The International Rule of Breathtaking

Robert Burden spent an entire year both painting this giant Voltron and painstakingly capturing his progress that he might compile it in the form of time-lapse photography for our consumption.

Bear witness:


Thus:

1. Bask in your childhood, shed a tear.
2. I arrogantly assume everyone who reads this was born the same year as me.
3. Oh, I'm pretty certain you all watched Voltron as well.
4. I don't care what forms of art you're into (or not into). You have to admire the scope of this project.
5. Michelangelo wishes he had a digital camera.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of "Dear God, Please Make Me a Bird, So I Can Fly Far...Far, Far Away"

Holy crap.

Okay, I admit it, as a vegetarian I'm probably biased. Then again, somehow I can wrap my head around hunting if it means feeding and clothing your family. This game, on the other hand, is just insane.

It's called The Lobster Zone. The object of the game is somewhat familiar: put some money into the machine and operate a crane designed to allow you to capture the lobster of your choice for consumption. That is to say, the restaurant hosting the game will cook your catch for you at the point of sale.

Here's an example of a successful participant:


I'm not going to preach to anyone about the merits of vegetarianism. Eat all the meat and fish you want, even in front of me. But there's something to be said about playing a game normally relegated to stuffed animals in order to take an innocent life. I can't quite put a finger on it.

Is it a lack of humility? A lack of appreciation? I don't know.

Perhaps this guy can explain it to me:



Thus:

1. If you happen to come across The Lobster Zone, be a pal and order the steak.
2. If they ask you to shoot the cow associated with said steak, consider the chicken.
3. Everyone knows chickens don't have feelings.
4. Just like lobsters.
5. And humans.
6. Check out their website. They have additional videos and even a "Lobster Logic" section, where in addition to becoming a distributor of this fine product, you can learn how to put a lobster into a light sleep prior to killing it. (Hint: place it on its back.)

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of I Honestly Don't Know What I'm Trying To Achieve With This Post

So there's this game for the iPhone called Pocket Jockey. It's a horse racing simulator that allows you to shake and whip your way to the Triple Crown, only there's a unique twist to the concept.

According to the developers (well, I'm paraphrasing here), you place the phone in your back pocket and have at it, repeatedly thrusting and spanking your derriére until, er, you win, since, quite frankly, at that point loosing is not an option.

Watch the following demonstration video and share your thoughts.



Thus:

1. Look, I already told you I didn't know what I was trying to achieve.
2. I am 100% certain those girls are from Los Angeles, bless their hearts.
3. Just like the fingering game below (the video has been removed, so I'm not linking to it), if you happen to try this game, film yourself and send the video to me. I will make you famous.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of Alternatives

UPDATE 11/15/08: The infamous drawing sells on eBay for $10,000! Thanks to Alec G. for sending this in.

It always baffles me to no end that our system of bartering has been, for the most part, reduced to instances of dollars and cents in exchange for goods and services.

Case in point: I am currently in possession of no less than three reams of paper. I also currently owe approximately $9 on my Netflix account. Now, I can state with 100% certainty that somewhere down the line the Netflix corporation will be purchasing at the very least three reams of paper, if not hundreds. These particular reams of paper are worth approximately $5.39 each -- plus tax!

Assuming Netflix, in all its purchasing glory, enjoys a bulk discount on its paper and pays, say, $4/ream, ceteris paribus, wouldn't it be to their benefit to simply accept my reams in lieu of the $9 I owe? By my calculations, they stand to profit quite handsomely!

Turns out the brilliant David Thorne thought very much the same, only the value proposition at hand was slightly more subjective:

Thus:

1. Suggest to your creditors different means of payment.
2. When they deny your request, persist.
3. Sweeten the deal if you have to.
4. Which includes happy endings.
5. Remember the guy who traded a paperclip for a house? Genius.
6. This is the future of business, ladies and gentleman, especially given the climate. Once again, history saves us.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try. Thanks to Geekologie for this dazzling story.

The International Rule of Ridiculously Frustrating

This game is unbelievably hard. It's called Qwop, named after the four keys you use in manipulating portions of this runner's asinine legs.

Thus:

1. Beat my paltry 10.6 meters.
2. Make fun of the fact that I actually walk that way.
3. Post your scores here.

4:47AM update: I finally beat it. Ha!



It's really goddamn hard and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much worse. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of Circuit City Should Have Hired Björk

As bankruptcy looms over Circuit City (I guess I wasn't just joking when I said nobody shopped there), I can't help but think they could have been helped a great deal by hiring a more informed staff.

