tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192091072024-03-07T09:56:16.052-08:00This just isn't my lucky day...Optimism is the disease...and my blog is the cure.Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.comBlogger107125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-44510684812712804042009-02-13T08:25:00.001-08:002009-02-13T08:28:34.849-08:00Alien technology<p>What I am about to share with you could cost me my life…</p> <p>For many years, men have assumed that women were actually aliens from another planet.  In the past, this notion was based on the fact that their mannerisms and thought processes were incomprehensible to our gender, and that our attempts to bridge this gap via oral communication have failed.  We have always lacked the necessary proof to confirm this theory - until now.  </p> <p>Behold, the torturous devices of our would-be alien captors!</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LMlN7unIfFXi6VDc0I2dninN2jrZuOJwr6_6DfrvI0mTcpdORypXxP0hNFF6rf8KCBdwp1sSuUyEyvYHB2RlAPo7291Gs5Bpgv4G41Ph-I8WtFkAXZ166q-pklbl83Y0Luw3PQ/s1600-h/tool1%5B4%5D.jpg"><img title="tool1" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="tool1" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivxDBGvcHa-h7Om0S9ovbY8sOc6S3_ph9Oja9R0rywbVO1zcCQvNkeJZwHxJBY3x7OHwzJMvbzZMnhEqydDaO5hW0RD-by3dEbojLAYepimDYzBw5DJSR6zlprLg5bUCZIYi0heg//?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /></a> </p> <p>I have yet to discover the true purpose of this insidious device, but it is most certainly used to extract information from their human slaves!  Based on the appearance of this item, I am led to believe that our modern day salad tongs were developed by the government after years of studying one of these devices. </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheQO-LgzYlwHl0eQl8Vv4qjdkRqV5gnQrDIeBW9wx9HXuL6-aCkQ_b131PxdA3qYiWlNUj4K8ACzNVPvA0jg3l9MiAhHQDxvXnZIMmpCHyZMKtBwKLfo5S_tQ3kRTWGjucqBYxaA/s1600-h/tool2%5B3%5D.jpg"><img title="tool2" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="tool2" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL80Q201ayQh8g3aEUMBvWk6Z7xdJzHr7GDRyj4pVscwiVvJHKMPQ-_SzeW28MVRFb577d4lGqfzYlQ_hJeMTkf0y0T2_zJpOR4YMyBjzvyiGo8hYp1BxC6v4wMOweWYCO16LMiA//?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /></a> </p> <p>Notice what appear to be instructions directing the aliens on how to use these devices on your eyes!  I can’t be sure, but it looks like some of these have tips that are meant to be coated with shimmering alien moon dust and then used to apply that substance to your eyelids.  This substance forces you to keep your eyes open (thus forcing you to stay awake) while they ravage your mind with tales of trips to the alien shopping mall and the latest dirt on their “best friend” Xua-Ti who was seen parsing nanotechnology with the Intergalactic postman.  </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREJKY2q8v2s4eO-dCyNjiCGzJC5PObbTTpSa5RALnOqd-JVMwgw3qBcyecQRs4nnQYR726bTarwcX5jkGrGVZ-sTMxUmy6_XL7lREEHruuDzRUD_gzFGwCHcyjNKW01xqhNSHLg/s1600-h/tool3%5B3%5D.jpg"><img title="tool3" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="237" alt="tool3" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFOBP2gu5-mz2URhpEQJiR_NqoS4h3pp11aeILEMRi8_a4lI_OTAVcJGDfHAaF3hDZLq9jV8DJSuCd2s57hV27Jgkgn9GygOHO_DasUJrH5LZwg8mt2RYlXuOLWMXUKQOo88HNXw//?imgmax=800" width="237" border="0" /></a> </p> <p>This device is used to rip the very skin off your body!  Notice the grated metal surface, designed to inflict as much pain as possible per square inch of flesh!</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb8z_YlTwX3K8AGaoSjUPYZzDm3YcuJSuUHWKdO1Y2bMXcFtIEtzRmvNAVu-He01zsvimmAYx8gD-QSwAsuVRmc4xk6fUOcaQHDijMZssRsAYfbr5nvRrkSUD3i17_BrKi2FFRbw/s1600-h/tool4%5B3%5D.jpg"><img title="tool4" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="tool4" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhasRmDllZW3Km5Q5d3wzKNzsVl5cLKgk3p5Aa7EsA1V7XaLl1GnUQ9I8zvp59hVRWrBiQFI5edSFmGFIXeWUq1PJ0fD5KIIB1gPG90KVntf3LQLp1_wQKY0cSX8p4QhxHysRJV5Q//?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /></a> </p> <p>This substance is the alien equivalent of marinade.  It’s applied liberally to the skin and softens us up so that we are easier to eat and digest.  The ladle ensures a consistent, even coating, and the honey bamboo flavoring helps ensure that we don’t taste like chicken.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5chGS5A-FaVUGiXVCpcwLogc-lRGG7afOuRUYMD_bsWSTBvlG4MGYIE7EqG8ZE5uQKfihex9J5Z9MuedLC6zFgjmP62JnfUKWPvF9x4R7xPvyZ9lPl8sYDKOPlBqwRly-o05wQ/s1600-h/tool5%5B3%5D.jpg"><img title="tool5" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="tool5" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCTRs63uiL4AYpQh-XXxRmMdoM0l4FLU4nezaaVES1zhbdEhyolW_xp_Q-Fd-55CsXntfg9jygfKGFo4D1aBoULPl4IYdY3yEpDPT6lwSAchKYbiTbyl55Zy7hd0n9_5TvcD0sJw//?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /></a> </p> <p>Out of everything I discovered, it was this device that scared me the most.  An electrical current is put through the metal rod at the end, causing it to become extremely hot.  The aliens will then place this device on the edge of the sink in your bathroom, dangling precariously over the water below, in hopes that you will try to grab the device in an attempt to put it away.  The design hides the fact that the metal rod is over 1,243 degrees Fahrenheit, and you therefore have no idea that grabbing it will melt your hands off.  You grab the device, are severely burned and scarred, and in the process knock the device into the sink (that just happens to be full of water).  Upon retrieving the device from the sink you are electrocuted to death.  We are dealing with a highly advanced intelligence here folks – do not underestimate them!   </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhavRaEAIN-oyun65y_YXpxBznork_WKvWR-2EbcngNacpe6kZcM4Mr8lMnFxwjN8F7Y9z4p5wpiqPfirjkoJdALCmqRxE4pcg94XJfB7KeqYD7IMqRs5u2Cs_iawY6bj_A-Hmizw/s1600-h/tool7%5B3%5D.jpg"><img title="tool7" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="240" alt="tool7" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirF7Vyjs8-ymOWDoXT8-QT0pXsbtgkGvHe0sWs46P4ETvWmT98ShOQn-pCm0oIkc0__gmNsRpWALTuJykJ10zWkdbNUoxMfY-U7_GA-ZI7zN8kyypbVFF-HC1PGTTh80OGVPWtHQ//?imgmax=800" width="240" border="0" /></a> </p> <p>When the war finally begins, this is the weapon you’ll see the aliens wielding.  These devices use “ions” to melt their targets with extreme heat and deafening noise.  Some models contain “diffusers”, which I can only guess means that they destroy their targets on a molecular level when these attachments are applied.</p> <p>So the next time your wife tells you that she’s “getting ready”, you better ask yourself exactly what it is she’s getting ready for.</p> <p><em>For crying out loud, how long does it take you to get your hair fixed up!  It’s been two hours!  We have reservations in 5 minutes and we’re not even out the door yet!  Exactly how much hair do you have?  I mean, it’s like a…hey…wait a minute…what are you doing…NO, NOT THE DIFFUSER!!! AAHHHHHH-</em></p> Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-13215456631018166082009-02-04T13:40:00.001-08:002009-02-04T13:40:14.946-08:00Calling my insurance company<p><em>Thank you for calling your crappy insurance company, how may I help you today?</em></p> <p>Yeah, I am a paying customer who sends you lots of money every month so that I can have coverage when I need to go to the doctor.  I’m calling because you require me to get your approval prior to using the insurance I’m paying you for each month, because you’ve told me that if I don’t ask you beforehand you won’t cover me.  So, before I use my health insurance I’m calling to ask you whether or not I can use my health insurance.  The same insurance I’m paying you for.</p> <p><em>Ok sir, I’ll need to get your ID number please so that I can look up your information.</em></p> <p>Sure, my ID number is KDP3459874312JR52323453218GG21000000000000008.  Thanks for making that impossible to remember so that I’m practically doomed if I ever lose my insurance card.</p> <p><em>Can you please give me the name of the physician that you are planning to see?</em>  </p> <p>Sure, it’s Dr. James Thompson.</p> <p><em>I’m showing an address of 123 Stupid Drive, Nowhere AL for Dr. Thompson, is this correct?</em></p> <p>Well, that’s one of his offices, but I see him at a different location.  Same guy, just a different building, but that’s no big deal right?</p> <p><em>Actually sir, unless you see him at the location I gave you we cannot consider him to be in our network.  The address you see him at is not covered in our network.</em></p> <p>So…even though it’s the same guy, the building that I receive treatment at determines whether or not you consider him to be in your “network”?  I thought doctors were let into your network based on their credentials and quality of service, but based on what you’re telling me it’s just where they’re located?</p> <p><em>Yes sir, that’s correct.</em></p> <p>Wow, that sure is an incredibly stupid way to determine which doctors you prefer your customers to see.  So what type of coverage will I have seeing a doctor who’s in your network but not really due to stupid geography?</p> <p><em>Well sir, if you were to see a doctor in the network, you would receive coverage for up to 80% of the total bill minus the cosign of the average speed of light divided by 3 – with a a $250 deductible, of course.</em>  </p> <p>Ok…I’ll just act like I understood that…so what about this case where the doctor is not in the “network”?</p> <p><em>For a doctor that is out of network, you will receive coverage for up to 50% of the total bill provided that those charges are directly related to  matters of national security OR that those charges can be attributed to damage related to being probed by aliens – with a $7,895 deductible.</em>  </p> <p>Uhh…what?  That’s basically no coverage!  I’ll have to pay the entire cost out of my own pocket to see a doctor that’s in your network but in the wrong building when I see him – and while I’m paying for this I’m still cutting you a check every month for the health insurance that I can’t use?</p> <p><em>Yes sir that’s correct.  We urge our customers to use physicians in the network.  If you can’t find or use a physician in the network, we urge you to go curl up in a corner and die.  Is there anything else I can help you with today?</em></p> <p>Just one more thing…can you give me directions to get to your facility in terms that a pilot could clearly understand?  A stealth bomber pilot, for example?</p> <p><em>Yes, this was based on an actual experience I had this week.</em></p> Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-17246787532650296682008-11-19T19:04:00.000-08:002009-02-09T13:22:01.260-08:00My eyeballs just threw up...<p><br />I am in Seattle right now sitting in my hotel room...I'm here for a technical conference so I'm not really blogging this week or doing much of anything this week (except for attending lectures, avoiding eye contact with other geeks like myself so I don't have to feign interest in their lives and talk to them, and eating the most overpriced room service food in the history of the world, which also happens to taste like refried aardvark eggs slathered in goat butter). <br /></p><p>However, something happened on my flight up here that I felt compelled to blog about immediately.</p><p>American Airlines decided to show a movie during our 4 1/2 hour flight from Dallas to Seattle, you know, to help us forget about the inhumane conditions on these flights that we had to endure. I mean come on...were these airlines expecting 12 year old girls to be their only passengers? Because no way were those seats and rows designed for regular adults! And then there's the whole "Hey when I flush the toilet it's like I'm opening a hole outside the plane is this going to compromise the cabin pressure" thing...but I'm getting off subject here.</p><p>Anyway, they showed a movie, and for reasons that can only be described as the most pure form of evil ever exhibited they decided to show a movie called "Mamma Mia!".</p><p>I don't know who green lighted this movie, but whoever it was needs to be forced to eat spinach-stuffed liver steaks for every single meal for the rest of their lives. This was BY FAR the worst piece of crap I've ever laid eyes on, and if you read this blog at all you know that's saying a lot. I was so disgusted that I wanted to take one of those HAZMAT showers where they chemically cleanse your skin, which looks very painful but was the only thing I could think of to remove the overwhelming stench of failure off of me after having witnessed bits and pieces of this movie when I couldn't properly and completely avert my eyes. </p><p>Every time I looked up at the screen, people were dancing around like some sort of stinkin' musical, giving each other goofy looks and overemphasizing every little facial expression. It was like they thought the audience was on the moon, and so when they smiled or gave someone a look they had to do it really big and really hard so that people five trillion miles away would recognize what they were doing. Apparently, two stupid kids wanted to get married or something, and these two stupid kids had even more stupid parents and relatives who felt the need to communicate solely via poorly performed song and dance. Incidentally, have you EVER ONCE seen anyone talk to their family and friends by dancing around singing to them? Where did this concept come from? No one does this in real life because it's so cheesy and corny that anyone witnessing you do it would collectively and instantaneously kick your butt for it. STOP DOING IT IN MOVIES. Why? Because it's dumb and it angers me.