+ Yahoo is reporting that a sea turtle will be getting an all-new artificial flipper. He'll also be getting a GPS system, a voice-activated MP3 player, an all-new leather interior and a chance to serve as the pace car in a future NASCAR race.
+ This nifty time-waster allows you to set 10 musical notes (or use a pre-set scale) and then using those notes as integers from 1 to 10, generate a melody based on Pi -- out to 10,000 places. If I wrote a song based on Pi, you know what I would call it?
"Pie."
You know what it would be about?
Cake.
+ Everyone get ready and start practicing your sentence diagramming. National Grammar Day is coming up this Tuesday, March 4. So if anyone in the office gives you a hard time for correcting their grammar, just say, "Piss off, grammar illiterate. This is my day to shine." And then maybe shove them and dangle a participle as you walk by just to show 'em who's boss.
Thank you to Park Bench reader Scrap Irony for sending in that item.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
20 Questions For Women Who Aren't Us
Why do you wear flip flops in the winter and Ugg boots in the summer?
How does it not faze you to reveal so much cleavage you could be confused with two zeppelins racing for the ground? Don't the leers of the homeless make you the least bit uncomfortable?
Is it really that important to be the first one in line/on the bus/at the cash register?
Is that conversation you're having on your cell phone REALLY important enough to share with everyone?
Why does he stay with someone so mean? No really, I need tips.
What is it with you and Oprah?
How do you not choke on your gum when you pay $150 for a pair of jeans?
And why do you wear high heels with those jeans? It makes no kind of sense unless you're simultenously farming and clubbing. Are you farming and clubbing?
How do you manage to look friendly and judgmental all at the same time?
Have you been able to sleep on your stomach since the implants?
Why do you drive a 12-passenger Yukon when the only people in the car are you, your kid and your lap dog? I try to flip you off but you’re too high up to see me. This is what it’s like when little people get mad at Shaq.
How come when you put blush on it looks good but when I do it, I look like the 87-year-old cross-dressing prostitute that all the other 87-year-old cross-dressing prostitutes make fun of?
Has "Cosmopolitan" Magazine really ever really “helped you hold on to your man?” I think fake pregnancies are more effective but whatever...
Do I have to scrap book?
What’s up with lying to fellow women and making childbirth sound so great? Childbirth means the following items will rocket out of your body: a placenta, blood, a human being, more blood and something called a mucus plug. If gold bullion shot out of my body, I could see being excited.
This is a two-part question: has a stiff wind ever blown you over? If given a sandwich, would you eat it?
Why do you wave your hands in front of your face when you cry? Are you trying to keep the mascara dry or are you doing LOLCat jazz hands? I hope it’s the latter because everyone loves LOLCats.
Do cheerleaders ever turn on each other? You know, like prison snitches?
Why do you let Bret Michaels touch you?
You seriously don't like "Star Wars?" Seriously?
-- Liz and Ms. C. Our claws are now comfortably retracted.
How does it not faze you to reveal so much cleavage you could be confused with two zeppelins racing for the ground? Don't the leers of the homeless make you the least bit uncomfortable?
Is it really that important to be the first one in line/on the bus/at the cash register?
Is that conversation you're having on your cell phone REALLY important enough to share with everyone?
Why does he stay with someone so mean? No really, I need tips.
What is it with you and Oprah?
How do you not choke on your gum when you pay $150 for a pair of jeans?
And why do you wear high heels with those jeans? It makes no kind of sense unless you're simultenously farming and clubbing. Are you farming and clubbing?
How do you manage to look friendly and judgmental all at the same time?
Have you been able to sleep on your stomach since the implants?
Why do you drive a 12-passenger Yukon when the only people in the car are you, your kid and your lap dog? I try to flip you off but you’re too high up to see me. This is what it’s like when little people get mad at Shaq.
How come when you put blush on it looks good but when I do it, I look like the 87-year-old cross-dressing prostitute that all the other 87-year-old cross-dressing prostitutes make fun of?
Has "Cosmopolitan" Magazine really ever really “helped you hold on to your man?” I think fake pregnancies are more effective but whatever...
Do I have to scrap book?
What’s up with lying to fellow women and making childbirth sound so great? Childbirth means the following items will rocket out of your body: a placenta, blood, a human being, more blood and something called a mucus plug. If gold bullion shot out of my body, I could see being excited.
