Blozor

A recent Google search for something completely unrelated brought me, as most Google searches for obscure unrelated topics do, to the Yahoo!Answers forum, particularly the conception section. So I decided that I missed this a little and dug around for some stupid questions and answers, as people often post in Yahoo!Answers. This is not a return to form; I don't plan on doing this every week. I'm still not ready for that yet, if I'll ever be again.

All natural baby preserves.

( Pikachu, I choose you! )

If the government legalized marijuana, China would just lace it with lead.

Or GHB.

Or the FDA would inject it with salmonella.

I guess no one can use blank pages anymore. Or the color white. Thanks a bunch.

You know, people think political parties are these clandestine, super-secret, underground organizations conspiring against each other to control the world, but they're really not. The truth is the Democrats are just as fucked up as the Republicans. If one party really wants to know what the other party is hiding, they just need to look at what their own party is hiding because it's the exact same stupid shit.

Idea courtesy quirkytizzy. Caption courtesy me.

— When the voice from the speaker at the fast food drive-thru asks "May I take your order?"

— While having sex with your girlfriend for the first time.

— When the police officer asks for your license, registration, and proof of insurance.

— During the field sobriety test.

— When the drill sergeant asks what your major malfunction is.

— While you're being chased by a homicidal maniac wielding a large machete.

— When your five-year-old daughter asks you to tell her a bedtime story.

— To the anonymous woman sitting on the barstool next to you after you've had a few too many beers.

— To the large, burly man sitting on the opposite barstool next to you after the anonymous woman rejects your advances and you've had a few more beers.

— When you take the stage, grab the mic, and 150,000 madly cheering fans are expecting something more along the lines of "Rockin' in the Free World."

— When Satan offers to buy your soul for cursed favors. Actually, it might make him just a little uncomfortable.

— To your mother on Mother's Day.

— When the bailiff asks you if you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

— "Tower, my main engine's on fire, am I cleared to make an emergency landing?"

— On your first date, puking out the words right after the girl asks if you liked the movie.

— At the humane society, as you pick up one of the cats you're considering for adoption.

— To the jerk who cuts you off in rush hour traffic.

— While delivering the State of the Union Address.

— When your younger sister comes to visit you after being away for college.

— To a hooker, in the middle of a blowjob.

— After taking a large hit of PCP, cocaine, and ecstasy. You're just not in the right frame of mind to be making any sort of commitment.

— TextIM.

— When you're standing over the body with the bloodied knife still in your guilty fist.

— Among the closing credits of a movie.

— At the divorce hearing.

— Visitor's day at the insane asylum.

Yeah, something was bothering me earlier, but now something exciting happened and killed all that noise.

I just tried on a pair of pants I haven't been able to wear for years, and they FIT! Comfortably!

They're two sizes smaller than what I've been wearing.

Quick, easy way to tell if the person in front of you is an idiot and should be avoided at all cost.



Seriously, how do you even manage that?

Part of a text conversation:

ME: "You might also want to check out Lennon Murphy. She's what Avril Lavigne wishes she could be."

AMY: "At this point, I suspect Avril wishes she could be anyone who can sell a record."

If there is one person or more on your friends list who makes your world a better place just because they exist and who you would not have met (in real life or not) without the internet, then post this same sentence in your journal.

You know who you are.

There's a growing trend I've recently noticed in people while driving. I'd like to take a moment, as a public service, to address this concern.

When you're driving along a two lane residential street, and a vehicle is parked on your side of the street, it is your responsibility to stop and wait behind the parked vehicle if another vehicle is coming down the street in the oncoming lane.

It is not acceptable for you to drive around the parked vehicle without consideration for the vehicle in the oncoming lane. It is not that driver's responsibility to stop and wait for you.

I swear to God, I will keep going and let you hit me, because you are in my lane. If you hit me in my lane it is automatically your fault, because you are in my lane. Fuck, the argument could be made that you intentionally crossed into the oncoming lane for the purpose of crashing into me, because that's certainly what it would look like.

So, in summary, stay on your own side of the street.

Deadpool and the Watchmen spoof the "I'm a Mac & I'm a PC" commercials.

