wojr - words, occasionally sentences
Friday, May 21, 2004
Weekends Are Meant For Mischief
"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world." - The Club of Fight
HAPPY 5PM FRIDAY EVERYONE!
wojr
"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world." - The Club of Fight
HAPPY 5PM FRIDAY EVERYONE!
wojr
Labels: 5PMSendoff, Hollywood
Good Thing Our Forefathers Weren't Racist or Anything
Question of the day:
Is the man depicted on the cover "Gatunga the Axe-Man!" or "Jimmy Walker"?
Either way, DYNOOOO-MITE!!!
wojr
Question of the day:
Is the man depicted on the cover "Gatunga the Axe-Man!" or "Jimmy Walker"?
Either way, DYNOOOO-MITE!!!
wojr
Labels: Nostalgia, Snide Remarks
Thursday, May 20, 2004
You Show Me A White Kid Named Xerox & I'll Give You A Dollar
So really, what is in a name?
Gwyneth had a little baby girl and named her, Apple. Personally, I like the name. However, most people are just reminded that celebrities have an odd habit of bestowing unusual names to their offspring.
According to this article on MSN, some stellar names for the celebrity progeny include Rumer, Audio Science, Speck, Jermajesty and Fifi Trixibelle. Basically, the article took some cheap shots at the popular folk and insured the children's future dependence on psychological therapy.
Of course, the article fails to mention the crazy names us regular folk give their kids.
From the April issue of Psychology Today:
"Today's parents seem to believe they can alter their child's destiny by the picking the perfect - preferably idiosyncratic - name. (Destiny, incidentally, was the ninth most popular name for girls in New York City last year.) The current crop of preschoolers includes a few Uniques, with uncommonly named playmates like Kyston, Payton and Sawyer. From Dakota to Heaven, Integrity to Serenity, more babies are being named after places and states of mind."
They then go on to list some real names, seen and heard. Here are a few of my favorites:
Armani Hutch
Atom Larceny
Attila Legend
Bigamy* Loveless
Blade Lucky
Bologna Luscious
Camry Maverick
Cappuccino Oat
Cashmere* Ptolemy
Cerulean Rayon
Chanel Sincerity*
Cherry* Sparkle*
Coal Special*
Denim Starsky
Desperate Timberland
Dilemma Tookie
Dung Toyota
Emancipation Tragedy
Espn Truth
Famous* Vienna*
Halston Xerox
The starred names need not adopt a porn name. These individuals can proceed directly to the set for their boy-boy-girl scene.
What cruel parents name their kids Loveless, Tragedy, Desperate or Dung? I mean if you really want to give your kids a feeling of individuality - give them a different family name. There are really no new family names being introduced into the name pool. Sure, we get some funky immigrant names like Wojciak to offset the Browns and Smiths, but those names are only new to you. It's not like they haven't been circulating in their home countries for hundreds of years.
So, if you want your child to be an individual, give them a different family name. Plus, it gives you plausible deniability when the kid starts messing his life up.
(By the way, do you think Starsky and Hutch might be related? I imagine them to be little twin girls. Twin girls that grow up to hot women that men will fantasy about sleeping with, but never actually will. Why? Because the only thing that sounds more homosexual then claiming, "Yeah, I banged Starsky & Hutch" is "I was gang raped by the Village People.")
wojr
So really, what is in a name?
Gwyneth had a little baby girl and named her, Apple. Personally, I like the name. However, most people are just reminded that celebrities have an odd habit of bestowing unusual names to their offspring.
According to this article on MSN, some stellar names for the celebrity progeny include Rumer, Audio Science, Speck, Jermajesty and Fifi Trixibelle. Basically, the article took some cheap shots at the popular folk and insured the children's future dependence on psychological therapy.
Of course, the article fails to mention the crazy names us regular folk give their kids.
From the April issue of Psychology Today:
"Today's parents seem to believe they can alter their child's destiny by the picking the perfect - preferably idiosyncratic - name. (Destiny, incidentally, was the ninth most popular name for girls in New York City last year.) The current crop of preschoolers includes a few Uniques, with uncommonly named playmates like Kyston, Payton and Sawyer. From Dakota to Heaven, Integrity to Serenity, more babies are being named after places and states of mind."
