Thoughts, Observations, and Solutions:
Word of the Decade: ANTITRUST.
Pixar's UP is now available on DVD and Blu-Ray. When I saw it in the theater, I thought it was a triumph in filmmaking. Beautiful, funny, and heart-rending. It deserves serious consideration for Best Picture. However, I do have one interesting observation about it. For those who are familiar with the film, it is one of Disney's most unabashedly real family films. Absolute tragedy strikes in the film's [masterful] first 10 minutes, with death a looming theme. In fact, everything is going south for poor old Carl until the first instance of fantasy about 25 minutes in, in which he makes his house float like a blimp using hundreds of helium-inflated balloons. Using that plot device, UP does a complete 180.
From tragic to uplifting. No pun intended!
Without that departure from reality, he would probably have died... sad and alone. A burnt out shell of his once-youthful self. I think this is a great example of augmented reality helping out a storyline, but there are other interpretations as well. For example, did Carl really make his house float with balloons protruding from his fireplace? It should be noted that this tired old fart gets nimbler as the movie progresses, to the point of being a borderline action hero. There's so much feel-good wish fulfillment in this movie that upon leaving the theater, I was convinced that the dying Carl dreamed the whole thing up. Flying houses, Carl's now-centurian childhero hero alive and living in the mountains, a nearly crippled old man fulfilling his wife's last wishes by traveling across the world in an aeronautical Victorian... talking dogs! I'm amazed that I haven't heard this theory anywhere else on the internet.
Ultimately, it makes me wish that we could inject some fantasy into the lives of real nursing home occupants. A chance to give them one last adventure and a way to make things right, even if it's all in their heads. Perhaps virtual reality will one day provide such an escape. In any event, I intend to live my life right the first time.
Pranks You Shouldn't Pull: Replacing somebody's entire stash of personal lubricant with Frank's RedHot.
Solution: Y'ever have a fart that rubs you just the right way? I call that a fartgasm. It's a pleasurable experience, much like pushing a 32oz sirloin through your bowels and past your G-spot. As lumbersome as a 12-pack of ping pong balls or a pint of cement, but significantly less dangerous! Personally, I'd love to use a Snickers bar to massage my prostate... but that'd create a startling visual ambiguity that I'm not prepared for.
Another thing: As an earthy, tactile person, I like to liven up my masturbation. For years I've looked to the internet, as its Pornography Tree bears much fruit. Money doesn't grow on trees, true, but pr0n does... and that tree is on Interweb Hill. Here's what I like to do. To really set the scene for POV videos, I keep a bowl of fresh fish nearby. Preferably flounder. Just the smell of that underwater denizen puts me right in the moment. If I'm watching a slightly more rotund woman getting reamed, a quick and easy form of Smell-o-Vision can be achieved by simply giving myself a shit mustache. Nothing says realism like the rank odor of somebody's sphincter, up close and personal!
Observation: Jazz Apples™. Maybe I'm daft, but this company may be the first I've seen using infidelity as a marketing device.
"Fool around on your fries!" "Cheat on your chocolate!"
Admittedly, it's cute. I'm just a concerned about the future of monogamy if even mainstream advertising is beginning to accept alternatives. I love polyamory, I do... but what's next? Mickey Mouse eating out Daisy Duck while Minnie is at work? Prince Charming finding a good lay that'll stay over past midnight? Aladdin sneaking out on Jasmine at 3AM to pound some gypsy under the moonlight? We can only hope.
Thought: A fling is a little like a test drive. Or a trial subscription.
"Ah, you can try 1 or 2 body parts out tonight...
...Oh, you know what? Why don't I just give you a free trial?"
Observation: It's 15 degrees, windy, and the Salvation Army guy is standing 5 feet outside of Shaw's, ringing a fucking bell for pocket change. There is a lot of wrong happening here. First of all, it's the 21st century. Hell, the noughties are over. Why the bell? Second thing, why can't this poor bastard stand inside the building? As it stands, he's basically a glorified street beggar.
