planetdan

Tuesday, January 26, 2010 :::

Three times is enough, honey.

I happened across this mindblowing item at Walgreens today:

So let me see if I can figure this out: McDonalds makes a commercial that pokes fun of those horrible Big Mouth Billy Bass singing fish contraptions and the people who like them. It makes everyone laugh because it is so awful. Years later, and completely missing the irony, someone else licenses the concept to manufacture a new version of the Big Mouth Billy Bass that now sings the McDonald's Filet O Fish song that was used in the commercial that was originally produced to mock those animatronic fish and the people who buy them in the first place. At $20 a pop.

It's like a horrible, viscious circle that keeps spawning useless, expensive crap and bad marketing ideas, each one worse than the previous, in a never-ending loop of bad taste. You'd have to be a moron to buy one.

And yet I stood there at Walgreen's and pushed the play button on him three times in a row while I waited to check out, singing along with every "whooo!" until I realized the cashier was not only unimpressed, but literally scowling at me. It's a shame that I turned off the video camera just as she began to chastize me in front of the other customers, because they all laughed when she said, "Three times is enough, honey, give the fish a break."

And I have to admit that I'm dying to hear the Club Remix Bonus Track.

:(

::: posted by dan at 5:23 PM :: [ link ] :: (3) comments

Sunday, January 24, 2010 :::

Straight up, wait up, hold up, Mr. Lover.

Oh no! I shouldn't have hesitated! These are sold out!

Man, they are totally in effect.

Unfortunately, the following item is not actually for sale, because I know certain expecting someones who I'm sure would love this to compliment their nursery room decor:

::: posted by dan at 4:53 PM :: [ link ] :: (1) comments

Tuesday, January 19, 2010 :::

Prime Time Debut

I was on MTV's The Buried Life last night:

It was almost two full seconds of airtime surrounded on both sides by some show about four guys traveling around the country in a bus trying to accomplish everything on Bucket List. So I guess that means I can cross "Appear on MTV" off my own Bucket List. If I even had a Bucket List. And if being on MTV were a part of it. Which it probably wouldn't be. And of course, you can't even recognize me. But still, it was quite excitin'.

YOU. ARE. JEALOUS.

You can watch the whole episode here. I'm somewhere in the middle, animated for about two seconds.

::: posted by dan at 8:20 AM :: [ link ] :: (8) comments

Sunday, January 17, 2010 :::

I Want My DanTV

A few months ago a lawyer emailed me and asked for my permission to use this image on some MTV show I'd never heard of before:

It felt nice to get a non-threatening letter from a lawyer about my website, so without giving it much thought, I said "sure, go ahead." But then later it occurred to me that I probably should have gotten a few more details first. Even though I had already given my consent, I emailed back and asked in what context my picture would be used, because I had begun to imagine the worst (ridicule, derision, Jersey Shore, etc). They were kind enough to respond, and told me that they wanted to use it for some innocuous reason that I can't specifically recall on an upcoming show called The Buried Life. And to think that I didn't even win the costume contest that Halloween.

Cut to five months later, and the show is finally debuting tomorrow (Monday) night on MTV. They never guaranteed they would actually use my image on the show, and they never told me what episode it might air in if they even did, and the total cumulative airtime would probably amount to less than two seconds maximum, but I'm excited for my Prime Time debut nonetheless and have set up my DVR accordingly.

Unless this was all a ploy just to get me to watch their show, in which case they are diabolical and I applaud them.

::: posted by dan at 4:14 PM :: [ link ] :: (3) comments

Saturday, January 16, 2010 :::

In the Name of Science!

When I first saw this video online a couple years ago I was simultaneously horrified and fascinated...

...until I realized that it was most likely fake, since infrared or thermographic flatulence would appear to be the same hue or color as the body, if not lighter, wouldn't it? Plus if it were real, the sheer volume was disturbing and that subject would surely have some major intestinal issues that might even require hospitalization. After a quick google search, I was confronted with the disappointment that it was indeed fraudulent flatulence. Can't one trust the internet anymore?

And THEN I saw this animated GIF on a web forum the other day, which re-ignited the same sense of shock and awe that I had felt years before, only at least this color representation seemed more realistic and plausible:

But the location of the emission seemed a little too high, and I had already been burned once before, so I went on another web search to see if I could verify the authenticity. Alas, I couldn't locate the source, even with the tantalizing clues that this video apparently aired on NBC and The Travel Channel? What the what?

And THEN I found this sadly static image, which has a slightly more respectable attribution than any of the previous examples, having apparently come from SciencePhotos.com:

But how can you ever know for sure? So I tried researching the origins of the image or the lab/photographer that captured it, but authentication still eluded me. Seriously, with the abundance of information available at my fingertips within the world wide web, this shouldn't be so difficult, should it?