Now every time I feel a little sick, I'm going to have to worry that I might have contracted the swine flu. I don't even know what the sympoms of swine flu are, except I'd be willing to bet that they'd fall into the category of flu-like.

I think the swine flu would be more awesome if it would actually turn people into pigs. Or pig people, like on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Now that would be an epidemic! People would be like, "Great. Pig people. We still have bird people walking around from 2007!" At least, that way, it would be easy for health experts to identify if it was the swine flu and not some other virus that killed a person. "That pig is wearing a shirt — must have been the swine flu."

Okay, so I now officially fail at the Internets.

I need a break. An honest to God break. A hiatus.

I need to not post for a while.

I have a lot of major things going on in my life right now, and I don't have the time or the attention span to put into creating quality posts of any sort. When things get straightened out, I'll be back, and I think, better than ever.

Just... not right now.

I never wanted to be one of those people who couldn't update on a schedule, but I think after four and a half years online, all but one of those years writing daily updates, I don't have a bad track record. Everything must come to an end.

But this isn't an end, just a break.

I promise.

I need to go away and dream it all up again.

I will still read my FriendsList and comment regularly. You guys entertain, enlighten, and enrich my life, and I love you all for it.

Don't worry — BELIEVE ME when I tell you that the reason behind this...

Is a good thing.

Today is National Income Tax Filing Day, a day of community, where people from every walk of life can come together and share the common bond of standing shoulder to shoulder in the post office lobby. I don't know much about income taxes, other than no one understands them and they freak me out. Seriously. Every time I start a new job, they give me a W-4, or a W-2, or a WD-40 form to fill out, and it makes me want to curl up into the fetal position on the floor and sob, and the only thing I have to do is mark a "1" in certain spots.

Like any red-blooded American, I want to do my civic duty to properly report my filing status as accurately as possible to withhold the maximum amount of money from the government without being accused of perjury. Unfortunately, there are two factors working against me when it comes to income taxes. One is specifically designed to work against me, as it's specifically designed to work against most people who are not criminally insane, (by which I mean "lawyers and politicians"). The other, I'll admit, is that I am easily confused by anything combining numbers with completely abstract concepts.

The IRS combines both of these factors into one big, scary process specifically designed to make me panic and give them a lot of money, then worry that they're going to throw me in jail anyway. This is the same thing that makes it impossible for me to perform any sort of financial transaction more substantial than buying gum without direct supervision.

Like, I'll decide I want to go buy a car. To me, buying a car should be pretty self-explanatory. You go to a store, and you buy a car. Only in this case the "store" is called a "dealership," and it's loaded with "salesmen" who are trying to "take advantage of you." You find a car that fits your price range and your needs, and you tell the salesman that you want the car. The problem comes in when the salesman sits you down in his office for several presidential administrations and starts talking about scary car things like features and options and dealer incentives. Then I get all confused. Then he'll start throwing numbers out at random, and if he starts comparing it with another car, my brain shuts down. By the time I'm done, I might walk away with three cars. I might walk away with no cars and a 237% interest rate. I might walk away paying for someone else's car. I have no idea!

I'm also really gullible. If the salesman tells me I need to have something on my car, oftentimes I'll agree to it just to make him stop throwing numbers at me. That is why I always need to have someone with me who knows what they're doing when I'm buying any expensive items like a car or a house or furniture or pretty much anything involving a contract.

Contracts are the worst. Insurance companies will list a bunch of policies, and I have no idea what any of them are really for because they all have names like "Balanced Assured Compensation Liability Mutual Licensee Aforementioned Deduction Allowance," and of course I need every single one. I end up with an entire contract, and I don't even know what it even covers, but I can rest assured knowing that whatever problem I have, it isn't included in the contract.

This brings me back to today's topic, which is income tax filing, a topic that makes me a total neurotic mess who seeks the advice of people who may or may not know what they're doing. I don't really know anything or care about income taxes, and therefore I had to fill the bulk of this article with completely unrelated filler. This is a time-honored technique that most professional writers perfect in college, where they are assigned essays on topics they care nothing about, such as the United States Tax Code. They have to answer such important questions as "Is the President of the United States exempt from paying income taxes?" and "Or what?" Both of these can be answered by copying and pasting any relevant section of the tax code, such as:

If an eligible person sells any property pursuant to a certificate of divestiture, at the election of the taxpayer, gain from such sale shall be recognized only to the extent that the amount realized on such sale exceeds the cost (to the extent not previously taken into account under this subsection) of any permitted property purchased by the taxpayer during the 60-day period beginning on the date of such sale.

