Utter Sarcasm

Things that will change sooner than later, I swear to God:

This site will be rebuilt from the ground up.
It will probably not include the “cool” duelling columns thing anymore.
It will still include Tony and I.
I’ll be writing a LOT more.
I’ll be integrating content/mashing up stuff with my various content-everywhere sites. And then building something amazing off of the concept.
I will learn how to leverage and develop brand equity.
I will sadly not exceed 100 viewers a day, and I will take it personally.
Et cetera.

Starting up:
OMGFood.com
Because I like to talk about food a lot.

[03:29 PM] Evan: there was a godly fish and chips place
[03:29 PM] Chris: sweeeeet
[03:29 PM] Chris: much closer to the source, i spose
[03:29 PM] Evan: im not usually one for cooked fish, but i about busted a nut over these
[03:29 PM] Chris: haha
[03:29 PM] Chris: that probably would’ve made them taste funny

Girl On Cell Phone: And so I made a promise, never to have premarital sex again.

Click to enlarge
I’ve noticed this bug ever since upgrading to Office 2007 Tech Preview 2 Build 12.0.3820.1002.

ClearType, which I understand is locked as a feature in 2007, is appearing to be completely deactivated, or otherwise rendering incorrectly when using Remote Desktop Connection at the “Full” experience.

The problem is most prevalent on unread, and thus bolded messages, and is just a bit of a quirk that should probably be dealt with. In my humble opinion.

Edit: Other Microsoft dev whose name eludes me pointed out that ClearType doesn’t render on Windows at all through RemDesk, or that it wasn’t supposed to, or *some*thing like that. While I admit that it’s somewhat obvious, I think it might have to do with Office using Calibri or the other ClearType fonts, and said fonts not scaling down properly, which makes it look so much worse than the standard XP interface downscale.

Further update: Robert Scoble was kind enough to point me to the ClearType group leader, who pointed me to the Terminal Services guy who mentioned that he’s actually working on it AT THIS VERY INSTANT. Nice to see the system works.

[03:23 PM] Chris: apparently it’s closer to 41 million records
[03:23 PM] Chris: vs. the 16 we have
[03:23 PM] Edgar: I don’t know why, but that makes me thing of that song, “It’s raining men”
[03:23 PM] Chris: hallelujah

Pretty damn creative…

He must not have grabbed the flag with a 1, 3 or 6 second digit in his time left…

Did no one at Nabisco or the ad agency who handles Oreo’s promotions consider twice their new tagline for the favorite sandwich cookie, “Ready, Set, Lick”?

I can see a vivid adult-entertainment tie-in, if they were perhaps so bold. Or maybe my mind is just permanently parked in the gutter. Whichever the case, it certainly sounds better than “Ready, Set, Cram-your-face-until-you-choke,-you-fat-bitch.” And that’s saying something.

Seriously, the mind boggles:

As he stood beside the President on the south lawn of the White House, Mr. McClellan choked up a little. “I have given it my all, sir, and I have given you my all,” he said, adding he was headed home to Texas. A folksy Mr. Bush wished him well. “One of these days, he and I are going to be rocking in chairs in Texas,” he said, “talking about the good old days of his time as the press secretary.”

It’s as if the President has taken to completely shuttering his worldview’s field of vision to exactly 1 degree: that which he and he alone chooses to believe.

Characterizing McClellan’s time as White House Press Secretary as “good old days” is tantamount to insisting to a rape victim that “it wasn’t so bad” the very next morning. As the rapist. Who spent the night and forced cuddling.

From Edgar, our resident code-monkey:

Sup dawg!
That shizzle has been flipped! Any shorty’s try to submit their promo code, it’s all silently hittin’ switches and making it all offer code like. Lucky 13 minutes even!
Respect,
-Edgar

Ah, the best money can buy.