</p><p>Speaking of stuff that angers me, I HATE when movie titles have exclamation! points! in! them! It's so ridiculously stupid...the movie is not "Mamma Mia"...it's "Mamma Mia!", like adding that exclamation point will be the deciding factor in whether or not millions of idiots flock to the box office to see this garbage. Of course, given the content of the movie, their target group might have been the mentally deficient. Stupid exclamation point..."HEY FREAKING MAMMA MIA!!! WOO HOO YEAH MAMMA MIA CAUSE WE'RE EXCITED HERE AND WE WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT THIS MOVIE IS GOING TO BE FULL OF ENERGY AND SPUNK AND LOTS OF FUN DANCING AROUND AND STUPID OUTFITS AND FAILED ATTEMPTS AT HUMOR THAT ONLY THE ELDERLY OR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE WOULD FIND FUNNY!"</p><p>Don't even try to post comments here about how you liked the movie. This movie is the 10th degree black belt head instructor at the "Dojo of the Almighty Suck". If I were an actor in this movie, I'd sue to have any evidence of my involvement expunged from the annals of history.</p><p><em>Who in the world came up with the spelling for aardvark? Why is the letter "a" in there twice up front? What freaking purpose in the world does that serve except for to confound our efforts to correctly spell it? I'm telling you right now, someone did that on purpose.</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-23613751314710032002008-11-11T08:46:00.001-08:002008-11-11T08:46:04.196-08:00Useless questions?<p>There are some questions that don’t need to be asked because the answers are obvious.  </p> <p><em>“Doctor, is this going to hurt?”</em></p> <p>The answer is always yes, it will hurt.  If you ask the doctor this question, and he says “No, it won’t hurt”, he’s lying through his teeth.  How can it not hurt?  They use popsicle sticks and needles and rubber tubing to go places humans are not supposed to be able to go with regard to the body of another person.  Now on the other hand, if you ask the doctor this question and he says “Yes, it’s going to hurt some” then GET THE HECK OUT OF THERE!  For the doctor to admit that there will be pain involved means that the pain will be so great that even he feels bad about lying to you about it.  If the doctor says it will hurt, there are probably going to be bone saws and transfusions involved, and in the end isn’t that just as bad as whatever malady has brought you in there in the first place?  Also, never ever forget the “curiosity” factor – doctors LOVE to go on walkabout inside your colon anytime they can just to see what’s in there.  They’ll take any reason they can to crack you open and poke around.  </p> <p><em>“So what was wrong with my car?”</em></p> <p>For most of us, cars are machines too complex to understand…so why do we waste time acting like we’re going to understand what the mechanic tells us when we take our car in for repairs?  It’s like we’re going to evaluate what he says and make sure he’s telling us the truth, but the only truth here is that this guy could tell us almost anything and we’d just have to sit there nodding our heads like we approve of what he’s telling us.  Basically, when you go to the mechanic, the agreement is that you give them an exorbitant amount of cash and they make your car work again.  It’s really that simple.  If you expect anything more, like to be treated fairly or to understand the value of the work they’ve done compared to the amount of money you paid them, you are in for major disappointment.  Next time, just walk in and pay the bill, and when they start blabbing to you about how they repaired the “nuclear quantiplexer valve” just tell them to shut up.  Save them the trouble and potential guilt involved in having to lie to you.</p> <p><em>“Are you mad at me?”</em></p> <p>Yes I am.  If you are asking this, it’s either because a) the person you are asking is visibly angry, in which case you already have your answer, or b) you have done something that would, under normal circumstances, tick a person off.  Don’t bother asking.  Now for you ladies out there – sometimes you ask your man this question prematurely when nothing has happened and he’s not visibly angry.  The answer is still “yes” though, because if he wasn’t mad at you before you asked this question, he’s mad at you now for asking it for like the 1 millionth freaking time.  If you want to make sure he’s not mad at you without having to repeatedly ask, just get him a bowl of ice cream anytime you’re not sure.  If for some reason he’s mad at you, he’ll forget all about it as he indulges in the tasty treat you served up (but be careful not to get crappy ice cream, that will just anger him further and will show that you don’t really care).  I know this sounds kind of shallow, and you’re probably wondering if guys are really this easy to satiate.  The answer to that question is also “yes”.  You could run over my cat with a tank and I’d forget about it within 30 seconds of your giving me a cool Transformer or a new Xbox360 game.</p> <p><em>“Have you ever tried Broccoli the way I fix it?”</em></p> <p>This question is irrelevant because Broccoli sucks no matter how it is prepared.  Don’t think for one minute that you have found some ancient secret that will negate the butt-tastic taste of this or any other of the vegetables that look like shrubbery or seaweed, because you have NOT.  There are some things that are universally true and there’s no way you can change them.  Country music will lower your IQ with it’s mind-numbingly stupid lyrics.  Stupid people will rubberneck and slow traffic on your side of the interstate for wrecks on the other side of the interstate.  Politicians and lawyers will always be criminals.  And yes, your Broccoli sucks no matter what you do to it.  So don’t force your guests to lie to your face about how good it tastes…if you are going to serve it (and I don’t see why you would) just know that it tastes freaking awful!  Oh, and you can pretty much replace Broccoli with any other vegetable and this all still holds true.    </p> <p><em>Should the author of this blog continue to act like a crotchety, grumpy old fart or should he be more positive and uplifting?</em></p> <p>Well, I know which way is more fun for me, so…</p> <p><em>“Do I like it?  DO I LIKE IT?  WHAT THE HECK DO YOU THINK?  I don’t care how much molten cheese and ranch dressing you’ve dripped on that stuff, your ‘Spinach-wrapped Cauliflower Bundles’ are freaking terrible!  What are you doing serving this crap to me?  Are we even friends anymore?  What did I do to upset you to the point that you’d try to get me to eat bushes?  I need a tube of Pringles STAT!”</em></p> Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-3681231932676134652008-11-07T10:49:00.001-08:002008-11-07T10:49:26.885-08:00Incoming Text Message: You Suck<p>Texting – ok, I get that this is something many of you consider to be cool, and I’m a technology guy so I can appreciate it to an extent.  The problem is when technology and stupidity merge in an unholy matrimony of electrodes and brain farts, and no phenomenon demonstrates this better than people who obsess over cell phone texting.  </p> <p>I don’t know about you, but the thing I love the most about people who use their cell phones to text message is the OBNOXIOUSLY ANNOYING and INCESSANT stream of beeps and noises that are produced each and every time they receive a text!  Exactly where do you people find these irritating ringtones at?  I wasn’t aware that the sounds of giant robots puking up badgers was available in 50 decibel format!  I didn’t know that you could obtain a 10 minute loop of the most irritating computer noises ever heard and have it play each time your idiot friend sends you a text to let you know about the most mundane events of his life (“I jst exhaled, getN ready <a href="http://www.lingo2word.com/lingodetail.php?WrdID=11807">2</a> inhale now”)!  If you’re actively texting someone, you know you’re going to get a new message every 45 seconds…do we have to hear that INFERNAL racket each and every time it happens?  You don’t need to be notified at this point!  Turn that freaking noise off or risk having that flip-phone jammed sideways up your chute.  </p> <p>Oh, and please note that texting does not make you appear to be cool and sophisticated.  I say this because I think many of you who text message frequently are desperate for the entire world to know that you are texting and that you text and that some other person is sending you text messages and that you are responding to text messages and that they are funny and full of “OMG” moments.  You think that when we see you sitting there gawking wide-eyed at your miniscule telephone screen, mouth agape, giggling like a 5 year old, that we’re saying to ourselves, “Wow, this person must be VERY popular – everyone wants to talk to him/her every single minute of their lives!  He/She is SOOOOO connected!”  But what we’re really thinking is that you’re not smart enough to realize that the object you’re receiving text messages on is capable of making ACTUAL PHONE CALLS during which you could talk with your voice to the person you wish to communicate with!  We’re wondering why you’d rather spend countless minutes typing barely comprehensible fragments of thought (“OMG u have to IM me L8R u will not bleev what Kevin jus did!”) on a keyboard that’s roughly the size of a bubble gum wrapper instead of just calling them.  Just stop rolling around in your chair faking fits of laughter and making all sorts of over the top facial expressions designed to get our attention and just type your stupid nonsensical message in quiet.        </p> <p>Perhaps the worst offense cell phone “texties” commit is when they start keying in stuff right in the middle of a conversation they’re having with you.  If you and I are talking and I suddenly pull out a book and start reading it while pretending to still pay attention to you, wouldn’t you be a bit upset?  What sort of message would my actions send to you?  That you bore me more  than watching elderly snails race uphill with ankle weights on?  The thing is, you disrespectfully interrupt a conversation with a living, breathing person who’s right in front of you so that you can respond to your BFF who’s just texted you with the life altering news that she’s going to go pour herself a diet Coke.  It’s like you think that since you’re not actually talking on the phone it’s not interrupting anyone because it’s not a real conversation with a real person.  You’re just texting, right?  Wrong.  It’s rude, it’s stupid and you need to be pushed into a vat of steaming hot mustard greens for doing it.    </p> <p><em>I deffo nd 2 gt d "Roomful of Screaming Babies" rngtone so dat IL B sure 2no wen u txt me!</em></p> <p><em>(Check out <a title="http://www.lingo2word.com/translate.php" href="http://www.lingo2word.com/translate.php">http://www.lingo2word.com/translate.php</a> for a translator that will help you understand and communicate with your text message obsessed buddies!)</em></p> Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-75614753119140484092008-04-10T10:12:00.001-07:002008-04-10T10:12:56.935-07:00Faking The Blog<p>Ever find yourself needing to do a blog post but not knowing what to write? Here are a few tried and true methods for "faking" it!</p> <p><strong>The "Look at My Pictures" Post</strong></p> <p>Ah yes, the classic lazy-man's blog of choice! Here, you post a bunch of pictures and make a small comment on each...this gives the illusion of a large blog due to all the space your pictures take up, but you don't actually have to say anything except for a few words under each picture like "Cute, ain't they?" or "Look at how goofy (insert name here) looks! Ha!" It's not that posting pictures is lame...I like looking at pictures...but don't try to call it a meaningful blog post. That's like rolling a piece of bread through a pile of sugar and calling it a cookie. And hey, can we at least make sure the pictures are something that the average person would find interesting? No one wants to see time-lapse photographs of your cat staring at a spot on the wall while you virtually giggle at it by typing "LOL" over and over. No one wants to see 45 pictures of a blade of grass with dew on it and your one-liner about how it's just like the way we should love one another. And NO, no one wants to see 12 different poses of you holding a paintbrush as you prepare to put a coat on your new house, especially if you're all sweaty and nappy looking. If you are on week 4 of your blog series entitled "Watching My Tomatoes Grow", realize that the Internet sucks because of people like you. </p> <p><strong>The "Which 'Lost' TV star are you?" Post</strong></p> <p>These blogs require even less effort than the "Picture Post" blogs, and also make a lame attempt at providing some sort of personal benefit to your readers. Here, you post some sort of quiz or poll asking your reader to choose which type of candy bar they most resemble, and in doing so you hope to provide them some deep insights into their psyche. Yes, that's right...deep insight into a person's psyche based on the results of a quiz that they take...on your blog...in about 2 minutes. This idea is not only lazy, but also troubling...that people would seek life advice from you, an untrained blogger who has demonstrated that they are too lazy to even do a worthwhile post is unsettling at best. I can see someone breaking up with their girlfriend because "I'm an Apple Pie and you are not an Ice Cream...no way this relationship can last." </p> <p><strong>The "Plagiarism Post" Post</strong></p> <p>Some people cannot do a blog without posting something meaningful...but what do you do on days when you either a) don't feel like typing something long and meaningful or b) don't have anything meaningful to say and are in such a foul mood that you'd punch a baby puppy (see <a href="http://sillymomma99.blogspot.com/">Alli's blog</a> for a nice selection of puppies to choose from) if you could? Never fear! There are plenty of other blogs out there that have deep insights...all you have to do is go cut and paste their thoughts into your own blog and post that instead! Never mind that the purpose for having your own blog is so that YOU can share your OWN thoughts - and hey, if you look enough maybe you can find a four or five part series so that you can milk it for more than one post! What a freaking cheater!