Fame

I don’t need to be rich. I don’t ever want to use all of my stored up clever ideas for cardboard signs, but I don’t need to be fabulously wealthy. Even in my wildest dreams, I’m never in a gold yacht wearing an uncomfortable gold suit eating a bowl full of money. However, I would like to someday be famous. I don’t need to be recognizable. I really am just hoping to one day be famous enough to use it to my advantage.

The rise to fame is charted easily enough. First, some non famous person does something that is enjoyed by the famous and maybe even the non famous. After that, they become wildly popular. The popularity is directly proportional to how great of a thing they’ve done. If they’ve done something incredible, like write a series of books about vampires and werewolves, they’ll become incredibly popular. However, if they’ve only done something average, like make a TV show about the government, they’ll only be averagely popular.

After this, they do something that’s deemed by the public as ‘selling out.’ This is when the popular person starts to advertise a product either on TV, the radio or otherwise. Once this happens, the popular person’s reputation is at the mercy of the people. The consequences can be anywhere from drastic to catastrophic. The public tends not to like the sell out because they seem to be cheap, or soulless, or whorish, or William Shatner. The public, as per usual, could not be any more wrong.

In most cases, the extremely famous are people, with exceptions for YouTube squirrels, capybaras, and professional athletes. Also in most cases, people like things and tend to use them. However, we as the uninformed masses tend to forget that these people like things and use them, so when they start to say that they like things we get upset. William Shatner wants me to use a website to book all of my trips. Who am I to say that William Shatner doesn’t love Priceline more than his first born? Maybe he has it as his home screen, wallpaper, and somehow as his wall paper in his house?

This is precisely why I want to be famous. Because I understand at least one thing about advertising: if you advertise someone’s product, they will reward you for it. I’m sure that William Shatner has never had to pay to use Priceline in his life. When (if) (but really, when) I become at least mildly famous, I will use this facet of my fame until it’s long past worn out. I will sell, pitch, and peddle every product that strikes my fancy.

My fancy is not easily struck, mind you. And since I don’t want to “sell out” after I become famous, I’m going to start now. I’m going to now pitch, in order, every product that I can confidently recommend without fear of a negative response. That way, when I become famous, I will already have a reputation as somewhat of a peddler, and if I become instantly successful, like I imagine I won’t, maybe I will see some instant return.

Ruby Jewel Ice Cream Sandwiches

Ruby Jewel is a brand of Ice Cream Sandwiches. Therefore, they might not be for people who don’t enjoy dairy, or sugar, or the happiness of a child on Christmas Morning. I’m not sure how they are made, but I think one is made every time a virginity is lost. I think the ice cream may be scooped from the clouds, although I can’t confirm that either. If I were to go to the doctor tomorrow and he were to tell me that I had contracted a horrible cancer from all the ice cream sandwiches I had eaten and I only had six months to live, I would laugh at him. Because my doctor is a pessimist, and the pessimist sees my hypothetical disease as a tragic end to a short life. But I am an optimist. And the optimist sees my six months to live as six more months to eat ice cream sandwiches. Ruby Jewel ice cream sandwiches come in seven flavors that I’ve seen. They all have one flavor of cookie and another flavor of ice cream. The cookies are always soft. I can only assume that there is some terrible chemical additive that makes the cookies soft. However, if you were to tell me that this chemical was the blood of those African children who want ten cents a day, I would still eat them. If you were to tell me that I had a choice between soft cookies and a solution to the economic problems of the world, I would gladly take soft cookies. I would eat my ice cream sandwiches and laugh at the news knowing I could have made a difference. I can not be convinced that my love of Ruby Jewel ice cream sandwiches did not kill Kim Jong Il. Fire and water rain down from the sky, there are monkeys who can speak sign language, who’s to say that pure love of an ice cream sandwich can’t bring down a Korean dictator? I would trade my first born for a Ruby Jewel ice cream sandwich. In fact, I wouldn’t even have to think about it. I would trade my first born for the opportunity to overpay for a Ruby Jewel. There is no peace in the middle east because Ruby Jewel is made in Portland, and as far as I know, they don’t ship to the middle east.. There is one flaw to Ruby Jewel. You can only choose one flavor at a time. The correct choice would of course be to choose all the flavors simultaneously. However, I have not yet figured out how to accomplish this. So, no matter which flavor you choose, you have chosen the wrong flavor. If you’re wondering, my personal favorite is either lemon and honey lavender, Double chocolate and mint, cinnamon and espresso, double chocolate and peanut butter, ginger and pumpkin, salted caramel and dark chocolate, or chocolate chip and vanilla. It’s been almost a month since I’ve had a Ruby Jewel ice cream sandwich. Don’t confuse this for tiring of their perfection. I am for gay marriage for one reason. One of the arguments against gay marriage is that once a man can marry a man, that would open the floodgates. If marriage is no longer between a man and a woman, who is to say that a man can’t marry his dog, or a duck. I’m hoping this does happen, and it leads to a dramatic series of events that ends in humans being able to marry other humans, animals, inanimate objects, ideas, and feelings. It is at that point that I will choose my bride: a lemon and honey lavender ruby jewel ice cream sandwich. Our love is so deep that I can go a month without having one. It’s the equivalent of letting my girlfriend hang out with her guy friends (I assume, I’ve never been in this situation.) I know that at the end of the day, the Lemon Honey Lavender Ruby Jewel ice cream sandwich only wants to come home with me.