[5:48 PM] Chris: bum bum ba dummmmmmmmm
[5:48 PM] Zach: yes?
[5:48 PM] Chris: buh ba baaaaaaaaa
[5:48 PM] Chris: ba ba ba baaaaaa
[5:48 PM] Chris: ba baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
[5:48 PM] Chris: name that tune
[5:48 PM] Zach: I got ds9 season 7 and now I’m happy
[5:48 PM] Chris: (then, real fast, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba)
[5:48 PM] Zach: I dunno
[5:48 PM] Zach: inform me
[5:49 PM] Zach: cause you know I’m dying to know
[5:49 PM] Chris: then, bah da, da da da da bah da, da da da da, bah da, ba da da da, bah da ba bah da bah
[5:49 PM] Chris: BAH BAH bummmmmm
[5:49 PM] Chris: BAH BAH bmmmmmmmmm
Zach: bond?
[5:49 PM] Chris: BAH BAH BAH BAH BAH
Zach: what
[5:49 PM] Chris: YES!

There are so many things right about this clip, and so very, very little wrong.

This is the funniest thing I’ve seen in awhile.

An interesting thing…if you remove Garfield’s thought balloons, it goes from an unfunny comic to a rather sad, poignant story about a lonely man who has wasted his life talking to his cat.

Jon seems crazy to be talking to his cat like that.

Seriously, thank you Canada.

“Stealth” cop car on the prowl
Montreal police have a new tool for their crackdown on traffic offenders. They call it the stealth car. The name “police” is not marked on the hood or trunk - and there are no lights on top. The stealth car has been patrolling Montreal streets for a couple of months on a trial basis. For now, it’s the only stealth car on Montreal island. But police officers who use the prototype say there should be one in every neighbourhood.

In EVERY neighborhood! Think of the possibilities! This really represents a paradigm shift in the way Canadian police will operate.

“Stealth” cop car on the prowl [CTV]

I’ve launched Loves Threadless.com. It’s a nice little fan-blog for all things Threadless related.
For the uninitiated, Threadless is a really fun shirt company that sells most the shirts I wear.
Take a look, subscribe, and drool over how much hotter the design is over there than here. And then bug Tony to make U\S pretty for everyone.

[01:53 AM] Chris: man
[01:53 AM] Chris: first class is fucking expensive
[01:53 AM] Chris: $5,000 to barcelona from new york, round trip American Airlines
[01:53 AM] Chris: “iberia lineas” is $3,420
[01:54 AM] Chris: which scares me a bit
[01:54 AM] Chris: i think that’s spanish for “bomb on board”

Dear Tony,

You can’t put pillow cases on the wrong pillows. A pillow case has to match it’s pillow, otherwise it’s like it’s an entirely different pillow.

Love,
The part of you trying to get a good night’s sleep.

Overheard at ASU outside Cereality.

Guy with longboard: Dude your bag is open. Holy shit what’s in here?

Guy with backpack: Oh I didn’t want to leave it in my car.

Longboard: Dude it’s a big bag of weed!

Backpack: Yeah, I didn’t want to leave it in my car.

Longboard: Oh-ho, what if you did, and when you went back out it was like, all clam-baked and shit?

Backpack: … Fuck dude, that is so awesome.

Overheard at Chicago O’Hare, Gate B21.

Woman: *to other woman* It’s only 99 cents, get me one.

Man: It’s a dollar.

Woman: No, it’s 99 cents.

Man: A dollar. They’re the same thing.

Woman: Why do you always have to pull this shit out of my ass? One of these days I’m going to explode and then what? You’re going to have my shit all over your face and who’s going to like you then, huh?

Man: *to woman* I want one too.

Overheard at ASU outisde of the Matthews Center.

Guy 1: …I wake up the next morning after getting trashed and I feel like shit. But if I actually spend my time being productive, I get up and I feel like I’ve accomplished stuff.

Guy 2: So why don’t you just accomplish things instead of getting drunk?

Guy 1: Because girls don’t like that shit. They want a party guy.

Guy 2: Your love life is a sign of national failure.

If you haven’t noticed, some people are making a big deal out of the three year anniversary of the war in Iraq. I find it only appropriate to post a link to this and this, two articles/forums of discussion about the 9/11 incident which, you have to agree to some extent, played a part in this whole mess.

While I neither claim faith to nor deny the likeliness of conspiracy theories, education, constuctive thinking, and awareness are three of my favorite friends, and I’d like to pass them on.

If nothing else, they’re a good read.