Take Björk, for instance. She does a better job of explaining how televisions -- specifically, CRTs -- work than any salesperson to ever walk the shitty Circuit City layouts. Hint: she uses the phrase "You shouldn't poets lie to you."



Thus:

1. If you really want your company to succeed, hire the right people.
2. Pay them what they're worth.
3. Or, simply, hire Björk.
4. If you're reading this, Björk, I'd really like an explanation of plasma televisions as well.
5. According to her story, she only stopped being scared of TV that very morning.
   

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of Yes We Can

Thus:

1. We did it. Our lives really will be | | <~~ that much better.

The International Rule of GET OUT AND VOTE

What the hell are you doing reading this?

Thus:

1. If you haven't already, get your lazy ass up and vote.
2. If you already voted, go vote again. That's the only way we can make up for all the extra votes the electronic machines will give McCain (don't kid yourself, mostly liberals read this site).
3. And if you're in California, ask yourself seriously whether you should mind your own business. You know what I'm talking about.
   

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of Wrap Rage

This is just in from Amazon, and I'm totally stoked.


Thus:

1. Every company, especially ones of Amazon's size, should be working with manufacturers to do this, starting...now.
   
2. As consumers, we can vote with our dollars by buying products that emphasize this style of packaging, if not for the fact that it's less frustrating, then for the environmental benefits.
3. It adds up!

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of Fingering

No, it isn't what you think.

That is, unless you thought I would be posting another video for lack of time but want of presence.

Anyway, it really does speak for itself.

Update: Those bastards took the video down!





Thus:

1. Buy this game.
2. Now.
3. Stick your finger in it.
4. Film yourself.
5. Send it to me.
6. I will post.
7. After you're done with the game, pay it forward. Let someone else have a go.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of Investment Banking

Clearly, I'm too busy for this site -- which is, of course, not to say I'm too good for this site, or for you, my eleventeen readers. I miss you very, very much. Come June, watch out.

That said:



Thus:

1. No matter what anyone says, don't believe that wasn't real. It's as real as it gets.
2. Yes, yes you are indeed in Brooklyn. I'm sorry.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of Rubbernecking

Most people, especially those of us who do not enjoy world-class public transportation systems, fail to realize that driving is a privilege and not a right.

It could, of course, be because in places like California, as opposed to say, Germany (where requirements are very stringent), they license just about anyone. There really isn’t much you have to do to qualify to legally operate a vehicle other than meet or exceed a minimum age (with no maximum, mind you), take a short test, drive with the person most likely to be the creepiest to ever sit in your passenger seat, and sign on the X.

Lackadaisical licensing requirements could also explain certain other vehicular anomalies as taking 40-minutes to parallel park your SUV, where the negligence of, say, running a red light and killing a family, is less a factor than the ability to judge distance--a skill which, even if you’re one-eyed and lack depth perception you could probably still master with a few formal lessons.

But one thing the aforementioned does not explain, one thing that is, perhaps, among the most obnoxious of all encounters in the course of a driver’s career, is the concept of rubbernecking. In fact, there is no better explanation for this than plain old curiosity. Then ignorance.

To put it simply, if you’re not already aware, rubbernecking occurs when, as you’re driving along in your automobile, you notice something like the aftermath of a collision, or fire, or murder scene, or tear in the fabric of time and space, is happening somewhere other than the road you are presently occupying, and, of course, you turn your head--the rubber neck, so to speak--to look, taking in the marvel of the human drama before you.

What you forget, however, is that while paying morbid attention to the fallen motorcyclist on the other side of the freeway you’re no longer paying attention to the road in front of you, during which several things can happen, such as an accident of your very own, or, much more frequently, a chain reaction of unnecessarily reduced traffic speeds since you probably also slowed down to really savor the carnage.

I do admit that there might be other reasons aside from curiosity causing this ridiculousness. What if you could help? What if they need your particular brand of CPR, which you soaked in while watching from the doorway of another classroom while you were supposed to be doing parachute with your kid in Mommy and Me class? See, I’m reasonable!

Thus:

1. It’s deceivingly simple: don’t look.
2. But if you’re extremely curious and you just absolutely can’t help it, it’s even easier: don’t look.
3. Move on.
4. Read about chaos theory and why your looking sucks so much ass for the people behind you.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of LOLspeak Should Die

Aside from SPAM, LOLspeak is among the the single most asinine phenomena to poop from the Interweb since its inception back when Al Gore was still his droll self.

