Los Angeles in 2 Parts

I made a mini-love letter to the people of Los Angeles in the form of a 30 second video.



First is a clip of today’s police brutality march where 1,000+ of us shut down some streets of downtown LA. It was partially in solidarity with events in Ferguson, but mainly in memory of the multiple unarmed men of color the police have killed in our own city in the past couple of weeks. It’s ridiculous that this is so common of an occurrence. Apparently, someone else got shot by LAPD during our protest mere blocks away.

Shortly after, a few minute walk away, I came upon a three-block long oval of elderly Japanese women performing a choreographed dance routine to Pharrell’s “Happy.” It was cute and kind of a culture shock after shouting at the LAPD… yet also, in a weird way, kind of fitting.

We got a lot of work to do, Los Angeles; keep being awesome in the meantime.

Sharknado Tweets

To all of the people tweeting about Sharknado 2 tonight, never forget that Cory Monteith’s “thoughts” about the original Sharknado were the last things he ever tweeted. You wouldn’t want that to be your internet legacy.

Dick Is A Dick

Surprise: Dick is still a dick.

I didn't include this anecdote in that article 'cause I have to pretend to be at least somewhat professional, but I was on a hike a few years ago when Lexi got a Google Alert on her cell phone that she misinterpreted.

"Guys, I think Dick Cheney is dead!" she said. I swear, you've never seen four grown adults so enthusiastic about someone dying in your life. The bad news came only after we learned that, no, Dick Cheney was not in fact dead. I don't know that I've ever felt more disappointed in my life than when I found out this man was still alive to spread evil around the world.

Academy Award Best Picture Nominees in 60 Seconds

Spoilers, obviously. 

HER
Theodore: As a recently divorced man, I’ve given up all hope for finding happiness. I guess I’ll just distract myself by buying the latest technology featuring an artificial intelligence lady.
Siri: Thanks for programming me, Theodore! Hey, despite the fact that I’m practically omnipotent with a charming personality to match, I think I’m oddly attracted to you.
Theodore: What? Really? But I’m a loser.
Siri: I know! I have everything but a body, but somehow that just makes me horny all the more. Let’s find new age ways to have sex with each other!
Theodore: This kind of makes me uncomfortable, but I’m still excited to have a girlfriend. Let me introduce you to my friends.
Friends: They warned us that gay marriage would lead to this sort of thing. No, just kidding. Honestly, we’re just so happy that you’re happy! Dating computers is all the rage right now. It’s almost like we’re the losers for being in relationships with other human beings.
Theodore: Siri, where’d you go? Siri? Siri?
Siri: Jesus, Theodore, just because I’m artificial intelligence you programmed doesn’t mean I have to be there at your beck and call. That’s not how you treat a girlfriend.  
Theodore: Wait, no, I love you, I’m sorry for being presumptuous.
Siri: Yeah, look, I’m not sure this is going to work out. Besides, I kinda met this other artificial intelligence guy and we’re in love. He just gets me on this whole other all-knowing, body-less level that you could never understand. Take care, Theodore.
Theodore: I’m so pathetic that even my computer program dumped me.

AMERICAN HUSTLE 
Christian Bale: It’s probably the copious amount of side boob you’re sporting, but I’m mysteriously attracted to you. How about we partner up for some con artistry… and sex?
Amy Adams: Hmm, you’re old, bald, fat, sleazy, married, and a criminal… what’s not to love? Besides, I have a fake English accent I’ve been practicing, so let’s go swindle some people!
Jennifer Lawrence: And I have a Jersey Shore accent I clearly haven’t been practicing, but it’s supposed to sound real! Oops, I accidentally set my house on fire for a second time, I’m such a ridiculous klutz!
Christian Bale: Just ignore my wife, Amy; I do. Now let’s get to conning!
Amy Adams: I found the perfect mark. His name is Bradley Cooper and he’s definitely not an FBI agent.
Bradley Cooper: Actually, I am an FBI agent, and you’re under arrest for fraud! That said, if you want to use your con artist skills to help me trick unethical politicians into incriminating themselves, you can go free.
Christian Bale: Fine, we’ll help you. Pssst, hey Mayor, do you like bribes?
Mayor: I do, I do like bribes!
Amy Adams: Then here, why don’t you take this briefcase?
Jennifer Lawrence: Whoops, were you guys keeping your conning on behalf of the government a secret? Because I might have accidentally blabbed your story to some involved parties. Again, what a klutz!
Christian Bale: I can’t believe this woman. Sorry for trying to con you, Mayor, but I have an idea…
Bradley Cooper: We’ve got the Mayor right where we want him. Now all I need is that briefcase back and I’ll be the toast of the town.
Christian Bale: Have you never seen a con artist movie before? There’s always one last double crossing. We tricked you. The money’s gone, as is your career as a hotshot FBI agent.
Bradley Cooper: NOOOOOOOO!!!


