Goodbye and godspeed, Trish

I mostly don't care to admire or idolize people I've never met - celebrities, artists, etc. - but there are a few. Trish Keenan, singer and musician of the band Broadcast, would be one of them. I really adored her. Beyond the fact that Trish and Broadcast made music I listened to literally on most days since first hearing them a decade or more ago, they also opened doors to fascinating new things that I hadn't been exposed to otherwise, from other artists (like pioneering psychedelic groups like The United States of America or Silver Apples) to other forms of media (like old weird obscure movies like Valerie's Week of Wonders and obscure Hammer films to obscure TV shows like The Owl Service). Obviously I'd never met her, but from the music, interviews and videos, I found Trish to be a vibrant, vital, gorgeous and beautifully talented human being. Maybe it is strange to feel personally affected by the death of someone I didn't know personally, but when one considers how personal music can be, and how it can permeate into one's personality, mood - soul, even - maybe it isn't so strange.

I'll still have the immortal music of Trish and Broadcast, and for that I am grateful. Goodbye, Trish.

(Link)

My very first snow

It started snowing while I was at work this afternoon. I put on my coat and ran outside to play in it for a few minutes (much to the amusement of my snow-cynical co-workers). I took some pictures (though I only had my cell phone camera with me).


My first ever snowball! Sadly, I had no one to throw it at.

"My son is gay. Or he's not. I don't care."

This fantastic blog post is by a mother who let her 5-year-old son dress up as Daphne from Scooby Doo and then got shit about it from some idiots. It's a great read. I mean, the utter bullshit people concern themselves with is infuriatingly astounding. And come on, this little boy is adorable.

2010 Midterm Election Results

Democrats/liberals/progressives/actual [old school] conservatives/sane people/reasonable human beings:



Republicans/tea-baggers/neo-conservatives:

Best album cover EVER

Ever Dream This Man?

Ever Dream This Man?

This really creeped me out. I don't think I've ever dreamed of this (though after reading this I may!), but the picture alone is heebee jeebee-inducing, let alone the explanations. I'm pretty sure David Lynch has dreamed of this guy.


In January 2006 in New York, the patient of a well-known psychiatrist draws the face of a man that has been repeatedly appearing in her dreams. In more than one occasion that man has given her advice on her private life. The woman swears she has never met the man in her life.

That portrait lies forgotten on the psychiatrist's desk for a few days until one day another patient recognizes that face and says that the man has often visited him in his dreams. He also claims he has never seen that man in his waking life.

The psychiatrist decides to send the portrait to some of his colleagues that have patients with recurrent dreams. Within a few months, four patients recognize the man as a frequent presence in their own dreams. All the patients refer to him as THIS MAN.

From January 2006 until today, at least 2000 people have claimed they have seen this man in their dreams, in many cities all over the world: Los Angeles, Berlin, Sao Paulo, Tehran, Beijing, Rome, Barcelona, Stockholm, Paris, New Dehli, Moskow etc.

At the moment there is no ascertained relation or common trait among the people that have dreamed of seeing this man. Moreover, no living man has ever been recognized as resembling the man of the portrait by the people who have seen this man in their dreams.

The aim of this website is:
- to help those who have seen this man in their dreams and to foster communication among them;
- to understand who this man is and why he appears in an apparently pattern-less array of situations in the dreams of such diverse human subjects.

30

Turning 30...meh.

Vampire Transformation Spell, $500

On eBay you can buy a "VAMPIRE TRANSFORMATION SPELL~BECOME AN IMMORTAL VAMPIRE." This will cost you about $100 to start bidding, or $500 if you "Buy It Now." (In the previous auction for this item, which was relisted, there were ten available. ) The user boasts 100% positive feedback. Among previous items sold for which he received this positive feedback are Vampire and Warewolf rituals and "immortality potions." (For which he received one feedback comment "Thank you, a rare offer." Indeed.)

Shipping is free.

