Today's journey into human stupidity: Fun with Furries

Sometimes these things just write themselves.  Another week, another human stupidity-induced animal attack.  Let's head across the Pacific, where...

A panda at a zoo in southern China attacked a student who snuck into its pen hoping for a cuddle with the endangered bear, state media said Saturday.

Head explosion lives here:

Now that we've got that out of the way, wh-wha-wha-whaaaaat??  How in the hell could this have happened?

"Yangyang was so cute and I just wanted to cuddle him," Liu was quoted as saying from his hospital bed. "I didn't expect he would attack."

Safe to say our buddy Liu doesn't exactly fit the "smart Asian" stereotype.  I have a feeling I know what that panda was thinking though the minute Liu came looking for a hug...

Cha-Ching!!!

And yeah...I'm fully aware that using the term "furries" in the title of a post will inevitably lead to my blog coming up on google searches for "furries."  Does this concern me?  Oh yeah.  Do I desperately need the hits?  Yup.

A few "sports guys"...Part One

So this is my chance to talk about a couple different "sports guys" that exist in my world, and more than likely in your world too.  It is not an attempt to be an all-inclusive, comprehensive list, as there are simply way too many of these species to even count.  It's like the insect kingdom; scientists are uncovering new breeds of sports guys nearly every week.  I'm pretty fortunate to live in DC, which is one of the largest collecting ponds for these guys in the world.  I realize that there are numerous other blogs out there that have attempted to compile lists on this exact same subject, but I didn't read any of them, because they all suck.  Anway, these are a few of my favorites...*

 - The "nonchalant guy who is friends with a bunch of guys who are way too passionate."

This is the guy who will spend 3 hours of a heated game texting and talking to girls with Iowa t-shirts or something, while his friends endure 3 hours of their own personal hell.  Immediately upon conclusion of the game, as his friends are trying to collect what's left of their sports dignity, and contemplating if they're going to leave the house at all in the next week, he'll usually say something like "you guys want to get some Chipotle?"

 - "Bad-humor rival" guy.  

"Green Bay??  More like Green BAD!!"

This guy is a fan of the team that you would consider to be one of your prime rivals.  There's nothing wrong with that in and of itself.  The problem is he tries to express his hatred for your team through really awful, uncreative humor.  His wheel-house jokes usually consist of some of these classics:  

"Charlie Weis is fat!"

"Peyton Manning is white trash!"

"At least we're not in Aunt Arbor!"   

And my personal favorite, "[insert any name here] is gay!"

Look, we get it.  You're a fan of the other team.  But do you really think anyone is in any way insulted or affected by your terrible jokes?  Newsflash dude:  that's not trash talk.  It's just stupid.  There is nothing more exhausting than bad comedy.  You're a retard, we know.  That's why you're a fan of the OTHER team.

 - "Red-Sox Hat" guy.

"Growing up in Omaha, I was the biggest Sox fan!  When they won the world series in '88, I was only 4 years old, but it was the greatest moment of my life!"

 This guy ran out to buy his Red Sox hat the minute they beat the Yankees in the playoffs several years ago.  He proudly wears his Red Sox hat nearly everywhere he goes, and proclaims he's a part of the "Red Sox nation."  You even catch him every now and then talking with a bit of a Boston accent when trying to pick up a girl - as if the Sox make the ladies swoooon.

But, dude, he grew up in a suburb outside of Chicago.  He went to school at Midwestern state school.  He lives in Orlando.  He's never even been to Boston.  He only knows two people who are from New England.  Take off the hat, douchebag.  There's enough Massholes in this world already; we don't need another one.

 - "Grown man wearing a hockey jersey" guy.

"Hi, I'm Chet!" 

Let me be clear about this:  There are only two situations on this earth where it is appropriate for a grown man to be wearing a ridiculous, oversized, brightly-colored garment with numbers and letters on it.  One, if you're playing the sport of hockey.  Two, if you're attending a hockey game - and even then, it's iffy.  You don't wear your hockey jersey around the house.  You don't wear it out at the bar.  You don't wear it to your friend's engagement party.  Dude, we know:  You're a hockey fan.  Sticks, pucks, Alex Ovechkin, and Canada make your world go fround.  But that's no excuse to purposefully look like a complete idiot.  Just because Cameron wore the shit out of that Red Wings jersey in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, it does not mean that this practice is socially acceptable.

 - "Soccer" guy.

You just know the Mac guy's a pretentious soccer snob.

