Me vs. the Internet

All right gentlemen, I know we've been on Priority One for the past forty-eight hours and we could all use more than a little shut-eye, but something's just come up that could have a profound effect on the outcome of this conflict.

Mary, the projector please.

Thank you.

At oh-eight-hundred hours a flight element from the 448th light bomber wing determined that the phrase "foodgoesinhere," when entered in Google, does not bring up our site as the first match. Instead, it directs to a Livejournal. A secondary flyby by one of our U-2s verified this finding twenty minutes ago. You can see some of our recon photos here. Major targets are indicated in red.

Gentlemen, I don't need to impress upon you the dire ramifications this could have. It is of the utmost strategic importance that "foodgoesinhere" Google searches direct to this site and only to this site. If a third party co-opts our dominance in this sphere, it could spill over into the wider Internet. There'd be outright panic, even open war. And none of us wants that. God knows none of us wants that.

I've been directed by Strategic Air Command to move us to Stage Three alert; all nuclear flight assets are to be primed and ready to go within fifteen minutes. As part of SAC's first strike group, we must be within enemy airspace with half an hour.

What's that Magilicutty?

Yes, we have Presidential authorization. Came over the horn at 0900. We're hot and authorized to launch following final confirmation.

Come again?

Yes, yes we're sure. We wouldn't be here by God if we weren't sure. Not a man here wanted this day to come, but it has. For the sakes of our children and our children's children, we can't affored to fail today. Ask yourselves: what kind of world do you want your boys and girls back home to grow up in? One where they speak Blogspotan, or Livejournalese? There's not really any choice here, gentlemen.

Anything else?

Go ahead, Lieutenant Carlisle.

No, as far we as we know, there's been no actual nuclear exchange or shots fired in anger at this point. All units will proceed to the fail safe point. If final authorization for go-ahead is not received, we'll turn right around.

Listen, we all hope we don't have to go through with it. This is the gravest responsibility any group of human beings has ever faced. But let me be frank gentlemen: it's not looking good. The President is going to be facing a lot of pressure from a lot of different directions to push the button. And when...if he does, we have to be ready to do our duty.

Our nation, and our people, expect no less of us. We've drilled this scenario a thousand times before. You're all well-trained, and you know what needs to be done. I have absolute faith in your abilities, come what may. May God be with us all, and if it is His will that we go to war today, may He in His infinite wisdom and power grant us swift victory.

Good hunting.

The lights please, Mary.

The Crappy Things in Life

At some point in your life, you will have to start taking pleasure in the little things, because the big things have become a horrible trainwreck of blood, and tears, and twisted metal. When you do come to that moment, I want you to remember this blotry, because it will help you get through the dark times. I'm not saying this point is coming soon, but it is coming, and I want you to be prepared for it.

For myself, my life now revolves around pooping. It's what I live for. When I'm not doing it, I wish I were. When I am pooping, I say, "Boy this sure is a fun activity. I'm glad I'm alive and not dead, because if I were dead, I wouldn't be able to poop!" Personally, I think pooping is God's greatest gift to humanity. Now matter how rich or how poor, how black or how white, how awesome or how totally lame, everyone poops. And everyone enjoys pooping. Pooping is something we can all get behind. Except starving children in Africa. They don't have anything to poop out. Because...they're starving. But other than that everyone poops, and everyone likes it. Well except, I imagine, people with hemorrhoids and other various and sundry anal inflamations and swellings. But those two groups aside, starving African children and hemorrhoidal people, and perhaps also hemorroidal African children, everyone poops and everyone is celebrating it.

Pooping is just something that makes people happy. It gives us a feeling of accomplishment. We've done something meaningful with our lives by expelling waste and maintaining our bodily functions. Sure it's not much, but it's something. And really, isn't that all we are in the end? The poo we pooped out? I think so. I think so.

In order to commemorate our common poophood, I felt it would be appropriate to name and classify various poops, that we might better understand our ubiquitous neighbor to the south.