</p> <p><strong>The "Video / Slide Show" Post</strong></p> <p>This type of post is the absolute minimum a person can do and still call it a blog. It won't have any content in it whatsoever outside of a stupidly not-funny YouTube video of a comedian talking about spatulas or a slide show containing 57 pictures of your kids eating dinner. Each picture will have a small caption to it describing to us what we are seeing - "Little Carter eats a piece of cake!" Like we couldn't figure that out without the caption...like we'd look at the picture of your kid eating cake and go, "OMG! What in the hell is that kid doing? What is that strange material he's putting into his mouth?" </p> <p><strong><strike>The "Fake Blogs Suck" Post</strike></strong></p> <p><strike>In this post, you poke fun at everyone else's lame attempts to fake a blog post while you do the same thing. You try to appear funny and disgruntled, hoping your readers will not catch on to the fact that you are basically writing a "fake" blog on fake blogs. It's probably ok since you have approximately 5 hits per year and since no one likes you. You are so lame. What the heck were you even thinking? You should delete this blog before...no that's the "publish" button not the "delete" button you dolt! Now everyone is going to know what you did! Idiot! Stop typing now...stop...STOP!!!</strike></p> <p><em>"Did you do that quiz on Jamie's blog? It says I'm a "middle finger", which means that I have a knack for showing people exactly how I feel! I'm not too happy about it, but at least I'm not one of those gold-digging "ring fingers"...or a "thumb"...cause you know what they always say...'WHY ARE YOU JUST SITTING AROUND WITH YOUR THUMB UP YOUR BUTT?' Yeah...it would suck to be that guy."</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-11729756253967831442008-03-31T08:22:00.001-07:002008-03-31T08:23:52.626-07:00If I had my own radio show...<p><em>Hello, yes, this is Ken and I'm a first time caller, I love your show..it's absolute genius. I wanted to ask what kind of salad I should order with my meal when I eat out? I want to make the most of my meal, but am unsure whether I should get the house salad, the Caesar salad or that other weird one with feta cheese?</em></p> <p>Ken, I'll be honest with you here...skip the freaking salad. I never, ever eat salad with my meal. Why? Because I'm treating myself to something nice, and a bunch of lettuce is not my idea of something fun and enjoyable. Save room in your gut for the food that counts! Think about it...the chef spends a lot of time preparing the main course, the desserts, and other appetizers. He does this so they'll taste perfect and provide enjoyment. Know how much time they spend cooking the lettuce, or those little sliced up carrot pieces? ZERO. How many times do people leave their main course unfinished because they have a belly full of lemon-zested grass clippings? The bottom line is, salads suck and you should not be wasting valuable stomach real estate on them. Next.</p> <p><em>Hi, my name is Brian, and I was wondering if you could tell me why Wednesday is called "Hump Day"? I've never quite understood that one. I'll hang up and listen.</em></p> <p>I'm not sure if this is a serious question Brian, because anyone with more than 5 brain cells understands why it's called that. For the sake of those with an IQ greater than sand, I'll take the opportunity you've afforded us with your idiotic question and ask something that's actually interesting: who came up with the spelling of the word "Wednesday"? Take note of the way it's spelled, and then consider how we all pronounce it - "Wense-day". Based on the spelling, shouldn't it be pronounced "Wed-nes-day"? What the heck happens to the "d" in there? And you know how I feel about <a href="http://jeremyconner.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-hate-potpouriithere-i-said-it.html" target="_blank"><u>potpourri</u></a>. Next.</p> <p><em>Yo J! Whut it be! Yo show is kickin' bro! This be Sean G. up in da hizz-ouse, and I be</em>...(click)</p> <p>Freaking moron. Next.</p> <p><em>Hi Jeremy, this is Jen. I think you are the smartest man alive and I want you to have my babies. I was wondering if you could give me some advice regarding a friend of mine who always smells really bad. Should I tell them? How should I deal with this situation?</em></p> <p>Sorry Jen, I'm spoken for. Back to your question, this is a tricky situation because most people are not stable enough to hear from trusted friend that they are kickin' like a Bruce Lee movie. If you can tell them, great...they'll appreciate it like crazy once they're done being mad at you. Regardless, one thing you must do is make sure you keep your distance from them in social settings - the reason for this is that you don't want other people to think that it's YOU that stinks! If you're sitting at the dinner table, and you're right next to your friend, and he/she smells so bad that it drifts past you and over to folks sitting on the other side of you, those folks might think that you're the stinky one! This is a case where you have to hang your friend out to dry and make sure everyone knows it's them and not you that is bringing the funk. Also, anytime you can, plan your activities to include things that would double as a bath of sorts...like swimming. Next.</p> <p><em>Yeah this is Tony from Boston, love da show. Last night I was watching "Let's Make a Deal" and wondered if you saw the part wh</em>... (click) </p> <p>How about you and I make a deal right now...you agree to stop watching retarded game shows that waste valuable prime-time TV spots where inbreeders win lots of cash based on nothing more than dumb luck and I'll agree to stop pushing you into oncoming traffic. Some of these shows are so freaking stupid! "Hey moron...push the flashing red button and see if you instantly win money! While the wheel spins I'll ridicule you and we'll all get a good laugh out of your desperation...all that and more tonight on HEY AMERICA, JUST HOW STUPID ARE YOU."</p> <p>We're all out of time folks...for those of you stuck on hold, sucks to be you.</p> <p><em>Tune in tomorrow, when my guest will be that British chick who wrote all the Harry Potter books. We're going to find out once and for all what happens to the little #!^%&* and when it's going to happen, because frankly I'm sick and tired of it all. If I see one more stupid freaking Harry Potter advertisement I'll go postal. "Harry Potter and the Story That Wouldn't Freaking End", "Harry Potter and the Beating of a Dead Horse", "Harry Potter and the Marketing Campaign from Hell"...give me a FREAKING BREAK ALREADY! If he's such a powerful wizard, why doesn't he break that wand off in someone and be done with it? All he does is wander around looking at me with those big ole' goofy looking eyeballs of his, getting his butt kicked and spawning endless sequels. I could beat Harry Potter down blindfolded with a Stuckey's Pecan Log for a wand. </em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-669589005604358562008-03-28T08:30:00.001-07:002008-03-28T08:30:35.044-07:00This here songs gonna' be a hit!<p>Want to make it big in the "Kuntry Muzak" industry? It's easy...all you have to do is use the following "Kuntry Muzak" generator and you too can be huge amongst the legions of the inbred! </p> <p>First, we need to select the subject of your song. Do you want your song to be about:</p> <ol> <li>Long lost love interests who spurned you for another</li> <li>Details about your personal problems that no one but you cares about</li> <li>Trucks</li> <li>Redneck "sports" - the rodeo, NASCAR, or professional "fishin" or "bowlin"</li> <li>Incorrectly spelled words that have significant meaning in your life ("I'm in L-U-V with a capital "U")</li></ol> <p>Now that you have chosen this, we need to decide who this important song will feature as the main character. Your song will feature...</p> <ol> <li>Your mamma</li> <li>Your dawg</li> <li>Your Mossburg 30 aught 5 dual load jackspread tight-bore deer rifle that you cherish more than your firstborn son</li> <li>Your 52 Ford (no Kuntry boy would dare drive one of them' Chevy's)</li> <li>Your wife/girlfriend/saturday night special</li></ol> <p>Ok, now what ails you?</p> <ol> <li>The character I chose above has abandoned me (the "done left me" syndrome)</li> <li>The character I chose above drives me to alcoholism ("they done drove me ta drank")</li> <li>The character above corresponded with me after many years ("Well I'll be...lookie here...I done got a letter from Suzie May! I ain't seen her since the rodeo prom...")</li> <li>The character above caused marital problems ("done got busted cheatin...'")</li> <li>The character above was destroyed or died ("they done kicked the buckit...")</li></ol> <p>And finally, what sort of unrelated event will you related to this? </p> <ol> <li>This is just like the time "mamma burned my biscuits and overcooked my grits..."</li> <li>This is just like the time "I fell over a fence and skuffed my boots..."</li> <li>This is just like the time "I saw this coon chasin' an acorn..."</li> <li>This is just like the time "Ricky Bobby Jack-Ray won the Daytona 500..."</li></ol> <p>Once you've answered all these questions, making a hit "Kuntry Muzak" song becomes as easy as...well, as easy as "Spittin' seeds in grandmaw's steel-toes". Here, let me demonstrate...this stupid, idiotic yet highly-likely-to-be-a-country-music-hit features abandonment, my mother, strange references to food and animals, and overtly stupid comparisons to unrelated events. I like to call it "Dixie Daydreamin' and Mamma's Bluejean Casserole"</p> <p> </p> <blockquote> <p><em>Well I remember the time...when mamma was 59</em></p> <p><em>She made me a ham sandwich.</em></p> <p><em>And I'll never forget how she burnt the bread...</em></p> <p><em>cause well ya know it made me sick.</em></p> <p><em>She said "Son don't you worry none"...you'll be all right soon.</em></p> <p><em>Now shut yer' hole and eat your grits, and don't forget yer spoon.</em></p> <p><em></em> </p> <p><em>Well mamma always did knew best, what her son did need.</em></p> <p><em>And now as I hold you in my arms, I see you're the one indeed.</em></p> <p><em>You're just like my mamma</em></p> <p><em>You're all I'll ever need.</em></p> <p><em>Yeah you're just like my mamma</em></p> <p><em>You're all I'll ever need.</em></p> <p><em></em> </p> <p><em>I know I've been bad to you</em></p> <p><em>and treated you like junk</em></p> <p><em>But just like a coon what done found a nut</em></p> <p><em>I'll love you like a skunk</em></p> <p><em>Cause one thang my mamma taught me</em></p> <p><em>You never do give up</em></p> <p><em>Even though you burned that bread</em></p> <p><em>The sandwich is still good enough</em></p> <p><em></em> </p> <p><em>Well mama always did knew best, what her son did need.</em></p> <p><em>And doin' the boot-skoot-buggy with you, I see you're what I need</em></p> <p><em>You're look like my mamma</em></p> <p><em>And that's all I'll ever need.</em></p> <p><em>You smell like mamma</em></p> <p><em>You're all I'll ever need.</em></p> <p><em></em> </p> <p><em>Yeah, you're just like mamma...</em></p> <p><em>...and mamma is all I'll....</em></p> <p><em>....NEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDD!</em></p></blockquote> <p><em></em> </p> <p>Now if you're thinking that this song is far too stupid to ever be a big hit in the world of "Kuntry Muzak"...well, think again. This song is pretty sane compared to some of the absolute TRASH they've sold. It's a stupid genre of music and it needs to die a slow, painful death.</p><em>If you haven't guessed it already, I FREAKING HATE COUNTRY MUSIC. Feel free to make your own song and post it in my comments section...if we get enough, we'll create an album called "This Crap Sucks" and make millions in Nashville.