This is a two-part question: has a stiff wind ever blown you over? If given a sandwich, would you eat it?
Why do you wave your hands in front of your face when you cry? Are you trying to keep the mascara dry or are you doing LOLCat jazz hands? I hope it’s the latter because everyone loves LOLCats.
Do cheerleaders ever turn on each other? You know, like prison snitches?
Why do you let Bret Michaels touch you?
You seriously don't like "Star Wars?" Seriously?
-- Liz and Ms. C. Our claws are now comfortably retracted.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
News of the Day -- Late Edition Because Blogger Ate the Early Edition
+ Trekkies rejoice! There's a very cool new Star Trek exhibition getting ready to tour the country in 2008. Visitors will see props, costumes, experience simulations and get a chance to sit in the captain's chair on not one, but TWO bridges. Sadly, no word on whether we'll get to sit on the laps of any captains, although I'm calling dibs on Picard right here and now. The exhibition is currently in Long Beach, CA, so if you're out there, check it out and let us know what you think.
+ Although Miss Piggy was noticeably absent from the red carpet, the annual Jim Henson Awards were recently awarded to four companies and individuals who are carrying on the Muppet master's spirit of creativity. Honorees included My Billionaire Boyfriend (TM) Richard Branson, writer Neil Gaiman and the website etsy.com. The best part of the award? The trophy:
Way cooler than an Oscar!
+ This item's kind of a good news/bad news thing. The bad news? There's a fairly good chance humanity's going to fuck up the planet pretty bad -- yup, even worse than we already have. The good news? Whoever -- or whatever -- is left behind is going to have a fabulous seed collection. Yes, the doors opened recently on the cheerfully named Doomsday Seed Vault, which will serve as a repository to preserve and protect millions of seeds and crops in the event they get destroyed by climate change, war or natural disaster. I've been thinking of cataloging my Hostess Fruit Pie collection too but that one'll pretty much just benefit me. Sorry, humanity!
+ And finally, NASA is planning to crash two rockets into the Moon's surface to see if they can find hidden water ice. Ten bucks says they've got Gary Busey signed on to drive those bad boys. I'm guessing Busey will be unsuccessful in recruiting Jennifer Garner or Ryan Seacrest as co-pilot.
Special thanks to Trey for submitting the Henson award and Doomsday seed vault items.
+ Although Miss Piggy was noticeably absent from the red carpet, the annual Jim Henson Awards were recently awarded to four companies and individuals who are carrying on the Muppet master's spirit of creativity. Honorees included My Billionaire Boyfriend (TM) Richard Branson, writer Neil Gaiman and the website etsy.com. The best part of the award? The trophy:
Way cooler than an Oscar!
+ This item's kind of a good news/bad news thing. The bad news? There's a fairly good chance humanity's going to fuck up the planet pretty bad -- yup, even worse than we already have. The good news? Whoever -- or whatever -- is left behind is going to have a fabulous seed collection. Yes, the doors opened recently on the cheerfully named Doomsday Seed Vault, which will serve as a repository to preserve and protect millions of seeds and crops in the event they get destroyed by climate change, war or natural disaster. I've been thinking of cataloging my Hostess Fruit Pie collection too but that one'll pretty much just benefit me. Sorry, humanity!
+ And finally, NASA is planning to crash two rockets into the Moon's surface to see if they can find hidden water ice. Ten bucks says they've got Gary Busey signed on to drive those bad boys. I'm guessing Busey will be unsuccessful in recruiting Jennifer Garner or Ryan Seacrest as co-pilot.
Special thanks to Trey for submitting the Henson award and Doomsday seed vault items.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
An Open Letter to Stephen King
Dear Stephen:
Being an intellectual snob means I’ve missed out on a lot of good stuff in life. Tailgate parties, for example. Keg parties. Mary Kay parties. Lots of parties. I also missed out on “Melrose Place,” “Beverly Hills 90210,” “Dawson’s Creek,” “Felicity,” the first four seasons of “Friends” and, well, every single thing you've ever written. I thought I was too smart to go to those parties, watch those shows or read your books. For that last thing, I am truly sorry.
(I’m not at all sorry for missing those parties or “Dawson’s Creek,” though. The size of James Vanderbeek’s jaw makes me uncomfortable, like I’m watching chin porn. Also, you meet weird people at parties. I know because I’ve seen those “Real World” documentaries and episodes of “Quarterlife.”)