From the description:

"FIRST OF ALL I WOULD LIKE TO WELCOME YOU TO THIS LISTING. WHAT WE HAVE HERE IS A POWERFUL SPELL THAT CAN TAKE A MORTAL HUMAN AND TURN SHE/HE INTO IMMORTAL VAMPIRE!"

"SO I HAD MENTIONED VAMPIRE ABILITIES RIGHT? OK WELL LET ME EXPLAIN THAT. WITH THIS SPELL YOU CAN CHOOSE YOUR OWN VAMPIRE STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESS'S. SO WHAT EVER ABILITIES YOU WANT YOU WILL TELL ME AND I WILL TELL YOU IF ITS A POSSIBLE ABILITY TO HAVE. HERE IS A LIST OF THE MOST POPULAR VAMPIRE ABILITIES SOME LIKE.

STRENGTH

SPEED

PSYCHIC POWER

INVISIBILITY

TELEPORTATION

IMMORTALITY

SHAPESHIFTING"

Also interesting is that eBay apparently has an actual category for "Spells, Potions."

I write like...Mark Twain?

This site, called "I Write Like," allows you to paste a block of text that you've written, which it analyzes and I suppose compares against famous/popular/iconic writers and tells you what writer your writing is most similar to. So I pasted one of my more verbose blog entries in there, and got this result:

I write like
Mark Twain

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I then pasted a page of text from some fictional writing I've done and got the same result. So. I take it with a bucket of salt; I don't write all that well. But that's a pretty huge compliment - Twain is one of my all time favorites. It's a fun little idea for a site.

Peekaru

This is one of the most hilarious things I've ever seen. And apparently it is not some kind of joke; it is a real product.

Russian numbers station changes broadcast for the first time in 20 years

From Gizmodo: Mysterious Russian 'numbers station' changes broadcast after 20 years. One of my big nerd obsessions is numbers stations, which are shortwave broadcasts, typically of numbers being read aloud (but sometimes various noises, such as musical passages, beeps and tones, and in one notoriously creepy case, a music box). These are assumed to be spy broadcasts. They're damned interesting to me, and quite creepy at times (one ex of mine forbade me of ever playing them in the house). So it is interesting that the station in that article has changed its broadcast for the first time in 20 years. Is something about to happen?

If you're interested in hearing examples of these broadcasts, The Conet Project is an amazing collection of them, which can be heard (and downloaded if you're so inclined) here.

Island guardian needed

All TV shows take place on the same day?

Brain hurts. (Via)

Shrek's...load?

There's something very wrong with this. (But the picture of Shrek there is hilariously awesome when you think about it..."Woohoo! My load!")

Flying "home"

8:11pm
I'm blogging from the plane! Drug-free. Take-off freaked me out. Afterwards, it was just fine. Great, in a way. I'm having a blast looking out the window and I have some very fun girl sitting next to me chatting away. Good flight home so far.

(Don't forget: FLICKR!)

12:29am
Home. Eating something. Had three drinks on the plane. Sat next to a couple of people who were quite magnanimous, and insisted on buying me drinks. So a screwdriver and two rum and cokes later, I was pretty well on. Just so happens these two were from Philly, but the girl was originally from Florida (Plantation, even, living in a complex down the street from me that I'd looked at years ago and that my ex moved into when we split back in 2006 - small world etc.). So they gave me some tips on Philly and places to look for housing. We exchanged numbers and emails. Renay and Gary. Very nice people - not my "types" -- much more in party mode, much more outgoing -- but extremely lovely people I wouldn't mind hanging out with in Philly since they live in the area where I will be working. Funny how these things go.

The flight was good. It was "drug free" (yes, I had alcohol - this was well into the flight, thanks). The takeoff was frightening. Feeling shoved back in the seat, seeing the plane take off, the noise, etc. But I was quickly distracted by the incredible speed and view, and a few minutes in, I was actually enjoying the flight. The bulk of the flight, being at night, was complete blackness out the window. The descent into South Florida and Ft. Lauderdale was up there on some of the most amazing experiences I've had.

