You've got to be kidding me.
(Thanks Ryan S, Ryan K, Jenny...fuck...everyone, for the head's up.)
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
Strangest "Spanish Option" Operator Voice
1-888-925-5016
(It's Con Edison's Pay-By-Phone number)
Now I know what you're thinking.
"But Anne, you just farted all over the Spanish basketball team for making fun of Asians. Now you're making fun of the Spanish language?"
No. No I'm not. I'm making fun of the operator's voice. I think my favorite 1-800 operator is actually JetBlue, because the English and Spanish announcements are made by the same person, with the exact same intonation, and inflections, which is to say, she sounds like she's speaking English in BOTH announcements.
(It's Con Edison's Pay-By-Phone number)
Now I know what you're thinking.
"But Anne, you just farted all over the Spanish basketball team for making fun of Asians. Now you're making fun of the Spanish language?"
No. No I'm not. I'm making fun of the operator's voice. I think my favorite 1-800 operator is actually JetBlue, because the English and Spanish announcements are made by the same person, with the exact same intonation, and inflections, which is to say, she sounds like she's speaking English in BOTH announcements.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Everyone Knows How to Pronounce It, Dude.
When I was in high school, it was normal to make fun of people who were willfully intelligent; to mock the deliberately good students on honor roll, who practiced SAT vocabulary in real-life situations. Then one day, I became an adult, and I stopped making fun of smart people because, well, it's stupid and immature.
Yes, stupid and immature.
Yes, stupid and immature.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Athelete Tongue Twisters
Pujol's poo hole poos pooey holes in the pool hall.
Favre favors football fields far from farms...and Le Havre.
How much wood would wounded Woods chip if Woods could chip with woods?
Malone's lone bologne boner slaloms alone at home.
Never knew ya, Lorena Ochoa.
Hamm's man's a damn fan but man, if lamb ain't ham.
(ok that made no sense.)
If Federer fed airs in fairness heirs reared fairly far wouldn't dare.
Favre favors football fields far from farms...and Le Havre.
How much wood would wounded Woods chip if Woods could chip with woods?
Malone's lone bologne boner slaloms alone at home.
Never knew ya, Lorena Ochoa.
Hamm's man's a damn fan but man, if lamb ain't ham.
(ok that made no sense.)
If Federer fed airs in fairness heirs reared fairly far wouldn't dare.
I was able to stop puking for just long enough to point this out to y'all:
"Life as a Runway: On the Brooklyn Prairie: Red Hook" (NY Times)
Thus concludes my hiatus from anti-Brooklynology.
[So it's clear: my problem is this contrived coverage, and not the Brooklyn businesses they cover.]
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
top 5 asian phalluses
(In no particular order)
1. The "bachelor" radish kimchi:
I'm told this kimchi has two different names that actually translate as "ponytail" or "bachelor" (or bachelor with a tail like a pony's?) kimchi, so the comparison is thoroughly embedded, but...if it is in fact a "bachelor" phallus, it's a very...uh...active one.
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2. The geoduck, aka mirugai:
Did you know geoduck are more commonly found along the western coast of the US, and that as a sashimi item it's really a crossover import?
Ah...sushi...memories of my first waitressing job...the owner of the sushi bar would run these things under cold water to make them "stand up" and then run around poking the waitresses from behind, for example. Can't say sushi ain't classy...
3. The Dosa:
I've just made this comparison up myself , but I can't imagine there haven't already been Punjabs described as having "dosas with the mostas"? Alternately, one could say they'd just gotten a "punjab."
4. The Egg Roll:
Pretty much.
5. The Bowl Cut:
I believe it's called a Hapax Legomenon when a word or phrase occurs only once in the context of a single language, and since I have not seen reference to the bowl cut as resembling an erect circumcised dick anywhere else but in this manga, The Bowl Cut is not just an Asian phallus, it's a linguistic phenomenon.
1. The "bachelor" radish kimchi:
I'm told this kimchi has two different names that actually translate as "ponytail" or "bachelor" (or bachelor with a tail like a pony's?) kimchi, so the comparison is thoroughly embedded, but...if it is in fact a "bachelor" phallus, it's a very...uh...active one.
.jpg)
2. The geoduck, aka mirugai:
Did you know geoduck are more commonly found along the western coast of the US, and that as a sashimi item it's really a crossover import?