Until recently, I didn’t realize what I was missing by foregoing your work. I thought, “What does it matter? I’ve seen ‘Carrie.’ I’ve seen ‘The Shining’ and ‘Cujo’ and ‘The Stand.’” I figured I was well-versed in the King, uh, 'verse...or at least well-versed enough to fake it. I’m lazy that way.
But then you started writing for “Entertainment Weekly,” a magazine for which I have an indecent amount of love. Each Monday, the mailman finds me with my nose pressed to our glass door, a slight sheen of anticipation glistening on my lips – like if Cujo had been a supermodel. To complete the analogy, if I had a tail, I would wag it. That’s how much I love EW.
At first, I dismissed your column, thinking it’s probably just about zombies and axe-wielding hoteliers. And then I remembered I was a nerd and thought, “Hey! His column’s probably about zombies and axe-wielding hoteliers!” But it wasn’t. It was something even better. It was the work of a pop culture fan who loves music and movies and books just as much as I do and who writes about each of those subjects with a passion and gentle humor that is inspiring and, yes, addictive.
My husband, a King fan for years, saw his opening and recently handed me a copy of your novella, “The Long Walk.” It was riveting. I found myself in the kitchen washing the dishes with one hand, turning pages with the other and sometimes getting completely confused, requiring the judicious use of a hair dryer and Febreezing the not always pleasant odor of wet paper. While reading “The Long Walk,” the part of me that likes to feel smart and show off told my husband, “King must have been inspired by the Bataan death march.” He nodded, which I mentally translated as “yes, dear, I know you think you're smart, just be quiet.” And then I turned back to my reading because beyond historical allusions, "The Long Walk" is just a damn good story.
So now, I will no longer fight it. I will read your books. From this day forward, I’m giving up literary snobbery. Sure, I’ll still buy more trade paperbacks than mass markets. And may God strike me down if I ever willingly read a novelization of “Halo.” But I feel it’s time to open my literary horizons and embrace the idea that liking something a lot of other people like is not necessarily a bad thing, unless it’s NASCAR. Or “Deal or No Deal.” Or thongs on portly folk.
Witness me casting off the oppressive yoke of Harold Bloom and "The Times Literary Supplement" because, let’s face it, I don’t understand half the stuff I read in that publication anyway. It’s just a really good beard for the coffee shop literati. And Harold Bloom? Any man that inflicts a non-CGI “Beowulf” on me deserves not my admiration but my scorn. And maybe a pantsing.
Starting next week, I’m raiding my husband’s stash of King novels and diving in with gusto. I’ll likely be scared completely out of my mind and rendered sleepless and/or twitchy through July, but it’ll be worth it. Because I like you, Stephen. I like the way you think. I like the way you write a story, and I like the way you make the back page of EW, my pop culture crack addiction, shine.
I am, however, asking one small favor. Could you, for the love of all things holy, please stop writing for like ten minutes? I mean seriously, cut it out. Put the pen down. Play a few rounds of spider solitaire. Maybe take up knitting? Because, truly, some of us have some serious catching up to do and you’re not making it any easier.
Keep writing the columns though. I’ll be wanting your opinion on "Ironman."
XOXO,
Liz
Being an intellectual snob means I’ve missed out on a lot of good stuff in life. Tailgate parties, for example. Keg parties. Mary Kay parties. Lots of parties. I also missed out on “Melrose Place,” “Beverly Hills 90210,” “Dawson’s Creek,” “Felicity,” the first four seasons of “Friends” and, well, every single thing you've ever written. I thought I was too smart to go to those parties, watch those shows or read your books. For that last thing, I am truly sorry.
(I’m not at all sorry for missing those parties or “Dawson’s Creek,” though. The size of James Vanderbeek’s jaw makes me uncomfortable, like I’m watching chin porn. Also, you meet weird people at parties. I know because I’ve seen those “Real World” documentaries and episodes of “Quarterlife.”)
Until recently, I didn’t realize what I was missing by foregoing your work. I thought, “What does it matter? I’ve seen ‘Carrie.’ I’ve seen ‘The Shining’ and ‘Cujo’ and ‘The Stand.’” I figured I was well-versed in the King, uh, 'verse...or at least well-versed enough to fake it. I’m lazy that way.