And THEN I realized I was spending way too much time investigating farts on the intarwebs and I shuddered in self-disgust as my eyes welled up with bitter tears of regret. But I ignore my pride and pass these findings along to you in the name of science. Make of it what you will and take from it what you can.

::: posted by dan at 12:18 PM :: [ link ] :: (1) comments

Saturday, January 09, 2010 :::

Crazy Like A Fox

Yeah, it's cold. It was nearly -20° outside when I woke up this morning, not including the windchill. It's also very snowy. Ever since the Christmas Day snowstorm, I've been continuously shoveling myself out.

Shoveling is one of my least favorite jobs in the world, second only to mowing the lawn, so I try to make a grand show of it for all my neighbors. It's all a part of my secret plan. Every time I bump into a neighbor while shoveling or mowing the lawn, I make sure to remark about how much I hate that particular task, very consciously hoping that they will remember my remark the next time they are shoveling or mowing their own yards and perhaps find it in their hearts to do mine as well. It's not such a clever or subtle trick, but it's actually worked quite often in the past. So I've stuck with it.

But a couple nights ago I was shoveling and a neighbor stepped out of the duplex next to my house. It was dark and I couldn't tell if I recognized him or not, so I casually shoveled my way over in his direction until I was close enough to say "Hey," and do a casual neighborly wave. He said "Hey," back and then went about his business. I didn't recognize him but I had to play it cool if I was going to con him into shoveling my walk the next time it snowed, and he seemed like he was going to be a tough nut to crack.

Finally, after I pretended to push snow around every which way I could within his vicinity for a good five minutes, the man finally broke the awkward silence and said, "Cold enough for ya?" which is one of my least favorite rhetorical questions of all time. But it was also an opening. For some reason, my first instinct was to reply, "You're telling me!" but I quickly realized that wouldn't make sense in the context, so midway through I tried to jump start my secret plan by remarking, "Shoveling is the worst!" but it all mixed together.

"You're the worst," I told my new neighbor whom I had never met.

I took way too long to recover, and then just babbled, "I mean it's the worst. This is the worst. Shoveling is the worst. Man do I hate this. I didn't mean you were the worst. Ha ha, that's funny. Obviously I wouldn't know if you were the worst since we never met... I'm Dan by the way."

"Tom, we just moved in." Then he turned away.

"Oh okay Tom, well let me know if you ever need anything. Feel free to knock, that's what neighbors are for!" But I think it was too late. I doubt Tom will be shoveling my walk anytime soon. I wanted to stick my head in the snow and die.

Bonus Related Foxy Animated GIF.

::: posted by dan at 9:31 AM :: [ link ] :: (1) comments

Friday, January 08, 2010 :::

Sheer Genius

My mom cut my hair until I was nearly 18, which means she has cut my hair for the majority of my life so far. From my curly blond baby locks all the way to the eventual and unfortunate side-spike/mullet combo. And not to knock my mom's haircutting ability in any way, but I kinda looked like a kid whose mom cut his hair.

Of course, I thought nothing of it at the time. I went to a catholic school and wore uniforms all day and didn't really care what I looked like until the 7th or 8th grade, which is around the same time that I adopted the daily routine of deodorant, and everything just snowballed from there. Now I get my haircut every four weeks to the day and I'm quite particular about it.

This is all making me sound like some grubby little runt of a kid, but I was actually the opposite. Except for the haircuts.

You see, my mother was not a trained stylist in anyway. She just had a husband, four kids, a pair of scissors, and a limited budget. Let me remind you of some of the results:

But that's not the worst of it. Apparently my dad was such a big Star Trek fan in his youth, that he always requested the angular "Spock" sideburns treatment at the barber. This continued into his adulthood and marriage, when my mom took over his haircutting duties and honed her techniques.

I don't think she ever actually realized that my father's haircut was Star Trek inspired. She just thought that's the way guys were doing it in those days. So due to her limited haircutting experience, that particular distinctive hairstyle was also transferred onto me by default.

Which means that when I wasn't running around looking like the hydrocephalic wolfchild pictured above, I was running around looking like this:

It's no wonder I am how I am today.

::: posted by dan at 12:32 PM :: [ link ] :: (1) comments

Thursday, December 31, 2009 :::

New Math for the New Year

I was watching Jeopardy today when I suddenly got curious about what might be the highest possible amount a contestant could win in one game, if they happened to answer every single question correctly, including all the Double and Final Jeopardies (assuming they always bet the maximum). So being the biggest nerd on the planet, I did some math:

Jeopardy Round:
Six Categories, six dollar amounts: $200, $400, $600, $800, $1000
$3,000 x 6 = $18,000
One Daily Double, assuming it's in the $200 spot (which it never is) and a player picked that one last: 17,800 x 2 = $35,600

Double Jeopardy Round:
Six Categories, six dollar amounts: $400, $800, $1200, $1600, $2000
$6,000 x 6 = $36,000
Two Daily Doubles, assuming they're in the $400 spots (which they never are) and a player picked them last: $35,200 + $35,600 from first round x 2 = $141,600 x 2 = $283,200

Double it for Final Jeopardy = $566,400

Although it would probably something a tad less than that, because Daily Doubles are generally located in the higher dollar amounts, although I don't know if there's any rule that says they AWLAYS are.

