You are currently browsing the daily archive for March 26, 2009.
She said: "I won't go out with you."
If someone is wearing a T-shirt with a joke on it, it’s usually an effective way to tell that said person is not funny.
I never understood the mindset of purchasing things so not funny, but it must strike as genius while the moron is wandering through Hot Topic or along Venice Beach.
Wearing the shirt is a whole other story, unless the sought intention is to advertise, “Hey, everyone! Just wanna let you all know that I am really not funny. Like, not at all.”
The shirts are so not funny, that they actually borderline on a little crazy. They always say something like, “The voices in my head say, ‘I’m not normal,'” or, “There’s a village missing its town retard somewhere.”
I think I’m most annoyed by the general proclamation made to the forty people on the subway car with whom this idiot is announcing his unfunny joke T-shirt. “I’m not a psychopathic killer, but the voices in my head are telling me to kill you all.”
the pinnacle of modern science
I take my time when I’m on the toilet. Nothing excessive, just I get a book or a newspaper and make myself at home, even when I’m out and about. But I recently realized that you know you spend too much time on the toilet when the laser beam automatic flusher just decides that it’s been enough.
Ever have this happen to you, where you overstay your welcome on the laser flushing timer? It’s as though a robotically-designed piece of modern technology can’t even fathom that anyone would stay on the toilet that long.
Laser beams and robots can do millions of calculations per millisecond, yet somehow it doesn’t even have it close to its radar, database, point of reason, that I’m not done with the sports section yet.
The machines are taking over.
One toilet at a time.
And doesn’t this seem like a slight waste of laser-beam technology? Shouldn’t we have Terminators by now?
Techno clubs: perfect for one-liners
It’s not that white Jewish men don’t dance. That would be a Semetic and cultural stereotype. More accurately, white Jewish men don’t know how to dance. The stereotypes just come out of that.
We collectively have nothing against going to dance clubs and electronica shows and raves. The problem is that we don’t have a prayer at picking up girls in this type of setting.
The Jewish Male, as a species, thrives on using his intellectual wit and cunning sarcasm and promising wealth to belittle the tall, strong, good-looking men who know how to dance.
Therefore when we go to a dance club, we’re put at a severe disadvantage when it comes to potentially getting laid.
A white Jewish male trying to pickup an attractive girl in a dance club is the social equivelant of a warm-weather football team playing an away game in Pittsburgh or Green Bay. Simply put, clubbing for Jews is an away game.
The Grove: A mall, with no roof/Sbarros
I went to the movies yesterday, and for the first time, the characters in the movie I was watching went to the place where I was watching the movie itself.
It was bizarre. I had a much-needed night off, so I decided to relax, get away from everything, head for a little escapism, so I walked over to the Pacific Theaters at The Grove to see I Love You, Man (pretty good stuff). But about half-way in, the characters in the movie, make a visit to the Pacific Theaters at The Grove.
So I’m left with this existential experience of going to a place and watching a movie depicting the place where I’m watching the movie. The only way to have made this more mind-boggling is if the characters in the movie, went to the movie theater where I was sitting and either: a) watched a movie about me sitting in a theater watching a movie, or b) the actors coincidentally went out that night to the movie theater, and sat down next to me just after they had walked into the movie on the screen.
These are the kinds of things that make the universe implode.
Max Lance - The Modern Jew Blog 