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Wednesday, April 21st, 2004
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I'm always thinking about the little things that we take for granted on a daily basis. Of course we know that every day new technology changes our lives, but nowadays the developments are coming so fast that it's easy to forget about the way life used to be.
Not even going back that far, I think about things like television and motorized vehicles. How could people have lived without them. It seems so different, because my generation has grown up trained in the fact that these are parts of our lives.
Let's go back a few more years and think about life before indoor plumbing. It seems beyond comprehension, so animalistic to have to relieve oneself outside, not just drunk and pissing on somebody's face who's passed out in the bushes, but all the time.
In the dead of winter, plodding out to a little shack to sit in the cold, the only light coming from the moon beams seeping through the stereotypical crescent moon cut-out in the door of the outhouse.
How could people have put up with it, it seems barbaric. But it was part of people's lives, it had been a way of life for ages. But it was all they knew, they didn't have any other frame of reference.
This always gets the wheels turning, and I think, what parts of our daily everyday life, will future generations someday look back on and say, "How could they have lived like that?"
It seems like all the good things have been invented, that it would just be easier to continually make things that already exist better. But there are still huge ideas to be had, that will make some of out current activities obsolete. I think about this because I'm interested, but more because I'd like to be the one who invents this ground-breaking life-changing device.
Well let's not stray too far from the chosen topic, I can easily see a future descendent of mine looking back and thinking, how vile it is that their ancestors actually had to come into contact in any form with their own fecal matter.
I've never really been real big on bathroom humor, or talking about the disgusting details of human waste, so I apologize that I'm even bringing this up. It is silly that I have such an embarassed aversion to matters of the bowels because it is a part of everyone's lives, but that only fuels the thoughts "What if it didn't have to be?"
This is probably not a new idea, not unique in it's creation, but it's something I've thought of since I was a little kid. When will the day come when we can just press a button and be cleared of colon. No more sitting with a newspaper, no more toilet paper, no more toilets.
Something so clean, easy, effective, painless, instantaneous and neccessary. Full separation from the animals.
The Jetsons never really got into this particular area of discussion but they did have robots performing the rest of their grooming and hygiene needs on that moving airport converyor belt, so I can only assume, since we never saw George in the toilet, that they had since moved on from using such primative means of human bi-product disposal.
Of course I have no answers, and perhaps there are engineers and scientists tucked away in a secret government compound perfecting such a machine as I sit here and type.
There is of course a movie coming out on a similar topic starring Jack Black and Ben Stiller called, Envy, where dog poo is sprayed with a substance and it magically disapears. Now that doesn't have all that mcuh to do with my vision, but it is good that people are thinking.
So, I'll keep thinking and you keep thinking and maybe someday, instead of using the John, or the Crapper, our grandkids will use the Danwho to get clean and emptied.
Kids, you better hit the danwho button before we leave, it's going to be a long ride before we get to another emptying station.
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, April 20th, 2004
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I'm actually quite glad that I wasn't able to sleep last night.
I was watching Comedy Central and happened across three episodes of Strangers with Candy and then one of Upright Citizens Brigade. I used to love both of these oddball shows. Both shows have this strange, love it or hate it type of dry witty take on the most ridiculous situations.
I just recently bought my brother the Strangers with Candy first season DVD and watched most of it during spring break. The show is a hilarious satire of after school specials and "very special episodes" of teen dramas that stars Amy Sedaris, Paul Dinello, Greg Holliman and Stephen Colbert (Daily Show).
 I liked the show, I loved Colbert on the show but my favorite character was the father who was always in some sort of frozen state as if he were dead and been worked over by a taxidermist. I know some people are turned off by the rubber-face of Amy Sedaris's character Jerri Blank...which is funny because she is actually quite pretty but has an uncanny ability to mold her face on cue.
I hadn't realized that the show had a cult following, but it was well recieved by people in the industry and boasted a list of guest stars including: Winona Ryder, Janeanne Garofalo, Paul Rudd, Will Ferrell, Tim Meadows, Andy Richter, Bebe Neuwirth, Mark McKinney, Cheri Oteri and David Cross. And I am excited that the there is a feature length film in pre-production, including the original cast and Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker.
 I hadn't seen UCB since they got cancelled about 5 years ago. The Upright Citizens Brigade is a comedy/improv troupe, the four main members which are Amy Poehler (SNL, Wet Hot American Summer) Matt Walsh (Daily Show, Old School) Matt Besser and Ian Roberts.
Tonight's episode was the Little Donny Disease, one that focuses on raising awareness in order to find a cure. Little Donny Disease is of course called magnimus- obliviophallocytis in medical circles and concerns little boys who have penises the size of a horse, but are oblivious to their condition. I really can't believe this show aired in primetime in the late nineties, i mean it is cable, but can they really get away with smacking another unwilling man in the face with a humongous penis and screaming that a little borderline retarded boy is a pussy?
I'm sure if this was the actual straw that broke the camel's back and led to cancellation, but I know that near the end of the series, as part of their Little Donny bit, the UCB got into the crowd in front of the large floor level window during the live broadcast of the Today Show. I'm sure that the cameras that pan the crowd have since been put onto a delay, but at that time it was all done live. And Matt Besser equipped with his enormous strap on dildo hanging limply from his tiny shorts started jumping around for the cameras.
I think I heard that story on Opie and Anthony, the best radio show ever cancelled more than once, hell the best radio show I've ever heard, the only radio show I would've quit my job if I couldn't listen to in the afternoons at least twice a week, hell again, the only radio show I've ever made any effort to listen to more than once.
Opie and Anthony was running a gag that if any woman was able to flash her breasts on live television during the Today Show crowd pan, they'd give her like a grand of something. This of course is unthinkable after the SuperBowl but if O&A hadn't gotten the FCC axe years ago they would have gotten the axe way before Howard Stern's nuts even smelled the chopping Block. Getting people to have sex in St. Patrick's cathedral live on the air as part of a contest where people have sex in public places of differing degrees of security for points is apparantly not cool with the fascists at the FCC.
Kevin Baker visited JMU monday on his way back from VaTech. So hi kevin.
I added an icerocket search button on the side there, look over, yeah you see it? Good, it'll be there when you need it, so use it. It's not just another search engine. This one is not sponsor driven and is run by Ryan Perry and guys like him, so for that alone, do it now, search it up.