I have an incredible idea: let's take well-known and readily-understood words and butcher them so effectively that they're rendered unreadable to the extent that we essentially obliterate what's left of the English language.

Now, despite the former, I refuse to turn this into one of those hyper-pretentious rants about the preservation of the beautiful and ever-contradictory nature of English--the Ebonics battle did enough of that; but whereas Ebonics has its place as an actual dialect (sort of), LOLspeak is just a slap in the face to your audience, to your family and friends, to your schoolteachers, and, most importantly, to yourself.

For your reference, I'll translate a couple of things into LOLspeak. See if you cringe the way I do.

Let's start with a passage from the bible, Luke something or other. (By the way, I think Kobe's lawyers used this as part of his defense):

16And he told them this parable: "The ground of a certain rich man produced a good crop.

17He thought to himself, 'What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.'

18"Then he said, 'This is what I'll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods.

19And I'll say to myself, "You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry." '

20"But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?'

21"This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich toward God."

Translation:

16AND HE TOLD THEM DIS PARABLE: "TEH GROUND OV CERTAIN RICH MAN PRODUCD GUD CROP.

17HE THOT 2 HIM, WUT SHALL I DOEZ? I HAS NO PLACE 2 STORE MAH CROPS.

18"DEN HE SED, DIS AR TEH WUT ILL DO. IM GONNA TEAR DOWN MAH BARNS AN BUILD BIGGR ONEZ, AN THAR IM GONNA STORE ALL MAH GRAIN AN MAH GOODZ.

19AND ILL SAY 2 MYSELF, "U HAS PLENTY OV GUD THINGS LAID UP 4 LOTZ DA YEERS. TAEK LIFE EASY; EAT, DRINK AN BE MERRY."

20"BUT CEILIN CAT SED 2 HIM, U FOOL! DIS VRY NITE UR LIFE WILL BE DEMANDD FRUM U. DEN HOO WILL GIT WUT U HAS PREPARD 4 YOURSELF?

21"DIS AR TEH HOW IT WILL BE WIF ANYONE HOO STOREZ UP THINGS 4 HIM BUT IZ NOT RICH TOWARD CEILIN CAT."

And what if I wrote this post in LOLspeak?

ASIDE FRUM SPAM, LOLSPEAK IZ AMONG TEH TEH SINGLE MOST ASININE FENOMENA 2 POOP FRUM TEH INTERWEB SINCE ITZ INCEPSHUN BAK WHEN AL GORE WUZ STILL HIS DROLL SELF.

I HAS AN INCREDIBLE IDEA: LETS TAEK WELL-KNOWN AN READILY-UNDERSTOOD WERDZ AN BUTCHR THEM SO EFFECTIVELY DAT THEYRE RENDERD UNREADABLE 2 TEH EXTENT DAT WE EFFECTIVELY OBLITERATE WUTS LEFT OV TEH ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

NAO, DESPITE TEH FORMR, I REFUSE 2 TURN DIS INTO WAN OV DOSE HYPR-PRETENSHUS RANTS BOUT TEH PRESERVASHUN OV TEH BEAUTIFUL AN EVR-CONTRADICTORY NACHUR OV ENGLISH--TEH EBONICS BATTLE DID ENOUGH OV DAT; BUT WHEREAS EBONICS HAS ITZ PLACE AS AN AKSHUL DIALECT--SORT OV--LOLSPEAK IZ JUS SLAP IN DA FACE 2 UR AUDIENCE, 2 UR PPLZ AN FRENZ, 2 UR SCHOOLTEACHERS, AN, MOST IMPORTANTLY, 2 YOURSELF.

Doesn't it make you want to bash your face into a wall?

Thus:

1. Never, ever, ever write in LOLspeak, unless you are doing so to berate the practice of writing in LOLspeak.
2. While you're at it, take the extra three-seconds to properly type your text messages as well, punctuation and capitalization included.
3. I absolutely hate LOLspeak. You probably should too.

THUS:

1. NEVR, EVR, EVR RITE IN LOLSPEAK, UNLES U R DOIN SO 2 BERATE TEH PRACTICE OV WRITIN IN LOLSPEAK.
2. WHILE URE AT IT, TAEK TEH EXTRA 3-SECONDZ 2 PROPERLY TYPE UR TEXT MESAGEZ AS WELL, PUNCTUASHUN AN CAPITALIZASHUN INCLUDD.
3. I ABSOLUTELY HATE LOLSPEAK. U PROBABLY SHUD 2.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of Difficult People

It never stops astounding me that extremely difficult people make it into old age. It’s just unfair that difficult people, like a fine wine of awfulness become more and more annoying and difficult as time passes. They never seem to learn their lesson. I’d venture to say some difficult people have found a loophole in civilized society where they thrive on weak criticisms and never being effectively contradicted because most people don’t want to “encourage” them.