Thought: A few weeks ago, I informed y'all that I'm working for a financial company now. I'm a customer service representive for a mutual fund settlement administration. Basically, a shareholder gets a court settlement check in the mail, and I have to tell them what to do with it. Fun shit. Notably because most of the callers are either geriatric, or yuppies so far up their own ass that they can't breathe properly. It hasn't been all bad, though, as occasionally I get really entertaining callers. They fall into one of two categories:
A. Belligerent, misinformed whorebags. Typically I have nothing but "bad" news for them, and thus they're pissed to high heaven and there's not a thing that their dead god can do for them. Yet they continue to whine and moan, while I'm obligated to maintain a professional tone over the phone. You learn early on in training for the CSR position to "kill customers with kindness." Well... killing is fun.
B. Really cool, down-to-earth folks. It makes sense, doesn't it? But sometimes they go the extra mile, and keep you smiling for the duration of the call. Like the couple that wanted to have their payment check reissued, but unfortunately needed authorization from the woman's ex-husband. The same ex-husband that apparently never forwards his ex-wife's mail when he receives it, regardless of the importance. The very same man that pisses on his ex's flowers every time he is in the neighborhood, including the time he flung an entire gallon of urine at her front porch on Thanksgiving. I think his name was Roberto Gonzalez.
Roberto, where ever you are... thanks.
Solution: Christmas is over, but here's a helpful tip for next year that I've employed time and time again. Don't know what to get your loved ones? Before that big family gathering, hit up Whole Foods and grab a fistful of gift cards! Make sure to include multiple retailers in random denominations, whatever you can afford. When it's time to unwrap the presents, just shuffle and deal 'em like playing cards! If you're adept at doing tricks, even better. This way you won't be stressed over holiday shopping, and you'll be seen as charming and spontaneous.
Thus everybody's happy! I know my cousin Tom loved his $50 gift certificate at Forever 21.
Word of the Decade: ANTITRUST.
Pixar's UP is now available on DVD and Blu-Ray. When I saw it in the theater, I thought it was a triumph in filmmaking. Beautiful, funny, and heart-rending. It deserves serious consideration for Best Picture. However, I do have one interesting observation about it. For those who are familiar with the film, it is one of Disney's most unabashedly real family films. Absolute tragedy strikes in the film's [masterful] first 10 minutes, with death a looming theme. In fact, everything is going south for poor old Carl until the first instance of fantasy about 25 minutes in, in which he makes his house float like a blimp using hundreds of helium-inflated balloons. Using that plot device, UP does a complete 180.
From tragic to uplifting. No pun intended!
Without that departure from reality, he would probably have died... sad and alone. A burnt out shell of his once-youthful self. I think this is a great example of augmented reality helping out a storyline, but there are other interpretations as well. For example, did Carl really make his house float with balloons protruding from his fireplace? It should be noted that this tired old fart gets nimbler as the movie progresses, to the point of being a borderline action hero. There's so much feel-good wish fulfillment in this movie that upon leaving the theater, I was convinced that the dying Carl dreamed the whole thing up. Flying houses, Carl's now-centurian childhero hero alive and living in the mountains, a nearly crippled old man fulfilling his wife's last wishes by traveling across the world in an aeronautical Victorian... talking dogs! I'm amazed that I haven't heard this theory anywhere else on the internet.
Ultimately, it makes me wish that we could inject some fantasy into the lives of real nursing home occupants. A chance to give them one last adventure and a way to make things right, even if it's all in their heads. Perhaps virtual reality will one day provide such an escape. In any event, I intend to live my life right the first time.
Pranks You Shouldn't Pull: Replacing somebody's entire stash of personal lubricant with Frank's RedHot.