But then you started writing for “Entertainment Weekly,” a magazine for which I have an indecent amount of love. Each Monday, the mailman finds me with my nose pressed to our glass door, a slight sheen of anticipation glistening on my lips – like if Cujo had been a supermodel. To complete the analogy, if I had a tail, I would wag it. That’s how much I love EW.
At first, I dismissed your column, thinking it’s probably just about zombies and axe-wielding hoteliers. And then I remembered I was a nerd and thought, “Hey! His column’s probably about zombies and axe-wielding hoteliers!” But it wasn’t. It was something even better. It was the work of a pop culture fan who loves music and movies and books just as much as I do and who writes about each of those subjects with a passion and gentle humor that is inspiring and, yes, addictive.
My husband, a King fan for years, saw his opening and recently handed me a copy of your novella, “The Long Walk.” It was riveting. I found myself in the kitchen washing the dishes with one hand, turning pages with the other and sometimes getting completely confused, requiring the judicious use of a hair dryer and Febreezing the not always pleasant odor of wet paper. While reading “The Long Walk,” the part of me that likes to feel smart and show off told my husband, “King must have been inspired by the Bataan death march.” He nodded, which I mentally translated as “yes, dear, I know you think you're smart, just be quiet.” And then I turned back to my reading because beyond historical allusions, "The Long Walk" is just a damn good story.
So now, I will no longer fight it. I will read your books. From this day forward, I’m giving up literary snobbery. Sure, I’ll still buy more trade paperbacks than mass markets. And may God strike me down if I ever willingly read a novelization of “Halo.” But I feel it’s time to open my literary horizons and embrace the idea that liking something a lot of other people like is not necessarily a bad thing, unless it’s NASCAR. Or “Deal or No Deal.” Or thongs on portly folk.
Witness me casting off the oppressive yoke of Harold Bloom and "The Times Literary Supplement" because, let’s face it, I don’t understand half the stuff I read in that publication anyway. It’s just a really good beard for the coffee shop literati. And Harold Bloom? Any man that inflicts a non-CGI “Beowulf” on me deserves not my admiration but my scorn. And maybe a pantsing.
Starting next week, I’m raiding my husband’s stash of King novels and diving in with gusto. I’ll likely be scared completely out of my mind and rendered sleepless and/or twitchy through July, but it’ll be worth it. Because I like you, Stephen. I like the way you think. I like the way you write a story, and I like the way you make the back page of EW, my pop culture crack addiction, shine.
I am, however, asking one small favor. Could you, for the love of all things holy, please stop writing for like ten minutes? I mean seriously, cut it out. Put the pen down. Play a few rounds of spider solitaire. Maybe take up knitting? Because, truly, some of us have some serious catching up to do and you’re not making it any easier.
Keep writing the columns though. I’ll be wanting your opinion on "Ironman."
XOXO,
Liz
News of the Day
+ Ever wanted to have an electronic gadget inserted under your skin so it can do slightly magical things? Who hasn't? Well, now if you want a subdermal gadget that shows videos, makes phone calls and, oh okay, actually does important things like monitor pacemakers and check blood sugar for diabetics, science has just the thing for you. It looks like this and it's powered by blood flow, which is one-part icky and one-part really, really cool.
Thank you to Trey for sending that one in.
+ Another one of those "shocking" studies came out suggesting that high school students may not be as smart as all those cute fifth graders who hang out with Jeff Foxworthy. Only forty-three percent of them knew that the Civil War took place between 1850 and 1900. (Wait, there was a civil war???) The article includes a link to sample questions so you can check out your own historical and literary knowledge.
+ Researchers in Italy have proven that fish can count up to four. Um, yay? Sure, they're feeling cool about it now, but let's see how they do on that high school literary test.*
* They'd probably do quite well. Which means they're smart which means I'm going to feel bad about eating them now. Damn it!
Thank you to Trey for sending that one in.
+ Another one of those "shocking" studies came out suggesting that high school students may not be as smart as all those cute fifth graders who hang out with Jeff Foxworthy. Only forty-three percent of them knew that the Civil War took place between 1850 and 1900. (Wait, there was a civil war???) The article includes a link to sample questions so you can check out your own historical and literary knowledge.
+ Researchers in Italy have proven that fish can count up to four. Um, yay? Sure, they're feeling cool about it now, but let's see how they do on that high school literary test.*
* They'd probably do quite well. Which means they're smart which means I'm going to feel bad about eating them now. Damn it!
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