT Analogy segments obsolete. Granted, he also slandered the Gregorian calendar when it decreed his In the Year 2000 segments post-ironic, but facts are facts. The new SAT is totally lame!!

Oh look! Austin Weiss split 4th place with 2 other Region 9 students in the 2001-2002 California Math League. Control F to see the truth.

I’m not some fading sports hero put to the pasture like Michael Jordan or Tonya Harding--I'm not! Listen to meeee! I’m still The Game. A certain Bret Hart slogan comes to mind whenever I catch a glimpse of my reflection, "I'm the best there is. Best there was. Best there ever will be."

So, basically, when I say on my sidebar that I scored a 1600 try not to think of me as a brainless fatty nitwit. I'm still a winner. And Austin, you can keep your metaphoric metric penis measurements. We know who's packing the most heat.

For now,
winneroftheSAT

Why are you exiting this Uptown Q train headed to Times Square?!

2005-04-12T08:45:00.000-04:00

People! Stop! Don’t you know Mariah Carey is performing there?

For the past 8 hours, Mariah Carey has been manually erecting dozens of roadblocks in the middle of the street to shut down traffic, and then she built a stage, programmed her lighting board sequencer, and connected a soundsystem with her bare hands just so she could selflessly sing for all of you today on Good Morning America. And you’re just gonna walk off this Q train and go to work?! Don’t you care??

Take those headphones out of your ears and listen to me, commuters! Put that AM New York down, prostitute! Wake up, homeless! Mariah Carey’s new compact disc, The Emancipation of Mimi, drops today and she’s about to take the stage in Times Square any moment now!

You’ve never heard of Mariah Carey? Are you crazy? Haven’t you seen Glitter? That’s how I first learned about her. I’ve never actually listened to any of her songs, but I’m told they’re really really something. My gosh, the last time Times Square had a traffic halting concert event like this was when New Jersey’s own Bon Jovi rocked the Big Apple in 2002 to commence the football season by singing Slippery When Wet in its entirety.

Where are all you people going?! That’s not the way to Times Square. Why are you getting out at 14th St. Union Square? Get back on the subway, you’re going to miss the show!

This Air is so Alive

2005-04-11T13:43:00.000-04:00

I might be rollerblading into Alliance of Power turf with this bit, but I just found my new favorite blog!! It's by Haslinda Lim You Ru aka Lin who will be referred hereafter as "this poor innocent girl."

www.memoriez88.blogspot.com

Would somebody please find it in his or her black heart to wire this poor innocent girl 19 dollars for the B.U.M. equipment skirt on her wishlist?

I have to admit, I'm kinda taking to the jukebox on this poor innocent girl's site.

Just kidding!

Look at me! I’m a link dumpster!

This is not dead air.

wotSAT Answers a Rhetorical Question asked by the Doritos Tortilla Chip Company

2005-04-08T02:00:00.000-04:00

First they cook this product:

Then when they're finished making them, they ask on the back of the bag:

What's wrong with you Doritos Tortilla Chip company? Are you stupid?? Right next to the question is a description YOU wrote telling us what "it" is:

It's Whole corn, Vegetable oil, (Contains one or more of the following: Corn, Soybean and/or Sunflower oil), maltodextrin, earthobate, salt, whey, cheddar cheese (Cultured Milk, salt enzymes), partially transgendered soybean oil, cream, Monosodium glutamate, mechanically separated American cheese (Cultured Milk, salt, enzymes), onion powder, tender vittles, tomato powder, spices (including black pepper), Corn syrup solids, sodium diacetate, swiss cheese, colby cheese, monterey jack cheese, sour cream (cultured cream, nonfat milk), natural and artificial flavors, equine hearts, citric acid, artificial colors, yellow 6, yellow 5, yellow 6 Lake, Red 40, Blue 1 Lake, yellow 5 lake, Blue 1, Garlic powder, Salicylic acid, butter, sodium caseinate, and Jalapeno pepper!!

Gah! You're so stupid!

Sploid Rage!

2005-04-07T13:22:00.000-04:00

Sploid, short for Super Duper Hemorrhoid, is a new site launched by Gawker Media.

Anyone familiar with internet publishing knows that the thirst for hits is insatiable. One could get a million hits a month and not be satisfied. Is Gawker merely focused on engorging its girthy shaft with more blood? Nah. I think they are working towards something slightly deeper, along the lines of, durrr I don’t know, TAKING OVER THE INTERNET AND ENSLAVING ALL OF HUMANITY BY FITTING US WITH METAL SKULL CAPS JUST LIKE THE TRIPODS DID IN JOHN CHRISTOPHER’S JUVENILE SCI-FI THRILLER THE WHITE MOUNTAINS!

I can't prove it. But, Gawker smartly realizes that the only thing that stands between them and taking control of the news cycle is The Drudge Report. If they can wrangle that away, which shouldn’t be too much of a problem based on the popularity of their sites, Gawker will be poised to become one of the most powerful media companies ever despite never using any other broadcasting outlet besides the internet.

Brooklyn Vegan links today to an article that discusses how Pitchfork--a site run by nerds about gaywads--can move considerably more albums for a gaywad than a cover spread on Spin and Rolling Stone. Clearly, there's some serious muscle to be made and flexed on the internet, and Gawker intends to sculpt their muscles to the max using metaphorical designer steroids and lots of metaphorical bodybuilding.

How can NBC Universal, Time Warner, and Disney be so short sighted as to not see what Gawker is up to? They'll have billions of dollars but they'll be taking orders from a company that has recently instituted paper currency as a form of payment for their writers.

I see what's coming. Gawker will own us eventually. I'm cool with it though, I like their editorial voice. I've just discovered I'm an anarcho-capitalist and that Sploid appeals to me on every level.

To Do List for the Week of 4/6 - 4/13

2005-04-06T08:02:00.000-04:00

-Request removal of layers 1, 3, 4, and 6 from 7-layer Burrito
-Pull expired pud from inventory
-Assimilate new urban catch phrase, 'Playa Denigratin'
-Boycott Canada's baby seal hunt by shopping less at Wet Seal
-Restore self-imposed ban on importing/trading seal pelts.
-Maximize use of time
-Finish 4x100 meter relay
-Minimize rate of failure
-Finish Ulysses
-Educate the poor, just like Pope John Paul II's teachings
-Eat the rich, just like Aerosmith's teachings
-Cash in on facial hair craze.
-Rally for spare change.
-Redeem coupon for 1 Free Barium Sulfate colonic included in employment benefits package.
-Continue playing Daft Punk's latest, Human After All, over and over despite critics' opinions.
-"The album sucks," says Pitchfork. "No, it doesn't," retorts Stylus. Blender and Entertainment Weekly weigh in, "Nothing could be shittier." NME counters, "Durrr, I dunno!"
-Research core data for Hottest Baby Names!
-Review documents.
-Ask Luiz the Spaniard whether he prefers being called Latino or Mexican.
-Ask aloud why I am ranked in the top 10 searches when someone types "dudes fellating each other" in Google.
-Spoil the CGI ending of Xenosaga 2 - Jenseits von Gut und Boese for the Playstation 2:

Wilhelm:
I see. So this is the Y-Data. But there's a great deal
missing.

