The Money Machine

All my life, I've dreamed of being in a money wind machine (do they have a proper name?). I'm not particularly greedy, but I've just always known in my heart I'd be exceptionally good at grabbing dollars as they blow around me in an enclosed booth.

Walking down an LA street last month, an opportunity presented itself to make my dream come true. Granted, it was a T Mobile promotional booth and not a real money machine, but sometimes you have to modify your expectations to make dreams a reality.

Sometimes, however, dreams are just that… it turns out, I'm rubbish at this game. My friends just stood outside the booth, laughing and mocking my pitiful effort to grab fake crumpled up money as it whirled around me.

In my defense, T Mobile implemented a whole lot of unnecessary rules that killed any kind of reasonable strategy to do well:

• I could only grab the money that blew above my waist (most of it remained toward the floor.)
• I could not bend my knees or reach down.
• I could not push money against the wall to collect it easier, or touch the wall at all for that matter.
• I could not stuff money in my shirt or anywhere else on my person.
• The only money that would count is what was in my hands.

That's not how they do it on TV! I filled all I could fit in my hands pretty quickly and then I was kind of stuck… I had plenty of time left but only so many crumpled papers can fit between your fingers. Considering these were just T Mobile bucks and not real dollars, you'd think they'd just let me have at it. Part of me wanted to ask them, "Look, I'm not actually going to try to cash in the bucks for a T Mobile accessory ASTERISK YOU MUST ENROLL IN A NEW T MOBILE CELLULAR PLAN TO QUALIFY, which is a pretty big caveat if you ask me, so can you just let me play like real people do since I'm just using this as practice in case I ever make it on a gameshow?"

Oh well. Let me bend my knees and shove money down my shirt though, and I'm going to take you for thousands of dollars. Mark my words!

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.

Transcribing Porn

My friend recently got hired for a new job off of Craigslist… she's transcribing porn. Gay male porn, it was later revealed. Evidently, hearing impaired homosexuals are actually interested in the two minutes of exposition before the main action.

I was once hired for a media transcription job, but quit after one day. The rate of pay did not make it worthwhile since I had to rewind it too often in order to catch every single word. It was too slow of a process. Plus, I didn't get to watch porn.

Don't take that to be perverted - transcribing porn is, as my friend herself has acknowledged, fairly easy. There's not a lot of dialogue, so it's not strenuous work and not the kind of thing you have to replay too often to catch the words. She doesn't have to type out the grunts and moans, either, which seems like a bonus. But exclamations like "oh yeah" and "fuck me" - that needs to be transcribed. Something tells me that she'll find herself increasingly attracted to the strong, silent types within a few weeks.

My favorite part of her job is the ethical dilemma she's already encountered. Some of the videos have clearly been dubbed with additional audio that doesn't match up with the particular scenes. She described one occasion where you could hear an actor enthusiastically shout some words that he couldn't have possibly said given what his mouth was doing at the time. She wasn't sure whether she should caption it to accurately reflect the audio, or to leave it out to better reflect reality.

"How do you know it wasn't the other guy that said it?" I asked. "Let's just say that his mouth was otherwise occupied, too!"

Right. Well, that is quite a tough call, then. But that's why they pay her the moderately big bucks, I guess!

Happy

I helped my mom download her first song ever the other week. She wanted to listen to "Happy" by Pharrell (well, she actually thought his name was "Feral" like a wild cat, but that's cute so she gets a pass) on her iPad. Who can blame her? The song is infectious. So infectious that my parents couldn't help but dance - which was also cute - each time it played. (It played a lot because when you only have one song on your iTunes, there's nothing else to shuffle to.)

My mom also played the song for my cousins, who weren't familiar with it. I understand that they're country music fans, but it floors me that they weren't familiar with a song that ubiquitous.

One of these cousins is a professional masseuse, and I bought my mom a session with her as a gift. As they discussed the particulars, my mom wanted to know if she should bring her own music. My cousin said that she had music prepared, but that she could accommodate my mom's request if she had one.

There was one song my mom wanted to hear: "Happy," obviously. Thinking the song too upbeat for a relaxing atmosphere, my cousin suggested that she play the song before the massage started instead. "Or after," she offered. "I could definitely play the song after."

It's pathetic that I couldn't stop myself from ruining a nice moment with an inappropriate comment, but I had to ask: "You're going to give my mom a 'Happy' ending?!" My cousin did not appreciate the implication.