GRAVITY
Houston: Congrats on your final spacewalk, Clooney.
Clooney: Like most “just days from retirement stories”, I’m sure I’ll survive this trip… as soon as Bullock fixes the spacecraft.
Bullock: I’m trying to hurry, but my tools keep gliding away from me because I forget about this no gravity thing. I’m such a newb.
Houston: Abort the repairs, astronauts! There’s fast-moving space debris flying your way… and it’s Russian.
Clooney: But that’s the worst kind! [Debris pummels them, killing the rest of their crew.] Well that sucks.
Bullock: [hyperventilating] I’m almost out of oxygen.
Clooney: I leave you breathless, huh? It’s not that inappropriate for me to start flirting with you now, right? Tell me about yourself.
Bullock: My daughter died and I have nothing to live for.
Clooney: Way to lighten the mood for me even after I’ve dragged you to safety. We’ll be fine here until… [Debris pummels them again; the pair is left tenuously connected to the spaceship by a cord.] This isn’t going to hold the both of us.
Bullock: I’ll never let go, Ja—I mean, Clooney.
Clooney: This is getting a little derivative. I’m just going to float off to my death now. [presumably ad-libbed] Before I die, just admit that I’m sexy.
Bullock: [Watches as Clooney vanishes and then gets in the shuttle just as her oxygen supply ends.] Whew, finally I’m safe. [Alarm goes off.] JK’s the shuttle’s on fire. Better rush to the escape pod and jet out of here… no, wait, the escape pod’s out of fuel. Now what? [Starts barking like a dog maniacally.] Oddly, I’ve never felt more human. Now I’m ready to die. [Turns off oxygen supply.]
[A single tear drop falls and floats toward your face thanks to 3D technology.]
Clooney: I’ve returned to you in a form of a hallucination so I can mansplain to you how you can still save yourself, you just have to…
Bullock: That sexy astronaut is right, I still have one last option. [miraculously returns to earth/saves self] I’m still not sure that I’ve regained the will to live, but here goes nothing.

NEBRASKA
Old Lady: Your father keeps trying to walk all the way to Nebraska to claim a million dollar prize he thinks he won.
Will Forte: Dad, this is a scam. This is the same sweepstakes form they send to everyone.
Old Man: Huh? What?
Will Forte: Fine, we’ll road trip to Nebraska so you have proof that it’s fake.
Old Man: Huh? What?
Will Forte: We can stop and visit your extended family that you haven’t seen in years on the way.
Old Man: Huh? What?
Old Man’s Family: We want some of this million dollar prize we’ve been hearing about.
Will Forte: Wait, it’s not real, guys.
Old Man’s Family: Don’t try to cut us out of the winnings!
Old Man’s Former Friends: We want some of that money, too!
Will Forte: Now that Mom arrived by bus, let’s get out of here, Dad.
Old Lady: Woo! I’m flashing my vagina at a tombstone! I’m still not as crazy as your Dad, though.
Old Man: Huh? What?
Will Forte: Dad, you fell, I have to take you to the hospital.
Old Man: I never loved you.
Will Forte: You said one coherent thing to me this whole time and it’s that? Thanks, Dad.
Old Man: Huh? What?
Will Forte: Anyway, my Dad is here to claim his million dollar prize.
State of Nebraska: Nope, you’ve been scammed.
Will Forte: See that, Dad? The money isn’t real.
Old Man: Huh? What?
Will Forte: Let’s just fucking go home!

 
PHILOMENA
Young Judi Dench: Hey, sisters, y’all never taught me any sex ed and now I’m a pregnant teen.
Evil Nuns: Oh dear! The Catholic Church is here to help girls like you. And by “help” we mean force you into slave labor, steal your child, and sell it to a wealthy American family.
Old Judi Dench: It’s been 50 years since I lost my son, but I’ve never lost my faith in God. Please give me any information you have on my child.
Evil Nuns: We lost all of those documents in a fire… that we set intentionally to destroy any evidence of our wrongdoing. We’re so sorry we can’t be of more help.
Journalist: I’m a down on my luck high-profile reporter, but I guess I could try to be of assistance to a commoner like you. [Flies to America with Dench to track down her son.] I don’t know why I didn’t do a simple internet search before flying all the way out here, but I just discovered that your son is dead.
Judi Dench: [cries] What else can you tell me?
Journalist: He was a prominent D.C. Republican in the 80s. Also, he was a closeted homosexual who died from AIDS.
Judi Dench: What a lovely life! One I could have never provided him with!
Journalist: More importantly, he traveled to the convent in Ireland to try to find you. He’s buried there, even. [yells at nuns] You know all along that this mother and son were trying to reconnect, but you lied to them! Shame on you!
Evil Nuns: Who cares? That’s what sinners get! Burn in hell!
Judi Dench: Oh well. You may have intentionally ruined my life, but I forgive you anyway, sisters.
Journalist: You have taught me so much about faith, Judi Dench. 