Testament:
But both he and the U-TIC Organization have completely poured through the Realian's main database!!

Red Hooded Man:
He only went as far as the subconscious.

Wilhelm:
Below even that...in the lowest level of the unconscious domain... Are you saying the answer lies in the Unus Mundus?

Red Hooded Man:
Most likely.

Wilhelm:
Really? Well, I suppose we'll leave it at that for now. When the path to Lost Jerusalem is opened, KOS-MOS will awaken.

Testament:
So, what will you do with him?

The camera views the silent hooded man.

Mysterious Voice:
I said it was a shame, didn't I?

Testament:
There you have it. Good news, huh? Partner.

A white A.M.W.S. with a white hooded man descends on the scene.

Wilhelm:
Welcome... ...weaver of the eternal circle of Zarathustra!

The End! Thank you Oliver Kong at Gamefaqs for the transcription.

The Return of Debbie

2005-04-04T14:47:00.000-04:00

"Oh my mittens!"

There she is. The enigmatic Debbie. She stalks into my apartment wearing the same black burqa I last saw her in. Well, I take that back, I suppose I last saw her covered in bandages in a hospital bed. That was hilarious. I guess she's returning from the Park Slope Plunger Store, because she’s carrying an industrial-use plunger with an oversized tag on it that reads, "For FUCKING SERIOUS Clogs."

"Hi Nate. Good to see you again. Not." Debbie creeps past me into the bathroom, slams the door and hitches the deadbolt. I stand silently and listen.

She continues, her voice muffled by the door, "You may recall, I was recovering from a beating at the hands of Sebastian Tolliver at the local Methodist Hospital. Luckily, I survived. I'm sure it was your prayers that did it, Nate. Anyways, the doctor diagnosed me with a condition called 'Temporary Mild Brain Damage.'"

SCLUG SCLUG SCLUG

"My physician, Dr. Sanjay Gupta, insisted that I stay at the hospital until I was better. Each day, I became more and more cognizant of the world around me. My brain damage was going away!”

SCLUG SCLUG SCLUG WHOOSH

"I kinda liked living at a hospital. The nurses swabbed me with sponges, the physicians swabbed me with sponges, my roommates swabbed me with sponges... Mmmmm, I sorta just hung out there, sandbagging the extent of my brain damage.”

SCLUG WHOOSH SCLUG SCLUG SQUIIIIIIRT

"Today, I closed my eyes the way brain damaged people do and prepared for the reception of my daily swabbing, when a person with a suspicious and commanding gait strode into my room. I was too afraid to peek, but I could feel cold emanating from his body."

SCLUG SQUIIIIIIRT SCLUG PLOOP PLOOP SCLUG CLOOOOG

"And then..."

SQUIIIIIIIIIRT

"He scribbled something on my medical chart and left the room."

"What did it say?!" I inquired.

"It said, "We're coming for you, Debbie."

"Who was it?"

"I didn't wait to find out, I grabbed my stuff and came straight here."

FLUSH!

I can't believe I dropped my iBook and broke the Delete key!

2005-04-01T13:56:00.000-05:00

I totally tricked all of you!

I ain't going no where.

April Fools, honkies!

Lamentation Playlist

2005-04-01T10:06:00.000-05:00

Someone recommended I suggest songs for you to listen to while you wait for this site to be deleted into oblivion. Here are my top picks:

Foo Fighters - It's Times Like These
Wilson Phillips - Hold On
Magnetic Fields - I Die
Magnetic Fields - I Don't Believe You
Bette Midler - Wind Beneath My Wings
Promise Ring - Nothing Feels Good
The Cure - Boys Don't Cry
Celine Dion - My Heart Will Go On
Get Up Kids - The Most Depressing Song
Britney Spears - Not A Girl, Not Yet a Woman
Cyndi Lauper - Time After Time
Antony & The Johnsons - Hope There's Someone
The Ponys - Lets Kill Ourselves
Arcade Fire - Rebellion (Lies)
Bright Eyes - Sunrise, Sunset
Skynyrd - Free Bird
Green Day - I Hope You Had the Time of Your Life

Feel free to add your own songs.

Just a few more hours!! Whoo!

That's it, I quit!

2005-03-31T13:55:00.000-05:00

This may come as a shock, but...

I'm done "blogging" in the "blogosphere." And I'm done "listening" and "responding" to "comments."

Unless someone from Craigslist comes through, sometime in the next 24 hours, I’m going to delete the entire winneroftheSAT site and all of its subsidiaries.

It's been real.

Smell you all later!

New Website Created!

2005-03-29T22:35:00.000-05:00

Some of you know I've been researching for a professional blog that is going to totally challenge the way we think and influence people. I see what the top searches are on Yahoo, and I want to cash in.

Now is the time for the new website's unveiling! To keep up the suspense, I will redact the subject matter of the site.

This essential e-zine will be your one stop shop for all relevant information on __________. Each month, I'll comprehend extensive data and give you a detailed report on America's best _______. Hopefully, this resource will help countless new parents ______ their _______ and help them keep track of ________ trends.

Imagine, if you will, a place where beekeepers keep bees. Only I am the beekeeper, and the __________ are the bees. That was a great metaphor.

ENTER THE ASTOUNDING NEW WEBSITE

Bree & Mrs. Solis -- Merely Good Friends?

2005-03-28T02:02:00.000-05:00

They used to be good friends...

Actual Dialogue from Last Night's episode of Desperate Housewives:

Mrs. Solis: "Thanks a lot for giving me 14,000 dollars so I don't have to shit in the porta-potty on my front lawn anymore."

Bree: "With this sum, you can fix your broken toilet and clean up the biohazardous raw sewage that has flooded every square inch of your home."

Mrs. Solis: "I'm glad we're such good friends."

Bree: "We're more than good friends--we're GREAT friends!"

Mrs. Solis: "Yeah. Hey, would you like to come over for a cup of coffee?"

Bree: "Absolutely not."

A Springtime Poem

2005-03-25T15:43:00.000-05:00

Bees sting my legs
Bunnies don't lay eggs
Let’s go to Old Navy for shorts!

Dyeing ovas
Resurrecting Jehovas
Let’s go to Old Navy for shorts!

Girls, wax down your slits
And break in your company softball mitts
Let’s go to Old Navy for shorts!

Microwave fluffy Peeps in a bowl
Take the baby to Connecticut Muffin for a stroll
Let’s go to Old Navy for shorts!

Rain plops on your head
Stop wishing you were dead
Let's go to Old Navy for shorts!

Happy Easter!

First Day at the New Job -- The Finale!

2005-03-24T12:32:00.000-05:00

"You're fired! You're fucking fired! Do you hear me?!" Bobo Bridges slam dunked his bland sandwich on the floor for emphasis. Mr. Bridges' combover was visibly startled by the sudden angry movements.

"But can’t I explain?"

"No! We don’t have room for liars and people devoid of integrity at the Burning Bridges Greeting Card Company."

