Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Blog Fail


Twitter Fail

I've been trying to Twitter lately. It was fun at first, I guess. A few bloggers appeared out there. I 'followed' a few, most of whom did not follow me back. Yes, it pissed me off. Still, I followed them and they didn't say much. I did the Twitter thing and had my usual more-than-you-wanted-to-know to say. I made a few friends. It's hard to be really good friends in 140 characters or less. But after awhile Twitter really wore on my nerves.

First of all, Twitter's website grabs my CPU by the balls and just squeezes until my computer is crying and vomiting and eventually passes out. I don't much appreciate this. I don't need a 'casual' website for socializing that does this to me while I'm trying to do other things in the meantime. It's hard to get anything done when my browser is wheezing and screaming and won't let my computer take a breath.

Secondly, lately when I go to type anything, I type my 140 characters and am completely done with my thought, but the cursor on the screen hasn't moved at all. It doesn't show anything I've just written for about 10 minutes. Then suddenly it throws it all up there at once. Heaven forbid that I have any misspellings because going back and fixing it is a major pain in the ass.

Lastly, I'm pretty sure 99 percent of the people on Twitter are some sort of HR person or 'consultant' looking to either hire people away from other companies or sell something. This is not my idea of entertainment. I'd rather read smart-assed commentary on someone's blog and leave an equally smart-assed comment after the fact than to wade through the flood of salesmen and HR people out there. Personally I find the idea of using my best jokes on HR to be somehow ... I don't know ... wrong. HR is who fires you for emailing a really good joke. Why send it directly to them? And why are they on Twitter all day, anyway? Doesn't HR have something else to do, like, say, monitoring our emails?

And as an afterthought, who the fuck is Guy Kawasaki and why should I care what he has to say? He's like the king of Twitter or something. I guess that'd make him a twing? Either way, I don't follow him, but apparently everyone else does. He's like Twitter's version of Dooce. I don't follow Dooce, either.




Three gay guys were sitting in a hottub.

Suddenly a large wad of semen floats to the surface.

One of the gay guys looks digusted and says, "alright, who farted?"




Relationship Fail

Seriously, who doesn't look at this photo and think, "that dude is CREEPY"? Looking at this I'm thinking everyone should have known he was going to go bonko at some point. And the thing is, he looks like this in every photo I've seen of him. I wouldn't expect any decent-looking girl to be with him. Even ugly girls must look at this face and think, "where is my pepper spray?"

I had actually intended to write more about Chris "basher" Brown and Rihanna "mostly white" Fenty, but then I realized that I didn't care enough about these two Mouseketeers to bother. I can't get the image out of my head of them having a Three Stooges style slap fight in an Italian sports car with lots of screaming and "cut-it-out" before he finally makes a fist and throws a few awkward punches. Somehow it just brings to mind old family vacations with my older brother and three sisters. I'm sorry, but her injuries were minor compared to some I've experienced growing up in an age before the police raided people's homes every time a brother and sister slapped each other. The meanest person in my family was one of my older sisters. She would have torn Chris Brown up inside that car. I'm guessing that the only thing holding Rihanna back from winning the fight was the fact that she was in the passenger seat, which is on the right side of the car, and she's probably right-handed. I'll bet if they had switched seats she could have taken him.




A little boy goes to his mother and asks, "Mom, where do babies come from?"

The mother says, "a stork brings it."

The boys says, "Yeah, then who fucks the stork?"




Sympathy Fail

Apparently last week on Oprah, which I never watch, all she talked about was domestic violence. Well, not exactly 'domestic violence'. Actually, all she talked about was women who were treated badly by men. She totally ignored Matthew Winkler or Phil Hartman, two men famous for having been murdered in cold blood by their psychopathic, abusive wives. Apparently it isn't important when men are abused.

Also appearing on Priestess Oprah's Worship Hour was Tyra Banks, who has never been beaten by anyone, but wanted desperately to join in the conversation. So Tyra went on and on and on about how she once dated a guy who made her feel bad about herself. He never laid a hand on her, but he didn't talk nice to her sometimes. And as we all know, in the new feminized America, anything a man says is equated with an actual fist to the face or shotgun blast to the back because, well, sometimes women who weren't abused feel left out when women who were talk about their experiences. So we have to pretend that words are the same as actual physical injuries in order to make all feel welcomed.

Well, not all. Just women. No men are allowed in the 'Victim Class' that Oprah loves so much and which pays big, big money. Not Phil Hartman. Not Matthew Winkler. No men at all. Not even little boys who were raped by their very odd female teachers or gay Catholic Priests.

Not that I'm saying that emotional abuse isn't hurtful or harmful. It's just that it isn't by any stretch of the imagination the same as a vicious physical beating from the one you love.

You know, my dad used to tell me about a time long, long ago, when words were just words and people who constantly put others down in order to make themselves feel bigger and better were simply called "cunts", instead of the more politically charged "abusers". It's ironic, really, because by Oprah's standards my dad abused the shit out of me, but mostly only with words. So did my mom. So I guess I should be allowed to be on her show alongside Tyra, whose breasts are real, as she demonstrated repeatedly on her own show, which I also don't watch.

Still, one thing remains true even after all of this. Chris Brown is still a tool.




What do you get when you cross a genius with a hooker?

A fucking know-it-all


No comments:

Post a Comment