Thank God, I've been waiting for this

That's right, a K-Fed search engine. All is right in the world.

Dr. Pepper is the best

Why didn't I hear about this?

To go along with its "23" ad campaign, Dr. Pepper hid 23 coins in 23 cities throughout the US and Canada. Finding one entitled you to a prize of anywhere from $10,000 - $1 million. The million dollar coin was found last week - in Houston! By a UT grad!

I want a million bucks. That would be super cool.

A convenient truth

Begine with the truism:

A guy is only friends with girls he wants to bang, or

Friendship with Girl --> Desire to Bang Girl (A)

From (A) we deduce that:

A guy is never friends with a girl he wouldn't bang, or

~Desire to Bang Girl --> ~Friendship with Girl (B)

Clearly, (B) is also a true statement, as it is the contrapositive of (A).

The following statement is more difficult to ascertain as self-evident:

If a guy is not friends with a girl, he wouldn't bang her, or

~Friendship with Girl --> ~Desire to Bang Girl (C)

Maintaining (A) as true, (C) sounds like it could hold up as well. However, to assume so would be logical fallacy. In fact, (C) is the negation of (A), and so axiomatically cannot be true.

Now, even though we know that (C) is definitively false, it's sometimes fun to provide counterexamples to help us understand why this is so. It only takes one counterexample to disprove an argument. A counterexample to (C) would be Marisa Miller: I am not friends with Marisa Miller, but I definitely have a desire to bang her brains out.

On a personal note, I am friends with A LOT of girls.

Thus ends the lesson.

Lord, help us

And all of a sudden I have an entire day of free time on my hands. Click the picture for the full show.

UPDATE: Their server must be getting flooded, so be patient after you click, else try again later.

A burning question

What is the correct plural form of "son of a bitch?"

I think I usually pluralize both "sons" and "bitches":

"Those fuckin' sons of bitches."

Often, you'll hear guys say "son of a bitches." That just sounds stupid. If you want to retain the singular "son," at least twang it out and go for the golden "summbitches."

"Those fuckin' son of a bitches."

"Those fuckin' summbitches."

The latter is way better, obviously.

So "summbitches" sounds the best, but the question still remains: what's the correct form?

Boo ya

A guy I work with miraculously stumbled across a PS3 at Best Buy last week. He was going to give it to his kid for Christmas, but later decided to get him a Wii instead (good call). He offered to split net profit on the PS3 with me 50/50 if I would sell it for him on Ebay. I switched off my conscience and agreed.

Let's all say it together: Vince is a fucking whore.

Oh yeah, and in case you missed it...

201-78.

Compare this box score:

To ours:

Other items of note: the attendance comparison (31 vs 15,507), and the play-by-play of the D3 game.

Someone's gotta have this one tape, somewhere.

The history of PunkRockerVince

Way, way back in the day my family had AOL. Well, I say "my family," but it's probably more accurate to just say "I had AOL," because even though my dad paid for it, I was the only who used it. Ever.

My original screen name was MrSmee069. Clever, yes? I pretty much lived in the VH1 chat room, wasting hours and hours talking shit about Hanson and The Wallflowers, or praising the Smashing Pumpkins and Bush, or trying to pick up chicks. Online. Pick up chicks. Online.

[Pause. Navigate Ipod to "Sixteen Stone." Continue]

This is how every, single conversation I ever had with any girl on AOL *EVER* went:

some chick: a/s/l?
me: 13/m/tx, you?
chick: 14/f/ca (they were all from California, defying both logic and geography)
me: what do you look like?
chick: 5'3", blonde, blue eyes, tan, slim. what about you?
me: man, you sound hot. i'm 6'(!?!), brown hair and eyes, half-Mexican.
chick: you sound cute, too. what kind of music do you listen to?
me: alternative, grunge, punk, inustrial (!?!), ska, hard rock. you? (no, I never listened to anything industrial, but it always sounded cool to claim it)
chick: i like anything but country.
me: yeah, i hate country. i won't listen to rap either.
.
.
.

Etc.

And so the seeds of the punk rocker were sown, even though I think the punkest thing I was listening to then was "Dookie."

Eventually, my dad cancelled AOL, so I had to give up the MrSmee069 screen name. Thank Jesus. This was right around the time that Netzero did their "free internet" advertising blitz, maybe 9th or 10th grade, and I jumped right on board with that.

