Monthly Archives: January 2009

I Would Like to Have My Mind Blown, Please


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Zombies! Turn Back Now!

What if you were driving to work and where you would normally expect to find traffic adversaries, you saw warnings of an impending zombie attack? Well, it happened in Austin this week. Hackers changed public safety messages on Monday to warn of “zombies ahead.” Some thought it was funny, others remind us that hacking construction signs is a criminal offense, no matter what the message.

What’s further interesting to me, is that the city of Austin seems to have a bit of an infatuation with the undead. The Alamo Drafthouse, a local chain of movie theatre restaurants, began an annual zombie film festival last year, and with it, initiated a Zombie March to the Capitol to demand equal rights for zombies. Granted, other cities have had these walks as well, but in Austin, it didn’t even seem that strange. And hey, thanks to the Zombie March, the people of  Austin know what to look for…

Get to work on that escape plan, Austinites. They’re coming.

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Will Unfriend for Food

Here’s an article from the NY Times about the almighty Facebook and “unfriending”:

Friends, Until I Delete You

Did anyone know about this Burger King promotion?

Apparently, deleting 10 Facebook friends scored you a free burger. What sort of bizarre marketing meeting went in that direction? Beefy rewards for potentially hurting a friend’s feelings? Does this mean to imply that Facebook friendships are expendable? Or were the BK execs all to privy to the fact that we all have Facebook friends we think about deleting? (Maybe they thought the Whopper’s flame-broiled juiciness was their only way out…) Either way, I guess free food does always have a way of tasting better…

Did anyone do this? Would you do this? I can’t help but be intrigued.

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Top 10 Utterly Ridiculous Photos of President Bush

I originally compiled this list about two years ago, but in the spirit of bidding President Bush adieu, I thought it could be fun to revisit. Shall we?


The aftermath of the infamous pretzel choking incident.


When even the babies called it a day.


Angry Bush.

Granted, freeze frames can be rough, but why did this face ever even happen?


The best classroom blunder since “You forgot the ‘e’.”


“Quick! Act busy, Mr. President!”


Corn is key.

I’m not even sure what exactly it is that gets me about this one, but what’s not to love about waving around garden vegetables?


No, honey, no.


That’s not the exit, tiger.


Thanksgiving mishap.


Dropping a puppy. On pavement. While in the company of a little league team.

Women and children are devastated.

So long, Mr. President. Please feel free to share any additional images. Perhaps one day I’ll tackle one for Cheney.

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My Life Would Suck Without You?

Oh no no, Kelly, our lives would suck without you!  Ahahaha! We all win, no? PS for a blip in time, the “suck” was replaced with “s*ck” on iTunes. Risky business there, Clarkson!

Here’s a sneak peak at the songstress’ new video.

Now, I realize that this is essentially an update of “Since You’ve Been Gone,” but come now, what wasn’t to love about that one? New album comes out March 10, just in case you not-so-secretly wanted to know.

Ohhh Kelly, you can do no wrong… except maybe for the awful album cover. And those terrible Ford commercials on American Idol. But other than that, you’re good, Kel, you’re so so good. Enjoy!

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You’re Not Alone

I’m not alone, he says. While I like the style of this video, I certainly can’t relate to having 120 DAYS of vacation time billed up. Really? I had to fight for my 4 days when I left my last job.  This guy apparently enjoyed his job so much that he just didn’t take days off… but he only worked there for 3 years. Who gets 40 days of vacation a year? No wonder why they were letting people go, how could they afford to keep paying so many people who weren’t working?

A Funny Thing Happened The Day After I Got Laid Off from Anthony Ferraro on Vimeo.

Way to go, Ferraro. I, on the other hand, am still waiting to find a way to put good ol’ Uncle Mastercard aside. If you’ve got a few bones to spare, feel free to send them my way, tiger. Then maybe I’ll believe that I’m not alone.

But ugh, when it comes down to the nitty gritty stay at home because you can’t afford to leave the house/start eating hotdogs because they’re cheap even though you don’t like them and they’re not good for you unemployment, well then, sadly, I know all too well that I’m not alone. Good luck with the cover letters, kids. That big bag of money will appear on the sidewalk one of these days.

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My “Green Guy”

I think my mom has secret worries about me getting married and having children. And when I say “secret” I mean obvious concerns, most notably when she tells me that she hopes to have grandchildren at an age where she “can still pick them up,” for example.

When I lived in Texas and had to fly back east for holidays, she’d always tease (or perhaps pray) that I’d meet a rich and charming “oil tycoon” aboard the plane who would just whisk me away. Apparently, I would be flying in a plane built by the Wright Brothers as well, but that’s besides the point. My mother has always hoped for a rich, handsome man in my future and probably fears that my feminist and liberal nature will keep me from locking down the type of catch she has in mind.

And so now, after a long-term failed relationship under my belt and no grandchildren bouncing upon her knee, my mother seems to be taking a new approach. This evening, she let me know that oil is out and green energy is in. As a result, she has launched her new “green man” campaign. “You know, one of those green men with the fields,” she says.  (It’s classic my mom to only have half of the idea formulated and to fill the rest of the sentence with phrases like “you know” and “that thing”.) No word yet on where or how I’ll find him, but no worries. “He’s out there,” she says. “Just you wait, you’ll see.”

Later on in the conversation, we somehow came upon the topic of ocean windmills. A surprising direction for a chat with my mom to go in considering that we started the hour detailing the ingredients in the clam chowder she and my grandmother made over the weekend (“I know you don’t like clam chowder, but it just wasn’t right the first time we had it. It needed more potatoes and carrots and stuff,” she says.)  When I asked a few logistical questions about this new technology (do they float? what’s the cost?), she responded matter-of-factly with, “Well I don’t know, but see–you can ask your green man about it! There’s a conversation starter for you!”

“Ya know what? You’re right, Ma,” I say. “You found a way to bring it back. Thanks.”

Oh sweet windmills, you are the key...

Oh sweet windmills, you are the key...

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