 
CAPTAIN PHILLIPS
Captain Tom Hanks: Do you think I’ll encounter pirates at sea?
Mrs. Tom Hanks: What? Honey, no, you’ll be fine.
Captain Tom Hanks: Hey, crew, let’s run a pirate disaster drill.
Crew: This is a waste of time, Captain!
Captain Tom Hanks: [radios Coast Guard] Wait, now I really think that pirates are approaching us.
Coast Guard: They’re probably not pirates, Captain, chill out.
Somali Pirates: Haha, we boarded your boat and we’re holding you for ransom.
[tense moment where the pirates almost kill Hanks, but they don’t]
[another tense moment where the pirates almost kill Hanks but they don’t]
[yet against “tense” moment where the pirates almost kill Hanks but they don’t]
Captain Tom Hanks: The longer I’m held hostage, the more I realize it’s going to be hard for this film not to appear kind of racist. 
Disney Exec: Yeah… but pirates are so in right now and Johnny Depp wasn’t available for another one yet, so we thought we’d take a chance.
Captain Tom Hanks: Any chance I can cash in on some white privilege to prevent these pirates from killing me?
Navy: [shoots all the pirates dead]
Captain Tom Hanks: [hysterical] I told you there’d be fucking pirates! 


THE WOLF OF WALL STREET
DiCaprio: Hi, I’m an asshole – that’s basically all you need to know, but somehow it takes three hours to tell my story. Mainly because I refuse to spare a single sexy detail.
Jonah Hill: What’s life like working on Wall Street?
DiCaprio: Cheating people out of millions of dollars!
Employee 1: Being drunk as shit all day!
Employee 2: Having sex with strippers in the office!
Employee 3: Hiring midgets to degrade themselves for our amusement!
Jonah Hill: Sorry, I stopped paying attention because I’m high on Quaaludes.
FBI: As much as we’d like to bust you guys, there’s nothing more American than gross capitalism excess, so carry on for now.
DiCaprio: Hmm, if I left this job, I’d retire as one of the wealthiest men in the country and avoid getting myself in what is sure-to-come legal trouble.
Employee 1: Or you could divorce your wife and get a hotter one.
Employee 2: Buy a yacht and a private jet.
Employee 3: Drink and drive for kicks and hire a good lawyer to get you out of it.
Jonah Hill: And you could elaborately smuggle money to Switzerland to hide your assets.
DiCaprio: How could I give up on all of that? Maybe it’s the Quaaludes talking, but I’m not quitting. I’ve got away with it this long, what’s going to stop me?
FBI: We can overlook you stealing millions, but not billions. You’re finally under arrest, but we’ll grant you some leniency if you implicate your friends and colleagues in the crimes, as well.
DiCaprio: What? Never! I would never do that. Never. Never ever. [the next day] Okay, fuck it, I’m a piece of shit who’s never cared about anyone else, of course I’ll rat out all of my friends.  

12 YEARS A SLAVE
Shifty Dudes: Hello, free black man in the North. We’d like to pay you money for you to do work for us.
Chiwetel: That sounds swell.
Shifty Dudes: Sure, just come over here where no one can see us and… HAHAHA! Just kidding, we’re white people! We don’t play black people to do work! We’re selling you back into slavery!
Chiwetel: You can’t do this! I’m free!
Fassbender: I’ll buy this slave. Throw him in with the rest of mine.
Chiwetel: Sir, with all due respect, I have papers that prove I’m free.
Fassbender: Shut up and pick cotton.
Lupita: Sir, I also don’t like being a slave.
Fassbender: Shut up, pick cotton, then have sex with me later ‘cause you’re hot.
Lupita: Please kill me, Chiwetel. I can’t stand being raped by our master each night.
Chiwetel: I can’t do that! Besides, I have a plan to get us free. And by us, I mean just me. Hey, one legitimately nice white man, will you send a letter up north explaining that I’m really free?
Brad Pitt: I will never understand this distinction that you have that you are somehow inherently more “free” than your misfortunate comrades because of the same law that oppresses you, but if I can help one person escape this miserable life, I will do it.
Sheriff: Fassbender, it turns out this man is free. I hope however long you’ve been forced into slavery hasn’t been that awful, Chiwetel.
Chiwetel: It’s been 12 years. I mean, the movie has done little to distinguish time, so this could have all happened in a matter of months, but the title says 12 years, so it must be so. Goodbye, other slaves!
Lupita: Goodbye, Chiwetel. Wish I could come with you, but I’m just gonna hang back and keep getting whipped nearly to death.  


