Friday, October 14, 2011

World's biggest rutabega gets the attention of world's biggest stoner

Oh, YouTube. Uniting horticulturists all over the world.

Getting knocked up gets easier

And you thought 1 foolish, beer-addled moment was all it took. Avoid the hangover and the uncomfortable "morning after" exchange of t-shirts with a free sperm donor.

Horrified as I was to read this article, it makes some sense. Although I'm still creeped out by a 40-year-old virgin that gets off on donating without the assistance of a sperm bank. Gay couples and the self-employed folks out there may be able to conceive after all, and with no financial fallout. Well, at least not before the child arrives.

Artificial insemination is expensive, as are fertility treatments, and not all insurance will cover those procedures. The sad part is that the FDA has intervened and is after the donors. The gentleman in the video below has been court ordered to stop the "cease the manufacture and distribution of sperm." (Personally, I'm not sure how that's possible...)

Read the article in Newsweek. It's very interesting.

WANT! Spherical panoramic camera

How cool is this?! Take photos from every conceivable angle at once. Christmas is coming, folks. Save your pennies...

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Damn cry baby

It's old news but still interesting. Apparently, one Richard Overton sued the Anheuser-Busch company for false advertising in 1991 because he couldn't bed the beautiful women in the commercials. He cited advertising that implies that one can do flips into a pool (without claims of potential injury) and subsequently impress attractive women.

People will sue over anything lately. Maybe I should sue Camel cigarettes for being so tasty. Or Miller Lite for not explaining that over-consumption of their products will give me a hangover. How about suing my job for stress, or suing the local supermarket for running out of the cheese I want (thus causing emotional distress and malnutrition)?

Our parents and their parents worked hard for what they wanted and weren't near as "suit-happy" as this generation. They weren't in this kind of massive debt, they didn't NEED the newest gadget, they made due with what they had available.

Calm the fuck down, and deal with it. Throw on your big boy/girl drawers and live like a decent human being. You know who you need to sue? The doctor that amputated the wrong foot. The dealership that knowingly sold you a car that would explode. The creator of the virus that stole your identity. The dumb, drunk bitch that totaled your ride. If you can't get ladies, don't waste the court's time. Get a self-help book and move on. It's much cheaper than legal fees.

FREE trip to Japan!

Apparently, Japan is hurting for tourist dollars. So, in an effort to drive (fly, whatever) traffic into the island nation, the Tourism Agency has proposed giving away 10,000 tickets to avid bloggers and social media users.

Hopefully, with 2 websites, 1 blog, 2 Facebook accounts with 1,400+ friends/likes, this girl is headed to Japan next April!

Monday, October 10, 2011

A bank for your MOST personal ASS-ets.

You keep your cash in a bank or in a box under your bed. One way or the other, your hard earned scratch is sacred to you.

So what about the VERY personal, although more easily amassed, fortune around your waistline? You heard me, what about your fat? If you're inclined to have your insulation sucked out of you at a premium, what happens to it? 

Now, there is a "bank" that holds your "Liquid Gold." Not the contents of your oil wells, the contents of your cottage cheese thighs and love handles. Should you ever need any squish back; say, for your lips, or butt, or whatever you've decided is sagging, it can be stored at The Bank of Fat.

If it's weird, it's in Florida.

Halloween is upon us

Aah, the one day of the year women can dress like sluts and children can take candy from strangers without any commentary from the peanut gallery.

Also the time of year we like to boost our adrenaline by engaging in "scary" activities: nighttime corn mazes, and haunted houses are making big bank for the next few weeks.

I don't go to haunted houses. Why? Because I'm the woman that covers her eyes at the movies when the music gets too ominous. I get physically ill in the wake of too much gore. (Cite: the super-speedy trip back to the house after a showing of "My Bloody Valentine 3D." Might have been the nachos, but pretty sure it was the blood.) I jump and "eep!" at every suspenseful turn. So, it stands to reason that I would not be willing to pee myself in public when someone jumps out at me from the dark with a chainsaw.

Is it a distaste for fear/lack of control, or some control-freak-i-ness that prevents me from screaming? Who cares. I'm not going to do it. Mostly because I don't want any photographic evidence of my intense fear.

Enjoy these photos of people getting scared into soiled drawers. And know that I will never be one of them.

If I had a nickel for every shred of fluff on my living room floor

I'd be an extremely rich woman. My pups are masters of destruction. Well, one is a master, the other goes along. Plush dog toys are expertly disemboweled in seconds around here. Rubber squeaky things are found in pieces in the yard a few days after they disappear (if you know what I mean, yuck). I even bought a $26 chew toy that had a video playing above it in the pet store of an adult tiger playing joyfully with it.

Me and my "smart" investment came home. I dropped it on the living room floor, went to use the restroom, and came back to find what was left of it strewn all over the house. Thank goodness for the "money back guarantee." I had to return it in two bags.

So this site makes me smile. It's good to know that mine aren't the only two pooches bent on total destruction. While my furniture is in largely good shape, I've got shoes that have seen better days, a few books that look more worn than they should, and countless rolls of toilet paper that are half what they used to be. Not to mention the occasional pile of vomit with remnants of easily identifiable favorite panties.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

I'm sure you've heard by now

Steve Jobs, pioneer, inventor, iGenius, has passed. He's been sick for a while, but today he ended his struggle with pancreatic cancer.

While I'm an avid user of Apple products, the life of Steve Jobs was so much more than iStuff. He was an adopted child, a former HP employee, a college drop-out, a Buddhist, and a savvy entrepreneur.

Read more about the life of an innovator here. And here. And here.

Here's a toast to a great man. He changed the landscape of computing and social interaction. Steve, you will be missed greatly. 

The cutest power strip ever

We've all got them: power strips. Keeping our electronics from frying themselves, offering more room to plug other *necessary* items (har har) into the wall. But they're all beige, and boring. Why not shake it up?

Art Lebedev has found the solution: a digital pig. Why not? Considering how the electricity company here in Memphis HOGS my money, it's perfectly fitting.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Get your priotities straight.

I definitely need to take my own advice. I own a car I can hardly afford, I motorcycle I can't pay to fix, and tons of *stuff* I don't actually need. In fact, I have an "office" full of boxes I haven't unpacked in almost 5 years. Maybe more.

The economy sucks, the job market's worse, kids are killing each other, and I can't live without my damn iPhone. What's wrong with this picture? Not claiming by any means that I'm on the verge of an estate sale and a downsize to a cardboard box, but there are some things I (and you) need to think about a little more.

Artist Erin Hanson gives us some graphic insight into our collective excess. Remember as you look at these, that there are millions of folks with no iPhone, no Internet, no food, and no hope. If you're reading this, you have it good. And as I'm writing this, I understand that I have NO room to bitch. I'm employed, housed, and healthy. Internet access, freedom to express my opinion, and a forum in which to do it. Consider what you want and what you need, and make good choices. It's only fair.

Awww. That's cute. In the nerdiest way possible.

Years ago, I bought a coffee mug for my boyfriend (at the time) that said "I love you like zombies love brains." He didn't think it was as sweet as I did, because it's still at my house. So much for sweet gifts.

But these prints definitely get the message across. (Or I'm a ginormous nerd and can't express myself properly.) Tell your uber-smart BF or GF how you feel about them. I hear there's something called "Sweetest Day" coming up, which requires cards and flowers and crap. Make it happen, kids.