Let me start off by saying that I’m the kind of guy who feels he needs to give a shoutout every now and then: when the system works.

Last Sunday’s Academy Awards ceremony marked the first time in eight years that I paid any attention to the Oscars. After all, we think the whole thing is a political sham, someone nudging our societal values in their direction. If so, the best way for some hypothetically-manipulative power to reach people like me is with a gimmick!

Enter: The Host of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, Jon Stewart.

Now I’ll admit the only reason I watched this year’s glamour parade was because I knew Jon would take the opportunity to let his audience, Hollywood, know how he was feeling. And I wasn’t disappointed. At the same time, I actually sat through some of the non-Jon garbage. The first hour I watched everything except the montages (there. were. montages…), but around the beginning of the second hour I had to skip through the dull awards and the presenters I didn’t like, and the victory speeches by people I didn’t care about and my, my how the president of the Academy didn’t stand a chance. By the third hour I was just watching the whole thing on fast-forward. (Oh, did I mention I didn’t watch it on television? I downloaded it so ABC wouldn’t get the rating points.)

What was my point?

Oh, right. Some of the winners actually weren’t bad: March of the Penguins, Wallace and Gromit, Brokeback Mountain, Capote, Good Night, and Good Luck, etc. And because I haven’t seen all of the nominees, I’ve started finding them out; some of them are actually good. At least someone in the business is dedicated to creating meaningful work. If a means of guiding society’s values is embedded in such an art form, I’m going to make my peace with it. (Drink Coke™)

 
Didn’t catch it? Here’s a cynically honest review.

Overheard at ASU outisde of COOR 170.

College Student: Just stop it.

Presumably the Father: *fixing son’s collar*

Me: *laugh*

Student: Dude, that guy is totally laughing at me.

Father: He’s laughing with you.

Student: I’m not laughing!

Father: That’s because you have no fucking sense of humor. *pause* Jackass.

I’ve seen and heard of people doing a lot of weird things in their cars during the morning commute, so I thought I’d take a moment to let you in on a revelation I had today:

Pouring cereal into a bowl is really hard when you’re trying to make a left turn.

Especially if the cereal is oddly shaped and easily wedgeable into promiscuous areas of your sitting anatomy. Damn my hot bulging thighs, breakfast food magnets. Curses.

Oh man, please tell me I’m the first person to use “American Idle”, that’s golden.

I really don’t have anything to say past that. The guys are on tomorrow, and maybe they’ll do better than the girls, who were either great or crap. I get it, you’re live on television in front of millions of people who are judging everything you do, and you get the jitters and crack your notes and sing everything twenty cents off pitch. Good. Now stop. Obviously this is a talent contest, so figure it out. There’s also something to be said about singing in your range, you know, those notes you actually can hit.

But hey, I’m just the guy who calls in and decides your fate, don’t mind my opinion at all.

At least it’s an easy choice this week. After Heather Cox and *shudder* that ghastly performance by Stevie Scott, America doesn’t have much thinking to do. However, they did pick Bush, and a war, and a constitutional amendment against interior designers, and wiretapping, and lousy hurricane relief, and all those corrupt senators and representatives. Hmm. Thank god no one of age to vote on the political realm watches this show…

Site will be down for maintenance from 2:00AM PST to around 4:00AM PST. February 12, 2006.

Dear MySpace:

It’s currently 6:50pm on February 12. What part of 6:50pm falls between 2:00am and 4:00am? No. No really, which fucking part? Also, “AM” is the morning time (latin: “before the sun crossed the line”), so this only applies to 16 hours ago.

I’m at a loss for words. Is MySpace really this incompetent? Honestly, I can almost understand why people put up with their RIDICULOUS LACK OF SERVERS (yeah, you know, Google just got lucky or something), but this shit is tired. TIRED. You have 55 million users, grow up a little.

You’re ON NOTICE*, MySpace. You’ve been warned.

Sorry, let me put that in terms you’ll understand:

OmG ur soo gay111.

*Shhh, Steven Colbert isn’t looking.

Once again I find proof that regular people (um, me) are smarter than professionals.

Wait wait wait. Not “smart enough” like “hey, I’m gonna go ahead and do all this work that you can’t seem to finish” but more like “hey, you’re an idiot sometimes, and now everyone knows”.