But in the future, like when you're reading my site and you want to fact check me, so you can rub it in my face, go ahead, search it up. And when I neglect to leave u satisfied, only giving you the facts that make me happy, and you are laying there wanting more, then search it up. And say you were at my site and wanted to waste some time, you could type danwho in the box and you guessed it, search it up...voila back to my site, bet that killed a good 15 seconds.
Yeah I figured that the box on the side was too far to go all the way over to. So for this post, I'll let u search from the convenience of the update, but from now on, you're going to have to use the one on the sidebar.
:For just $10, the price of a Holland Tunnel hand-job, you can help little boys like Donny and their gigantic penises.
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Friday night Scully, Courtney, Asian Lyndsey, Maureen, Joy, well all the girls (I don't know who had creative control) threw a toga party in Foxhills. I took one of my soft as a kitten black sheets and prepared to dance to my hearts content.
This update is coming straight at you for three reasons, none of which is that I am in the mood to write or that I have much to say. Reason 1 is that I wanted to show the picture that Abigail so graciously took and put on her webshots. Reason 2 is Joey Stylez and I spent a good deal of time talking about toga parties as a genre and I wanted to put up some of his ideas. And Reason 3 is that I'm not doing anything particularly interesting right now.
Now I noticed as did some of the others present that Joey Stylez was not in a toga, Mike assumed it was because there wasnt a posh velvet type toga that would be excuse the pun, stylish enough. But Joseph actually was acting on moralistic reasons. Well actually morals have nothing to do with it, but he was still making a stand of some sort.
We talked in depth about the toga party and he came up with some interesting points. Perhaps back when in 1978 when Animal House came out, a toga party was a wild idea, but as far as he was concerned times have changed. "Changed?" I said, you mean "Carter isn't in the white house anymore?" Then he slapped me for being fresh.
The point he was making is that at a wild Animal House toga party it was a break from the norm of furry brown sweater turtlenecks, and there was sure to be some flashes of skin and wildness. Now not that all that has disapeared from today's toga parties, and I still had a great time dancing and scrapping it up, but the idea is not quite as risque as it once might have been.
Todays college landscape is awash with girls wearing very little just as soon as that first nice day hits in the season. That outfit that has been in their closet for the past few months just stares at them and says "I dare you to squeeze into me, bitch."
And it's not just the girlies going crazy, when that first ray of sunshine shines down on a gorgeous day, just about everyone loses their minds like they've been in Alaska and the dark season just ended. "what's this brightness in my eyes? How come my skin is getting warm? I must have a fever and be delirious again with another winter cold...oh snap, it's sunshine, i had forgotten. Time to run through the streets and yell from the open windows of my passing car at anything that moves."
What I'm saying is on any normal day, walking around on campus, girls are whoring it up, wearing next to nothing, tight little shorts, the backs of which look like a two year old drawing flying seagulls, swoop-swoop...halter-tops...see through shirts...thongs and wet t-shirt contests right in class...its anarchy, and I'm not complaining.
Back to Joe's position, you can't walk five feet without hitting a dress-to-screw party, fredericks of hollywood party, no-pants party and now he's trying to get excited about people wearing sheets, many of them over regular clothes. He just had a hard time getting behind a premise where one throws on a sheet tightly around the collar and down to their ankles. And the idea is that togas are like dresses, which is a step backwards from what he's used to. That girl was wearing tight jeans and top, not incredibly revealing but tight, drape some sheets over her and we're into Islamic fundamentalist territory.
While I agree with some of his ideas that were well presented and good points, the biggest flaw in this line of logic is that a toga party is a fun theme party, where people get silly and it isn't always about the sex. And it was greek weak so it wasn't out of place.
Hey but maybe it's just me, as much as I like looking at slutiness, I can see it anywhere, so I might prefer a good creative costume party 8 times out of 10. 80's parties, and other theme parties are fun becuase of the theme, the creativity that goes into the costumes, not the sexiness involved. Christ If i was trying to get laid I wouldn't have dressed like a druggie punk circa 1980, Groucho Marx, or Boy George.
Personally, as soon as I got into my boxers and draped a sheet over my shoulder I just felt like dancing, I wanted to dance the night away. And isn't that the appeal, that if just one person really feels it, then its all worth it.
:The time has come for someone to put his foot down. And that foot is me. (Animal House).
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Well baseball is in full swing, I'm lucky that the Yanks are such a draw that they get on ESPN as much as anybody, but since I'm in the VA area, there are an over abundance of Orioles games on television that have to satisfy my craving for the national past-time. During the Orioles home opener a week or so ago, Cal Ripken Jr. spent some time in the announcers booth to promote his new book, called 'Play Baseball the Ripken Way: The Complete Illustrated Guide to the Fundamentals.'
He's officially on the book tour now, so get to your local Barnes and Nobles and visit the Iron Man if you get a chance. The book most likely embodies everything noble about the game, and will serve as a worthy guide to young potential ballplayers in training.
Not to be undone, or ignore a chance at some fat cash, former baseball slugger, and all around eyesore, Albert Belle is working on a new book as well. It's still in development, but I was able to get my hands on a sample treatment that was leaked by some sloppy photocopy intern.
 -Chase the big money. Team loyalty doesn't pay for Hummers with hottubs in the back.
-Take the day off. Bench yourself when you're not in the mood.
-Throw some weight around. If the manager tells you that he's moved your spot in the lineup, make a scene and throw a chair, storm out of the clubhouse and go straight to the media. They can be your biggest ally when you need to cause some problems, but don't you dare trust them.
-Don't tolerate other people doing their jobs. The media is like a buzzing bee always hovering around you, if they aren't helping your situation at the time being, sometimes a good profanity laced tirade will shut them up.
-Get indignant about every call that isn't in your favor. I mean really get into the ump's face, each and every time, make him see the capacity for murder in your eyes, maybe you'll get the next call out of fear.
-Feel free to retire on a whim. Don't let "obligations," "responsibilities" or "legal contracts" make you think twice about taking the money and running.
-Jog, don't sprint for fly balls. Then maybe they'll let you play DH. Remember once you've signed that fat contract, and your agent made sure there was no stipulation that you have to play both offense and defense, why not get paid the same for half the effort?
-Swing for the fences everytime. Ignore the signs from the dugout to sacrifice bunt or hit and run.
-Patience is not a virtue. I don't know who started that rumor. Don't stay up at the plate all day getting into full counts and fouling off all kinds of pitches, if you can just hit one out of the park or miss three real quick and be back on the comfortable bench in no time.
-Let the other guys call for the ball when fielding. They probably want it more to make themselves look better, cuz damn they can't hit like you.
