Archive for the 'uncategorized' Category

It’s all about meme around here

From YNL, who tagged me so subtly I didn’t even notice. Ironically, she tagged me by submitting the tag in my collection of words the other day with the word “tag”, and it won her cookies and a book! I don’t think tagging someone for a meme has ever reaped such a fruitful reward. Anyway, onward.

What were you doing five years ago?
May 2003. Let’s see. I was working in my last job, and probably hating the bejesus out of it. Actually, I just looked it up on my calendar. I had a staff meeting (which was probably completely pointless and I probably stared evil death-hate stares into the face of my boss while she prattled on about all the things she was supposed to do but would be passing off to me). I also apparently had a “Task Force” meeting, which was probably just a duplication of the staff meeting but with different people. I also apparently needed to go pick up “poster board”. I don’t know what that’s about.

What are five things on your to-do list for today (not in any particular order):

1. Finish this blog post
2. Edit the wedding footage from Mokie’s wedding (from, uh, three years ago).
3. Meet with infuriatingly stupid people all day
4. Drink some beers
5. Rock my fuckin’ eyeballs out playing Guitar Hero! Yeah, bitches! You thought this was over with? This ain’t over with.

What are five snacks you enjoy?
Salted cashews
Bacon (yuh-huh bacon is so a snack)
Beer
Doritos
Nachos

What five things would you do if you were a billionaire?
Pay off all my debt (how boring is that?)
Invest in my 401k and IRA (wow, how exciting)
Diversify my portfolio (can it get anymore exciting)
Buy a nicer house, somewhere near the water (I guess that’s kind of interesting but not really)
A mountain of hookers and blow

What are five of your bad habits?

I don’t really have any bad habits, but here are five things I do that irritate people
Be too awesome
Too hilarious, sometimes to the point of injuring others
People want to be me, and that’s not possible, so they get mad
I have a pretty spectacular set of reproductive organs, making many people jealous and/or weak in the knees
The combination of the four things above can kill

What are five places where you have lived?
Catonsville
Charles Village
Glen Burnie
That’s it.

What are five jobs you have had?
Record Store Snob
Lifeguard/baby poop cleaner upper (no diapers in the pool, shitty parents! yes, that means you too.)
Anti-violence activist (seriously)
Lawnmower (I mean, I wasn’t actually the machine that cuts the grass, but my job was to mow lawns)
My current job

Hey, that was pretty exciting, was it not? No? It wasn’t? Yeah. I’m bad at memes.

You were my experimental rats and I didn’t have IRB approval!

I have a confession. The post from yesterday, the one where you submitted all those words? That was a secret contest. Everyone who entered a comment essentially participated, and one of you was the winner!

See, I never really check my site statistics. I’m not saying that in a douchey way that’s like, “I know the entire internet reads my site every day, and whatever.” I’m saying it more like, “I know people read because people comment. I could not care less how many people viewed my site between 2pm and 5am.” But then that made me think, “How many comments are there?” So I checked, and it turns out that it was almost 10,000. Ten thousand. I couldn’t believe it.

So I thought, “I should give something away to my 10,000 commenter,” and I know you guys always throw your two cents in whenever I ask for stuff that creates comments, so you did, and so I got a 10,000th commenter.

But then I found out that technically all the spam I get also counts as comments, so I’m actually somewhere closer to 9,240 “real” comments. Oh well, whatever. I already had the secret contest that you participated in without giving your consent, so we’re going to stick with the somewhat fudgeable 10,000th commenter. Are you pissed? You shouldn’t be. If I were you I’d wait to be pissed until after you find out I’ve sold your email addresses to spammers.

Anyway, the prize this time around was something besides the Berger Cookies I normally send out. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still sending the cookies. Of course I am. But I’m also sending a copy of the new book “Driving Sideways” by Jess Riley. I’ve been eagerly awaiting this book’s release since I first started reading Jess’s blog, and now it’ll be out in 6 days. Jess was kind enough to send me a copy to give out to one of you folks, so that’s what I’m doing. You get a book from an hilarious blogger AND cookies to boot!

