Category Archives: w/r/t the internet

Feb 18 2011

morgan and destiny’s eleventeeth date – the zeppelin zoo

You have seven minutes to spare, right?

Okay, yes I know. If we calculate for inflation, today’s seven minutes is like 2.758 years back in 1950. I get it.

But here’s the thing: you’re going to spend seven minutes on the internet today. You can stop in at all the sites you stop in at every day.

Or you can watch something awesome.

I vote for awesome.

http://www.viddler.com/player/6abb602b/

Now. If you have more than seven minutes, hope on over to hitRECord.org and learn about how this was made.1

It’s pretty much the best thing about the internet since…well maybe ever.

  1. The intro video on the homepage will tell you.
Mar 23 2010

the OO in ohio

From Good Magazine’s website:

Click on the image to learn 14 more awesome things about boobs.

Now, I used to subscribe to Good Magazine. I’ve been a fan of it since issue one came out about three years ago.(1) It’s an environmentally oriented magazine and they really try to do some good out there. For example, your entire subscription fee is donated to a charity of your choice.(2) They write about out-of-the-way places and out-of-the-way ideas. They keep current, and they work hard to provide a good mag with good information.(3)

Being familiar with them, let me tell you that a) they come up with the best infographics, and b) they do their mothereffing research.

So how the hell did this start-up media outlet based in California know that they state I fucking live in legally allows women to be topless, and I did not?

It a travesty of double-D proportions.

Does this mean that women are allowed to be topless anywhere in the state? Or is this bosomy freedom relegated to particular venues.(4) I don’t really want to go to a stripclub, if that’s what they mean. On the other hand, if women can chill out topless at the park, well…I’m going to the park.

Can someone will some legal background look into this and get back to me please?

Thanks.

  1. I don’t subscribe anymore because a) they’re not actually so great about getting you the issues they promised to get you and b) because pretty much all the content in the mag is available online…for free.
  2. I’m not sure how the hell they’re still around, given this policy, but it’s a great thing to do.
  3. Pardon the pun back there.
Mar 16 2010

Papasmurffbitch

I found this post on Craigslist.

Dear Craigslister:

I could go on about how you’re giving the rest of us a bad name. I could mention that if you were so full of awesome you wouldn’t be posting on Craigs-fucking-list. But maybe I should give you the benefit of the doubt.

Okay. Maybe you are the one who possesses angelic and demonic voices. Sure. I’ll give you that, since I don’t know you and since, so far, science has not shown a connection between musical talent and the ability to press the spell-check button.

And maybe you do, in fact, project frequencies from your being….Actually, I’m sure you do. It’s called talking.

You could be the notes that are not played. I suppose you could also be the voice that is not heard. But can you be the fingers that do not type? Or the poster that doesn’t post?

You can say you’re into a lot of different genres. Sure. But let me tell you something about Metal, Hard Rock, Death Metal, Black Metal, Thrash, Progressive metal, Progressive Rock, Classic Rock, Metalcore, Breakbeat, Grindcore: they are all different words for the same fucking thing! Tell me you’re into Celine Dion, Pantera, Sufjan Stevens, Hungarian folk music, traditional Yiddish dance songs, chamber music and Yanni and I’ll tell you you’re into different genres. The only things I can tell you about the different genres you listed is a) you like screaming, and b) you’re probably a douchebag.

But you know what? Maybe you are one hardcore motherfucker. Maybe you have a tattoo of a graveyard at midnight on the head of your pierced cock. Maybe you pierced your cock yourself one night with a screwdriver and bottle of gin. Maybe you tear the filters off your cigarettes and light them with a fucking stick of dynamite. Maybe you fucked all of Biloxi in the middle of a hurricane while eating raw steak right off the bone. I simply do not know.

But at the end of the day you still chose Papasmurffbitch as your fucking email handle.

So, go. Hardcore it up, my friend. Be awesome. Be the notes that are not played. Be Papasmurffbitch.