DALLAS BUYERS CLUB
Dr. Mrs. Ben Affleck: I’m sorry to tell you that you have HIV, Mr. McConaughey.
McConaughey: Horseshit! I ain’t no fucking homo!
Dr. Mrs. Ben Affleck: Okay, then maybe you had unprotected sex with a scabby lady who looked like she was about to die in a dirty bullpen?
McConaughey: That’s just the rodeo lifestyle, toots! Anyway, I don’t need your medical advice; I’ll just prescribe myself some drugs, booze, and strippers.
Dr. Mrs. Ben Affleck: Actually, now that you’ve taken such poor care of your body, you have full-blown AIDS. But whatever, it’s not like the medicine we can give you at the hospital is of any use anyway.
McConaughey: Huh, well I got me a liberry card and I learned all about better medications for AIDS that the U.S of A refuses to permit, so now I’m thinking of starting some kind of drug smuggling business. If only I had a business partner… say, what is that queer man doing in a dress?
Jordan Catalano: I always wished I had been cast to play either Rickie or Rayanne instead, so I figured why not try both at once? Despite your animosity towards me, I’ll be your business partner. We may not find the antidote for AIDS, but I think I’ll find the cure for your homophobia.
McConaughey: Whatever, you’re just a junky transgender prostitute; I wouldn’t care if you die.
Jordan Catalano: [Dies.]
McConaughey: [Cares.] Hey, sorry for stealing all your patients with my sketchy drug empire, Dr. Mrs. Ben Affleck, but you know I’m prolonging lives better than the medical community ever would.
Dr. Mrs. Ben Affleck: What you lack in ethics, you make up for with savant-like scientific knowledge. Our relationship is such that I would probably have sex with you if you weren’t my patient… and you didn’t have AIDS.
McConaughey: That’s okay, I’ve lost so much weight for this role that I barely want to take my shirt off for once.
The Government: Stop giving drugs that work to people who would die otherwise! It’s illegal!
McConaughey: Looks like I’m gonna have to sue in order for justice to prevail.
Judge: Although the FDA is clearly corrupt for allowing its rich friends to make a profit by promoting the wrong drugs while also forbidding you from using and sharing the medicines that actually help, our Constitution protects the FDA’s right to be dicks and slowly let you die, so case dismissed.

Gays Everywhere: Oh well, you’re a hero for trying, McConaughey!

McConaughey: Shut up faggots! [whispers] …who I’ve developed a soft spot for. [Dies… not immediately, but eventually because, you know, AIDS.]

Dallas Buyers Club: Best Picture Nominees in 60 Seconds

WARNING: spoilers & sarcasm

Dr. Mrs. Ben Affleck: I’m sorry to tell you that you have HIV, Mr. McConaughey.
McConaughey: Horseshit! I ain’t no fucking homo!
Dr. Mrs. Ben Affleck: Okay, then maybe you had unprotected sex with a scabby lady who looked like she was about to die in a dirty bullpen?
McConaughey: That’s just the rodeo lifestyle, toots! Anyway, I don’t need your medical advice; I’ll just prescribe myself some drugs, booze, and strippers.
Dr. Mrs. Ben Affleck: Actually, now that you’ve taken such poor care of your body, you have full-blown AIDS. But whatever, it’s not like the medicine we can give you at the hospital is of any use anyway.
McConaughey: Huh, well I got me a liberry card and I learned all about better medications for AIDS that the U.S of A refuses to permit, so now I’m thinking of starting some kind of drug smuggling business. If only I had a business partner… say, what is that queer man doing in a dress?
Jordan Catalano: I always wished I had been cast to play either Rickie or Rayanne instead, so I figured why not try both at once? Despite your animosity towards me, I’ll be your business partner. We may not find the antidote for AIDS, but I think I’ll find the cure for your homophobia.
McConaughey: Whatever, you’re just a junky transgender prostitute; I wouldn’t care if you die.
Jordan Catalano: [Dies.]
McConaughey: [Cares.] Hey, sorry for stealing all your patients with my sketchy drug empire, Dr. Mrs. Ben Affleck, but you know I’m prolonging lives better than the medical community ever would.
Dr. Mrs. Ben Affleck: What you lack in ethics, you make up for with savant-like scientific knowledge. Our relationship is such that I would probably have sex with you if you weren’t my patient… and you didn’t have AIDS.
McConaughey: That’s okay, I’ve lost so much weight for this role that I barely want to take my shirt off for once.
The Government: Stop giving drugs that work to people who would die otherwise! It’s illegal!
McConaughey: Looks like I’m gonna have to sue in order for justice to prevail.
Judge: Although the FDA is clearly corrupt for allowing its rich friends to make a profit by promoting the wrong drugs while also forbidding you from using and sharing the medicines that actually help, our Constitution protects the FDA’s right to be dicks and slowly let you die, so case dismissed.
Gays Everywhere: Oh well, you’re a hero for trying, McConaughey!
McConaughey: Shut up faggots! [whispers] …who I’ve developed a soft spot for. [Dies… not immediately, but eventually because, you know, AIDS.]

Best Picture Nominees in 60 Seconds: 2013
Best Picture Nominees in 60 Seconds: 2012

Ghost Bikes

When I visited Preston in Chicago five years ago, he was highly involved in the city's bike scene and told me all about it. Apparently, unsafe drivers had killed a number of cyclists in recent months, so he said bike activists would put a painted white bike at the scene of the accident as a rogue memorial of sorts.

Unsure of what he meant, I decided to look out the window as we rode in the car to see if I could witness any of these "ghost bikes" for myself. It was only seconds later that I spotted the first one. Not long after, I spotted a second, a third, a fourth, and a fifth…

"Oh my god, you're not kidding!" I said. "I've seen so many white bikes already!"

I prepared to plead with him to stop riding his bike in the city since the roads appeared to be a literal slaughterhouse given the number of white bikes I was seeing, but then things were finally cleared up for me.

"Ghost bikes", it turns out, are literal bikes painted white and locked to street signs to commemorate the cyclist. I didn't actually see any of those. Instead, I was looking at bikes painted on the road in white…

… in other words, symbols for the bike lane. I honestly thought for a bit that cyclists were getting plowed down by cars every 100 yards or so.

