NOW WITH 1/3 LESS ADVERLINGUS!
RETIRED BULLETIN ENTRIES
|
|  | 20.48: Yo, I'll Tell You What I Want, What I Really Really Want
NIDA: In a former life I once slept in a tent in 30-degree weather for basketball game seats my parents had already paid $35,000 for. Because I was a freshman and being stupid is the thing to do when you're a freshman. Anyways, the problem with sleeping out in a tent in February is not so much the cold - it was North Carolina, after all, and winter lasts all of four minutes down there (if by "minutes" I mean "months" and if by "4" I mean "3", which I do indeed do mean) - no, the problem is what do you do with a full bladder after 2AM when all the buildings lock down for the night. For the majority of those camping out, this posed no problem, as the university I attended had a rather large shrubbery budget.
I've always wondered what people do when they camp out for tickets or whatever flavor of the month is coming out. I also wonder if they're self-employed, because seriously, I would not waste any sick days or vacay just to sit out on some sidewalk hoping someone will save my place so I can go off and hit the head. But that's just me. I'm sane. (As far as I know.) If you are not sane and enjoy queueing up for days on end, you will probably also enjoy this. Or possibly, you could just get a life and wait the week or so to get whatever it is you want. Unless you are queuing up for tickets to a Spice Girls reunion concert, in which case I completely understand. 2 become 1!
|
|
| | 09.30: We Have Been Owned
NIDA: We had a slight case of interweb fascists over the holiday. Normal service should resume shortly.
11.20: Re: We Have Been Owned pwned
NICK: Yes, someone did indeed hack our gibson, and it wasn't Angelina Jolie.
|
|
| | 10.16: Service Will Return to Normal in 3...2...1...
NIDA: My horoscope never mentioned any of this. It did specifically reference the cardboard bunker. That Susan Miller is a genius! Except for that part about our Gibson getting hacked. She never mentioned I would get pwned - if I'd known, I would have worn something more formal. Maybe put my hair up.
You'd think I would have spent the unintended hiatus finding the funny, but no. I am a proud woman and I refuse to beg. Fudge you, funny! Instead, I was reading this which I learned about from the Boing Boing.
P.S. Our archivist has been found. Before we sent him in, we warned him that we didn't have dental, but of course he didn't listen and now he's just going to have to learn to love the soft foods or get used to gumming it. We should have known. If he wasn't going to listen to us about the trenchfoot...
14.15: Quiet Structure
NICK: I'm diggin' CNN's new site design. Andy Rutledge tells us why it works so well.
|
|
| | 09.47: One of Those Days
NIDA: I'm either getting really good gas mileage or my fuel gauge is stuck. The sun is shining through strong enough that I can see my shadow, but I'm still getting rained on. Things could really go either way at this point. If I had a glass, it would need refilling.
Realistically though, I only drive my car every other Sunday. To church. (I hoof it the other weeks.) It's been awhile since I filled the tank up the whole way, so I'm guessing the Phantom Menace just doesn't know what to do with a full belly.
|
|
| | 11.00: Monte My Cristo
NIDA: It is a beeyootiful day, I've been told. I've also been told that this is a design blog. I really don't know what that has to do with me, as I am a simple scribe, at your service. According to the piece of paper gathering dust in some corner of my closet, I am, in fact, a political scientist. Which gives me license to pontificate wildly on many a subject, though none of those subjects being design. All I can tell you is what I like and what I don't like. So here is what I like, the things I deem worthy of earning that very coveted prize of Extreme Awesomeness to the Max, the one and only Oswald Montecristo:
The Way that 6:00 O'Clock in the AM Smells. If I could bottle it, I would sleep in. Nature 1, Nida 0.
Central Air-Conditioning. Haha! Screw you, Nature!
Oh, right. Design. Going along with that - People Who Create. People Who Collaborate. People Who Learn. Like The Infantree.
The Helio Ocean. Haha! Forget you, Steve Jobs! And I refuse to believe that AT&T is the new Cingular. Refused! (P.S. Search for Helio+Visa for a good deal.)
Design...er...Stick this on your browser!
For all those keeping score out there: Nature 1, Nida 1, Steve Jobs $$$$$$$$$. That is all for this Friday the 13th edition of Extreme Awesomeness.
14.50: "Not one of the better drinks I've ever had."
NICK: I admit that I've been a little slow in getting hip to the Man vs. Wild craze that's sweeping the nation. I mean, when I initially heard about the show, I thought to myself, "why would I want to watch someone on TV do things that I do every day during my morning commute to the office." Boring, right? Anyway, in case you haven't seen an episode yet, someone on the interwebs has compiled a list of Top 10 Manliest Moments from Man vs. Wild, though I think #3 on their list should be #1. Enjoy.
|
|
| | 14.41: "Today's Robot is Tomorrow's Unstoppable Killing Machine."
NIDA: Who doesn't like a good quantum physics joke? Check it out if you need a good laugh.
|
|
| | 11.41: "If I Were the Marrying Kind..."