TAX TIP: If you don't owe the government any money, you can file up to three years past the deadline, but if you do owe the government money, trained IRS agents will kick down your door and take it from you.

I'm taking an Easter break. I'll try to pop out a Sunday update later this week, but knowing me, I might just skip it all together.

It's been a difficult weekend and I'm just not in the right frame of mind today.

March came in like a lamb, bounding and bleating and eating all the grass in our yards until we got fed up and cut off all its hair to make coats because March went out like a lion, raining all over the place. March contained no holidays meriting free days off work, although, in my opinion, the release of the Watchmen movie should have been considered. If only our country was run by former comic book nerds. At least they would have the sense to understand that Bruce Wayne would make a far better Treasury Secretary than Lex Luthor.

Directly following March naturally comes April, or unnaturally comes August, but since this isn't a leap year I'm going to stick with April. April brings us the elusive holiday Easter, which falls on a different Sunday every year, ranging from the beginning of March to the end of May, given certain astrological calculations based on the positions of the stars and the mood in the air and the groundhog seeing its shadow on the day that Jesus died on the Cross. The Bible is not quite as specific about Easter as it is adamant that Christmas is to be celebrated on December 25th. Apparently two different Ancient Roman Bureaucrats were keeping records at the time.

DATE ON JESUS' BIRTH CERTIFICATE: December 25th, 0 A.D.
DATE ON JESUS' DEATH CERTIFICATE: The First Sunday Of The Third Trimester Of The Second Shepherd Moon Following The Super Bowl, Carry The Remainder, And No Less Than Six Weeks After The Groundhog Sees Its Shadow, 33 A.D.

Not much is known about Easter as it is not a highly publicized holiday. Christmas gets roughly 147 billion different songs on constant rotation everywhere you go from the beginning of August through the end of December. Christmas gets a slew of television specials and movies aired so aggressively some of them need a government mandate limiting how many times they can be shown on television each year. Easter, on the other hand, gets one song by obscure progressive rock band Marillion, a movie by Charlton Heston, and another by Mel Gibson.

I can't recall much about the Charlton Heston Easter movie except it probably had something to do with guns, or maybe apes. I do happen to remember that easily influenced Christians blamed Jews for the death of Jesus Christ because Mel Gibson's Easter movie told them to, even though the Bible explicitly states that it was all God's fault. In fact, according to the Book of Matthew, Chapter 26, Verses 39 and 40:

³⁹Then Jesus went with them to the olive grove called Gethsemane and bowed with his face to the ground, praying, "My Father! If it is possible, let this cup of suffering be taken away from me."

⁴⁰God looked down and whispered "No."

In response to the outrage over his negative portrayal of Jewish people in his movie, Mel Gibson expressed his sincere regret with a drunken, anti-Semitic tirade. There's much more to Easter than the irrational hatred of Jewish people, though. There's also bunnies. Since Easter takes place in the springtime, it's been largely associated with bunnies, chickens, ducks, eggs, green pastures, blue skies, yellow sunshine, and whatever occurs in nature that can be associated with the color pink. (Strawberry Nestlé Quick?)

In the weeks leading up to Easter, parents can take advantage of the opportunity to frighten their kids by taking them to the mall and having them sit on the lap of a man in an anthropomorphic bunny costume because that is slightly less creepy of a holiday mascot than an emaciated bleeding guy in a diaper. This is the Easter Bunny. Unlike Jesus Christ, the Easter Bunny would steal chicken eggs and hide them to antagonize farmers, who would send their formidable armies of confused toddlers to retrieve them. As far as I can tell, this is the basis for the Easter tradition we still honor to this day of sending our college students to tropical paradises to have uninhibited, drunken sex for a week straight.