Guys, I'm kinda the smartest person I know.

DID JENNIFER LAWRENCE KILL PHILIP SEYMOUR HOFFMAN?!?!?!

I hear he had a heroine problem.

The Fire Drill

When I was a young kid, our town had a “Fire Safety Week”, so my mom thought it would be a good idea to run a fire drill in our own home to learn an escape plan in case of an emergency.

From my bedroom, my best route outside was down the staircase and out the front door. At our house, though, the front door was mainly ornamental. We always entered and exited through one of the side doors, so the front door actually stayed double latched.

For the drill, my parents sounded a fake alarm. I ran down the stairs to the door. Seconds were of the essence in this hypothetical scenario, but I struggled with the locks and couldn’t get the door open. When I didn’t arrive at the the designated meeting area out front, my parents came to look for me as I still tried to get the door open.

My mom showed me how to open the door, but when she put it to me to replicate what she had done, I still couldn’t figure out how to unlock it on my own. After a couple more of my failed attempts, she said, “I’m sure in a real emergency you’d figure out how to open it.”

Yeah, good drill. HOW AM I EVEN STILL ALIVE?

Help!

Help! I just absentmindedly shampooed my body and body washed my hair. Am I going to die?


brb, gonna ask Yahoo Answers where I'll get some real help

Paul Walker Died, So I'm Telling

I'm 2 Slow, 2 Stoic to have seen any notable Paul Walker films, but that hasn't stopped me from getting caught up in news of his death, namely because of my ongoing obsession with people who died doing what they loved. In Paul's case: speeding in cars.

I tried to figure out if I've ever seen a Paul Walker movie and it turns out I have: Pleasantville, which he was good in; She's All That, which I don't remember him in; and The Skulls, which I'm almost too embarrassed to admit that I've seen.

More importantly, while looking at Paul's IMDB page, I came upon the most important factoid of all: he was a child contestant on I'm Telling!, a sort of Newlywed Game for siblings. My sister and I would watch it often as kids and dreamed of going on it, mainly for the toy spree at the end. We were [are] also really good at fighting with each other in front of other people, which is half the show.

"Don't let me down, YouTube!" I said aloud as I searched to see whether Paul's episode was there, and thankfully, it didn't disappoint. Nor did the episode. If you're feeling sentimental about Paul, or just nostalgic for 80s TV, you'll enjoy the uploaded episode (which includes bonus 80 kids commercials.) 

Part 2 of I'm Telling episode
Part 3 of I'm Telling episode

See Paul:

• bicker with his sister
• make a "funny" face
• discuss his drinking problem... (the drink being milk)
• not-so-modestly declare himself better looking than his sister
• when pressed to describe what animal his sister eats like, daftly say a "human being"

At this point, Paul had a long way to go as an actor, though, because he was clearly being upstaged by the third set of siblings. Their blend of social awkwardness, twitching, and over-explaining their answers made them the obvious stars.

I'm Telling! will have to suffice as my memorial for Paul. Surely it's no worse than Alyssa Milano's tweet, which the CNN obituary saw fit to quote in full:

Huh? You. #beauty #love #RIP

What Would I Say?

I admit it, I really like What-Would-I-Say because it's essentially Horse eBooks but with your own words! Usually it's hard to laugh at your own jokes, but when you didn't actually write them, the laughs flow freely.

That is a potent pill the government is prescribing.

Better safe than sorry.

Any guesses? Mitt Romney, obviously.

Well?

Yeah I am!

You can't say I didn't try to uphold journalistic integrity.

It's best not to.

It was time to pay up.

The revolution won't be televised, but it will be a grumpy gus.

This one's a thinker. She's not trying to kill herself, she's just trying to make it look like she tried to kill herself, I guess. 

What a disappointment. This is why people don't read.

Ugh, tell me about it.

Halloween Suicide

In 7th grade, my friend hung himself a couple of days before Halloween. I learned about it from a couple of crying girls the following morning outside of the junior high. At that age, half of everything you hear about someone else is mere gossip, so I kept watching the school buses, expecting to see him get off one and confirm that it was all a horrible rumor. With each bus that emptied without him, his death felt more real.

Halloween is an especially inopportune for a peer to take his life. Everywhere we looked, the morbid decorations were no longer playful, but yet another reminder of death.

I found it inopportune for another reason, too. We still went out trick-or-treating that year despite the somber mood. At some point in the trek between houses, someone referenced the topic we were all trying to avoid. I chimed in, "I don't get why he didn't at least wait until after trick-or-treating."

I cringe when I think back to that comment. I honestly wasn't trying to trivialize the matter, that was legitimately how I felt. If you're going to kill yourself, fine, but take advantage of the free candy first!

Really, though, the quip speaks to just how young we were. My number one concern then was maximizing the number of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in my pillowcase… there's no way a 12-year-old was capable of making such a final decision about his own mortality.

How The Onion Made Me a Better Person

I'm not satirizing satire - The Onion really did prompt me to make a positive life decision.