Arrived home to lots of mail, of course. The City of Fort Lauderdale has two positions I qualify for that they want me to come in for - one to test/interview for, the other to just interview for. The City of Pembroke Pines wants me to attend orientation after which, if I liked it, I'd have the job. Both are in the trash. Leaving Florida is a wonderful prospect. Living in Philly? With my fiance? And some new friends? In a place with seasons? Yes, please. I can't wait. I spent the last year or two feeling stuck in neutral, not knowing what I wanted to do or what would feel like I was moving forward. Well, I guess this is it. I'm grabbing it as hard as I can.

I had a bit of a run-through on some of what I'll be doing and it is similar to some of what I've done before - or at least used before in previous occupations - and the rest I would likely very easily learn. I am excited about this new job. I think I'd like it quite a lot. The differences - from what I can see right now - between the new job and the one I will quite happily be leaving are happily large.

This past week was...I don't know what. The week to come will be a busy jumble, with tension and anxiety and stress and happy anticipation. Then...as cheesy as it is to say, a new life.

The flight home is documented on Flickr, as well as the rest of the trip and various and sundry older stuff etc. My Flickr will continually be updated, and comment!

My first flight

I'm writing this from a motel (Country Inn) in Reading, PA, at 2am. So my first flight. Well, I had trouble getting myself to leave the house. If you've never had a major fear/phobia, it is hard to explain exactly what it is like. It is like asking you to do something that you don't want to do, but multiplied by 1000; like if you don't like spiders, asking you to walk up to a spider the size of a horse and mounting it. Or something. Analogies suffer greatly at this time of night. So I was told - very astutely - to just do one thing at a time. I was all packed. I first had to drive to the Sharaton and park. So I did that. Good. Next step: take the shuttle. Good. Next step: I'm at the airport! But I'm already there. Horray. Might as well go through the kiosk.

At Southwest, you go up to a kiosk, check your baggage (and it's free for Southwest! Holla!), and print your pass. All very cool. Then it is security. I got blown with a blast of bracing air (supposedly at random they shoot people with air, the air blown is tested for elements that might suggest one has been handling explosives). Then I was chosen to have my carry-on bag meticulously tested. Lucky me. This actually was fun to me. Also, made me feel good because, yay, security! Then you go sit at the gate and wait. I had been given a small prescription of happy pills by the clinic doctor to get me through my first flight. I took a half of one as I sat at the gate. Ninety minutes to go. Then I spoke to my brother, then texted other people. Everyone, when they find out you've never flown, or that you're afraid of flying, has to tell you a story. Often they are horror stories, or at least, stories of "oh, you'll be fine, but sometimes __________ happens and it's scary, or _________ makes me feel ____________ and _____ ___ ____________." As in, things someone who has a phobia doesn't want to hear. So a half hour to go, I took a whole pill. (My doc told me to take up to two for the flight.) I got on the plane, ten minutes early! (Horray air travel!)

I sat on the aisle. My thinking: easier to get off the plane in an emergency (to hell with those other people, I'm getting out like George Costanza) and also, I'm less boxed in, so less claustrophobia (though I don't know if I suffer that phobia or not; better to not find out 30,000 ft. in the sky). The plane started to "taxi." (Why it is called that, I have no idea. In case other people want to thumb a ride?) As we taxied, I took another half pill. I'd taken my two. That's all I could take. (Rebel I am, I stick to my rules with medication.) I felt no better, really. But - I wasn't completely freaked. I was nervous, a little scared, and apprehensive. The way it works, the plane sits completely still. I thought maybe we'd found a fare. Then suddenly they hit the gas like Vin Diesel (my pop culture references are outdated?) and then next I knew, I look outside and Port Everglades is UNDERNEATH ME. Then I felt like "holy FU*K" and then "WHEEEEEEEEEE." I asked the guy at the window - bless him - to take the picture seen in the previous post. I pulled my laptop out and put in a DVD to watch. Didn't want to do that. Pulled out the book I bought on the way called "Flying Without Fear." Found that I should've read that book before the damned flight. Pulled out a magazine. This was good. I was interested. I would look out the window, marveling at being in the sky. Felt the plane ascend. I was frightened but not overwhelmingly so. Eventually, pulled out my iPod, listened to a flight playlist while I flipped through my Computer Music magazine.