["It's the little things that kill..."]

Obviously, priority numero uno was getting back into the AIM swing of things. So there I was, staring at the screen, wondering what could ever replace Mr Smee as my handle. In what would reveal itself to be a moment of divine inspiration, I looked up, the clouds parted, and God the Father himself placed the word "PunkRockerVince" on my tongue.

And it was born. Of course, by now I had upgraded my punkness to Epitaph fanboy status, so it was a legitimate name. From this point forward, every electronic identifier I had was PunkRockerVince: log-ins, user names, email addresses. It wasn't until about my sophomore year in college that I realized how retarded it was for me to actually give out an email address that automatically identified me as an adolescent with anarchy envy.

But because I'm a lazy fuck, I've never changed it. Besides, I've gotten over the embarrassment. PunkRockerVince will live on.

["Got a machine head..."]

Something else I just thought of: I downloaded a LOT of porn for a LOT of years on a shitty dialup connection. I think this speaks to my dedication and perseverance. Word.

From the height of my "punk" days:

When the light is green, the trap is clean

I was flickin' through the channels last night when something on Hannity & Colmes caught my eye. (An aside: The very thought of Hannity & Colmes makes me sick. Even just now, a little bit of puke came up. I swallowed it back down, though.) What made me stop and pay attention was this:

It's Green Card energy drink! It's marketed to Mexicans who are about to cross the border! Look closely at the tagline, and the logo. That's funny. Really.

The designer and marketer, Jeff Weiss, was on the show to promote it. H&C took the all too predictible line of affront and indignation, and pretty much spent 7 straight minutes railing the guy for everything from aiding and abetting, to exploitation, to supporting terror. But good ol' Jeffy took it all on the chin. And why whouldn't he? His product was getting free exposure - mission accomplished!

That this drink will be marketed to illegal immigrants is a total front. Pedro stops at 7-11 to buy a Green Card on his way to the border, much like Suzie buys a Starbucks on the way to work? Come on, the story's ludicrous. H&C are such fucking meatheads.

The truth is that the kiddies are a major constituent of energy drink consumers as a whole, and so contribute substantially to what is a multi-billion dollar a year industry. Drink companies have responded to this nugget of marketing research gold, and are now scrambling to generate teen-attractive product.

The problem is getting noticed in the wake of an explosion of new brand names; 500+ have been launched in 2006 alone. The effect has been a game of literally nominal oneupsmanship. Hence the existence such clever nomenclature as Cocaine, Crunk, Pimp Juice, Retard Strength(!), and now, Green Card. (Make sure you read the title of Retard Strength website. Great throwback!)

Of course, since the only way I'll drink an energy drink is if you drop a shot of booze into it first, all this means nothing to me, other than that I get to laugh at funny brand names and have something to post about for the day.

A triumphant return

The trip to Chicago went well. My brother John looked sharp; he's off to "A" School in Pensacola as of tomorrow, at the same base of which my grandfather was once Commanding Officer.

The rating that he is going to be training for is Aviation Electronics Technician. I remember a couple years back when I asked him what he wanted to do after he graduated, and he said he was thinking about going to auto mechanic school. I thought that was pretty cool then, but now the thought of him working on fighter jets is a whole lot cooler.

I'm damn proud of him.

---------------

I think I said this last year, but this time I really mean it! I think I'm going to vote for the first time ever tomorrow.

Only to negate my friend's vote, though.

He's kinda pissed about that.

Up, up, and away.

As many of you know, my brother went off and enlisted in the Navy after he graduated from high school. He's been up at Great Lakes for basic the last couple months. His graduation ceremony is on Friday morning, so I'm flying up to Chicago tomorrow to see him officially become a Sailor. Go, John.

It's going to be a fucking cold weekend.

Back Sunday afternoon, so I'll catch you all on Monday.

While I'm gone, here is reading material, regarding Wikipedia's credibility in the world of academia.

How to Destroy the World!

This is awesome.

Imagine, all you need is a coffee can and some spank material.

Hooray, science!

Back

Mini vacation was a success. All the pictures we took were just of us standing in front of this or that, or the typical drinking shots, so I'll spare you.

We stayed here:

No, not at the Alamo, but at the hotel looming behind it, the Emily Morgan. Really nice place. You can see the windows of our room in the picture - top floor, third and fourth ones from the right.