NIDA: Back in the day, I used to be a lot of things. Surly video store clerk. Theme park bathroom attendant slash latex glove advocate. Surly retail assistant manager. I also used to be a utility back on a RugbySouth Collegiate Division II team. And by "utility", I mean that I was decent enough to fill in at a bunch of other positions (not without a bit of surly, I must confess) but not so absolutely brilliant that I would never ever be moved from my spot should the occasional injury or midterm paper knock someone else out of the lineup. I was fortunate enough to walk away from the field with nothing more than some bruises; a few scars; a huge lump on one of my ribs from that time a girl half my size tackled me at the speed of light and thereby ruined my ability to breathe, sleep, and move for the next 3 weeks, not that I ever complained; memories of being covered in bruises; mismatched calves from spraining both ankles at different times and losing a bit of muscle mass differently each time; some bruises; and did I mention the bruising? So all in all, I was one of the lucky few. Of course, boys are a bit rougher than girls - teeth go flying, collarbones get snapped during particularly nasty yet technically legal tackles, certain babymaking body parts get ruptured, etc...these things happen. The only cool injury I ever saw during a girls' game was when some chick knocked herself out cold after trying to tackle my friend Colleen with her head. I would try to make some joke at that chick's expense, but I spent 3 1/2 years avoiding Colleen during all and any tackling drills (and Colleen's a good friend - she spent 3 1/2 years making sure she never had to tackle me) so I can't really say anything.
If you're like me, a child of the Big Eighties whose formative years were spent being force-fed 30-minute long toy commercials (I am now so disillusioned - Jem, say it ain't so!), you need an educational public service announcement to end on. So here it is: Drink your milk, because you never know when some short chick is going to blast into you at 40 miles an hour and make getting out of bed every morning an educational experience in pain.
|
|
| | 13.06: I Can't Think of a Title for This Entry
NIDA: Someone went to a lot of trouble to blind me with their horrible horrible dancing. Dude is no Slim Shady. He's not even Vanilla Ice.
Remember what I said about tomorrow's unstoppable killing machine? The madness has already begun.
And to cap off this weird week: Ew.
|
|
| | 16.35: I Once Worked with a Guy Who Claimed to Be the Filipino Elvis
NIDA: This has been making the rounds on the interwebs. Two points: A) I've tried doing choreography in large formations, and it is a major megatron to do, so big ups, and B) where did they find a pink halter top in jail? Enjoy.
|
|
| | 09.56: "This is like the Twilight Zone. Somehow we got on a train that ended up in Rose's mind." *
NIDA: I don't reallly remember that much from the Big Eighties, except that we should pity the fools and that Willis should really learn to communicate better. But I do like a good song and dance number and I was a huge Silver-Spoons-pre-Fresh-Prince Alfonso Ribeiro fan. How do you go from being the cool best friend who can dance to the dorky spoiled rich kid cousin?
There's not much else going on around here - if the Iraqi government can take off the rest of the summer, why the sam hill can't everyone else? Except for Fiddy (enter code: YOUR DAILY DOSE). Dude's gotta pay the bills. Not like he didn't make a fin or two (if by "two" you mean 80 million) off his stake in VitaminWater but you can't fault a brother for being a working man through and through.
* I can't quite decide if the best part about the 80s was Mr. T or the Golden Girls. I'm gonna go with Asia's "Heat of the Moment".
|
|
| | 14.25: Drop It Like It's Hot
NIDA: Nida's Universal Truth Number 19: You can judge the nature of a venture by the hotness of its applicants. Just like judging a book by its cover. F'rinstance, when I joined the Red and Khaki, there was only one cute guy at my registration session. From which we can infer Nida's Universal Truth Number 62: Good guys sign up to do community service. Hot guys go to Hollywood, drug it up, and get sentenced to do community service.
Which brings us to this nonsense. It turns out Democrats are twice as hot as Republicans, so I guess I know which rallies I'm going to next fall. A hearty congratulations and a meaty Oswald Montecristo to our favorite progressive Senator, Sherrod Brown, for making the list.
Speaking of Senators and dropping hot bombs, did anyone else catch the Honorable Arlen Specter unloading on AG Gonzalez? I've always been a bit on the fence about Pennsylvania's senior Senator, but I respect the man for believing in principles over party (most of the time, from what I hear - who has time to keep up with all that news?) It almost wasn't sporting, the scathe that Sen. Specter laid down. And then I remembered that he deserved it.
Titles that Didn't Quite Make the Cut:
Hillie McHottentrot
Heating Up the Hill
And People Wonder Why I'm Not in Politics
Does a Pepperoni Swim Upstream?
|
|
| | 10.16: We Have Run Out of Rusty Spoons!
NIDA: Hello, interwebbing cybertubes! It's been awhile since we rolled out any Rusty Spoons, as you may or may not have noticed. I've been trying to stay off the rage-ahol. Gone cold turkey I have, yessir. Mostly because I haven't had time to touch the stuff - we are running a little lopsided at the GO, LLC (Lancaster, PA's premier international design unit) right now. Which is not good, as I've been told that this whole entrepreneurial business thing is a marathon. But we should be back to full strength next week and then, then! we might let the vitriol fly. Sweet, sweet vitriol.