So, do me a favor and check out Jess’s book, and maybe pick up a copy or seven for the summer. It’s a great beach book. Or if you go to the mountains or something, it’s great to read there. Or just out on the porch. Or inside on the couch. Or in bed. You can probably read it everywhere. In fact, you should read it everywhere. And when you’re done reading it, throw it away and buy and new copy, just to be on the safe side.

What? Oh, you want to know who won the contest? Oh, sorry. It was Your Neighborhood Librarian. I’ll send it, and the cookies, along once it arrives at my house.

Some more answers

Jumping back into the fray…

Liz says, “I thank whoever abused you in your youth for turning you into such a wonderfully bitter, yet oh-so-entertaining creature. I actually managed a smile today. Oh yeah. A question: what medication do you take (exactly) that allows you to think you are infinitely more awesome than the rest of us doorknobs? Some of us would really like some.”

Thanks? I think. Anyway, I don’t take any medication to know I am infinitely more awesome than the rest of you doorknobs. It’s actually pretty easy to achieve this state of being, and to do it completely drug free. (Unless you count beer as a drug.)

First, start a blog and slowly amass a readership with regular postings of your musings on day to day existence. Once you have a few readers under your belt start to rant and curse and swear and be obscene and make outrageous statements about necrophilia and eggnog. Once that’s done your audience will have somehow multiplied tenfold (for reasons completely unknown) which will inevitably lead to a swollen sense of self-worth. Use that over-inflated ego to fuel future bombast and you’re all set.

grammy says, “‘Insulting, combative, and bristly’ - Mrs. ACW is gifted with truth-telling powers. You were like an alcoholic, has-been boxer who is now a Fuller Brush Man. Which is funny. (To me, not to people who are really alcoholic has-been boxer Fuller Brush Men.) But that’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to ask where you come up with your ACW lingo? Such as ‘baby-maker’ which has so recently come in handy for me. Do you have staff writers?”

Thanks. No, I don’t have staff writers. The writing process goes like this:
-I sit and pluck at the keyboard seemingly at random until something funny starts coming out.
-I re-read the post and replace already funny words with words or terms that I think might be even funnier. For example, replacing vajayjay or dong (already funny) with baby-maker.
-Occasionally I have Mokie proofread it to make sure the jokes work the way I want them to work.
-Post!
That’s it.

Antonio says, “Do you hate the movie Ultraviolet as passionately as I do? Which is dumber, uggs or crocs? Who are some people who you think are awesome? (No fair saying Mrs. ACW or mokie, that’s cheating)”

Antonio, did you miss some of the rules? I think you did. Congratulations! You’re the first person to buck the rules regardless of what I said they were. You win whatever it is you find to the left of your monitor.
1) No, I don’t hate Ultraviolet at all: I’ve never seen it. But it is in my Netflix queue, and I imagine even then I won’t hate it. I’ve seen TONS of terrible movies but the only one I’ve really hated is that horrible shit-monster that refuses to die- Dr. T and the Women.
2) This is actually pretty tough, because they’re both really really dumb. Uggs, in fairness, seem to be able to provide some protection from cold in the winter, but wearing them in the summer is just idiotic. Conversely, crocs seem to be a great piece of footwear for ventilated toes in the summer, but they’re as ugly as a wart on a turd. Hmm… I guess I’d have to say that uggs are stupider because people wear them all year round, whereas I’ve not seen as many people wear crocs in the winter. But on second thought, crocs are gender neutral, so more people wear them. I guess I don’t know.
3) People I think are awesome… that’s tough too. There are a number of people who come to mind that I’ve never mentioned on the blog, and won’t mention now, but suffice it to say that they’re friends and family. Then there are musicians and actors that I think are awesome. And historical people that I think are awesome. The list is a long one, but if I had to pick a few off the top of my head I’d probably say William Shakespeare, Thomas Jefferson, Bob Marley, Salvador Dali, Charles Darwin, and Christopher Walken.