Oxygen

Oxygen is good. It keeps us alive, and also fire needs oxygen to burn.

Game of Thrones Prop Bets

Tonight is the first episode of the second season of Game of Thrones. If you're a fan of the show and/or a degenerate gambler, seek help. You have a vice that is controlling you and it's most likely costing you the respect of your family, and may leave you destitute and alone. Also, here are some odds for tonight's episode in case you want to make a few extra bucks, or make the show a little more exciting or experience a high that none of your loved ones can replicate:

Number of times someone drops the C-bomb: 1.5

Over/Under: Minute mark the first C-bomb is dropped: 20:00

Over/Under: Number of people killed on screen: 3.5

Number of people found dead: 1.5

First character killed: 

Brann Stark: 4/1

Robb Stark: 3.5/1

Goffrey Lannister: 10/1

Tywin Lannister 4/1

Jamie Lannister 3/2

Shaggy Dog 20/1

Jon Snow 3/2

Over/Under Characters introduced by name 4.5

First Character to Appear Naked


Daenerys Targaryen 1/1

Cersei Lannister 3/2

Tyrion Lannister 6/1

Brann Stark 20/1

Ned Stark 100/1

Number of Sex Scenes 3.5


Number of Whitewalkers 0.5


Number of people killed by a dragon 0.5

Red Flag?

So, i got this email from a coworker last week. I think he sent it to me by accident. I debated for a while whether or not to tell anybody about this but I think it’s better for everyone if I do. For the privacy of the coworker involved, I've redacted his name.

Dear Mom,

I know that you told me never to talk to you again unless it was to tell you that I'd finally met a woman who doesn't ignore me and doesn't have a drinking problem and isn't older than you and doesn't walk with a limp and isn't you and isn't married to my boss, and I bet you never thought you'd hear from me again. Well, I found her; the girl of my dreams. First of all, she's stunning. She doesn't have ugly hair, and she doesn't have the crazy eyes and she doesn't look crazy like you know who. She's also smarter than you know who. She has a photographic memory, and she doesn't look at me like I'm crazy whenever I tell a joke. She's never questioned my eating habits, and she's never told me I shouldn't smoke. I really think she's the one. She has the most beautiful name, I think she's Asian. The best part is that she sits right next to my desk. We never talk, because I don't want the white one and the racist one to get jealous, but I really think she gets me.

And Mom, I really love her. I am excited to go to work, not just because it's such a great place and everybody likes me, but because I know that I get to be next to her for eight hours a day. I've invited her to lunch but I don't think she wants to attract too much attention to “us.” The only reason I haven't yet publicly declared my love for her is that I'm afraid of the rejection. After the Christmas party this year, I didn't think I could feel any worse. The love of my life had rejected me. But then, last week, my heart was reconstructed from the shards it had been in. It was reconstructed by her beauty. I love her so much that I'm starting to question all those romantic movies I've seen. Their love will never scratch the surface of ours. A thousand Shakespeares in a thousand rooms with a thousand type writers couldn't come close to describing my love for her. The only reason I would hesitate to lay down my life for her is that it would mean an eternity spent without her, since she'll probably go to Buddhist heaven. But, I would survive without her knowing that I gave everything up for her.

