Sunday, September 13, 2009

Conversation I Had With a Kid Today

I was delivering a pizza today when a five-year-old boy answered the door. This is what happened:

Kid: "How much is it?"

Me: "Um... it's sixty-nine fifty-two."

"Would that be sixty-nine dollars and fifty-two cents?"

"Yes it would be."

"I have one hundred and thirteen dollars."

"Wow. That's quite a bit of money."

"Yeah, I'm saving it up until I get two thousand dollars."

"What are you going to do when you have two thousand dollars?"

"Buy a bunch of stuff."

"You're gonna spend it all?"

"Yeah. Well, all of it except one hundred and thirteen dollars."

"Okay. So you're gonna leave off where you started."

"Yeah. My dad has nine hundred dollars in the bank."

Just then the boy's dad comes around the corner with the money for the pizza and looks at me like I'm a con artist.

Me, in a joking tone: "He's quite the informant."

Him, sounding suspicious/annoyed: "Yeah."

Me, sticking with the ironic tone: "He's been giving me all kinds of valuable information."

Him: "How much do I owe you?"

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Simulated YouTube Comment Thread

FriendMeEleven11 (18 minutes ago)
You're retarded WTD.

WhatTehDuece (25 minutes ago)

RandomestGrrl4Ever (32 minutes ago)
i don't get it what did he say after 'let me off this boat'

or maybe i'm just dumn or somthing........

FriendMeEleven11 (52 minutes ago)
You suck guys probably. Learn to spell, douche.

WhatTehDuece (1 hour ago)
ths sucks!! 1:05 lol watsup wit his face!!!!

FriendMeEleven11 (5 months ago)
I was totally already aware of this and just wanted the world to know that I know the backstory. Basically I'm on top of things when it comes to this subject matter.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Sad Tomato


The tomato is sad.

He has no pants.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Product Plugs for People Who Sleep Past Noon, 2

From the folks you brought you Texting ("one part conversation, plus a whole lotta 'hey, slow it down buddy' and a dash of 'who needs a dime?') comes Twitter! And online makes it FREE!

Got something to say but no one to say it to? Sounds like a job for Twitter. Twitter— because "why think when you can Tweet?" Twitter makes posts like this a complete waste of time!

Someday an Invention

self-correcting lenses

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Dear McDonald's

Please stop. It's not going to catch on.

Saturday, July 04, 2009

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

A Message to My Former Self, to be Sent a Week Ago

Self, I dearly hope that I have read this message as soon as you will have received it, exactly one week before I sent it at 3:41 p.m. on Tuesday, June 9. Trust me, that will have been making sense in due time.

In exactly 7 minutes until then, you will be brushing your teeth as I was, and will devise a plan to save time by replenishing the cat food with your free hand. Do not do this. Exactly 1 minute later I will cup water up to my mouth with my hands to rinse, and even though I will have anticipated the potential for disaster and will have preemptively rinsed off my cat-food soiled hand, the rinse water will still taste like Purina Pro Plan turkey and rice, which will not taste anything like turkey or rice.

Whether your knowledge will save me from this terrible fate or merely catalyze the formation of an alternate universe, you and I can never know, but I urge you not to make the same mistake I most certainly potentially have.

I will have been sending you this message a week before now because I will fear you have otherwise arbitrarily put off reading it for several days. If by some miracle you read this fully a week ago, I was on the verge of including this message as well: do not mention UFOs in your interview. You are not going to care how relevant it will have been. Do not mention UFOs.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Adulthood Survival Guide: Cuckoo for Frugality

What is Adulthood? Adulthood is buying Cocoa Crunchies instead of Cocoa Puffs. You save a dollar, and you still get chocolate milk for breakfast.

Responsibility In Perspective: Any child could tell you the proper technique for cultivating the best cocoa cereal chocolate milk: eat slowly and stir often. Many adults let their morning schedules become too crowded to invest the time and concentration that proper breakfast chocolate milk requires. Does that sound like you? If so, what can you do to change? Couldn't you iron that shirt before you go to bed? How much time do you waste making the bed every morning? Don't you just mess it up again every night? Is being to work exactly on time really all that important? What if you get all green lights... won't you be early?

Remember: you're an adult now; you are in control.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Pick of the Litter

The worst thing about my dog is that when her breath smells like poo, it probably is poo, and it isn't her poo, it's cat poo, and she eats cat poo.

