Archive for the 'WTF?' Category

President Pikachu Was Unavailable for Comment

Rebecca May 20th, 2008

Hello Kitty became Japan’s new tourism ambassador yesterday. There’s no word yet on what role the Little Twin Stars will play in the Administration.

The Birds & The Bees (and the snails…)

Matt May 8th, 2008

Isabella Rossellini + Insects + Sex = Green Porno

Behold!

Matt May 7th, 2008

A Florida teacher is accused of wizardry.

If you want to really see something disappear, put me in a sealed room alone with naught but a block of muenster and prepare to be dazzled.

Gunga, Gunga-Galunga

Matt April 24th, 2008

Seeing how a certain country has been doing a swell job of keeping Tibet in the news lately, I bring to you this work of “journalism” done by Columbia student Christina Liu. Please note, I am pasting the entirety of the story in this post as the story has been retracted, for obvious reasons.

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Crunch Crunch Crunch Crunch

Matt April 17th, 2008

Bryan suggested we crawl up in the attic to see if the ants were nesting up there or something. I nodded, considered that calmly, and then responded.

“Icannothandlethis! Icannotdealwithanymorefuckingbugsinmyhair,ormybed,orcrunchingundermyfeet! Iamcompletelylosingmyshit! I! Am! Losing! My! Shit!

…I will be out on the deck.”

Poor Maggie. The only thing I’ve got to add/confirm is that god, yes, the crunching! Flying ants are the crunchiest motherfuckers ever. I’ve accidentally flattened a dragonfly and a praying mantis (sorry buddy!) with a flip flop or two, but never have I heard a louder crunch than what a flying ant makes.

Bonus points: listening to your puppy crunch on a flying ant she found.

One Man’s Sklork is Another Man’s WTF

Matt April 15th, 2008

matt: here’s a gruesome headline from CNN: Man sklorks down 420 oysters in 10 mins.
matt: ew ew ew ew ew
rebecca: sklorks?
matt: don’t look at me, it’s not my headline
rebecca: well, we’ve seen me do 6 in 15 minutes
rebecca: i could probably do better given enough training
matt: so… yeah

And it seems that we were not the only two that took umbrage with the use of sklork - Andre Torrez, Kelly Chambers and a coworker of Rebecca’s noticed it as well.

As a parting, I leave you with the words of that coworker:

rebecca: there was a yell from another office: SKLORKS? WHAT THE HEY?

What the hey indeed.

TMI

Rebecca February 19th, 2008

Earlier I had a call from a telemarketer…oops, I mean a call from a charity requesting a donation. The woman on the other end of the line, from the “National Cancer Center”, mispronounced my last name. They all do. Butchering my name and asking for “Mrs. Schmitz”, the other common mistake, triggers an automatic response on my part: “I’m sorry, but she passed away.” Mrs. Schmitz was my grandmother. She died in 1976.

Anyway, tonight’s caller, Karen, recovered quickly. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t read it correctly.” She continued, “How are you this evening?” “I’m fine”, I replied. “How are you?” Karen paused. “I think I’m coming down with that nasty cold everyone has”, she said. “But it’s nothing for you to worry about. I’ll go home and doctor myself after I get off work.” Apparently Karen didn’t know the question “How are you?” is merely a polite prompt that moves a conversation along. It’s not something requiring a detailed answer usually given in a doctor’s exam room. “Well, you be sure to drink some hot lemonade with honey and a shot of brandy”, I said. “And I’m not interested. Thank you.”

I’m starting to think I should have charged her a consultation fee.

I’ll Suck Your Cock for A Thousand Dollars

Matt February 4th, 2008

Lord knows that this certainly wasn’t a surprise, but I get a kick out of this:

Police said the scheme was exposed when one of the girls’ mothers found a $20 bill and asked where she got the money.

Not $200, $2,000 or $2,000,000: $20. This would raise suspicions how? No excuse was ready other than ‘yeah, I’ve been blowing hypocrites for some extra cash’ ? I weep for our children.

Not-So-Smooth Criminal

Rebecca January 28th, 2008

slippers.jpg

Via Snarky, meet William Torres.

Police said Torres, whose last known address was 436 Turner St., Allentown, gunned down two men at Fourth and Allen streets last month. According to court documents, Torres admitted killing the men. Torres was driving on Turner Street Friday afternoon when he was pulled over by police and arrested. He was wearing a hooded sweartshirt with a skull-head pattern on it, pajama bottoms and fuzzy lion-faced slippers at the time.

Fuzzy lion-faced slippers–’cause that’s how he rolls.

Mr. Cephalopod Head

Rebecca January 11th, 2008

Via Boing Boing, meet Louis the giant Pacific octopus… and his new friend.

louis.jpg

And I died a little inside. Twice.

Rebecca December 14th, 2007

Last night, as I was driving home from dinner at my aunt and uncle’s house, I was listening to a local radio station. After a commercial break, the young female DJ announced that she was playing the “Cockatoo Twins” next. Or, as she put it, “The Cock…Cock…Cockatoo Twins? I can’t make heads or tails of that word.” This station likes to play obscure 80s stuff from time to time, so when I heard cock…cock…cockatoo my heart sunk. I knew the name she was massacring. The Cocteau Twins, the Scottish band famous for their ethereal and depressing sound. To my knowledge, they never released a happy-go-lucky single. They were part of the mopey teenager’s soundtrack for moping around. Back in the day, if you had Joy Division’s Love Will Tear Us Apart in your collection, Aikea-Guinea was right behind it. I still have my twenty-two year old copy of Tiny Dynamine.