Ah...sushi...memories of my first waitressing job...the owner of the sushi bar would run these things under cold water to make them "stand up" and then run around poking the waitresses from behind, for example. Can't say sushi ain't classy...
3. The Dosa:
I've just made this comparison up myself , but I can't imagine there haven't already been Punjabs described as having "dosas with the mostas"? Alternately, one could say they'd just gotten a "punjab."
4. The Egg Roll:
Pretty much.
5. The Bowl Cut:
I believe it's called a Hapax Legomenon when a word or phrase occurs only once in the context of a single language, and since I have not seen reference to the bowl cut as resembling an erect circumcised dick anywhere else but in this manga, The Bowl Cut is not just an Asian phallus, it's a linguistic phenomenon.
Obama and McCain on Last Comic Standing?!
pander pander pander pander pander
pander pander pander pander unfunny
pander pander pander pander pander
pander pander pander pander pander
wtf
pander pander pander pander unfunny
pander pander pander pander pander
pander pander pander pander pander
wtf
Monday, August 4, 2008
The story of a man
I'm going to test-drive a sort of somber story today since my sense of humor is apparently on its rag.
Last week while in Souther California, my mother took me to a friend's place, walking distance from The Tiger Woods Learning Center, which is itself located behind Disneyland and The Crystal Cathedral. In fact the whole area is surrounded by churches and driving ranges, and I can't but think this is someone's missed opportunity to christen the area the Fairway to Heaven. [Anyone interested in using that moniker please see me after class.]
My mother wants me to see her friend's golf clubs, because he's "finally ready to part with some of them on the cheap." This makes about as much sense to me as it does to you at this point, since I already have golf clubs and I don't know why a middle-aged Japanese man would actually part with what is generally considered an Asian business appendage-par for the course...so to speak.
We drive up to what looks like a pretty ubiquitous Californian apartment complex, which is to say an amalgam of duplexes connected by a windy concrete footpath and whose garage surrounds it like a moat. The complex is dotted by cheap juniper shrubbery and wilde bouganvilleas to give the impression of a resort, belied by the presence of a woman wearing the makeup of a porcelain doll, down to cherry red lipstick the size of a coat button. She has lolipop hair; is stuffed in her lawn chair. When she doesn't smile back I silently patronize her for being the pointlessly dressed up gatekeeper to such a shithole.
My mom's friend comes out to greet us and takes us out to his garage space. He's an older man, so we let him set the pace, but even from behind you can tell he's fit (well, not just because he's so fit, but because he's wearing a wife beater, bermuda shorts and rubber slippers, little was left to the imagination). I remember him from my sister's wedding. He was the one who invited all the ladies to the dance floor. Yes, that guy.
We finally get to his garage, which is padlocked. Twice. He unlocks and lifts the garage door, I drop my jaw. The whole garage is FILLED with sets of golf clubs, some wrapped up in duct tape, others still in bags covered in cobwebs.
If I was ever unsure of the meaning of a guffaw, I am no longer. What the heck is this guy doing with so many golf clubs? I briefly consider possibilities of him being in a racket, an ex-proprieter of a golf shop, an injured country club pro, the father of a golf league that died in a plane crash? There are literally THAT many sets of clubs.
The answer is both more banal and more astonishing than any of the above. My mother tells me the story after we leave, that her friend used to be a bigwig at a major Japanese auto company. The company sent him to the US with a nice car, a big house, and a bottomless expense account. With the account, he did two things: frequent a bar run by the woman he's lived with for the last twenty five years (not to be confused with his wife and mother of his three children in Japan, from whom he's been estranged for the last ten); and go on golf vacations with said mistress.
Fast forward to the 21st century, when he's retired and his common-law wife has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. Their life together now revolves around supporting her in illness, which has required compromising their old lifestyle. Nursing homes won't take her because she's unusually young and spry for someone with the characteristically geriatric condition, and because the couple thinks it's too late to do "the honorable thing" and get officially hitched, neither of them can or wants to return to Japan where elder care is subsidized by the government. And the golf clubs? My mother had been trying to convince him to part with his precious relics for some time to no avail, but between her insistence, his bad knee, and what I'm told is a penny that counts, I scored a set of true metal Spalding irons...for a dime. How about that.