Monday, May 04, 2009

How to Wake Up Stressed

Two nights ago I dreamt I had a baby. Not that I gave birth to a baby, but that I was in possession of a baby—presumably my own, though the dream didn't specify the origin of the baby, just that it was my responsibility. I'm not even sure if it was a boy or a girl, but since it was a baby, the pronoun it will suffice. So I'm wandering around with this baby, and we're in some sort of wooded area like a retreat campground—lots of tall evergreens, log cabins and dirt paths, and nobody else is around.

From the get-go I have no idea what to do with this baby. I don't know if it needs to eat, or what to even feed it, or if I should put it to bed, or what. And not only is the baby small enough to hold in one hand, but it keeps getting smaller, which is not something I thought babies did and only underscores the point that I am not fit to care for this baby.

So we're wandering, and we're wandering, and the next thing I know I'm walking into a log cabin, and inside it looks like some creepy tarot card/palm reader type place, with all manner of unnecessarily bedazzled cloths hanging at random points from the ceiling, eerie flickering candlelight, gratuitous creepy shadows, and a general shouldn't-be-here/shouldn't-bring-a-baby-here ambiance.

The next thing I know I'm sitting at a little round table across from an old woman (old hag, really) who looks tailor-made for the live-action role of the witch from Snow White. I'm in some sort of trance at this point and barely paying attention while she's whispering this and that incantation, making strange hand motions, and basically doing her witch thing. Suddenly I notice that I'm not holding the baby anymore. The witch has the baby, and she's packed it in rice, sort of like sushi. Not a bit of the baby is showing, just a vaguely baby-shaped ball of rice, and she's drawing eyes and a mouth over the baby's rice-packed head.

This, even I know, is no way to handle a baby, so I quickly snatch it away from the witch and get out of there. I run to my own cabin, put the baby in the bathroom sink, and start washing off the rice, hoping the baby hasn't been crushed or suffocated. Once the rice is washed away, I'm still not sure that the baby is all right until it begins to poop—a sure sign, in my dream, that the baby is in perfect health.

However, the baby is pooping an exorbitant amount (much more than would logically fit inside what is now an inch-tall baby [yeah I said it, logically]), so I turn up the faucet to wash away the mess, and to my horror the baby gets caught in the stream of water that's rushing down the drain. I fumble for the baby and manage to pin it against the side of the drain with one finger at the last possible moment. And now I'm completely freaking out, because I know that if I push too hard, the baby could be killed, but if I don't push hard enough, it will fall down the drain. I'm struggling to get ahold of one of the baby's arms and pull it out of the drain, but all the while the water keeps rushing down the drain and I can't get a good grip.

And then I woke up. Recurring dream, let's hope not.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

An American Favorite Since 1918

Printed on the wrapper of the Chase's Cherry Mash candy bar I just ate:

BEST IF
USED BY
9 1 5 9

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Product Plugs for People Who Sleep Past Noon, 1

Ready for that first trip to the bathroom? Yesterday's t-shirt will get you through the hall. That's right, t-shirts—because, "they're not on backwards if they're inside out."

Such a Good Pop Song Dot Com

Online t-shirt model
I think you're just my size
Online t-shirt model
Whoa, oh oh oh

Scrolling through a merch site
I wasn't looking for love
Then I saw your picture
Now you're all I think of

Online t-shirt model
Yeah you've captured my heart
Online t-shirt model
I wanna add you
(I wanna add you)
I wanna add you
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I wanna add you to my cart

Monday, April 13, 2009

Chocolat Noir

This is Part One of a Two-Part Series


This is a rabbit with a parachute. I own this rabbit.


This is the Foresthill Bridge. I live near this bridge.

This is cause for celebration.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Swoon

Today I heard a song called "Help I'm Alive" by Metric on the radio, but I didn't know it was "Help I'm Alive" by Metric, I only knew that it was a trip, it had a funky beat, and you could really bug out to it, if you will.

I thought maybe it was from the new Silversun Pickups album coming out next week. Metric and Silversun Pickups don't sound a lot alike, but Brian Aubert of Silversun Pickups sounds like a girl sometimes, almost as much as Emily Haines of Metric sounds like a girl all the time, so I'm not ashamed of my initial impression. Emily Haines, though... Oh man, Emily Haines. Dang. (She's really good at the vox.)

So, in review, or things to do:

April 14: purchase Fantasies by Metric and Swoon by Silversun Pickups, and get to bed early so you'll be bright eyed and such for Tax Day, which is all day Wednesday.

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

The Pizza Man is Here

"It's the pizza man."

...a child's voice, barely audible through the closed front door, 10 seconds after I knocked... I don't think the doorbell worked...