Wagging a wrinkly finger Bobo carried on, "On your resume you declared in your skill set that you are an expert at document handling. But when I gave you a stack of documents to review today, you stared at them blankly! You didn't even know how to hold the documents or how to operate a finger-stickie—a condom like device for your finger that allows for easy page checking. I came back to your desk an hour later and you continued to sit there agonizing over what to do with the documents."

"Bobo… I’m so sorry. I can learn. Please… Forgive me."

"Never. Get the fuck out of my company, Sebastian Tolliver!"

I was lurking outside of Bobo's closed office, ready to surprise him with the news that I’ve been in the bathroom all day and not totally hungover and missing my first day of work, when I overheard—by means of cupping my ear to a drinking glass to the door—all the shouting.

As you may recall, I stumbled on a mysterious floor in the building, that had a receptionist in a burqa whose head obscured a neon sign that said The Council of... Sadly, I had no time to waste piecing together what it all was, so I found the nearest stairwell and snuck in through the back of the BBGCC and tiptoed up to where I'm at now.

Sebastian wrecklessly flung open the door, striking me in the nose.

"THIS COMPANY SUCKS! Oh, and Nate, I see you and I’m still going to kill you!" Sebastian squealed in his signature 80's cock-metal voice as he stormed away towards the elevator banks, "Just you wait!"

"Nate--Good! You're here. I was worried you quit already. That guy is a kook." Bobo patted me on the butt.

"He sure is Mr. Bridges. He sure is...," I responded, rubbing my sore face and pushing Bobo's hand away simultaneously.

"How are you with documents?"

"I'm all for 'em."

As the sun set on my first day on the job, both literally and figuratively, I wondered some serious questions. What maniacal schemes does Sebastian have in store for me? What is going on at the enigmatic 32nd floor? When is my next break?

From the Webmaster: The First Day at the New Job Boxed Set
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
The Finale

The Right to Die Issue Hits Closer to Home: Please Help Pat Freestone

2005-03-22T12:13:00.000-05:00

It’s been reported today that ailing suicide attempt victim & video store clerk, Pat Freestone, quote, "wishes someone would just pitch my vegetative carcass off the back of a speeding semi."

In his hospital bed, the stinky and weakened Freestone lifted an atrophied wrist and hoarsely whispered to his bored mother, "Please... I want to die... with dignity." His mother reminded him, "It's way too late for that, you stupid fucknose."

This is the same mother who sends him notes like this:

The Friends of Pat Freestone Organization is asking anyone who can dial a phone to ring up their local congressperson and call for the public death of Mr. Freestone. Demand to have his blood on your hands.

Tell your politician to tell the other politicians to leave him alone.

5 Things I Would do Before I Died if I were in a Persistent Vegetative State and my feeding Tube was Pulled Out

2005-03-21T08:24:00.000-05:00

1) Bungee jump off the Golden Gate Bridge

2) Eat a sheet of acid

3) Attempt impossible human feats one last time like downing 15 hard boiled eggs without puking, swallowing 8 Saltines in under a minute without a sip of water, or folding a piece of paper in half 7 times.

4) Audition for lead in Weekend at Bernie’s 3.

5) Change health care provider/divorce spouse.

What would you do?

Adam & Eve! Not Arthur Glynis & Fenton McGillicutty!

2005-03-17T10:06:00.000-05:00

I snuck out of the office to take my elevenses—my midmorning snack between breakfast and lunch—when all of a sudden, I was swallowed in a peloton of drunken sloths on a parade route in the middle of Manhattan! What kind of gay pride rally is this?!

Hundreds of thousands of bibacious grown men crossdressed in ungodly Kelly green skirts, waving misprinted rainbow flags, chanting, "We're Here. We’re Irish. Get used to it!"

This parade is unnatural. "They should round all of you up and stick you on an island!" I instinctively shouted at the swarm.

"First of all, we're from an island. Second, we are on one now!," retorted a shirtless man wearing a ridiculous apiarist’s headband with 2 bobbing green fuzzies.

"Well, I'm still not used to it!" I responded.

And then he spit on me.

"You all look like that dude from Lucky Charms, you know! Get your own style—poseurs!" I ranted at other passersby as I wiped the mucus from my face.

"The USA was built on the backs of the Irish, lad. I will now not say 'top o' the mornin' to ya,'" a shirtless woman in green body glitter raved back.

Shucks. Everyone gets a parade except for me... I went to a curb and sat down.

An elderly gentleman who was watching me spiritlessly throw pebbles against the ground, came over and whispered in my ear something that made me fall over.

"It’s Saint Patrick’s Day?" I yelped in disbelief.

Big deal. I’m going back to work.

Welcome Metro Readers!

2005-03-15T13:29:00.001-05:00

You are the audience I crave—hip, young transients who love not paying for things and are instantly bored by articles exceeding 4 paragraphs in length. You, the reader, are like the strands of saliva betwixt a slobbering open mouth kiss occurring right now between Metro and me. Isn’t it electric?

For those living outside of New York, Metro is a free commuter paper here that presents all the day's news and gossip in fun, easy to read bites. Today I was chosen as Metro’s "Blog of the Day." See page 14.

Making the extremely gratifying leap from blogprint to newsprint hasn't changed me much as a person. I'm still the go-to guy in charge of ordering binder clips for all our North American offices at Burning Bridges Greetings, The Brooklyn Stretched Escalade Company continues to take me to and from wherever I freakin' want, and every night, I still make my butler draw my daily bubble bath with 30 gallons of steamed milk and rolled oats—just like before.

Don’t fear, I'm the exact same guy—only my name is buzzing on the lips of every beautiful person in the tri-state area. I’ll continue to use my astounding brainpower to tend to my duties as a senior leader in the Alliance of Power, the world’s first online blogger gang. Also, I'll go on reluctantly living with my revived roommate Debbie—despite everyone's opinion that she’s a boring piece of trash. There’s no way, however, that I'm letting her stupid cat move back in with us. I'm the same guy--see?

Attention Metro Readers! Wake up! I've surpassed the 4th paragraph and we can all agree this blather has become totally boring. Feel free to come back every Monday thru Friday until one of us dies for new updates.

For now,
winneroftheSAT

winneroftheSAT: Now Sponsored by Haute Cuisine Crackers

2005-03-14T01:10:00.000-05:00

When I hunger for a snack that is elegant and fashionable, I knock down the boxes of Pop Tarts and shove aside the empty tubules of Pizzalicious Pringles in my pantry and reach for Haute Cuisine.

Mmmm. So delicious. So glamourous!

These ain't no sh*tty Ritzs.

And another thing--Just because you can find them at the dollar store doesn't mean they're supposed to cost a dollar.

**This has been a paid advertisement by the Haute Cuisine cracker company**

Life = Super Tennis for the Super Nintendo, The Rest = Just Details

2005-03-11T13:28:00.000-05:00

Three days ago on my lunch break, I saw some dude with maximum coverage shades and a poopstain moustache walkin' down the street and I screamed out and laughed, "OMG, that guy looks just like Meyer from Super Tennis!" Everyone around me gave me high fives.