By contrast, it took Ken Jennings over 75 games to win just $3,022,700, which by my calculations, he should have been able to do in 6 if he were really all that smart.

What has this got to do with New Years?
EFF YOU! THAT'S WHAT IT'S GOT TO DO WITH NEW YEARS!

::: posted by dan at 4:35 PM :: [ link ] :: (3) comments

Friday, December 25, 2009 :::

The Reason for the Season

Merry Xmas Everyone!

::: posted by dan at 12:31 PM :: [ link ] :: (2) comments

Wednesday, December 23, 2009 :::

The Season of Giving

I was at the gas station yesterday and I had just purchased my Powerball tickets. I was about to leave when I heard the customer at the cashier next to me say "Hey man, do you have that new Mario game for the Wii?" and the guy behind the counter said, "We don't sell video games here. It's a gas station."

So I looked over and saw that the curious customer was a younger fella, maybe around the age of 14 or so, and not mentally handicapped, but certainly not at the head of his class either. The boy continued "No man, I'm not asking if you sell it, I'm asking if you have it."

The employee said "You mean, like, personally?" the older cashier asked.

"Yeah, man," he answered.

So the gas station attendant answered a little warily, "No, I don't."

"Oh, man, that's too bad cuz it's really cool."

There was an awkward silence. I looked around and realized that everyone in the gas station was watching the interaction with mild interest. The conversation seemed over, but the cashier and boy were still locking eyes, expectantly. Finally, the boy broke the silence:

"You know what else is cool?" he asked.

After a long beat, the cashier finally relented and responded, "No... what?"

"Dirty magazines," replied the kid, a little too quickly.

Like a good train wreck, nobody could take their eyes off the scene. The cashier stared at the boy. The boy stared at the cashier. The entire gas station stared at the duo. And all the dirty magazines behind the counter stared back at everyone. That's when I realized what game the kid was playing, and how badly he was playing it.

The crowd waited with anticipation, wondering how the cashier would reply. But he must have been an expert at this kind of situation, because he glared at the boy without blinking or breaking eye contact, waited just long enough for it to get extremely uncomfortable, and then replied with as little inflection as possible:

"Okay then, have a good day."

The kid got the hint and left, seemingly unshamed by the exchange. I guess I can't blame the kid for trying, but he's gotta work on his strategy a bit.

Speaking of the possibility of free p0rn, I finally got rid of the BBOP. The willing recipient will have to reveal him/herself in his/her own good time. But I'm glad to be rid of that thing. I hope it's better appreciated in its new home.

::: posted by dan at 7:26 PM :: [ link ] :: (4) comments

Monday, December 21, 2009 :::

Um, whut?

Man Performs Bum-Sniffing Assault on Workers at Co-Op

I know I can space out a little sometimes, but how do you not notice someone sticking their face in your rear twenty times in a row? Wouldn't you start thinking, "How many bottom-shelf yogurts does that guy need?"

::: posted by dan at 9:22 PM :: [ link ] :: (1) comments

Thursday, December 17, 2009 :::

A Pre-New Years Resolution

I know I am not a nice person because I can observe other people acting much more mature and making kind, empathetic decisions that I would never make in a similar situation. For example:

We had our holiday work dinner party last night. Apparently I got a little overzealous during the dessert course and unbeknownst to me I had somehow managed to smear chocolate sauce across my forehead. When my friend and coworker Cherry Nut noticed this, she discreetly leaned forward, pointed at her own forehead, said "You have some chocolate right here," and went on with her own table discussion as if nothing had happened.

By comparison, had I been in the same situation and noticed some chocolate smeared across her forehead, I probably would have snickered, nudged the person next to me and gotten them to notice. Then I would've regained my composure for long enough to ask her to pose for a picture as if nothing were the matter. Then I would have posted it online the second I had the chance and laughed even harder as I imagined her getting home that evening and going to the mirror to wash her face before bed and realizing...

I'd like to think I wouldn't act like this, but one case in point against me would be the time my good friend C-Minus and I were eating spaghetti at an Italian restaurant, and she somehow got a piece of meatball and some sauce to stick right in the middle of her neck without noticing. I let her walk around like that all night, not because I was afraid to embarrass her by pointing it out, but because it was funnier to leave it there.