"Mom."

...silence... I'm waiting, counting again, backward from 20 so the seconds won't feel like minutes...

"Mom! The pizza man is here."

...17, 16, 15, 14... remember to smile...

"The pizza man. The pizza man is here."

...5, 4, 3, 2... the muffled voice of an adult, confused... the door cracks open and now a kid is looking up at me... he's no more than five years old... shy, but excited because...

The Pizza Man is here.

"Hey buddy," I say, smiling.

A woman appears behind him and opens the door further.

"We... didn't order a pizza," she says.

"What? Isn't this..." double checking the delivery tag... "5238? Oh, I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be at 5239." dangit. dangit. dangit.

"That's all right," she says. She laughs, probably relieved that it really was a mix up and not a visit from The Pizza Man Ripper.

"I'm so sorry about that. Have a great day."

Still smiling, I turn around and start walking away. That was awkward, but it could have been worse.

The kid starts bawling.

I keep walking. And I keep smiling.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Greetings from Pizza Camp

Despite organized protests from my friends in the "globe-o-sphere," there are reasons that I haven't written about my experiences as a pizza delivery driver, and most of them are related to the idea that a potential employer might read my blog and discover, not that I hate almost everyone I deliver pizza to (which is a perfectly rational feeling for a pizza delivery driver), but that I hate everyone on a public forum (which is generally bad for business). However, a pizza delivery event occurred yesterday that has forced me to reconsider. I will tell this story soon, and likely other pizza stories will follow now that the pizza gates have opened, but right now it's 4:30, and that means I have to trade my pajama pants for big boy pants and live the lie called "I like working here, and I like these pants."

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Late Night Musings from Earlier This Morning

Oh geez it's past 4.

I'm not gonna get any sleep. When do I have to get up? Not until 4 p.m., but... I'll probably wake up at noon anyway. Dangit. How much time does that give me?

Let's see... 9, 10, 11, 12... Only three hours?

Wait, where did I get 9 from? It's 4:45. That's 4, 5, 6... forget it.

YouTube Comment of the Year, Yeah it's Only February and I'm Calling it. And Yeah the Comment is a Year Old but I'm Still Calling it.

"Spokane is in WASHINGTON ho."

-PLASTICmoonFACEOFF

Thursday, January 15, 2009

May I Just Say, "Yub Yub?"

The Jedi have (has?) returned. Ewoks are dancing. We have succeeded. All four of us, except for Kevin, because Kevin fell asleep. Kevin claims he did not fall asleep, but we all know that he fall asleep for a little bit because he asked "wait, I distinctly remember Luke getting in a shuttle and leaving the Death Star, but, did they edit that out?" But they didn't edit that out, because all the rest of us saw it, because the rest of us were awake for that part.

"And it's only 10:30." - Garrett

Kevin maintains that he did not fall asleep. But he fell asleep. Even if he didn't fall asleep, right now it's really funny to see how angry he's getting at the idea that I would lie about such a thing on my blog. But he shouldn't be angry because he actually did fall asleep for a little bit.

My Brain is Tired and I Don't Want to Anymore

Warwick Davis played Wicket in this movie. Wicket is the little Ewok. The cuddly one with the spear. Davis was also Willow in Willow. Or maybe the baby was Willow in Willow. I think there was a baby in that movie, and Wicket had to protect it. I'm online right now so I could easily double check, but instead I'll just keep, you know, doing this.

I want to say something right now and I need you to listen, okay? I need you to listen.

Star Wars. Star Wars man. It's great but, it's a movie, you know? I mean, it's just a movie. Movies are great, but... Do you know what I'm saying? Are you listening to me? No, stop, look... look at me man. Star Wars, man. They just, they have all these people, these people and they got them all together and they paid them and they had costumes and a script and copies of the script and copies of the copies and they were using, probably highlighters and stuff on them and making them up, and you know? I mean... that's not life. You can't, can't highlight, what you're going to say and like, add stuff in in post-production. You don't get action figures. There aren't action figures of going to the bank or, you know, vacuuming or for when you mess up or have a good idea or whatever. You don't get to rerelease and have deals with Taco Bell. George Lucas isn't going to be like "yeah, yeah I like that, role with that, we'll do that" and it doesn't matter what "that" is. It could be anything. Your life, or people or building a... house or a sandwich. In life you can't be like, "okay hang on, I'm making this sandwich." That's, how can people... who do people, I mean what do they even, where are we even going?