Two days ago I was talking to a dear friend and I was like, "Want to go to Sandwich Supreme for lunch?" and he was like "With you? Never! I hate your guts." and then I said "RATS! RATS! RATS!" and I kicked the floor with my foot. And he was gloating in my rejection going “YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!” and then I was all "OMG, we are just like the final screenshot of every match in Super Tennis!"

Yesterday, I was scarfing down lunch and watching The Matrix with directors’ commentary and there was a scene where the camera was zooming in and out and one of the Wachowskis goes, "OMG! We had to pay the creators of Super Tennis 50 million dollars for their Mode 7 technology in order to do this. It was so worth it though."

And finally, I was trying to score some lunch today in Williamsburg when all of a sudden, some guy turned into a werewolf right before my eyes and I thought, "OMG! This is nothing like Super Tennis! This is just like Altered Beast for the Sega Genesis!

A One Sided Conversation With: My Local Florist!

2005-03-09T13:06:00.000-05:00

"Hi there. What a nice arrangement you have! Look at all these pretty flowers—you've got white roses, pink tulips, and sunflowers."

"Oh yes, I agree. The gays do love sunflowers."

"Don't mind me as I lumber around the store casing the joint and calculating something. Ah! Over here—is this a flat of morning glories?? You don’t say. I've always enjoyed the calming sight and crisp smell of these precious flowers. I would really like to germinate my own garden—there's a special satisfaction one gets from nurturing a plant from the tiniest seed to the tallest bud."

"Yep, I wouldn't mind growing some Morning Glories of my own this Spring."

*I winked at her*

"Hmmm. I said—I wouldn't mind GROWING my own. You follow?"

*I winked twice*

"Look you dumb b*tch—just give me all the Morning Glory seeds you got!! Put them in this burlap sack! Now! Now! Now!"

"Yeah that's it. Gimme all those Morning Glory subspecies too—the Grandpa Otts, the Heavenly Blues, the Moonflower—don't try to be a hero, keep shoving those Burpee packets in the bag, slag!!"

"What you think I'm gonna do with them? I'm gonna get so high I can't even move. Shut up."

"I was just kidding about this being a nice shop. THIS STORE SUCKS!"

*I took the sack and charged out the door*

For your reference

Trendspotting in Manhattan

2005-03-08T12:52:00.000-05:00

Fox 5 Local News reported last night that for trendy and jonesin' school children, swallowing a packet of these:

is the new eating a sheet of this:

Which reminds me... I know a guy who knows a guy who was carrying a pack of Morning Glory seeds in his back pocket when all of a sudden it started raining cats and dogs...

In other deviant vegetation news, Manhattanites have yet to come up with a tertiary use for the full grown version of these and are solely using them for their secondary functions.

For More Trendspotting in Manhattan:
Manhattan's last big trend

Take Time to Volunteer - Happy Birthday Wild Animal!

2005-03-07T12:50:00.000-05:00

Because I care for all of God's creatures, I like to take a few hours every month to volunteer with the various relief agencies in New York. I spent last Sunday with the animal outreach group called Happy Birthday Wild Animal!

The mission of Happy Birthday Wild Animal! is to surprise undomesticated and feral beasts with birthday cakes and apply anthropomorphic constructs to their savage brains that they could never ever comprehend—all while showering them with lavish gifts! We don't buy a can of Fancy Feast for our cats like the lame Every Adorable Kitten Deserves Fancy Feast—we only deal with at-risk wild ones. Heck, we don't even care if it really is the animal's birthday, we just love to party and so do the party animals.

We get dressed up in Panama Jack safari outfits and drive around the Catskills hootin' and shootin' confetti cannons into the air from a minivan until we spot a wild animal in need of a surprise party. We then start clapping 1-2-3-4 from within, roll open the side doors, and approach the untame mammal while flatly singing this tune:

Happy Happy Birthday
From the Happy Birthday Wild Animal Crew!
Happy Happy Birthday
From all of us to you. HEY!

Then the last person in the clapping train presents a triple layer chocolate cake to the animal with all the candles fully lit. Guess who presented the cake this time? You guessed it. Me! My first time with the group and they had me present a cake to a deadly deadly cougar!

That's when a cougar and several of his irate friends began attacking all of us.

"Help meeeeee!" I screamed as the mountain lion batted the sugary cake out of my hands and ripped a claw down the front of my chest like Sagat in Street Fighter II. All the other volunteers were shrieking and fleeing in opposing directions. "You didn’t open your lavish gifts yetttt!" I howled as a cougar grabbed me by the neck and shook me like a baby.

Thankfully, one of the volunteers was carrying an assault weapon and he managed to shoot all of the endangered animals dead without causing much harm to me.

Well, that was a bit of a disaster! On the drive home to the city, we returned all the gifts we bought back to Wal Mart.

After "The Catskill-ing Spree" (as the Post called it) was all said and done, I still think I made a difference in these animals' lives—despite the fact they're all dead now. And isn’t that the whole point of volunteering—to make a difference? Take time to volunteer everyone.

Other groups I've volunteered for:
Shape Up, Homeless!

Countdown to Pacification: The Punchline You’ve Been Waiting For

2005-03-04T13:30:00.000-05:00

Ahhhh!!! My eyes! Oh, Mother of all that is unholy! Forsooth! What was I thinking? Vin Diesel in a clandestine operation to sit babies! Brad Garret in a singlet! Why didn't you people stop me?!

The only orifice this Pacifier belongs is in the stinky butthole from whence it came.

Countdown to Pacification - Just a few more hours!

2005-03-03T16:46:00.000-05:00

The moment is almost upon us! In less than a few hours, The Pacifier will open at midnight in every city in North America. You betcha I left work 8 hours early to be the first in line! To show my rabid fanaticism for this movie, I’m dressing up like all things The Pacifier and doing one man original scenes inspired by the film in front of the theatre. Let’s go through my propslist to make sure I’m fully prepared:

--Vin Diesel Musk for Men
check!
--Pink tutu from the set of Mr. Nanny signed by Hulk Hogan
check!
--Bottle of powerful, mood enhancing Type III narcotics for the crowd
check!
--Crying baby w/ soiled diapers
check!
--Hilarious trained duck that bites my ear when I say "Action!"
check!
--Everybody Loves Raymond Superstar Brad Garret in a wrestling unitard
check!
--"Astonishing Plot Recycling Machine" fashioned out of a box of pancake mix wrapped in tinfoil that will allow me to theatrically enact turning The Pacifier storyline into a stunning vehicle for action hero cum stay at home Mom of the future, Haley Joel Osment.
check!
--A big poster with puffy paint and glitter that conveys the message "Whooooo! I'm insane!! Whooooo!" to passersby.
Still working on it!

Countdown to Pacification - Actual IMDB Message Board Headlines - 3 More Days!

2005-03-02T13:26:00.000-05:00

Diesel and a bunch of screaming kids. Can you imagine anything worse??!

What the *beep* is wrong with Vin Diesel?

Looks gay

To be honest, I would rather see xXx2.

'It's naht a too-more' (it's not a tumor!)

Vin Diesel is finished..

Shut the hell up losers!