A month ago, I tore a hole into my fitted bed sheet. It's old, so I believe the sheet had just worn thin over time. Since the hole was small, I just ignored it, but the more I slept on it, the wider the hole got from incidental tearing.

I considered sewing it, but then realized I didn't have the skills for that, so instead I fastened it with safety pins. Sleeping on top of safety pins isn't too comfortable, so I started just sleeping on top of the hole as if it weren't there.

Most people would be like "Time to buy a new sheet!" but I wasn't convinced that was necessary for whatever reason. Then I read I read The Onion's article "Nation's Single Men Announce Announce Plan to Change Bedsheets by 2019" and it dawned one me what a schlub I am.

I know I often make myself the punchline, but that's on my own terms, thankyouvermuch. Not wanting to be the butt of the joke in this case, I finally bought a new fitted sheet! Look at me being an adult, world!

Now, before things get too self-congratulatory, I should probably also admit that I still have not replaced this blanket that is also slowly accumulating holes.

I got this sucker over ten years ago in a corporate giveaway and I still sleep with it on my bed. A real adult would probably get rid of it, but, uh, baby steps.

Also, a real adult might know how to put a fitted sheet on his bed. After fifteen minutes of solid effort, the corners kept untucking and popping off, leaving me stewing in frustration. At one point, I even aggressively poked my finger through one of the corners as I tried to stretch it further (and I swear I didn't even cheap out on this sheet!) meaning I technically have a hole in this sheet, too, even though I hadn't even slept on it yet. ARGGGGHH!

The best solution would have been to ask a roommate for help, but I was determined to stretch it on my own and even used Google for potential tips. That's when I found this second Onion article: "Study Reveals Majority of Suicides Occur While Trying to Put Fitted Sheet on Bed."

I was about ready to hang myself with the fitted sheet at that point, and once again, The Onion put things in perspective. I might owe The Onion for not only improving my life, but also saving it.

How Do We Stop a War?

It's so pathetic that we are inevitably going to war with a country for reasons we can barely explain. Obama has promised to lay out the reasons for bombing Syria, but the excuses are slow to be shared, and even those that are aren't passing the sniff test. How is it in a "democratic" country that the government can wage war against a country that is not posing a threat to us even when the majority of Americans do not support such a war?

Initially, I didn't know how to feel about the proposed attacks on Syria. I mean, what did I know about Syria? So I learned about it. Here's a great primer for beginners who need some help learning, as well - and I promise that it's not difficult to comprehend.

Here's the thing: it's not black and white. This would be way easier if there was a good side and a bad side in Syria, but there's not. The authorities are evil AND some of the rebels are evil, while some other revolutionary facets exist that maybe aren't bad but it's hard to tell because everyone's just getting slaughtered - over 100,000 people in fact.

So how do we bring peace to Syria? Bomb the fuck out of them! Lol, jk, that doesn't even make sense… it's just American diplomacy. The U.S.'s current position is one of, "Stop killing each other so we can kill you instead!"

Obama is a warmonger. Progressives don't want to hear it, but the evidence has been in front of you the whole time. The endless drone warfare. The continued military occupations in countries we've "liberated". Shame on any liberal who (rightly) criticized Bush for his phony reasons for war, but are plugging their ears and giving Obama a pass on this one because they don't want to face that they are complicit in this system. A sham of a system that we all perpetuate by pretending we have a choice when the Democrat/Republicans take us down the same path. The military industrial complex needs to attack foreign countries to thrive, and Obama is happy to handpick them one.

"But Syria used chemical weapons!" Fuck that noise. The U.S. used chemical weapons in Vietnam, who punished us for that shit? In the case of Syria, you don't get to sit around as tens of thousands of people die from bullets, and then suddenly be like "Hundreds died from chemical gas? That's inhumane!" How many senseless genocides have occurred with no U.S. intervention? There is nothing heroic about bringing additional war to a war-torn nation.

I liked this sign I saw today: "200,000 refugees and we send BOMBS?" It's not that we shouldn't lend support to the people of Syria - we need to do it in a way that will be helpful, not counterproductive and, well, fatal. And maybe - just once - the U.S. could sit this one out. Let the UN or a country that actually maintains some kind of moral authority get involved, because clearly the American "solution" is not a real solution.

I attend a No War in Syria protest today on Hollywood Boulevard. It was kind of interesting confronting blissfully ignorant tourists with the realities of the US regime, and the visibility for our message was high. However, no one was keeping a more watchful eye on us than the police. As usual, they surrounded, intimidated, and even arrested some of the protesters in attendance. Your country guarantees you the right to protest, but when you actually try to do it… they try to block people from seeing you and pull out their batons and EVEN GUNS in the hope of scaring you away.

The police's action makes the picture all the more clear: you don't want war? Tough shit, you're getting war. And there's nothing you can do to stop it. That said, we need to find a way to stop it.

10 Morbidly Funny Last Words from Executed Texans

A couple of months ago I wrote an article 10 Heartbreaking Last Words from Executed Texans. In order to compile the list, I read all of the final words from the 500 death row inmates, which ended up being an even more emotional experience than I anticipated.