Solution: Y'ever have a fart that rubs you just the right way? I call that a fartgasm. It's a pleasurable experience, much like pushing a 32oz sirloin through your bowels and past your G-spot. As lumbersome as a 12-pack of ping pong balls or a pint of cement, but significantly less dangerous! Personally, I'd love to use a Snickers bar to massage my prostate... but that'd create a startling visual ambiguity that I'm not prepared for.
Another thing: As an earthy, tactile person, I like to liven up my masturbation. For years I've looked to the internet, as its Pornography Tree bears much fruit. Money doesn't grow on trees, true, but pr0n does... and that tree is on Interweb Hill. Here's what I like to do. To really set the scene for POV videos, I keep a bowl of fresh fish nearby. Preferably flounder. Just the smell of that underwater denizen puts me right in the moment. If I'm watching a slightly more rotund woman getting reamed, a quick and easy form of Smell-o-Vision can be achieved by simply giving myself a shit mustache. Nothing says realism like the rank odor of somebody's sphincter, up close and personal!
Observation: Jazz Apples™. Maybe I'm daft, but this company may be the first I've seen using infidelity as a marketing device.
"Fool around on your fries!" "Cheat on your chocolate!"
Admittedly, it's cute. I'm just a concerned about the future of monogamy if even mainstream advertising is beginning to accept alternatives. I love polyamory, I do... but what's next? Mickey Mouse eating out Daisy Duck while Minnie is at work? Prince Charming finding a good lay that'll stay over past midnight? Aladdin sneaking out on Jasmine at 3AM to pound some gypsy under the moonlight? We can only hope.
Thought: A fling is a little like a test drive. Or a trial subscription.
"Ah, you can try 1 or 2 body parts out tonight...
...Oh, you know what? Why don't I just give you a free trial?"
Observation: It's 15 degrees, windy, and the Salvation Army guy is standing 5 feet outside of Shaw's, ringing a fucking bell for pocket change. There is a lot of wrong happening here. First of all, it's the 21st century. Hell, the noughties are over. Why the bell? Second thing, why can't this poor bastard stand inside the building? As it stands, he's basically a glorified street beggar.
Thought: A few weeks ago, I informed y'all that I'm working for a financial company now. I'm a customer service representive for a mutual fund settlement administration. Basically, a shareholder gets a court settlement check in the mail, and I have to tell them what to do with it. Fun shit. Notably because most of the callers are either geriatric, or yuppies so far up their own ass that they can't breathe properly. It hasn't been all bad, though, as occasionally I get really entertaining callers. They fall into one of two categories:
A. Belligerent, misinformed whorebags. Typically I have nothing but "bad" news for them, and thus they're pissed to high heaven and there's not a thing that their dead god can do for them. Yet they continue to whine and moan, while I'm obligated to maintain a professional tone over the phone. You learn early on in training for the CSR position to "kill customers with kindness." Well... killing is fun.
B. Really cool, down-to-earth folks. It makes sense, doesn't it? But sometimes they go the extra mile, and keep you smiling for the duration of the call. Like the couple that wanted to have their payment check reissued, but unfortunately needed authorization from the woman's ex-husband. The same ex-husband that apparently never forwards his ex-wife's mail when he receives it, regardless of the importance. The very same man that pisses on his ex's flowers every time he is in the neighborhood, including the time he flung an entire gallon of urine at her front porch on Thanksgiving. I think his name was Roberto Gonzalez.
Roberto, where ever you are... thanks.
Solution: Christmas is over, but here's a helpful tip for next year that I've employed time and time again. Don't know what to get your loved ones? Before that big family gathering, hit up Whole Foods and grab a fistful of gift cards! Make sure to include multiple retailers in random denominations, whatever you can afford. When it's time to unwrap the presents, just shuffle and deal 'em like playing cards! If you're adept at doing tricks, even better. This way you won't be stressed over holiday shopping, and you'll be seen as charming and spontaneous.
Thus everybody's happy! I know my cousin Tom loved his $50 gift certificate at Forever 21.
posted by Jeff at
8:58 AM
3 Comments:
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