I'm not going to be like that anymore, though. I'm going to turn over a new leaf and live my life by the Golden Rule: Tell Someone When They've Got A Meatball On Their Neck Just Like You'd Like Someone To Tell You If You've Got Chocolate Sauce on Your Forehead.

::: posted by dan at 7:00 PM :: [ link ] :: (1) comments

Tuesday, December 08, 2009 :::

Super Sinus Friction

A few months ago I took a cab to an event where I knew parking would be an issue. It's kind of rare to take a cab in Minneapolis when you aren't drunk, in my limited experience. But it's better than circling the block for two hours.

The foreign cabbie was was chatty. And absurdly vulgar. He began by insulting all the people on the street and talking about their flaws. They were apparently all former fares, and most of the ladies were once "skinny and hot" but were now fat and "repulsing." A lot of the guys were "up-nosed assholes" or "lowlifers." I started to get nervous about my own behavior, because god knows what how he would describe me to all his future fares if I didn't play it right. So I tried not to act like an "up-nosed asshole," whatever that was. I also vowed not to walk by any cabs if I happened to gain any weight in the future. Those foreign cabbies are apparently a fickle bunch, with superlative memories to boot.

I'll leave out any further expletives, but he continued like so: "You like Sinus Friction?"

His accent wasn't great to begin with, but this was perplexing because I had no idea how to interpret it, and it was especially coincidental that I had been battling with a Neti Pot at the time, which did indeed cause a little Sinus Friction. But I wouldn't say I liked it, and why would he even care?

"What?" I replied.

"Sinus Friction. Sinus Friction! You know, like voodoo and interspace and Vulkings. Sinus Friction!" And then it clicked, "Ohhhh, Science Fiction," I corrected him.

"Yes, Sinus Friction. If you like Sinus Friction, then you go downtown and look at the lights. It's like Super Sinus Friction, man."

"How do you mean?" I questioned.

"Just go downtown to Marquette and 11th and you'll see what I mean. Traffic signs from future. Super Sinus Friction. You see that girl there walking the dog? She used to be hot but now she's super fat, man, hahahahahahahahaha."

It was all very cryptic. I wasn't sure how it was all related, but I memorized the intersection for future reference and eventually exited the cab a few blocks early because he was making me uncomfortable. But for months I kept it in the back of my mind whenever I was driving through downtown, yet I never seemed to make it to that particular intersection.

Then a few days ago I was waiting at a stoplight and I looked up: Marquette and 11th. The Super Sinus Friction intersection. This was it. I looked around in anticipation, expecting some amazing traffic lightshow with lasers or talking robots. This is what I saw:

It's a light-up LED No Left Turn sign. It doesn't even blink. Even if you could attribute it to being in the realm of "Science Fiction" (which would be a major stretch) you certainly couldn't refer to it as being "super" in any way.

Don't ever let that guy write for Star Trek, because his imagination isn't exactly forward-thinking. Someone should get him a Lite Brite for Christmas and blow his mind.

Talk about disappointing. But I guess I shouldn't put so much stock in the crazy ramblings of a foreign cabbie with undiagnosed Tourette Syndrome.

::: posted by dan at 6:28 PM :: [ link ] :: (2) comments

Monday, December 07, 2009 :::

Brassy McSassypants

Note to self:

* Brass Ring is a third-party career portral that large coporations use to outsource their employment and hiring websites.

* Brass Rail is a stripper pole. It's also a gay strip club in downtown Minneapolis.

Try not to interchange the two during important client meetings anymore. It makes for many strange looks. Especially when it comes out something like "I'll have to take a closer look at the Brass Rail to see what I'm capable of doing with it."

And here is a related animated GIF repost:

P.S. I hate the phrase "note to self" passionately, but I couldn't seem to find a way around it this time. I promise to try harder in the future.

::: posted by dan at 6:14 PM :: [ link ] :: (3) comments

Thursday, December 03, 2009 :::

"Because I am, in many ways, a six year old."

I hope his specialty is sanitation and septic systems.

I once knew a guy named Boody. No lie.

Awesomest. Name. Ever.

::: posted by dan at 5:17 PM :: [ link ] :: (6) comments

Wednesday, December 02, 2009 :::

What not to buy dan for xmas, vol. II.

By the graciousness of a good friend, I was able to try out a Snuggie the other day. I do not see the point. It was more cumbersome than convenient, and even by her own admission, the owner wears it backwards and ties the sleeves around her neck otherwise they "just keep getting in the way." So she basically had to turn it into a robe-cape to make it effective.

Look at me reading a book AND drinking wine AND staying warm all at the same time! Of course, I'm always the kind of guy who is uncomfortably hot and sweaty in any and all environments anyway, so perhaps I am not the target market for this type of thing. At least the color is somewhat flattering to my complexion.

