Tuesday, April 13, 2010

I have a smart phone

Hey. Yeah, you. I see you. Trying to check out my awesome phone, huh? I can't say I blame you. Hell, if I were you, I'd probably be doing the same thing. But I'm not you, so keep looking because it's the closest you'll ever get to this bad boy. This puppy is on fire. Not in the literal sense. I don't condone puppy violence. Or fire. But this phone would even make me change my mind. This metaphoric canine is ablaze.

You better believe it's smart. Like Einstein. I've heard Einstein grew up with a learning disability. I don't know if it's true or not, but if it is, then this phone's nothing like Einstein.

Wanna see a cool trick? I thought you would. Check this out. Yeah, that's right. I press the button and the number instantly appears on my screen. Amazed yet? What if I did it again? Bam.

Hold on there, perfect stranger. You ever see that show? You remind me of Bronson Pinchot. Can I call you Balki?

Listen Balki, this phone isn't for nubies. With great power comes great responsibility. I don't expect you to understand, just nod your head a couple of times. That's too many. A couple means two. Two, Balki. Two.

Now here's where things can get a bit out of hand. Let's say I'm like you and have no idea how to use this amazing phone. What if I hit the wrong number? (I wouldn't.) Before you get your knickers in a bunch, calm down. There's a way to go back. You can hit the delete button, the end button, OR flip the front part back. Yes. It FLIPS. Now I must warn you about flipping. If you do so, you are closing the phone. You seem like a reasonably smart guy, Balki. I think you understand what I'm saying here. But there is an upside in all of this. Once it's closed you will be provided the time.

The time. How smart is this phone? Pretty fucking smart.

Where are you going? I haven't told you the best part about all of this. Remember before, when i hit those numbers? After hitting the correct amount of numbers, the phone allows me to speak with people. I know. I shat my pants the first eight times it happened. Shat, Balki. Past tense. No need to edge away.

Or maybe you are scared by the beautiful image on the screen? I can understand that. It's not everyday you get to see such vivid shades of black and gray.

And what, you may ask, is the best part about all of this? Not having any apps or games or a touch pad or having my email sent to me all day is a lifesaver when it comes to battery life. My phone knew that. My phone belongs in Mensa.

Oh, that? That's duct tape. Sometimes the burden of carrying such a smart device can become too much to handle. I'm only one man, Balki. Why is your phone in a protective case? Can't keep the idiot out of the helmet too long before he hits his head again, huh?

Internet on your phone? Youtube videos? Yeah, that's kind of cool I suppose, but I bet you've never heard the William Tell Overture played by a PHONE before. My phone is just that fucking smart. William Tell is probably rolling in his grave right now at the thought of missing this incredible opportunity. Have you ever heard the real thing? It sounds like complete shit compared to this. And all those instruments, who needs them? This is just one phone. One really smart phone. I've also got Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. I use that for special occasions, like when my mom is calling me.

You might say my phone is a genius. If you did, you'd be right. When someone wants to talk to me, my phone knows that and alerts me to this fact.

I'm a busy guy, Balki. Sometimes people need me and I can't answer the phone. You know what happens then? My phone keeps their message for me. To get to the message I need to punch in the correct code. It's all very hush hush. Only I know the code. And my mother. Sometimes I forget things.

Technology is the future, Balki, and don't you forget it. I don't need videos or internet or email or touch or music when I have a smart phone. My phone is smart enough to know that. I have a ridiculously smart phone.

I couldn't help but notice you have that T-Pain app though, mind if I take a look?

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Greetings from a Bus Driver Who is also a Spiritual Advisor

Welcome kindred spirits and namaste. I accept you as part of my journey.

I hope this day of your life finds you in a good place mentally and physically. Eventually, it will find you in Cleveland. I hope that doesn't put shades of indigo and black in your aura. I'm only kidding, I love Cleveland.

As we depart from our destination, please make note that with every ending there is a new beginning. For some this may not be the life they had imagined themselves leading. It so rarely is. This is why it is so important that you take in your surroundings and live for the moment. Enjoy the little things in life for these are the heaven's gifts to you. That is precisely why in two hours we will stop at an Arbys. Present your bus ticket to the cashier and you will get any large combo meal for the price of a medium.

Time is a silly thing we hyper-focus on as humans. We create deadlines and wear watches on our wrists to remind us of this constant pressure. Time should follow us, not the other way around. We have somehow taken advantage of the sun's brilliance and it has lost its luster. As the moon approaches, we sigh with relief that the day has come to an end. And come the next day, we will just repeat this torturous cycle over again. Our spirits are forever moving and should be treated as thus. Time is not our captor. In the event that you are still consumed by time, we'll probably be arriving in 4 and a half hours, traffic and weather permitting.