I'm with the dude who wrote, "Shut the hell up losers!" The Pacifier is going to kick balls! Just like Vin Diesel!

BTW, I managed to get another comment from a disheveled Hulk Hogan:

"So this is how it all ends, huh. Brother, when you drink a liter of scotch and stare down the barrell of .22, life finally begins to have some clarity. If Suburban Commando were a bigger hit, things might've been different. Could you give me a hand...? Diesel!!!"

Why did I go on MTV's Room Raiders?? - The Finale

2005-03-01T13:32:00.000-05:00

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

"That stupid stupid whorebag! Gah!" I punched the interior wall of the van. "Owwiee!"

My former roommate Debbie, whom I last saw dying in a hospital bed, was in my apartment taking a dump during the taping of Room Raiders. A sweet horsefaced contestant named Suzie was on the cusp of choosing to give blowjobs to me, I'm certain, when she opened the bathroom door and found Debbie on the throne.

On the production monitor, a Room Raiders producer consoled a visibly shaken Suzie while waving in the cameraman to get tighter on the tears.

The van us dudes were in, pulled up to Suzie’s apartment and the crew instructed us to stampede inside and break everything we see. A production assistant shoved a bag of stinky garbage in each of our hands to strew all about too.

"Go make fun of that girl’s stupid possessions! Crucify her! Mwa ha ha! Go go go!" yelled a weasel-like director with Don Henley hair.

I instinctively took the hefty garbage bag, screamed primally into the air, and pitched it square at the director’s fugly mug. The blast knocked him to the ground with a bone crushing thud and the Room Raiders crew began weeping and crying. I took off running for the nearest subway station.

I've got to find Debbie! Where has she been the last 4 months?!

Twenty minutes later I'm walking with my head down past the other half of the RR production—paramedics were loading Suzie into an ambulance marked "Brooklyn Asylum."

I hopped up the stairs of my building, stepping anxiously through the broken-down door of my 1 room apartment.

"Debbie! Debbbbbiieeeee!! Where are you?!"

The place stunk and there was no answer. My computer was turned on and the following message anchored itself like a dreary fog to the screen/my life.

Chris Rock was Right!!

2005-02-28T13:08:00.001-05:00

Last night, to test a hypothesis, I invited 5 random black males from the casual encounters section of Craigslist to hang out and watch The Oscars with me. Let me tell you--Chris Rock was absolutely right when he said straight black men don't watch the Academy Awards.

I mean, I had no reason to believe one way or another before I conducted the experiment.

But when Dwayne, Cliff, Theo, Arnold, & Willis showed up to my apartment without a single bag of Dipsy Doodles on Sunday, something seemed instantly queer. They sashay-ed right into my studio and started a pillow fight over who had the best hair during the The Oscars pre-show. It became unanimous--Adam Duritz of the Counting Crows.

After the laughter died down, I interjected, "It must be nice to leave all your girlfriends at home to spend an evening with 'the guys' on Oscar Night, huh?"

"Why don't you just take your pants off, white boy," said Dwayne on behalf of the group.

"Ummm. I'm fine actually." It dawned on me then--these black guys watching the Academy Awards are really totally gay! The next 15 minutes were filled with awkward silences and tense leers.

Right after Selma Hayek won a lifetime achievement award for speaking English, I leapt from the couch, said to Cliff, "Hey dude, seat check," and ambled to the kitchenette area to grab a Coors. I opened the fridge and hollered, "Would anyone else like one?" No response. When I turned around, Theo was fellating the engorged shaft of Willis while Willis rimmed the spread ass of Arnold as he swapped orifices with Cliff in a sixty nine position—right on my futon! And guess where Dwayne was jerking off? In MY seat!

"Arghh!! I called seat check! I thought we were just going to be a bunch of black dudes chilling and watching The Oscars, but I guess my expectations were set too high. Everyone out--now!"

When they finished shooting their loads all over each other, the men sheepishly gathered up their stuff and left.

Chris Rock was so right.

Countdown to Pacification Extreme Caption Contest - 9 More Days

2005-02-24T14:25:00.000-05:00

Once again, an outraged Hulk Hogan was available for comment:

"This is bull! I took vitamins, I said prayers. Let me read you this letter from a Hulkamaniac: 'Dear Hulk Hogan, I loved you in 3 Ninjas 3: High Noon at Mega Mountain. Why don't you make more wonderful movies? Love, Bobby the Orphan.' Well, Bobby the Orphan, I would... but Vin Diesel keeps stealing my vehicles! Diesel!!!"

Without further ado...

The Pacifier Extreme Caption Contest!

What you got??

Countdown to Pacification - 10 More Days

2005-02-23T14:22:00.000-05:00

This is Vin "replacing his usual arsenal of wetsuits and weapons with diapers and juiceboxes."

That duck looks hilarious!

A furious Hulk Hogan was available for comment:
"I can't believe Vin Diesel stole my next paycheck! Disney was all set to begin production on "Mr. Nanny 2: My Nanny is Slowly Dying of Steroid Abuse" when all of a sudden some dudes came in and turned off all the lights at the studio. They drove away with my trailer!"

Attention! Nashville area wotSAT readers!

How to Get Your Free Screening Pass

On February 25, 2005 from 7:00 - 7:15am only, News 2 viewers can come by the station and pick up free screening pass for The Pacifier. You can pick up a pass between 7:00 - 7:15am on February 25, 2005 only. Tickets will not be handed out until 7:00am. Pass is good for the Tuesday, March 1, 2005 show at 7:00pm screening at Regal Green Hills Cinema 16 only. Only one pass per person.

Does the Greyhound go to Nashville? More importantly if I got on now, given all the broken axles, blown out tires, and in-transit passenger riots, can I make it by 7am?!

I will not be pacified until March 4th, 2005!

Say Something Nice To... Paris Hilton!

2005-02-22T12:27:00.000-05:00

Poor unimaginably wealthy Paris. Someone hacked into your T-Mobile Sidekick this weekend and released your photos, your personal notes, and the numbers of all your superstar friends. Well, I find the internet reaction to the news to be despicable. I’m not gonna be one of these lame-os who gets his rocks off by brutally making fun of you during one of your worst public crises yet. Take my girlishly weak shoulder for support as I say something nice to cheer you up.

--You've proven to the world that despite all signs that would show otherwise, Fred Durst has at least one friend. That makes him feel good.

--Having "Dr. Pat" as your general practitioner instead of Dr. Sanjay Gupta further reinforces my longstanding belief that Dr. Sanjay Gupta isn't really a doctor, but actually some dude Anderson Cooper met in the men’s room at Splash.

--As embarrassing as it might be to have Ashlee Simpson in your friends list publicly revealed, be thankful you never saved Jake the Snake Roberts' phone number when he gave it to you.

--It's safe to say that each and every one of us has topless photos of ourselves making out with random lesbians or of us snuggling with Burt Reynolds. The internet needs to quit player hatin'!

--The world no longer pays attention when new pictures of your overexposed boobs hit the streets. The world, will however, become slightly intrigued when it hears that shots exist of you fisting Richard Simmons while he hangs in a bondage harness.