-There is a 'me' in team. You can either care about teamwork or care about inflating your individual stats. And teamwork doesn't increase your value in the free-agent market.
-The basepaths are for two things: home run trots and take out slides. Sending the fielder of the opposite team to the disabled list is a bonus.
-Winning baseball games isn't all that important. If you're getting paid and getting laid, who's the winner anyway?
-When the going gets tough, the tough demand trades.
-Pete Rose bet on baseball and he was great. You want to be great too. Am I saying betting on baseball makes you better? We'll I'm still experimenting with it.
-RBI's equal cash. Only really try your hardest when there's runners on. Why break your back when no one's in scoring position.
-Refuse to play in All-Star games. But if you don't get selected, blame your manager, blame the fans, blame the players, blame Jesus. Never let them see you taking responsiblity for failure. Accountability is weakness and weakness does not make money.
-Baseball players are not responsible for being role models.
-Suspensions are like vacations. Don't be afraid to collect your share.
-The season is too long, learn how to milk injuries for as many games as possible. Only bother really playing hard for roughly 80 games, just long enough to get the stats up.
-The Contract year is the only thing that matters.
:He's a two-year-old. He changes his mind every five minutes. (John Maroon, The Sporting News...July 4, 1994 on Albert Belle)
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Wednesday, April 14th, 2004
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 This is marty, get a good look ladies...men? He called me tonight junkied off his rocker...junkied is a word for being drunk that marty created sometime in highschool when a few of us were drunk laying on my front lawn looking at the stars smoking marlboro reds, yes we were cool kids...I wasn't being sarcastic, so don't you be mocking either...you can click the picture for a gallery of some of my favorite marty shots, many of which were taken by Ryan Gilligan, who's birthday was yesterday, give credit where due.
The point is I love marty, he's a great kid, he takes a great picture, and I really do enjoy hearing from him, so i was pleased when he IMed me and among the amalgamation of letters that probably looked like words to him, i comprehended the basic idea that he was gonna call me. I knew the conversation would get loud and laughter would abound, so being considerate of others and knowing that hush, hush, keep it down now, voices carrying, I put on some clothes and prepared to go outside. When the Baseball Tonight theme song that has been my ring tone for the past year or so started to play and loudly, I hurriedly went outside.
It was about 3:30 at this time and I had already tried to sleep unsuccessfully since 1:30 and had gotten up to waste time online, as is my latenight, can't-sleep, all-too-often ritual....So I was happy to have something to do and the conversation with Marty was hysterical as always...I had hoped to remember some of his hilarious drunk comments to maybe put into an away message or write about, but I've since forgotten most of it and explaining the stream on conscious type ramble of the conversation's context would take up too much of your precious time.
The real reason I started writing this was that because of my hurry to get outside before waking up the neighborhood, i neglected to bring anything with me except the phone. When my conversation with my buddy ended, I was therefore left outside in the misty darkness without means to get back inside my damnable dorm building. I didn't have my JACard to swipe into the building, I didn't have my car keys to get into my car, and I didn't have any money to walk anywhere of worthwhileness.
I tried all the doors, of course none of them were currently broken, and it was 4:30 on a wednesday morning so there wass no foot traffic to piggyback on. None of the lights in the windows were on so I figured I was spending the night, cold and damp outside. I could've called someone and woken them up, but Karthik's phone is always on vibrate at night and he never answers it if he's asleep. The only other two phone numbers I have of people in my building is my suitemate KB, who was also fast asleep and Chad, but he just shipped out for Iraq...good luck buddy.
But speaking of our troops, about and hour and a half into my pacing, sitting, standing, shivering I was rescued by the military. God Save the Military. I spotted two beacons of American pride walking out of my dorm in full camoflage fatigues, right on time at 5am for PT. Hooray for their rigorous schedule of regimented early morning exercise. The military science and ROTC programs at JMU have done their part for danwho once again. I took the military science leadership lab class freshman year and got a B for playing paintball and repelling off an 8 story building, we dressed in full fatigues and the coolest boots ever. When the class was over we were allowed to keep the undershirt which is my favorite shirt that I own. So there's that. I'm floundering...I'm done.
housecleaning:
| Narcissism | If you are half as infatuated with me as I am, theres a new photo section for your viewing enjoyment. | | Smithappens.com | Turkey Sub escapes daily, check out smithappens | <td width="100" align="left">LastStory.com</td><td align="left">TomJonesPants dotcom was reviewed and favorably, by Last Story, sex bomb city</td></tr>
A promise is a promise...
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Saturday, April 10th, 2004
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listen, i say listen alot to start off, but this is something to listent to, I was pleased as say punch to present that last little update with the toasters, i really must love myself to an unhealthy degree to be that sickly obsessed with myself, but hey I got a laugh, and remember this, I do this for ME, i don't evn know u buddy.
yeah u guessed it, this is a drunkpdate and in the words of Piyum Khatibi, who might as well be me, "I'm hammered and I'm going home for the night" see thats funny, cuz i left my phone at smit, james, piyum and steves and then smitty called me and piyum who had gone home picked up and pretended to be me and said that sentence, but i was at the same party as smit but just on the balcony...open ur eyes, smattdog.
hey this not about me being drunk or being in love with you, and I AM, listen you know it's true, don't fight it, just kiss the screen and I'll feel it....this is about a mmouse.
 this mouse, to my knowledge has never ridden a motorcycle, but is still the coolest mouse I've ever met. EVER. and I'm a mouse connnousoiuree?
The story begins, well I wish I knew the origin. But hey I don;t, deal with it. But enter me and smith-appppenssssss walking from one apartment party back to the homebase for some playing cards and some of my yeungling and amberbocks...enter a mouse, white as can be, white as virgin snow, white as powder, not like a pale granular substance, but more like the albino character from the movie of the same name.
this mouse is scared, probably from some trying ordeal that we can not even fathom with our feeble human minds, he's trrembling and not moveing much, nibbling on grass blades. Me and smitt stare at the mouse like its a beacon from heaven for a good minute. The mouse makes nary a move. Smitty runs home to get some sort of container, my job is to track the mouse's progress.
The mouse, realizing that it was now ONE on ONE, and that his foe is the less than fleet-footed D.Who, takes off into the parking lot, I run and put my foot in front of its path several times to get it out of the line of fire, I'm yelling commands at the silly monster to stay away from the possible travels of motor vehicles, but to no avail. this mouse it a moron... or is it? Jump to conclusions much?