Besides all the other logic-based reasons to doubt the existence of God, the fact that serial killers tend to prey on the completely undeserving people in society (you know, children, prostitutes) should be more than enough to make atheists out of people. If the Devil is real then why doesn’t he kill the difficult people, thus making all of us complicit in his evil ways being that we secretly hoped that guy at the supermarket screaming it up over mispriced sugar beets would turn up in Fresh Kills, along with his empty can. It’s the whole enjoyable irony of “Dexter,” for Christ's sake.

I’m done with it. The whole world has been bending over letting difficult people take up our time complaining about things that can’t be changed or forcing people to go out of their way to accommodate their horrible eccentricities. Why do we treat these people like kings? Why do we fear them? If everyone came to together and made it a point to stop serving, stop listening to, stop aiding these unhappy rejects then they would be forced to leave, come back tomorrow with a better attitude, or stay alone in their homes, without anything.

Humans are social, just like monkeys, meerkats, and wolves. If a meerkat went around bitching about the heat, the sand, the quality of the local giant centipede, the other meerkats would bite its face off.

Why then do we humans let difficult people hold up our lines, send back their perfect food, and pick fights with everyone they encounter?

It’s time for people to stand up for their rights of simplicity. The right to navigate life with ease and sensibility. To be polite at the check out, and be patient in face of unforeseen obstacles.

Why am I so incensed? Well, the other night a man came into my bar. He had emotionally hijacked some weepy woman into drinking with him, and when she left to try and jump out the bathroom window, he told everyone he was going to get laid. Yeah. Just horrible. Then he ordered coffee and a gin and tonic.

When his credit card was declined, he tried to skip out on his check. When I caught him, he asked me for a to-go cup, so that he could take his drink out with him on the street (which is totally illegal). I told him no, so he asked for a to-go-cup for his coffee. Sigh. I said no. So he throws a fit, pours the coffee all over the table, screams at me that he will “GET A LAWYER”, tips me nada, then proceeds to tell everyone in ear shot that the bar is run by “STUPID BITCHES!”

Thus:

1. If there is a Devil, he doesn’t really want to turn me evil. He just wants me to wish I was evil enough to punch that guy in the face.
2. Next time something like that happens, I’m standing up for myself. I’m going to tell the guy to his face that he is a glut of embarrassment and if he ever comes into my workplace again I will call the cops. If this happens to you, do the same.
3. If I encounter someone at the bank, or in the supermarket, I will make a calm remark like: “Other people are waiting sir, could you please respect our time?” Yes, it will probably go nowhere, and do nothing to stop the difficult person from being difficult again, BUT, at least I won’t be sitting by, letting that guy think I agree with his actions with my silence. You should do the same. Everyone should.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

International Rule No. 12: The St8 of Things

Session Start (AIM - 2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO:EyeHATEmyPArEntZ): Sat Apr 01 5:18:22 2008

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OMG!!! LOL U WILL NEVR BLIEVE WUT DEVIN SED ON MY MYSPACE!! LOLOLOL!!! :P

*** Auto-response from EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: I h8 my parents Bcause day luv me.

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: OMG!!! did he respond?!! Wut !!>!>!>!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: im really sorry about wut happened last nite. I know eric can B such a azz especially when hes showin off 4 u. he always tryz so hard 2 empress U Bcause ehe thinks ur a hottie. Everyoen knowz ur a hottie just look at da comments on ur pics. Sup dis weekend? -D

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: OMG OMG!!!! LOLOLOL!!!!!

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: HE

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ:DID

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ:NOT

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ:SAY

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ:dat!!!! LOL!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: He did! Check my myspace!!! www.myspace.com/RU-486

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: OMG! Did U respond?

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: NOOOOOOOO!

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: Duz he know U like him?!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: LOL NOooooOOOO if U tell him ill kill u

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: JK JK JK!! I <3>

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: AWwwWWwWw ;-) I <3>

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: u should tell him.

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: Waht shud I say?

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: tell him U think hes a hottye!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OMG RU crazeeEEEE!??!@!??

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: not only day, he shud B da 1 2 tell em first!!!

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: He did!!! It ses it rite dare! Hes reachin out 2 u

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OMG OMG OMG HE JUS CAME ONLINE!!!!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OMG!!!! Wut do i do!!???? :O>!!