Then, my memory failed me.

The two drugs apparently take a lot longer to kick in than I thought. I remember only shards of the rest of the night. Really, the rest of the next 24 hours. At some point, I had conversations with people. I can only assume I was able to conjure sentences in the English language. At one point, I got the hiccups very severely, and I remember the stewardesses giving me an orange drink and then a steady supply of water in those nifty little plastic cups. I vaguely remember seeing Philadelphia as we descended into the airport. At some point, against airplane regulations I texted Angela (the text didn't arrive until the plane landed; this I would know except my brain was in the midst of a rolling brownout). I landed. By the grace of a merciful God I found my luggage. I texted Angela some gibberish. One about not knowing where to go to find her. Another at how "shicked" I was at how fast the flight went by. Apparently, I still had the hiccups. Probably from the medication being too much for my system. I was given - in hindsight, this was a bad idea - a can of soda to help with my now painful hiccups. I downed the can of soda. I then had the Burp of Doom. You know, the burp that says "Warning: tangible material on its way." Angela - bless her - quickly handed me a sweater, which I puked generously into. I also got it on her car seat. (I'm sorry, Ang.) I then apparently fell asleep quickly as I was driven to our motel. (I have a text from this period of time that simply reads "hotdogs?" This apparently was her question to me - as I slept in the car, waiting - while she was in a store picking up a few things for the night. I was out cold, and therefore, there were no hot dogs.)

I then apparently slept through the night and into the morning, and waking me up at around 10am would have been easier with a Pulp Fiction-esque syringe of adrenaline to the chest. I still felt the effects of the medication for the first part of the day, but at that point, I was none the worse for wear, except strange and fragmented memories; and, of course, stewardesses glad to see me off their flight, and a very nice couple with a story of a very loopy jackass who sat next to them on their flight into Philly. Oh, and the puke came right out of Angela's car seat, thank you very much.

All that being said, I think I enjoy flying, and I'm looking forward (somewhat) to doing it again. At the very least, I don't believe I'll be very scared of it, though I imagine I'll always have some nervousness and apprehension of it because, well, that's the kind of guy I am. I won't be in any big hurry to be doing it, I won't seek it out, and I won't love it, but I won't hate it or be terrified of it. I will also never have Cherry Coke Zero again.

Please take a look at my PA pictures, if you are one to do such things, and I think you are: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nickdaly/sets/72157623817110747/
More will be added as my trip winds down. PA is quite lovely, and I don't want to leave. In fact, I may end up not leaving, or at least, leaving, telling my boss and landlord - and, in as much as one can talk to a land mass, the State of Florida - to suck goats, and then coming back here and bringing my things with me.

That's all for now.

Oh boy

Hey. Did you know that people go up in planes and then, to get back to the ground, they JUMP OUT?!?

Well, in 45 minutes I will be arriving at the airport. A couple of hours after that, I will be doing something that nature never intended us to do. I'd like to think I am as prepared as I'm going to be. The plan is to keep the freaking out inside. I will likely take something before I board, and hopefully drift off to sleep on the flight. In case I'm doomed to being awake - which I suspect I will be - I have packed a couple of movies, lots of stuff on my iPod, a couple of books and a new magazine. I expect I won't enjoy the experience. In all seriousness, I hope I can tolerate it or, at best, be okay/indifferent. I know all of the facts - statistically I've got more chance to die in the shower than in a plane, it's safe, planes work blah blah etc. If only emotions and fears responded to intellect and knowledge.

I'm flying Southwest. Supposedly they come on the speakers and tell jokes and sing. I'm sure that'll help a lot. Also, they have a good safety rating, and have had no crashes or major accidents in 37 years. So DON'T YOU THINK THEY'RE DUE FOR ONE?!?!?