--Since you don't have an actual career at stake or an oeuvre founded on artistic merit, each new scandal can only make you hotter. Paris Hilton, you are the Teflon of the new millennium.

--In an effort to make it up to you, T-Mobile will graciously waive the charges on your 39.99 monthly plan

Say something nice!

Other times I've chosen to take the high road:
Say Something Nice to... Ashlee Simpson!
Say Something Nice to... Viktor Yuschenko!

Presidents' Day at Burning Bridges

2005-02-21T13:42:00.000-05:00

The BBGCC wasn't planning on coming out with any Presidents' Day cards this year because last year's unsold production filled most of Staten Island's Great Kills landfill.

However, creative brass at the Burning Bridges Greeting Card Company still thinks there's a hot hidden niche market for this holiday.

The cards ain't exactly flying off the shelves. I dunno...

Why did I go on MTV's Room Raiders?? - Part 3

2005-02-18T14:27:00.000-05:00

"Room proprieter number two: I totally liked the 4 sets of first party Donkey Konga - Conga drum paddles, it says you won’t settle for 2nd best and that you have three friends. I also liked the skin mags and the massive cum stains all over the place, it shows you’ll probably be up for plugging me all the time. However… I didn’t like all the booby traps—that motion detecting arrow shooter almost killed me."

"Now, it's off to go see room number 3!"

Crap. I'm next. I'm sitting partially nude in a passenger van with two other dudes watching our rooms get raided in real time by a horsefaced and homely girl named Suzanne. Her friends call her The Sooz.

Her vehicle pulls up to my brownstone in terrifying Park Slope, Brooklyn. She gets out and we can hear shouting and gunshots in the background. The Sooz races upstairs to the splintered, broken door of my open studio apartment. She takes one cautious step inside.

After a minute of speechlessness, The Sooz turns to face the camera.

"Seriously--what the fuck?"

Dildos of various shapes and sizes were scattered across the living room, nickels and pennies littered the floor, my wall size Celine Dion poster lay on the ground in tatters.

"I’m not a big fan of all this squalor. I came here to find stacks of cash. NOT loose change. You think this impresses me? What's with all the dildos?? There's like three dozen. You only have two usable orifices."

"They're Debbie's! My former roommate's—I swear," I say to the dudes as I try to get high fives out of them.

Back to the girl—"Mmmm, okay. I like all the pink shirts in your closet," as she picks through my clothes. "It shows you're confident and comfortable in your sexuality. Oooh. I don't like this gold lamé three piece. That’s not cool."

She goes on, "Not that I will ever choose you, or that you even have a life worth living, but all of America would love to see me make fun of your bathroom on television."

She steps in front of the closed bathroom door, turns the knob, and kicks it open.

The Sooz begins screaming and hyperventilating. "Oh my, oh my oh my oh my!" She then runs out of the apartment, out of the building--her arms flailing wildly in the air. The camera crew finally chases her down the block and stops her for comment. She buckles over and gasps.

"I definitely did not like the Sunni Muslim taking a dump!"

"Debbie!!" I shouted as I clenched my fist.

To be concluded!

Comments Overheard at The Gates in Central Park

2005-02-16T13:23:00.001-05:00

“No Alberto Tomba, you can not ski through them.” – Alberto Tomba’s assistant

“If the Alliance of Power were here, they would knock all of The Gates down and destroy everything.” – A terrified mother

“This is lovely. 7500 perches for Pigeons to poop on you from.” – Girl with nice jacket

“To coincide with the artist’s vision of creating a work that only exists in a singular time and place, wouldn’t it be awesome Peg, if you sucked my cock right here, right now?” – Peg’s date

“I just can’t decide which one is my favorite. I love them ALL!” – Guy with knotted scarf

“Woof woof! (I must conserve my urine so I can mark each one accordingly.)” – Some dog

“And if he sticks the landing, Blaine Wilson will secure the Silver for Team USA in the Men’s All Around.” – Announcer watching Blaine Wilson as he prepares for dismount

“This orange material will make a great blanket for me rip down and sleep on.” – Some homeless guy who needs to shape up

“1st quarter profits are soaring! Our stockholders will be pleased.” – CEO of JoAnn Fabrics

Please Befriend Me, Michael Jackson

2005-02-15T13:26:00.000-05:00

I am not a Backstreet Boy. I do not have a big afro. I am not a blind piano player. I was never a child actor, or a New Age guru, or a psychic, an illusionist, a CNN Broadcaster, a Late Night comic, or a basketball player accused of rape. And despite doing countless—countless—kegels, I do not have a 12 year old’s butthole.

But c'mon, Michael. I can be your friend. There’s gotta be room for me somewhere on that witness stand. Please.

I'm only pleading with you because I want to hang out at Neverland during the off-season.

Regardless, I am here for you Michael Jackson. Subpoena me. I'm in your corner. When the Prosecution asks, “Does Michael Jackson fuck children?” I will cross my arms and vociferously declare, “Probably not!” When the nation's toughest attorneys stare me down and say, “Has Michael Jackson ever plied you with alcohol in an attempt to get you to whip out your pooper?” I will furrow my brow in disbelief and voice out, “Heck no. I doubt he'd ever do that!” Even if the lawyers were beating me senseless with snap-kicks and calling me names, I'd say, “My guess is that Michael isn’t capable of such acts because I read once that he's had his penis removed and replaced with a permanently flaccid prepubescent prosthesis.”

Surely I must have done something with my life to warrant your friendship. I just want to hang out, testify a little bit, then get some no-wait snow cones at The Ranch before you go to prison and your place is bulldozed. I’ve tried to approach other inexplicably non-human celebrities about hanging out at their bizarre homesteads, but Sigfried and Roy won’t return my calls.

Please.

The Alliance of Power will Keep Destroying Until There's Nothing Left

2005-02-14T13:05:00.000-05:00

I don’t mean to alarm anyone by the following statement, nor do I wish to cause widespread online panic. But the fact of the matter, truth be told--the Alliance of Power owns you.

People love casually throwing out statements like “The pestilence lined streets will flow fresh with the virgin blood of the nonbelievers,” and “Those who should choose the unrighteous path shall be cut in two by the soul eating sword of Memnoch!” My grandma says shit like this to me all the time.

However, the Alliance of Power will make due on each and every hollow promise it makes.

I dare anyone to step to this. We are badass mothers. Look at us. There’s 15 of us. How many of you are there?

For information on initiations and upcoming destruction, please inquire within.

Now Recruiting for Hot New Online Gang

2005-02-11T12:56:00.000-05:00

I was speaking with a West Coast webmistress last night and we bounced around some ideas to take blogs to the next level.

We are starting an online gang.

We're going to fuck shit up. Take down the status quo. Find some cyberturf and then protect it. We're going to do it with keystrokes, lots of bullets, and Fosse hands.

We don't have a name yet. And there's only the two of us in it so far. We're going to go around to unsuspecting bloggers and sites and beat the crap out of them in their comments sections. We will be a powerful, united, nationwide front that unleashes carnage and destruction wherever we choose to go. We will also be fun.

Recruitment begins now. Are you IN?

