Perhaps it’s wishful thinking, but I can’t be the only one who misread “straying” as “staying”, can I?
Commenting on the news, Roy Disney said it’s all that Mr. Poopy-Pants Michael Eisner’s fault.
A judge in Chicago has given singing star R. Kelly permission to travel to Los Angeles to attend next month’s Grammy Awards — but he can’t associate with Michael Jackson.
“We can’t have you two within 100 feet of each other,” said Judge Vincent Gaughan in explanation of his Monday ruling. “Why, if your chocolate smooth, pre-teen predator moves somehow fused with Michael Jackson’s whimsically nutty Peter Pan act, we could have the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup of molestation on our hands, and that’s something no right-thinking American is in favor of.”
That reminds me of that time I gave the impending marriage
"sixteen months, tops".
Turns out I was off by a couple of months.
For my next feat of prognostication, I’ll give you the final score of the Super Bowl: Pats 33, Panthers 17. Put your money on New England–that’s as good as gold, people.
You should have a headset for your mobile phone. It’ll keep you from driving with one hand and screwing with the thing and crashing into another car at high speed because you were fiddling around with your phone and becoming “Blood On The Highway 2K4”, and I’d hate to see that happen to any of our readers.
I just bought a pretty cool over-the-ear headset from the ravenous vultures at Verizon for about $40, so it figures that now I hear about these guys, who will apparently send you the same thing for $3.94.
They’ve got headsets for tons of different manufacturers and models, so head over there and check them out. The life you save may be your own, or it may be mine too if I’m bumming a ride from you somewhere.
Streakers pull prank but lose getaway car…
Continue reading “HA HA”
Well, Jeff, I went ahead and did the upgrade to 2.65, so now it’s your turn to completely redesign jesush.
Allie got me a bunch of stuff off my wishlist for Christmas because she’s just so cool. One of the items is Looking For: The Very Best of David Hasselhoff, which I figured would be an interesting chronicle of the syndicated TV star’s reputedly enormous musical popularity in Germany and other parts of Europe.
Well, I forced Deb and myself to listen to most of it, and I gotta say: I’m still Looking For: The Very Best of David Hasselhoff, because please God, say this isn’t it. On our initial listen I heard all of one song (out of a beefy 18) that wouldn’t make me do a spit-take and think “what the hell are they thinking playing this?” if I heard it on a local radio station. And I’m not talking a good station here–this stuff is so sub-American pop (N*Sync-Backstreet Boys-Shakira-Hanson-Matchbox 20) that I frankly have a hard time believing anyone but Hasselhoff, his mom, and his agent would voluntarily listen to it.
Congratulations, David Hasselhoff–your music may sound like Corky from “Life Goes On” has gotten loose in the local Guitar Center, but you’ve reaffirmed my faith in the superiority of American culture.
…like the load he is. From the current Barnes and Noble Top 100 list:
This shiznit is way too funny!
Warning: Use the restroom prior to watching the video
I just wanted to point out that Webalizer reports that we’ve had over 47,000 visits last year.
I calculate that roughly 26,432 came from my accessing the site, and 20,527 visits came from Dave, which brings our total non-Dave/Jeff visits for 2003 to roughly 41 – a number that blows away our previous tally of 17 non-Dave/Jeff visits for 2002! Great job guys! This year, I know we’ll do even better – I’m gunning for us to break the 100 visits mark. It sounds crazy, but dreaming it is the first step to doing it!*
Continue reading “47,000 Visits Last Year”
Posting photos on this site is a pain in the ass. Something must be done…
Sorry for not having posted sooner, but I’ve been busy cleaning my apartment for the last six months. I’ve been generally busy with work and Christmas and Brent’s wedding and stuff (oh, by the way, Brent got married. To a girl…), so whenever I came home between my stints Out Doing Stuff, I could barely summon the energy to climb the heaping tower of rubble that is my apartment to go to sleep, much less actively clean stuff.
Then, this last week, I had something of an epiphany: that Phet and I have far too much shit. Ladies and gentlemen: everything must go.
Continue reading “Goodbye, Closet of Many Things”