The bright side is that I can say I've done it. I've flown. I can use the expression "I've got a plane to catch!" If I get the chance. In fact, maybe I'll call someone a few minutes before I've got to go, start a conversation, and then abruptly interrupt and end it with "Can't talk now - I've got a plane to catch!" I could also become a member of the mile-high club, if I'm willing to be the only member of my club (ifyouknowwhatimean).

I would write about my experiences on the plane, but apparently I can't because there's no Internet in the sky. I thought that's where Internet came from.

But I can't write now - I've got a plane to catch!

I ain't gettin on no plane, sucka

Twenty-four hours from now, I will be on a plane. In the sky. Bucking the laws of gravity. Thousands of feet in the air. Holy crap.

I'm as prepared as I'm going to be, I think. I just hope I handle flying better than Mr. T or Charles Grodin.

aerophobia

Alright, I'm getting close to my first plane trip. Thursday. Just over 48 hours from now, I will be arriving at the airport. Then departing. In a plane. A flying machine. That will fly impossibly high up in the sky. For almost three hours.

I'm starting to (finally) feel some real nervousness. Part of my problem is that I can't really imagine flying. Sure, I've seen it in movies, on TV, I hear of people doing it, but never having done it, it is hard for me to really imagine what it will be like. As I'm unable to truly imagine it, it is hard for me to know how I will feel. I'm not freaking out about it, at all, really. Now. But I won't know what it is like, of course, until I do it. That makes me nervous. So either I will be in the middle of it and feel fine and be relieved. Or I could get in the air and experience a horror usually reserved for Lovecraft characters when they face some monster or awful reality that so terrifies them that they are driven insane.

There's probably a middle in there somewhere too.

Pluto Hate Mail

Pluto hate mail from children.

A drug that "takes away free will"

This is a fascinating story about a Colombian drug that takes away a user's free will. At least, I find it fascinating. It sounds like something out of some fantastic novel or movie. Someone should write it. More interesting information about it can be found here.

Guy gets parking ticket 30 seconds after parking

I would refer this to one of my favorite Onion articles (which has perfectly encapsulated my feelings whenever I've gotten tickets, parking or otherwise): Shit Parking Ticket Fuck

Doll haunted by "spirit of 15-year-old hussy from 1769"

(Via Regretsy)

Turn down that noise, get off my lawn, how can you call that music etc. etc.

THIS makes me feel OLD. Jesus god in heaven.

aerophobia part 4

I've been having flying-related dreams lately. At least every few nights (that I'm able to remember). Last night's was particularly vivid and seemed to span the entire night. Interestingly, none of them have been negative. Last night's was positively wonderful and made me wish upon waking that it had been real.

All good signs, I think.

When I was a teenager a high school friend called Matt drove me to a nearby town in his little beater car using the interstate. He drove some portion of the trip around 100 miles per hour. It scared the holy living hell out of me. I figure flying can't possibly be scarier than that.

aerophobia part 3

I bought a plane ticket. Flying late next month. No turning back now!

I am now considering my options for how to mitigate any fear and anxiety I might feel. (Strangely - in a good way - I'm not really feeling any at all so far. Strange because in the past, even thinking about maybe doing it - and certainly looking at buying a ticket - elicited some major anxiety.) Self-hypnosis recordings? Learning relaxation techniques? Drugs? (I'm going to try to avoid going that far.)

Supposedly in my aversion to flying I join "famous aviatophobics" such as Isaac Asimov, David Bowie, Robert Smith, Megan Fox (who?), John Madden, and Whoopi Goldberg.

Creepy 1969 IHOP commercial

Apparently this is how it actually aired, with that incredibly creepy music and demented chipmunk singing voice. Sounds like something out of some insane carnival than a place to take the family for a heart-attack breakfast.

aerophobia, part 2

Continuing on my earlier post about my almost thirty-year-old fear of flying.



