portmanteaus are rad. and, if "blog" is my favourite, "sexting" is the runner up. for those of you who don't watch the culture war segment on "the o'reilly factor," sexting (sex/texting) is primarily when gals sext their boyfriends pictures of their naked private parts through cellular text messaging. of course, the only reason the mainstream media knows this phenomenon exists is because the randy recipients always, i mean ALWAYS show their pals. this is what guys do. girls haven't quite figured this out yet. we're peacocks, we preen, we brag, we blog. heck, even i've been made privy to more than a few of these pics from my friends' girlfriends. and, from what o'reilly tells me, sexting is especially rampant in our high schools where sally sophomore will sext a pic to her boyfriend and, the next thing you know, naked pics of the entire junior varsity cheerleading squad are being shared on every teenage boy's computer in a hundred mile radius. i'm not sure what's worse; the fact that i may someday have a teenage daughter or that i missed this trend by ten years. ummm, it's the latter... duh.
while i reluctantly acknowledge all the rage that is blue toofs, i've discovered yet another use for them aside from distributing them to the homeless. no matter how hard i fight it, the general hoi polloi insists on utilizing blue toofs as fashion accessories or accouterments. so, why not use this retarded trend to benefit the handicapped - namely the deaf. see, for the past however many years, we've been designing hearing aids to be smaller, less conspicuous and more resembling small fleshy, calcified growths. with all that blogged, wouldn't it seem obvious to place the same technology inside the bulkier, flashier and trendier blue toofs? no one would even know you were deaf! depending on their proclivities, people would either assume you were merely rockin' a blue toof or were simply an a-hole. surely both alternatives are better than being viewed as handicapped, right? and, technologically speaking, wouldn't the size of a blue toof allow for better technology and hence, product? since society has decided that blue toofs = cool and hearing aids = lame, let's give the deaf a break and let them be cool. then, enough deaf people will be wearing blue toof hearing aids to the point where blue toofs will consequently become lame by deaf association. in short; the cool dude blue toof wearers lose, the deaf lose and who wins??? ME!!!
ba dum BLOG!!!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
ba dum POD!!! episode 2: ba dum PODder has no game aka "the date from hell"
as i boldly plod on from blogging to podding, i'll be taking a shot at reviving the popular "ba dum BLOGger has no game" series in the form of a pod. this week's fill-in, guest star in this ambitious venture will be my colleague, my carpool buddy and friend; kelly rapp aka "kelly #1." i believe the female voice and perspective will provide a softer and more reasonable touch to my self-loathing, self-aware and self-serving ramblings. and, as always, producer dave is sitting in to maintain that ba dum POD's!!! sound and picture quality is up to ba dum POD's!!! highest standards... not to mention, his usual offerings of snark, sass and superciliousness (jerk!).
ba dum BLOG!!!
editor's note: ba dum PODder needs to stop laughing at his own jokes.
ba dum BLOG!!!
editor's note: ba dum PODder needs to stop laughing at his own jokes.
Monday, May 18, 2009
ba dum POD!!! episode 1
whoomp, here it is! episode 1 has been podded and is now available here for your listening pleasure/displeasure. this week's fill-in guest star was my best, good pal lee mcdole and we covered topics ranging anywhere and everywhere betwixt pedophilia, violence against women, ethnic cleansing and afghans. it was a bit of a struggle and i think there's room for improvement. however, it could also get a lot worse. with that blogged, there are oodles of moments i wish i had back where anologies or metaphors i made didn't quite work or i just flat out used the wrong word (sooo embarassing) but podding is a bit diffrent than blogging in that sense. also, big ups to producer dave for getting this pod up and running on the online machine and, if you experience any technical difficulties, please let us know. thanks again, podcasters!
ba dum BLOG!!!
editor's note: i am not producer dave.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
ba dum POD!!!