</em>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-44479693815025804272008-03-10T12:07:00.001-07:002008-03-10T12:37:25.260-07:00Time with my son.<p>When in the world is this flu junk going to go away? It's been like 2,831 days and the entire population is still sick - what the heck? What kind of mutant strain is this? What kind of crappy scientific and medical services do we have at our disposal that we can't do something about it? We're spending too much time studying the mating habits of bugs and not enough time making my life less painful. </p> <p>My daughter is the latest victim, and I stayed home most of this past week to take care of my one-and-a-half year old son, hoping that keeping the kids apart would keep him from catching it. (which, praise God, he did not). </p> <p>My son Logan likes to wake up at the toe-stubbingly dark hour of 5am every morning. He's like an evil rooster or something, because as soon as he gains consciousness he starts screaming his head off...and it's usually before the sun comes up. Perhaps he secretly delights in the misery of others, or maybe he just likes to get an early start on destroying everything of value in our house. Regardless, he wakes up each day at around 5am and does not go back down until 8pm that night. </p> <p>This makes for a pretty long day, especially when the FREAKING TV BREAKS! Usually as a parent you can get some small breaks during the day by giving them a popsicle to drip on your furniture and plopping them down to watch some new-fangled show on Nickelodeon (What is up with kids shows these days? They're like a permanent acid trip...they'll have a blind dog with 5 ears dressed up in a cowboy outfit called "Mr. KadoozleFoozleFlam" rapping and battling alien cats and talking about having clean teeth and gums for like 45 minutes). But with the TV out of commission, the entire day consisted of constant, never-ending pleas from Logan for me to "play" with him (which consists of him throwing solid metal Hot Wheels at my face and treating my manhood like a trampoline). </p> <p>Now I don't care how good of a parent you are or how much you love your children - after a while you need a change of pace. I finally decided we needed to find something else to do. </p> <p>I thought we'd have a snack, and normally this would be fine...but the boredom and sleep deprivation and sore body parts had begun to affect my judgment. I grabbed a chocolate pudding cup out of the fridge, and as I was headed to the drawer to get a spoon, I spotted a can of neglected Pringles potato chips on the counter. I thought to myself "Hey, I like stuff that's both sweet and salty...why not dip my Pringles in the pudding! It'll be like chocolate covered pretzels!" Logan momentarily stopped wailing on the cat to see what I was doing, and I think he was as surprised as I was. Needless to say, it didn't turn out quite like I had hoped. The chips busted inside the pudding cup and what I was able to get out didn't taste all that great. I offered my son a bite, but he waved it away and told me "na-na-na-na-na" which is his way of saying "You can take that <em>thing</em> and shove it straight up your (baby curse word)"</p> <p>The bad ideas continued...later on, he was playing with a small "laptop computer" toy that plays music. For some reason, I thought it would be cute to teach him a little dance. Now those of you who know me personally know that I DO NOT DANCE. EVER. I have plenty of rhythm, but it's like my legs are made of overcooked Rigatoni and can't move properly. Anyway, we came up with a new dance called "The Lock" which is where you lift both your hands straight out in front of you and twist your wrists and hands back and forth like you're turning a key in a lock, and while you do this you have to squat down and then back up repeatedly. As I watched my son do this dance over and over for the next 47.3 hours, I asked myself how badly he'd berate me after the first time he did this in front of a prospective girlfriend, thinking "Hey, my dad is a cool guy...no way he'd show me something unless it was totally rad!" I grabbed his hands and tried to stop him from dancing, but it was no use...my son loved doing "The Lock" and would not be deterred by anyone or anything. He simply pulled his hands free while shouting "na-na-na-na-na".</p> <p>Then there was the time when I gave him on of my nephew's "lightsabers" to play with. These things are basically plastic extendable baseball bats, and when my nephew (age 11, complete Star Wars nut) comes over we have duels with them. Now there's nothing my son loves doing more than hitting people with stuff and watching their subsequent pained reactions, so these lightsabers were right up his alley. I decided to let him play with one, and we spent a little while smacking them together. And yeah, it was cute and all to hear him go "bam" when they knocked together...but after a while I wanted to take a break from playing and this unfortunately did not coincide with the young master's wishes. I spent the next two hours being savagely beaten every time he wandered through the kitchen. "LOGAN! GIVE DADDY THAT LIGHTSABER!" "Na-na-na-na-na..."</p> <p>I bet when you read the title of this blog you thought I was going to get all sentimental. "na-na-na-na-na."</p> <p><em>On a totally unrelated matter, what the heck is up with the weather here in Alabama? Saturday it snows and it's cold enough for the snow to stick...and then on Sunday it's almost 70 degrees outside? COME ON! Can't we at least get some consistency? The weather always sucks down here, but can't it at least suck in some sort of organized fashion so we can plan our lives around it?</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-81272737525859179632008-02-28T12:15:00.001-08:002008-02-28T12:16:48.989-08:00Life lessons, lucky day style<p>Always bring your own pen into the doctor's office, because you never know what sort of festering ooze the guy before you transmitted to that pen-on-a-string at the sign-in desk. The last thing you want to do is grab hold of something that every single patient in a doctor's office has touched.</p> <p>Your party guests WILL be disappointed when you serve them "Dr. Fizz" or "Lime-n-ade" instead of real "Dr. Pepper" or "Sprite". Considering the savings you'll reap on making these "smart" purchases will end up totaling no more than 32 cents, it's really not worth going this route. And to deflect some common objections that are usually raised here - no, they don't taste just as good as the original...yes, people will notice the difference...and yes, you will get made fun of when you're not around. </p> <p>You don't have to wear socks that match. This is a marketing ploy by sock manufacturers who know that you will lose socks over time - they hope you'll simply quit wearing the sock who's partner has been lost and go out and buy more. Newsflash: we wear shoes in this country. No one will ever see what your socks look like, and they certainly will not be able to see if you have the same number of stripes on each leg. Fight the power! (the sock manufacturer power, that is...say no to "Big Sock").</p> <p>It is a well-known and accepted truth that deviled eggs suck. They look like someone cut a bunch of eggs in half and then puked in them. They smell like caramelized skunk butt on a hot summer's day. They are not appealing in any way. Don't make them, don't serve them, and if anyone happens to accidentally consume one of them don't ask them how they taste because they're probably struggling to keep from "ralphing" all over the place. </p> <p>If you ask for someone's opinion on a new outfit, and they tell you that it's "different", don't ask them for clarification as to whether it's "different good" or "different bad" because regardless of what they tell you the true answer is, "different in the sense that it looks like you stole it off the back of a blind biker clown with a tendency to dress in drag and a perspiration problem." Just walk away while the meaning is still ambiguous.</p> <p>It might sound like a good idea to dump an entire bowl of Cocoa Krispies cereal into your bowl of ice cream in an attempt to have a chocolaty, crunchy treat...but the Krispies get soggy faster than you think and it ends up being a disaster. Try crunchy peanut butter instead! </p> <p>The best way to avoid getting in trouble when your boss walks by and catches you sleeping with your head on your desk is to raise your head up slowly while saying, <em>"...in Jesus' name I pray...Amen</em>." (please note that this won't work if you have the moral fiber of a 5th generation pirate...then he wouldn't buy that you were actually praying)</p> <p>Always give the pizza delivery guy a good tip, because he spends 20-30 minutes alone with your food each time he brings it to you. You do not want a guy with that kind of access upset with you. Plus, he's more than likely depressed, underpaid, struggling with severe hormonal imbalances common amongst teenagers, and staving off a skin breakout - and it just so happens that he also knows <em>exactly</em> where you live.</p> <p><em>Boy, these deviled eggs sure are "different"...I'll hold off eating any for now to make sure all the other guests get some first. Plus I'm feeling kind of bloated right now after drinking all that "Mountain Doo"... </em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-40191314685576288992008-02-26T11:56:00.001-08:002008-02-26T11:56:37.546-08:00You might not have thought of this...<p>If you had a relative living with you in your house that behaved like your cat behaves, you'd kick them out in no time flat. You'd never accept another human being mooching off of you, having you wait on them hand and foot...letting them tear your stuff up, puke up partially-eaten ribbons and strings in places you don't discover until you step in them...pooping in all the dark corners of your house. Yet somehow this behavior is ok as long as it's a cat that's doing it.</p> <p>Last night at my house, a friend of mine ate a bunch of "organic" jellybeans that she had bought from some do-gooder health-conscious hippy store. Several hours later she was in the hospital with a slew of strange symptoms and an incredibly painful migraine. Folks, let this be a lesson to us all! Trying to make healthy candy goes against the very laws of nature! Candy is not supposed to be good for you, and attempts to make it healthy only end up hurting us all. The bottom line is this - you cannot be healthy AND eat stuff that tastes good. You have to choose one or the other. If you try to straddle the fence and do both, you find yourself shopping in these "organic" food stores full of stuff most goats won't eat. These stores sell things like "hamburgers" that contain nothing more than celery stalks and tree bark. They tell you that coffee will kill you, but will sell you some ancient beet root that contains one thousands times the caffeine you'd get if you funneled "Grande Extra Latte Mucho Biggo Cuppo" cappuccinos at Starbucks. The "pharmacy" in these places is run by some guy who graduated from the University of Nigeria with a degree in Advanced Sharecropping. Don't fall for this stuff! If you want to eat healthy stuff, eat real fruit and vegetables and be satisfied with your pansy ways. If you want to indulge like the rest of us, get some REAL jellybeans and stop eating ones made from bee pollen, ginger root (cause that's in every herbal remedy) and cancer-inducing fake sugar. </p> <p>Have you ever thought about the naming conventions behind some of the deodorants being sold today? I'll never understand why someone chose to name a deodorant "Speed Stick". What does speed have to do with underarm deodorant? Is the application of deodorant using their product much faster than what they used to do? Did you used to have to paint your deodorant on with a brush or something before "Speed Stick" came out? For those who aren't as much concerned with speed as they are with having a deodorant that has been properly aged, there's "Old Spice". I'm not sure what the appeal is supposed to be here - when we're talking about things we want to smell like, should the adjective "old" be a part of that conversation? Is this wine or anti-persperant? For you ladies who like to gossip, there's "Secret"...and personally I'm still waiting to hear what the "secret" is. Some of you will say, "The secret is that it's strong enough for a man but made for a woman!", but that CAN'T be the secret because they tell you that in their commercials! Everyone knows that! If that's what it is, they need to change the name from "Secret" to "Well-Known Marketing Fact". I really believe that years from now we'll find out this stuff is actually made from the toenails of innocent gerbils, cruelly slaughtered so you girls can have your precious little "secret". There's also a ladies deodorant called "Soft and Dri", which I guess keeps your armpits soft? I don't know about the rest of you guys, but nothing gets me hot like some soft, supple armpit. This is so....GRODY TO THE MAX! (dredging up old 80's slang - 150 points!) Caressing armpits sounds like something the French would do - is there that big of a demand for it over here? If a woman's armpits weren't soft, would anyone ever know about it? </p> <p>It's like Jerry Seinfeld once said, "Why do they call it Ovaltine? The container is round, the scoop is round, the glass is round...they should call it Roundtine." </p> <p><em>"Attention Nature's Foodmart shoppers! Today we have a two-for-one special on our Old Timer's brand of "KelpBurgers", made with 100% seaweed extract and, of course, ginger root! These diarrhea inducing sandwiches are sure to be a hit with your family, so buy some today and don't forget to stock up on our "WoodChips for Buttwipes" brand toilet paper as well!" </em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-4098632185905519712008-02-20T13:26:00.000-08:002008-02-20T13:32:59.979-08:00What to do with the flu?I've caught the flu bug that is ravaging the entire country. What the heck is there to do when you have the flu? Well, I'll tell you...