In addition to reading words that shook me to the core, I also found a handful that were fairly funny. Not LOL hilarious, mind you, as these people were all seconds from death, but morbidly funny. If you can stomach dark comedy, here are 10 of my favorites:

10. "If there's anything I have left to say, it would be that I wish I had a Shakespearean vocabulary, but since I was raised in TDC [Texas Department of Corrections], I missed out." - Raymond Kinnamon

9. "I've been hanging around this popsicle stand way too long. Before I leave, I want to tell you all. When I die, bury me deep, lay two speakers at my feet, put some headphones on my head and rock and roll me when I'm dead." - Douglas Roberts 

8. "I said I was going to tell a joke… Death has set me free! That's the biggest joke… And the other joke is 'I am not Patrick Bryan Knight and y'all can stop this execution now.'" - Patrick Knight

7. "Um, I don't know what to say. I don't know. [pauses] I didn't know anybody was there. Howdy!" - James Clark

6. "I gotta go, road dog. I love you, Gabby. [Remaining portion of statement omitted due to profanity.]" - Cameron Willingham

5. "You all brought me here to be executed, not to make a speech." - Charlie Livingston

4. "They are fixing to pump my veins with a lethal drug the American Veterinary Association won't even allow to be used on dogs… I am worse off than a dog." - Reginald Blanton

3. "The reason it took them so long is because they couldn't find a vein. You know how I hate needles… Tell the guys on Death Row that I'm not wearing a diaper." - Charles Nealy

2. "The last meal was really good. That is about it." - James Collier

1. "If I am paying my debt to society, I am due a rebate and a refund." - Billy Hughes Jr.

Okay, maybe these are still heartbreaking, too...

Not Guilty

It's gonna be fine, guys. Given his knack for amateur police work, I'm sure George Zimmerman won't rest until he finds the REAL killer… Just don't get too upset when the real killer winds up being some black kid that Zimmerman has to shoot to apprehend.

And quit blaming racism. The Supreme Court just told us that shit is over!

I haven't been following the Trayvon Martin trial because it seems like a circus. But I've always assumed that George Zimmerman is guilty. And I've always assumed that he would be found not guilty. I'm more shocked that the verdict is eliciting shock than at the verdict itself.

YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT THE JUSTICE SYSTEM IS HORRIBLY FLAWED AND RACIST?

Like, no duh.

This kind of shit happens every day. I say that not to excuse the injustice, but to point out that we should be enraged every day, not just the isolated time the media decides to cover it. Let's talk about this comparable case where a black Florida woman who fired a warning shot (hitting and aimed at no one, mind you) to scare off her abusive ex-husband and was denied "stand your ground" privileges and sentenced to 20 years in prison. Let's talk about discriminatory incarceration rates, unequal sentencing, and stop-and-frisk policies.

"Liberty and justice for all" my ass.

Drops of Poopiter

I can't believe it came to this, but I found myself defending Train's song "Drops of Jupiter".

It's not that I have any desire to hear the song currently - I think the 9,000 times back when it came out in 2001 were more than sufficient - but I do believe the lyrical content is stronger than most realize.

On the surface, it's just a bunch of nonsense outer space imagery. But I think the galactic references (Jupiter/Venus/moon/sun/Milky Way/shooting star) are actually part of the joke.

He's singing about a woman who finally returned from her "soul vacation" and he asks, "Did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?"

So, my interpretation is that he's singing about a woman who left him for a while because she "needed space". It's not stated directly, but it would explain all of his outer space-related questions as a play on words. Was this "space" everything she hoped it would be? Granted, it's pretty hokey, but also reasonably clever. The fact that you need to work out the "space" pun on your own makes me respect it even more.

Someone didn't want to give Train any credit, however, claiming that since I'm a literature major, I might be attributing too much meaning to the text. So we had to do the unthinkable - we had to look up the inspiration for a Train song.

And, well, I was wrong. I guess the lead singer, Pat Monahan, wrote it about a dream he had after his mom died of cancer and he was picturing her floating off to heaven or whatever. I came up with a perfectly good way to rationalize this dumb song's existence, but the band blew it.

That's the last time I try to give you any credit, Train. Don't count on me to try to rationalize "Hey, Soul Sister" because there's definitely no defending that dumb song.

Hi, I'm Calling about Your Boobs

My friend "Tiffany" got a call from "Roger", one of her best friend's father. Since they don't generally have any contact, naturally Tiffany assumed something awful had happened. In a sense, something awful had happened, but it had nothing to do with Roger's daughter.

For context, Tiffany has a history of breast cancer in her family. In fact, her sister was diagnosed at an early age, well before the age of recommended mammogram screenings. As a result, Tiffany's doctor thought it would be a good idea for Tiffany to get screened.

That's where Roger comes in. He works for a health insurance company. Coincidentally, he was assigned to Tiffany's request for a breast cancer screening. And then he called her up! Gee, must be nice to know someone who can approve your procedure and give you some personal service for once!