Last week while in Souther California, my mother took me to a friend's place, walking distance from The Tiger Woods Learning Center, which is itself located behind Disneyland and The Crystal Cathedral. In fact the whole area is surrounded by churches and driving ranges, and I can't but think this is someone's missed opportunity to christen the area the Fairway to Heaven. [Anyone interested in using that moniker please see me after class.]
My mother wants me to see her friend's golf clubs, because he's "finally ready to part with some of them on the cheap." This makes about as much sense to me as it does to you at this point, since I already have golf clubs and I don't know why a middle-aged Japanese man would actually part with what is generally considered an Asian business appendage-par for the course...so to speak.
We drive up to what looks like a pretty ubiquitous Californian apartment complex, which is to say an amalgam of duplexes connected by a windy concrete footpath and whose garage surrounds it like a moat. The complex is dotted by cheap juniper shrubbery and wilde bouganvilleas to give the impression of a resort, belied by the presence of a woman wearing the makeup of a porcelain doll, down to cherry red lipstick the size of a coat button. She has lolipop hair; is stuffed in her lawn chair. When she doesn't smile back I silently patronize her for being the pointlessly dressed up gatekeeper to such a shithole.
My mom's friend comes out to greet us and takes us out to his garage space. He's an older man, so we let him set the pace, but even from behind you can tell he's fit (well, not just because he's so fit, but because he's wearing a wife beater, bermuda shorts and rubber slippers, little was left to the imagination). I remember him from my sister's wedding. He was the one who invited all the ladies to the dance floor. Yes, that guy.
We finally get to his garage, which is padlocked. Twice. He unlocks and lifts the garage door, I drop my jaw. The whole garage is FILLED with sets of golf clubs, some wrapped up in duct tape, others still in bags covered in cobwebs.
If I was ever unsure of the meaning of a guffaw, I am no longer. What the heck is this guy doing with so many golf clubs? I briefly consider possibilities of him being in a racket, an ex-proprieter of a golf shop, an injured country club pro, the father of a golf league that died in a plane crash? There are literally THAT many sets of clubs.
The answer is both more banal and more astonishing than any of the above. My mother tells me the story after we leave, that her friend used to be a bigwig at a major Japanese auto company. The company sent him to the US with a nice car, a big house, and a bottomless expense account. With the account, he did two things: frequent a bar run by the woman he's lived with for the last twenty five years (not to be confused with his wife and mother of his three children in Japan, from whom he's been estranged for the last ten); and go on golf vacations with said mistress.
Fast forward to the 21st century, when he's retired and his common-law wife has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. Their life together now revolves around supporting her in illness, which has required compromising their old lifestyle. Nursing homes won't take her because she's unusually young and spry for someone with the characteristically geriatric condition, and because the couple thinks it's too late to do "the honorable thing" and get officially hitched, neither of them can or wants to return to Japan where elder care is subsidized by the government. And the golf clubs? My mother had been trying to convince him to part with his precious relics for some time to no avail, but between her insistence, his bad knee, and what I'm told is a penny that counts, I scored a set of true metal Spalding irons...for a dime. How about that.
Friday, August 1, 2008
ANYHOO000ooo
Moving on...
I don't have anything else to say about Comic-Con that anyone else hasn't already covered or that'll earn me scorn. [I hope whoever accuses me of being a snob realizes I am equal parts booth troll and floor troll, Paul Pope and Eddie Campbell fan, geek and douchebag. I am not however, a fan of tevabirkencrocs or No Fear, and if that's wrong, I don't want to ever be right.]
I do however have one small observation. In the 8 years I've been in the company of comics paraphernalia and the con, three of them have been election years. But in neither of the preceding two was anyone doing presidential campaign merchandising. I've seen parodic images of Bush, and vintage pins, Nader shirts on attendees, political statements about American congress, and the war in Iraq, but never ever, election politic campaign materials actually being distributed.
This year, there was not one, not two, not three, but FOUR Obama x Comics artifacts prominently exposed on the floor.
Exhibit 1:
Ron English poster "mash up" of Obama and Abe Lincoln. This is part of a group of prints by Upper Playground, including the Fairey CHANGE poster and a print by Sam Flores. Last Gasp was selling these for $20 a pop. I saw one in Silverlake after the Con selling for a lot more...