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: um um um say hi1!!!1!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OK brb!

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: k



2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: hi

BakStreeetBalLah: yo

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: dat was a really sweet comment U left on my myspace

BakStreeetBalLah: sall good

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: wut r u up 2?

BakStreeetBalLah: jus chillin



2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OMG HES SO CUTE!!! LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: he IMZ like he talks!

*** Auto-response from EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: I h8 my parents Bcause day luv me.

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: Sorreeeee!!! LOLOLOL

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: skay

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: wut shud I say!?

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: tell him U watched him play ball yesterday

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: NOOOOOOOOOoooOO! he doesnt know!

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: just say hi again

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: k brb



2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: hi

*** Auto-response from BakStreeetBalLah: Livin’ da life of da only ballah!!

BakStreeetBalLah: sorry girl I wuz on my myspace putting up a new vid

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OMG I luv ur page i hav 2 c it!

BakStreeetBalLah: aight its up now www.myspace.com/realthugfromcarnarsie

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: awwWWWWww r kelly is so sweet

BakStreeetBalLah: I feel like I can relate U know wha im sayin?

BakStreeetBalLah: A religious luv for U baby

Every night I pray
Dat heaven will send U back 2 me
Baby U're all I ever needed
Religious luv for ya baby
Every night I pray
Dat someday I'll have U for my wife
Baby U are my life, please Blieve me

BakStreeetBalLah: he has da phattest lyricz n he remind me of how I feel bout u

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: awwwwwww ur so sweet ;o)

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: and like deep

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: and ur so smart!!

BakStreeetBalLah: thanx its jus my <3>

BakStreeetBalLah: swhy I gotz 2 work ahrd on my game cuz u know school is some bullshit I
aint gotz no more 2 lern cuz I already know dat shit and im gonna B a ballah

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OMG I know ur so good! LOLOL

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: Caitlin and I were watchin u yesterday



EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: wuz happenin!:?!>!!>!>!>??!?

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OMG he jsu wrote r kelly lyrics dat were sooooo OOO sweet and he
sed das how he felz botu me

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: OMG OMG OM GOMG LOLOL!OL!O!LOLOLOL R U KIDDN!!?!?!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: NOOO! LOL<3>>!!! Ur so luckeeee!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: BakStreeetBalLah: see I liked U since 8 th grade know wha im sayin?

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: OMG OMG SEeeEE I 2ld u!!!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: Wha shud I sayyy!?!!?!

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: Tell him U wana have his babyyy!!!

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: LOLOLOLOLOL

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: JKJKJK!!!!

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: LOLOL!O!LOLOL

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OMG!!!!!! LOLOOLOLOLOLOL UR CARAZY!!!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: BRB

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: LOL K



BakStreeetBalLah: I jus left a comment on ur myspace

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OMG really!>?!? I luv ur comments! One sec….

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: AWWWwW WwwwWWW ur SOOO sweet OMG



2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: HE just LEFT A comment on my myspace!!

*** Auto-response from EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: I h8 my parents Bcause day luv me.

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: he put up da r kelly vid for da dsong he pasted me and he wrote

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: "yo dere aint no girl like u u know wha im sayin? U wanna go out wit me?"

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: OMG hes amazing!!!! LOL wut r u gonna say?!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: YES YES!!!! LOLOLOLOL <3>??!?!?

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: I 2ld him yes!!!

BakStreeetBalLah: oh snap das phat so U ma girl now

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: AWWWWW!?! HE’s SOSOOOO CEEYUTE!!!!!! And SMARRT!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: Yah!!!! I KNO!!!!

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: oh no I gotz 2 go my mom jus brought dinner 2 my Bdroom

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: shes such a bitch das why i h8 her shes always tryin 2o hard

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: I know my mom does da same thign

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: NEway TTYL!>!>!!! Ill let u know how it goes 2night!!!

EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: k TTYL CALL ME !!!>!>!>! I <3>

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: I <3>

*** Auto-response from EyeHATEmyPArEntZ: My stupid mom is making me eat. That bitch.



2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: hi

BakStreeetBalLah: yo so sup tnoght?!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: iono

BakStreeetBalLah: we still hangin?

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: yah! Wut time?

BakStreeetBalLah: 8 ill pick u up

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: R U SURE?!!?!?

BakStreeetBalLah: course u my girl!

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: OKAY!!! :) !!!

BakStreeetBalLah: C U peas out girl

2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO: Byeeeeeeee!!!!