Terribly Unfun Facts: Health Awareness at the Office that Won’t Help You Anyways

2005-02-10T13:23:00.000-05:00

--8 out of 10 mutilating escalator accidents occur when an errant shoelace gets caught in the teeth of the moving steps. The other 2 are caused by shotgun blasts.

I’m never riding an escalator again…

--Shaking your hand with an associate is the easiest way to contract germs and communicative diseases. Shaking your donger after peeing is the easiest way to contract genital whiplash.

I probably just shouldn’t shake anything…

--While you’re working, the cell phone in your pocket is shooting deadly radiation into your groin. While you’re sleeping, the cell phone on your nightstand is plotting to undermine your family values.

Maybe I will just get rid of the cell phone…

--Every day, thousands of desk jockeys go untreated for minor paper cut related injuries in the workplace. Every day, thousands of lumberjacks go untreated for deadly logging tool related injuries too.

It's a vicious cycle of pain I want nothing of...

--Carrying important documents in a messenger bag shows that you’re really youthful and hip. Carrying important documents in a Fashion Bug Plus bag shows that you’re really fat and downtrodden.

I can’t go on like this…

Why did I go on MTV's Room Raiders?? - Part 2

2005-02-09T13:47:00.000-05:00

Part 1
Clutching a moldy shower curtain to my naked loins, I raced to rip down the wall poster of Celine Dion caressing her "miracle" as I threw down my wallet and shattered a glass peanut jar filled with loose change across the dirty hardwood floor. While struggling to hurl out the window a Yaffa block jammed with the oversized dildos my former roommate left behind, I felt an Enzuigiri connect with the back of my skull right before blacking out. I was subsequently bristled out of my apartment by the Room Raiders production staff.

I awoke on the floor of an Astrovan, sandwiched between 2 other groggy looking dudes. I peered out a side panel, and it seemed we were parked in front of a Wal-Mart and the crew was out shopping. Looming near us was a TV with a video camera duct taped to the top of it. The power was on.

I tried to kick open the un-unlockable rear doors and I howled “Let me out!!!” at least twice before deciding my efforts were totally futile. MTV had me right where they wanted me.

The groggy dudes came to upon hearing my helpless wails.

“How did they get you guys?” I inquired tenderly.

“I was hit in the gut with a sledgehammer,” said a dude whom I looked better than.

“They got me with a steel chair,” said the other dude whom I looked way better than.

“Wow.” I replied. I felt really great about looking better than both these guys. We introduced each other and I noticed they weren’t making eye contact with me. It then struck me that I was still without clothing.

“Hey! Get off my shower curtain, you stupid gays!”

I pulled it out from under them and wrapped my torso in embarrassment.

All of a sudden, the TV turned on and a girl appeared on the screen.

“Hey boys!”

To be continued!

New Valentine's Cards Rolling Out

2005-02-08T11:47:00.000-05:00

Jeezus H! It's been crazy busy at the Burning Bridges Factory gettin' our line ready for Valentine's Day. There's been so many supplies that needed ordered, I haven't had a spare second to shirk away from work to blog! One minute, middle management was demanding more paper clips and 3 hole punchers. The next minute, they were chomping on the bit for a new 2nd Assistant to the Vice President of Consumer Affairs' Assistant!

Tomorrow, I'll continue prattling about my dreadful experience on Room Raiders. I pray that ep never sees the light of day...

Weekend Community Graffiti Project

2005-02-04T14:23:00.000-05:00

Although not indicative of his astounding gift for the written word, Funnsylvania Rob has a great post today filled with the only thing that fills your infinite abyss--funny jpgs.

Here's how the Weekend Community Graffiti Project works. You take the jpg below and add something to it, building off of what the previous additions are. Two ways of doing this: 1) Alter the picture using Paint or Photoshop then resubmit the new jpg via winnerofthesat@gmail.com for posting or 2) Add a comment saying what you would like to see done to the picture and I'll work it in. Either way, be sure to notate your contribution to the community.

Ends Monday.

Ready? Go!

Here's your inspiration:

#1 original

#2 via Dan

#3 via me

#4 via Dan

#5 via Instant Pickle

#6 via Tom

Yesterday, I was Culturally Relevant: The Arcade Fire @ Irving Plaza

2005-02-03T13:45:00.000-05:00

photo via Eats Dirt

The cultural relevance just don't quit. I totally achieved it once again simply by spending 3 gazillion dollars to score a ticket to the final show in The Arcade Fire's Bowery and Beyond: NYC Concert Trilogy.

For those who recall my previous rise to relevance, it was almost marred by a short person. Once again, height deprived people fought in vain to ruin my life. I was shoving my way through the crowd just left of center stage to get to the front and I see this huge gap of open space dead in the middle of the throng. "This is where I can stand," I exclaimed! And then I looked down…

Would you believe a half dozen grown demi-adults ranging in height between 4 foot 7 and 5 foot 1 were all huddled there? I was shocked and enraged. From a visibility standpoint, you might think that it's great to be standing behind them. But my goal was to get as close to the stage as possible so I could mosh and do some floor punching. Now, if I were to stand in front of the lil' ankle biters, I wouldn't hear the end of it. But lurking behind them was worse, because I kept fearing they were going to get squashed or broken. I graciously offered to lend a hand and boost them up to the balcony—but they thought I was kidding.

Thankfully, four songs into The Arcade Fire's set, the band's leader climactically teetered on the front edge of the stage and leapt with his guitar into the crowd. And just as I feared and wished for, all the short people were trampled as everyone rushed to bounce around the singer.

All I remember thinking the whole time he was on the floor was, "Dude, whoever does their dry cleaning must be a millionaire."

Get it? They sweat a lot. And wear the same formal wear every day.

So what made the night relevant? Was it merely their power packed shows? Hmmm… there was definitely something that made this more relevant than before. I can't remember. Let me think. Okay… trying to focus. Oh man, what was it? Oh yeah.

DAVID FUCKING BYRNE

During the encore, The AF hauls out a steel drum for a Talking Heads cover they've been known to do and all of a sudden, David Fucking Byrne comes on stage and the crowd goes bananas. FYI: He’s still got the hips of a 7 year old boy, the hair of a 70 year old man, and the voice of an angel.

At the end of the show, reports say people were heard outside saying, "You didn't know who that was? That was the singer of the Talking Heads--David BRINE!"

Culturally relevant!

Others who were culturally relevant:
Brooklyn Vegan -- With great audio & links!
Out of Focus -- With a great story!
Central Village -- With a great camera phone!
Eats Dirt -- With the greatest pictures ever!

The last time I was culturally relevant:
The Arcade Fire @ The Bowery Ballroom

Why did I go on MTV's Room Raiders?? - Part 1

2005-02-02T13:43:00.000-05:00

The reason I'm so disgruntled with MTV is because a few weeks ago I answered one of their ads for their TV show, Room Raiders. It's that one where a floozy traipses without warning through a potential mate's bedroom seeking out material items that would be indicative of the immeasurable complexities of the dude's unique soul. After looking at three rooms, the broad then decides which guy she wants to give blowjobs to based on how many stacks of cash she finds laying around. I figured this would be the easiest way to fingerbang someone who's been on tv, so I enlisted.