Exhibit 2:
Alex Ross's SuperObama T-shirt. I bought a signed print, not so much because I like Obama but because of the implications of a Superman-Obama. Mythical icon, dual identities...
Exhibit 3:
This poster wasn't the actual merchandise, but there was an "Adama For President" delegate on the floor handing out "Adama - Obama 2008" bumper stickers and flyers of E.J. Olmos and B. Obama in back-to-back profile. [You can download their campaign posters for your own guerrilla campaign purposes.]
I love this mashup because 1. I love Battlestar Galactica, though 2. BSG claims no association with it. i.e. It's BSG fans who've started the faux campaign on their own. Like, the Adama delegate doesn't make money from BSG or Sci-Fi channel. It's ultimate fandom 3. Mexican-American and African-American oval office? Hellllllz yeah.
Exhibit 4:
And of course, the thing that inspired it all (sort of). Shepard Fairey's campaign posters...This wasn't actually selling at a booth, but there was an Obama delegate at the Con distributing miniature versions of this print as "cell phone stickers."
Did you see any Obama x Comics merch I've missed? Memories of past campaign paraphernalia on the floor?
I don't have anything else to say about Comic-Con that anyone else hasn't already covered or that'll earn me scorn. [I hope whoever accuses me of being a snob realizes I am equal parts booth troll and floor troll, Paul Pope and Eddie Campbell fan, geek and douchebag. I am not however, a fan of tevabirkencrocs or No Fear, and if that's wrong, I don't want to ever be right.]
I do however have one small observation. In the 8 years I've been in the company of comics paraphernalia and the con, three of them have been election years. But in neither of the preceding two was anyone doing presidential campaign merchandising. I've seen parodic images of Bush, and vintage pins, Nader shirts on attendees, political statements about American congress, and the war in Iraq, but never ever, election politic campaign materials actually being distributed.
This year, there was not one, not two, not three, but FOUR Obama x Comics artifacts prominently exposed on the floor.
Exhibit 1:
Ron English poster "mash up" of Obama and Abe Lincoln. This is part of a group of prints by Upper Playground, including the Fairey CHANGE poster and a print by Sam Flores. Last Gasp was selling these for $20 a pop. I saw one in Silverlake after the Con selling for a lot more...Exhibit 2:
Alex Ross's SuperObama T-shirt. I bought a signed print, not so much because I like Obama but because of the implications of a Superman-Obama. Mythical icon, dual identities...Exhibit 3:
This poster wasn't the actual merchandise, but there was an "Adama For President" delegate on the floor handing out "Adama - Obama 2008" bumper stickers and flyers of E.J. Olmos and B. Obama in back-to-back profile. [You can download their campaign posters for your own guerrilla campaign purposes.]
I love this mashup because 1. I love Battlestar Galactica, though 2. BSG claims no association with it. i.e. It's BSG fans who've started the faux campaign on their own. Like, the Adama delegate doesn't make money from BSG or Sci-Fi channel. It's ultimate fandom 3. Mexican-American and African-American oval office? Hellllllz yeah.
Exhibit 4:
And of course, the thing that inspired it all (sort of). Shepard Fairey's campaign posters...This wasn't actually selling at a booth, but there was an Obama delegate at the Con distributing miniature versions of this print as "cell phone stickers."Did you see any Obama x Comics merch I've missed? Memories of past campaign paraphernalia on the floor?
HAD
(I know this won't make a lot of sense to everyone, but bear with me.)
Some idiot had taken advantage of the fact that I had never met Sanford or his family, posed as his wife, and told a bunch of us never-mets that he died. Sanford's apparently just found out about the prank himself.
Karma is going to be rough on poser-wife. Ideally karma will shoot poser-wife in the head (which is what poser-wife told me Sanford had done). Yeah...I know. Seriously.
I apologize to those who tried to console me, and for those who needed consolation. Sick fucking joke.
Some idiot had taken advantage of the fact that I had never met Sanford or his family, posed as his wife, and told a bunch of us never-mets that he died. Sanford's apparently just found out about the prank himself.
Karma is going to be rough on poser-wife. Ideally karma will shoot poser-wife in the head (which is what poser-wife told me Sanford had done). Yeah...I know. Seriously.