<br /><br />You can see just how many blankets a human being can put on top of them while still feeling cold.<br /><br />While your fever is still kicking, you can hang around with lots of people you don't like very much.<br /><br />You can whimper a lot in hopes that people will give you free stuff and money.<br /><br />There's a lot more you can do, but I need to go curl up and die...since I'm sick, no more blogs this week. Sorry gang - I know many of you will be heartbroken and will live unfulfilled lives. I'll post a new poll tomorrow to give you something to do while I'm gone.<br /><br /><em>I feel too bad to put a funny little tag line down here. </em>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-28483851595419666252008-02-14T12:50:00.001-08:002008-02-14T12:50:16.307-08:00A trip to the salon!<p>My wife got her hair cut the other day and it got me thinking about the mysterious world of the hair salon. Most of us know very little about these places...well, except for the fact that they always have that weird smell in there, like someone's boiling a cat or something. </p> <p>When guys get their hair cut it's a very simple process. We head out for the nearest strip mall and go to some place with a name like "Great Looks" or "First Rate Hair Care". Once inside, we grab a sports magazine, sit in the barber's chair and say "Make my hair shorter than it is right now." Then we talk sports while the barber takes a pair of $10 clippers and shears us. The entire process takes approximately 4.3 minutes and costs $12. </p> <p>For you ladies, it's an entirely different ball game. </p> <p>The first thing you do is get out the phone book and begin calling "hair salons" to make an appointment. Most of these are located in malls or fancy spas, and they do not accept walk-in customers. The reason for this is poor math skills. You see, it takes a very long time to get your hair fixed up in these places...usually two hours at a minimum. However, when customers call to make appointments, they schedule them thirty minutes apart! Anyone with remedial math abilities can begin to perceive the problem here...it takes two hours to get a customer out of the salon, but you have new customers come in every thirty minutes. I'm not sure why they do this - it's like they all have short-term memory loss and think, "Yeah...it only takes about thirty minutes to do a dye job...tell her we can see her at 4:30." If your wife says she has a hair appointment at 5pm, what this means to you as a husband and father is that you are going to be putting the kids to bed solo. Her butt won't even touch the chair until 7pm. Incidentally, this is why you always see ladies who go to the same hair salon over and over again becoming good friends - what else are they going to do for hours and hours while they wait but talk to one another?</p> <p>It would be easy to say that they're just goofing off in there and that no haircut should take more than a few minutes, let alone hours, to complete. (in fact, if a barber spends more than 7 minutes working on a guy's hair, it's assumed he's trying to hit on you and you need to leave immediately)But if you've ever walked past one of these salons, you realize that there is a heck of a lot more going on in there. For guys, it's a simple cut...maybe a handful of gel in some cases. For the ladies, it's like they're trying to build a molecular separator in there. You'll see all sorts of complex, mysterious behavior going on. Some ladies will be seated underneath dome-shaped devices resembling old space helmets while all sorts of jets and steam and stuff rush out onto their hair. Some ladies will have portions of their hair wrapped in aluminum foil while goopy junk is globbed all over their head. Ladies with flat hair will use little miniature irons to make their hair curly, while other ladies with curly hair will use different irons to make theirs flat. Sometimes they go in with long hair and come out with short hair, which makes sense...but then other times a girl with short hair goes in and 3 hours later she comes back out and her hair is long! Hair that is brown becomes blond and vice-versa, and hair that is one solid color gets painted streaks put in it. This is no haircut - it's a science and art project. </p> <p>Now, I've written many profound things during my time in this blog...but the next sentence I write is perhaps the most profound truth I have ever unleashed on my audience.</p> <blockquote> <p>There is never a more dangerous time in a man's life than the first few moments of viewing your wife's hair after a salon visit. </p></blockquote> <p>One wrong word or strange look can cause her to burst into tears. She's been through a three hour gauntlet of alien technology and gelatinous goops, and the thought that she does not look dramatically different now than she did before she went in is more than she can bear. Rest assured, she will be intently studying your reaction, searching for any signs that you might not like her new hairdo. Every word you say will be parsed and analyzed, every pause and breath questioned. This is a critical point in your relationship with her - so here are a few tips to making sure you don't end up taking a heel to the back of the head:</p> <ul> <li>You must learn to stifle and hide your immediate reaction to her hair. Get into the habit of hiding your reaction so that you give yourself time to think about what you want to say to her...time to remind yourself that this haircut is as important as any issue you are currently facing in your life. Shocking and/or grimacing looks are not recommended.</li> <li>Sometimes she will come home and her hair will look EXACTLY THE SAME to you. This is not a trick - their hairstyles often contain minute differences that only someone who obsesses over them would notice. Be prepared for this and be ready to make many comments about how it DOES NOT look exactly the same. Tell her you couldn't recognize her without I.D.</li> <li>As you remember the above point that I just made, realize that saying her hair is "different" is not a good thing. You must notice that it's different, but you must not let this be something you say directly. "Wow, it sure looks different" translates to "What blind monkey butchered your hair?"</li> <li>She may tell you that she does not like her haircut and may try to get you to agree with her on this. THIS IS A TRICK. She really loves it - she's trying to make you think that since she doesn't like it, it's ok for you to be truthful and tell her that you really think it looks like she had her hair cut with a rusty spoon. Well it's not ok - in fact, never, ever say the haircut sucks or...you...will...die.</li></ul> <p>Fortunately for me, my wife's haircut turned out great and she looks incredible. I hope you guys have the same good fortune!</p> <p><em>"You want me to do what to your tips? Boy, we don't got none of that sissy-fied stuff goin' on up in here. Your options are a hair cut, a shorter hair cut or one of them fancy flat-top jobs. I got a old Windex bottle full of tap water that I'll spray your head with before I go to cuttin' it. Then you pay me and get out, and don't steal none of my magazines either."</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-86031416322504282872008-02-11T09:18:00.001-08:002008-02-11T09:18:53.465-08:00I might be losing it...<p>I find myself getting snippy with inanimate objects a lot lately. Like the other day, when I found myself scolding my daughter's Toy Story Woody doll about his incessant whining. I told him, "You'll never amount to anything if you keep that up. I want less whine and more work out of you. QUIT YOUR BABYCRYING AND GET SOMETHING DONE! OH, POOR BABY...ALL UPSET BECAUSE SOME BRAT KID WON'T PLAY WITH YOU ANYMORE...YOU GONNA LET THAT LITTLE JERK DICTATE HOW YOU LIVE YOUR LIFE? STOP IT WITH THE PITY PARTY AND GET BUSY LIVING! WHY CAN'T YOU BE MORE LIKE BUZZ?" </p> <p>If I have to go into an asylum or a mental ward, I hope I can be one of those guys that plays ping-pong all day....'cause ping-pong rules. It's fast, frenetic action and doesn't require sanity to play! I wonder if the name "ping-pong" was derived from the last names of two Asian guys who perhaps invented the game itself? One day Li-shu Ping and Wei Pong wanted to play tennis but it was raining outside, so they decided to create a miniature tennis court to play on inside Li-shu's garage right next to his rickshaw. Wei was like, "Ahh so, we sell this to rich white people who want social clout of playing tennis but who no like go outside." and the "ping-pong" table was born. </p> <p>Uhh...what am I writing here?</p> <p><em>"Yeah, yeah...we've all heard it before Buzz. You're a space ranger. Great. Where's the market for a skill set like that? You'll be out on the streets in a week with no place to go and no abilities that employers are looking for."</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-79217830820340810092008-02-08T07:41:00.001-08:002008-02-08T07:41:59.476-08:00As your president...<p>Yes, you heard it here first...I am officially throwing my hat in the ring for the presidency! Given the fact that both the republican and democratic nominees will absolutely suck this year, I figure why not start up a write-in campaign? After all, I have several qualities none of the other candidates have that I think would be beneficial, and you KNOW I'm going to tell the truth and tell you exactly where I stand on any given issue. Plus, unlike the candidates we have right now, I'm smart, have common sense, am not completely driven by the desire to have more power (not completely...although I'd like to have just enough power to make people who park their cars crooked and end up taking more than one parking space wear jellyfish jockstraps), and am not a complete jackweasel.</p> <p>And hey! Consider these insanely awesome promises I'll make to you!</p> <p>If elected, I will move to abolish the ability to custom order food at any drive-thru...this will speed up the process and will force all the special order morons to go inside. Imagine how much your life will change when you get back all that time you normally spend sitting in line at Burger King while some dullard tries to get "light mayo only" on his 2000 calorie Whopper. </p> <p>If elected, I will act quickly and decisively to enact legislation banning the airing of "Mentos" commercials on TV.</p> <p>If elected, I pledge to put an end to the practice of writing and selling those "Idiot's" books. If you are inclined to read books, you are likely not an idiot. Idiots avoid books like country music singers avoid meaning and depth in their songs...so littering the shelves of every bookstore with "The Idiot's Guide to Annoying the Mess Out of Your Neighbors Through Creative Landscape" is a meaningless waste of time and energy. </p> <p>If elected, I promise to move towards a vegetable-free society where none of us are forced to eat food that looks like shrubbery and has to be smothered in buckets of cheese just to be palatable. Our founding fathers did not suffer and struggle all those years just so that we could eek out a living...they wanted us to have the best kind of life possible. And folks, I cannot imagine a great life being one filled with the eating of mustard greens...</p> <p>If you elect me...I will make dairy companies produce only one kind of milk. No longer will you have to sort through all the varieties of vitamin-enriched, skimmed-low-fat free, uranium-infused milks. There will just be one kind, it will say "FREAKING MILK" on the label and you'll just grab it. Do you realize that they make milk now that has bacteria in it - on purpose? They are actually ADDING bacteria to our milk now. This isn't what America is all about!</p> <p>Write my name in on your ballot, and when I'm elected I'll invite all those who voted for me over to the White House for a HUGE party! </p> <p>I do need to find a running mate though...this is going to be tough because I need someone who can make me look good but who won't upstage me. I also want someone who will pummel anyone who disagrees with my policies. I'll begin accepting applications now, but if I were you I'd hurry because I know there will be a lot of interest in this position. The pay doesn't suck either.</p> <p><em>I don't care if I get elected or not, I'm still not going to wear a suit because suits suck and I don't like to do stuff that sucks.