And you can't fight it. You can't fight it. What are you going to do? There's all these lasers flying everywhere and everything is blowing up. And you're throwing rocks at them and they're all rolling around on trees. Where'd that get us? We're no better. We're no better than the enemy.

Yeah, the Ewoks are all excited because they blew up an AT-ST, but what about the people... what about the people in that. I mean, that could have been me. That could have been you. That could have been both of us.

Return of the Jedi, the Sarlacc Pit

I'm missing The Office.

The Twelfth Hour

We're about to watch Star Wars Episode VI: The Empire Strikes Back. We just took a break and had frozen yogurt. We're arguing about how big the second Death Star is. We just took a break and had frozen yogurt. Bret is commenting that the alarm in the Death Star landing bay sounds like a Dewback lizard being squeezed. We just took a break and had frozen yogurt. We just took a break and had frozen yogurt.

Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back, Hour 11

"No! that's not true. That's impossible! ... No... no..." - Luke Skywalker

Six hours ago we were laughing uproariously at one other's jokes. Now we're all a bit on edge and easily agitated, and C-3PO keeps pissing us off. Where once there was laughing, now we're just saying stuff like "what are you talking about?" and "I'm pretty sure we've established that everything hovers in this universe."

DIRECTV's Log Line for Star Wars Episode IV

"Robots and other allies help a youth and a space jokey rescue a rebel princess and battle dark forces bent on intergalactic rule."

"I would rent that." - Brea

For Those Interested in Further Reading

Funny thing... I was searching for good B-Wing photos on Google Images when I happened upon Action Figure of the Day. They post photos of and info about a classic Star Wars action figure every day, and they've been doing it since November 2007.

Hour Nine

Something walked into the apartment toward the end of Episode IV, something that bore remarkable resemblance to a human, only somehow different looking. What is that, Leia? I thought. Oh yeah, one of those.

Hour Eight: Delirium Sets In

Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, still.

We just finished laughing for five minutes about what it would have been like if Yoda were hiding inside R2-D2. It might have gone on longer if Garret hadn't pointed out that we'd laughed for five minutes about what it would have been like if Yoda were hiding inside R2-D2.

Question of the day: "Is it possible to feel accomplishment and shame at the same time?" - Kevin

Bret, on the Millennium Falcon Getting Caught in a Tractor Beam

"Too bad they don't have phase modulation. The Enterprise would never get caught in something like that."

Star Wars vs. Current Events

Watching Episode IV: A New Hope. Almost halfway done with my Fat Tire. If I pretend to be chewing it, rather than drinking it, it's less gross.

When Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith came out, I thought it was a commentary on the War on Terror. Who could hear Anakin's words to Obi Wan, "if you're not for me, then you're against me," and not think of President Bush when he said to the world... "if you're not for me, then you're against me," I think.

But watching all the movies in a row is giving me a new perspective. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... the greedy Galactic Trade Federation got itself entrenched in politics for economic gain. Then we have a few wars that seem to be going on with no clear causes or goals other than showing off how far special effects have come since Who Framed Roger Rabbit (read: military-industrial complex). Then we have Episode IV. Set some 16 years later, the ships are slower, the weapons are less effective, touch screen and hologram technologies have been predominantly replaced with simple flashing buttons and levers... the signs of a galaxy-wide recession are clear. Bravo, Lucas, bravo. If only we had listened.

Who Works on a Thursday?

Hour 5, Episode III: Darth Sidious is droning on about something to Anakin. Something about midichlorians.

I just found out that one of our number, who has been on his computer since 9, is actually clocked in at work right now. He's working remotely. At first I was upset.

Attack of the Clones

Today I am having my first beer. It's a Fat Tire, and I'm told it's good, but I think mine is actually some kind of antiseptic or disinfectant. My hope was that it would be enough to help me forget, or at least enjoy, Attack of the Clones. Turns out 5.2 percent is not enough.

"I always wanted the worst movie I ever worked on to be called 'Attack of the Clones.'" - probably some guy responsible for naming Attack of the Clones

"We decided to call it 'Attack of the Clones' because there are clones in it. Yeah, the 'attack' doesn't happen until the end of the third film, but... Shoot. Yeah I'm not sure what we were thinking." - probably some idiot

Kevin to Bret, After Bret Turned Off the Sound While I Showed Everyone a YouTube Video

K: "Did you pause it?"

B: "No."

K: "Good."

Bathroom Breaks, a Reflection from a Former Star Wars Fan Club Member

We have finished The Phantom Menace and are now watching The Clone Wars.