I apologize to those who tried to console me, and for those who needed consolation. Sick fucking joke.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Comic-Con International, quickie highlights
Where do I begin?
ACT I:
I hear the most succinct "dialogue" of the weekend, from the point of view of Floor Trolls:
The Scene: Man in mid-twenties, standing upright, chest out, feet shoulder width apart, he's Mercury, he's Hermes, he's wearing BirkenTevaCrocs, cargo shorts and a No Fear T-shirt. He has no fear.
Said Man faces what looked like his girlfriend: Woman in mid-twenties, pulled down through arms with a fake tattoo of hooker herpetic kiss, two big muumuu-like sacks full of catalogs, postcards, probably an Eddie Campbell drawing sticky with dreams of Paul Pope, knock-kneed and wearing matching BirkenTevaCrocs and possibly about to throw up and cry at the same time.
Man says:
"Well I'm having fun."
They probably stayed at the Con an extra few hours, but he probably also lost any bed privileges for the rest of the week, including the right to sleep on one not made of sofa cushions stained with Paul Pope love marks.
ACT II:
Best neologism I hear from the Booth Trolls:
Twitties. Firstly meaning "people who use Twitter." Secondly as demonstrated by accident in the following sentiment:
"She's got a really popular blog...and has major Twitties."
This turns into reappropriation of common phrases into such gems as:
I like a girl with big twitties
I would twittie f**k her
(Anne would like to apologize to anyone with titties...but not twitties.)
ACT III:
I somehow end up in a tiny red Honda with the Samehat crew, Viz editor Kit Fox, Hellen Jo and her man Calvin. (I'll give you a second to figure out the car seats-to-passenger ratio.)
Cheek to cheek with my San Francisco treats, we pull up to an intersection. At the corner nearest us, is a blonde in high heels and a black handkerchief expertly draped to look like a dress. Long legs, big twitties, the whole deal. Behind her is a shorter man, in Banana Republic and crew cut. He is so stoked to be with this woman. She is on the prowl for a cab.
The contents of the tiny red Honda all make fun of them because they only wish they were one of us: slack-jawed, unevenly proportioned bodies, myopic, known mostly by avatar...From inside the car, we're invincible.
Calvin, who despite being mega-awesome, does epitomize the very je ne sais quoi of nerdiness: slight underbite, glasses that reflect all light...asian...After we each take our turns mocking the frat party on the corner ("How did you tan your boner, Kyle?" "Does my anus look fat in this dress, Kyle?"), Hellen's man Calvin takes his turn and says to them under the protections of a sound-proof car:
Yeah...I bet you don't even know anything about comics.
I bet they don't...I bet they don't.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Digital Comics on the Wii
Manga on your Wii. Another reason to get Anne that Wii she's always wanted (every time there's an upgrade like this).
The new manga platform is available only Japan now, but its existence probably means it can easily be manipulated into American consoles.
Other cross-platform ideas:
Draconomicon on xBox. We've all seen glimpses of role-playing in MMPRPG in computer games (I'm sure I'm mis-acronyming that), just as the Wii has demonstrate anime in their genetic makeup. If Wii can publish old school static manga in their proto-futuristic console, by Jove xBox should be able to publish the Draconomicon. Also, The Book of Elves, and The Bard Book, but not the Player's Handbook as that would be unfair advantage.
Bible DS. Also The Devil's Advocate (DS). You ever notice some of Bible-references are equal numbers evangelizing and refuting contemporary Christianity? (e.g. "It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve!" "'Take of my flesh?' what are you, a cannibal?!") Why not make a game of it? It's a glorified digital debate, but at least you'll look cool with it in the subway.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
purple nurple
Y'all remember that Dave Chapelle bit about "purple drink"?
As if coming full circle on the pop culture train, I just stepped out for a snack and on my walk back to the office, was given a free sample of Purple. The thing is called, Purple Drink. wtf?
Also, the Purple Rain screening at Pier 54 at Hudson River Park tonight has been cancelled. I wonder if Prince was threatening to sue the parks department for copyright bullshit again. (Did you hear the one about Prince vs. Radiohead?).
The World reports on a Lebanese cafe called Buns n' Guns:
Lebanon has seen a lot of violence in recent years. So much, in fact, that many Lebanese worry that their country could easily slip into a civil war. That didn't stop the owners of a new restaurant in Beirut called "Buns and Guns." The restaurant's theme is all about Lebanon's violent side.