*** Auto-response from BakStreeetBalLah: I gos me a girl WOOT WOOT!

*** 2PluZ2oEqUalZmeNyoO signed off: Sat Apr 01 7:04:22 2008

Thus:

1. My, my, how far we've come.
   
2. If you are that retarded, close the browser window right now. Leave.
3. I admit that some of the best conversations I've ever had were over the IM lines. I felt unfettered, more creative and in control of my language. I felt I could be more than I really was, especially without the embarrassment of simply being me (God, I h8 myself). However, I never strayed from the basic tenets of English, and nor should you.
4. The above was a work of fiction by me. Though it happened in my mind, I assure you it happens all the time.
5. Pick up the phone. (But don't leave a voicemail!)
   

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of Insomnia

Warm milk, Tylenol PM, Jack Daniels, pot, Benardyl, breathing exercises, eliminating caffeine, exercising in the morning, sleeping pills represented by disturbingly ghost-like green butterflies that haunt you in Lunesta commercials, etc.

Been there, and gadzooks am I done with that.

The truth is, for many it’s just not gonna happen. I have battled my stints of raging insomnia most of my life. As Gilbert will attest, insomnia isn’t just for the abnormally wired, it can come on for multiple reasons, and in fact, the myriad of reasons for LIFE, is what keeps me buzzing sleepless into the tomorrow that is frustratingly today.

I do not presume to know the reason why some people have insomnia. I read that it could possibly do with a haywire fight or flight instinct, and or a forgotten trauma in others. That’s all good and fine for those who sit confused and weepy over why they can’t sleep.

It’s all about what it’s all about for me (if that makes any sense). Night falls. Twilight and my city is a marathon of clicking heels and shouts of “Taxi!”. There is no porch and crickets. No pink rimmed mountains or whispering of stars, saying "Sleepytime...". When it's night in Manhattan, I wake up.

Gone are the days when I tried to clamp open my lids in wait for the tooth fairy, new years, Santa, SNL. Now I watch reruns of reruns. I play chess on my computer, do 3AM laundry, and fight the urge to make four course meals in a party dress.

My grandmother, who blessed my father with the gift of instant snores, told me to tell each part of my body to sleep in a song. Toes go to sleep (make up your own tune), feet go to sleep, shins go to sleep, and so on. Besides wanting to gnash my teeth like Tic Tacs (she went through her whole anatomy), I wanted to scream, “It’s not that simple!” I can’t meditate the setting sun over my belly button, recite a haiku while brushing my teeth and just hit the hay. My THOUGHTS won’t allow it.

I think too much. I think long and hard about practically anything, and when I lay inert in a comfortable place my thoughts replace my daily grind and I go bonkers.

...Like just then, when I typed the word Bonkers…I had these thoughts:

1. Why does that word mean crazy? Could it be because when you hit/bonk your head you damage your brain?
2. Was there some medieval comedy troop called the Bonkers?
3. Bonkers rhymes with Yonkers. I’ve been to Yonkers. It was really dull.
4. The train station was oddly pretty though, I remember it was fall and the…

Anyway.

How to cure “thinking too much”? I won’t do yoga or meditation because the last time I tried both I got simultaneously dizzy and enraged with boredom, so mad in fact that I had to punch something.

Thus:

1. Here’s what works for me. I don’t sleep, I go about my life and eventually I do fall over.
2. I pretend to sleep, by laying still while I read, or I listen to This American Life. That way at least my body is resting.
3. I pack my day full of thinking activities, and sometimes, rarely, but sometimes I get sleepy.
4. Lastly--and I don’t recommend this to everyone--I eat a shitload of carbs, right before bedtime, force myself to watch three hours of CNN, and then try. It works about 40% of the time, only I then have to slither off the couch to my bed before the window to the land of nod closes and I wake up again.
5. In other words, it’s a curse, but it’s manageable. Being tired is not the worst thing in the world. If you have the same “thinking too much” insomnia, it might just be your cross to bear for being so damn clever.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of $700,000,000,000 Bailout Extortion (Guest Contribution!)

Note: This post originally appeared in another article and has been modified for You, The International Rules reader.

Update: the bill has passed, but you can still join the fight!

It goes without saying. When you advertise and market your business, product, or service make sure it has value and good quality.

If not, your customer will leave you and tell everyone they know not to do business with you.

If you're an American…

This $700,000,000 bailout is inferior quality and has no value to You.

You will pay for it. In fact, You will be forced to pay for it. They will tie your hands and make you sign Your check over to them.