Most importantly, Easter is the last chance to get worthwhile holiday candy until Halloween. I highly recommend Brach's Bunny Basket Eggs. These are basically pure cane sugar packed inside hard candy shells. These are so rich that most people eat half of one and put the other half away for later, but I can eat an entire bag of these at a time because I am an advanced candy eater and have been eating candy products for so long I will probably die from diabetes before I'm 40, but that is the sacrifice Jesus was willing to make to save the world from sin.

Sometimes I like to play with my cat, just to see if I can still feel.

Really I'm not "checking out the competition." I don't care about the "competition" and have not cared about the "competition" for years now. If I were more worried about the "competition," my profile wouldn't be the lyrics to a Genesis song because I know there's nothing chicks dig more than mid-Seventies prog rock sung by Peter Gabriel.

I am in probably the best relationship of my life so far, and the only reason I still lurk on OKCupid is that I am fascinated by the little windows through which I get to peer into other people's personalities. I was originally going to revisit an incest forum that I mocked a couple years ago since SomethingAwful raided a similar incest forum, but I got distracted by the stupid profile of some guy on OKCupid, from which I linked to the stupid profiles of other guys on OKCupid, and overall, I feel much better about my prospects if my current relationship were to end in a tragic bus accident, because I'd probably just spend the rest of my life alone and miserable like House if something like that ever happened.

Yes. Health issues. Just keep telling yourself that.


When she's having a really bad day, what every woman really wants is a man to tell her how to get the work done quicker.

( Click for more dating advice! )

This show is stupid.

It's not crazy or outrageous or unpredictable like the commercials promised. In fact, it's the worst kind of predictability, the kind that tries way too hard to look unpredictable.

The pacing is forced, and each Osbourne has the comedic timing of a soap opera full of preschoolers. Each "joke" consists of the following three parts: 1) The setup. 2) The moment of startled silence. 3) The obligatory obscenity.

That their trademark obscenties are completely staged is clearly evident. They aren't cursing for any reason except that it's what is expected of them. Upon meeting an audience member named "Nick," Kelly responds by asking, "Do you know your name rhymes with "dick"?" just so she can get one more "bleep" under her belt. This generated big laughs from the exeedingly gracious audience despite this sort of joke only being funny to the most immature of third-graders. You use profanity to add emphasis to your statements. Profanity for the sole purpose of profanity is not edgy or shocking, it's just stupid.

At least when Ozzy utters an obscenity, you know it's authentic because he seems to have no idea what's going on. He shuffles out, mumbles, and drops a few f-bombs in confusion until they tell him to do something crazy like spray the audience with foam, which is the only part of the show that he clearly enjoys.

I am convinced that all of the antics are staged. The Osbournes know what's going to happen well in advance, from the audience members they select, to the situations they're going to put the audience members in, to the outcomes of those situations. Will the guy be disgusted that he kissed an old lady? No. Will the other guy marry his girlfriend? Yes. If he didn't, they wouldn't have their tidy happy ending, and then what? Then they'd have to do something unpredictable, and it's apparent by their forced dialog that they are not the most adept at thinking on their feet.

The two skits were equally as fake. First they presented a "reality" clip of Ozzy and Kelly working in a fast food restaurant. You can't tell me not one customer saw the long-haired guy with the circular blue sunglasses mumbling at them through the window and said, "Hey, aren't you Ozzy Osbourne? Holy shit! Ozzy Osbourne is dumping my food on the ground!" Of course they were all actors. The restaurant managers just stood there and let the two of them drive away business? No customers complained?

The second skit was even worse. At least with the previous skit, you had the benefit of hearing Ozzy's voice over a drive-thru speaker, ("H'elcome taiaiaoai. Hoyowoyoyoooo fuckin' eeeeebejedus bif dupe?"). The second skit featured cursing children dressed up like Ozzy and Sharon at the movies, just to be, you know, shocking. Oooh! Those kids are cursing! Kids shouldn't curse! That's shocking! It's not even original. It wasn't funny when Will Ferrell did it, and it's not funny now. It would be one thing if the kids were cursing at real people who didn't expect it, just to see how they would react. When the people they're cursing at are obviously actors, (and I man "obviously" as in "I've seen them playing bit parts in other things"), then the entire point is just to shock us with profane children, which, again, is stupid, just like the show.

Ozzy needs to stick with making heavy metal.