I'm not sure if this is a feature of other people who have struggled with anxiety - I believe from some conversation with friends that it might be - but what I do when I'm not feeling anxious is to "test" myself; that is, to see if I can make myself feel anxious. Sort of like when you've got a sore spot, maybe you poke at it to see if it still hurts. One thing most psychologists will tell you about anxiety is that people who have ever suffered from it actually have issues with being anxious about the anxiety. For me, this means that when I've been feeling fine, I start to get anxious about the fact that I know eventually I will get anxious again. For me, this has mostly subsided; I had some major anxiety issues in 2007 and 2008, which wrecked some havoc in my life; I had some issues with it last year but started to really try to actually deal with it, and since then - especially in the last few months - have been completely anxiety free, with almost no trace of any feelings related to it, for the first time since 2007. (This of course hasn't taken care of anxieties about real life issues, such as flying.) But because humans often like to make themselves miserable and upset, I started reading about flying phobia horror stories.

I found that it wasn't really bothering me. So I pressed on.



One thing a friend of mine told me about his fear of flying is that he'd get terribly anxious when he went to buy a plane ticket. So I went to the site of an airline and started playing around, putting in flights, making itineraries, reading about what to expect at the airport. And I found that I was only mildly anxious. Not even anxious, really, just a sort of "normal" fear, rational in the sense that I have just never been in the air before. There's some trepidation still there, and I'm sure some anxiety, but the lack of any strong feeling of it was surprising. I also found I felt kind of...giddy? Excited at the idea of even being inside an airport, being on an escalator, hearing the thing that tells me time to board, etc. (What can I say? I'm a big kid sometimes and am easily amused/excited.) The fearful and anxiety-ridden experience I thought I'd barely be able to endure has turned into something that I might even find exciting. And I was really expecting to be strongly anxious and trepidatious about it. I ALWAYS had in the past, even just thinking about flying freaked me out. Let alone actually reading about it or "testing" it (I'd never gotten to the point of even starting to do any of that.) I was even warning people that I'd probably chicken out or end up spending a large amount of money to run to the doctor and hide behind medication.

It's hard to understand. Changes happen, but it is sometimes surprising to suddenly find that I've changed. It's tempting to think that I haven't really changed much at all, and that it will all hit the fan eventually. But that thought/feeling hasn't had much traction with me lately. I always felt very skeptical of people talking about their personality improvements and life changes; seeing it through the lens of my own life, in which I've always felt I was a good person but was far too easily at the whim of an anxious, insecure, impulsive personality, I felt maybe I'd never be able to get rid of that stuff (and my skepticism about someone being able to truly change probably hindered it). I've known that I'd started to finally grow up. Last year was so completely awful in so many ways, and a months long wave of "bad luck" and upset pushed my personality to the limit, and made me start to really have to think about making real changes. In my past, I might find ways to work around it or sweep it under the rug. Events of the recent past didn't allow this. I'd felt "different", especially since the new year, and felt - in that often nebulous, unsure way - that I was actually truly changing, but my resolution to get over my fear of flying has given me a more "real" example of how I might have changed. And also some hope and confidence that I can continue to make positive changes in other parts of my life and improvements to my personality.

aerophobia

I've never been on a plane. People who know me know this already, and people who don't know me very well and find this out are always shocked. I'm afraid of flying. I don't know if this is a result of some actual psychological phobia/fear or just a result of me having never done it. Probably a mixture of the two. (I know I'm afraid of heights, which I was reminded of a few months ago when I got in my boss' boom lift, which is a little crane thing on wheels; it went 120 feet in the air. At about 100 feet, I lost the ability to speak.) I'll be 30 later this year, and I don't want to turn 30 having never flown. Also, there are places I'd like to go that will require flying (and possibly I'll have to fly for work, which gives me little choice in the matter). So I've started the process of getting myself ready for the experience. Which may happen as soon as next month.