The mousey babey is smart, as Smitty returns with an empty oatmeal box and solo cup, the little critter hides under some cars. I'm sprawled on the asphalt tracking the movements of the white devil under the cars, as he circles the tires of several cars knowing that we can't catch him so close under the treads of the black rubber road grabbers, u like that phrase? I do.
Me and The Smatrick each take a side of the vehicle that he/she is currenlty quivering under, trying to force him to make a decision to bolt one direction or another. Eventually he goes towards the middle of the parking lot, where the cars pass through, the danger zone as kenny loggins would have said. Smitty, equipped with solo cup, traps the defenseless rodent in its tracks, saving it from possilbe death.
Back to the abode we go, mouse in tow. I clean a large glass pickle jar with some water and thoroughly dry that sonofa-recycled-ragu-jar. We introduce the frightened mouse into the jar, humanitarianly bringing along a bit of cheese to feed that old stereotype. The mouse shit the solo cup several times as well as pissing its weight. I'm sorry mighty mouse, do not be afrightened, we love you.
We agree to leave the large, I MEAN LARGE, pickle jar on the deck, without a cap, and to check on the mousey in a few hours. Out we go, and fastforward like 3 hours and we're back sucker. We've told the mouse story to everyone. James and Shaun come back with us and want to see the mouse. The mouse is not in the jar, the jar is upright, not like it got knocked over. What did Piyum do when he came back, earlier? This is crazy. And there in Smitty's ratty old shoe on the deck is Mr. Modest Mouse. You silly slut, how did you get out of a jar three times your size with vertical glass walls and a negative beveled lip of a top edge? You are one crazy character, One mouse worthy of partying with the big boys.
So now we know the mouse's whereabouts, in the shoe, let catch the little bastard. I'm still bewaildered, we all are, how he got out of the jar...enough. it's on the loose. get it, catch the mouse, kill the pig, drink it's blood...I;ve got the conch.. sorry....the mouse in a frenzy of adrenaline decides that James is the devil, and that it can smell freedom.
Using the great sense of smelll, jerry the mouse sniffs the air and decides that we are probably, most likely, only one story off the ground....that's right he went for it..but he was decieved by his nose it was three stories to the ground....a tenthousand times your height drop without a parachute is worth the risk if your only other option is being the pet of us stupid fucks. He jumped it...like dukes of hazard, time went SlowMo for the jump and it was a sight to see. The folks I was with spotted the landing area and I took off downstairs with a solo cup.
This time the mousey had no more fight left, he was wore the hell out, probably still in shock from the sky dive and I just scooped him up right quick. He seemed healthy and was still moving in the cup I carried up to the apartment. I met a man on the way up, who's opinion may not be expert, but he said he once had a pet mouse that died of fright, and maybe we should let him go in the wild.
We did some research online and it said that the biggest problem with lost baby mice is dehydration and that we must hydrate the mouse as its mother would by rubbing warm water in a cotton ball or on our fingers directly on the mouse's private parts. Now that's hilarious, but dead serious. We were not down for that however.
Private parts still dry as the Gobi desert, he still got the four and half star treatment, in a huge bucket equipped luxuriously with his favorite, smit's shoe to sleep in, a dirty cum rag james demanded on contributing, some lettuce, some cheese, some oats and a dish of water...which the mouse greedily sucked down, hydrate sucker, hydrate.
So let's hope the mouse lives through the night, and doesn't climb up the bucket sides and escapes, i bet to jesus he escapes, he's got like webfeet like spiderman suction, it was dumb not to cover his habitat...I mean how'd he get out of the pickle jar?
[Editor's note (4/12/04): He did escape that bucket, but hid in the other one of Smitty's shoes, so he is alive and well and becoming more and more domesticated, well as far as mice go in the domestication process, I guess, stop hassling me....He's now got a nice new cage with a wheel, food and his favorite, a cardboard toilet paper tube...His name is Turkeysub, named primarily from the large little girl from School of Rock, but also lets say cuz I love sammiches and I love him and of course because it's funny to say. Turkeysub...Hahahah...goodnite, you're welcome on the update].
"I've said what I'd said and you know what I mean" (modest mouse).
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Thursday, April 8th, 2004
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 Hello, hello.
You know what commercial I see a lot? The one for Mercedes that features pictures of people posing with their mercedes. The end of the commercial says "Nobody ever poses with their toaster."
Admittedly, I watch my fair share of television but during southpark, chappelle's show and the daily show yesterday the commercial aired over 8 times. And then again twice during the part of Letterman that I watched. So chances are you might come across it, or even the related microsite.
well losers, I don't have a Mercedes, but I do like toast on occasion.
So here is my answer to that ad spot.
[the video is best viewed in a medium sized window for clarity]
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"...and it has a cancel button in case you don't want toast."
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This afternoon mr Ryan Gray and I tipped back some High Lifes and watched the Final Four games at his place, then ended up stopping at Relay For Life and picking up Shaun and Ed to watch the second half of the Duke/Uconn game at Bdubs.
Speaking of Final Four hoops... University of Connecticut star, Emeka Okafor is a transvestite, well no maybe not, but he's a pretty man. Slap a wig on him and a little lipstick and thats a nubian princess I'd be proud to take home to the rents. Even with those heavy eyebrows, I think he would still make a sexy momma and I respect a heavy eyebrow in a man.
Speaking of eyebrows... maybe Emeka can lend some to his teamate Chuck Villanueva, the Uconn frosh from New Jersey's Blair Academy, the guy is the definition of mexican hairless. Ryan was calling him Dinosaur Jr. and compared him quite comically to Phil Hartman's SNL character, Caveman Lawyer. Ed also made the slip of referring to him loudly as a cancer patient while we were at the Relay for Life Cancer Benefit...which could have brought up bad memories for some.
Speaking of Memories...watching final four action with Ryan Gray reminded us of last year, and if you've followed my career closely, you might know what I'm talking about: [drunk blur of a weekend featuring the Final Four and Wesley Willis during MacRock, etc.]
Speaking of the Wesley Willis concert... I feel a flashback coming on, one of Mike and mine favorite drunk flashbacks, that i only vaguely remember but he reminds me about regularly.
| (scene: Dan at in concert crowd smoking a clove in the College Center Ballroom)
-You can't smoke in here.
(belligerently drunk) Who the fuck are you to tell me I can't smoke in here?
-I'm security working here
Oh, in that case... (puts it out on the rug). |
Speaking of potent Quotables... Kevin Branson not only made me laugh with this gem, but also took great pains in defending his position: "Janet jackson is humble, and as an actress she's top notch, she's nice, she's nice." Janet is hosting SNL next week so brace yourselves for some, by now past their prime, exposed breast jokes.