"So this is when you're invited back to the restaurant and everyone's starting to feel indigestion." - Garret

Fun fact brought to you by Yahoo! Answers: The average adult bladder can hold 500 ml. before "you absolutely have to pee like a racehorse."

When Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace came out in 1999, I was excited because Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace hadn't come out yet, and therefore I hadn't seen it yet, and therefore I was excited. I bought my ticket days in advance, left school early to wait in line and guarantee a good seat at the midnight showing, and gladly paid eight dollars for my 64-oz. commemorative cup. I finished my 64 ounces of Root Beer before the movie started, and I noticed that I needed to pee right about the time Jar Jar decided to do a triple flip into shallow water (right about the time I was getting worried about Jar Jar).

Fun fact brought to you by metric-conversions.org: Sixty-four fluid ounces is 1,892,705.92 milliliters.

I usually watch the credits after movies, but as soon as the closing music started I jumped over the railing behind the handicapped section, ran to the bathroom and peed for about 3 minutes.

The next day I saw the movie again (in a state of denial that lasted about a year), bought another commemorative cup, and did the exact same thing.

Today I look forward to bathroom breaks as a legitimate excuse to leave the room and shut the door.

"We Don't Have Time for This, Captain"

"Hey mom, did I tell you about my exciting Thursday plans?"

"No, do you have a job interview?"

"Nope, even better. I'm attending an all-day Star Wars marathon."

"What!? Drew! I raised you for more than Star Wars!"

A sampling of other reactions:

Jon: Cool, um... I'm at work so I've got to get going.

Johnny: Hey, Drew, this is Johnny, uh... I just want to let you know I am 100 percent in support of you and look forward to reading your blog and pinpointing the exact moment where you start to hate yourself. I'm guessing about halfway through movie three.

Lindsay: I think you need to rethink your definition of "exciting."

Bret and Kevin at 9:44, While Anakin is Hitting on Padme

B: "Does anyone want a beer?"

K: "It's 9:45."

B: "All right, if nobody else wants one..."

Episode I is Getting Worse

Anakin to Padme: "Are you an angel?"
Padme: "A-what?"
Garret to me: "Have you seen Jizzed in My Pants?"

Concerning Jar Jar, by Garret and Kevin

G: "They've been trying to redeem Jar Jar in the Clone Wars, but he's still Jar Jar. It's like you went to a restaurant, and after you ate, you had explosive diarrhea, and you were vomiting uncontrollably, like... you were vomiting more than you had eaten..."

K: "Like your stomach had traveled into the future and consumed food you hadn't even eaten yet."

G: "Exactly. And then the restaurant invited you back, and they were all, 'don't worry, the food is the same, but that won't happen again.'"

Episode I: The Phantom Menace

We're less than 10 minutes into the first film and I already want to leave.

We should be farther along by now but some of us were held up in traffic from all the people who go to work in the morning. Admittedly there's a lot of cool lightsabery in the first 10 minutes, but I still feel like I should have been taking notes for an economics quiz.

Monday, January 12, 2009

2009: It's Just a Number or, Mark Your New Calendars

Here we are almost more than 12 days into 2009 and someone thought it was plausible that I would have wanted to acknowledge that fact with a new blog post just after noon this afternoon. But the jokes on him/her (let's face it, probably him or her), because I haven't even thought about wanting to blog since more or less four, five, or three posts ago, present post excluded.

In light of that person's comment/impersonation on my final post of 2008, I think I/he/she owe(s) him/her/you/me an explanation. I'll go first. For the past two weeks I've been nerding out on Morrowind, the very game I ridiculed in two out of three of my last three posts. While writing a faux Christmas letter, I foolishly allowed myself to enter the mindset of a Morrowind addict without establishing an exit strategy or telling anyone what I was doing in case something went wrong. The result was a lot like in The Lost Weekend, only for twice as many weekends and without the drunken hallucinations or (go figure) the love story, and just with me playing Morrowind for nigh on a fortnight, completely sober but still running from my potential (so, yeah, that was a good example).

To celebrate the end of my weeks-long nerd binge, and to live up to my position on some of your bookmarks bars, I have decided to attend a Star Wars Eps. I-VI marathon this Thursday and blog about it as it is happening. (That "as it is happening" part is in italics within italics, which is why it doesn't appear to be italicized. To read that sentence properly, please get more excited as you go.)

That's right kids, I'm going to kick off my video gaming recovery with an irony-laden 12-hour Star Wars blogathon. This Thursday. Unless I have work. Get ready to giggle.