Anonymous says, “why did you decide to get married?”

And I answer.

Smart Ol’ Geezer says, “Tara’s in Port Jeff Station for $1 burgers! Just don’t wear a tank top or bring your motorcycle helmet into the bar.”

Um. Hooray?

johnny dollar says, “I like turtles.”

We all do, my friend. We all do.

missmargo says, “Would you like my recipe for Eggnog bread? It’s actually quite tasty.”

I don’t even know if I like eggnog. Wait, let me check my archives for a second… … … Yes! I apparently LOVE eggnog according to all the posts I’ve tagged with the word “nog”! Please email me the recipe!

Huw says, “Which book do you wish you’d written? Which film would you have been proud to have directed?”

Huw, you always know how to bring the good questions, but lucky for me, this is something that I’ve thought about quite a bit. There are two books that I wish I’d written. The first one is Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy because it’s just so damn dense. I’ve written about it before, but to summarize that post I’ll just say that I’d wish I’d written it because of how carefully he uses the exactly perfect word in every sentence of the entire book. It’s spectacular. The other book is You Shall Know Our Velocity by Dave Eggers. I know this makes me out as some sort of hipster literary snob douchebag, but I don’t care. I really like the way Eggers plays with the medium of the book itself while also keeping focused on the story. It’s not something that everyone can do, and he does it well, so I’m a bit envious.

There are quite a few films that I would have been proud to have directed, among them are anything by the Coen brothers, Christopher Guest, Tim Burton, Martin Scorcese, Stephen Soderbergh, Spike Jones, Wes Anderson, Guy Ritchie, Mel Brooks, Edgar Wright, and some of Peter Jackson’s work (I’m sure I’m also forgetting a few). But if I had to pick a specific film I think I’d have to go with Apocalypse Now. Coppola had a fantastic cast to work with, an immense area to shoot in, and an extremely important story to tell. I can’t watch the movie very frequently because of how much it unsettles me. I think that would have to be the one.

Charm City Barfly says, “Do you think they should bring back MST3K and, if so, do you think I would be the perfect host for it?”

This is a tough question because of the circumstances that would lead to one answer or another. Yes, I think they should bring back MST3K, but no, I don’t think you would be the perfect host for it. I thought Mike (not Joel) was the perfect host, and if they brought it back, he should host it again. However, were you to come up with your own format for an MST3K-esque show, then yes, I would say you would be the perfect host for that.

stephanie says, “I don’t have a question, I just an have an answer for Charm City Barfly: Yes. They should bring back MST3K.”

I agree, they absolutely should bring it back as opposed to the schism they have now.

Maven says, “But where-oh-where will I go for a regular dose of ‘insulting, combative, and bristly’ blog posts… I mean… besides Mighty Dyckerson? However, Dyckerson doesn’t have your knack for stringing incongruous expletives together with finesse like you do.”

This one is easy. Start reading the blog from the beginning, and after a while you’ll be nipples-deep in “incongruous expletives” like this one: god-damned frog-shitting pickle-fucker. There’s almost four years of content there, and I’m sure that should keep you busy for at least a weekend.

Claude says, “I’ve been reading your site for quite awhile now, and I think that I know you well enough that I’m comfortable asking this question: What time is it?” Right now it’s… 10:15:41.

And that’s it! Thanks for playing!

Some answers

Let’s just get down to business, shall we?

S. Reed says, “I have only one question: Why does your farewell tour include mercilessly abusing your readers?”

You’ve got it all wrong! I don’t abuse my readers, they abuse themselves. Every day my readers could be doing something else. They could be learning about the world by reading any number of online newspapers and academic journals. They could play a game of Scrabble with a friend. They could watch movies or listen to music. They could do any number of things to better their lives, but they instead choose to come to my site and punish their brains with a near incessant fire hose of pablum. So though I may be caustic, the abuse is self-inflicted.