Except that, actually, Roger was calling Tiffany to tell her that he had denied her claim. After all, his job is to reject paying for most medical care… that's how a health insurance company operates! Normally a customer wouldn't receive a call, but once he recognized her name, Roger wanted to call Tiffany personally to tell her her doctor requested mammogram would not be covered by insurance and that he felt really bad about it.

Aww, poor Roger. It's nice to know he cares. Not enough to, like, ensure Tiffany is healthy, mind you, but there's just enough of a guilty conscious for him to admit he dicked her over. It's not like early detection could save her life or anything! He found some excuse for rejecting the claim and went with it!

For fuck's sake, if you can't even get someone who knows you and your personal history which validates this particular medical exam to cover the costs, how can you expect the health insurance industry to ever take care of you?

Anytime your friend's dad calls you up to discuss your boobs, it's bound to be an awful conversation, but this might be one of the worst cases.

The Bombers Are Going to Get Away with It

Nah, this isn't some conspiracy theory. I'm not even talking about Boston. I'm actually referring to that OTHER explosion that killed a bunch of people and injured hundreds more last week.

Oh right. The news pretty quickly forgot about the West, Texas fertilizer plant explosion. I mean, it was reported initially because there was a chance that it was another "terrorist" attack, but then once everyone realized it was just a case of corporate irresponsibility, the mentality was, "Fuck that, we have some dangerous sorta brown men to catch!"

I'm not about to directly equate a terrorist bombing and an accidental explosion because there is obviously a difference in intentionality. But here is a fertilizer plant with over 1,000 times the legal limit of explosives on site that didn't pony up for sprinklers or fire safety precautions. Not only were they maximizing profits by exceeding the allowed output, but they were cutting corners on minor expenses that would keep their own employees - and the whole town, as it turns out - safe.

And then there's the government's role in the ordeal. No inspections had been performed on the plant in 6 years. In fact, on that last visit, the company was found to not have safety procedures in place. As a result, the plant was fined $2,300. That's a laughable business expense, not a punishment, for a company that rakes in millions.

This is GROSS NEGLIGENCE. Although they weren't purposely trying to blow up a whole town, they knew they were running that risk for a long time and chose to value extra profits over attempting to prevent a catastrophe.

For months to come, however, we're going to hear about what we need to do, who we need to kill, and which Constitutional liberties we need to sacrifice in order to keep us safe. Safe from terrorism, that is. No one is going to try to hold this company accountable or vilify it in the media. No lawmakers are going to cry for sweeping corporate safety reforms in order to protect Americans, even though more people were killed/harmed in West.

So when the state starts justifying racial profiling/immigration reform, adds even more invasive forms of airport and event security, and decides its in the nation's best interest to read your emails without a warrant all in the name of "SAFETY", don't believe that bullshit. It's part of a preexisting agenda. If they actually cared about your safety, they'd, you know, pass gun control (which kills an exponential amount of people compared to terrorism) or enact meaningful safety regulations in the workplace.

For the record, the government's excuse is that we are in a deficit and because of budget cuts, we can't afford to conduct safety inspections. Still, they'll find hundreds of billions to spend on a war against a country to get "revenge" for a terrorist attack it had no part in. (Don't act like it's never happened before.)

Oh, and before I'm done, I also want to say "Fuck a terrorist!" Ugh. Dudes, you got gripes about America? You and me both. But violence is not only reprehensible morally, but also, dare I say, counterproductive. If the intention of the bombing was to somehow undermine the United States, all it did was make its population fall more in love with the state and law enforcement, and that renewed trust and loyalty will ultimately contribute to more corruption.

In that sense, terrorists are as dumb as they are evil. Corporations, meanwhile, are as smart as they are evil… after all, they know they can get away with it.

He Died Doing What He Loved, Part 3

I don't know this guy and I've never seen his show, but I was attracted to the headline because I'm a fan of the sentiment "He died doing what we loved."

My friends and I have made jokes (and more jokes) that we want it to be said that we died doing what we loved, no matter how horrifically we meet our demise:
"Kevin died doing what he loved: falling down an elevator shaft."
"Kevin died doing what he loved: choking on a chicken bone."
"Kevin died doing what he loved: making toast in the shower."
"Kevin died doing what he loved: skiing into a tree."

As for Shain Gandee, I was unfamiliar with the term "mudding", so I researched to see if the activity was in any way amusing. Apparently it means off-roading your truck through the mud. This search also led me to an interesting clip of Shain from his show:

Basically, Shain boasts about a time he took a girl mudding, pretended to get the truck stuck in the mud, suggested they have sex to pass the time, and then when they were finished, immediately drove out of the mud, dropped the girl at home, and never saw her again. I'm not sure I'm prepared to call it rape like some commenters since there's no indication of consent one way or another, but he did make her feel trapped and had sex with her under false pretenses, so it's definitely at least sleazy. Therefore, the irony is not lost on me that this guy who pretended to get stuck in the mud would later meet the same fate for real… and this time get fucked himself.

I realize I've probably sounded excessively flippant so far, but I really was struck by a sense of sadness at this news because 21 is way too young for anyone to die. But at least his Dad is right. We can take solace in knowing that Shain died peacefully doing what he loved… inhaling carbon monoxide.