No matter what you believe, be it Islam, Judaism, Christianity, what have you, we are all constantly searching for life's true meaning. Will we ever be able to answer the question as to why we are here? Why were we chosen to experience things like love and laughter? While on the subject of laughter, the Ben Stiller blockbuster comedy Night at the Museum will be starting shortly. If you wish to watch, simply plug your headphones into the headphone jack on the back of the seat in front of you. Then turn to channel 2.

You may use your cell phone at any time but please try to keep the conversation to a minimum. It can be a distraction while driving. Plus, I'm trying to listen to my GPS and channel Krishna so I don't need any more voices in my head.

There is a bathroom in the back of this bus. Should you need any help at all, press the Emergency button above the toilet and start to speak in tongues. There is also hand sanitizer provided as a courtesy to you.

Thank you for riding with us today and please don't talk to me again. I've just consumed a Big Gulp of Sprite and will be in a tantric state so as to keep the urine in my bladder from collecting. This prevents unnecessary pit stops.

Friday, March 12, 2010


Hey there Internet,

While I still pretend that people read this (it will never get old), it seems I have actually managed to infiltrate the McSweeney infrastructure.

More to come on a later date.

Maybe I'll even get a reader or two....

Just kidding on that last part.

Monday, March 8, 2010

I'm Still Here, McSweeney

Coolio Applies Gangsta's Paradise To Selecting Lean Cuisines from the Frozen Food Section of Target

Coolio enters Target.

Everybody's running, but half of them ain't looking. Man, this place is crowded.

It's going on in the kitchen but I don't know what's cooking. They say I gotta learn but nobody's here to teach me. I guess I'll just stock up on microwaveable dinners again.

As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I take a look at my life and realize there's nothing left. Was there a sale or something? There's practically nothing here and quite frankly, I'm starving.

He approaches the Lean Cuisines.

Got my ten in my hand and a gleam in my eye. Alright, so $2.00 a Lean Cuisine, that makes 5 Lean Cuisines altogether.

Classic Five Cheese Lasagna or Lasagna with Meat Sauce

Will five cheeses really satisfy my craving? How can I be sure five is the right number? What if a person stops tasting the differences by the third cheese? Can one really identify all five cheeses between those noodles? I can't say for sure I even know five cheeses. Parmesan, mozzarella, cheddar, feta--Do I really want feta in my lasagna? And what if American cheese is in it? Then the whole thing will just taste like American Cheese. Hell, it's not even a real cheese so I hope it's not in there. Does this pasta just exemplify my hoarding tendencies? Am I to live my life quantity over quality? When is enough, enough? Stick to who you are and play it smart, Cool-boy. Remember, too much television watching got me chasing dreams. Five cheeses, that's just excessive and unnecessary. Lasagna with Meat Sauce.

Baked Chicken Florentine or Parmesan Crusted Fish

Cool-money, wait just a second. What exactly is this fish? Why so vague? Tell me why are we so blind to see. Baked Chicken Florentine.

Bacon Alfredo Pizza Wood Fire Style or Santa Fe-Style Rice and Beans

Cooliosopher, time to put the thinking cap on these dreads. It's true, I'm a sucker for any food with the word style in it. Why eat the real thing when you can have something that's copying it? But let's weigh our pros and cons, shall we? Is anything with fire really something I want to be messing with? Why do they say things spread like wildfire? And how do you fight fire? With more fire, that's how. I bet that's why it keeps spreading. That just doesn't seem safe. And what about the bacon and alfredo? Do you think that will help your high cholesterol? Fool, death ain't nothing but a heart beat away. Santa Fe-Style Rice and Beans.

Vegetable Eggroll or BBQ Chicken Quesadilla

Hold on. This vegetable eggroll takes 8 minutes to cook and I have to cook it on half the power? Cooliotronic, power in the money, money in the power, minute after minute, hour after hour--how long is a person supposed to wait for their meal exactly? This is getting ridiculous, it's a microwaveable meal not a 3 star Michelin entree. BBQ Chicken Quesadilla.

Szechuan Style Stir Fry with Shrimp or Balsamic Glazed Chicken

Dammit, where is the Balsamic Glazed Chicken? Look at the situation they got me facing.

Excuse me, sir? Do you have any Balsamic Glazed Chicken in stock?