Unfortunately, I am much too busy to touch the stuff. If I weren't, I would tell you about the dangers of living in cardboard bunkers. Mainly that the water pressure sucks and the water itself could use a good PH balancing. Between the soft water and the recent humidity I've had no time to wrangle any verbal because I'm trying to wrangle my hair. It's a nuisance and possibly a safety hazard right now. Or I might relate to you the cruelness of Whoever Upstairs has been watering heaven with their tears recently and how all that thundering nearly killed Buddy, my beloved aloe plant. Buddy has survived a pot-shattering fall from disastrous heights, ravenous mice, 3 changes of address, and my own inability to keep things alive. He nearly didn't make it this time, thanks to all the recent thunder (I had him outside on the bunker's balcony). But he's recovering nicely now, in the cardboard bunker's lone east-facing window. Stupid climate change.
Unfortunately I'm much too busy to tell you all that. Smell ya later.
|
|
| | 09.13: Week in Review
NIDA: Hello, interwebbing cybertribes! I have noticed a trend among my fellow webloggers to recap the week with a bunch of links and pictures and the like. Hah! I Pshaw! all over that with a Pffft! here and pbbbrrwwwrrrt over there. Anyone can tell you what already happened. How boring. The Unit at GO (Lancaster's premier international design unit) does not believe in the bore. Nor do we believe in doing the bare minimum, as those other webloggers seem to do. Nope, we do not fool like that here at the GO, LLC.
Here at the GO, LLC, we give you a review of NEXT week so you know what's going down ahead of time and can plan accordingly. We're very thoughtful that way. So here it is:
The Race to Rock Bottom between Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears Continues to Shock No One! However, late entry and lone wolf Lauryn Hill (O you're killing me softly with all the crazy, L-Boogie. Please, please stop clowning us and get back with 'Clef and Pras and do your thang. How you gon' win when you ain't right within?) throws her hat (clown-sized) in the ring to remind us all how real crazy is done.
David Beckham Continues to Amaze Southern California with his Bench-Warming Prowess! Seriously, "one of the greatest players ever"?! Dude (however pretty he may be and I'm not quite sure how natural that pretty is) is not even one of the greatest players alive now, in a world with Ronaldinho, Zidane, Henri, Baggio, Ronaldo, and dozens of others. He might not even be the prettiest footballer kickin' right now.
The Rest of the World Continues to Be Mad at Us. I think we've burned some bridges. In Europe, anyway - I'm not sure we had many bridges left standing in South America or Asia or the Middle East or even Central America before the 21st century. It's the great American pastime, burning bridges is.
Coffee Drunk by Some, Disliked by Others. It's an acquired taste.
After Watching the Simpsons Movie, America Realizes that Ahn-uld is the Best Choice for President and Elects Him as a Write-In Candidate in the 2008 Election, Only to Realize the Morning After that They Should Have Paid Closer Attention in History Class and That They Really Aren't Smarter than a Fifth Grader. That one is pretty self-explanatory.
Well, our crystal ball is fogging up pretty bad now, possibly from this crazy humidity, so we shall close this review of next week for now. Pretty much the same old same old goes down. Of course, there may be a few surprises but we don't want to spoiler it too much for you. Goodbye, interwebbing cybertribes!
|
|
| | 14.11: Rub Some Dirt on It and Take a Salt Tablet
NIDA: It is quite the three-legged race here at the GO, LLC (Lancaster's premier international three-legged unit). Literally. Between a gimp knee (refuses to function in cold damp climates like, say, London), fallen arches, and now a severely sprained ankle, the Unit at Go is a hobbled bunch. So we will avoid any heavy lifting for now which is no never mind since it's Tuesday. And you know what Tuesday means - the bits with the tids!
We live in a disposable, prepackaged, prefab (do I mean "prefabricated"? "prefabulous"? you decide) era of mass consumption. TV tells me I should want this and I should want that, and frankly, who am I to argue? I'm not the only one. This is genius.
I'm researching radio advertising. Unfortunately, plugging "best radio ads ever" into Google does not bring up the best radio ads ever. How to write the best radio ads ever, how to buy the best radio ads ever, but not so much as an actual radio ad. Then I searched the 'tube and found this which I am not so much sure is real or is like that phone call last night in which a member of the castrati wanted to order some chicken fried rice. Has anyone from America's PAC ever met a black American? Not all of them are more concerned with their rims and their Timbs than their women. Seriously.
After listening to that, I needed a little pick-me-up. I needed a laugh. I needed a hero. Or a He-Man. I wish we had a He-Man in Lancaster. We have a Runner. There's an older gentleman who runs around downtown sometime between midmorning and midafternoon. I don't mean that sometimes he runs in midmorning, sometimes he runs a little later. I mean that he runs solidly from midmorning to midafternoon. Usually in nothing more than running shoes, running short shorts, and sunglasses. In the winter, he concedes to the cold by donning a hat. I'm getting a weird sense of deja vu. Have I written about this before?
|
|
|
|
