Choose Equality

Much love to I Drew This.

And I wish I had...

Survival of the Candy-Coated Fittest

Oh my god, I love this. I'm going to do it forever now.

Survival Of The Fittest

Whenever I get a package of plain M&Ms, I make it my duty to continue the strength and robustness of the candy as a species. To this end, I hold M&M duels.

Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure, squeezing them together until one of them cracks and splinters. That is the "loser," and I eat the inferior one immediately. The winner gets to go another round.

I have found that, in general, the brown and red M&Ms are tougher, and the newer blue ones are genetically inferior. I have hypothesized that the blue M&Ms as a race cannot survive long in the intense theater of competition that is the modern candy and snack-food world.

Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is misshapen, or pointier, or flatter than the rest. Almost invariably this proves to be a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the candy extra strength. In this way, the species continues to adapt to its environment.

When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&M, the strongest of the herd. Since it would make no sense to eat this one as well, I pack it neatly in an envelope and send it to M&M Mars, A Division of Mars, Inc., Hackettstown, NJ 17840-1503 U.S.A., along with a 3x5 card reading, "Please use this M&M for breeding purposes."

This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a free 1/2 pound bag of plain M&Ms. I consider this "grant money." I have set aside the weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of hundreds, we will discover the True Champion.

There can be only one.

I will take you out bitches.

Pavlov's Secret

Kitty Cuteness

Prepare to be nauseated by the sheer cuteness you are about to witness.























































I warned you.

Colorfall

So cool.

No idea how this was done.

(gotten from here)

Checkmate.

Cute Cuddly Quandary

Have you ever been laying on the couch all cozy and warm with both your cats laying on your legs and really Really had to pee?

I mean really.

(it's so cute, but I can't get the camera to dump the pictures on my computer)

HAHAHAHA!

LOVE IT!

O'Reilly v. Little Girl - Beat Down O' the Century

Ok, so I've basically been cruising the internet all day (I did go to work for about 3 hours and took an equally long nap... it's a rough life...) and what I've found has been well worth all the crap I've trolled through (again... rough life).

Thanks to the Cincinnati Beacon, my world has become a little brighter.

Political exchange of the year: Bill O’Reilly vs the “coolest 8 year old girl in the world” Saturday, December 23, 2006

Posted by Andrew Warner

Out of all the things that happened this year, watching Bill O’Reilly get intellectually bitch-slapped by an eight year old, scripted or not, was one of the funniest moments of the year.

If you’ve never seen the infamous video, in which a young girl accuses the Republican party of killing more people than rap music and video games (a true fact), calls God fictitious (if that’s not true, prove it), and claims children should learn empathy in place of divisive religious beliefs; watch every second of it:Bill O’Reilly decried the video as an act of child abuse. I guess because she used the word “ass” and told the truth about religion’s bloody history? In the spirit of fair and objective journalism, I will put O’Reilly’s stupid-ass side of the argument up as well:

Did you catch that? This is what the “child advocate” said:

“Using a child as a tool to promote propaganda, political propaganda, about which the child understands nothing… is the ultimate inhumane treatment of a child.”

So teaching a child empathy, logic, and the use of scientific and statistical knowledge to critique the theories of half-cocked pundits like Bill O’Reilly; tops child rape, child beating, and child pornography on the list of ways to inhumanely treat a child. That’s rich. Not to mention the child was “acting.”

Really? The ultimate inhumane treatment of a child? Are you sure? Why don't you get back to us on that one.

Demotivators

I want all of them.

More at despair.com

I'm So Loaded

I'm the 753,678,765 richest person on earth! Discover how rich you are! >> Don't make me beg.

Enjoy the Ride

Idol-itry

Holy mother of god, I'm hooked on American Idol.

Somebody shoot me.

However, there was a bright spot in this black hole of television (that is currently sucking me in) - Sherman Pore, age 64. Yes, he's too old; yes, he'd never advance to the next level; but, yes, he can sing and we all love him. His started his quest to be on Idol because his wife was in the cancer ward and he wanted something to help keep her mind off her illness. She died two days before he auditioned.

I'm all teary now.

And why oh why does Ryan Seacrest have his own star on the walk of fame?!?

I *Heart* These Tees

Holy crap!












Check out BustedTees for more.

I'm So Much Cooler Now.

Yes that's right. It has happened. I have actually become cooler.

This is why -








I now own these records.

Now I just need a record player...

It's Been Real, and it's Been Fun...But...

I'm taking Sam off my blog. I mean, he can read it (you can read it, sweetie), but he will no longer be able to post. Not that he ever has.... or would....

I wonder how long it's gonna take for him to notice.

I'm thinking 4 weeks.

The Great American Siren Song

I hate Sam's Club. I hate what it represents - the American culture of MORE. You walk in to Sam's and all you can see is big - big carts, big aisles, big shelves. Pallets of coffee creamer; 6lb tubs of cookie dough; 10 packs of toothbrushes - who needs these things?!

And yet, in all my repulsion and disgust, I am drawn. I too am seduced into the fluorescent lighting by the siren's call for a 24 case of Frappacino. In this den of gluttony I am convinced that I, too, need 64 rolls of Charmin and a bag of 32 frozen Teriyaki chicken breasts.

The Sam's Club siren laughs as she pulls me, her newly snared prey, deeper into her nest of greed, gluttony, and MORE. As I start grabbing buckets and tubes off the shelves I don't even justify it to myself anymore - I use these, so I'll use them up. It's okay if I buy surplus because I use these. Ah, and there she has me. Because I use these products there is no doubt I should get them because eventually I'll use them.

As I lug my purchases through the over filled, over sized lot full of oversized people in their oversized cars I start to regain a sense of myself. I redden slightly at the items I've bought knowing I should have been stronger. Damn the siren call of Sam's Club. Damn them all. Next time I'll be stronger. Next time I'll resist.

Suspense in a Box

Television is simultaneously ruling and ruining my life. I blame my current lack of blogging on TV. More specifically, on a little show I like to call 24. Sam and I are now fully engulfed in the 24 phenomenon. However, before you start posting comments like "OMG! Can U BELIEVE what soandso did?!? Who saw THAT coming?!?" No, I cannot believe it and I didn't see it coming because we are still on the second season of the show. (But don't worry, we're DVRing the current season so we don't have to wait for it on DVD.) This show is the most suspensful, emotional rollercoaster - I can't believe that I (and millions of other TV faithfuls) subject ourselves to this insane torture each week! I don't see how people can stand to watch it live (not on DVD) - I can barely stand the 28 seconds it takes me to queue up the disk to the next episode, let alone the whole week most people wait in between shows. Crazy. Simply crazy.


Pick a number, Jack.
Any number...

All Growd Up

I bought my own car insurance policy today.

I'm officially an adult.

I feel so old.

I'm So Freakin' Bored

Sam's back on evenings. This blows. All I've been doing lately is coming home from work, turning the TV on, and staying on the computer all night. Woo hoo... the exciting life of a 24-year-old.

And even now... I know I should get off the couch and do some laundry. But no, I'm still here.

4 days down... 4 months to go.