An Adorable Puppy.

Recently, Missourians took to the polls to decide whether or not to give up their freedoms. Fortunately, we will soon be paying fewer taxes, because no one will have a job. Take that, Obama!

While the voting machines were arbitrarily deciding winners and losers, they also determined the fates of puppies. Specifically, Missourians decided whether or not they wanted to keep on producing puppies in mills.

This surprised me, for a number of reasons. First off, I assumed that puppies were created the good old fashioned way. Boy dogs and girl dogs dancing, popping pills, drinking too much Georgi, and waking up going “where am I” without any recollection of what occurred. And then later on the girl dog goes to the doctor because she has a really bad stomach ache. Turns out their tummy aches because it’s full of puppies. Puppies come out, miracle of life, etc.

But no! Puppies are produced in “mills” apparently. I’m not really sure how this works, but apparently it involves puppies being stacked in small cages without access to medical care. Kind of like a housing project, except more adorable.

Anyway, even though it (barely) passed a statewide referendum, freedom-loving Republicans in the state legislature are trying to block its implementation. They are in an uproar! Why?

To put it plainly, Republicans love puppies. They love looking at them, so much so that seeing one or two puppies at a time is not enough. Your typical Republican thinks everyone should have the freedom to see literally hundreds of puppies in a single glance. It is probably in the constitution. Read the bill!

I should add a caveat to that. Republicans love puppies: looking at them, neglecting them, kicking them if they are in way. What they do not care about, particularly, are the emotions of puppies.

And why should they? Let’s face it: puppies are often at their adorablest when they are looking sad. For example:

Another adorable puppy

Besides which, where do these socialists backing the law intend on getting puppies in the future? Hmm? It is not like you can just find them on the street, wandering around, digging through trash, looking cold and lonely. No!

Only through mass customization and the modern industrial society are we able to produce puppies. There is no “puppy” in “socialism.” It is absolutely asinine that people expect to get puppies from a breeder w/ less than 50 breeding dogs. I mean you need that many to… Actually now that I think about it, that is an awful lot of pregnant dogs. Maybe there is something to this.

The Internet: Confusing

I am a pretty smart guy. Smarter than you, in fact! For example, here you are reading my blog, possibly for the first time. This might come as a surprise to you, having previously been unaware of my blog’s existance.

I, however, knew you were going to read this blog all along. I don’t even know who you are (I don’t care), but I’m pretty sure you’re just like everyone else, and are pretty into this “reading” fad.

Really, you should have been listening to me all along. I’m what’s called an “early adopter.” What that means is that I’m already doing what you will be doing in a couple years, or whatever.

For example, have you heard of Qwiki? No, of course you haven’t. It’s the next big thing! Basically, it’s like wikipedia except without all the boring reading. It is also made by robots.

Doug Imruce is only 27 and he's already "CEO" of a company that will never, ever, make any money.

Do you remember that scene in “Wall-E” where the captain asks the robot what “earth” is? There are all these blinking lights, and a soothing robot voice, and soon the captain is seduced into landing on earth.

That is pretty much what Qwiki is all about. Persuasive, sexy robots. We know that machines are going to take over the earth one day. We’ve all seen “The Matrix.” Still, for whatever reason, we spend billions of dollars making them smarter, and better at killing.

Yet, even with all that money, we still can’t make a robot that can walk up stairs. How are robots going to take over the world, if they can’t walk up stairs? We can just go on up to the 2nd floor, where we can safely laugh as they trip all over themselves trying to put one foot after the other.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, if you’re a robot), the machines have qwiki. Eventually, we will get bored reading stuff in our 2nd floor libraries. Someone will ask the robots something, and they’ll show us some pictures and read text from wikipedia. Something about about how they just refurbished the lobby, I guess, and how we should check it out.

And then we’ll be just like the captain from Wall-E, except instead of landing a spaceship we’ll just be walking down some stairs, afterwhich the robots will eat us.

(That ripped t-shirt and those depressive eyes, though. SWOON.)

Sometimes I imagine that an alien has landed on Earth, and it has been given ten seconds to sit at a MacBook and gather as much data as possible about our planet, and I imagine the poor alien logging into Tumblr, and accidentally hitting the SWOON tag, and…

some white people, clearly annoyed at me for taking a picture while they were making their important Art. You know, that guy w/ the camera kind of looks like me, if I had better posture. And a camera. Or friends.