Fortunately, you still have the power to fight back and tell the politicians to strike it down. Vote NO.

Remember, they work for you. You pay their wages. They're your employee. Don't let the greedy lobbies rub your face in the mud and pull your pants down.

Tell your local politician to do their job and strike this down: Vote NO.

It's no good to You. You shouldn't have to pay for it.

• Did you know that the FED already threw $600,000,000,000 ($600 Billion) into the market a few days ago?
• Did you know Bush already approved $20,000,000,000 ($20 Billion) for the auto industry?
• Did you know that this $700-Billion bailout can be used to buy junk mortgages AND other junk assets? Other junk assets? How did they slip that in? And what are they? No one says because it's a "Get of Jail Free" card that you're paying for.
• Did you know that they pulled number $700,000,000,000 out of thin air? They don't know how much is really needed. If they don't know, you shouldn't write a blank check. And they must slow down and think this through. Not run around crying wolf and that the sky is falling, right?
• Did you know, through their negotiations, trying to get this inferior and low quality bailout passed in congress, it's now over $800-Billion! That's right. Since it didn't pass the first time incentives have been added to get more politicians to bend over and vote yes. They've been playing "…if I give you this, you give me that…" with Your money. All those incentives cost You another $100-Billion plus!
• Do you realize that their whole sales pitch ($700-Billion bailout) is "We take taxpayer money (Yours) to buy junk mortgages. Then IF we're lucky we can sell it at a profit to someone else." That's what this Bailout is about.
• BUT, Do you understand that these are junk mortgages? What makes them junk? The people who took out the mortgages, long ago, are no longer paying for them. Think about that…

These mortgages are worthless! They're null and void. They're not being paid on. The houses on the mortgages are upside down. And the people who took out the mortgage have been foreclosed on a long time ago. They're empty, vacated, REO!

The contract (mortgage) has terminated. What does that mean? When you take out a mortgage it's a contract: "You borrow money and promise to pay it back and the collateral is the house. If you don't pay on the mortgage the bank takes back the house." That's the contract (mortgage) and there are only two possible endings:

1. You pay off the mortgage, or
2. The lender forecloses and takes back the house.

These junk mortgages have ended in the b) scenario. No one is paying on them. The house belongs to the lender. The mortgage (contract) is worthless paper. It's nothing! It has completed it's cycle. It's only good for recycling.

• Why the hell do you want to buy it? Why would you pay your hard earned money for scrap paper? Who the heck does the government think they're going to sell to? Who's dumb enough to buy it? They just want your money to pay the idiots who made this mess.

Think about it. If these mortgages were being paid on, they would have real value, and we wouldn't need a bailout plan, right. The companies and governments with cash would have bought them a long time ago because if the mortgages are paid on there is value.

• But these are the junk mortgages. The borrowers defaulted on them. No one is paying for these mortgages. They are worthless! Banks, companies, and foreign governments don't want them now and they're not going to want them just because you were forced to pay for it.

Do you really think they'll buy empty contracts because they feel sorry for you? Hell no!

• If I lost you, think of it like this. A good mortgage that's being paid on is like a delicious pastrami sandwich. These junk mortgages and "other" assets (that they want to force-feed you) is the dirty, oily, smelly sandwich wrapper at the bottom of a trash can.

Forget it! You're not a fool. Don't pay for the disgusting sandwich wrapper. You didn't create this mess but they want you to pay for it all. Hell No!

Thus:

1. Contact your congressperson and tell them to do their job and vote NO. They need to hear your voice and know how mad you are because if you don't tell them how you feel, they will listen to the lobbies. And the lobbies Do Not Care About You. The lobbies want Your $700 Billion to pay their Holiday bonus. Don't give it them. It's your money, you worked hard for it and earned it. Don't be a lay-down. Make them stick where the sun don't shine by telling your congressperson to vote - NO. And do it now. They're voting on it soon.
2. Look at this report and watch the news video. It quickly tells you why and how it's all wrong for You and actually extortion.
   
3. Plus you can be more active and vocal and join the thousands of Americans who do not want to be made a fool of anymore.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try. Robert Nomura is a Freelance Copywriter. And writes marketing and sales promotions for direct mail, advertisements, and the internet. Learn more about him here.

The International Rule of Being a Dominatrix

Warning: approaches the adult and unfathomable.

It was a sunny, pleasantly mild day. I walk with my head higher when there is a breeze, so maybe, just maybe I doomed myself.

