|
|
by Paul
Mar 3, 2008 10:43
|
That's a rhetorical question folks, I can't hear your responses. I apologize for the frequent and lengthy sabbaticals taken by yours truly on a blog that only I am qualified to write. I say this of course because nobody else would want to write my blog, due to any number of reasons. I say "any number" because that number is probably... one. I'd say more, but let's not lose focus here.
Anyway.
Despite any rumors you may have heard. I am not a funny person. Everyone else is funny (read: retarded). I'm just cynical enough to watch them and point out their flaws as they happen. It's kind of like how everything looks cooler in slow-motion. Only for me, everything is funny as long as you point it out at the right moment. Preferably, when the victim person is feeling as awkward as possible as a result of their actions.
Example:
A girl falls down a flight of stairs. I say "Watch out for those steps!!!" Aaaaaannnd. SCENE!
Nice Paul. I'll be in my trailer.
I sort of lost my train of thought. Luckily I found this article. Where do I start?
How about that headline? Soap fans: We want more of gay story. Haha. Yeah, me too. I love me some gay stories. You know what the last gay story was that I wanted more of? Sanjaya on last year's American Idol. Oh and I don't mean because he was a frail fruit cake of an individual either. I don't need to tell this audience about how our generation throws the term "gay" around to describe any miniscule, slightly less than good situation. Nor am I asking the media at large to mimic our borderline special-ed day to day diction. Let's be realistic here young people. If like, aliens are like, listening to our like, casual conversations (which would be totally gay of them by the way), they would totally like, think our like, pets are in charge in this piece.
So no, I'm not saying the news should be covered by one of our genuinely english-deficient peers. What I'm saying is maybe when you write a headline, you should think about the different ways it might get interpreted. I'm a perfect example. When the headline "Soap fans: We want more of gay story" showed up in my inbox, my reaction was "Oh man! I don't care what this story is about I have to see what possessed a CNN writer to write that." I'd capitalize CNN to stress that somehow that indicates a writer who works for them should be intelligent, but it turns out it's already capitalized; so, in my face.
...
Haha.
....
Sorry I had to read it again and laugh. It actually gets better if you can believe it though. The article goes on to quote a GUY who started the campaign. I'm assuming the dude is gay. However I'm not knocking that. I'm only pointing out that an article about an on-screen gay couple might entice the news agency to pay particular attention to any way the editorial could be misconstrued. But hey, what do I know, right? Exactly.
Since I have ADD and I'm currently counting the popcorn on my ceiling, let me leave you with the following. The guy who started the campaign for this thing, works as a "Computer Worker." Now, I've been working in computer engineering in various capacities for about ten years now. I have learned a couple of things. One is that I've never once met a "computer worker" in my life. The other fact is that I work say... 50-60 hours a week, and that's not really considered a long week in this industry. So how this guy has time to be a computer worker, and make it home by 2pm to watch soaps is beyond me; but I want his job. |
| Oh yeah... how funny and redundant is it to say "Soap fans: We want more of gay story." It's a soap opera guys... ALL the stories are gay. |
by Paul
Nov 19, 2007 10:42
I fucking hate the media. Primarily the news outlets.
Not the least of my reasons is the fact that most "news" these days is recycled from Reuters or the Associated Press. You can check newspapers in New York, Houston, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Bumfuck Tennessee.
They're ALL carrying the same stories. Take a look at some of these outlets who show you when the story was first run, and when it was updated. Bet it was updated within a few hours. Then again the next day.
Why? Well because they're in such a rush to be first to get news that nobody cares about, they make all kinds of mistakes in the process. Nevermind the fact that none of these "reporters" can write a complete sentence to begin with. I can't tell you the number of times I've read a sentence like eight times only to go "Oohhhhh... wait. What? So did the zoo-keeper say that; or can the monkey talk?"
The other reason is that they're all pandering to stupid MTV related news. MTV--I'm more and more convinced--is the bane of American culture; but that's a topic that I could write a novel about; not a blog entry.
Exhibit A: Kanye Wests' Moms' Surgeons' Arrest Warrant.
Did you know this guy was news? Me neither. Read the article, and then come back.
Did you close it? Open it up again. Let's review.
First of all, after you get into this really deep read (all four paragraphs). No wait.. sentences. No wait... hey can one sentence be a paragraph? Sure. Every single time? Eh, probably not.
So what have we learned? Well... this guy who you didn't know before Kanye's mom died, had an arrest warrant. Because he killed Kanye's mom right? Wrong! They just put her name in there because... well let me know if you figure out why.
So anyway... he gets arrested. No wait... no he doesn't. Ok so there's a warrant out for his arrest. No. Wrong again. There WAS a warrant out, for maybe an hour. Before it was promptly cancelled because he showed up in court (but not for Kanye's mom, for something else entirely). Let's really make it POP though, by completely misleading people and putting her name in the title of the article. Then let's take a half day and high-five ourselves on the way to the Starbucks. Douche bags.
So once again, the Associated Press has informed us of... basically nothing. There was news... but then the news got cancelled. So screw it, let's run the story about how there is nothing to talk about.Hey, nobody's dying of AIDS in Africa or anything like that right?
by Paul
Nov 7, 2007 10:41
|
With the Writers Guild in Hollywood. They're all pissed off because they're not getting enough royalties from other mediums, such as DVD sales, and mobile phones.
First of all... has anybody gone to the movies recently? What awesome stuff are they writing that warrants a raise?