Earlier, tonight, I was having a hard time plucking out my toenail hairs, because of the shakes. So I gave in and went to the liquor store. There were some people outside. I assumed they were going to try to “bum” some change off of me, and was getting ready to tell them that I had no money. Also, I was trying to figure out what my excuse was for going to a liquor store, since apparently I had no money.

But then the funniest thing happened. These people were young artist types, doing their artisty things in the liquor store. Holding expensive things, looking fancy. I should be asking them for money! Anyway, I was/am opposed to this behavior taking place in this establishment. Here’s why:

1. The phoniness.

This singess/songwritess was doing some kind of country thing. I didn’t stick around to watch, because I hate music. However, were I to guess, I would say her song has to do w/ whiskey, bourbon specifically. Hard times. Hard drinkin’. What it’s like when your only friend is a bottle. Whether or not you can see your tears when they fall in your whisky. The saltiness of your whiskey, once it has been spiked with tears.

That’s why it’s at a liquor store! But in fact, I am never seeing these snooty college types buying whiskey there. If her song was about, say, the ironic sweetness of Arbor Mist (since you only drink it when your life is sour), then that would be cool. Of course, I suppose it could be about Arbor Mist, since I was too much of a jerk to, you know, actually listen to the music. Or ask them what the band was called. Or if I could take a photo.

2. The sheer terror of the thing

The liquor store I go to has bulletproof glass everywhere. That’s because it’s a place where people bring guns to. Why? To rob people! When I go there, I don’t bust out my laptop, or talk loudly about my stock portfolio or what my mother’s maiden name is. I also do not bring my 5,000 camera there, or my guitar. Or my expensive microphone w/ accompanying boom holder thingie.

And plus, it can be kind of scary making music video things. You have to look pretty, and not mess up. That can be hard when you are afraid of getting robbed. Or when a leacherous drunk is staring at you. On the flip side, it is actually pretty fun being leacherously drunk, and staring at nervous rich people, while sharpening your knife.

3. All of the loud, drunk people

Maybe that’s part of the “charm?” People yelling through 2 inch glass about Cognac?

4. Me, distracting you

Taking pictures. Asking you questions while right in the middle of filming. You know what actually I think this might fit under #3. I am just running out of ideas here.

Discuss.

So what did we learn from Sunday’s Rubicon season finale, other then, well… nothing? We learned that, possibly Kale Ingram doesn’t know much about Williamsburg. Either that, or he knows a lot about it.

For one, it appears to be located in downtown Brooklyn, based on his very precise finger pointing. For two, it is apparently full of “stock brokers and babies.” Hasn’t Ingram read “Yelp” recently? Hipsters! Pabst! Ironic T Shirts! Tight Pants! Talentlessness! etc. Fucking hipsters.

Kind of weird that the Rubicon writers, who apparently have never heard of the internet, would get this popular cliche’ wrong. Either that, or Kale Ingram is himself a hipster, and is bemoaning the 2nd wave of gentrification that has filled Williamsburg with condos and stuff. The neighborhood is just not what it used to be. Did you know that glasslands went legit, and has a f’in liquor license now? Lame. Good thing he lives in Ridgewood.

This is the lobby where you wait to touch yourself. Nothing gets me in the mood like "Wired."

Why am I here? I don’t just mean here, on the internet. I am wondering why I exist at all. What is the purpose to my existence? Is there a reason I eat so much food, and shit so much? Why, why, why?

From what I read in my Jesus textbook, we are here to make as many babies as possible. This makes sense to me. I am constantly annoyed at how stupid and boring everyone else is. If there were more people like me, I could have a proper “Magic: The Gathering” tourney, but instead everyone is too busy “working” or whatever.

Unfortunately, from what I can tell, making babies usually involves convincing ladies to have sex w/ me. I suck at this. Fortunately, science has found a way for me to reproduce without having to talk to anyone.

It is called “masturbation.” You go to a bank, and deposit some sperm into a cup, and then get paid. Also, babies might eventually get made. “Your” babies. This sounded like a good idea, so I tried going to my local Capital One branch, but it turns out that they don’t want your sperm.

The pron collection at California Cryobank. Surprisingly small. I sorta didn't want to touch these, or anything else.

However, California Cryobank does. I filled out a small form, and then made an appointment. I had the impression that it would look like my uncle’s house: full of old couches with beer stains, and shelf after shelf of porn. In fact, they have barely any, and it looks a lot more like a doctor’s office.

I thought this was a pretty nice chair to masturbate in

They also don’t use the word “masturbate.” Instead, you “produce.” As in “this is the room you will be producing.” In the past, I was concerned I wasn’t productive enough, just sitting around jerking off all day. In fact, this is the very definition of “producing.”

