Dear Money,
Hey man! It's been awhile, and we haven't been hanging out recently. I understand that you're a busy type of fellow, and we've spent time apart before, but what's up? Are you mad at me? Are you sad at me?
I remember a time, I guess it was a couple months ago that you and me were TIGHT, bro. In fact, we went and bought my new computer together and that was a big deal for me! Seriously! I'd meet you at the ATM and we'd go hang out at the gas station, get some groceries, maybe stop by Tower Records to get a CD or DVD. I also remember all those times you helped me get stuff from all over the country by using your internet skillz.
But now, I don't know, brah, you haven't been around lately and I'm starting to wonder if you're just hatin'. What's up with all the absenteeism? I'm all about communication and if there is something that I've done wrong, by all means, please tell me so that I can change my ways and we can be friends again.
Is it something I've done? Because to be honest with you, I noticed that when I STOPPED doing things is when you took off. I can understand if you like your friends to be industrious and busy and not some bump on a log; I agree with you!
The only problem is that when I work so much, I don't have time to hang with my friends, so I'd rather have more time for my friends than do stupid things like "be employed." So now here I am, ready to hang and you're no where to be seen! What's up with THAT?! For real.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'd like to make amends and get back together with. Maybe meet up for a cup of coffee? I'm pretty hungry these days, so maybe a sandwich? Do you want to meet me at the laundromat? I have a lot of laundry so I would be there for awhile and I could really use your help. If there's something that we can work out, I'm all ears. When we were rolling, no one could stop us; we were a great team and I would hate to put that all in jeopardy, for something petty like a difference of opinion.
Hit me back. Drop me a line. Maybe I'll see you on the street, but I definitely think we should reconnect and get back together because we could do some damage to that fish and chips place on 2nd St.
See you soon!
I hope.
Most Sincerely,
Jeff Crocker
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Thursday, May 25, 2006
[no subject]
What is it that the subject line has done for our society, besides create undue stress and furstration in trying to perfectly sum up your ruminations on "dropping a line." For every personal e-mail that you entitle "Hey" and every business e-mail that comes through "RE: the kitchen," we all get those items with the dreaded [no subject].
What piques my curiosity is who dreads that title (or lack of) more? The sender, for not having come up with an adequate phrase to prompt their reader of the coming salutations? Or is the reader worried that [no subject] means what follows is serious and the sender was so intent on sending the e-mail they couldn't be bothered with coming up with two words to prepare the reader for what was contained inside.
I recall a time a few weeks ago when I was talking on the phone with a friend I was helping out. I asked if he had seen a video on the internet, probably of a car crash or fart joke or something, and I asked him to send me the link. Later that night when the link came through as [no subject], I didn't immediately think, "Oh! Here is that link I requested." My mind jumped all over the place wondering what on earth he could possibly be writing to me about since we had just spoken on the phone earlier that day.
But my friend had no reason to post a subject line for an item that I requested, right? Why are we so compelled to fill in that field when very often there is nothing to put?
One of the things that the internet has become an indespensible tool for is reconnecting with people that you haven't seen in awhile. Ex-girlfriends, ex-best-friends, high school guidance counselors you had crushes on, etc.
When you track down that old girlfriend or boyfriend's e-mail address, get the nerve up to write a short letter saying hello and how are you doing, the letter isn't difficult but I have spent hours trying to figure out a couple words to, essentially, prepare this person for having to deal with me again.
Regardless of the contents of the letter, here is a list of subject headings I would use to get in touch with my ex-girlfriend from my junior year of high school:
Hey you!
Hello!
Hi there!
Good Morrow!
Aloha!
Shalom from Long Beach!
Where you at, homes?!
What's up?! It's Jeff!
Why did you change your number?
You're a hard gal to find!
When did you change your name?
[no subject]
As you can see, the subject heading is the caller ID of e-mail. You know who is coming at you and what they are coming at you for. If the number is restricted or blocked [no subject] do you pick it up, just to find out? Or do you delete it immediately no matter whose e-mail address it is from?
I sympathize with the relentless stress that this simple, understated concept has brought to hundreds of people. I too suffer from the anxiety of [no subject], and one of these days, when I come up with the perfect all-purpose subject heading, I'll tell everyone and rule the world as king!
Huzzah!
What piques my curiosity is who dreads that title (or lack of) more? The sender, for not having come up with an adequate phrase to prompt their reader of the coming salutations? Or is the reader worried that [no subject] means what follows is serious and the sender was so intent on sending the e-mail they couldn't be bothered with coming up with two words to prepare the reader for what was contained inside.