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.

enlgish I nto godo

Bless YouTube commenter Jena Camila for responding to a clearly joke comment in a helpful manner.

Somebody's got a future in teaching English abroad!

A Really Important Thing Just Happened on Twitter

Then I got a follow back from a party icon, and now I feel unworthy. I've really got to up my party game so I don't disappoint him.

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.]

KONY 2012... Pizza

So this pizza place opened up in Koreatown just one month after the whole KONY 2012 thing went viral (and then immediately imploded) and like… seriously, dudes? You stuck with this name? And put the logo on a similarly red background?

Kings of New York would ordinarily make for a cool acronym, but post Kony-gate, the number one association people will have with the name is either a notorious child murderer or a cringe-worthy internet marketing campaign that ended with some guy masturbating in public… and I'm not sure which of those is worse.

Rebrand, rebrand, rebrand!

Every Moment at the Grammys Is a #GrammyMoment

So, how many Grammy Moments did YOU have last night? I had a few… but one of them was in my pants :(

I can still taste Ringo's taint on my breath after all that secondhand Beatles ass-licking that I was exposed to.

I appreciate Daft Punk for giving us a hint of the future. Hearing humans having to repeatedly say, "The robots want me to thank…" foretells a time when humans will be doing the robots' bidding.

I didn't realize it was possible, but LL Cool J is even worse at hosting an event than he is at writing a song about race relations in America.

I came in 6th out of 870 people at predicting the Grammy winners because that shit is really easy to figure out. When in doubt, bet on the lamer, mainstream option.

I can think of no less romantic way to get married than with an impersonal, mass ceremony conducted by Queen Latifah sandwiched in between Macklemore and Madonna performances. At least they validated the point that gay marriage is equal… ly stupid to any other kind of marriage.

I've defended Macklemore previously as a guy who is conscious of his white privilege and where he fits into the music scene, but I'm done, he's a sell out. Any points he gets for acknowledging societal ills are lost when he starts milking these flaws for his own gain. Like, dude wrote a really thoughtful song, "Wings", about consumerism and violence in the name of high priced sneakers, then sold the song to the NBA who edited it into some Nike celebrating nonsense. Fuck that noise.

I, too, am tired of being told to throw my hands up in the air, Lorde, but let's never forget that she's not even the best "Lordi" in the music industry.

Did you all swoon real hard for Kacey Musgraves, too? Memba I toldja about her at least twice now, so no excuses for not being a rabid fan. Seeing her singing about kissing girls, toking, and not giving a fuck about your judgmental neighbors and then pick up two awards was my personal highlight. Forget gay marriage - conservatives should really be up in arms about liberals coming for their precious country music!

Damn, CareerBuilder, You Got Me Pegged

I honestly wouldn't know the first thing... I can't even dress myself.

17 With Him

Hmm, is this an appropriate way to interact with a Facebook "friend" I haven't had contact with in many years?

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

Real Apologies

Real men extend real apologies.

(Bonus assholery: I can’t remember why I was doing it in the first place, but I do remember saying, “Mmm, you smell like ‘Original’.”)

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.

Dominate, Explode

OH MY G! I just found the best new way to waste time on the internet. (Because we all need more ways of doing that, right?)

So YouTube has this "Automatic Closed Caption" option that will attempt to transcribe some videos' audio, but it is AWFUL. Truly awful. However, what it lacks in accuracy, it makes up for in hilarity. Even a dumb YouTube video becomes an amusing one with this feature on.

I decided to experiment with something dry, dialogue-driven, and cliche-filled: student council speeches. And I'll be damned if I didn't watch nine minutes of teenagers saying nothing and laughing the whole time.


Go ahead. Play the video, and make sure to click the CC button in the menu and choose the "English (automatic captions)" option. You really need to see them in succession, but some of my favorite snippets include:

I heard Attorney Steve Obvious beat Bob Loblaw in court!

Revolution

I changed the "political views" on my Facebook profile since "liberal" didn't accurately reflect my desire to overthrow a system by and for moneyed interests and then Facebook decided to automatically hyperlink my stance to an NBC television show of the same name.

You're part of the problem, Facebook.

A Baby Is Born

So that my pregnant friend of mine who I said all the wrong things to met us at that same bar this week. I wasn't expecting to see her because she's literally nine months pregnant. Come to think of it, I don't think anyone expects to see a nine months pregnant woman in a bar.

Weirder still is when she said she was likely to come out again the following week… a day after her due date. That is, she stipulated, if she hadn't given birth yet. "What if you have the baby on the due date, will you still come out the next night?" "No." she said. See, this baby is already cutting into our friendship.