I think I'm going to marry her. I will tell her that I can't afford a ring, but what I can provide is my undying love. I will do everything I can to make sure that we have a house to live in and food on the table. And who knows? Maybe someday down the line, maybe I could give you some grand kids that you don't regret for being Mormon and therefore alien. The only problem would be the family name. I know you want to keep it going, but I love her too much. She has two sisters that work in the other building, but I don't think she has any brothers. So if she makes me the happiest man in the world, and takes my name, hers might die. Would it be OK with you if I took her last name? I think it would sound good either way, but really it would be up to her, the hopefully future Ms. Konica K*nney. Anyways, let me know what you think, and if I have your blessing.

Sincerely,

P*ul K*nney

Work Administrative Staff

Work Headquarters     

2715 E Mill Plain Blvd

Vancouver, WA 98661

p: 360-693-5675

f: 360-693-4858

e: paulk@work.org

Big Cereal

Peanut Butter Cheerios exist, and the American people need to recognize them for what they are. I've never had them myself, but I imagine the sentence 'I don't like Peanut Butter Cheerios...' ends with 'but I would kill a man on the spot if he ever questioned my loyalty to his lordship, the Great Gazoo.' I don't want to meet that man. However great Peanut Butter Cheerios may be, they are still a most likely delicious canary in a coal mine of deceit. They are one of the many new cereal flavors to pop up in recent months, and while the average sugar cereal eater may be overjoyed at the trend, they should be afraid for the future of the industry.

Because honestly, what took so long? Honey nut Cheerios, the last advance in Cheerios as a whole, debuted in 1979. So why did it take so long for a company that's paid to come up with flavors of cereal to think of peanut butter? Peanut butter is used to get dogs to do a variety of things legal or illegal. You can't dip a pill in honey and nuts to get a dog to eat it. Don't kid yourselves, dogs aren't stupid. They know when there's an intruder, or when the freezer is making ice. They know there's a pill in the peanut butter, and they eat it anyways because they can't get the lid off themselves. So why didn't they think of it sooner? They did. 

If you don't think that General Mills thought of peanut butter cheerios long ago, you're most likely unfamiliar with the game of tennis. Not to be confused with the British lawn game, tennis is a game played between two friends who don't want to wear white shorts. A pair of friends or associates or what have you are given a topic, such as 1976 Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Then each participant names a player from the 1976 Tampa Bay Buccaneers until one of them cannot think of a player. The trick to the game, as you might guess, is to go from popular to obscure. You may know that Danny Reece was on the team, but your friend probably doesn't. So you go through your Dan Ryczeks, your Essex Johnsons, your more popular players, first and then you bring out your ace in the hole. Your Danny Reece. Peanut Butter Cheerios is General Mills's Danny Reece. They've gone through Dan 'Frosted Cheerios' Ryczek, they've gone through Essex 'Apple Cinnamon Cheerios' Johnson, and now they're onto Danny Reece. 

In fact, Big Cereal companies everywhere are onto they're respective Danny Reeces. Frosted Toast Crunch, Peanut Butter Cheerios, and Cinnamon Chex have all popped up in the last few years with Peanut Butter Cheerios being the most recent and most glaring. Cereal companies everywhere are throwing hay-makers. They're playing tennis and they're naming the kicker, the long snapper and the towel boy. But why? Who is this foe, and how does he know so much about the 1976 Tampa Bay Buccaneers? He doesn't. He's fighting dirty.

The attack on Big Cereal has been malicious and it has been thorough. Most people probably haven't even noticed. A commercial about the dangers of High Fructose Corn Syrup may not seem like a malicious attack at all. If you're loyal to the Great Gazoo, it might seem like someone is looking out for your best interest. High Fructose Corn Syrup is no more dangerous to the human body than anything else we eat. So why is it being assaulted? Well, the anti-HFCS commercials are in fact by a well known Communist faction that, that shall remain nameless. But, as communists, they are of course poor. So where is the money really coming from?

Who is Big Cereal's biggest threat? Occam's razor tells us that the simplest answer is often the best. I would not describe myself as a 'breakfaster' so let me ask you. What do you want for breakfast? Fruit? The fruit industry would be nothing without cereal. People wouldn't even eat fruit if it weren't for cereal. Cereal commercials often feature fruit, and when they don't, it's a commercial for a fruit flavored cereal. Nice try. Yogurt? 85% of yogurt is made by Kellogg. Get your facts straight. Pop-Tarts? Really. The same Pop-tarts that are made by Kellogg? I'm surprised you stopped breathing out of your mouth long enough to even suggest that, mouth breather. Cold Pizza? I'm sorry, this isn't the X-games.