Karla says, “This would be so exciting, if only I were interested in you in some way.”

Ha! Just like a stupid woman to say something like that. It’s not even a question! I’d teach you how to properly form a question but I’d be afraid that you’d use your newfound knowledge to better stalk your longtime target of obsession: Don Henley.

elise says, “Do guys REALLY want to have sex all the time? I mean, what if I hadn’t showered in three days, had just come back from jogging, and then cleaned all the toilets? With my bare hands? Would my husband want to have sex with me THEN?”

Elise, this is a tough question for two reasons: I can’t reasonably speak for all men, and having never met your husband cannot speak for him either. However I think we can develop a chart to show how this might work. Imagine a line that increases for perceived level of “hotness” and a line that decreases for a perceived level of “dirtiness”. This chart would show that low hotness and high dirtiness would result in fewer thoughts about sex, while high hotness and low dirtiness would result in more thoughts about sex. The tricky part is the area where hotness becomes average and dirtiness becomes average as well. Then again for some people, the dirtiness might increase the hotness, so you may just want to ignore this whole theorem and simply have sex with your husband whenever he wants to do so, regardless of your cleanliness.

johnny dollar says, “what is the difference between?”

Tricky. In this case, looking at the query from multiple perspectives (including, but not limited to: philosophy, psychology, theology, literature, poetry, art history, grammar, and science), there are a number of conclusions that one can draw, the least of which involving no less than the entire thinking power of a group of people whose numbers mirror the population of a state somewhere between South Dakota and North Carolina, especially when giving consideration to the variance of the ontological while simultaneously exploring the hegemonic doctrine of the post-modern narrative, I could only say the answer is.

Skinny Monkey says “Coming out of lurkerdom, why is the last ever? Yes, that’s my question.

This is the last ever because a) it takes a lot of effort to answer all these questions, and b) the blog is ending on August 27th of this year, and c) I don’t really anticipate having another Ask the ACW session between now and then.

Charm City Barfly says, “Why do your stupid rules suck big donkey balls? Oh, yeah. I went there. Biotch.”

What can I say? They learned it from watching you.

ThreadedClown says, “I stumbled across your blog back in January, but I wish I had found it earlier…I can’t get enough! What does Mokie think about your quitting blogging? Has he been threatening you and throwing rocks through your windshield? Or does he do that on a regular basis anyway?”

Nope, he hasn’t threatened me at all. In fact, I’d say he’s probably relieved. Every time something goes wrong, or needs to be changed, or updated, or fixed, he’s the one that ends up handling it. If anything my quitting blogging will save him from having to hear me whining about whatever might currently be going wrong with the site. Besides, if he ever tried to throw a rock through my windshield I’d kick him right in the peener.

Caroline says, “How could your wife tell the difference between you being “insulting, combative, and bristly” and you being your regular self? I thought that WAS your regular self. Can you translate that into Latin and put it on a family crest? And what symbols would you put on your escutcheon if you were to design one, I mean a real one and not just one of those ghastly fake “family tree” crests the computers will generate for you at the mall? I have my own theories but I want to see if I’m right.”

Let’s see, I’d probably have an escutcheon with a party per bend sinister with the dexter chief field being ermines and the sinister base field being erminois, and I like the idea of a charge at the fess point, but I’m not married to the idea. I’d have two supporters: the dexter supporter would be a zombie, and the sinister supporter would be a pirate. The compartment, wreath, and manting would be simple and understated, perhaps resembling fog, and the helm would be the hockey mask from Friday the 13th. I think I’d probably skip the crest. And of course, the motto would be at the base and would read, “Vituperium, Pugnax, Iratus”.

Is that what you had in mind?

