I mean, my old VHS tapes don’t mean anything to me, but they obviously must to somebody, if only the guys who lost out at Betamax. Seriously, this is the world’s greatest idea since my Meth Heads Cleaning Service idea: I get my old trash removed and somebody somewhere gets a wish out of the deal.
Spin Dawg was one of the best scratchers we'd ever heard
I had no idea this was even a thing, let alone a steady job with a national competition. Ladies and gentlemen, Little Caesars Sign Spinning:
This is what I do on a daily bases trying to earn money for college.
I hope he made enough to go to the college of his choice, and I hope the young lad managed to take some English classes while he was there.
You can see more of these poor, desperate, whirling dervishes at Buzzfeed.
With an intro like that, what can this fabulous, magical Unicorn Chaser possibly be? Well, when looking for a unicorn chaser there are few key elements any savvy consumer should check for:
What does this add up to? That’s right: MONKEES!
Consequently, when I ran across the following on YouTube, I knew I had to have it. Not only are the Monkees themselves absolutely made all of the things above except possibly unicorns (I’ve never placed them in a pentagram and spoken the Words of Command, so I just don’t know) but this video is a satire, one of the Literal Video versions in which the subtitles and redubbed vocals (hey, that’s a pretty good Davy, but the chorus can’t carry a tune in a lolrus bukkit) simply narrate what is actually going on in the video. The greatest of these, of course, is the Bonnie Tyler “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” itself a high water mark of musical geniositosnouss. While this much simpler video does not reach those heights, depths, or whatevers, it’s still fun and cute and hey, I still dance better than Davy ever did, so GO ME, right?
Amirite?
Just another typical midnight online. Another typical midnight when Nicole Dobernig, someone I’d clashed with weeks ago over spamming me appears out of the blue from yet another of her accounts (even her parrot’s account was attacking me the last time, but she did eventually realize it was a bad idea to use one of her clients‘ professional accounts to wage a flamewar, and deleted the tweets) and, of course, starts berating me. Because there’s nothing good on tv, I guess.
After challenging me to a “Rumble in Gastown” at the Heather and tossing off “fattyfatfat” insults like a cornered schoolyard bully, she did something truly unforgiveable:
She bored me.
I’m sorry, but there is just so much watered-down Eckhart Tolle and “I am an enlieteneded person of kindnesss” crapola a person can take. Surely the UN has some sort of law against this Torture By Oprah-ism? Click over the jump to see what it looks like when a small brain snaps under the weight of hostility and New Ageism. As always, read from the bottom up to get the full chronological effect:
Those goddamn “morale-boosting” job reviews. Like this one: (Oh, definitely, definitely NSFW unless you work someplace just as bad already)
This post sponsored by my sense of outrage at one woman’s request to dumb down the internet for the sake of her nine-year-old, who certainly knows those words already and probably wouldn’t be shocked by the news that Mommy doesn’t control the whole world, although Mommy might.
Also: not the first time we’ve dealt with this.
raincoaster 