This seems like a good time to bring back this video. It's full of naughty language and it's been seen over eight millions times, but I think it might need to be seen at least eight million more:

My friend looks really good in hers, though. :)

::: posted by dan at 5:08 PM :: [ link ] :: (2) comments

Friday, November 27, 2009 :::

A Kickass Xmas 2009

Yay! Thanksgiving is over and we can now listen to Xmas Music guilt-free! And it's a good thing, because my annual xmas mix is pretty darned solid this year, even if the planetdan/polar bear hybrid image I made for the cover seems to be creeping people out instead of putting them in the yuletide mood:

Tracklist:

01. Bring Out The Bells - Andy Williams
02. Christmas Song - Cocoon
03. Let It Snow - A Fine Frenzy
04. Sleigh Ride - Ella Fitzgerald
05. Someday At Christmas (Alternate Version) - Jack Johnson
06. Soul Cake - Sting
07. The Heartache Can Wait - Brandi Carlile
08. Do They Know It's Christmas - Pete Yorn
09. O Come All Ye Faithful - Shawn Lee's Ping Pong Orchestra
10. Little Drummer Boy - Family Force 5
11. Winter Wonderland - Goldfrapp
12. Ol' Saint Nicholas - Doris Day
13. Jingle Bells - Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
14. Oh, Sweet Christmas - Oh, Sweet Music
15. Jeanette, Isabella - Tori Amos
16. Christmas In The Room - Sufjan Stevens
17. Here We Come A-Wassailing - Kate Rusby
18. Buon Natale - Nat King Cole
19. Handel's Hallelujah Chorus - Relient K
20. Christmas - Rogue Wave
21. Christmas in London - Krista Detor
22. It Came Upon A Midnight Clear - Laura Gibson
23. I Like a Sleighride - Peggy Lee
24. Spiritual Guidance - Titan
25. It's Almost Christmas - Chris Garneau
26. Maybe Next Year -Meiko

And if you send me a friendly email, I might be able to point you in the direction of some MP3s...

::: posted by dan at 10:40 AM :: [ link ] :: (9) comments

Tuesday, November 24, 2009 :::

What not to buy dan for xmas.

The World's Largest Gummy Bear. Only $30.

Available at Vat19.

DO NOT WANT. Although you get free shipping if you spend over $99, which means you only need to buy four of them - one in each color and an extra backup blue one!

You can also get them on a stick, which seems very awkward and just a tad perverse.

::: posted by dan at 7:32 AM :: [ link ] :: (4) comments

Friday, November 20, 2009 :::

Animated Friday (Awkward and Embarrassing Edition)!

I'm not the only one who falls, trips, stumbles or just generally embarrasses himself on a regular basis. Even adults and professionals can look stupid:

Soccer players do it.

Gymnasts do it.

Even people in the middle east do it.

But this one might be my favorite: Nice save, buddy.

::: posted by dan at 7:18 AM :: [ link ] :: (2) comments

Thursday, November 19, 2009 :::

The Case of the Missing Subway Sandwich

I've been very busy at work lately, and combine that with the upcoming holidays and the BBOP stinking up the back of my closet(see below), I've been fairly distracted. Which is probably why I lost my Subway sandwich for a good 45 minutes today.

I had used my lunch hour to pick up two ginormous armfuls of drycleaning and a low-fat Buffalo Chicken. I'm the kind of guy who needs to do everything in one trip, no matter how difficult. So with about fifty pounds of clothing in each arm and a fountain drink balanced in the middle, I trudged through my garage, avoided my dirty wet car, took off my shoes, walked up two flights of stairs, and got to my closet without spilling a drop.

After the relief of hanging up the heavy clothes I realized that the only thing missing was my Subway sammich.

My first distressing thought was that it had fallen onto the dirty garage floor, but upon inspection there was no sign of it. I looked inside the car and under the seats. I retraced my steps from the garage to the bedroom. I even checked the kitchen fridge (although how it would have gotten there would have been an even bigger mystery). No sammich.

I thought back to being at the Subway. I could remember walking out of the place with the fountain drink, but was I actually carrying the Subway bag, too? I had no recollection of it. So I drove back to Subway, scanning the gutters and sidewalks along the way just in case I had left it on the top of my car or it had somehow managed to fall out of the window. No sammich.

Back at Subway, I didn't want to run up to the counter and say "'Scuse me, sir, but have you seen a sandwich? I lost my sandwich. Can anyone help me find my sandwich?" so I discreetly checked the soda station and the potato chip bin. No sammich. I carefully peeked around the corner to the front counter to see if there was an unaccounted for bag patiently waiting for its owner's return. No sammich. I resisted the urge to purchase a replacement.