exciting news!!! i'm going to blog a very special announcement which will be revealed in the very next sentence i blog. ba dum BLOG!!! will be launching our very own weekly podcast, aptly titled, "ba dum POD!!!" and, if my producer can get all the sundry technical shizz together, we will debut ba dum POD!!! sometime this week. OH MY OMG, I'M SO F'N EXCITED!!! we're also working on lining up a sponsor (fingers crossed for taco bell) and i'm just being told by my producer that he's booked pope benedict xvi who will be plugging the new moving picture, "angels and demons." oh, and if any of you are interested in being a guest on ba dum POD!!!, just let me know and we'll set something up. you don't even have to come to the studio either, my producer claims we can do it via your cellular telephones. so, get your pods ready because ba dum POD!!! will be coming to an online machine to download or whatnot near you...
i'm not gonna say that everyone who has tattoos are kinda lame, in a way, but i'll blog it. of course, there are exceptions to this and i have a few very dear friends who are tatoo'd but... yeah, just that. anyway, tattoos, in part, signify three of my least favorite traits: confidence, sincerity and decisiveness. also, you can't bring up or question someone's tattoo without getting wrangled into a horribly awkward and serious conversation about what the tattoo means to them. on a similar tome, this last friday at work, a guy was sporting a t-shirt adorned with a screen printed pic of his deceased mother. of course, everyone just had to ask him who the picture was of when, being the friday before mother's day, it was ridiculously obvious. i, for one, refused to acknowledge it and even went as far as to literally crawl 'neath my cube, amidst pangs of embarrassment, whenever anyone else brought it up. it's just such a cloyingly saccharine and self-important gesture. or, maybe i'm just a horrible, cold person with no sense of family or pathos. back to tats! i just can't imagine getting a tattoo, myself, and staring down at it every other day without uttering an exasperated, "ugh." i mean, you wouldn't wear the same shirt or fanny pack everyday so why would you want the same lame design perpetually stained into your skin everyday? i hate three out of every five articles of clothing i buy so this just seems like an impossible situation. oh, and don't get me started on girls with tattoos on their boobs. i find this to be more socially and aesthetically unacceptable than sporting a hitler moustache to your girlfriend's sister's bat mitzfah.
during my high school years, i remember tales being told in, and out of school, of the occasional girl joining their school's wrestling teams and thus, forcing young men into the lose/lose situation of being matched against her. i mean, could you imagine being a knock-kneed, pubescent teenage boy being forced to violently rub up against a girl with only a thin piece of a sweat stained, spandex singlet separating you from her nubile body all whilst a crowded gym voyeuristically watches this "wonder year's-esque" episode unfold? i mean, what if you lost? what if you won? what if you got a boner??? pretty awful, huh? au contraire mon fraire! as i look back at this all-to-real scenario, i only wished i would've had the foresight to join the wrestling team for just the off chance of this occurring. see, i went to all-boys high school and i had more physical contact and meaningful conversations with the lunch lady than i had with any of the gals down the street at the all-girls school. if i could've had just three minutes of flopping around on the mats with some monstrous tom-girl it really could've wet my beak and got my groove going so i wouldn't be so terrified of girls... a terror that plagues me to this very day. heck, come to think of it, even that kind of physical contact with a dude could've really benefited me. i mean, if you closed your eyes and pretended really hard, what difference would it make?
look, i aint no goy... i'm quarter jew and proud of it. see, my paternal grandmother is jewish and, when the subject is broached, i'm often rebuffed by these snooty yentas snottily making me aware that "the jewish lineage only passes down through matrilineal descent." that's meshuga and everyone knows it. if your dad's mother is chinese, then you're chinese and if she's jewish, you're jewish. we're not talking about magical, tribal, "chosen people" poppycock - judaism doesn't circumnavigate dna like magellan around the globe only to be slaughtered by filipino savages. you can be a jew without ever setting foot in a temple or spinning a dradle. any time a group of peoples share common physical traits, it's an ethnicity. for example, you can tell if a person's chinese because they'll often have slanty eyes and a big, round face. likewise, a great deal of jews have big noses and long, horsey faces. now, i have neither of these traits but a good looking jew is still a jew. then again... i'm funny, riddled with anxiety and love noshing. see, i barely even know my grandmother and i've magically developed all these jewish traits. whether this has transpired through blood or osmosis from watching hours upon hours of "seinfeld," "curb your enthusiasm" and woody allen movies, i am jew... hear me kvetch.
