Sarah Palin's Facebook Page (click to see full)

Lost in IM Translation

MrBojangles: Hollllaaaaaa!

xEyeHeartMarioLopez: why must you yell at me in Spanish?

xEyeHeartMarioLopez: you know I don’t habla the espanol

MrBojangles: holla not hola!

xEyeHeartMarioLopez: well stop holla-ing at me

xEyeHeartMarioLopez: you know I don’t espeak the jive

MrBojangles: man, you dumb

xEyeHeartMarioLopez: mute or mentally deficient?

MrBojangles: definitely the latter, but I’m wishing it was the former too

xEyeHeartMarioLopez: aw shite, my balls ache…male birth control was a bad idea

End scene.

Stoopid Ass Etymological Question of the Day

Why do they call the front passenger seat of a car "shotgun?" If anything, it should be called "semi-automatic" for the 9mm stashed in the glove compartment. But maybe that's just my 90's rap roots talking. As we all know shotguns aren't really the preferred firearm of choice in the urban environment. You can't exactly tuck a shotgun into your draws and call it 'concealed.' Therefore, "shotgun" has gotta be a term from Hicksville, Alabama (a real place I shit you not...I don't think I could literally shit you anyway; you're far to big to emerge from my anal cavity). And that's some crazy shit too 'cuz you can't even hide a shotgun in the front seat of a car and/or pickup truck. And tractor trailers don't even have passenger seats. They're like the unicycle of the farm vehicle world. But anyway, the shotgun, it's just out in the open in that passenger seat like "Hey, everybody, look at me and my shotgun driving around the farmer's market. We are badass people. Don't front on our giant tomatoes or we will shoot you in the red neck!"

In the 1920's I bet they called the front passenger seat "tommy gun." "I call tommy!" Joseph 'Babyface' Mulroney would exclaim as he and his fellow gangsters rushed to the getaway car. And in the 1020's it was probably called the "sword and scabbard," and it referred to the stool right next to the wooden-leg captain Robert the Scurvy Scourge of the Seven Seas. "No backseat sailing or else I'm turning this galleon right back around to Antigua! Argghhh!!"

And in prehistoric times they called it the "rock to the face." But instead of a passenger seat, it was the spot in front of two people walking behind you and one person walking to your left. That's how they traveled back then. I know this. I'm a certified historian/time traveler. You punkass, don't doubt me.

So anyway, do "shotgun weddings" have more to do with the front seat of a car or with the barrel of Elmer Fudd's gun? "Shhh, be vewy vewy qwuiet...I'm hunting for wifeys."



Also seems appropriate that McCain's choice of Palin is referred to as a "shotgun wedding." She's definitely riding shotgun, holding a shotgun, and aiming at anything with antlers, community organizing experience, or a press pass.

Sexual Responsibility Question of the Day

Should guys take some form of birth control? Ice out their balls and shoot blanks for the good of humanity? Drop an atomic bomb of infertility on the spermizens of Hiro-shemen and Nut-asaki (too soon?)? I personally would feel a lot better knowing that I took the pill rather than banking on the word of a female that may or may not be lying, that may or may not have a faulty memory of pill popping. As my boy Mookie says, "Chick could be lying duuude!" I also consulted a very reliable sex expert (read: addict) and personal friend (read: my mom) who states that birth control is not as effective when used alone anyway. So better to kill one bird with two pills, eh?

Absurd Question of the Day

Would you patronize a pastry shop called "Re:Tarts"?

Instant Message Thought of the Moment Continued

My neighbor Calamity makes another good point about the grammar of instant message laughter. The almighty 'laugh out loud' comes with its own superlative counterparts: lol, lmao, and lmfao. It's the internet's own version of good, better, best. Lol is the same-age cousin of the casual humor acknowledgement 'haha.' 'lmao' is saved for things that really are funny. And the 'lmfao' is the rarest of online chuckling, kind of like seeing a yeti, a unicorn, and a dodo bird have a manage et trios…in laughter form, of course.

And for the wannabe thuggette 16-year-old girls out there, add a 'z' to the 'lol' and you get the slang version of IM haha. So if lol, lmao, lmfao is like good, better, best, than 'lolz' pretty much means 'dope.'

And of course, none of this should be confused with LFO…cuz obviously anything involving white boys rap-singing about Abercrombie and fitch must mean it's BAD…and i don't mean bad meaning good, i mean bad meaning plain ol' bad.

The end.

The Evolution of Evil Transformers

Constructicons:



Insecticons:



Emoticons:
:)
=P
>:(
:*(

Instant Message Thought of the Moment

I just realized that a lot of common expressions used to connote laughter in the world of instant messaging completely change meaning when divided in half. For example, if you say ‘haha,’ it means you’re pleasantly amused and acknowledging the humor of the current conversation. But if you say ‘ha,’ you’ve suddenly become sarcastic and you’re pretty much saying ‘you fucking idiot…only thing funny bout u is your FACE!’ Fascinating!