I read an article today that included this:
Picketers used the show as an inspiration for their chants, which included the refrain "We write the story-a for Eva Longoria". |
| Rhyming "Story-a" with "Longoria". If that's the kind of writing I can expect, they can stay on strike. |
by Paul
Sep 11, 2007 10:40
Most of these goals I have tried really hard to try really hard at. One of these goals has been to get some babies named after me. Not my babies, mind you. Anybody can get a "junior." That's amateur night. I'm talking about friends, casual acquaintences, and total strangers.
Basically when I know a girl is pregnant I say, you know... Paul is a great name. I'm a great person, and my name is Paul. Do the math. There's an entire formula dedicated to it. I think it's called the theory of relativity. Clearly, you should name your kid Paul. However, this can be a tough sell for a couple of reasons. Firstly, most girls I know use another guy to get pregnant. This means some dude is going to feel like he's got a right to say the girl can't name the child after me. Obviously, it's just jealousy, but I digress.
The other speed bump is when the baby is going to be a girl. I think the only way you name your girl Paul is if she's going to grow up to be like... a super model. And let's face it ladies... look at the father; probably not going to happen.
A friend of mine pointed out the potential downside of having a "common" name. However his name is Brandon, so that doesn't count. Despite all his claims and denials, he's just as much a part of that trendy ass name as anybody else. That being said, he may have made a decent point. So, my new goal is to get my name tattooed on people. Honestly, it could even be on a dude; like Malcolm X. However I'd still prefer, guys... if you're on the fence... don't do it. Convince your girlfriend to. It just looks better for me. Come on, it's not THAT far-fetched. Somebody somewhere has Brad Pitt's name/face tattooed on them. Why Paul? Excuse you?! Why NOT Paul. If you can't answer that, then I think you need to make an immediate appointment at your local parlor.
You know what? Why stop there. There are only so many fonts you can get my name in, and you definitely want something unique. You want my face tattooed on you... AND your child. Put it on the child's back. I'll start putting up a variety of photos of me, for you all to choose from.
After my mug, put some text around it that says "If found, please return to this guy; but understand he's not accepting custody." At that point I'll probably get a Nobel prize for my continued efforts in solving missing children reports, and rescuing battered wives from uh... whatever it is they need rescuing from.I think it's black eyes.
by Paul
Aug 27, 2007 10:39
|
that... wait. Ok, I HAD a dream. Last night. That dream is now over. Before I continue let me apologize for never updating this thing. It turns out I didn't have a single interesting event occur for 5 months in a row, while I was travelling in Burma. You may know it as Myanmar; but it will always be Burma to me. You may also know that even though I've been gone for a while, I can still plagiarize sitcoms with the best of them.
Moving on. No, moving back... to my dream.
In my dream, my friend and I go into a theater to see a fine sunday offering, on one of sixteen screens at the neighborhood Cine-plex. We're sitting there making various snarky remarks about the ads and previews that we're watching, when in walks this incredibly hot chick in a bikini, who procedes to sit down directly in front of me.
This happens in movie dreams all the time.
My friend and I however, are not the only people to notice how attractive this girl is. Note, we did not notice nor care that she was wearing a bikini; but that's beside the point. A couple of other guys two rows up from me (one from her), start hitting on her. She's visibly uncomfortable because of it, but tries to ignore the goings-on. I think I talked to her at some point. Maybe I dreamed it. Except I dreamed it in my dream. Whatever I did, it must have worked because somehow she turned around to share her displeasure with the situation. So I guess at some point, I had a conversation with her that I promptly forgot (which may indicate how I feel about women in general... unless you're hot and have a crush on me; in which case as far as you know I'm incredibly manly and sensitve at the same time). The other option is that my powers of telepathy exceed even my own comprehension and I just convinced her that she should talk to me based on pure thought, and possibly a ouijie board.
Anyway...
She decided she'd had enough; and that she was leaving. So, the hot chick stands up and walks out of the theater; ass cheeks just a-blowin' in the wind. Well ladies and gentlemen, Paul has had it. I stand up and I say to the guy with all the derogatory comments "What the F is your P?!" I think we all know what happened next. That's right, he replied. So I said... what? Oh you want to know his reply. That makes sense. He says "What the F did you just say?" Clearly my incredibly hip phrasing and slanguage was too much for this poor shmuck to deal with.
This is dragging out so let me wrap it up.
I challenge this guy to the only way to solve problems like men: fisticuffs.
It is at the point where the challenge was accepted, and he stood up to meet me in the aisle (possibly after school at 3:15pm), that I then came to the immediate realization (due to having perfect 20/20 vision) that this guy, is in fact, handicapped. That's correct. He is what's known in most circles as a cripple. "Oh the horror!", you're probably thinking. Well I've got news for you, Jack. This guy swung a MEAN crutch. Joke was on him however, because I caught the crutch in mid-swing. I then disarmed him, and socked him square in the face. That's the end of that chapter.
That accomplished, I turned and exited the theater to find this bikini girl. I managed to catch her right outside the theater door. She apparently took a break on the way out, or just walks really, REALLY slowly. I says "Hey! I took care of that guy in there so you can come back and watch the movie." She replies "Oh. Well I'm not really in the mood anymore so I think I'm going to go home anyway." That's fair enough; especially since I can now apply my mack in full force to ask this girl out. So I say, "oh that's probably for the best. Anyway... maybe I can give you a call sometime?" Her reply? "Maybe."
She then walks off. I walk back to the theater. No, I don't have her number.
So the moral of the story is... in my dream, where I basically have unequalled creative control of the project, I beat up handicapped people, and STILL get rejected by girls. You know, in a dream, I could beat up an entire army of steroid guys wielding shoulder-mounter nuclear rockets; because it's MY dream. Not me. I'm fighting guys with crutches. |
| With all that being said... let's not lose track of the frank truth here. I WON that fight with the guy on crutches, and don't you forget it. |
|
|
|