1. Long John Silver
This poop is, despite popular misconception, named for its length rather than its color. It is, like most poops, brown to brownish-green or brownish-black in complexion.
Long John Silver is so named because of its seemingly interminable length. It just keeps on comin'. I personally enjoy a good Long John now and again, although they do take a bit more effort to expel than your regular bog-standard poo. Overall, the Long John Silver is a dependable, if slightly uninspired, poop.
Poop rating: 3/4

2. 21-Gun Salute
The 21-Gun salute is characterized by the rapid fire feel associated with its expulsion. It comes out in heavy, discrete bursts. Although the experience of the 21-Gun Salute can be gratifying and inspire strong feelings of patriotism, it can also be somewhat uncomfortable, depending on the number of volleys and the caliber of ammunition. An unusual poop, but not unwelcome.
Poop rating: 3/4

3. Bruce Willis
Named for the hero who destroyed a civilization-ending asteroid. Although that doesn't make too much sense because the poop really takes after the asteroid more than it does Bruce Willis. Like the asteroid of Armageddon, the Bruce Willis tends to be civilization ending. If you're lucky, a plucky team of astronauts and deep-oil drillers may be able to break the poop up into more manageable chunks which will disintegrate in earth's atmosphere, but most likely, it's all coming out at once. And it's not pretty.
Poop rating: 1/4

4. Old Man River
Old man river, that old man river,
He don't say nothin', but he must know somethin'
That old man river, he just keeps rolling along.

He don't plant tater's,
and we all know he don't pick cotton.
But them that plant 'em, are soon forgotten, that
Old man river, he just keeps rolling along, oh yes he does.

You and me, we sweat and toil,
Our bodies all achin' and racked with pain, now listen!
Poop rating: 2/4

5. Fart-Poo
Fart-Poo is a combination of a poo and a fart all rolled into one. This is something of a double-edged sword, however. While fart-poo has the distinction of combining the sense of self worth that accompanies a good dump with the grim satisfaction of smelling one's one fart, it also can prove highly embarassing. In a public restroom situation, the fart-poo has the dubious distinction of combining the pungent odor of a big poo with the audio of a loud, juicy fart. It's not easy to meet someone's gaze upon exiting your stall if you've just produced a fart-poo. Potentially the most powerful of poos, but also the most dangerous.
Poop rating: Varies between 1 and 4 of 4.

In conclusion, poop, or poo as it is sometimes known, is one of life's greatest gifts. We all poop, but we don't usually think much about it, much less talk about it. Well, except for me, obviously. I hope that the next time you're on the john, you'll say a little "thank-you" to our friend, the poop.

Life doesn't make sense

I was spellchecking my blog the other day, and I realized the spellcheck doesn't have the word "blogs" in its spellchecker database.

Did you ever realize that life just doesn't make any sense? That everything that's happening is just absolutely batshit insane? There's a very, very thin veneer of sanity, a saran wrap membrane of reason stretched taut over a 3 day old pasta of madness and chaos. All it takes it the tiniest pinprick to pierce that seal and let the infinite delirium out. And when it does get out, there's no putting the genie back in the bottle. That toothpaste ain't going back in the tube. That cat is out of the bag and it it's not eager to return. The poop is in the toilet and it's there to stay. Well, you get the idea. Once you've seen the truth in all its unfettered beauty/terror there's no going back.

Why did they choose not to put the plural form of blog in the spellchecker? I'm pretty sure the singular is in there, so why leave the plural out? Where does the spellchecker database come from anyway? It also doesn't have "snot" or "Edward James Olmos" in it, so it's clearly not comprehensive. Well it has Edward and James, but not Olmos. And without the Olmos you really have a pretty generic sounding name. James Edward. Or Edward James. Either way it's not really remarkable. But with the Olmos, boy-howdy you immediately think of the acne-scarred pit faced actor who starred in such notable films as Blade Runner, and...

I think I'm in man-love with Edward James Olmos.

