Enjoy an assortment of funny things found on the internets:
I never thought I’d say such a blasphemous thing, but this is better than Cry Face. Be sure to check out the “How To.”
Ha, I like this guy: “Not to be a dick or anything, Iguana, but you’re not a fucking dinosaur. I know you roam around showing off your scaly skin, beady little eyes, and your nose holes. And yes, I’ve seen your tongue. But let me ask you a few questions. Can I ride you? Do you have answering machine messages from Steven Spielberg? WERE YOU ON MY SHOES WHEN I WAS EIGHT???”
I’m embarrassed by how many people sent me a link to this. I’m also embarrassed that my boss told me today that if she ever needed to coax me out of a burning building (long story), she’d just get a breakfast sandwich and say “Maaaaallory…look what I haaave…”
If you hate the Snuggie commercials on teevee as much as I do, you will find this to be humorous. Honestly, I think they make people look like Jedi knights. Which, to some, might be cool. McStarWars, yours is in the mail.
And just for funsies, here is the actual Snuggie commercial. VOM.
HEBRON, Ind. — Police say a northern Indiana woman who wasn’t invited to her sister’s wedding reception showed up anyway and attacked the bride, pulling out clumps of her hair.
Twenty-three-year-old Annmarie Bricker of Valparaiso faces a misdemeanor battery charge for last Friday’s attack outside a Porter County home.
The Porter County Sheriff’s Department says a friend was hosting a reception for Nicholas Landry and Lori Kappes — Bricker’s sister — when Bricker attacked Kappes on the front porch.
Police say that after the attack, Kappes had smeared makeup and clumps of hair missing from her head but sought no medical treatment.
Bricker told police she arrived at the home to confront her sister and parents and “just wanted to talk” about family problems. She says she never touched her sister.
She “just wanted to talk”? HA! Liar, liar, pants on fire!
I sense a Lifetime movie script in the works. Toss in a stripper, a pregnancy, and we’ve got ourselves a nice little Sunday afternoon. Maybe Kate Hudson is available?
Remember that Iraqi reporter who threw his fancy footwear at the (former!) leader of the free world’s head? Ahh yes, Muntazer al-Zaidi! That silly prankster!
Now, as you could have gathered from my liberal bleeding heart wimpy sappy Obama obsessed blog, I wasn’t W’s biggest fan. But, to quote Austin Powers (and I will NEVER EVER quote it again, by the way. I promise.), “Who throws a shoe? Honestly?!”
To commemorate the Muntazernator’s horrible aim (or W.’s cat-like reflexes, which no doubt are a result of his frequent cat naps), the Iraqis in Sadaam Hussein’s hometown, Tikrit, have unveiled a six-foot statue of a shoe. Cool?
Now that is CLASSY. One and a half tons of pure class with a tree sticking out of it. Just in case you are dumb like me and can’t read Arabic, the inscription says “Muntazer: fasting until the sword breaks its fast with blood; silent until our mouths speak the truth.”
Ah, now that is poetry.
Muntazer, by the way, is in jail. He is facing charges of assaulting a visiting head of state.
And please note about the title of this post, I KNOW that you can’t hear a shoe around the world. I’m only making a nerdy historical reference to “the shot heard round the world”. It’s a line from a poem written by Emerson about the start of the Revolutionary War. WOOO LIBERAL ARTS!
I randomly bought the City and Colour song “Sleeping Sickness” on iTunes because when all of my college friends and I slept for days on end in the weeks after we graduated, we called it the sleeping sickness. Which is to say, we were all probably mildly depressed because life REALLY sucks for a while right after you graduate from college.
So I bought this song and kind of forgot about it, but it came on my shuffle the other day and I was all, “Hey! I like this! Where did this come from?!” Now I’ve been listening to it on repeat, as I’m apt to do. I really like the second verse, when the other singer (Gord Downie, thankyouverymuch YouTube) comes in. It’s a nice surprise, and there’s something very raw and appealing about his voice:
I debated for a while about whether to post the official music video or a live video, and for purposes of quality, the official video won. I rarely like a music video better than an actual live performance, and frankly who really watches music videos anymore? I’m starting to think they’re a lost art. But hey, as long as someone keeps putting that stuff on YouTube, I’ll keep posting it here.
Having been accused of only seeing things as a Democrat, I’d just like to announce that I transcended party lines today (take THAT, Mike.) and voted for a Republican. This was a very serious and thoughtful vote that I took, and I stand by my decision. I voted for Republican Congressman Aaron Schock as the hottest Congressional Freshman.
The choices?
Glenn Nye of Virginia, Aaron Schock of Illinois, Jim Himes of Connecticut, Tom Perriello of Virginia, and Jared Polis of Colorado. Nye has solid good looks, and Himes is pretty foxy. But Aaron Schock? RAWR. Very, very…pretty.
See?
And he’s only 27. True story, he’s the first member of Congress to be born in the 80s. Thanks, Huffpo, for the factoid.
This video is taking over the world wide webs! No but seriously, people are loving this. It is slightly hilaaaaaaarious. When the girl whips out the balloon? HA! But it’s weird too. Perfect for SWTCTW, no? Now all I can think about is Cadbury chocolate. YUM.
I’m back. I’ve come back from an unsuccessful foray into the real world (read: no place to live or a job…but I might have found a place to live. But still no job. That should be interesting. That’s another post.) and I’m back to the la la land of blogging where I can do what I love and pretend I’m getting paid! (Barack, could we speed up that fixing the economy business? I know it’s not going to happen overnight…but I need it to get better so people want to hire me.)