I'm off work today, as well. Back to business tomorrow.

I think I'm dying

In one of those coupon packets that you get in the mail there was a buy one, get one free deal on BK Stackers. I used it for lunch today on the quad stacker, and ate them both.

I now want to kill myself.

Not quite the GUT, but...

I've got a working theory:

A woman's intelligence and/or level of class is inversely proportional to the thickness of her flip flop.

By thickness, I refer to the sole.

So far, the results of experimentation have been positive. I'll keep you posted.

A puzzle

For years I've been trying to figure out what name has the highest percentage of hot chicks attached to it. In my research, I've been able to come up with a few finalists: Lauren, Ashley, Megan.

But what do you think, are there any other possible candidates?

Fuck

It's Friday afternoon. The kid's taking a nap, so I decide to catch up on a little reading. Inevitably, I fall right the fuck asleep.

No complaints though, because I have what may be one of the best dreams I've ever had. (Quick aside: why are nap dreams always so vivid and awesome?) Here's the way it played out -

I was working late, when I suddenly realized that I left a Netflix in the (fictional) DVD player up on 22. I run up to grab it. The hallways and everything are really dark. When I make it up to the (also fictional) lounge area on 22, there is a cleaning lady there.

Now, when I say cleaning lady, I mean a smoking ass hot, 20-something Mexican chick. We talk for a little while, and it occurs to me that this chick is totally down for getting crushed. Onto the love seat we move, and off my pants go, when I hear someone clear their throat behind me.

Who could it be but the MILF of all MILFs that works on 24. In the dream she was playing the role of some sort of matronly figure. For you see, she was accompanied by around 20 other hot young chicks, and no fewer than 3 sets of twins. She made the comment that no one moves on her girls without her permission.

At this, they all started to dance. Did I mention that these girls were all wearing halter tops and spandex ass shorts? She told me that most of them worked as strippers as well. I replied that I could see that. Several of them made the patented stripper eye contact with me, and proceeded to advance toward me.

It was at this moment in time that I realized that I was in the place I want to be when I die - a room full of women who not only get paid to get naked and rub me down, but to clean up after me as well.

It was also at this moment in time that my cell phone rang. It was my boss, with a question about some questionable volumes on the July reforecast.

Fuck.

Happy World Cupping, and drinking, this weekend.

Hipster Erotica

I stole this right from Stereogum, but they stole it too. It is just genius.



Corporate-Casual's crafted some lovely hipster erotica:

The other day I made my daily pilgrimage to Cup of Life, the local Free Trade coffee shop that bravely struggles to show these sheep that there are alternatives to the exploitative monster that is Starfucks. I ordered my cup of "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go Blend" Honduran Green Mountain, when I heard a familiar voice behind me. "Let me get this." A man in a baseball cap stepped forward and said, "Make that two." Oh. My. God. Sufjan Stevens just bought my coffee. I didn't know what to do. He turned and smiled at me. "Want to get a table?" he asked. "Better yet, want to go back to your place?" I was shaking as Janice, who does a pretty amazing burlesque act that totally reappropriates homonoramtive ideas about sexuality and femininty, handed me my cup of coffee and shrugged.
Sufjan Stevens and I sat on the edge of my bed and talked for hours about everything. It sounds dumb to say it, but he actually gets me. He said that I was one of the most genuine people he'd ever met, and that I was actually cool, not like one of those people who obviously wants to be cool, but who just is, like a coolness that comes from deep within and is as much a refutation of cool as an embrace of it. We held hands and talked about the future, and about how Teddy Geiger is a corporate construct, and about animatronic puppets at Disneyworld taking over the planet. Sufjan Stevens has the most amazing eyes. Then Sufjan Stevens pulled out his guitar and played a song that he'd written just for me. It was called "Amanda Knows What No One Else Knows She Has the Most Beautiful Nose! Eureeka!" When he'd finished the song he wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, and told me that my outfit was amazing. "I would never have thought to put that top with those trousers," (he used the word trousers! so cute!), "but it totally works. And I see a lot of outfits when I'm out on tour. Speaking of, would you like to go on tour with me?"

Then, slowly, Sufjan Stevens pulled down my sweat shop-free American Apparel boys' shorts and slid one, two, then three fingers into my vagina.