…with the standard example”>http://www.sjgames.com/illuminati/politics.html”>example of two cows, of course. Now I know alot of big words… and how they apply to… two cows.
Someone had alot of free time, but I think it was put to good use.
These look like rather unassuming figures, but having met them up close myself, I beg to differ. To your left, you find Ninj. Ninj is a quiet fellow and one is inclined to think that he is thinking about issues of honor in his silent moments. Whether this is true or not has yet to be seen. He is very skilled in the black arts of the Ninja, if that exists, and I trust that he could fend off his pal Toast if it ever came down to that. Such an entanglement, however, would certainly signal a global struggle of good over evil.
To your right, you find Toast–the most unsettling of the pair. In sharp contrast to Ninj’s somewhat calming silence, Toast’s manner makes my soul quake. His lifeless but alluring eyes make you question the origin of each and every thought in your mind. Am I thinking that? Is Toast making me think that? He has the ability to sneak up on you, much like Ninj, only with Toast, you are quite certain you have physically lost a piece of your essence in the process. His foot steps fall in a sickening scamper, much like the sound a dismebodied hand would make.
The pair seem to have an alliance but I do not know to what end. This unholy alliance will hopefully last, as I see it as a direct indication of the state of the balance of good and evil in the universe. Admittedly, I shudder in the darkness when both are in my room. Not even Stumpy seems poised to protect me from their plotting. He is a very trusting cat.
For more on the spread of their world domination click here for SuperFunFun.
In a departure from his usual writings–normally rich in humour, observation and carefully drawn vignettes; Douglas Coupland has released a new compendium entitled simply, “JBot”.
Unlike his works, “Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture”, “Microserfs”, and his recent “JPod”; Coupland has released what can only be termed a user’s manual for the new millenia of JBot.
It is a well known fact that today’s JBots require a high level of maintenance, both financial, physical, and social. Coupland expounds on ways to manage these requirements with a whit and cynicism that only he can provide. Many of his discussions draw upon real world examples with JBots. Here is an excerpt.
“For instance, when taking your JBot to a social occasion, be sure to arm yourself with a plethora of inane conversation, lest you find yourself in the midst of a commentary on the inability of your JBot to dispose of Charmin Ultra down the toilet in one, efficient flush as she speaks candidly to the wife of some senator.”
Besides advice, the book also contains a number of diagrams and lists, including a detailed map of all potential areas for odorous erruptions, a laminated quick reference for prevention of salivary leakage, and an indepth feeding regimen checklist. There is also a small section on Maneuverie d’Octopussoire, but his treatment of this area is understandably light.
All in all, I recommend it to all owners or renters of the newest series of JBot. This is especially true in these troubled times when JBot related fatalities have been on the rise.
On another note, upon finding out that Coupland is gay, I found one of his previous works took on a whole new meaning when I pictured him waving, rather limp-wristedly, and saying with the stereotypical inflection “Hey Nostradamus!”… FABULOUS.
I was writing an email and I wanted to use the word “oaf”. Like, “I felt like a big oaf”. I couldn’t figure out how to spell it for the life of me. So, I decided to use the thesaurus and look up “dolt”. It seemed like a pretty good approximation of an oaf. Low and behold, it yielded the answer. It is spelled OAF. Here are some other synonyms… airhead*, ass, blockhead*, bobby, boob*, chump*, clod, dimwit*, dodo*, dope, dork*, dumbbell*, dumdum*, dunce, fool, goon*, idiot, ignoramus, lamebrain*, lunkhead*, meathead*, nitwit*, oaf, sap*, simpleton, stupe, yo-yo*. The ones denoted with an (*) are SLANG.
I am also a fan of clod, boob, dope, and goon.
Not to say that I have social anxiety, but I have seriously considered faking my own death to avoid returning a phone call. It would certainly make MY life alot easier. It would be so much simpler to just, POOF, end an awkward social entanglement with a death notice. Nobody is really at fault. You just, well, died. Not much YOU can do about it really. And then you could avoid all of the flowery and phony explanations as to why you’d really rather just ’see other people’ with the nosy neighbor, or, in my case, an elderly aquaintance.
It would also be an exciting opportunity to learn about a new area, as you would most certainly have to move. To be practical, it would have to be somewhat socially acceptable to fake your death, so that your circle of friends would be ready to keep up the facade of your death in case a chance meeting with your target should occur for them. In reality, you should only fake one death per state really, or at least per county. It’s much easier on EVERYONE.
Anyway, I’m considering it, because being honest and upfront, just doesn’t work out for me.
No, it’s not the Extreme Vaginal Makeover episode of Drawn Together. I am referring to, of course, the extreme makeover of Muffin Stump or “Stumpy” for short.
After deciding that Muffin Face was gone for good–having left me to continue her career in the world of espionage, I thought to myself, “What Would Willie Moe do?” Willie Moe was, of course, the cat whose passing began this whole adventure. Well, Willie Moe would tell me to pick the underdog–the cat with FIV, almost no teeth, ear mites, an upper respiratory infection, fleas, a prevalent urine smell in his coat, and possibly worms. So, that’s what I did.
As you might recall, Stumpy, or ‘Knuckles” as he was previously referred to, came to us through an amazing capture by Sora.
He looked like he had definitely seen better days.
Now that he has been cleaned up and treated very graciously by a local vet, I have taken him home to live with me. I must say, you’d hardly know that he was the same cat.
Here he is sleeping off a tough morning of eating wet cat food and licking his ass.
Here, he is showing his displeasure, not only with having his picture taken, but also with my use of the laptop in general. When he takes over the world, many of you will see his image coming across YOUR screen in the very same manner, as he shows his displeasure for any of your waking moments not solely devoted to him.
So far, he has been a bit disappointing in the personal hygiene area, but, as I will explain later, this could very well be part of his ninja-like repertoire–and by Ninja, I mean the direct opposite.
Recently, I have also been privy, through an undisclosed contact, to some of Stumpy’s past and I will share it posthaste. All I can say is–Kitty porn.
With all that is going on in the world today, I have been a bit preoccupied with the idea of some kind of impending apocalypse. Something to the scale of “Mad Max”. Although I have tempered my fears about this somewhat; through distractions such as “Real Simple” and “Domino” magazines, hours upon hours of HGTV and the Food Network, and playing on my Mac, it still pervades my life–if not in subtler ways. A subtler way could be my interest in car repair. It’s good to know how to fix a car or modify a school bus, should the worst happen.
After going on a number of errands with Sora, it was increasingly obvious (no pun intended) that the world, or perhaps just America, is getting fatter. Some, disgustingly so.
On the drive back from Stop & Shop this evening, it occurred to me that it would be pretty ironic if, in fact, when the apocalypse comes, the fat people are the ones who survive because well, they are fat and have much larger stores than us skinny people. But, then again, would they, in fact, die QUICKER due to heart attacks and such as they were forced to scale giant, lifeless hillsides in search of uncontaminated water.
It was decided that a television special should be devoted to this question–preferably on Dateline and hosted by Geraldo Rivera. It would be called, “Fat or Fiction”