Shibani says he’s not trying to glorify war, but poke fun at Lebanon’s troubles, something that all Lebanese share regardless of which neighborhood they’re from. On the menu is a Terrorist Meal and Lebanese Resistance Bread. The rest of the items read like a litany of weaponry.
Story
Clock Digest
I see the Uniqlock everywhere now, so I felt a little clock (note: NOT wrist-watch) digest was in order.
Yugo Nakamura, who designed/programmed the original clock-language for Uniqlock, has the most awesome website ever. I don't want to sound hipper-than-thou, but I actually downloaded one of his first screensaver clocks (the very first one is no longer available) about 8 years ago when a computer engineer told me all about him.
Computer engineers, or engineers in general, are possibly the most interesting people you will meet. I know, I know...you're thinking, "uh, my dad who does civil engineering for the latest airport upgrade is not interesting at all. Neither are my Indian friends at Cal Poly." But I'm telling you, go to a party of engineers, and it's guaranteeing you all the things we in the media only pretend to have: 1. diversity 2. intelligent women who may or may not be hot but no one cares 3. answers to EVERYthing.
At the most recent engineers function I attended, I met this woman. She created a robotic etch-a-sketch clock!
Of course, digital clocks are a cultural phenomenon in and of themselves. Both Yugo-p and Angela's clocks are based on chronometrics, and numerology has long signified the future. The history of Zero is interesting in that respect. We have no idea how old we are. When calendar years were based on monarchs and dynastes (e.g. Meiji 10, 1980 A.D.), speculating the future becomes inevitable, because you really are guessing the mortality of an era.
Remember millenialism? Y2K?
Wanna assume the year 5000 anyone?
I'm guessing our existing digital count-up calendar is going to expire before the human race.
But it's all chronometric numberology until you get a manual clock. A manual clock implies no future. One might argue it even suggests the past. Look, there's me now, there's me 45 degrees ago, or about 7 minutes.
And of course there's the hour glass. Arguably my favorite kind of clock. It's long been a symbol of "time running out," but to me, it's about precision engineering, a beautiful figure, and controlling your countdown. Just turn it upside down when it's done oppressing you!
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
She's sort of a personal hero of mine, Tracy Quan. She has a piece in The Guardian in observance of Mary Magdalene Day.
Tracy Quan
I climbed the Sainte-Baume mountain to visit a cave where my patron saint is said to have spent her final days. As you reach the top there are 150 stone steps, in case you're travelling with rosary, as many visitors have done over the years.
The best passages from the Sermon on the Mount - Beatitudes - are inscribed on stone tablets alongside the stairs. "Blessed are those who have been persecuted." The eighth beatitude struck me then as intensely comforting and still does. In 2008, it just might be the message Mary Magdalene wants us to hear on her particular day.
The GuardianTracy Quan
You guys...(head cocked, fists on hips)
The entries are already "piling" in. I laughed out loud they were so funny.
From John:
One in hand is twice in the bush.
From Anonymous:
I pickle my own.
Is that a Japanese cucumber in your pocket or are you just Japanese?
I "heart" cucumbers (sexually).
Putting the cum in cucumber since (INSERT YEAR OF FIRST CUCUMBER SPECIFIC SEXUAL EXPERIENCE HERE.)
[WHO ARE YOU, ANONYMOUS? THESE ARE ALL HILARIOUS.]
And though it's not quite a slogan yet, this entry from Jimmy could be the beginning of a Catherine Hardwicke film:
I was trying to come up w/ some before I went to sleep last night but I READ the post yesterday morning (sigh). Anyway, you should just put "The earth is my boyfriend" and have the cucumber above that text. I can't imagine any girl wanting to wear that though, not any girl I'd respect. Then I was trying to see how I can bring that "cum" out of cucumber and work w/ that somehow, but I couldn't.
From John:
One in hand is twice in the bush.
From Anonymous:
I pickle my own.
Is that a Japanese cucumber in your pocket or are you just Japanese?
I "heart" cucumbers (sexually).
Putting the cum in cucumber since (INSERT YEAR OF FIRST CUCUMBER SPECIFIC SEXUAL EXPERIENCE HERE.)