ba dum BLOG!!!
i'm not gonna say that everyone who has tattoos are kinda lame, in a way, but i'll blog it. of course, there are exceptions to this and i have a few very dear friends who are tatoo'd but... yeah, just that. anyway, tattoos, in part, signify three of my least favorite traits: confidence, sincerity and decisiveness. also, you can't bring up or question someone's tattoo without getting wrangled into a horribly awkward and serious conversation about what the tattoo means to them. on a similar tome, this last friday at work, a guy was sporting a t-shirt adorned with a screen printed pic of his deceased mother. of course, everyone just had to ask him who the picture was of when, being the friday before mother's day, it was ridiculously obvious. i, for one, refused to acknowledge it and even went as far as to literally crawl 'neath my cube, amidst pangs of embarrassment, whenever anyone else brought it up. it's just such a cloyingly saccharine and self-important gesture. or, maybe i'm just a horrible, cold person with no sense of family or pathos. back to tats! i just can't imagine getting a tattoo, myself, and staring down at it every other day without uttering an exasperated, "ugh." i mean, you wouldn't wear the same shirt or fanny pack everyday so why would you want the same lame design perpetually stained into your skin everyday? i hate three out of every five articles of clothing i buy so this just seems like an impossible situation. oh, and don't get me started on girls with tattoos on their boobs. i find this to be more socially and aesthetically unacceptable than sporting a hitler moustache to your girlfriend's sister's bat mitzfah.
during my high school years, i remember tales being told in, and out of school, of the occasional girl joining their school's wrestling teams and thus, forcing young men into the lose/lose situation of being matched against her. i mean, could you imagine being a knock-kneed, pubescent teenage boy being forced to violently rub up against a girl with only a thin piece of a sweat stained, spandex singlet separating you from her nubile body all whilst a crowded gym voyeuristically watches this "wonder year's-esque" episode unfold? i mean, what if you lost? what if you won? what if you got a boner??? pretty awful, huh? au contraire mon fraire! as i look back at this all-to-real scenario, i only wished i would've had the foresight to join the wrestling team for just the off chance of this occurring. see, i went to all-boys high school and i had more physical contact and meaningful conversations with the lunch lady than i had with any of the gals down the street at the all-girls school. if i could've had just three minutes of flopping around on the mats with some monstrous tom-girl it really could've wet my beak and got my groove going so i wouldn't be so terrified of girls... a terror that plagues me to this very day. heck, come to think of it, even that kind of physical contact with a dude could've really benefited me. i mean, if you closed your eyes and pretended really hard, what difference would it make?
look, i aint no goy... i'm quarter jew and proud of it. see, my paternal grandmother is jewish and, when the subject is broached, i'm often rebuffed by these snooty yentas snottily making me aware that "the jewish lineage only passes down through matrilineal descent." that's meshuga and everyone knows it. if your dad's mother is chinese, then you're chinese and if she's jewish, you're jewish. we're not talking about magical, tribal, "chosen people" poppycock - judaism doesn't circumnavigate dna like magellan around the globe only to be slaughtered by filipino savages. you can be a jew without ever setting foot in a temple or spinning a dradle. any time a group of peoples share common physical traits, it's an ethnicity. for example, you can tell if a person's chinese because they'll often have slanty eyes and a big, round face. likewise, a great deal of jews have big noses and long, horsey faces. now, i have neither of these traits but a good looking jew is still a jew. then again... i'm funny, riddled with anxiety and love noshing. see, i barely even know my grandmother and i've magically developed all these jewish traits. whether this has transpired through blood or osmosis from watching hours upon hours of "seinfeld," "curb your enthusiasm" and woody allen movies, i am jew... hear me kvetch.
ba dum BLOG!!!
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