I walked the same path back to my car, looking carefully at my feet for any dropped items. No sammich.

Back at home I started to get angry. How does a sandwich just disappear? I rechecked all the places I had already rechecked. I found my receipt to make sure that I had indeed purchased a sandwich in the first place. Everything seemed to be in order. Still no sammich.

On an impulse I went back up to my bedroom closet and stared at the drycleaning. I had gone to the drycleaners BEFORE the Subway, so I couldn't have left the sandwich there. Exasperated, I absentmindedly punched one of my drycleaning bags to let out a little steam, and out from between the two big bags of laundered suits, shirts, and slacks fell my missing sack lunch. Relief enveloped me like a warm summer breeze.

Unfortunately, the sandwich turned out to be not worth the hassle. Never stray from ordering your usual at a place like Subway. You'll always be disappointed.

Upon retelling the story to C-Minus, she found the silver lining: at least I hadn't given up on the search and found the sandwich weeks later after it had turned to a smelly bag of liquid rot.

::: posted by dan at 12:34 PM :: [ link ] :: (3) comments

Wednesday, November 18, 2009 :::

I Can Haz Ancient Internet Memes on Jeopardy for 200 Alex.

And two years later, Jeopardy finally caught up to the Internet today:

What was really strange was that Alex said the name of the category with a Russian accent, and the contestants followed suit. I never imagined that cat to have a Russian accent. I thought it would be more American Yokel. Maybe Cockney British. But never Russian.

::: posted by dan at 5:25 PM :: [ link ] :: (2) comments

Monday, November 16, 2009 :::

My Dilemma

So I've gotten myself into a little dilemma RE: The Big Box of Porn (BBOP) I Found in My Garbage. It's just sitting in the back of my closet collecting dust and I've started to worry about the hopefully-unlikely event of my untimely death due to some unforeseen accident or terrorist attack. It's just begging to be discovered by some unsuspecting innocent relative as they battle through their grief to clean out my house, and how would I ever be able to explain myself from beyond the grave?

But seriously, none of my friends seem want the BBOP (or maybe they just don't want to admit that they want the BBOP). I've only received one reader request for the BBOP, but I started thinking about that option and the question arose: What if he's just some pimply 15-year-old kid pretending to be of legal age, and I go and ship the box off to him, and his mom intercepts this BBOP from dan in Minneapolis addressed to her adolescent son? Not good.

I can't put it up on Craigslist because I don't want some creepy porn perv coming to my house to collect the goods, and I certainly don't want to venture out of the house with the BBOP to make a delivery.

It seems that the only real option is to allow the BBOP to be destroyed or to be hauled away with the worthless refuse, which is unfortunate. But I don't want to put it back in my own garbage because god knows who might find it there or what the garbage man might think (besides "jackpot!"), and I don't want to shove it in someone else's garbage and force them into the same dilemma in which I find myself right now.

I could find some sort of public trash option, but that seems a little too out in the open, and I don't know anyone who lives in an apartment who might be able to anonymously dispose of the thing.

I could throw them away one-at-a-time I suppose, buried deep within the trash and surrounded by a dozen dirty Lean Cuisine containers. But that just seems like such an awful, shameful way to die. What did the BBOP ever do to deserve such a fate?

Seriously. What am I supposed to do with this BBOP? It's becoming a real burden. I see some sort of Aesop Fable hidden somewhere in this tale, something slightly askew of the "careful what you wish for..." school of thought.

::: posted by dan at 12:59 PM :: [ link ] :: (11) comments

Thursday, November 05, 2009 :::

The Trashman's Delight

I went to toss out some garbage the other day, and sitting right on top of a week's worth of trash was this big box of old-school pornography videos:

I immediately assumed that the old coot across the alley was using my trash bin to get rid of his pornography stash without tipping off his old lady. Or maybe someone else in the neighborhood was finally making the upgrade to DVD. Regardless, I had to make the decision: rescue the videos from my garbage or let the sanitation department dispose of them as someone clearly intended.

Having worked in a video store for almost five years in my youth, I know much more about old Triple-X videos than necessary, and I could tell that some of these videos in particular were classics, starring the likes of John Holmes and Ron Jeremy. It seemed like a shame to send them off to the landfill. But on the other hand, I'm not exactly a porn video type of guy, and rescuing them would mean: a) reaching into my garbage can, and b) touching somebody else's porn collection. Neither of which seemed very appealing or advisable to me.

And yet, I reached into the garbage can.

I have one friend in particular who I thought would be thrilled to adopt the big box of mystery pornography, but to my surprise he was not interested. "Who even owns a VCR anymore?" was his ungrateful reply. And he's right. So now I got a big box of pornography videos hidden in my closet like a guilty teenager or something, and I have no idea what to do with them. Plus I'm afraid to touch them.