</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-36302498490473177832007-12-04T11:33:00.001-08:002007-12-04T11:33:07.509-08:00Luck sucks<p>A black cat crossing your path is unlucky - but only because it means that you probably are a cat owner, and as anyone who actually has cats will tell you this sucks. Say goodbye to your furniture because the little freaks will claw the mess out of it. Hope you enjoy having them desecrate your carpets with their poop, which often contains various household objects that you've been missing for quite some time because cats like to chew on stuff. Have fun getting hit up for thousands of dollars each year to make sure the cat, who lives inside your home, does not have some sort of disease that could KILL YOU.</p> <p>Breaking a mirror will cause you to have seven years of bad luck - but only because that's how long it will take you to get all the little shards of glass out of your carpet, and until you do you'll get stabbed in the foot repeatedly. </p> <p>Walking underneath a ladder is a certain sign of misfortune - but only because it reveals your own lack of intelligence. Someone as dumb as you is in for a long and painful life full of unpleasant surprises - not unlike the unpleasant surprise you'd receive if a large can of paint plummeted 25 feet and hit you directly on the head.</p> <p>Seeing the bride in her wedding dress is not a good thing - but only because it's a reminder to you that in just a few minutes, you're going to be committing yourself to spending a lifetime with someone ugly and mean. Do yourself a favor and do what I did - marry someone who's hot, funny and smart - and you can avoid this problem altogether. </p> <p>You wanna know how I know that people who believe in luck are gullible and stupid? The rabbit's foot. Don't tell me that this myth wasn't started by two smart people pulling a joke on one of their stupid friends...a friend so stupid that he'd actually believe that his life was going to be negatively impacted because he broke a mirror. I can just see it..."Hey Billy! There's a sure-fire way to remove that there bad luck curse off of you. All's you gotta do is...umm...go over there in the cabbage patch...naked...and catch little fluffball. Then, once you catch him, you, umm...cut his foot off! Yeah! You cut his foot off. And then you...uhh...attach it to your key chain! Then you take it with you wherever you go, and as long as you have Fluffball's little foot in your pocket you're safe." Then everywhere they went, the two friends would always ask Billy to go get something out of his car so that he'd have to take his keys out, thus allowing everyone else there to see the little stumpy rabbit's foot, and they'd all laugh. This has college fraternity prank written all over it. </p> <p>What the ignorant perceive as "bad luck" is in reality the "suck" factor of life rearing it's ugly head. Crappy stuff happens sometimes and there's nothing you can do about it. Deal with it. It's not some cosmic conspiracy to mess up your life because you did something trivially stupid...if it's any consolation to you, life treats the rest of us like crap as well. </p> <p><em>See a penny pick it up, and all day long you'll have good luck? What in the heck is a single, stinking penny going to do to change the outlook of my day? I can't buy anything with it, I probably picked up some rare disease just by touching it, and ultimately for every penny I pick up it means someone else lost a penny. </em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-39402757363043115322007-12-04T07:44:00.001-08:002007-12-04T07:44:53.623-08:00Kids wisdom<p>I'll have a regular, pessimistic, agitated, foul-mood inducing blog coming up later today or tomorrow, but I just had to share something that happened yesterday.</p> <p>My 5 year old daughter shares my sweet tooth, and one thing we both love are "Icees" (those sugary frosty things that come in coke or wild cherry flavors). I had mentioned to her that if she worked hard on her school work that morning that we'd get an "Icee" after lunch.</p> <p>We were in the car driving to lunch and my wife and I were both grumbling about the cost of some car repairs that we were facing. My daughter was in the back seat and wanted to know what we were talking about. Actually, she was DEMANDING to know what we were so frustrated about...so I began explaining to her that sometimes mommy and daddy talk about things and we don't tell her on purpose. I explained that often, the reason we don't tell her about them is because she's too young to understand what it is we are saying and why it's important.</p> <p>"For example, mommy and I are talking about how much money we will have to spend to get daddy's car fixed. It's a lot of money and we're not very happy that we'll have to spend money on my car that we would rather be spending on other things. We have to get the car fixed so daddy can go to work, but it's going to take a WHOLE LOT of money to get it fixed. We wished we could spend the money on other things, but we can't do that this time."</p> <p>"Oh"</p> <p>"Now, do you understand what mommy and daddy were talking about? Do you know what this means?"</p> <p>"Yeah", she said with a sigh..."it means I'm not getting an Icee today."</p> <p>For the record, we still got "Icees"...coke flavor.</p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-15313157795179474222007-11-15T10:58:00.001-08:002007-11-15T11:05:51.597-08:00Gangsta rap<img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8ibnNbDfYGzFvGoIVN6QnMwIGN8Jj1LvusJY5uh_FPweeS4Off0Dotpa_YibLFiPTG1waNtHkh1-aSsDf8tkNxezTJDaeiVzpmHMSO_J4ybTXl3HoOxC6tuifpPJKe5rFbKlwQ/s200/00041DF50002D51F0007CFFCFFFF.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133145028943605922" /><br /><Br><br /><br><br /><br><br /><Br><br /><br><br /><Br><br />I am so sick and tired of being glared at by these wanna-be tough guys every time I walk by the magazine rack. Can't I pick up a copy of "Woman's Day" magazine (I like the quizzes ok? I think I've been "emotionally distant" lately) without having some thug try to intimidate me via magazine cover? Yeah, you're a real tough guy staring menacingly at the camera in that lush studio during your photo shoot. Pass me a bottle of purified water and give me a freaking break you pretender! The "gangsta" rap lifestyle is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of, and the only thing rap music has to offer is the poor pronunciation of our language and the marginalizing of incredibly stupid behavior. </p><p>But since this is a million dollar industry, I figure that there are some of you who might want to become "gangstas" so you can cash in on the craze. Fortunately for you, my blog is here to help! You'll be happy to know that this lofty goal is well within your reach! </p><p>To be a hardcore "gangsta" rapper, you need to come up with a name so pointless and stupid that it will draw the attention of idiots like a bug light. This might seem daunting to you at first, because it takes a certain kind of dolt to think along these lines, but I'll give you a tried and true formula for doing it and soon you'll sound just as ridiculous as "50 Cent" or "Snoop Doggy Dog" or "Chingy". First, you'll need to find some sort of household object...it can be anything you see, like a spoon. Next, you need to select a letter of the alphabet, like the letter "B". Then, you need to select the name of an animal that sounds cool or tough...like "wolf". Finally, you need to select a term that denotes age or time in some way...something like "Daddy" or "Lil" or "Old". Once you have these terms picked out, you just put them together in random order and you can make all sorts of names! Using "spoon", "B", "Wolf" I was able to come up with the following: </p><ul><li>Spoony B</li><li>Wolf Daddy</li><li>Old Spoony</li><li>B-Wolf</li><li>Lil' Wolfy</li></ul><p>I think I'll go with Lil' Wolfy...yeah...sounds all "hiz-ot" (that's how unbelievably intelligent hip-hop artists say "hot") </p><p>It's not enough to just have a "gangsta" rap name - you also have to look as stupid as you sound! You can use the magazine cover above for guidance, but basically here's what you'll need. You need to get some pants that are no less than 10 sizes too big for you...you should have to pull these pants up at least once every 10 seconds (if this is not the case then you didn't buy pants big enough). Then you'll need to get either a basketball jersey or some sort of T-shirt extolling the virtues of smoking weed. If you really want to be tough, you can do as "Fiddy" did in the picture above and wear a bulletproof vest around so people think you are involved in constant gun battles all day. Then, and this is really important, you'll need two (2) layers of head covering. You'll need some sort of rag to tie around your head, and then you'll want to wear a baseball hat on top of that - but not correctly. The hat should appear as though it were placed on your head by a drunk clown having a seizure. </p><p>Oh, I almost forgot...you need to wear lots of "bling". "Bling" is the term "gangsta" rappers have coined for jewelry that's been created to look like it should be worn by a giant. Whereas a normal pendant would be the size of a penny and hang on a thin gold chain, a "bling" pendant is the size of a dinner plate, has your name engraved on it just underneath the caricature of some girl with an extremely large butt, and hangs from a chain that looks like it should have a boat anchor attached to it. There's a reason it has to be ridiculously big and extremely gaudy - a real "gansta" rapper MUST let people know that he/she has a lot of money. This is crucial, because when people see the way you are dressed and the way you talk and act, their first response will be to label you a poorly-dressed imbecile with no social skills and the vocabulary of a mossy rock. The job of the "bling" is to tell people, "Hey, I may look like Steve Urkel's retarded cousin, but I'm rich so I must not be as stupid as I look and sound" - basically a lie but we're not exactly dealing with a target audience full of geniuses either. Important note: your mouth is a great place for "bling" that should not be neglected! How cool would it be to have gold caps for my teeth with "Lil' Wolfy" engraved in them? How smokin' would that be? That's the...uhh..."shiznizzle" or something.</p><p>But hey, where rap really shines is in the deeply intellectual lyrics that these "gangstas" create. I mean, what good is a "gangsta" rapper without his "dope" lyrics? You're probably thinking to yourself, "I can't write lyrics like these rappers do...I've never experienced the gangster sort of life that they write about in their music!" Don't worry- neither have they. Can you make rhyming statements about what life would be like sitting around all day drinking low quality beer and inhaling copious amounts of marijuana while degrading women and taking shots at people passing by your front porch? Congratulations! You're a hip-hop artist! It's actually very easy to come up with rap lyrics once you are able to get yourself thinking like a person who has no intentions whatsoever of contributing one single positive thing to society or the world at large during their lifetime. You should also consider cursing a lot to earn yourself one of those adult content stickers on the CD as those tend to help sales quite a bit. </p><p>Boy, I sure am glad society is the steaming pile of waste that it is these days...otherwise, we wouldn't tolerate such absolute crap being produced and mass marketed. Without rap music, these "artists" would have no means of expressing their stupid, immature, vile viewpoints on millions of impressionable 13-year olds!</p><p><em>Here's hopin' some fool don't go get his gat and bust a cap on dis playa fo bustin' out such dope lyrics on da state of da rap game...you feel me dawg? You can't fade Lil' Wolfy!</em></p><p><em>Feel free to create your own "gangsta" name and post it in my comments section!</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-62488093037365791162007-11-08T08:17:00.001-08:002007-11-08T08:17:57.016-08:00Halloween Candy<p>After carefully reviewing the candy my daughter received this year from "Trick or Treat", I think it's time for a blog on the subject. </p> <p>"Tootsie Rolls" - I personally don't care for these candies because I think they taste like chocolate that's been dipped in warm sweat and then baked to the point that it's uncomfortably chewy, but I can at least understand why some people would like these, so giving the regular flavor of these is ok I guess. Where I have major problems is when I look in the bag and see FREAKING FRUIT FLAVORED "Tootsie Rolls". FRUIT FLAVORED!!! Again, here we go mixing pleasure and pain...we can't just have chocolate, oh no...we have to throw healthy stuff in there with it. Who wants candy that tastes like fruit? "Tootsie Rolls" are supposed to taste like chocolate, not bananas or blueberries. If I want bananas I'll eat a dang bowl of "Corn Flakes" (because that's the only way anyone EVER eats that "Corn Flakes, as it tastes so bland and boring that you literally have to put fruit in there so that your taste buds don't become confused and think you're eating the Styrofoam lid off of a beer cooler). Congratulations on making a mediocre candy much worse.