They then go on to list some real names, seen and heard. Here are a few of my favorites:
Armani Hutch Atom Larceny Attila Legend Bigamy* Loveless Blade Lucky Bologna Luscious Camry Maverick Cappuccino Oat Cashmere* Ptolemy Cerulean Rayon Chanel Sincerity* Cherry* Sparkle* Coal Special* Denim Starsky Desperate Timberland Dilemma Tookie Dung Toyota Emancipation Tragedy Espn Truth Famous* Vienna* Halston Xerox The starred names need not adopt a porn name. These individuals can proceed directly to the set for their boy-boy-girl scene.
What cruel parents name their kids Loveless, Tragedy, Desperate or Dung? I mean if you really want to give your kids a feeling of individuality - give them a different family name. There are really no new family names being introduced into the name pool. Sure, we get some funky immigrant names like Wojciak to offset the Browns and Smiths, but those names are only new to you. It's not like they haven't been circulating in their home countries for hundreds of years.
So, if you want your child to be an individual, give them a different family name. Plus, it gives you plausible deniability when the kid starts messing his life up.
(By the way, do you think Starsky and Hutch might be related? I imagine them to be little twin girls. Twin girls that grow up to hot women that men will fantasy about sleeping with, but never actually will. Why? Because the only thing that sounds more homosexual then claiming, "Yeah, I banged Starsky & Hutch" is "I was gang raped by the Village People.")
wojr
Labels: Advice, News, Porn, Snide Remarks, Whores
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
Let The Punishment Fit The Cranium
Not the most timely idea but go with it.
If an American citizen commits a hate crime against a person of Middle Eastern heritage, I think as additional punishment the attacker should be forced to wear a turban for the rest of their life.
Not only is it a solid deterrent, but it would make me laugh. Imagine going down to the Piggly Wiggly to get some milk & fresh bait and Billy Bob behind the counter is saddled with a nice head wrap. I would laugh so hard that a little pee might dribble out.
That's what our criminal system needs - more laughs and less torture of POWs.
wojr
Not the most timely idea but go with it.
If an American citizen commits a hate crime against a person of Middle Eastern heritage, I think as additional punishment the attacker should be forced to wear a turban for the rest of their life.
Not only is it a solid deterrent, but it would make me laugh. Imagine going down to the Piggly Wiggly to get some milk & fresh bait and Billy Bob behind the counter is saddled with a nice head wrap. I would laugh so hard that a little pee might dribble out.
That's what our criminal system needs - more laughs and less torture of POWs.
wojr
Labels: Advice, Political, Snide Remarks
If I Was Watching American Idol, It Might Have Been Paula Abdul
My predilection to bizarre dreams is well known amongst my friends. One involving 12-year-old blonde mulattos and velvet paintings happens to be a repeated source of mocking and ridicule. It definitely does not help my tendency towards the peculiar when I fall asleep with the television turned on; allowing whatever late night/early morning television programming to seep into my subconscious.
Last night's dream revolved around a high school reunion. Judging by the attendees and the Jersey Shore locale, I will assume it was for my high school. However, during the course of the night, I was picked up by one of the other participants, a famous one that really had no reason to be at the reunion, Whitney Houston.
Except for her possible presence in the background television programming, I have no idea why Whitney would be in my dream. I have no particular attraction to her. Despite such statements as "Crack is cheap. I make too much for me to ever smoke crack. Let's get that straight, OK? I don't do crack. I don't do that. Crack is whack." the lady really isn't my type (Now, Halle Berry, that's a frequent dream liaison). Even though in my dream, Whitney did have it going on. She was more in her "I Want To Dance With Somebody" phase than the present "I smoke rock, Joe Rogan" state of being.
So, the basic plot of my dream involved Whitney and I avoiding my classmates as well as Bobbi Brown as we search for a quiet place to get our groove on. I guess a hotel room was out of the question for my subconscious. But before I got to be Whitney's bodyguard, the 5 AM Broncatello Wake Up Call ended my blissful slumber.
When I looked at the television to see what show had spurred all these illusory visions, can you imagine which one was on? Not Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous. Not The E! True Hollywood Story. Not even Charlie Murphy's True Hollywood Stories.
It was COPS
wojr
My predilection to bizarre dreams is well known amongst my friends. One involving 12-year-old blonde mulattos and velvet paintings happens to be a repeated source of mocking and ridicule. It definitely does not help my tendency towards the peculiar when I fall asleep with the television turned on; allowing whatever late night/early morning television programming to seep into my subconscious.