Who said Eggs? Oh right, that was me. Big Cereal and the Chicken Farmers have been at war for centuries. And it only got worse when Corn Flakes picked that ridiculous chicken mascot that can only be taken as a direct slap in the face to chickens everywhere. They might as well be the Cleveland Indians. The egocentricity of the Chicken Farmer is rivaled only by his ability to farm chickens. And they're hatred of Big Cereal finally came to a head when they funded those vicious attack ads against HFCS.

The Chicken Farmer isn't even creative. They knew they had to bring down cereal and their only solution was to use something that had already been used against them; the health ad. The american public eats it up every time. Of course, now we know cholesterol doesn't exist, but it almost brought down the egg industry as a whole. We would have all been eating egg-free foods for the rest of our lives, if it weren't for cereal. With the famous 'Honey Nut Cheerios lowers cholesterol' ads, Big Cereal saved its enemy. Because much like Sherlock and Moriarty, Big Cereal knows that one cannot exist without the other. But the Chicken Farmer's ego cannot be quenched. It wanted to push Big Cereal off the ledge.

Because with cereal out of the way, there's more corn for the chickens, and less competition at the breakfast table. And we all know, Chicken Farmers don't play second fiddle, they play first. So the cereal companies are doing the only thing they can. They're bringing out the big guns. Peanut Butter Cheerios exist, and now it's up to the American people to make the choice. You can eat eggs for breakfast, and do as the Great Gazoo bids. But if you refuse to eat cereal because of the communist propaganda on TV, you're giving into terrorism. Fight Communism. Fight Terrorism. Eat Cereal. 

Dear CARA:

On Friday night I went and saw Haywire, and afterwards, I couldn't get home fast enough. According to the internet, CARA is responsible for movie ratings. I can't find any way to contact them on their website, so an open letter seemed like the next best option. 

Dear CARA: 

Firstly, let me say that your website is awful. It makes it very difficult for anyone to contact you which is frustrating to people like me who are looking to heap praise on you. I went and saw Haywire on Friday, and as you may well know, it was rated R for "some violence." I assume this was done tongue in cheek. I found the amount of violence in Haywire to be nauseating to say the least. However, don't think for a second that I am unhappy with your rating. I can't begin to tell you how happy I am that someone finally stood up to the big bad movie makers who always want to expose our children to all that punching, and kicking, and elbowing. Movie makers need to know that they can't just make whatever slaughter fest they want. They need to be taught a lesson.

While I agree with your rating of Haywire, I feel you have more than missed the mark on some others. The following is a list of movies and or TV shows and or people that I think should be R rated, and the reasons:

Red: Karl Urban says fuck at the end, so it has as many fucks as Haywire, yet it's rated PG-13. Also, I realize and agree that this letter should be rated R since I've now said fuck three times. 

Spider-man: Kirsten Dunst and Spider-man share a kiss that rivals the only kiss in Haywire on it's length and overall vulgarity, yet Spider-man is inexplicably rated PG-13. 

Violence in movies has gone unchecked for far too long, and I for one am glad someone is finally taking a stand. But the job is nowhere near done. There are too many violent movies that should be rated R to list individually, so I'm going to list them all in a group. Here goes: The aforementioned Spider-man and Red, Tintin, the star wars saga, all the Lord of the Rings movies, the original Power Rangers Movie, the Power Rangers TV series, all of the Terminator movies, all of the Bourne movies, all of the X-men movies, the NFL, MMA, the family guy fights between Peter and the chicken, the preview for Ghost rider 2, G.I. Joe, all the transformer movies, rap videos (I assume, I try to avoid them), any movie starring Will Smith, any Bill Murray movie except for Groundhog day, Chris Brown as a person, that game between the Pacers and the Pistons like 8 years ago that got all those players suspended, boxing, High School, all of the Indiana Jones movies, the episode of The League with the self defense class, rugby, cartoons mostly, every Mario game ever, Up (for gore), the WWE (WWE Superstar Edge in particular), martial arts in general, High School Wrestling, Middle School Wrestling (we have to stop pretending it doesn't exist and start addressing the problem), The Pacifier, any movie starring or featuring Vin Diesel, G.I. Joe the cartoon, and finally, Dwayne Johnson's collective works. 

I'm sure that I am missing some, but I think I got most of the main offenders. Thank you again for protecting all audiences under seventeen from the bloodbath that is Haywire, and if you would like my help in rating movies, feel free to contact me. 

Sincerely,

@zackburton