In other news, and getting back to the madness theme, I realized that I have something in common with dogs. Well, one very particular dog, anyway. Rusty the dachshund. No we don't both eat our own vomit.

Ok we both do, but that's not what I was thinking of. What Rusty and I have in common is an inability to focus. You see, Rusty has narcolepsy.

Rusty is a narcoleptic dog.

He falls asleep when he's TRYING TO DO OTHER THINGS.
(He must be a Mexican immigrant). (Ba-zing).

This is my life writ dog! I pretty much would rather sleep than do anything else. Certainly, my laziness has essentially prevented me from accomplishing anything meaningful in my life. Go eat grass? No thank you, I think I'll just lay down. Romp around in a field? No, I'd really rather take a nice nap. Smell my own butt? Nighty night.

So, I guess in one sense, Rusty is living the American dream. In another sense, his life is a waking nightmare of conscious nightmares.

Godspeed Rusty the Narcoleptic Dog. You are an un-inspiration to us all.

What kind of blind idiot God would create a world with narcoleptic dogs and blogs-less spellcheckers? I don't know the answer to that question, little Billy. All I know for sure is, we're in this together, and if we're to be saved, we're going to have to save ourselves.
Except the Mexicans they just eat beans all day.

I kid. But seriously, narcolepsy is a serious medical condition. I think Harriet Tubman had it. Or was it Rosa Parks. Well they were pretty much the same person.

Some things you should be watching, and various other odds and ends

I don't normally make public service announcements on my blog, because I believe that blogs should be exclusively about painful truths, like Thuy Trang's death and the existence of Remus Lupin porn. You should come away from my works of terrible beauty weeping with joy. But that joy should be born of despair. Sweet black despair.

Nevertheless, sometimes, I feel that it's necessary to elevate my fellow men, to shine the light of wisdom and truth upon them, to lift them up, just as the British East India Company lifted up the little fuzzy wuzzies.

You should be watching these TV shows maggot.

1. Wonder Showzen
The first time I watched this show, I dismissed it as sensationalist clap trap. After all, anyone can take little kids, let them loose in New York City, and have them spout offensive zingers. But then I saw a cute as a button little girl tell a veterinary nurse that she had probably "seen more privates fall than Fallujah in spring." And then I was in love. With the show, not the little girl.

2. The Office
Contrary to popular belief, the American version of The Office is actually better than the British version, because Pam is much hotter than Dawn.

3. Battlestar Galactica
For a show about the remnants of mankind on the run from a seemingly omnipotent race of mechanical beings, there's a ridiculous amount of sex going on. I guess it makes sense that you'd want to have a lot of sex if your species were almost wiped out, but half the sex is human on robot! But they're pretty damn sexy robots. One of them is this blond with a killer rack and legs from here to yaamygod.
Anyway, the main plot of this show is that Edward James Olmos is the leader of a rag tag bunch of kids. They may not believe in themselves, but he believes in them. When he teaches them calculus and they pass the AP test, the AP Board is skeptical and forces the class to retake it. But, in the end, they stand and deliver, and Olmos's bunch of snot nosed Mexicans show the world that Latinos aren't inherently stupid, they're just inherently lazy.
Actually, I think that's the plot to "Stand and Deliver." But replace "Mexicans" with "the fine officers and enlisted men of the Battlestar Galactica" and "AP Board" with "Cylon killing machines" and it's pretty much the same thing. However, Olmos is definitely the Captain, and he's definitely Mexican. Well, I don't know for sure if they still have Mexicans in the future, but they still have lawns and Chevys, so I put two and two together.

Speaking of broad racial stereotypes, I think the other day was "Don't work if you're a dirty Mexican Immigrant" Day. Wait, isn't that everyday?

Ba-zing.

4. V for Vendetta
I know this isn't a TV Show, but where did I say this was a list of TV shows you should watch? Oh, in the introduction? Shut up. This movie kicks all kinds of ass, in large part because Hugo Weaving has a sexy voice and Natalie Portman has a sexy everything.