Savage Bliss says, “Yah, there’s definitely a “Fuck you, readers” vibe. I have no questions that wouldn’t violate one or more rules.”

Wow, I must have come off as I lot angrier that I thought I had. I figured I was just setting up a little banter for the Q&A. I remember the last time I specifically clarified my feelings on necrophilia only to field a dozen questions on the exact same topic. I figured I’d egg people on a bit to see if they’d bite and go for more of the same, but I guess I was a bit overzealous. My bad, y’all.

Lori says, “Why did Government officials, who claim to be all free market and against welfare of any kind, provide money to Bear Stearns for that whole JP Morgan buy out bullshit? HUH? WHY!??!?!!??!?! And why won’t my lender reduce my principal on my loan? I mean….The governement does that shit all the time, why can’t *I* get a break on paying *MY* mortgage? HUH?!?!?!?!?”

Simple, they’re hypocrites. Everybody with money is all “free market! free market!” until it’s convenient to them for it not to be that way. That’s why they continue to have all the money. If it was really a free market, we’d all have a better chance of getting a piece of that pie.

Secondly, because you are a sucker, and it is your fault that you haven’t pulled yourself up by the bootstraps, embraced free market economics, invisible hand of the market, welfare queens, affirmative action, and other republican economic talking points.

Matt says, “Caroline, I might be able to answer that- It would probably be an Ouroboros, since we all know that ACW doesn’t really have a family tree. It’s more like a family wreath.”

Oh, man, that’s so funny. An incest joke! Ha ha ha. Oh, yeah, that’s hilarious. I’m sure your mom will find it funny when I’m boning her later tonight.
(Actually, I did laugh out loud when I read your comment, but felt compelled to not give you your props right away because you didn’t ask a question. Douche.)

Anonymous says, “My question is: Would you do us the service of creating some ACW shirts at CafePress? Cuz I’d be all over that like stank on Shiite! Maybe after you are off the air, the back could say 404… just a thot…”

So, the short answer is a “no” with a “but”. Here’s the long answer: No, I won’t be creating any shirts for the ACW site on CafePress for numerous reasons like my terrible design ability, my lack of interest, my lack of time, and other such reasons. I also won’t be doing it because I don’t own the now iconic image of the Anonymous Coworker by the water cooler. That was created for me by Common Wombat, and I’d be loathe to earn money off of his hard work. Also, I’ve briefly thought of earning money through the sale of items by way of CafePress, but those ideas quickly fizzled for a few reasons, some of which are listed above, and some of which are related to my feelings on advertising in general. I’ve never really wanted to advertise on this site, despite the fact that I get enough hits that I think it would actually be able to make me some money, even if it’s only a few dollars per month. I’ve kept the site donation/advertisement/product free because I want it that way. I don’t want anyone to ever feel compelled to pay for what they find here. I write because I want to, and you can read or not read if you want to, but I don’t want anyone to feel guilty for reading and not paying for something, so I removed that option from the equation entirely. (My Amazon wishlist, however, is an altogether different matter, and you should feel compelled to shower me with trinkets constantly.)

Here’s the “but”: But, if YOU (any of you) wanted to create some ACW stuff to sell, that would be fine with me. I’ll probably regret typing that, but I can’t really think of any reason why any of you making ACW shirts would make my life any more difficult, especially considering that this blog is four months from ever being updated again.

More answers later, or tomorrow.

It pays to be an atheist.

Literally.

soul check

Suck it you soul-burdened paupers!

(Apparently my friend has been shopping this check around his workplace since halfway through March with no takers. He offered it to me and after declining, my younger brother reminded me I was an atheist. So I says, “Oh yeah! Gimme that check.” I am off to cash it now.

I am willing to sell my soul to anyone else who wants it. You can all fight over rightful ownership during the apocalypse.)

You thought yesterday was bad

Yeah, that’s all I got, and it’s just the type of mood I’m in.