So. Much. To. Talk. About. So we have a new president. AWESOME. (If you don’t want to read one more freaking word about inauguration then just skip to the next paragraph.) Yours truly was there in the throws of things. I got to spend some quality time with Jessica Alba and her husband, Cash Warren. Cash, by the way, was much nicer than she was and not nearly as much of a jerk as Perez Hilton makes him out to be. If I had taken a picture with Jessica, I would have posted it, but I was trying to keep my cool and pretend like I didn’t care that she was a celebrity. Maybe it worked but it was a HUGE mistake on my part, because now I have no actual evidence. Whatev. Barack’s speech was perfect. It was HOPEy, CHANGEy, alluded to our new style of diplomacy, and presented a strong national image and showed he was not going to mess around. RAWR. I made it to a couple balls, but never got to see B and Meesh dance. Wahhh. We arrived just as Biden did, so they wouldn’t let us in. They were going to let us in between Joe and Barack, but guess what. They didn’t. I stood in the cold for forty minutes waiting. You know what made it better though? Walking in and James Taylor was playing. Niiiiiiiiiice. Okay, that’s all I’m going to say about the great inaug. Nope it’s not. I would wear everything Michelle Obama wears. Foxy. Hell, I’d wear Sasha and Malia’s clothes too. Too cute. ENOUGH! ENOUGH.
Barack is going to sign the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act today. It will now be law that women deserve the same pay as men. I cannot believe it took this long. If you want to read the stories that prove we need this legislation, read this NYT op-ed. Hooray!
In other great news, PETA is still batty. I meant to blog about them wanting to change the word “fish” to “sea kittens” but I didn’t. So get over it. Hopefully, you know about that anyway. If you don’t, here’s the deal. Fish have feelings, etc. So when you eat fish, they want you to feel bad about it. Like REALLY REALLY bad. They think the best way to do this is to change the name of fish to sea kittens. I am not making that up. But that’s not even what I am talking about. PETA has a vegetable sex ad that got denied for a Superbowl slot. Vegetable sex. Yeah, I said it and yeah, I know you pervs want to watch it:
Wowie. Thank you, PETA, for grossing me out AND making me feel bad about myself at the same time. And I’d like to see their sources for their information. How do they KNOW that vegetarians have better sex?
Okay, I’m off to stalk le internets and find more goodness for you to enjoy while you work. And I do not work. Really, this is community service. Right, Mom and Dad?
This weekend, I was up in NYC visiting friends, and on Friday night I saw Joshua Radin (!!!) in concert. I was crazy excited about seeing him. He put on a good live show, brought Ingrid Michaelson out with him to duet on “Sky,” and we hooked up after the show. Most of that is true. Speaking of Ingrid Michaelson, she wasn’t wearing pants on stage. She had a longish sweater on (just BARELY covered her ass-thigh junction) with tights. Ribbed, partially see-through tights.
Ladies, do I need to say it again? Leggings are not pants. They should not be worn as though they are pants. And if LEGGINGS are not pants, it logically follows that PARTIALLY SHEER TIGHTS are ALSO not pants. Ingrid, I think you are wonderful and witty and very talented, but that does not exempt you from these rules. I hate pants as much as the next person (and probably more) but unfortunately, they’re a necessity. And Girl I Saw in Penn Station? It should go without saying that these rules apply to leather leggings as well.
But I digress. Back to the concert. My friends and I were there to see Joshua Radin, but I ended up really enjoying the other two acts as well. Jesse Harris opened, and he was great — a little dude in a flannel shirt playing a banjo. Here’s a sample of his stuff:
My friend Madeline and I stalked him a little the next day, and discovered that though Mr. Harris may have just been a rando dude in a flannel shirt to us, he’s pretty legit in the music business. In fact, he’s a Grammy-winner, and wrote Norah Jones’ “Don’t Know Why.” Pretty cool, eh?
The show was a double-headliner kind of thing, with Joshua and Dar Williams. I previously felt sort of “meh” about Dar Williams, but I like her a lot more after seeing her live. She closed with this song:
It’s probably the most adorable song I’ve ever heard, and it (clearly) made me cry. I had a lot of babysitters that I was close to, and I’ve been close to a lot of the kids I’ve watched, so this song really gets to me. It’s strange how for a few years, kids can have an incredibly significant relationship with their sitters, only to have both parties grow up and never see each other again.
Okay enough nostalgia for tonight. I have books about child abuse to read, hooray!
As you may have noticed, neither Kathleen nor I have blogged in a while. We go through a dry spell every so often, and I always feel incredibly guilty about it the whole time. On that topic, my roommate and I just had the following conversation:
Sarah: Um, Six Words and Drunkinarowboat are totally failing me.
Me: I know…I’m like, really conflicted. Do I even keep blogging? Is it worth it to blog if I’m not being consistent or doing a good job?
Sarah: [incredulous stare]
What she means is, she needs the distraction. She also means that blogging sometimes is better than never blogging again, if I really like doing this. And I do. Minus the fact that our blog is looking totally janky right now and I don’t know what to do about it because technology hurts my brain.
So I’m gonna keep on keepin’ on, and keep doing the best I can to blog regularly. (Kathleen will too; I’m making her promise that without her consent.)
To get the ball rolling on about a million things I want to post about right now, let’s go with a link to a series of photos that made me cry. They’re all related to Obama, obviously. Go look at them and you may never be sad again. (Ignoring the pictures of Bush, which ALMOST made me pity the sucker.)
Here’s another wonderful photo, courtesy of the HuffPost:
six words to change the world. 