I recall a time a few weeks ago when I was talking on the phone with a friend I was helping out. I asked if he had seen a video on the internet, probably of a car crash or fart joke or something, and I asked him to send me the link. Later that night when the link came through as [no subject], I didn't immediately think, "Oh! Here is that link I requested." My mind jumped all over the place wondering what on earth he could possibly be writing to me about since we had just spoken on the phone earlier that day.
But my friend had no reason to post a subject line for an item that I requested, right? Why are we so compelled to fill in that field when very often there is nothing to put?
One of the things that the internet has become an indespensible tool for is reconnecting with people that you haven't seen in awhile. Ex-girlfriends, ex-best-friends, high school guidance counselors you had crushes on, etc.
When you track down that old girlfriend or boyfriend's e-mail address, get the nerve up to write a short letter saying hello and how are you doing, the letter isn't difficult but I have spent hours trying to figure out a couple words to, essentially, prepare this person for having to deal with me again.
Regardless of the contents of the letter, here is a list of subject headings I would use to get in touch with my ex-girlfriend from my junior year of high school:
Hey you!
Hello!
Hi there!
Good Morrow!
Aloha!
Shalom from Long Beach!
Where you at, homes?!
What's up?! It's Jeff!
Why did you change your number?
You're a hard gal to find!
When did you change your name?
[no subject]
As you can see, the subject heading is the caller ID of e-mail. You know who is coming at you and what they are coming at you for. If the number is restricted or blocked [no subject] do you pick it up, just to find out? Or do you delete it immediately no matter whose e-mail address it is from?
I sympathize with the relentless stress that this simple, understated concept has brought to hundreds of people. I too suffer from the anxiety of [no subject], and one of these days, when I come up with the perfect all-purpose subject heading, I'll tell everyone and rule the world as king!
Huzzah!
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
A Hipster or a Headbanger?
Today is my day-off and I have been in my apartment trying organizing all my books and magazines that are strewn about my (dirty) carpet. I had my laptop plugged into my stereo and was listening to Jetliner, quite possibly the greatest band since ACDC. I was rocking out and air-guitaring and lip-synching and ignoring the ridiculous amount of work beneath my feet.
But as I was cleaning up books by Dave Eggers, George Saunders, and short stories about pirates, I reached a crossroads of identity. Who am i? I act like a headbanger, but I don't have long hair. I'm cultured and snobby like a hipster, but I don't play guitar and start t-shirt companies.
Even though I don't look like a head banger, the last concerts I went to were Jetliner and AC/DShe. And as I don't necessarily look like a hipster, I am arrogant about books, appreciate retro-irony (like Gumby, Old school nintendo, and Magnum PI as well as Tom Selleck's moustache), and am pursuing a career in the entertainment industry.
My headbangerness put me in a band as a drummer, except my hipsterness put me in a folk-rock band.
My headbangerness wears torn jeans, while my hipsterness puts on a sweater from Target and a shoulder bag with my laptop in it to walk to a coffee shop.
My inner headbanger wants to go get PBRs down at the Pike, yet my inner hipster urges me to drink bottom-shelf, blue-ruin, rot gut whiskey at The Prospector to prove I'm not a wimp.
Meanwhile, my computer's playlist is jumping around from AC/DC's "Back in Black" and Black Sabbath's "The Mob Rules," to The Ditty Bops, Wilco, and Bright Eyes.
I go buy Slayer and Megadeth, but I leave the record store with Rilo Kiley and Death Cab for Cutie under my arm. For every bit of me that appreciates all those mopey-eyed, shaggy-haired, indie-rock bands, I get more excited when KLOS plays a rock block of Van Halen and Deep Purple.
Who am I? Who am I trying to be? What has become of this world where I feel so conflicted between two stereotypes that I can't choose either one of; and what could be the defining characteristic that tips the scales and let's me rest peacefully on one side. Is this my interntal struggle? My dramatic theme? Am I fighting a battle between singing Guns n' Roses at karaoke versus Tom Jones?
Whatever you do, don't remind me about how I used to eat pot brownies and go to Phish concerts- I don't think the triple bill of headbanger vs. hipster vs. hippie will have a very good outcome.
If we're looking for a war, then seriously, there's going to be blood on the streets tonight.