Speaking of SNL... I got a chance to catch Donald Trump hosting Saturday Night Live and I laughed like little baby with a bottle of Nitrous Oxide and a Dave Chapelle stand-up DVD. I'll spare you the play by play because I am unable to recall what was so funny, but in summary, Trump isn't even close to being any sort actor but did ok in the fact that he was playing himself in nearly every skit. well I was laughing through the whole episode minus the last two skits, but maybe sober viewers thought it sucked.
Speaking of uncontrollable laughter...The only thing I remember well enough to mention is a skit called Fathers and Sons, where Jimmy and Horatio were a loving father and son, and in typical fashion couldnt get through a line without laughing, which is awfully predictable and unprofessional but always makes me laugh. It seems that the point of the skit was for those two fruits to just laugh it up and sometimes turn their chuckling into crying...
Speaking of fruits... Karthik spent near the entire episode peeling a grapefruit because it needed to be completely clean of something? ducts? canals? i don't know, but something more intricate than just removing the rind. Then he wanted to watch Swingers, which is of course a classic, but he fell asleep immediately.
Speaking of Swingers... thats funny that Thikness wanted to watch it, because Matt Keown, you know him you love him, your favorite Matt Keown, called me several times tonight to tell me that he was calling 411 for LA and NYC trying to find listings for celebrities. He got a lot of dead ends, wrong numbers, mistaken identities and answering machines and he thinks he got Jon Favreau's answering machine and left a long drunken embarrassing message.
:Randy Newman?
-Yeah just sits there all night and day, singing about what he sees |
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Thursday, April 1st, 2004
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For the few of you who actually clicked through my mini-joke mindlash home page and got here I applaud you.
If you're reading this after April 1st and you completely missed it, you can see the faux-front-page here.
To be honest, I know i put the joke up a day too early and i realized that I had a few hours after it was done and instead of taking it down, I decided that it could be part of the joke to be on the 31st and the 1st instead of just one day.
Like any good holiday it should be celebrated up to a month ahead of time, but has to end the day after. So I should not be berated for starting the joke too early
I figured that people would be more willing to believe i really wasn't paying my bill and be less skeptical of the joke if it came a day before fools day. And it may actually take two full days before more than a handful of people actually click on the details page and get the joke.
I mean I am broke, but I'd sell semen before letting this baby die if I can help it.
So it's actually April Fool's Day today...i love it and yet I rarely ever pull any real pranks, but I hope someone does, and i see it, cuz I like it and it makes me smile.
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Tuesday, March 30th, 2004
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Listen I'm gonna shoot you straight here, I wrote an update a few weeks back about my obsessive compulsion to collect DVDs and never throw away magazines, the post is an abomination and is scrapped at least for now. In the story I mention that I get Blender magazine but never care enough to read it. If there is a photo spread I flip through it but if I ever get my mind set for reading its usually a novel for a class and if I have time for a magazine it's never Blender, but the subscription was free so I'm not complaining. The reason I'm telling you about this is because I made a photo about sad little Blender, unloved and ignored on the island of misfit toys and I felt like finally using it.
So i decided to flip through this past month's issue of Blender to find something to write about so I could use the photo and I came across a short interview with Johnny Knoxville. Let me preface everything with the disclaimer, I am judging public image and careers, not people, I don't know these people from holes in the walls.
Johnny Knoxville can currently be seen in Walking Tall with the Rock, is starring in the next John Waters film, and is set to star in the next Farrelly Brother's film among a few other upcoming roles. On top of this he's just started his own record label, named creatively enough Johnny Knoxville Records...the label only has one recording artist, which is conveniently enough his cousin.
I don't like Johnny Knoxville, I can't for the life of me understand his appeal, I don't know where he came from exactly but I wish he would go back. There's just something so tacky about him. I was a big fan of Bam Margera and the CKY videos back when they first came out and I was a kid who liked to make mischief and spent a lot of time skating, badly, don't be fooled, I never got any good. When the Jackass humor exploded onto MTV, I'm not going to pretend that I tuned out right away, I was a little rabbit nibbling up all I could get, But I never liked how Johnny Knoxville seemed to leech his way into the limelight of the series when his only contribution was hurting himself, anyone can do that, masochism is not original.
Bam and the CKY guys were talented at something at least, the crazy stunts were offset by their skating and biking prowess. And they were funny, creative, original guys...of course their humor can get tiresome after a while too, when it seems they are trying too hard, but they weren't like Knoxville.
Knoxville only participated in gross out stunts involving shit, someway of injuring himself, or some sort of painfully planned out stunt for shock value. Lighting yourself on fire for less than 10 seconds, after being prepped by professionals and consulting doctors, while in a fire retardant suit, next to a pool, with an expert armed with an extinguisher present, is not incredibly interesting Johnny. That's an amateur attempt at stunt-man work and it's not funny or shocking but yet an actual profession.
Not long after the mainstream Jackass explosion it was ruined for me. That type of cheap humor gets old and fast...When the mainstream masses are copycating things that were only funny because they were creative, then its time to hang it up. And I'm not talking about the copycats that hurt themself, in fact one of my friends lit himself on fire and of course something went wrong, enter some hospital time. He's ok now so we can laugh and laugh, and then shake our heads sadly.
To be honest, I did some of the CKY type stunts and things, some new ideas and some copycat, but when it was fresh, when it was still new and crazy, before MTV. When I still see kids, years after Jackass has been on MTV, still thinking that they are the coolest kids alive after videotaping crashing a shopping cart into a bush, I just don't get it, do people not have any creative moral standards? I don't mind that style if it's your thing, just think of something new to do.
So I'm past it, turned off by it but I doubt that I'm very much more mature. But I don't hold any ill will against the guys involved, but Knoxville is soured in my mind because he never did anything that interested me in the slightest and here he is reaping the rewards, gotta say good job for his agent I guess.
Creativity should be rewarded, not Cliche...but then again Johnny Knoxville seems to be doing ok without any original ideas or talent, maybe that's his draw with fans.
:I'm a coward by nature (Johnny Knoxville)
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so this is what i've come to, when I'm bored and/or pumped full of life for no good reason, I sit at my computer and write stuff down?
 It's a beautiful day here in Virginia, I'm done with classes for the day at 10am, I didn't sleep last night, no good reason why not. I'm full of beans as they used to say, zestfully clean and brimming with a happy feeling and I'm dancing around my room for half an hour trying to think of something to do to pass the time before lunch.