Luie said he'd grab towels "just in case." We tried to get her to agree to name the baby after the bar if her water broke while she was there, but she wouldn't agree.

My favorite moment, however, occurred between a married couple who are new friends of mine. After they were introduced to my pregnant friend and stared at her massive belly, they had a brief exchange: 

Husband: "That looks awful. I don't think I could ever do that to you."
Wife: "That's good, because I don't want you to ever do that to me."

Sounds like we can be friends for a good long while. Three cheers for the non-procreators!

Just 36 hours after that night in a bar, I received a picture message from my friend: it was her fresh-out-of-the-oven baby. Admittedly, it's difficult to reconcile the fact that we were hanging out and then soon after she was pushing a new human being out of her body.

I, again not saying the most appropriate things for the occasion, responded by sending this GIF of an even cuter baby performing CPR. (Seriously, I adore it so much, I watched it loop for fifteen minutes straight.) Accordingly, I asked the new mommy if she had bothered to teach her not-even-one-day-old resuscitation techniques yet.

She gave some lame excuse that the baby having enough difficulty learning to breastfeed, but whatever. This is about potentially saving someone's life! It's never too soon. Frankly, I'm not sure I'm willing to hang out with this baby until I know she could rescue me in the event I stop breathing.

Eurovision Is Here

The Eurovision semifinals start tomorrow, culminating in the finals on Saturday (come over to mi case in the afternoon, amigos!), meaning we are currently entering my favorite week of the year.

The Eurovision video I edited got blocked on YouTube due to a copyright claim. I plead ignorant - I wasn't aware people bothered to copyright songs that awful. But FINE. Two can play this game - I just uploaded it again to DailyMotion instead.

However, YouTube only blocked my vid for the U.S. and a handful of other countries. Europeans (in general the only people who know and care about this music) are still able to watch the video. As a result, I still receive a bunch of pissed off comments from them. How DARE I call their sacred competition "ridiculous". Here are my 10 favorite angry YouTube comments that show how seriously they take it:

Like, they WATCHED that same compilation and think I'm the one with no taste? Bless their hearts, for they are part of what makes this experience so comical.

I Had a Fake Pen Pal in High School

It sounds more pathetic than it is… at least I hope that's the case. In my Spanish class, we had to strike up a correspondence with someone living in a Spanish-speaking country. It was a long-term assignment, and I was so disgruntled with my tragic pen pal experience from elementary school that I didn't want to do it. That, or more realistically I just procrastinated intensely and found myself days short of a deadline without a pen pal, so I just decided to make one up.

Her name was Ana and she was from Madrid. I chose both of those proper nouns because they were the first ones I thought of that didn't have accents in them. Why annoy myself having to find the accent marks on the keyboard to type something like "María" when I didn't have to? I went about setting up a fake email account for Ana when I discovered a flaw in my plan. How, with just a few years of shaky Spanish, was I going to write an email that seemed plausibly written by a native speaker?

I approached my profesora after class. Since she wanted us to include all of our emails in our packet, I thought I'd take a moral stance, asking, "What if they're kind of personal?" This excited her. "Personal? Vicente [my "Spanish" name], do you have a new girlfriend? Are you flirting with your pen pal?" "I dunno…" I stammered, really thrown by her leap. But it worked! My profesora said, as nosy as she was, that it wasn't her business to read my private emails and that I could just summarize the relevant content in my own Spanish words instead.

Even if it wasn't my aim, I should have known that just alluding to a love connection would be enough to win my profesora over. She taught us a lot of relationship vocabulary words, had us write love letters in Spanish, and even had us to a video project where we filmed ourselves describing our traits and desires in a "dating profile." When she found out we had both a competitive hockey player and figure skater (one of whom went on to play in the minor leagues and the other went on to appear as Pocahontas in Disney on Ice) in our class, she had us watch The Cutting Edge in an attempt to make romance blossom. And she shared embarrassing stories (though she didn't seem to see it that way) about how she would secretly watch her crush by climbing his neighbor's tree.

The Ana rouse wasn't an easy one. I had to invent all sorts of her interests and personality traits to write about, too. Fortunately, her hobbies were things like futbol and fotografia and other vocabulary words that were in our text book. I'm sure it would have been less work if I had just found a real Spanish speaker to correspond with. But then again, nobody said that maintaining a fake Canadian Spanish girlfriend would be easy.