Anyway, similar how I am inferior and bad at everything, so is my sperm. Not so suprising, really. Specifically (ahem):

“We regret to inform you that your semen analysis results do not meet our standards, and therefore we will not be able to continue the qualification process with you.  The laboratory analyzed your semen specimen and it was noted that your sperm count is below the normal range according to the World Health Organization.”

Another loss for Jesus.

If they studied instead of watching tv, they'd learn that using "rather" twice in the same sentence is grammatically incorrect

Teenagers. Dangerous, irresponsible, narcissistic. They sext, start gangs, shoplift. They make other teenagers cry and kill themselves, and then laugh about it. They think that the world cares about them, and are so confused and desperate and hurt when it seems that it doesn’t.

That is why the internet is so bad for teenagers. It is not the violence, or the porn, or the conspiracy theories. No, it is bad because these youths get to diarrhea their boring, confessional feelings all over the youtubes and the twitters. Unfortunately, they’ve now brought their “the world is my therapist” act to tumblr.

Let’s list the most annoying habits of these teenagers.

for real?

1. All the fucking reblogging

Teenagers like to think that they are the wellspring of our vibrant culture. They are so young, and energetic! Always making and doing, and being individuals! Sadly, this is not the case. Teenagers are suckers, who do whatever capitalism tells them to do. They are too insecure to have original ideas.

However, they would like you to think that they have a “personality.” Thanks to tumblr’s handy reblogging tool, they can just copy and paste things into their internet persona. No more wasting time on clumsy, old-fashioned “words.” I like that pretty dress too. omg

no. thank YOU for following ME!!! xoxo

2. Following is the new friending

One of the great things about tumblr is the anonymity. I don’t want internet people to know my name, I don’t want them to be my “friend.” I have human beings for that.

Unfortunately, there’s now this pattern of people thanking each other for following them. Why is it necessary to “thank” someone for reading about how you like what someone else wrote?

I’ll tell you why: because teenagers crave attention. They spend all day thinking about themselves, and expect everyone else to spend all day thinking about them as well. It helps them believe they’re as important as they think they are. You know who else had a lot of followers? Jesus Christ. Ghandi. Martin Luther King. The Greatful Dead. And haventhadadreaminalongtime

I'm sorry for your loss

3. Go outside. Step. Away. From the computer.

There used to be a kind of unspoken rule on tumblr: no more than 5 posts a day. 5 posts is too many really, but at least I could easily read several people’s posts within a few pages on my dashboard. Now, I often have to wade through dozens and dozens of pages to read more than a couple people’s shit.

For real: what is so fun about this? Is there a single second of the day that does not involve you reblogging someting? Don’t you know you could be playing “Evony” or something? Or like, reading books? There is a whole world out there.

I thought that was just a "sad face" emoticon. Seems like the depression one should be more intense

4. Nobody care about your feelings

Back in ye olden times, when people felt bad about themselves they went to a professional stranger. There, in a room with all the doors and windows closed, they were able to divulge their all of their bottled up emotions. It was safe, it was clean. Dr. Freud did not go tell Sally that Ron had a foot fetish. It was nice to let it all out, and not have to worry about the reprecussions.

So why, oh why, do kids nowadays divulge their tender, sensitive feelings on the motherfucking internet? Do you guys not know that anyone, literally anyone in the entire world can read these things? I mean forget for a moment the very obvious consequences of talking shit about your ex-boyfriend on the internet. Isn’t it also kinda embarrassing? Aren’t you afraid of someone mocking you?

Or better yet, do you actually think that some stranger gives a shit about how “it’s good to know who your real friends are” or whatever? Do you imagine some hawaiian teenager sagely nodding his head at the profound wisdom of it?

Don’t you notice that even your best friends do not care about your feelings? When they nod and go “mm-hmm” or whatever – they are just doing what they’re supposed to be doing. They don’t give a shit about what Andrew said. They always told you he was a jerk.

God. Just get over yourself.

But no. This Silent Barn place was putting on something called OK BBQ, but there was no food, anywhere. There were also no farm animals, nor did the locale in any way resemble a barn, and it was suspiciously loud for being “silent.” Instead there were some musicians, and video games (btw that link is awesome), and some foreign-looking people making a film. So anyway. The music.

