Sometimes I Don't Mind

Okay so I’ve been meaning to do this for two weeks and with only week until Chicago it’s time to pull the trigger.

I’ll pick someone that I’ll buy a beer for in Chicago at CHSH for the best Muppet tweet.  Not going to Chicago?  Kiss someone’s ass and I’ll buy it on behalf of someone attending. 

So here’s the deal.  I have three “Twitter Celebrity judges” who I will announce shortly.  Between now and 9:45 Central post your best #Muppet tweet (that’s one hour).  We will all be doing a search.twitter.com look for that hashtag.  If we pick your tweet, I’ll buy you one beer (or wine, or mixed drink) when I am there.  If you aren’t attending Chicago, I’ll buy a beer for the person of your choice.  If that doesn’t work, and you’d rather have an FF or something, well that can be arranged.

Good Luck!

I hope the list SPORTS-DRUNKS means I’m like a Mickey Mantle of Twitter, and not that fat, drunk guy with his shirt off in subzero weather—although reality points to the latter of the two options.

There are approximately 10,000,000,000 different models of automatic drip coffee makers on the market and every single one of the goddamn things leaks when you pour a cup.  Within five milliseconds of pouring that very first cup of delicious wake-me-up juice, it looks like disease ridden amoebas have been splattered all over the kitchen counter.  And it isn’t like you can just fucking lick it up if you use bleach on the counter like I do.  No, you have to get a fucking paper towel (or use your tie) to wipe the mess up.  It’s a total waste of time and resources.  I bet if you tabulated the cost of all the millions of dribbled coffee pours in all the homes and offices in America, you’d have enough to feed all those starving kids around the world and have enough money left over to go to one of those medium priced casual all-you-can-eat Chinese buffets and eat yourself into a diabetic fucking coma on the soft-serve ice cream machine.  No coffee dribbling is maybe the nicest compliment you can give to the smug fuckers at Starbucks.  Just for saying that, I’m going to have to cut my arm with a goddamn paperclip to feel something positive again.

Brewing coffee has been around for centuries and I bet Ben Fucking Franklin had coffee leaks on his counters, his glasses and his merkin.  Hell, he probably had syphilitic coffee sores.  Look, we’ve had the same basic coffee pot design for nearly a century and no one has found a way to eliminate this problem?  I call bullshit.  The Nobel committee is in Sweden.  It’s cold and dark there and they have nothing better to do there than drink coffee, throw on reindeer skins, listen to death metal and generally be more attractive than the rest of the European population.   How about we give the next Nobel Prize in peace, or economics or chemistry (I don’t fucking care) to the person that can design a pot that doesn’t leak?

As last night’s rant, but I did go off on a tangent about share buttons for today’s work blog.  If you are exceedingly bored, you might find this a hair funny.  A Raucous Cacophony of Sharing This of this as the boring stuff that comes between my F-bomb rants.

You young kids with your Tumblr, you don’t know how good you have it.  Back in my day, if I wanted to share my emotions about the latest Cure single, I had to ride my bicycle to the library, on a 55 mph highway with no bike lane, WITH NO HELMET, and pay 10 cents a goddamn page to photocopy my zine (please send a self addressed stamped envelope)!  And forget LOL Cats!  Do you know how fucking hard it is to add a caption to a picture in the Bank Street Writer?  You can’t because it didn’t handle graphics.  No, you had to fire up GeoWorks on the Commodore 64 and swap 5 ¼ floppy discs 8 fucking times just to get to the graphics program.  Then you were inevitably out of cyan on the printer ribbon for the Okidata dot matrix printer!  You had to give up three weeks of comic book allowance money just to get a new one.  That’s right, no fucking Avengers for you buddy boy because you wanted to print your stupid-ass zine.  And none of these emo hearts.  No instant feedback.  If Bigmaceater69 in Tulsa didn’t like your zine, they’d just throw it away because there was no fucking recycling.  That’s right, no one cared about your zine or the goddamn planet back then.  Just throw it away with the Alexander the Grape wrappers and the empty cans of Crystal Pepsi.  It’s enough to make a grown man hide in the garage with a bong and a case of Old Milwaukee because that’s all we could afford after buying that new printer ribbon and paying $8500 (adjusted for inflation and a child’s imagination) just to print one zine but it didn’t matter because that 10 fucking cents a page was only for black and white!

Fiona and I went to see Paul tonight starring Nick Frost, Simon Pegg and Kristen Wiig.  Here’s the short of it:

If you are a fanboy of Simon Pegg to the level of the fanboys he plays in his films, you will be disappointed.  If Shaun of the Dead or Hot Fuzz is in your top 10 favorite films, just rent Paul instead.  Although it isn’t a bad film, it isn’t a particularly good film either.  It just kind of is. 

Observations:

1. No offense to the people that made Superbad, but this film really needed Edgar Wright.  I think we’ve become very accustomed to Pegg and Frost’s writing combined with Wright’s very specific method of visual storytelling.  The quick cuts and quirky sound effects were missing, and their loss hurt the film.

2. Kristen Wiig was really fun and there was chemistry between her and Pegg, but that could have been played out more in a far more interesting way. 

3. Jason Bateman was totally wasted in this film.  Only once or twice did he really get to do that fast paced somewhat foul banter he’s so good at.  I feel this role was an opportunity missed.

4. I just don’t get why Bill Hader has to be in every comedy.  I think it would have cost less to have an unknown play this role and it would have had the same effect.  He didn’t really do anything entertaining per se, it was like his role in Adventureland.  It just kind of was.

Compared to every other film in Hollywood, Paul is a solid B. Compared to Spaced, Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, Paul is a C.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to change my Twitter avatar any time soon.  However, I think I need something new for Tumblr.  Any suggestions for the avatar that encapsulates the ridiculous notion of a Flyover Brand for Tumblr?

Genius!

My wife is marking the deck with Cheetos fingers and I wouldn’t trust Gilesmarie with a baby because when we were playing cribbage she kept forgetting about the crib.

So I am worried the internet is going to cook and eat Fiona and I based on how Gilesmarie is trying to fatten us up.

…with FlyoverFi to eat pizza at Gilesmarie’s house. I assume there will be Tumblring.

Also, well will decide the cribbage champion of the TCFU crowd.

….I really hope she likes my panda boxers.