Last night's dream revolved around a high school reunion. Judging by the attendees and the Jersey Shore locale, I will assume it was for my high school. However, during the course of the night, I was picked up by one of the other participants, a famous one that really had no reason to be at the reunion, Whitney Houston.
Except for her possible presence in the background television programming, I have no idea why Whitney would be in my dream. I have no particular attraction to her. Despite such statements as "Crack is cheap. I make too much for me to ever smoke crack. Let's get that straight, OK? I don't do crack. I don't do that. Crack is whack." the lady really isn't my type (Now, Halle Berry, that's a frequent dream liaison). Even though in my dream, Whitney did have it going on. She was more in her "I Want To Dance With Somebody" phase than the present "I smoke rock, Joe Rogan" state of being.
So, the basic plot of my dream involved Whitney and I avoiding my classmates as well as Bobbi Brown as we search for a quiet place to get our groove on. I guess a hotel room was out of the question for my subconscious. But before I got to be Whitney's bodyguard, the 5 AM Broncatello Wake Up Call ended my blissful slumber.
When I looked at the television to see what show had spurred all these illusory visions, can you imagine which one was on? Not Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous. Not The E! True Hollywood Story. Not even Charlie Murphy's True Hollywood Stories.
It was COPS
wojr
Monday, May 17, 2004
Another Reason I Probably Won't End Up Owning An Island
If asked "Given unlimited wealth, what would you do?", I would probably respond like most people. I would want to make some deserted tropical island my home and just drop out from society.
However, if you asked me "If you had an extra $500 lying around, what would you do with it?" I would bypass any tropical yearnings and buy one of these.
So, does that mean my connection to society is entirely based on my personal wealth? Looking at my bank account, I guess that I will always be tethered to you people.
(Let me just tell you that being aware of one's own contradictions does not make them any easier to handle.)
wojr
If asked "Given unlimited wealth, what would you do?", I would probably respond like most people. I would want to make some deserted tropical island my home and just drop out from society.
However, if you asked me "If you had an extra $500 lying around, what would you do with it?" I would bypass any tropical yearnings and buy one of these.
So, does that mean my connection to society is entirely based on my personal wealth? Looking at my bank account, I guess that I will always be tethered to you people.
(Let me just tell you that being aware of one's own contradictions does not make them any easier to handle.)
wojr
Labels: Advice
Sunday, May 16, 2004
But Hasn't Everything Become Just White Noise?
Just watched the utterly uneventful finale of The Practice. Live. Which means I couldn't TIVO my way through all the annoying commercials. Which brings me to what is bothering me today. Car commercials. Is it me or are they all the same? With exception to a few interesting VW ads, all car commercials just appear exactly the same. They are becoming white noise. Just there in the background, utterly ignored. No matter how low the damn APR.
But (and here is the big 'BUT') can we all just assume, as a society, that if it is a car commercial, the car is being driven by a professional driver on a closed road? Can we just take that for granted and when it's not a professional driver on a closed road, when it's, like, some idiot amateur driving down the Garden State Parkway on a Friday during the summer, then we can get the legal notification?
And by the way, coffee is served hot, shampoo feels unpleasant in your eyes, and too much McDonald's will make your ass so wide it can house every legal disclaimer known to man.
All these damn warnings everywhere are preventing the necessary thinning of our herd.
Whatever, I'm going to bed. Hopefully, I will wake up tomorrow to find out Andy Kaufman is still alive.
wojr
Just watched the utterly uneventful finale of The Practice. Live. Which means I couldn't TIVO my way through all the annoying commercials. Which brings me to what is bothering me today. Car commercials. Is it me or are they all the same? With exception to a few interesting VW ads, all car commercials just appear exactly the same. They are becoming white noise. Just there in the background, utterly ignored. No matter how low the damn APR.
But (and here is the big 'BUT') can we all just assume, as a society, that if it is a car commercial, the car is being driven by a professional driver on a closed road? Can we just take that for granted and when it's not a professional driver on a closed road, when it's, like, some idiot amateur driving down the Garden State Parkway on a Friday during the summer, then we can get the legal notification?
And by the way, coffee is served hot, shampoo feels unpleasant in your eyes, and too much McDonald's will make your ass so wide it can house every legal disclaimer known to man.
All these damn warnings everywhere are preventing the necessary thinning of our herd.
Whatever, I'm going to bed. Hopefully, I will wake up tomorrow to find out Andy Kaufman is still alive.
wojr
Labels: Advice, Snide Remarks