Anyways, I was taking an extra long shower today when a camera crew broke down my apartment door with a fireman's axe and kicked open the bathroom. I wrapped the transparent mildewy shower curtain around my lathered body and screamed and screamed.

"Surprise! It's Room Raiders!!"

I continued screaming.

"Now get in the van!!"

"Aieeeeeeee!"

The muscle tried to grab me and I pushed past them into the living space. My mind was racing! Oh crap oh crap oh crap. In just a few minutes some girl is going to inspect my room for compatibility and stacks of cash. I need to throw anything incriminating out the window before the crew tackles me!

To be continued!

Newsblitz! MTV Hates YOU!

2005-02-01T12:28:00.000-05:00

MTV wants to give you 100 bucks to enrage and humiliate you on national television while they rake in hundreds of thousands in advertising!!! The following are actual posts by MTV on Craigslist. The last one horrified me.

You bring your girlfriend to the hardware store for a quick errand but when you get to the store the girl working there is all over you. She’s super hot like the “Tool Time” girl and she keeps using sexual innuendo with you about getting “nailed” and “drilled” and she’s completely ignoring your girlfriend!!
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/tfr/57851057.html

Do you have an impatient female friend that you've always wanted to set up on a blind date? What if you set her up with a nice guy who turned out to be a crossdresser?!? Would she flip out? If so, let's get her on TV!
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/tfr/57796399.html

Your friend comes to our salon for a bikini wax. While she’s sitting in the waiting area our actress sits down next to her. The actress tells your friend that she’s never had a bikini wax before – she asks your friend tons of annoying and personal questions until your friend freaks out on her!!
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/tfr/57511608.html

You tell your boyfriend you got him a spa day to get his back waxed. Then while he’s sitting in the waiting area he hears howls of pain coming from the waxing room. Suddenly a guy runs out with no shirt on, screaming, with a strip of wax paper hanging off his back!!
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/tfr/57511943.html

Couples This Is For You! Museum Madness! Prank your BF on MTV!
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/tfr/57332399.html

You tell your friend you got an amazing offer to get your make-up done by a world-famous make-up artist. Then, when your friend shows up to get her make-up done, it turns out the make-up artist just had eye surgery and can barely see! She makes your friend look like a ridiculous clown!!
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/tfr/57085686.html

Do you have a boyfriend that has a temper? What if you told him to pick up a piece of engraved jewelry for you and when they got it- it was the wrong engraving? AND THEN THE SALESMAN DENIES THAT THERE IS ANYTHING WRONG!?! Would he freak out? If so, let's get em' on MTV!
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/tfr/56454612.html

Eat a fetus on MTV!!! Prank your BF!!
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/crg/57962229.html

Positively Opposite Review - Mission Accomplished!

2005-01-31T14:03:00.000-05:00

Best yesterday ever! Mission accomplished!! I was reminded of those triumphant moments that litter human history like the Berlin Wall coming down, the liberation of the Auschwitz concentration camp, or Neil Armstrong walking on the moon! Iraq’s election was just like all of those… right?!

Let’s face the single most important fact about the war. George W. invaded Iraq so that Iraqis could vote. Period. After all, these are the first elections since the last ones! Iraq has been jonesin’ with an election erection to vote for almost 4 years. Can you imagine waiting that long?!

Yeah yeah, we need to quash the insurgency. Yeah yeah, we need to rebuild Iraq’s infrastructure. Yeah yeah, we need to stop eyeballin' their quadrillion dollar oil reserves and focus on domestic issues. We can do all of that later, Debbie Downer. What’s important now is that we outfit the senior citizens who volunteer to run their board of elections with flash grenades and assault rifles so that they can fire back on rogue assailants lobbying deadly mortar shells!

Time out--who ran in this election? Doesn’t matter! Who should I have voted for? Doesn’t matter! Will Democracy plunge Iraq into whatever is the opposite of anarchy? It’s possible! Voting is the paramount issue right now. Stop making sense. Iraq, America decrees that you must feel what it’s like to have a ruling party that half your citizens detest. And so it shall be!

The fixed results may not be known for weeks or even months. But we can all rest a little bit easier knowing that Puff Daddy got out the inner city Baghdad voters, MTV amassed the young suburban Tikrit voters, and Michael Moore’s inflammatory documentaries convinced everyone everywhere to stop stuffing so many falafels down their pieholes lest they wish to become big fat lard-faces.

On a scale of 1 to 10, the Iraqi election isn't a Scud missile that errantly crashes in the desert. It's a Tomahawk strapped to a 10!!!

Bizarro World What Ifs

2005-01-28T15:00:00.000-05:00

What if... instead of running a faucet to cover up the sound of pooping, you had to make pooping sounds to cover up the sound of a running faucet?

What if... instead of fast food workers asking how they can help us with their food, we ask fast food workers how we can help them with their lives?

What if... instead of "anti-lock brakes" being a great safety feature on a car, "brakes that can't stop locking up all the time" were great?

What if... you were really dying for a cigarette but instead of living on Earth where smoking a cig is okay, you lived on Saturn's moon Titan, where smoking a cig would blow up the whole world?

That's all I got.

I've obtained a spec script from the set of Boyfriends, the spinoff of Girlfriends

2005-01-27T14:08:00.000-05:00

Scene 1: In the boyfriends' apartment. Looks exactly like the set of Friends but with a large poster on center-stage wall of Marcus Garvey.

(Horse Faced) Boyfriend 1: Man, it's so hard being men of color and living in this urban area.
(Horse Faced) Boyfriend 2: It sure is, boyfriend.
Boyfriend 1: Just the other day I had a moment where someone was racist to me.
Boyfriend 2: No Way! Me too.
Boyfriend 1: I’m glad we’re boyfriends. We can relate to each other's class struggle. Know what I’m sayin'?
Boyfriend 1: Yeah. Hey, do you have smoke in your eye? Why are you looking at me like that?
Boyfriend 2: No, this is just how I look all the time. (Zooms in on smokey eyes)
Boyfriend 1: That's cool. I'm going to start doing it too. (Camera cuts from one boyfriend to the other as they practice smokey eyes)
Boyfriend 1: Have you heard that new rap album?
Boyfriend 2: No. That's the difference between you and me. You're into rap music and I'm into smooth jazz. It's weird how we can be such opposites, yet we're still boyfriends.

Enter (Horse Faced) Boyfriend 3

Boyfriend 3: Heeeeyyyy boyfriends!!!
Boyfriend 1 & 2: Boyfriend!

(They all hug and whinny)

Boyfriend 3: OMG, the most racist thing happened to me today!
Boyfriend 1: Tell us!
Boyfriend 3: I was on the bus going to work, minding my own business. Suddenly, this gang of white people come up and tell me that I’m sitting in their seat!
Boyfriend 2: Oh, boyfriend. I’m so sorry. What'd you do?
Boyfriend 3: I shot each of them in the head.
Boyfriend 1 & 2: You go, boyfriend!

(Hugging and whinnying ensues. Cut to commercial.)

From the Webmaster: Click here for another script obtained by the winner.