But as I was cleaning up books by Dave Eggers, George Saunders, and short stories about pirates, I reached a crossroads of identity. Who am i? I act like a headbanger, but I don't have long hair. I'm cultured and snobby like a hipster, but I don't play guitar and start t-shirt companies.
Even though I don't look like a head banger, the last concerts I went to were Jetliner and AC/DShe. And as I don't necessarily look like a hipster, I am arrogant about books, appreciate retro-irony (like Gumby, Old school nintendo, and Magnum PI as well as Tom Selleck's moustache), and am pursuing a career in the entertainment industry.
My headbangerness put me in a band as a drummer, except my hipsterness put me in a folk-rock band.
My headbangerness wears torn jeans, while my hipsterness puts on a sweater from Target and a shoulder bag with my laptop in it to walk to a coffee shop.
My inner headbanger wants to go get PBRs down at the Pike, yet my inner hipster urges me to drink bottom-shelf, blue-ruin, rot gut whiskey at The Prospector to prove I'm not a wimp.
Meanwhile, my computer's playlist is jumping around from AC/DC's "Back in Black" and Black Sabbath's "The Mob Rules," to The Ditty Bops, Wilco, and Bright Eyes.
I go buy Slayer and Megadeth, but I leave the record store with Rilo Kiley and Death Cab for Cutie under my arm. For every bit of me that appreciates all those mopey-eyed, shaggy-haired, indie-rock bands, I get more excited when KLOS plays a rock block of Van Halen and Deep Purple.
Who am I? Who am I trying to be? What has become of this world where I feel so conflicted between two stereotypes that I can't choose either one of; and what could be the defining characteristic that tips the scales and let's me rest peacefully on one side. Is this my interntal struggle? My dramatic theme? Am I fighting a battle between singing Guns n' Roses at karaoke versus Tom Jones?
Whatever you do, don't remind me about how I used to eat pot brownies and go to Phish concerts- I don't think the triple bill of headbanger vs. hipster vs. hippie will have a very good outcome.
If we're looking for a war, then seriously, there's going to be blood on the streets tonight.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Set the WayBack Machine!
The last two weeks I have been cleaning and re-organizing my apartment, buying new furniture that is long over due and just sort of eviscerating whatever unnecessary odds and ends I've been hoarding like a packrat. I'm not an obsessive saver, but I do store things just longer than I need to, but there will be a couple times a year I go through it all like this and just throw a ton of stuff out.
I've also been working non-stop, non-stop, and haven't had time to update with a serious entry, but I thought that to keep updating, I would post some juicy, gossipy tidbits from my high school journal, junior year (1999), that I found in the bottom of a large box in the back of my closet.
I want to make it VERY clear that I am ridiculously embarassed by practically all of this. In fact, some of you are going to know the people I am writing about, sooooo....there's that.
Here goes nothing:
January 10, 1999
"I went driving today in the Honda Civic, that I now have to drive because my parents traded in the Ford Taurus. The Honda is a stick-shift or manual transmission, if you will. I think that it is incredibly manly to drive a stick, but it's really hard! I have been having trouble with it for about 3 weeks. But today, I finally got the hang of it."
January 12, 1999
"I started writing my 10-minute play this evening and i think it's going to be really funny. I'm sure that most of the really good student writers out there are going to try writing drama. most likely the winning one will be about a teenager with AIDS, cancer, or is suicidal or something. Mine is about Matt Gourley's experience trying to buy an armoir at an antique store. It's a really funny story, I just hope I can make it into a good play and do his story justice.[Note from 2006: it came out REALLY racist] I found out today at lunch that the spring formal is going to be on Feb 20. Now the only thing left to do is find a date. I need a girl that is hop to groove and a site to see on the dance floor. A girl who is excited to go and wants to go with me!"
January 25, 1999
"I hate my parents sometimes. I can't stand it when they will not leave me alone, and are always nagging me about everything I do. They got really mad at me. Why? usually it's because they think i ask them for too much stuff. I don't. I do however bitch and moan about how our computer is completely messed up and we need new equipment. They don't seem to understand at all. I NEED to have video-editing equipment so that I can do it by myself and I won't have to go to chris's house or jesse's house. It would be such a relief if I could do it at my house. well, soon I should be getting equipment and anyway, I'm going to finish my music video at Jesse's house tomorrow. I did however get a lot of it done after school today."