So here’s my beef:

Wired reported that “cyberspace” just isn’t cool enough to describe our “new new reality”. Okay. Who better to think up a better descriptor than the aptly named Institute for the Future. Obviously they’re on fire when it comes to thinking up sweet-ass names for stuff. (“Institute of the Future”, seriously?)

Don’t bother reading the half page of dribble, the best, best suggestions of a “roundtable of virtual leaders” (holy god…) to give the internet a more tangible name read like this:

• Augmented Reality
• Ubiquitous Computing
• Infosphere
• The World

Thanks guys, you really left the surreal effervescence of ambiguity behind and latched on to something cogent and comprehensible (because that’s why “cyberspace” is outdated, right? because we “get it”?). Never mind, just go tinker with your Interblogs and leave the nameology to us.

Did you guys see the “President” last night? I didn’t. If I wanted to be condescended by someone less intelligent than me I’d go to the indie record store.

I haven’t plugged this nearly enough: visit Jeffrey Rowland in all his glory at OverCompensating, a somewhat daily comic blog about real things that happen in the life of a man who’s likely more schizophrenic than guilty of online atrocities. He is a lot of both those things.

Tell him I sent you and maybe, just maybe, he’ll pretend to know who I am.

I took some time to think about Roman Showers this weekend and I think I’ve figured out what they’re all about: when paying homage to the Good Porcilaine Doctor, it’s possible to pass out from oxygen deprivation and most people fall victim to the gasp for breath between office visits. Then I thought about the “sensual heightening” that auto-erotic asphixiotics describe during sex. So, if it’s not bad enough that your partner is throwing up on you, he’s getting pleasure from throwing up on you while suffacating at the moment of climax.

Since I’ve already established that this is an unusual post, let me ask this:

What’s more fun than having 96 Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in your freezer? Of course it’s opening the door, having them all fall out, and then using them as artillery in a kitchen battle to the death. But not just any death: a chocolate, peanut butter filled one.

What’s more fun than drinking a bottle of white wine with your roommates? Later drawing a picture of an old naked man shitting on the porch of a house for disabled children. You can’t tell, but Homestar is in the lower corner, quite upset at the sight of things.

This is my life, enjoy it.

I played Musical Classes today and switched two religion and psychology classes for different religion and psychology classes that just happen to be offered on the same days at the same times. Jesus must love me.

Speaking of the Only Begotten Boy, and I often do, I got great pleasure in repeatedly walking past a pile of rubble that was, oh, about the size of what a Mormon church would look like if you ran construction equipment through it over and over… and then made it into a nice, neat pile. The icing on the cake: Trevor throwing his hands in the air yelling “BURN THAT BITCH, DON’T REBUILD!” What can you say.

More to the point, the guy in front of me in line for the registrar was named Lucas Skyler Walker. Let me spell it out for you: Luke Sky Walker. Need a picture? He swears his parents didn’t name him after a character in Star Wars (maybe you’ve heard of it). As a rebuttal, I swore that my parents had planned on me being an abomination to organized faith. Somehow no one believed either of us.

The airport in Las Vegas is awesome because there’s free WI-FI and plenty of places to plug in and Lap it up.

I’m on my way home from Concord, California, where I had my Blue Devils camp. I made it, no surprise, and I’m sitting in the Marimba 2 spot. Wootish. It should be a good season, one of the highlights being my first and last Home Show (a show at home). Colts never came to the west side *flashes a gang sign* and BD was in Europe last year so no luck, but finally I’ll be able to perform in front of a home crowd.

So, if you’re going to be in the Phoenix metropolitan on June 21 check out the Southwest Corps Connection in Mesa. Or, for my “fans” not lucky enough to live in Arizona (lucky….yeah…) follow the schedge and come find me at a show.

/shameless self promotion

Overheard outside the ASU Memorial Union.

Dude 1: It all depends on your scale. What are you comparing it to? I mean who’s a 10? Is 10 like Jessica Simpson, or is a 10 the girl in your dreams that’s so perfect she could never be real?

Dude 2: Whoa.

Dude 3: Like totally huge tits!

Dude 2: We are so fucking smart.