Just as I was shaking my head in disbelief, thinking it couldn’t get any worse, the DJ put on the Cock…Cock…Cockatoo Twins’ song.

It was “Frosty the Snowman”.

General Mingy

Rebecca December 12th, 2007

According to industrial food giant General Mills’ website, the company is:

…guided by our values — they are the source of our strength, and the heart of who we are. Those values guide us to be involved in our communities and affect positive change.

Apparently those values include bullying community-minded citizens. Have you heard about this crap?

Residents of Potsdam, N.Y., have held a bake-off for the past 10 years to raise money for a local food pantry. This year, food manufacturing giant General Mills contacted organizers and told them it owns the word, and only the company can use it.

Look, lord knows we’ve had our problems with copyright infringement. I can understand protecting your creative property. However, there are some simple things–like a word that’s been used by every small town ladies’ church group and fourth grade school band since the Taft Administration–that seem well within “fair use” boundaries to me. Threatening the organizers of a small town bake-off for the local food bank? (Yeah, that’s right. I said “bake-off”, General Mills. Go stuff it.) I can’t imagine anything less likely to “affect positive change” than corporate assholery.

WTF, People?

Rebecca November 27th, 2007

As Matt wrote below, I’ve been plagiarized. Both of us have repeatedly notified the blog author of copyright infringement. He (or she) has traveled the spectrum of stupidity this morning: from representing my entire post as their own, through several edits that fell woefully short of removing the post to now, unbelieveably, insulting me. According to the plagiarist, I’m:

a desperate key-word internet professional looking for attraction.

Look, asshole. I’ve asked nicely. I’ve sent you links detailing what you must do to correct your post. Now I’m going to contact your host and put an end to this. I’m going to assume (perhaps wrongly) you went to college at some point. Do you remember the rules about plagiarism? Failure and expulsion. The Internet’s no different, buddy. Hope you enjoy getting a “F” at Blogger U.

10 Readers and We Already Get Plagiarized

Matt November 27th, 2007

I was in a pretty good mood until I was checking referrals this morning. Let it just be said that a post from this site was copied verbatim without approval, link-back or any sort of acknowledgment whatsoever. And when contacted? Still no link to this site or the original post, just a lazy mention of the author’s name (first only) and, I swear to god, a petition for more information from said author to add on to the post.

As you might have gathered, I am not said author and the post in question can be found here (I’m certainly not providing a link to the plagiarist). I’m sure Becky would have been more than glad to cross-post to that site if asked but the fact is they didn’t; she might post something later today or leave a comment below, but I’m really sorry that this had to happen today. I mean, is it so hard to ask for a link?

Now we both just have to sit back and wait, hoping that they’ll remove the content and we don’t have to go through the whole rigmarole (you’d think there’d be an easier way to go about asking a content provider to remove an offending page).

Imagine if we had twenty readers?

Rumble in the Jungle

Rebecca November 6th, 2007

So, here’s a funny (ha-ha or strange, I haven’t decided) story from my trip to Oregon:

I was at Breitenbush Hot Springs on Halloween. It’s a natural hot springs located in the Cascades just east of the state capital, Salem. It’s owned by an “intentional community”, or, as they used to be called back in my childhood, a hippie commune. The community takes care of everything: they maintain the hot pools, clean the lodge and cabins, take reservations, give massages, lead exercise and yoga classes, cook all the meals (They provide three squares a day to their guests, and they’re delicious, vegetarian and all organic. I even bought the official cookbook.), provide security and in general do everything that a resort open to the public requires. Naturally, they lend a New Agey-kind of feel to the place and attract a lot of like-minded individuals as guests.

Anyway, I was relaxing in one of the hot pools Halloween night, watching their annual bonfire in the distance, when a older heavyset woman wearing a turban walked up the path for a soak. She disrobed, got in the pool with me, and we struck up a conversation. She has a new boyfriend. She was trekking through the Peruvian Amazon earlier this year when she and her guide, a local Jivaro Indian named Lobo, fell in love. Lobo is apparently a shaman of his tribe. He guides outsiders down the Amazon in his spare time. She says he’s divorced now, and supporting his ex-wife and four children on his income as a guide. He’s also twenty years younger than his new American girlfriend. She’s already sent him hundreds of dollars through the mail (he needed a new boat, among other things), and is planning on selling nearly everything she has here in America so she can shack up with Lobo in the jungle. Lobo has told her he has no intention of giving up his first wife and their children, and in fact brought them along when he met her at a local Peruvian motel for their first intimate encounter. The wife and kids stayed in another room.

The new Mrs. Lobo, as I like to think of her, sees no potential problems with this romance. She’s fine with sharing Lobo and wants to provide the extra income for the whole family. Frankly, she’s surprised a younger man would be in love with her like this and was pleased to note that, according to Lobo, he “fantasizes” about her all the time. Most importantly, she isn’t troubled by his refusal to travel to the U.S. to meet her adult daughter and other family and friends.

Now, far be it from me to criticize anyone else’s misguided love affairs. Lord knows there’s probably a Lobo in my future, given my sketchy taste in men. But am I alone in thinking there’s something rotten in the jungle?

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