I know I have to study for a test tommorow but this is bouncy time, not study time, plus if I start reading and come down off this adrenaline kick, the lack of sleep will hit me and I'll be out for hours and without lunch, o me or my. The screen, only two or three feet from my face, is blurry as my contacts, dry from extended use, are giving me lip.
I put on my lacrosse gloves and had a toss with myself against a wall for a few minutes on the only wall that I am sure that no one is on the other side of, this wall sadly is in my room and I have to put a pillow over my monitor in fear that an errant ball would smash its flat LCD screen to smithereens. This game of catch soon turns to a series of dances involving my lacrosse stick and then ends. Reluctant to sit this one out but I concede, visibly beaten, and return to my old failsafe time passer, the computer.
Hey lets talk about something, give me a topic and I bet I can ramble on about it, hmm...you're not being very helpful today? Wait is there even anyone here? O man, I have definitely alienated my core audience with my recent half-assed perfomances. Well if you really know me and you really know my site, when things have gotten stale, it usually takes one of these boring emo-esque ramble catharsises, pardon me, catharsi, to open the flood gates of creativity and get the kid rolling again. Stick with me, the goodstuff cycles on and off like an athlete on steroids.
:...I'm going to quit while I'm ahead.
-You're not that far ahead...
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Before Christmas I had bought a few semi-gag gifts to throw into the white chinese auction gift swap that was being done among friends. I left for home before the actual gift giving, in order to get ready for florida, and was subsequently left with a test-tube of bubbles that harden when blown instead of popping, a soft fluffy ball shaped chicken that made bawk bawk bagawk sounds when you hit it and a 5 dollar DVD of something called Pingu, the adventures of a claymation penguin. (hahaha harden when blown, i just got it)...
I finally got around to watching the DVD tonight and truly had a Super Troopers moment laughing in the dark at the incoherent flickerings of my television. I was laughing way too much for something so terribly not funny. Had I been under some sort of influence, my behavior might have been justified but I was quote 'sober as a bird.'
This Pingu program contains no actual talking, at least not anything I could understand. But it's not like Charlie Chaplin/Mr. Bean/Mr. Bill funny or anything, I assume it's just a kids program that is described on the DVD case as 30 minutes of fun with the charming and cheeky penguin.
The language Pingu speaks is nothing more than a series of squeaks and mumbles and the occassional honking noise, so it must be gibberish but it sort of sounds French. His parents definitely speak in a more traditional word and sentence format that I can only assume is French-ish even though the back cover says that everyone in the village speak Penguinese a universal language. Apparently Penguinese is mostly laughing, honking and French mumbling.
 The "thirty minutes of fun" consist of Pingu hanging out with a mentally retarded seal, arguing gibberish with other baby penguins, helping his father deliver the mail on his route of an exhausting five residences, playing tennis with a fish instead of a ball and acting as penguin-boy-servant to an elderly organ grinder who seemed like a typical child-penguin-molester.
Evidently the creators thought so much of this project that they couldn't be bothered to create a DVD menu, because when the DVD loads it goes right to the cartoons and then when it ends it goes right back to the beginning again, no menus in sight. The back cover says award-winning but within the claymation continuity errors abound, things appear where they werent before, but who wants to nit pick?
However the Pingu website is surprisingly well done for such a shoddy franchise. And the theme song is short but quite sweet, french children sing to a uptempo beat:
"meennp meeenp, Pi-Pi-Pi-Pi, Pi-Pi-Pi-Pi, Pingu, Pingu."
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Ok, I meant to get to this after spring break, but you know thats how much I care about you, that things like this can just go untended to, stagnate and die. Lets try and get it's heart pumping again, clear.
This is only one problem that I have with Atkins, and its take-over of the American food landscape. But this post is not about Atkins, its about Mayonnaise. yeah Patty Mayonnaise, moron. i'm so sorry, thats what i first thought about too.
Over the break while preparing and consuming one of many many sammiches I noticed a nice big red circle on the mayo label. Hellmans has the audacity to advertise on their jars that their mayo has 0 carbs as always. So what? If you're trying to lose weight, maybe cutting down on carbs is a good idea...but the answer does not in any way involve mayonnaise.
This is the main problem with Atkins, people are so carb crazy, that any food that is not high in carbs is being adverstised as Atkin's friendly. Friendly is nice, i like friends, but 1 teaspoon of mayo has 100 calories and 11 grams of fat...Now as a guy who has been lucky enough thus far to be thin and have a high metabolism, these numbers don't mean anything to me, but it doesn't seem like its good for dieters trying to lose weight.
This Atkins crap is so out of control and consuming everything in its path like a wild fire and people are just stupid enough to think that Mayonnaise is healthy. Here's a little help, its not. Lets examine the contents: Soybean oil, whole eggs, vinegar, water, egg yolks, salt, sugar, lemon juice, natural flavors, calcium disodium EDTA (used to protect quality). That shouts health conscious to me.
Now I was thinking, who the hell thought of mixing these ingredients together, looked at it and said that looks good, lets eat it. Well when they grabbed a handful and glommed it down they must have felt sick, right? So who decided to stick with it and just spread a little on a sammich? And if this is the recipe for mayo and it has stuck around for such a long time, were their earlier prototypes that were less edible? And what must those have been like?
 Actually all the answers can be found here if you're so inclined.
The Hellman's jar also lists their trademarked properties, which include the name Hellman's, the slogan "Bring out the Hellman's, and Bring out the Best" and the blue ribbon. So Hellmans has the rights to blue ribbons, so watch out sucker unless you want to get sued.
And as if to further divide the east coast and west coast, Hellman's is sold as Best Foods Mayo west of the Rocky mountains, The same corporation packages their mayo under the Best Foods label instead of Hellman's. So for anyone on the west coast reading this that doesn't know what Hellman's is, just pretend I said Best Foods
"Doug decided that after all Patty really wasn't the one for him. and Skeeter was" (x).
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Listen, baby, I know I haven't been giving you my full attention lately. It's not fair, and I'm kinda sorta sorry...No don't hit, listen to me, I would be more remorseful if I wasn't so nuts about this new attachment. I didn't mean for it to happen this way, and I couldn't think it would be fair to ignore you any longer without some answers, you deserve that much....No, you deserve so much more, you're right, but this is something I have to do.
