the week is over Archive

1 year! (link is to Trevor’s celebratory meditation)

Aside from Trevor’s celebratory meditation, we didn’t do much. Something about China. Another thing about how the Republican would-be candidates are all almost inconceivably awful.

Here’s a music video:

I missed this last week. SORRY.

So today after work (which I left early), I went to a wake, which felt weird because it was at the same funeral home as the one we used for my father last year. And it was weird, man. Like, I realized that I don’t know how to behave at a wake. I signed the guest book with, like, my signature. Is that what you’re supposed to do? Oh, and do you know what else I did? I did the sign of the cross, knelt down before a dead man I haven’t seen since I was eight years old, and I said Grace. In my head. That was my prayer. “Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord, Amen.” And then I thanked — I fucking thanked – the people grieving. I fucking thanked them. What the fuck did I thank them for? For their loved one dying? I have no idea, but it was a goddamn disaster, and if I ever thank someone for hosting a goddamn wake again, please shoot me in the face, for the love of God.

Here’s what else happened this week:

• We noted that back in the Depression, people wrote lots of letters. Again.
• We suggested that the owners of lady-parts might be better suited to making decisions about them than those who don’t have them. Crazy.
• We found phallic images on candy.
• We relentlessly mocked a cookbook for dogs.
• We plugged a friend of the blog.
• We owned $1500 worth of lube.

I haven’t gotten all the way through this yet. Lemme know if it’s good.

If you are rooting for the Giants this weekend, you are dead to me and I hate you.

• I have no idea how long this correspondence goes on. Perhaps forever.
• Bestiality in Connecticut. Figures.
• We were puppeteers before puppeteering was cool.
• Persona, music, and sexiness. Nuff said.
• Our political discourse is irredeemably fucked up.
• Found art. Times two.
• Debunking the Wall St. Journal’s “climate scientists.” Times two. Times three was last week.

That’s it. I love you, Tom Brady! Go get ‘em, champ!

(Seriously, don’t fuck this up.)

Ja, ja, ja. I had something else going on. Here. Highlights:

• We noted that climate change denialists are often in the pockets of Big Oil.
• We got our religion on.
• We were glad that Steve Jobs is dead.
• We decided that Star Trek isn’t the future.
• We made magnets.
• We went to the Playboy Mansion with Snoop Dogg.
• We live blogged the State of the Union address.
• We celebrated Roe Day.
• We collared the shocks.

Okay, happy weekend. I have to go work on my car now.

Sorry, I forgot last week’s. Or, actually, I dunno. Something happened and I didn’t do it. At any rate. My point is that I snoozed through my alarm all morning, my car battery’s dead, and I had to walk to work, which rendered me half an hour late. And despite the holiday, the week’s been kind of crazy. Ben, e.g., is working on a 40,000 word ode to Melancholia while he’s in Chicago. Trevor is torrenting every Weird Al Yankovich video he can before the gubmint takes down the Pirate Bay. As for me? I’m having a scotch. Because I’m cool as a cucumber.

Here is some shit that happened.

• We continued talking to dead people.
• We found a poorly written love letter.
• We suggested that Rush Limbaugh has a small penis.
• We had group sex.
• We singlehandedly defeated SOPA/PIPA.
• We hated on white people.

So yeah. Slow week. There was a holiday, an Internet-wide blackout, and we all had a lot of shit to get done. We’ll be back next week, kicking ass and taking names. Hell, if I have the stomach for it, I might even blog this weekend. I’m crazy like that.

And even though Etta James just died, here’s something a little different. Mostly because my old drummer was in a band with her while we were in a band together. And I like pretending I’ve touched greatness. Because, like most of us, I’ll never be great.

Edit: Replaced original video with one that has old drummer in it. For proof!

I gave the cute bartender an eight dollar tip on two beers not because she’s attractive, though she is, but because it’s Christmas, and I have nothing to lose.

We did things this week. Go find them in the archives yourselves.

Merry fucking Christmas.

Goddamnit, Ben. You were supposed to do this. I come home from a goddamn date and all I want is to unwind and have a scotch and watch cat videos on the internet. But, no. I have to tend to my shitty website. Fucking priorities, how do they work?

Here’s what you assholes missed (we love you, but we are grumpy and it’s 1:30 in the morning):

• We talked to Dr. Paul (audio is in the comments).
• We recommended a movie.
• We got into the Christmas spirit.
• We pimped our friend’s movie.
• We moved to a small town.
• We envied rich people’s pets.
• We encouraged you to… I dunno. Save Community? (This post kind of confused us.)

That’s it. Nothing more. Here, watch a video that AJ sent me.

(For the record, I could have gone to the above performance if I’d known anything at all about it, as it was a couple blocks down the road from my general store home in Portland at the time. As it is, I had a barbecue instead. Bygones.)

I’ve been filled with ennui the past couple of days — likely because I work in a basement and my exposure to natural sunlight this time of year is therefore very limited. I’ve petitioned my bosses to get me one of those UV lights that people with Seasonal Affective Disorder use, to no avail. Hell, they won’t even get me a French press. I am, literally, the 99%.

Here’s some shit you may or may not have missed:

• Mencken came back. And here I thought that Trevor had run out of material.
• Ben had sex with another website.
• Consider the beard.
• A Twilight-Tampon Friends mashup (at least, I think that’s what it is).
• Happy Pearl Harbor Day!
• I don’t know how long we’ll continue mocking David Brooks, but he will probably outlast us.
• Is signing a 32 year-old (who may not actually be 32) to a 10-year, $200 million contract really a wise move?
• David Foster Wallace, torture, and John McCain.
• Sting still deserves an underline. Madonna shouldn’t play the halftime show at the Superbowl, though.

Two songs for the price of one in this video. Sometimes you just need a little Fugazi at the end of a long week.