Any ideas? Or, should I take a vote:

Vote A for: Throw them back in the trash where they belong, you freak.
Vote B for: Hold onto them until you can find a grateful recipient.
Vote C for: OMG can I have them please? Send them to:

P.S. I'll hate to see what this post does to my Google Ads.

P.P.S. Sky Pies. LOL.

::: posted by dan at 9:30 PM :: [ link ] :: (19) comments

Wednesday, November 04, 2009 :::

Vote Lombard!

So I voted yesterday, of course. We got a new voting method in Minneapolis which lets you rank your top three preferences for each position in order of preference. Which is a good thing, because our choices for Mayor this year were too interesting to be able to pick just one:

Guess who my third choice was?

VOTE LOMBARD, 2009!

This isn't the first time I've posted a picture of our voting ballot. We always seem to have odd voting options in Minneapolis. Is it just the Midwest or what gives? Does everybody else have odd party titles like we do or should I really be proud to live where you can run on the "Is Awesome" ticket?

I'm also curious about what word was "censored" from Bob Carney Jr's party title. My assumption is "asshole," but in politics I guess you really never can know for sure.

P.S. The name Lombard reminds me way too much of Office Space, and one phrase from that film in particular. Can anyone guess of which phrase I speak?

::: posted by dan at 8:06 PM :: [ link ] :: (7) comments

Sunday, November 01, 2009 :::

Final Destination: Death by Homeownership

My house tried to kill me today.

I'm not a handyman. Nor am I a good homeowner. I don't know what I'm doing, I have no idea how to work tools or fix faucets, and I'm awkward and clumsy to boot. Somehow I manage to keep the place together and just short of ramshackle, but it's a constant battle. Especially when it comes to the Fall yardwork.

Today was gutter cleaning day.

I've neglected this task for the last couple years, and the normally-charming-looking vines on the back of my house had taken over. I knew it would be ugly up there, but I could no longer push off the chore. I grabbed some thick rubber gloves, a pair of dull scissors for trimming away the unwanted foilage, and an ancient aluminum extension ladder that I inherited from my dad years ago.

The ladder is ginormous, and it has an old rope attached to one end that loops around it. I've never been able to ascertain the function of the rope but I've always figured that it must be there for a purpose so I've never dared to remove it. Trying to maneuver the unwieldly monster ladder while simultaneously trying to avoid getting caught up in the mystery rope is a considerably arduous task. I probably look like an Abbott and Costello movie most of the time.

As I positioned the metal bohemoth against the back of my one-and-a-half-story home, the height suddenly looked incredibly imposing. The ladder was perilously perched twenty feet above the ground against a sagging gutter and directly next to a power line. I made sure I had my cell phone in my pocket (just in case I survived whatever disaster was in store for me), I took a deep breath, and I began my ascent.

Climbing the ladder with a garbage bag in one hand and a pair of rusty scissors in the other didn't improve my confidence. The rubber gloves on each hand were most effective at masking the small amount dexterity I might have had left. I started to imagine a morbid death scenario like the ones that play out in those Final Destination movies. I wasn't sure if my death would be by falling, impaling, electrocution, or - knowing those movies - some ghastly combination of the three.

So I took my time and worked deliberately, my hands soaked in putrid mold-water, pulling out years worth of dead vines, rotting leaves, and a substance that was technically not poop but looked and smelled like it was at least related in some way. Halfway through the task, the rotting substance was smeared all over my face, soaked into my clothes, and splattered all over the ground below. The garbage bag filled up quickly and became almost too heavy to bear. The over-extended extension ladder wobbled beneath my feet. The gutter creaked underneath the weight of it all. The sun disappeared behind a cloud.

I heard my neighbor's door open and I looked over just in time to see a black cat scurry out, stop dead in its tracks, and stare directly at me. I thought, "That's funny, I never knew they had a black cat." But it must have sensed the impending doom because it quickly turned around and scurried back inside before the door ever had a chance to close. I took it as a sign and carefully started to climb back down the ladder, one step at a time.

It was at the second to last step when my right foot slipped on a glop of wayward non-poop, my left foot got caught in the mystery rope, and I started to fall backwards toward the ground. I was close enough to the bottom to know I wouldn't get seriously hurt, so my main concern became to avoid landing directly on the garbage bag of barfy compost. I tried to toss the bag to the side but it was too heavy, and the attempt threw off the balance of the ladder, sending it sliding down the gutter toward the power lines. I landed with a thud on my back, with my left leg still caught up in the ladder. The bag of mold and rot landed with a splat, speckling my face with a million droplets of oily sludge.