</p> <p>Ok, seriously...what are "Dots" supposed to be? When you take them out of the box they are really dry and have some sort of powdery substance on them...but then when you put them in your mouth they get all slimy! It's like eating candy oysters. They really don't have much taste to them either. I think these might be the leftover slime from the gummy bear factory...any gummy stuff that doesn't get any sugar and flavoring on it gets molded and boxed up as "Dots". Plain and simple - these suck worse than an afternoon at a bluegrass festival. Do not give these out to anyone you even remotely care about.</p> <p>No candy presents quite the dilemma that "Whoppers" do. These little malted milk balls are definitely tasty, and they don't seem to fill you up much either, so you feel like you can eat about a hundred of them. They're like puffed air with chocolate goodness and angel wings. Later in the day though, you realize something about stuff that's "malted" - primarily, that it will cause you some intestinal discomfort through the production of copious amounts of gas. You probably didn't know about this, but that's why I'm here...to provide you with insights you normally wouldn't have on your own. (If you want proof, go get yourself a box of "Whoppers" and a chocolate malt, and then clear your schedule for that afternoon - oh, and I'd also recommend a fresh box of matches and a $50 gift card to the Yankee Candle store, get the "Caramel" scent and you'll be all set) So what do you do? Complicating this is the fact that, unless you've been to an extremely crappy neighborhood and have a sack full of Peach "Tootsie Rolls", you'll have plenty of other good candy to choose from that won't bloat you to the point that you float in the bathtub later that evening. Do you risk it? Is it worth it? I'll leave it up to you.</p> <p>It really bugs the heck out of me to see people giving out stuff other than candy on Halloween. Your kids go up to the door all excited, expecting some candy, and then some wisenheimer gives them a stinking toothbrush or an apple or some sort of herbal Vitamin-C lozenge. These hippy do-gooders need to be forcibly removed from our neighborhoods and our communities! How dare they force their healthy habits on our children! How dare they interfere with our night of sugar orgies and rotting enamel! My kid should come home with an aching belly, a shirt smeared with chocolate and preserved marshmallow guts, and a buzz that will require 2 or 3 Nyquil popsicles to beat down. When I dump that bag of candy out on the floor to sort through the loot and see a tube of AquaFresh toothpaste in there, my brain begins to smolder and burn and I begin to wonder how sweet it would be to jam that tube up your left nostril and squeeze it. I seethe with rage at the thought of you smugly sitting there, so happy with yourself that you've turned Trick Or Treat into some sort of crusade...what a freaking NERD! </p> <p>See you have to remember that it's all about the kids! When you're making your candy purchase, you need to consider them! Think about the disgust on their little faces when they get home and see that you chose to go with that sack of off-brand no-name candy just so you could save 20 cents. Think of the heartbreak when they reach in and pull out a poorly-packaged "John's Peanut Butter Cup" and choke it down. Think of the disappointment and frustration they'll feel when they see that you gave them some mint floss instead of candy. Think of the sadness they'll experience when they see that you decided to give out "Milk Duds" instead of any one of the fine "Hershey's" products. Don't be an absolute loser on Halloween - step it up and give out some good stuff.</p> <p><em>"I'd like to thank everyone for coming to today's meeting and...wait a second...where's Jeremy? He hasn't been at his desk all day and he's missed 2 other meetings!" </em></p> <p><em>"He's...umm...indisposed at the moment sir."</em></p> <p><em>"DARN IT I told him to go easy on those Whoppers...why do they even offer those in a 5 pound bag?"</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-61688740121518797172007-10-25T06:43:00.001-07:002007-10-25T06:45:16.573-07:00The doctor's office<p>I've been struggling for about 2 weeks now with some sort of sinus infection that's ravaging my body, and it never fails that when you get around people the first thing they'll say is "Why don't you go see the doctor?"</p> <p>Well, I'll tell you why...</p> <p>To begin with, I'm not sure I like the idea of actually having to go inside the doctor's office. The waiting room is basically like a large leper colony in which every sick person who's been to see the doctor that day has spent a great deal of time. You walk in and the first thing you have to do is figure out where you're going to sit. The way you do this is by looking at all the people in there and trying to decide which ones are the least sick and the least contagious. If you're lucky you can find a few people who are there because of broken bones or torn ligaments or pulled muscles - if you're not, you find yourself debating whether to sit next to the guy who's sweating profusely with a glazed over look in his eyes or the lady with a hacking cough who refuses to even attempt to cover her mouth. This is germ hell, and you are about to get a guided tour. I mean, the first thing you have to do to get in there is touch the door handle that every infected, disease-carrying sick person in the entire county has used that day. </p> <p>Maybe this is their attempt at guaranteeing themselves repeat business, because there's no way this is a healthy situation to be in. You go to the doctor for a sinus infection, but in order to see him you have to spend at least 2 hours sitting in a small, poorly-ventilated room with people who are on the verge of death from some rare plague. How is sitting next to someone with the flu going to help me get over my sinus infection? How can this be something a doctor would recommend? If I asked him whether or not I should go spend a few hours hanging out with a truckload of typhoid patients, he'd surely say no...but he has no problem with me chillin' in his waiting room for hours at a time amongst the living dead. </p> <p>Doctor's are always telling you to wash your hands, but what about the clothes you wear in the waiting room? I can tell you that as soon as I get home from the doctor's office, I immediately strip down and isolate the clothes I was wearing...I'll leave them someplace for at least a week so that any microscopic organisms die off...and only then will I wash them, by themselves, at least once and with the extra rinse cycle. </p> <p>When you go to put your name on the waiting list, the receptionist working there has to treat you like a brand new patient who looks like they'll leave without paying. How many times do you need to scan my freaking insurance card? It's plastic and it's laminated, so it's not like the information is changing all that much. They ask you on the sign-in sheet whether or not your insurance has changed, and you put "NO", and then they go "Sir I need to scan your insurance card." At this point, once they see that you've stated that your insurance information has not changed, and once they look at your card for the 35th time to verify that it has not changed, they...get you to fill out paperwork to give them your insurance information again! Sometimes I think they just throw that paperwork away and get you to fill it out each time to help make the hours you'll spend waiting to get treatment seem shorter. It's a way to make you waste time, which they specialize in.</p> <p>I'm not one to question the wisdom of my doctor, but is it really necessary for me to get an X-Ray every single visit? It seems like no matter what is wrong, they always want to see my skeletal system up close and personal. "Stuffy nose huh? We better X-Ray your entire body to see exactly what is going on here." "Sounds like you've sprained your ankle...but just to be sure lets get some X-Rays of your head and chest area." If I walk in and I've got snot dripping from my nose and sound like I've got an entire washcloth stuffed up each nostril, do you really need an X-Ray to determine what the problem is? THERE'S GREEN CRAP COMING OUT OF MY NOSE - MAYBE IT'S A FREAKING SINUS INFECTION YOU DOLT! But no...let's do a series of X-Rays just to make sure that it's actually snot and not radioactive material leaking from the nuclear core hidden in my brain that's only visible via a CAT scan.</p> <p>I long for the day when I can go to the pharmacy and buy antibiotics over the counter...</p> <p><em>"Well Mr. Conner, it appears that you are completely unable to breathe due to copious amounts of thick, nasty-looking mucous in your nasal passages. Just to be sure, I'd like to snake a tube up inside your colon and take a look around, and then assuming your paperwork is in order and the background check comes back ok I'll give you some medicine."</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-48003843523968312072007-10-15T12:53:00.001-07:002007-10-15T12:53:01.862-07:00Raw<p>For a variety of reasons, I'm really ticked off today. I've decided to just rant about stuff in this blog and label it "raw" because that's what musicians and producers do when they want to sell you something that's had zero preparation put into it. So after reading this, when you say to yourself "That blog sucked" just remember that it's "raw" and maybe you'll look at it differently and appreciate the behind-the-scenes look into the mind of the artist...or some crap like that. </p> <p>I am going to mount a 50 caliber machine gun to the rear of my car and blast the ever-loving daylights out of the next jackhole that tailgates me. I've never understood the logic of tailgating...you want the person in front of you to go faster, so you threaten to wreck their car to make a point? Do you freaking realize that if you rear-end someone that it's YOU who's at fault in that wreck and YOU who will have to pony up to fix the car and pay the medical bills and probably get your stupid self sued? I wonder how people like this are able to dress themselves in the morning without a detailed instruction manual containing pictures. I figure eliminating you from the gene pool will be doing everyone a favor and that you probably won't be missed.</p> <p>While I'm at it, I'm going to shoot everyone who has one of the following on their car:</p> <ul> <li>A sticker on their back window with their last name on it in that stupid looking edgy font. What is the point of this anyway? Are you under the delusion that people will recognize you and be like, "Ohh, there goes a member of the Estevez family - those guys are important!" If you're driving a jacked-up 88 Nissan Sentra with tinted windows and a spoiler you've pretty much relegated yourself to the bottom of the societal bin anyway...you would think you'd want to conceal your identity rather than announce it. </li> <li>A sticker that says "Come to the dark side...we have cookies" You're not going to want to eat those cookies after you see where I'm going to jam them you little goth wanna-be. Don't you have a Widespread Panic concert to be attending? somewhere? If you're late they might not save you any smoke...</li> <li>Gold chains around your license plate, simply because this indicates how out of touch you are with the times and because I hate it enough to want to punish the behavior</li></ul> <p>Recently my company gave the employees an 11% bonus, which is awesome. When the check came, 40% of that money was taken by the government via taxes. That is not a typo...it was 40%, almost half of the money. </p> <p><strong>What the #$%^!@?</strong></p> <p>You greedy, unethical, power-hungry, ignorant, tyrannical windbag losers! Our government provides worse service than Hardees, but is so inefficient that it requires heaps of our money to do it. So we give tons and get jack squat in return...I won't even get anything out of social security once I retire because it'll be bankrupt! I promise you this, if I had it within my power to do so I would fire every single politician in this country right now and condemn them to live under the system they've burdened us with (you realize they have their own retirement plan right?). They should all receive the scorn of this entire nation for being such losers, but we're too busy worrying about ATM fees to realize the raping we get each time our checks come out. They tax my company when it makes the dollar, tax me when that dollar is paid to me, tax it again when it's spent and tax the company that makes it...and this goes on and on. Somewhere George Washington is rolling over in his freaking grave...</p> <p>I still don't feel any better after ranting...I'll have to go kick a puppy or something I guess.</p> <p><em>Please don't leave me comments like "Cheer up!" or "Smile!" - I hate feel good crap like that and it does not affect me one bit. If you really want to cheer me up, send me some cash.</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-26847276177361266172007-09-27T11:08:00.001-07:002007-09-27T11:09:55.767-07:00Oh, the memories we'll have!