[WHO ARE YOU, ANONYMOUS? THESE ARE ALL HILARIOUS.]
And though it's not quite a slogan yet, this entry from Jimmy could be the beginning of a Catherine Hardwicke film:
I was trying to come up w/ some before I went to sleep last night but I READ the post yesterday morning (sigh). Anyway, you should just put "The earth is my boyfriend" and have the cucumber above that text. I can't imagine any girl wanting to wear that though, not any girl I'd respect. Then I was trying to see how I can bring that "cum" out of cucumber and work w/ that somehow, but I couldn't.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Dry T-Shirt Contest #3
A month ago:
Today:
Cucumber Forest!
(Insert inappropriate phallus joke here)
So I'm back on my contest-silkscreening kick again. I owe at least one of you a T-shirt of a Korean holding the Stars & Bars, for being the only one to submit an entry to Dry T-Shirt Contest #2: Korean Tourist Slogans. (Actually if you send me a monochrome image to burn I'll happily do it asap-er.)
Just to refresh everyone's memory, Dry T-Shirt Contest #1: D.R.U.G.S was never won by anyone because it was like a five-way tie of single votes. So, I sent my reward (a Maine-themed T-shirt) to the only person whose submission actually came from The Vacation State.
But Dry T-Shirt Contest #3 is the Dry T-Shirt Contest to end all Dry T-Shirt Contests...Literally.
INSERT INAPPROPRIATE CUCUMBER PHALLUS JOKE HERE.
The best cucumber-phallus joke gets their joke on a T-shirt. It's that simple.
I know how hard this is going to be, but I believe in you. More importantly, I believe in cukes.
Today:
Cucumber Forest!(Insert inappropriate phallus joke here)
So I'm back on my contest-silkscreening kick again. I owe at least one of you a T-shirt of a Korean holding the Stars & Bars, for being the only one to submit an entry to Dry T-Shirt Contest #2: Korean Tourist Slogans. (Actually if you send me a monochrome image to burn I'll happily do it asap-er.)
Just to refresh everyone's memory, Dry T-Shirt Contest #1: D.R.U.G.S was never won by anyone because it was like a five-way tie of single votes. So, I sent my reward (a Maine-themed T-shirt) to the only person whose submission actually came from The Vacation State.
But Dry T-Shirt Contest #3 is the Dry T-Shirt Contest to end all Dry T-Shirt Contests...Literally.
INSERT INAPPROPRIATE CUCUMBER PHALLUS JOKE HERE.
The best cucumber-phallus joke gets their joke on a T-shirt. It's that simple.
I know how hard this is going to be, but I believe in you. More importantly, I believe in cukes.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Dangerous Streets of New York
This whole neighborhood has been under construction lately. The sidewalks are now improvised by orange cones, fences, and slow/stop sign-wielding workers. Then THIS just happened!
(Look for the little white bus crushed into the side of the building. It looks way gnarlier in person.)
Cross Culture
Exhibit A from The LA Times:
Randy Newman’s getting his apologies out of the way early. His new album, “Harps & Angels,” isn’t out until Aug. 5, but he knows he’s going to take some hits for the song “Korean Parents,” a portrait of race relations as played out in public education.
Korean parents for sale
You say you need a little discipline
Someone to whip you into shape
They’ll be strict but they’ll be fair
Exhibit B from Playbill:
The new Broadway production of the landmark musical West Side Story, directed by librettist Arthur Laurents, will begin previews Feb. 23, 2009, at a Nederlander theatre to be announced, the producers confirmed July 16.
West! Side! Story!!!
Randy Newman’s getting his apologies out of the way early. His new album, “Harps & Angels,” isn’t out until Aug. 5, but he knows he’s going to take some hits for the song “Korean Parents,” a portrait of race relations as played out in public education.
Korean parents for sale
You say you need a little discipline
Someone to whip you into shape
They’ll be strict but they’ll be fair
Exhibit B from Playbill:
The new Broadway production of the landmark musical West Side Story, directed by librettist Arthur Laurents, will begin previews Feb. 23, 2009, at a Nederlander theatre to be announced, the producers confirmed July 16.
The production "will introduce the unprecedented element of selectively weaving Spanish throughout both the book and songs," according to the July 16 announcement.
West! Side! Story!!!
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