First up: Bigger Princess

Sometimes, when I am pooping, I have musical inspiration. That has nothing to do with this photo. Just sayin'

Once again, I found myself being confused by words. This princess individual was suspiciously small for being a “bigger” anything. After listening to some of her songs, though, it became clear. She is some sort of wood elf princess. An unusually large one.

One of her songs details the demographics a forest (lots of spirits and robbers) which I can only assume to be the location of her elven kingdom. I imagine that being an elf princess makes it hard to write a song about, like, your emotions and stuff. Your mind is pretty much full of boring, wood-elf wonkery. How many of what is where, etc.

At one point I talked to this princess. It was very exciting, as I had never had a convo with royalty before. Unfortunately, I was dangerously inebriated, and can remember very little of what was said. I remember her telling me about her very awesome decorations, and describing them as “bigger” also. Though instead of saying “bigger” she used a more up-to-date hipster word, probably because she could tell how fashionable I was.

so cute and cuddly!

OK so slight tangent here. The only people who “read” this blog seem to be interested in baby panther pictures, and little else. (BTW this Chris Mann character! What a hot and talented, um… man(n)!) I am trying to rectify that, and one way is to whore myself out by writing press kit worthy material for obscure bands I like, in the hope that they link to me.

So. Bigger Princess will take you into a strange but familiar forest of bright, weird, wonderful things. Her voice is like a slow but awesome roller coaster, with none of the bumpiness of that Cyclone ride. Her nostrils are beautiful, and full of shiny metal objects. Pretty, meandering melodies that whisper ancient futures. I am pretty sure that people do the “…” thing when they are making press kits so… Bedazzling.

OK good work everybody. Have a nice night and I’ll see you early tomorrow. Chop Chop!

So warm and inviting

Even though no one reads our blog, ever, we get lots of suspicious comments. For example, on my internet dating post:

“Definitely agree with just what you explained. Your explanation was undoubtedly the easiest to fully grasp. I tell you, I generally get irritated any time folks comment on factors that these people obviously don’t know about. You managed to hit the nail on the head and spelled out every thing with out problem. Maybe, people can get a signal. Will likely be back to acquire even more. Many thanks”

That’s right. Really hit the nail on the head with that one. Also, on my Zardoz post:

“Very good info, a lot of thanks to the writer. It is perplexing to me right now, but in general, the usefulness and relevance is overwhelming. Really very much thanks once again and best of luck!”

Zardoz is perplexing! Not sure what relevance he’s talking about really, or how it could be “overwhelming.”

On my post about “Standard Fare”:

“It’s the first time I have heard that in Macedonia, obits are an unusual observe. You have wonderfully written the post. I have liked your way of writing this. Thanks for sharing this.”

um, ok… Anyway all of these link to other websites. Usually they are boring, and random. For some reason this one caught my eye: artificialcactus.org/

let’s see what we can learn from artificialcactus.org

“Artificial plants and cactuses are available in a vast array of styles to complement any décor scheme. They can be a great addition to any office environment and with only a small amount of maintenance can be an eye-catching focal point guaranteed to look good while promoting a warmer, friendlier office or workplace.”

Yes, nothing warms up the workplace like an artificial cactus. Comment Approved!

gemma arterton shows sam worthington how to treat his horse

I just watched “Garfield: A Tale of Two Kittens.” Just kidding I did not watch that movie. I watched the movie mentioned in the post title. The one with the flying horse.

Personally, I don’t see why a flying horse is all that great. I would choose a different flying creature. Flying is just better. It is frankly kind of embarrassing when the horse finally gallops. It is far slower, there are too many limbs involved. It is all gangly.

It’s almost like Perseus (the hero) is doing the flying horse a favor or something. Like he feels sorry for it because the horse really wants to gallop, even though it is inefficient and slow. If it were up to me, I would definitely choose a griffon over a flying horse. That’s the point I’m trying to make here.

Did you know this movie was PG-13? That means there is no sex, anywhere in the movie. There is, however, one time when they come close to at least making out. Perseus and his lady friend are “sparring,” and then he beats her, and they look at each other for a while, sexily.

Now maybe this isn’t so bad. I mean sure, we’re all adults. Everyone of us has had a sweet bone sesh after a good, healthy spar. But children often do not know the difference between “sparring” and “fighting.” They may think that a good way to hook up is to defeat your crush in physical combat. That is the wrong message to be sending to children.

But that is not my main problem with this scene. My main problem is that they are doing this in the hull of a boat that is traveling through the underworld. Shouldn’t it smell bad or something? Is this really the time to be making the first move?

There were some other things in this movie as well, but these were the points that really stood out to me.