Okay, here’s more things that I find funny at Bjork’s expense:

And finally, to show that you don’t fuck with Iceland, Bjork whooping some ass:

There’s a reason I don’t do these

Because I didn’t have anything else to write about today, and because I was explicitly tagged by Jess, here’s a meme.

The rules:

1. Link back to the person who tagged you. [done!]

2. Post these rules on your blog. [done!]

3. Share six unimportant things about yourself. [done momentarily!]

4. Tag six random people at the end of your entry. [bite me!]

* * * Six Unimportant Things about ACW * * *

1) Oh wow. This is kind of hard. (That’s what SHE said! Ha!) Okay, so let’s make that number one: I’m hopelessly addicted to bad jokes and puns. The lamer it is, the harder I laugh. Seriously. Mrs. ACW, on the other hand, is a horrible harpy who will never laugh when I make a bad pun, but she’ll let loose an eye-bulging guffaw if my dad tells the exact same joke. She says it’s because he tells bad jokes better, but I think it’s just because she’s a whore.

2) I never really ever had a pet until we got Sherlock and Wookie. Yes, I was deprived. (Also, I don’t really think Mrs. ACW is a whore.)

3) Let’s see, unimportant things. Hmm. See, the trouble with this is that anything that comes to mind is actually a relatively important thing to know about me. For example, I could say that I like to have beer served at different temperatures depending on the brew (pilsners colder, stouts warmer, etc.), and that’s a relatively unimportant thing to know about me… unless you’re serving me a beer. Then it’s suddenly something that would be important, especially if you don’t want me to kick you squarely in the baby-maker.

4) Whatever, that last one totally does TOO count as something unimportant. What? No, it’s irrelevant that I showed a way in which it could be considered important. Whatever. Shut up. Go fuck yourself.

5) You wanna say that over here? What? Yeah, come say it to my face. Yeah. That’s what I thought.

6) Are you still reading? I’m not either. Do you think anyone will notice that I cheated for about half of these? No? You’re probably right. Pretty much the only people that read my blog anymore are you and your mom. And your mom only reads because I’m bonin’ her. Yes. Right now. Even if you’re with her right now, and you can look at her and see that I’m not bonin’ her, rest assured that I will as soon as you look away, and then if you look back real fast you might catch a glimpse of me, but eventually you’ll turn away again and I’ll be back there again, poundin’ the meatloaf. What? Don’t get mad at ME. That’s what SHE calls it.

I guess I’m not really good at memes.

Presented without comment

Posted by: mokiejovis

I just had some sales guy call me. Here’s a general transcript:

Sales guy: Hi, I’m with Some Company, and I got your information from That Other Company. Blah blah buzzword blah buzzword blah blah bullshit?
Me: We don’t have anything like that here, so I don’t need to buy your product.
Sales guy: Oh, you don’t have any blah blah bullshit?
Me: No, we don’t.
Sales guy: Okay, well, can I just send you an email every once and a while to keep you apprised of our products?
Me: Sure. Sounds good.
Sales guy: And … your email address is…?
Me: Who did you say you were again?
Sales guy: I’m with Some Company? We specialize in-
Me: Where’d you get my name and number from?
Sales guy: We got that from That Other Company…?
Me: I don’t know who they are.
Sales guy: [laughs nervously] Oh… um…
Me: I’m not comfortable giving you my information. Goodbye.

Eggnog tomorrow

For now, this:

I went to the Showalter/Black show last night at the Ottobar and good grief was it hysterical. I hadn’t expected a comedy show to be so well wired. If I see Michael Ian Black with another giant fuchsia cartoon penis in his mouth (as illustrated by Michael Showalter on his laptop while Black was telling jokes, no less), I’m buying it.

Is Columbus, Ohio in da hizzay?

Can you help a brother out with some restaurant recommendations? In return, the next time I call the internet “bitches” or “fuckfaces” or “effluvium-snorting cock-holes” you will be excluded.




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