February 20, 1999
"Well, tonight was formal night and, man alive, did I have a spectacular time! Arielle and i rocked the house all night long! I had finally badgered my parents into letting me drive the new Taurus. We took pictures at Ashley's and waitied for Cameron who was running late. Arielle was wearing a black and red, 50s style prom dress with a huge petticoat- it was awesome. I was wearing a sailor suit. [note from 2006: The theme was Rock the Boat!] Our group picture is going to be awesome! We had the photographer tilt the camera and then we all leaned the other way to make it look like we were sliding off a ship or something [note from 2006: i don't think this picture turned out the way we wanted it to in any way]. I had an incredible time and all the people that said stuff about my suit were really funny. [note from 2006: it should also be noted that this suit got Arielle and I a HUGE two page color spread in the yearbook. Goddamn right.]"
That's about where it all ends, or shortly afterward i don't start another journal for a year or two. There is a lot of stuff sprinkled in there, that I deliberately left out about my ex-girlfriend Barbara. Why leave it out? Because I'll edit the highlights from those entires together and it is quite possibly some of the most entertianing writing I've ever read in my life.
Does anyone else have a journal or diary from high school they would like to share with us? Does anyone have that little shame? Does anyone know what the origin of "The WayBack Machine" is?
For anyone who hasn't subscribed to this blog what are you waiting for?
I've also been working non-stop, non-stop, and haven't had time to update with a serious entry, but I thought that to keep updating, I would post some juicy, gossipy tidbits from my high school journal, junior year (1999), that I found in the bottom of a large box in the back of my closet.
I want to make it VERY clear that I am ridiculously embarassed by practically all of this. In fact, some of you are going to know the people I am writing about, sooooo....there's that.
Here goes nothing:
January 10, 1999
"I went driving today in the Honda Civic, that I now have to drive because my parents traded in the Ford Taurus. The Honda is a stick-shift or manual transmission, if you will. I think that it is incredibly manly to drive a stick, but it's really hard! I have been having trouble with it for about 3 weeks. But today, I finally got the hang of it."
January 12, 1999
"I started writing my 10-minute play this evening and i think it's going to be really funny. I'm sure that most of the really good student writers out there are going to try writing drama. most likely the winning one will be about a teenager with AIDS, cancer, or is suicidal or something. Mine is about Matt Gourley's experience trying to buy an armoir at an antique store. It's a really funny story, I just hope I can make it into a good play and do his story justice.[Note from 2006: it came out REALLY racist] I found out today at lunch that the spring formal is going to be on Feb 20. Now the only thing left to do is find a date. I need a girl that is hop to groove and a site to see on the dance floor. A girl who is excited to go and wants to go with me!"
January 25, 1999
"I hate my parents sometimes. I can't stand it when they will not leave me alone, and are always nagging me about everything I do. They got really mad at me. Why? usually it's because they think i ask them for too much stuff. I don't. I do however bitch and moan about how our computer is completely messed up and we need new equipment. They don't seem to understand at all. I NEED to have video-editing equipment so that I can do it by myself and I won't have to go to chris's house or jesse's house. It would be such a relief if I could do it at my house. well, soon I should be getting equipment and anyway, I'm going to finish my music video at Jesse's house tomorrow. I did however get a lot of it done after school today."
February 20, 1999
"Well, tonight was formal night and, man alive, did I have a spectacular time! Arielle and i rocked the house all night long! I had finally badgered my parents into letting me drive the new Taurus. We took pictures at Ashley's and waitied for Cameron who was running late. Arielle was wearing a black and red, 50s style prom dress with a huge petticoat- it was awesome. I was wearing a sailor suit. [note from 2006: The theme was Rock the Boat!] Our group picture is going to be awesome! We had the photographer tilt the camera and then we all leaned the other way to make it look like we were sliding off a ship or something [note from 2006: i don't think this picture turned out the way we wanted it to in any way]. I had an incredible time and all the people that said stuff about my suit were really funny. [note from 2006: it should also be noted that this suit got Arielle and I a HUGE two page color spread in the yearbook. Goddamn right.]"
That's about where it all ends, or shortly afterward i don't start another journal for a year or two. There is a lot of stuff sprinkled in there, that I deliberately left out about my ex-girlfriend Barbara. Why leave it out? Because I'll edit the highlights from those entires together and it is quite possibly some of the most entertianing writing I've ever read in my life.
Does anyone else have a journal or diary from high school they would like to share with us? Does anyone have that little shame? Does anyone know what the origin of "The WayBack Machine" is?