This guy's actually closely related to "hockey jersey" guy.  Everybody knows this guy.  While he may or may not be a fan of other sports as well, he's quick to point out that soccer is sweetest of all science, and that the purity of the game of "real football" is unmatched in all the world of sport.  If soccer got in a fight with Ray Lewis, soccer would win handily.  Soccer vs. a hurricane?  Get that weak-ass hurriance shit out of here.  

Soccer guy's favorite activity consists of going to seedy soccer bars (or "pubs," as they call them - I guess they didn't notice that they're in Newark, not Newcastle) at 4 am in the morning to watch some idiotic match-up between two obscure German-league teams that's going to end up in a tie.  All the while, he'll be heavily consuming pints of some fake-import beer like "Harp" or "Wasteiner," because that's how they do it in Europe, man!  UEFA, FIFA, AC "insert town name here", Vodaphone, riots - fine, whatever.  Just move to Europe already and get it over with.  Spare us your "passion" for this inane sport.

Part II to follow...

*Some of these guys are indeed personally connected to me.  I'm not going to say who they are, but if you're that guy, you knew it the minute you read it.  And you should be ashamed.  Will you still be my friend though?

If I had to describe ketchup in one word...

If you find yourself in a situation where someone actually uses "ketchup industry" and "ubiquitous" in the same sentence, you've entered the business school zone...

"So I see you have 'ketchup industry transformation project'

 listed under 'relevant experience'..."

Get out while you still have the chance.

Shit yeah brah!

+

=

"Resale Value?  What the fuck is that, brah?  Check out my spoila!!!"

As a society, at some point we have to just all agree that this isn't going to happen anymore.

Today's Journey Into Human Stupidity: Hot, Sexy Cougar Attacks

Today's journey into the infinite realm of human stupidity takes us to the state where approximately 84% of it flows from:  Florida.  A 16 year old girl has been hospitalized after being attacked by a cougar.  "But I thought cougars only went after guys in their 20s" you say?  Ummm, not that kind of cougar.

This kind of cougar:

So what exactly happened?  Did the cougar escape his cage at the zoo?  After all, the chances of coming across an actual cougar in the general outdoors in the state of Florida have got to be somewhere between slim and none, right?  Well, apparently not:

"The young woman was attacked at the house at 17910 NW 84th Avenue in Palm Springs North."

Ok, so we've got a cougar, in a house...what's the explanation?

"Morales says the young man was trying to impress his girlfriend and her mother."  

Ahhh, that makes sense.  Before I got engaged, I too had to first prove my worth to my wife's family by showing off my collection of exotic animals.  It's a pretty common American tradition, so I can see where the guy's coming from.  But why would this cute little animal that's totally fit for domestication attack this innocent victim?

"It is unclear why the 150 pound cougar attacked the teen,..."

Hmmm, maybe because it's a wild fucking animal that should never under any circumstances be kept as a pet.  Yeah, I'm going to go with that one.  Is this still a new concept to some people?  In any case, at least now they've got this weirdo locked up, and they can get this wild animal to a zoo, or a refuge, or somewhere way more appropriate for it, right?

"...but the owner of the home apparently has the proper permits to have the large cat at his home."

They're giving out permits for these things??  I'm just going to issue a blanket statement to all Floridians here; get out of the gene pool.  

The Wiley Man

A friend of mine recently sent this to me, and I thought it was just a sketch that was filmed a couple of years ago for some comedy pilot.  But...it's not.  There was actually a time in the not-too-distant future where Seth Green was loved in the city of New Orleans for playing a fast-food cashier in a commerical with a "Cha-Ching!" punch-line.

See if you can count the # of times he says "Cha-Ching" in this news spot.  Just when you think he couldn't possibly say it anymore, he not only says it again, but with more enthusiasm, and with an even more exaggerated fist-pump.  By the way, could he have looked any ghastlier?  Were they paying him in Vitamin D deficiency?

It's a far cry from what is by far his best role in anything, ever:  as the Wiley Man in the classic film "AirBorne."

What the fuck is he saying?