Miraculously, the sliding ladder was stopped in its sliding tracks by a vine before it could act as a conduit for my electrocution. But the jarring motion had knocked loose the scissors that I had mistakenly left on the top rung, and so they came flipping down the ladder, bouncing and sliding from rung to rung.

I instinctively covered my face and head with my arms until the clang of the falling scissors stopped, but I felt nothing pierce my gut or impale my neck so I slowly lowered my arms and opened my eyes, one at a time. I looked down at my chest, torso, and legs, but the scissors must have landed somewhere else. I turned to my left to see if that evil cat had returned to gloat, and this is what I saw, not two feet from my head:

I guess my cell phone came in handy after all, because I was able to snatch this picture of my very own Final Destination style near death experience. The gutters were far from clean, but let me tell you: gutter cleaning day was o.v.e.r.

Having survived that ordeal, I can declare officially that I will never again attempt to clean a gutter. It's just one more homeowner task of which I am simply incapable. And it confirms what I already knew: it's time to sell this death trap and move on.

So... anybody looking to buy a nice and affordable three bedroom house in South Minneapolis? Jukebox not included.

::: posted by dan at 3:32 PM :: [ link ] :: (6) comments

Saturday, October 31, 2009 :::

Happy Halloween!

It's not that I haven't been posting. It's that my hosting company wasn't letting me publish to my website. I hadn't had anything interesting to say lately, so it didn't bother me all that much, but I got it all sorted out today, and just in time to say Happy Halloween!

Unfortunately I'm old and tired and boring and I don't do that dress up stuff anymore. I did carve a pumpkin, though:

It was supposed to be a Goonies skull, although now that I look at it, it kinda looks like a cross between the skull in the Goonies logo, the skull on Chester Copperpot's key necklace, and the skull shaped cave that the Goonies escape into when being chased by the Fratelli's.

I think Chester Copperpot would be a good Halloween costume. I'm going to think of a way to pull that off one of these years.

::: posted by dan at 1:32 PM :: [ link ] :: (1) comments

Friday, October 30, 2009 :::

Animated Friday (Pets: A Two Parter Edition)!

Last week was all about cute pets. But sometimes cute isn't as entertaining as mean is. So here are some mean pets.

Kangaroos

Rams

Monkeys

Mean pets are mean. Why do they gotta be so mean?

::: posted by dan at 8:30 AM :: [ link ] :: (0) comments

Tuesday, October 27, 2009 :::

All Swine Flu-ed Out

Swing Flu is so last week. Stop giving me the death tolls, Local News. It didn't work with Bird Flu, and it ain't gonna work with Swine Flu neither. There are much more interesting ways that people are dying out there. Give me something brand new and even more horrible to be scared about already!

But for real, I have nothing interesting to post about and I thought that pic of poor little Piglet was sooper cute.

::: posted by dan at 8:55 PM :: [ link ] :: (1) comments

Friday, October 23, 2009 :::

Animated Friday (Pets: A Two Parter Edition)!

I have a friend who is getting ready to buy a new puppy. Puppies are cute. I like puppies. I like cute pets. Here are some cute pets:

Kitties

Puppies

Don't Know What the Eff This Is But It's Cute
(Apparently is something called a Loris? I dunno.)

To balance out the cute, next week's animated Friday will be all about not cute pets.

::: posted by dan at 12:26 PM :: [ link ] :: (0) comments

Wednesday, October 21, 2009 :::

C.S.I. B.S.!

I love shows like any of the bajillion incarnations of Law & Order or CSI because they require little attention or thought and if you miss ten in a row it won't make a lick of difference. But as anyone who has watched an episode of either of these shows with me can tell you, I can't stand how they misrepresent technology and computers. Cuz I'm a computer nerd. And computer nerds are fickle.

I especially hate it when they are doing things like searching databases for a fingerprint match and they show a computer screen flickering through a million different fingerprints looking for a visual match and scanning through all the possibilities. Why would the creator of that program even make a visual representation of the search? What possible benefit could there be to staring at a flickering screen as a hundred fingerprints flash by in the blink of an eye? You know how much work it would be to develop an interface like that? Why would they even bother? I'm positive that the majority of that kind of DNA/print-matching stuff happens behind the scenes, but I suppose that wouldn't make for dynamic television now, would it? But still, I make a point to annoy whoever is watching with me while I bitch about it.

The absolute worst is when they scan and zoom in on some small area of some low-res closed-circuit security tape and it's all crisp and clean and solves the case. There ain't a video enhancement program in the world that can pull that off. That's just not how digital video works. It drives me bonkers. So when somebody emailed me this the other day, I found solace in the fact that I wasn't the only one who could see through the lies:

I just wish I had thought of mocking it first, cuz I got better photoshopping skillz.

::: posted by dan at 5:40 PM :: [ link ] :: (6) comments