<p>My 5 yr. old daughter was goofing around instead of getting ready to go to church the other night when I told her that she needed to hustle up and get her shoes on or else she'd "miss the boat". She replied, "Daddy, we ride to church in a car. We don't have to take a boat!" Isn't that cute? Isn't it so cute when you're kids say things like that, especially when you are busting butt to leave and the baby is screaming and you can't find your keys? Isn't it so cute to have that little sweet voice correcting you in the midst of all that? And later when you find out that little dolly was playing with your keys and that's how they ended up in the bottom of the toy chest, don't you just want to give them a big 'ole squeeze? Isn't it adorable how they took a fat crayon and wrote all over the walls of your house because the 4, 587 sheets of blank paper they had weren't ideal enough to draw a stick-figure Blues Clues treasure hunt map on? Oh the memories we'll have of the time when the baby crapped himself so profusely that it spilled out of his diaper and into his car seat - I'll never forget the way he got it all over himself and almost made us puke and how we had to throw away the car seat and hose him down like he was the only known carrier of a fatal disease - so precious! And if only we could forever capture the feelings we had the moment our daughter informed us that "somehow" her slice of pizza ended up face down on the carpet and then she accidentally stepped on it. Who would ever want to experience life without having worked on your home printer for 3 hours before discovering the source of the problem to be a penny lodged in a spot that only a malicious little hand could have put it? </p> <p>Have you ever been at a friends house who had kids before you had kids yourself and experienced them changing a poop diaper? The smell will bring tears to your eyes and you'll be fighting your gag reflex like crazy, but then your friends will say "Ah, it will be different when it's your own kids. You won't mind it then." BULLCRAP. It stinks just as bad when it's your own kids! You could submerge my 1 year old in a submarine and you'd still be keenly aware of the moment he grunted. Yeah, I'll be sure to cherish the memory of those diapers for the rest of my life.</p> <p>And who can forget the wonderful moments you spend playing with your kids?</p> <p><em>"Daddy! Let's play the Princess and the mean Prince! You be the mean Prince and I'll be the Princess!"</em> </p> <p><em>"Ok, how do we play tha - "</em> </p> <p>(WHAM! "Disney Princess Ariel Magic Wand" to the left testicle...)</p> <p>Good times folks...good times!</p> <p><em>How is it that my kids can't manage to get their trash into the trash can, which has a huge opening, but yet never fail to smack me directly in the eye or across the jewels with any small, whip-like toys they own?</em></p> <p><em>Praise the Lord for my wonderful wife, who puts up with this sort of thing to a degree I cannot imagine so that my children can have a stay-at-home mom!</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-85632883378258712362007-07-27T07:20:00.001-07:002007-07-27T07:20:33.070-07:00Famous quotes - lucky day style<p>"A penny saved is <strike>a penny earned</strike> a complete waste of time because you can't buy anything with a penny."</p> <p>"Be prepared...for your day to suck major butt."</p> <p>"The early bird gets <strike>the worm</strike> bags under his eyes and a strong desire to nap during the 2 o'clock meeting."</p> <p>"Idle hands are <strike>the devil's workshop</strike> hands that are well-rested and have plenty of time to do stuff they actually enjoy doing"</p> <p>"A bird in the hand <strike>is better than two in the bush</strike> means someone needs to ask you, 'What in the heck are you doing holding a live bird in your hand?'"</p> <p>"A stitch in time saves nine." (Is there some hidden wisdom here that only sewing people understand? This sucks by virtue of it's obscurity and you should severely beat anyone who says this to you.)</p> <p>"Tis better to have loved and lost,<strike> than never to have loved at all</strike> that to have married an ugly mean girl with bad breath and a poodle. (Poodles suck, just trust me on this one)"</p> <p>"You'll never know until you try...just how bad of a failure you can be."</p> <p>"If at first you don't succeed, <strike>try try again</strike> you may need to consider the possibility that you're too stupid to accomplish what you have set out to accomplish. Realizing this can save you a lot of heartache and struggle, and many people are capable of living within the limits of their own stupidity and actually become quite comfortable there."</p> <p>"An apple a day <strike>keeps the doctor away</strike> means at least once a day you could be eating something much more tasty."</p> <p>"Every man dies - but not every man <strike>really lives</strike> does it quickly enough."</p> <p>"Give a man a fish, and you feed him for today. Teach a man to fish, and you have <strike>fed him for a lifetime</strike> hopefully conveyed the message that you're not going to support some lazy, out of work bum who wants to sponge off your hard work. If this loser wants fish, let him catch his own @!#% fish!"</p> <p>"It takes 47 facial muscles to frown and only 13 to smile...but a look of complete indifference doesn't require any facial movement at all and does just as good of a job of conveying the notion that you want the other person to go away."</p> <p><em>"I like rice. Rice is great if you're hungry and want 2000 of something." Mitch Hedberg (1968 - 2005)</em></p>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-34294772044727853632007-07-24T06:53:00.000-07:002007-07-24T07:09:46.977-07:00Teenage girl blog<img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Exmq45MUM4_0L9JDbNC1iZqVI2o-8CLOW6XSa4v75LjE-kvXnZ8LQI2_8RtKzg6mu9sxszbCS9k09nWGGX2sSx-h-FBu9vbR8mcAnCjzIj8M4aHTfL9PsVeAudgSAbuCIJ-fZQ/s200/New+Picture+(6).bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090761964443906402" />Currently Listening<br /><em>Light A Match</em><br />by Absolute Crap<br /><br><br /><br><br /><br><br /><br><br />OMG today totally sucked. I had a customer totally spill his coffee on me at work today and then this other guy wanted to pay with EXACT CHANGE!!! and not with a check card OMG that really sucked because I had to open the register and I totally don’t know how to do that. Ken the manager guy like so got on to me about it and said my attitude needed to improve well no way like what am I supposed to do be happy about having to count out change for some guy who’s like holding up the line? Everyone was pro’lly happy that I gave him a dirty look cause they had to wait on him and OMG he smelled so bad. I so thought I was going to throw up right there but I didn’t. My mom is not cool with me wearing this skirt she says it will make all the boys stear at me but Brandon totally digs it so I just put the skirt in my backpack and change into it when I got to work – hope my mom doesn’t come in to buy some coffee LOL! I've just got to get those pink sandals cause they will look SO CUTE! with this skirt and that purse is darling I want it too. Does Johnny really like me you think? He is so HAWT and so cute and he told me the other day that he might come over one time OMG can you beleeve it I would totally die if he did but in a good way. You should wear your hair up more it looks so good! Mr. Jenkins said if I talk anymore he's going to like call my parents or something chemistry class is SO BORING I'm like when is the bell going to ring or whatever so I can go to lunch already??? School is such a major pain except for boys. Well, GTG talk to you later. bye. <br /><br /><strong>Dance</strong><br /><br /><em>You know when you gotta go cause life is tough<br />They’re yelling at you ‘bout your hair and clothes and stuff<br />Well tell them to !#@%!@^% ‘cause you’ve had enough<br /><br />And Johnny looks at you and says, “Baby you ain’t right… <br />You’re stupid and ugly and I cheated on you with Julie last night…<br />…but I still love you and I don’t want to fight”<br /><br />Well you know what you gotta do…<br /><br />Dance…like you never danced before<br />Cause it’s your chance…to move it on the floor<br />For everyone to look at you and love you even more<br />Cause dancing will make it all right<br />Dancin’ on into the night</em>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19209107.post-74106348739050956792007-06-25T06:52:00.000-07:002007-06-25T07:11:08.547-07:00PicturesIn case you're wondering, their super power is the ability to permanently repel members of the opposite sex. I think that kid in the middle is damaged goods at this point...the look on his face is either one of absolute, life-scarring embarrassment or the result of not pooping for 4 days...and neither of those is all that great. <br /><br /><img style="margin:0 10px 10px 0;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXDNwYy4sl8OiHvempoyhqNgZDBLnmicuUL7GFV4uIsiLUPgKlZbFAvaF034ordvAVzVXXn8GeyzFfi05e61STU9g7hFIboWOReOO3bF6sZjRMfD1NRb3Mu2JU1Q0t_i-Zersy-Q/s320/super_dorks.jpg" border="0" alt="Star Trek Sucks" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079999968702164386" /><br /><br />Letting your hamster funnel twinkies is not good for his little heart. I bet the dust on his hamster wheel is so thick you could write your name in it. He's practically morphed into a tennis ball at this point!<br /><br /><img style="margin:0 10px 10px 0;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1rM-mtXKSoCm5XR4tlaP2b8P65CjDoqaboSDE96IjyNbtViZuYUkr2-Z33IYJ0zX59clECVvNXHw-vSm_guKBZQwHqpcXHYX-E7XvdbcuL_4srD9lHHvqIPMPtVvYU4GtlkSHxQ/s200/dumpling.jpg" border="0" alt="Fatty McHamsterson"id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080000475508305330" /><br /><br />The frightening thing about this next picture is that this guy looked at himself in a mirror and was happy enough with the way he looked to go out in public. He actually LIKES his haircut and thinks he looks good. Notice the old lady getting mugged in the background...heaven forbid this guy jump in and help - he's too busy trying to get a picture of a pair of squirrels mating. <br /><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6kIk7xKnnbIcJOa1Cd36oc5w99BDgWfVKxfySjQRVT13T20DFkuEhTBEQgy8Ed-vFN0z9OHrb13D9aEvA4z-pHOkT-BHoR-ktzyYDJb0E7TfJHxqC-ru8ipNiQMBBjhzIBL14tw/s200/mullet.jpg" border="0" alt="Mulletz R Awesum!"id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080001188472876482" /><br /><br />I may not have told you this before, but I strongly suggest avoiding confrontations with ninjas. (in case you can't make it out, this move is called "Monkey Steals the Peach"...ninjas are so awesome that even their "de-balling" techniques are both incredibly cool and extremely painful. I'm not all that pumped about my "peaches" being in the clutches of a trained killer, so whatever Mr. Ninja wants, Mr. Ninja gets.)<br /><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOTRQNSBXIwNbkPYc5thX_tUxDAegN9i9dEbqBVb3kozeR25SQmz7jj1xVu-cI9_uuMDL6pkqEYHILFnv3_0khThWvUmyvnt7YTvv5JutKE5AdX9ZF6whdhHwGdIEnt6PpEkBYA/s320/monkey_steals_peach.w492.jpg" border="0" alt="MY NADS! LET GO OF MY NADS!" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080002013106597346" /><br /><br />Here below we find one of society's elite, the "upper crust" if you will, enjoying an afternoon of watching cars make left turns. This guy is killing the national IQ average...he's the reason we're only scoring slightly above primates. NASCAR draws those lacking intelligence in like a bug light on the back porch of a trailer up on cinder blocks...the easily confused simply cannot resist it's "charm". They may not understand math or science or the simple rules of grammar and spelling, but they seem to be able to understand that the shiny little cars go round and round and that this is a good thing. The bright colors keep their attention and the cars present them with familiar product labels they can relate to (beer, snuff, lawn maintenance, cereal). The drivers all keep in mind that these fans need to be able to remember their names, so they use names that are familiar and simple ("Billy Jo Johnson", "Jimmy Billy", "Ricky Timmy") or start with the same letters ("Jimmy Jackson", "Ricky Red", "Kenny Kenson") or have some sort of childish innuendo to them ("Dick Trickle" - yes, this is an actual driver name, which I know may shock some of you, but it's true, you can't make up stuff like this) <br /><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh99lHREj4srNDEneA2K8Clc3ruCmqRGXtFE9ci79xNCX1L-VEJNkODwB8ZBaBSZ3Nw1QK92Ss7gSFMm09fp_nfYLJy7EYp24qjRPAqe0pHDnHjQEa5tfdmDTMEa0jfXxmb7ZmxA/s320/redneck_race_fan.jpg" border="0" alt="Rednecks Rule" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080002395358686706" /><br /><br />And now, the obligatory cute puppy picture...since it's the weekend and I don't want to leave on a sour note. Don't you just want to give her a big 'ole hug? Her name is "ginger"...or at least that's the name they gave her on that illegal dog-fighting site where I got the picture from. <br /><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBdkLYElv-acgV_eUdRMWm3M_4TBwy01syFqHHRuUHpP_JCgQKF2y5_-fE-c9RtBZ2fdJPoo1-XnNG0E0ytn3E6bVW_0lJb6sbfwAPTefquudVCug-9Ti4HEjDvptSHbVUdsmiUw/s320/ginger_shih_tzu_maltese_yorkshire_terrier_02.jpg" border="0" alt="No poopy on the floor Ginger!" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080002824855416322" /><br /><br /><em>Hamsters might be stupid pets, but they are light years ahead of goldfish. You can't do jack with a goldfish! Ever pet your goldfish? TOUCH THEM AND THEY DIE! Who wants a pet that dies when you show it affection?</em>Jeremy Connerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05238786872093753099noreply@blogger.com3