As I was enjoying some chinese food earlier this evening, my mind turned to what I usually think about when I'm eating cinese food:  Biz Markie's classic tune, "Chinese Food."*  I've thought about this song - more specifically, the lyrics in the song - for hours on end, and for the life of me I can't figure out how in the hell, or why in the hell, he connects anything he talks about in this song to chinese food.  Here's a quick look at the first verse and chorus:

[Verse One] 
I'ma bring it to you like this 
Drop a three pointer from the corner like swish 
Walk around with a name belt and a funky new rap 
Shell tops new and Space Invaders cap 
Old school like, bread and gravy 
Me and Monty roll together like Fred and Grady 
Ain't, nothin you can say to stop this mad man 
Play Defender, Centipede and Ms. Pac-Man 
Just like Martin Luther I had a dream 
In a house with no heat, just kerosene 
Call Biz Mark, so you get the better connection 
The type to wear Timbs to a weddin reception 
I'm so smart, I even got a GED 
Plus a vide-oh-oh, BET, and MTV 
I'm the best thing out now go ask your moms 
Spendin money on cars just to pass the time 

[Chorus] 
Four chicken wings with shrimp fried rice, that's good 
[scratch: "Egg foo yung"] 
Beef and broccoli with a little white rice, that's good 
[scratch: "Fried one time"] 
Chicken chow mein with a little white rice, that's good 
[sample: "Mix it mix it up nice"] 
I need a couple of egg rolls in my neighborhood, that's good

Ummmm, what?  The verse itself is completely nonsensical, which makes it even more astonishing that he was able to come up with a chorus that makes even less sense.  It saddens me to say it, but I think I might just be too white to ever understand what he's going for here.  When Wu-Tang came out with the epic "Ice Cream" many years ago, I was at least with it enough to know that the Clan had simply come up with a hilariously clever and sexist way of referring to different types of women - who, by the way, come in only four varieties, each of which is primarly characterized by their skin color.  But this one by Biz Markie completely baffles me.

"Someone actually paid me to write this song."

In fact, the only place in the entire song other than the chorus where anything Chinese is mentioned is in this incredibly eloquent and touching introduction:

Yo, you know this is.. FON-KAY 

I'd like to say rest in peace, to Aaliyah (sweet thing) 
And 'Left Eye' Lopez 
But, you know, shout out to my man Bruce Lee 
Jackie Chan, check it out, Jet Li 

So, there you have it.  Two long-dead former female rap stars, a long-dead martial arts film star, a washed-up martial arts film star, and a martial arts film star that most people know simply as "that guy who did the movie with DMX, I think."  Add that up and what do you get?  Chinese food??

Is this a shot from the movie, or an actual shot of DMX running from the police?  You tell me.

Way to thrown it down, Biz.  You've proven once again that nobody beats you.

*That's "chinese food" three times in one sentence.  Also, chinese food!

Is that really necessary?

A little note to all the people who need to eat in the middle of class:  Fucking don't.  Seriously, you can't wait 10 minutes until the break to meal on your shitty granola bar?  Has your mid-20s body not been able to adapt to the customary 3 meals a day routine?  It's not necessarily you feeding your face that annoys me; it's the slow and painful unwrapping of whatever it is you MUST immediately gorge upon in order to stay alive.  Do you need a can opener for that thing?  Let me give you a valuable life lesson:  There's no quiet way to open a bag of potato chips.  Enough with the never-ending eating train.  Wait until either the break or lunch like the rest of us considerate people.

Save it for the break, hippie.

Homo Shorticus

I thought for sure I had seen the last of the Shorts Guys in undergrad.  They were a rare breed even then, and you always had the feeling that as soon as they were no longer in an environment where everyone noticed them, they’d quietly slip back into a pair of jeans and a sweater, much like the rest of us normal people.  We had a couple classic Shorts Guys in undergrad; one in particular embodied every badass stereotype there is about these guys.  He was some white trash buddy of a friend of ours who would park at our place and get tanked before hockey games (we lived across from the ice rink).  Throughout the winter in Michigan, you can probably expect that there’s a snow cover of at least a few inches.  And the temperature in the evening rarely gets above freezing.  It’s fucking miserable. 

So anyway, prior to hockey games we’d generally sit outside on our porch, chugging beers and puffing cigs to stay warm and get ready for the game.  You wore a thick coat, and usually gloves.  But not shorts guy.  Shorts guy stood outside for hours at a time in nothing but of course, shorts and a t-shirt.  It didn’t matter how cold it got, how windy it was, or how hard it was snowing – wearing adequate clothing was for pussies.  I’m pretty sure the whole point of his existence was waiting for that inevitable moment when someone would ask “aren’t you cold?” just so he could stare them dead in the face and say “shit no.  It feels great out here.” 

“You think it’s cold out here?  Fag.”