But then, if you double the ‘haha’ and use ‘hahahaha,’ you’re genuinely laughing and saying to your IM recipient ‘holy shit, dawg, u just made me piss my pants worse than grandpa with a Big Gulp.’ Astonishing!

If you’re the more anime cutesy type, u probably use ‘hehe.’ ‘Hehe’ usually means ‘I close my eyes and cover my face with a fan while giggling.’ But cut that in half and instead you get the masculine subject pronoun ‘He.’ Suddenly it’s manly. Mind-boggling!

Now let’s say you’re a cartoon mouse or cuddly forest creature with big glassy, baby eyes and wireless internet access, you probably eek out a ‘teehee,’ meaning ‘this is what a squeaky giggle sounds like.’ But when divided, now you get ‘tee’ and the cuddly cartoon animal is swinging a golf club while bulldozers tear down the forest to make way for the other 17 holes. Intriguing!

But if you’re some sort of masked villain talking to a captured nemesis (via the internet), you probably use ‘mwahaha’ to display your sociopathic delight after you monologue (not to be confused with travelogue) about your diabolical scheme to take over the planet. However, split that in two and suddenly you went from mocking your captive, to kissing them. Clearly, villainy and affection go hand in hand. Enlightening!

Lastly, if you’re a mime with a modem, all you can type is :) Sever that head in two and you get punctuation. Doctorate-worthy!

[Side note: Do they call 'em colonels cuz they're big assholes?]

"God Hugging Us Closer"

from urbandictionary.com, your online source for the meaning of slang you pretend to understand:

flerg - the state of a man's penis when it is not erect

boner-shrinker - the mystical pixie dust secreted by the attractively challenged and/or by freezing cold water that results in male flaccidity

Sleepride the whip! Sleepride the whip!

I'm no dentist, but I've seen my fair share of oral cavities. "Where?" you might ask, "Where can I get in on this hot face-hole action?" Where else but the New York City subway, where all unwanted bodily contact happens. All the time. All at once. Oh yeah. Really, there's nothing quite like being caught on the underground railroad, in the middle of a hot, humid July, and your sweaty arm unintentionally but yet inevitably brushes up against somebody else’s sweaty arm, only to discover that the meeting of your salty discharge and their salty discharge results in the adhesion of your gross arms like a pair of soggy velcro straps. Fucking gross. But I digress.

It's gaping mouths that we're talking about today. "Gaping mouths?" you ask. You probably don't pay them much mind during your daily commute, but they're out there, just daring you to do something about it. And I for one never back down from a physical challenge (my friends call me 'Double Dare' …and occasionally ‘Mark Summers’). Whether it’s the morning rush hour on the 7 Express or the gotta-get-home-for-Deal or No Deal dash on the N, you are bound to run into this unwelcome display of teeth and tongue. There’s always that passenger whose head is nodding to the rhythm of the train’s lullaby, and as their eyes fall asleep, their mouth yawns open…and stays that way. The perpetual oh-face of slumber.

I wonder what makes them sleep with their mouth open like that. They must be dreaming about sucking the tete of Yokozuna. Or maybe they’re trapped in a chocolate factory with Grandpa Joe, trying to fly by burping out Fizzy Lifting Drink. Or maybe their tongue is so heavy that they can’t help but let their jaw drop. And you know what they say about big tongues…big tongue socks. (ok, I admit that makes no sense, but c’mon, your laffing thinking about a wool sock over your tongue)

Have you ever been on the train at 2:43AM on a Thursday night? It’s like Attack of the Somniac Sojourners on that thing. You step into the train car and all you see are these contorted figures, hunched over, drooping into their seats, back of their heads tilted backwards till they’re touching their backs, with their faces aimed towards the ceiling and lips parted so wide you’d think they were feeding off the fluorescent light. And the chorus of snores coupled with the rock of the ride will only pull you into their REM-sleep ranks. Before you know it, it’s too late, you’ve missed your stop and wake up in a train yard in the Bronx. That’s right you bourgie too-afrad-to-pass-96th-street NYC transplant, The Bronx!

And when it happens to you, you realize how embarrassing it is to sleepride. You wake up to a dozen gawking eyes that shift away quickly to avoid revealing that they examined the contents of your food orifice thoroughly. Not to mention your mouth is drier than the Patrick Ewing’s legs and tastes just as bad.

From this painful lesson, I’ve taken it upon myself to do two generous things out of the compassion of my compassionate heart: 1) write this longwinded blog entry to warn New Yorkers of the dangers of sleepriding, and 2) place two curiously strong Altoids and a Listerine breath strip on the tongue-pillows of the mouth-beds I see on every train in the city. Occasionally I’ll substitute the Altoids with a Skittle, so you can taste the rainbow…the rainbow in my heart. And no need to thank me. For me, it’s like having a portable game of Operation wherever I go.

So dear reader, take heed of Subway Rider Rule #482: Sleepriding on the train is the easiest way to get a mouthful of surprises, either from me or from Boxcar Eddy, you know, the one without the thing we like to call “pants.” His mantra is: If you see something, spray something.