For anyone who hasn't subscribed to this blog what are you waiting for?
Thursday, May 18, 2006
The Fat Ghostbuster
So last night i wrote a blog(that I accidentally closed before posting) about this picture:
And I'm sure you can imagine that there isn't much to write about this picture that doesn't already explain itself. Thoroughly.
Here were a few highlights that as well as I can remember them-
- Only referring to this picture as "Fat Aykroyd"
- Explaing how Fat Aykord kills at least one person he's in a movie with (Belushi, Farley, John Candy, Rosie O Donnell, etc.)
- Speculating that Fat Aykroyd ate Rick Moranis, because seriously, has anyone seen Rick Moranis recently?
- Is he doing stand-up in this picture? Is he part of a telethon? Or is he singing "Reelin' in the Years" at karaoke?
Anyway, I'm said that I deleted the entry, but really, the writing was just an excuse to post the picture.
here it is again so you can keep laughing.
And I'm sure you can imagine that there isn't much to write about this picture that doesn't already explain itself. Thoroughly.
Here were a few highlights that as well as I can remember them-
- Only referring to this picture as "Fat Aykroyd"
- Explaing how Fat Aykord kills at least one person he's in a movie with (Belushi, Farley, John Candy, Rosie O Donnell, etc.)
- Speculating that Fat Aykroyd ate Rick Moranis, because seriously, has anyone seen Rick Moranis recently?
- Is he doing stand-up in this picture? Is he part of a telethon? Or is he singing "Reelin' in the Years" at karaoke?
Anyway, I'm said that I deleted the entry, but really, the writing was just an excuse to post the picture.
here it is again so you can keep laughing.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Faux Po-Mo Quasi Irony of Obvious Coincidence
(I hated that title right after I wrote it, but I'm not going to change it (if i did, i would never write this blog))
I guess this is really a sequel to my last entry about Triplets, because it's another "rule of threes" observation.
Not to mention the observation that I better right another one to finish the trilogy of triplets. Yes, sometimes(read: all times) i hate myself.
Here are three things that are related without being related:
Kelly Clarkson's song, SINCE YOU'VE BEEN GONE, is an amazing feat of addictive pop song coming from an addictive, hit TV show.
The Osbournes was also an addictive, hit TV show.
Ozzie Osbourne was the front man for Black Sabbath in the 70s.
Ronnie James Dio followed Osbourne as the front man for Black Sabbath.
Dio was previously in a band called Rainbow, who sings an amazing song called SINCE YOU'VE BEEN GONE.
The Rainbow is the symbol of gay pride.
Gay is derived from the word gai meaning happy, carefee, or bright and showy.
Rappers like to showy offy their bright jewelry and flashy cars.
The rapper Coolio was no exception.
Coolio's song, "Gangsta's Paradise" was lampooned by Weird Al Yankovic on his 1996 album, Bad Hair Day(a reference to Coolio's drug addled hair style).
Also on the album, Bad Hair Day is a song entitled SINCE YOU'VE BEEN GONE.
Did I miss anything? Leave me a comment with any addendums of corrections.
I update this pretty regularly so if you haven't subscribed to my blog, feel free to automatically recieve the latest updates. (this is of course assuming I have any regular readers at all, which may be a brash assumption.)
The End.
I guess this is really a sequel to my last entry about Triplets, because it's another "rule of threes" observation.
Not to mention the observation that I better right another one to finish the trilogy of triplets. Yes, sometimes(read: all times) i hate myself.
Here are three things that are related without being related:
Kelly Clarkson's song, SINCE YOU'VE BEEN GONE, is an amazing feat of addictive pop song coming from an addictive, hit TV show.
The Osbournes was also an addictive, hit TV show.
Ozzie Osbourne was the front man for Black Sabbath in the 70s.
Ronnie James Dio followed Osbourne as the front man for Black Sabbath.
Dio was previously in a band called Rainbow, who sings an amazing song called SINCE YOU'VE BEEN GONE.
The Rainbow is the symbol of gay pride.
Gay is derived from the word gai meaning happy, carefee, or bright and showy.
Rappers like to showy offy their bright jewelry and flashy cars.
The rapper Coolio was no exception.
Coolio's song, "Gangsta's Paradise" was lampooned by Weird Al Yankovic on his 1996 album, Bad Hair Day(a reference to Coolio's drug addled hair style).
Also on the album, Bad Hair Day is a song entitled SINCE YOU'VE BEEN GONE.