There was another shorts guy who was kind of a mini-celeb on campus.  He was an extremely fat guy who seemed to only come out when the temperature dropped below 20.  Maybe that’s why he only wore shorts; he didn’t get outside enough in his life to realize temperature and weather differences?  If you only come outside on 20 degree days, do you have any relative idea as to what cold actually is?  Maybe that just seemed normal to him?  Anyhow, one particularly shitty winter day I was walking through the Diag when I came across this fine specimen, walking to class in nothing but, what else,  shorts and a t-shirt.  He even took it to the next level by sporting flip-flops.  His skin was covered in red splotches from the cold, and his faced looked half-albino, half third-degree burn.  He looked like a fat AIDS patient.  But he didn’t give a shit; he just wanted you to know that he was totally fucking comfortable in this kind of weather (he was also the type of guy who would probably tell you some bullshit like “I’m from Manitoba – this feels like summer!”)

Like I mentioned earlier, I thought for sure though that this species pretty much withered away after undergrad, when people stopped looking at Shorts Guy and asking “what the fuck is wrong with that guy?” and started saying “alright, clearly this guy isn’t fit to be a productive member of society.”  But lo and behold, when I got to class today, there he was in all his glory; Shorts Guy!  It was probably about 30 degrees here in DC this morning; not exceedingly cold by any means, but cold enough for most people (those with a pulse) to wear pants and a jacket of some sort.  Maybe he didn’t check the weather this morning, or just hasn’t seen a calendar in a few months, or maybe he’s just too fucking badass to have his wardrobe constricted by weather conditions?  After seeing that shorts guy can indeed survive far beyond undergrad, I’m convinced that next to the cockroach, the shorts guy species is probably the second most likely to survive either a nuclear holocaust or an ice age.  I have a feeling they’re going to get the last laugh – or at least that’s what they keep telling themselves as they catch hypothermia every winter in the name of stupidity.  For right now anyway I’m just glad to have spotted this rare specimen; global warming’s got nothing on these guys. 

Rush It

There's a story behind this video, which doesn't need to be told at this point.  All you need to know is that fraternity rushing is getting way, way out of hand.  I do wonder though if this guy got a bid?  Rush Beta.

By the way, that guy's tackling technique is solid.  Does he have eligibility?  Can he play safety?

I was going to go to school today, but Obama visited me late last night, snatched all my family's money, and gave it to poor people.  He also took my Metro card and "re-distributed" it; no doubt there is some homeless guy riding a bus around Arlington today on my dime.  Socialism is a drag.

Fuck you, I voted.

Ahhhh yes.  Election Day.  Comes only every four years.  My favorite part of election day isn't hanging out on the couch watching the results come in, or listening to the concession speech, or any of that crap; it's watching the smug-meters shoot through the roof when people put on those stupid little "I voted" stickers.  Is there anything in this country that gives people a more undeserving sense of extreme self-satisfaction like letting the rest of the population know that they voted?  

Sure, you beat your wife, are behind on child support payments for at least 2 of your children, have recently spent time in the clink for that DUI ("the cop was a dick, dude!"), and seek every possible way to reduce your taxable income to a level where you can actually claim you nothing to the US government.  But hey, today, you're a fucking true American Hero, because you voted! You got that sticker, and more importantly, you've got the inalienable right to be that guy who has to ask everyone he comes into contact with, "hey, did you vote?"

Go fuck yourself.

In the beginning...

Well, it's finally here.  The vehicle to further increase my already over-inflated sense of self-worth.  The blog.  Nothing says "I think everyone needs to hear the fucking totally amazing shit that comes out of my mouth" quite like a blog does.  Everything I say is true, correct, and golden, which is why I've set up this forum for me to spit it to you.  My word's are as eloquent as Too Short's poetry on "CockTails."  

 

So what will this blog contain exactly?  Pretty much things I see and hear that annoy or amuse me; which is just about everything.  I envision one of the most frequent sources of posting being some of the many unbelievably stupid and rediculous things I hear people say in my business school classes.  I'll also post links to articles, videos, whatever's pissing me off at the moment.   Maybe I'll post a picture of one of my friends (most likely Nick Noppinger) and write a few paragraphs about why I hate him so much.  Maybe I'll talk about what I did that weekend and why it was so stupid.  I'll also probably devote a monthly column to discussing David Wax, and why he is the source of all my problems and is sucking my soul slowly from my body.

My main purpose for doing this blog is a way to keep in touch with all the people that I don't get to see very often anymore.  It's a way for them to get their weekly requisite dose of my charm and positivity.  Or it's a good way to remind them of why they never talk to me anymore.  Either way, I expect my "followers" to be really just the people I know, sprinkling in a few random Euro-tards named Sven and Kirstl that like to follow my blog from their loft in Copenhagen.

 

A big thanks goes to the inspiration for me to start this stupid thing, Dave Lang's excellent "End The Cola Wars" blog (endthecolawars.blogspot.com), which, ironically, he doesn't update anymore.