I'll understand if you never speak to me again but I think I have the energy to devote my full attention to you and maybe see my Goomah on the side. Thats not good enough? Well that's going to have to do. You knew the deal when you got involved with me, you've seen webmasters before me, lose interest and entertain themselves elsewhere, but you still wanted all that I could give you. I'm not trying to turn this on you, but I've seen you making eyes at some other sites, and if they weren't located out of other countries, they'd be toast.
 The fact is this, I've had this sideproject that I've been working on only for the past few days, its not unusual for webmasters to take side projects, all the greats do, and even some schluubs like me get the urge to dillute what little genius they have, and spread themselves thin, and put their eggs in too many baskets and then they're like where are all my eggs, i can't find that blue Robin's Egg, and who the hell ate my Cadburry Cream Egg?
It's like Eddie Vedder kept working on Pearl Jam but teamed up with members of Soundgarden to form Temple of The Dog. They had a hit or two, but fizzled quickly. That's what I'm thinking, but really I'm full of hope thinking this new site will be bigger than anything ever in the world. woohoo
Well the new site is called TomJonesPants.com and came out of nowhere after I listened, really listened to some of Tom Jones's songs, most specifically Sexbomb. Tom Jones is famous for his voice and his tight pants, he's an icon for Las Vegas and a lust filled sexual predator. The site originated as a bit of a joke of a fansite, even though I have recently become a crazy obsessed fan, I'm still just joking around. But the sky's the limit. There is no real author, anyone can write for TJPants and I hope you do. Right now we are accepting any stories about tom jones, but the future holds unlimited possibilities.
My hopes is to have TomJonesPants DotCom be a mecca for writing of both factual and fictional natures. The subpages are not yet finished, but most of that for now will consist of Tom Jones fan stuff most of which can be found by clicking the TomJones links at the end of the Navigation bar.
"Listen, occasionally you might learn something."
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Thursday, March 18th, 2004
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its been a while since my last drunk update, and as I've been drunk all day I thought I would go for it.
hey it was st pattys today, I bet you needed me to tell you czuz your a moron. moron. Hey guess what I went to class in the morning and then I around 12:30 was drinking in Fox Hills. We were driving golf balls into a huge net and the un-explored woods respectively and drinking like Irish Fishes, Karp? Bass? ahahha Basss. Yes.
loaves and loaves of Irish Soda-Bread flooded the party as people ate, drank and were pretty much merry. Me and Luis started up a game of Wiffleball in the parking lot which eventually ended up as a huge girls versus guys battle Royale. Girls got 5 outs and guys had to bat one handed with a beer in the other hand. Goostuff.
Mike was in style in his kilt, throwing the daniel patricks day bash. Hwere are we now? well fast forward, I leave with Smitty, wait no I beat Shaun in Skins in Tigre Woods, no big deal, it was close, hes the man still, but it happened why wouldnt I tell you what happened. I'm in the truth telling business.
Ok so I leave and I'm playing NBA live 2004, I'm the KNicks and I'm in the Finals game 3 against the Mavs. I'm up 2 to nothing, yea for me. So I play a half and then watch Around the Horn and PTI. Then I finish the game, I win, and oooops look at the clock its time for class, my three hour macro class.
 I go to class, visibly inebriated, I stumble in the door, not so dramatically, but late, damnit I'm late. Now someone was in my seat. My fucking seat, so I'm like a dear in headlights just standing, well maybe swaying, I'm drunk shutupayourface.
next move is to survey the room for a chair, not so much luck, so the teacher is now been interupted and now he decides that he shoudl disturb my quest for a chair. An exchange took place that would normally be quite embrassing which caused the class to laugh at my expense.
So he says something like can I help you, Which is justified, I'm sure I seemed out of place and he doesnt know me as we only meet once a week, I explained that I wanted a chair, and he said something about me being late and I got a bit more flumaxed in my drunken stupor and asked if I should leave, and he said that I should go, it would be best since I had already disrupted the class.
So great, Well I probably wouldn't have made it through 3 hours or economics drunk off my ass, but I was gonna give it a shot, and I got as far as I could. So then I went back to party and told the story, hit some golf balls and drank much much more.
"if i was outside, i would just find a comfy bush, ans sleep ther" (mike).
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Wednesday, March 17th, 2004
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My middle name is Patrick, I'm a little bit Irish. Sounds like cause for celebration. Next round of drinks is on me...hey well actually I'm a little strapped for cash so maybe eveyone should buy their next beer themselves and I'll owe you each individually.
People say, you're not Irish, whats with this whole Irish out of nowhere dan? I'll tell you, I'm mostly Polish and Italian, more Polish than Italian, but as most of the major players on my Polish side of the family are deceased, we only celebrate Italian traditions and spend all the holidays with my mother's side, because my grandfather came over from Italy.
 But my grandmother is mostly Irish, and a little English and German. So there you have it I am 1/8 Irish and was actually named after my Irish great grandfather.
So at least one day a year I have an excuse to acknowledge my Irish heritage and give props to great grandy with nice cold one. I can't be any worse than the rest of the fakers, who just like-a the booze
"And a one that isn't cold, is barely a one at all" (strong bad).
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Tuesday, March 16th, 2004
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Check out the newstands, flip through some magazines, and ask yourself a question. What does the teeny-bopper magazine YM stand for?
 Maybe you already know. Maybe I'm a loser for not knowing, but then you're the one with the subscription to YM, not me...good for you, loser. I apologize, I'm the loser, if for no other reason than the fact that I'm devoting several paragraphs discussing this rag.
Anyway, I always thought I knew what it stood for. I was positive that I had heard or read somewhere that the 'zine was called Young Miss. I thought it a stupid name, but figured it had been around since the first days that boys had been deemed cute, way before Tiger Beat came stomping on the scene.
But that's not it, It's not Young Miss, and now another thing that I had rested easy in thinking that I knew has been proven untrue. Maybe they changed it recently, right? Maybe. So what does YM stand for? Well, Yao Ming is getting pretty popular, but not really amongst teen girls, probably not that. How about Youth Movement? No.
How about looking at the subject matter, cute boys and makeup tips. Well then it could be Yummy Men, or Your Make-up. But those are wrong too. Damnit, there are only like two pages in the dictionary for words starting with Y, so this shouldnt be so hard.
Teen girls want to be treated like princesses, so how about You're Majesty? Any of these sound good?: Yawning Malcontent, You're Malnourished, Yearbook Mania, Yanking Monkey, Young Maneater, Your Monthly, Yeast-Infections & Mammograms, Yak Milk.
In Japan, YM is a magazine, bordering on soft core pornography, that features pictures of young girls. It's called Young Magazine, but I don't think the core audience is the same demographic of young girls as the american YM consists of.