Did I miss anything? Leave me a comment with any addendums of corrections.
I update this pretty regularly so if you haven't subscribed to my blog, feel free to automatically recieve the latest updates. (this is of course assuming I have any regular readers at all, which may be a brash assumption.)
The End.
Tuesday, May 9, 2006
Triplets!
For those that have never compared Broadway musical composer Andrew Lloyd Weber and self-proclaimed Master of Horror Lit Stephen King, I've created this image:
WHOA. What the fuck? Were these two separated at birth? Long ago, in a faraway land, was Steve Lloyd split in two? Where one side, the Lloyd, became a master of dancing gay, musical delight while the other side, the Steve, was cast into shadows to dwell with clowns and tommy knockers? Did Weber spring from the forehead of King? Or some other obscure mythology reference?
I know, it's a lot of questions to throw at you and I apologize, but this is an issue that really needs to be addressed. Preferably before any more clones spring forth in different artistic, creative careers.
Perhaps this is a hidden symbol of intelligent design that we are supposed to figure out; that men without upper lips are more likely to succeed in the area of high school reading lists and musical stagings about Jesus.
OH SHIT. THERE IS ANOTHER ONE!
IT'S TOMMY HILFIGER!
So now the creatures with the big foreheads and massage moustache zoning occupy top tier positions of theater, horror lit, and fashion. Pretty soon, the whole world will look like these three men, like that Twilight Zone episode with the pig-faced people. We will turn into a society of fashionable, musical, writers, meaning all other things will cease to exist in a specialized entrepreneurial manner! No more chefs, no more car salesmen, no more farmers!
This is the point of humanity where we devolve(devo) back to cavemen, and come full circle with the beginning and ending of humanity. Our society will construct Dark Towers, dress in fine red, white and blue linens, and sing glorious songs about Cats!
Join with me my brothers and sisters! We will lead the revolution and destroy these tyrannical monsters! No more phantoms of operas! No more crappy sweatshop polo shirts with sweaters tied around the necks! No more Pet Cemetary and Dreamcatcher! We will fight back!
If anybody has any reasons that I am missing to keep these people around please tell me. Is Maximum Overdrive reason enough to keep The Steve? Is Jesus Christ Superstar (movie or play) enough to keep the Lloyd? I think we can all agree that Tommy Hilfiger is a racist douche, so we can dump his sorry, faux-patriotic, crap-fashion ass in a ditch.
Thoughts? Arguments? Comments?
WHOA. What the fuck? Were these two separated at birth? Long ago, in a faraway land, was Steve Lloyd split in two? Where one side, the Lloyd, became a master of dancing gay, musical delight while the other side, the Steve, was cast into shadows to dwell with clowns and tommy knockers? Did Weber spring from the forehead of King? Or some other obscure mythology reference?
I know, it's a lot of questions to throw at you and I apologize, but this is an issue that really needs to be addressed. Preferably before any more clones spring forth in different artistic, creative careers.
Perhaps this is a hidden symbol of intelligent design that we are supposed to figure out; that men without upper lips are more likely to succeed in the area of high school reading lists and musical stagings about Jesus.
OH SHIT. THERE IS ANOTHER ONE!
IT'S TOMMY HILFIGER!
So now the creatures with the big foreheads and massage moustache zoning occupy top tier positions of theater, horror lit, and fashion. Pretty soon, the whole world will look like these three men, like that Twilight Zone episode with the pig-faced people. We will turn into a society of fashionable, musical, writers, meaning all other things will cease to exist in a specialized entrepreneurial manner! No more chefs, no more car salesmen, no more farmers!
This is the point of humanity where we devolve(devo) back to cavemen, and come full circle with the beginning and ending of humanity. Our society will construct Dark Towers, dress in fine red, white and blue linens, and sing glorious songs about Cats!
Join with me my brothers and sisters! We will lead the revolution and destroy these tyrannical monsters! No more phantoms of operas! No more crappy sweatshop polo shirts with sweaters tied around the necks! No more Pet Cemetary and Dreamcatcher! We will fight back!
If anybody has any reasons that I am missing to keep these people around please tell me. Is Maximum Overdrive reason enough to keep The Steve? Is Jesus Christ Superstar (movie or play) enough to keep the Lloyd? I think we can all agree that Tommy Hilfiger is a racist douche, so we can dump his sorry, faux-patriotic, crap-fashion ass in a ditch.
Thoughts? Arguments? Comments?
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