I always told people that when I'm about to finally fly, I'm just going to be very medicated. That option is still on the table (and I recommended a particular medication to one of my good friends who is also afraid of flying, and he confirmed its effectiveness), but I am a bit wary of taking drugs to help me; for one thing, I don't like the precedent that it might set - I don't want to basically circumvent getting over my fear simply by using medication, unless I find I simply must - and having some experience with those types of medication, I'm not thrilled at the idea of taking them again. So I'm trying to feel my way around. So far, I've started really reading about flying and flying phobias, coping mechanisms, etc. I will admit that it has made me very anxious; I had a dream earlier in the week about flying that woke me up slightly anxious, which turned into a very brief anxiety attack. Reading about flying, at first, made me very anxious. It seems to be subsiding, though. At least to an extent. And my feelings of excitement about flying are starting to cut through a bit. At the moment, I'm pretty adamant about being able to do it without any aides besides coping tips and techniques. (Like walking around barefoot and making fists with my toes; thanks, Die Hard!) My plan is, within the next few weeks, to make some actual plans and purchase a ticket (and once I throw down my money, I've pretty much passed the point of no return). So this is going to be a mini saga for me. On one side, I'm still admittedly a bit terrified and I'm even meta-terrified - I'm anxious and afraid of the fact that I will probably feel anxious and afraid. On another side, I feel somewhat like a little kid about to do something neat. I'm not sure the more positive side is going to get very close to winning - at least not on my first time - but I'm hoping to at least keep it well on the scale.

Devil's Wear Prague

A hilarious resume from an "actor"/extra, via BRTE:

Page 72

Via Reddit

The Monster Engine

The Monster Engine is a website/book showcasing an artist who has taken children's surreal and fantastical drawings and turned them into realistic artistic pieces. Very interesting. Also a fun reminder that children's imaginations are quite wild.

A couple of my favorite examples:

France: Ta Gueule!

Via WSJ: Mon Dieu! Will Newfound Popularity Spoil the Dainty Macaron? Macarons New Popularity Worries Fans.

Apparently in France, people can now buy macarons at places like Starbucks and McDonalds ("McCafe"). This is pissing the French off.

"Macarons are not meant to be mainstream," sniffs Laetitia Brock, a native of Paris who has been blogging about French culture from Washington for the past six years.[...] "I saw them at the McCafé on the Champs-Élysées—just down the street from Ladurée! What is the world coming to?!?" commented Allison Lightwine, using the screen name La Mom.

Okay. This sort of thing might be why people make fun of (and in some cases, strongly dislike) the French. I mean, Jesus Christ, we can't have common folk eating macarons with their lattes at Starbucks! These things are too good for those types of people! Casse-toi!

France, I EAT YOUR MACARONS!

What will Barbie be next?

Great Music Videos or Grestest Music Videos?

Jesus god in heaven. And there's more.

Light bladder leakage is no laughing matter.

Ask Whoppi Goldberg.

(There are about seven more of these, all ridiculous.)

(This doesn't mean I'm making fun of a problem that a great number of people have, and that is no laughing matter. I'm making fun of Whoppi Goldberg.)

(Via NyMag)

Law degree for sale, $59,250

(Via AboveTheLaw.com)



After several years of practicing law I have come to the conclusion that my law degree is useless and I don't want to be a lawyer anymore...This priceless collectible will permit you to be surrounded by hobby-less assholes whose entire life is dictated by billing by the hour and being anal dickheads...

Hilarious. Supposedly this is actually real.

The Holy See's approved rock albums

Someone sent this to me: The Vatican has released a list of their top 10 rock albums of all time. L’ Osservatore Romano, the Vatican's official newspaper, listed their choices for the best ten. "Revolver" and "Dark Side of the Moon" appear on the list, of which I approve. Oasis' "What's the Story (Morning Glory)" is a bit hinky to me. Also, "Thriller" made the list, which I guess makes sense given the Church's stance on pedophilia. (Yeah, obvious bad joke.) They did call the list "semiserious," which I suppose explains how Santana's "Supernatural" and Crosby's "If I Could Only Remember My Name" ended up on there. Fleetwood Mac's "Rumors" and Donald Fagen's "Nightfly" are choices I really like as well.

Figuref*cking

This screenshot of a video popped up as a Google ad this morning. Maybe I have a dirty mind but the picture gave me pause. And then made me chuckle. I played it for about three seconds and saw that it was just figure skating from the Olympics (three seconds being about 2.5 seconds too long for me).