Well get this, it says what it stands for on the cover, seems I was trying to hard. YM stands for Your Magazine. Thats it. Click for Proof. It's your magazine, the one for you, your one and only, everything you think or want to learn more about. Thats really a very simple title, but might be a bit on the presumptious side.
See, I'm holding this in my hand and it says it's my magazine, but really thats not all that true. I had nothing to do with production, I don't see dime one from the profits, and when I tried to leave the store without paying I was arrested. Apparantly pointing at the cover was not enough proof of ownership for the police.
"Obviously, doctor, you've never been a 13-year old girl" (virgin suicides).
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When I drove home for my spring break last week, yes just home, (picture me with empty pockets pulled out smiling sadly), I was as I just said driving, in my car and I flipped off a cop.
 Thats the hook, hopefully you continued to the next paragraph, this being that one. So the story goes that there was some asshole on my rear bumper, riding me like he's toby maguire and I'm seabiscuit. I was already flying and I couldn't move over so I just kept speeding up. The light brown mitsubishi eclipse or something was really being an asshole for a few minutes and I was pushing my ancient gray buick to its limits, doing near 90 (my speedometer stops at 85, but the needle disapeared into the dash so I assume it had to be near 90).
Quick note, my car is an '87, and it only has 67,000 miles on it. Sure the odometer doesnt have a sixth digit so if I ever tried to sell it, most people would assume it had reached 99,999 and rolled over, but this is not the case. I know for a fact grandma only drove to church, bingo, and the Elk's club where her seniors group would catch buses for field trips to fudge factories. My dad just bought two cars in the past six months that each had over 80 large accumulated. This makes me laugh. My car was free.
Eventually I was making gestures to the effect of "whoa man, calm down" and after which I got pissed and shot my pesky friend the bird. When I was finally able to get over to let the jerk pass he just sidled up next to me boxing in, and honking his horn. I just focused on the road and ignored the hothead to my left assuming that he just wanted to make nasty gestures at me. Eventually when he layed on the horn I looked over, and sure enough it was a cop in uniform.
He put his hands up in front of him and mouthed the words "Slow Down." And then took off. What? I get off scott-free? really? Maybe the cop was off duty and not undercover, his eclipse didn't have any extra radio antennae that most undercover cop cars have. So continues my streak of never having recieved a ticket for a moving violation.
I speed all the time. Who doesn't. I am fascinated that I haven't gotten a speeding ticket before. The fastest documented speed that I've achieved was 105, driving an Escalade, how about that? You ever drive an Escalade? yeah, well how about over 100 mph? Oh yeah? You owned an Escalade and had it up to 120? You sold your Escalade cuz it bored you? Really? Well I'm embarassed, serves me right for bragging, shown up once again like a chump, like a chump.
The closest calls previous to this old fuck you to the cop have been two warnings, one written and one verbal. Once I got a warning for rolling through a stop sign, no biggie. The written warning is more interesting and came when I had first gotten my license.
Me and Matt were in a quick check and I saw a state trooper and we stood one aisle from him and I started talking about a balloon of drugs in my ass loudly to make sure the cop could hear. We left the store laughing it up and apparantly he followed us. It was dark and he was riding my ass causing me to speed, I don't know how I missed the lights on top of his car in the rearview but I did.
I sped, cut through a parking lot to avoid a light, sped in the parking lot, crossed a two lane highway recklessly and got airborne over the rounded highway and pulled into a parking lot across from the one I had cut through.
The cop parked behind me so I couldn't leave the space and then chewed me out for driving recklessly and making a mockery of his profession by talking about drugs in my ass.
But then still no ticket. No ticket. Visibly enraged that I had insulted him, he let me off even after commiting at least 3 moving violations. Why am I lucky? I can understand on the road in my old buick, left to me by my grandmother, I don't catch the eye of the police. They probably have a hard time believing the car can even achieve speeds that are illegal.
"remember kids, if you're going to smoke weed, be prepared to laugh a lot with your friends" (Strangers with Candy)
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Thursday, March 4th, 2004
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Once again Spring Break is upon us, or at least me and lots of people I know. I'm too poor to go anywhere, I had to fall even deeper into debt with my folks by asking for some gas money to even get home, so thats how little cash I have. But since it's break and my normal schedule and responsibilities get a vacation I doubt I'll be posting for the next week or so.
Chances are, that if you, the current reader, are also on spring break, you won't be reading this anyway. come to think about it, maybe nobody is reading this. If I'm the only one here, maybe I'll get naked and strut around, shouting ethnic slurs, why not, no one will ever know.
- Spring Break isn't actually during the spring, which starts March 21st.
- The expression "Pull yourself up by your boot straps" seems impossibly difficult to accomplish
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Wednesday, March 3rd, 2004
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now this is none of my business, at least not at this time, but lets talk about pregnancy tests. I have no experience in the matter, and I'm thinking if I were to perhaps have gotten a girl pregnant, that she would hold the little tester under her piss, without needing much input from me, but maybe I'm wrong, maybe this is a couple type thing like taking a salsa dance class...maybe its as invigorating and freeing as a swingers social at the local Elk's club, so if I'm way off on the golden shower and little stick ceremony of commitment, then feel free to tell me so.
I was in class today and during some discussion about whether you would choose to know the future if you could, some people asked if you would know everything about the future or just a similar amount relative to the extent that a person knows the present. The professor said indignantly "no you can't have your cake and eat it too, its all or nothing, you're not somewhat pregnant, you either are pregnant or you're not." Which got me thinking about the commercial that I had seen just the other day for a new pregnancy test.
This commercial began with "Now it's possible to be just a little bit pregnant!" Really? What new technology can do nowadays is really remarkable. Well good marketing, you got my attention and I'm not in the market for baby-detecting pee sticks.
 Apparently their are at least two new pregnancy tests available that can detect pregnancy up to four days before you, and by you I mean me, miss your period. Both First Response Early Result and Clearblue Easy Earliest Results test claim that they tell you if you are pregnant earlier than any other brand. I don't know how both can claim such a thing, they can't both be the quickest.
In other fascinating pregnancy test news, their are now digital displays that spell out "Pregant" or "Not Pregnant" which is good I guess, clarity is key, but that signals the retirement of all those generic sitcom jokes about how no one can tell if its one blurry blue line or two blurry blue lines, or a pink colon or a red semicolon.
"Apu + Manjula: [as symbols appear on the tester] Baby ... baby ... oh, lemon" (simpsons)
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danwho's journal