Oh, alright then. Me be treated like a punk.

Thank you for trying. That's why I know my life is out of luck, foo!

Szechuan Style Stir Fry with Shrimp.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Is my failure really the best source of content for this blog? You Betcha

McSweeneys 3...

When the Evil Leaders of History Met to See an Off Broadway Show

Castro: Hurry up! The show is going to start any minute!

Stalin: Our seats are not going anywhere.

Castro: Maybe if SOMEBODY didn't have to stop to get a McFlurry, we
would be sitting in the front row right now instead of these shitty

Hitler: Seriously? How many times do I have to apologize to you? You
didn't see me complain when you needed your smoking break. Stop being
a little bitch, Castro.

Stalin: More like Fidel Castrated.

They high five.

Mussolini: You guys want raisinettes?

Hitler: Hey, Lenin, switch seats with me.

Lenin: What?

Hitler: I get the aisle seat.

Lenin: What? You're too far, I can't hear you.

Hitler raises his arm and points. He screams.

Hitler: Aisle!

Ahmadinejad: Hey, guys, sorry I'm late.

Hitler: Ahmadinejad, I took the liberty to arrange our seating in
alphabetical order by last name. You're sitting next to--

Ahmadinejad: Whatever, I think I'm just going to sit next to Kim Jong-il.

Hitler: Why do you always refuse to acknowledge my hard work?

Castro: I'm so happy we are finally seeing The Fantasticks.

Hussein: Why couldn't we see Blue Man Group again?

Pol Pot: I've seen it 20 times. Plus, it was sold out. This is
supposed to be a classic.

Hitler: Ugh, Churchill is here. That's gonna ruin the whole night.

Jong-il: Shh! It's starting.

Mussolini: Am I going to eat all of these raisinettes myself?

Monday, February 22, 2010

McSweeneys Failed Attempt 2

What Email Has Taught Me
(Disclaimer: I am fully aware this is awful and therefore have no ill will toward McSweeneys or am even the least bit surprised this did not make it. K thanks, love you)

My penis is small

Personal blogs don't count as writing experience

I have been chosen by a group of Nigerians who desperately need my help.

Apple thinks one of their products would make a great gift for any
occasion ever to have existed in the history of occasions existing.

Cialis_Viagra_Ritalin_Percocet_Adderall!!! (I am not certain if I am
supposed to buy these things or merely be excited that they can exist
between underscores)

I had no idea my penis was that small.

Live girls want to dance for me (so much better than those dead ones.
But an interesting take on marionette nonetheless)

If an email is really important, I can put a star next to it so it can
get lost in the rest of my emails and never be seen again.

If you delete an email, you still have it in your trash. You must
then go into the tab "trash" where an electronic dumpster awaits with
your garbage. At this stage, one must press delete again. It will
ask you if you are sure you want to delete the message. I was almost
positive I wanted to delete it the first time around, but now I'm not
so sure.

Google really understands me. While composing this list, GMail has
suggested: Tickets to India @ $499, I Defeated Fibromyalgia, and Jason
Mraz Lyrics. I feel loved for the first time.

GMail has its limitations. No matter how many times you type
"titties," "boobs," "blowjob" and "anglefish," it will not suggest an
aquatic porn site.

If the correct equation of looking at your email while sipping coffee
slowly is applied in a work environment, your boss will not notice you
slacking off.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

One of my many attempts to get on McSweeneys

Abraham Lincoln delivers The Gettysburg Address to the cast of The Hills

Four seasons and seven minutes ago your fathers brought forth on this network, a new television show, conceived in a crack den, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are not created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure this bullshit. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of this beach house, as a final resting place for those who here gave their relationships that this piece of shit show might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate - we can not fornicate - we can not rehearse - this beach house. You fucking idiots, living but I mostly wish were dead, who struggled here, have defecated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what you little shrivs have to say, but it can never forget what you did here. It is for us the viewer, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished mind games which you spoiled twats who fought here have thus far so un-nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that from these shallow plot lines we take increased devotion to that cause for which you gave the smallest measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead relationships have completely, 100%, died in vain - that this television show, if there is a God, shall have a new birth of freedom - and that this show of the moronic people, by the moronic people, for the moronic people, will perish from the earth. Heidi, you look ridiculous.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Hey Internet, Long Time No See. Did you lose weight? You look amazing

It seems as if I once had a blog that nobody read and then I became incredibly lazy and stopped updating the blog nobody read.

That should change.

Update: Check

Nobody Reading: Check

Feels good to be back.