He came out of nowhere, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I alone were able to see him, like some goblin, or leprechaun making a foray into the world of the substantial. Might I be interested in some very well paid work? Of course I was, I always am, since I secretly believe there is a vocation out there that involves no formal training and gobs of undeserved cash, it just disappears from Craigslist during the waxing moon.

I didn’t really want to stop, but something, probably the devil on my shoulder that makes me ask for directions from the only legitimate crackhead in any given neighborhood, made me pause. This devil leads me astray so much it’s a wonder I’m not a cob salad of lumps along the highway.

“There’s no sex. Totally safe, and you can make six-hundred or more a night.” At the time I was suffering through the endless drag of food service, taking home my crumpled bills and falling asleep with pens in my hair. $600 was about what I made on a soul-stealing weekender. He won, for now.

I came to find out that all it takes to become a dominatrix in this city of perversions, is a tiny badly done calling card, and one paid training session.

Let me just stop here and say that at that particular time in my life I was feeling rather salty. My job had cut and re-cut my sense of self so many times that I had developed that hardened waitress witch persona that makes anything seem possible, and old hat. Was whipping a middle-aged reformed Jew while telling him he’s “A DIRTY LITTLE SHMUCK” that much worse then picking up nickels from the floor because the same middle-aged mama’s boy didn’t like the consistency of his feta cheese?

This and more ran through my head as I walked into the florescent Radiohead album that is Midtown at three-in-the-morning.

It all made sense up until that point. I wanted money, money that facilitates all the good things in life. I wanted flexible hours, and in a small but very real way I wanted more power. To be the one stepping on others' faces and being thanked for it, really thanked for it had its appeal. That appeal evaporated the minute I met some of the girls.
I say girls because, if I were to call them Mistresses, as they are called in the backs of poorly-Photoshopped Latex mags, I would be giving them too much credit.

There was Onyx. Tall, thin, vampiress; she didn’t say hello, nor did she remove the long patent-leather arm bands that hid her tracks. I walked by her feeling slightly ill. She struck me as some wounded and sickly panther stuck in some cage, no longer sleek or impressive, just gaunt and insane.

Then there was China. I was introduced to her as she lay face down on a couch sleeping off a hangover, sporting just a g-string and corset. When she raised her face to me I was shocked to realize she looked prepubescent.

It didn’t take much more for me to realize that no, it was not in my stars to live this dark life. I would not be shitting on people’s faces, or riding them like ponies while they peed in diapers. It takes a particular kind of person to find peace with all that.

So I returned to my vanilla life, and I promise you, the next day, as the three soccer moms strollered away without even a thank you as I wiped away the remains of their baby food and shredded napkins just to find a few dimes left as compensation, I never felt more pure.

Thus:

1. How much money would you ask for your sense of purity? There is no number? Then you can’t be a Dominatrix.
2. Have a kinky streak that runs through all the Freudian stages of your development? You might have what it takes to electrocute someone’s balls. Might.
3. Don’t try and pretend you are too hard to be hurt. Just cuz you can’t see the damage, doesn’t mean you’re not being slowly buried alive.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of The Emergency Brake

This is the second time someone has pulled the emergency brake on the train since I've been here. The first time, the guy used it so he could get off a busy PATH train before the doors closed. He was actually in my car and got away scot-free before anyone noticed anything. This time, I have no idea whether it was a legitimate emergency or not.

Doesn't matter.

Thus:

1. In the event of an emergency, never pull the emergency brake. There isn't an emergency in existence that warrants use of this ridiculous contraption. Just let it be.
2. If you pull the emergency brake, you're not allowed to leave the car. People have to be able to look at you and contemplate your fate.
3. They should make the emergency brake more of a challenge to pull. I mean, you're never going to satisfy everyone the way The International Rules do. Think of Tiny, Tiny Tim, your littlest friend. How can he possibly reach the brake? With that, put the brake in an "in case of emergency break glass" case and combine it with a screeching tamper-evident alarm. In addition, make it so that all the doors of the offending car slam shut immediately, locking the culprit in the car with his audience.
4. The emergency brake should also be a switch enabling a video camera system so that later on the news all of New York can see the hot action. It could be our city's version of the Los Angeles police chase, which, incidentally, has its own channel now!
5. The emergency brake should also release laughing gas into all of the other cars on the train so at the very least people think it's funny that they have to wait for an hour while the MTA gets its shit together.
6. I heard there was an incident number so that people could give their employers some proof of the delay in the event of an adverse situation. Where is this mysterious phone number? The MTA should make it more obvious to people. What about the conductor giving it to the occupants of the train over the loudspeaker? And no, Deaf, Deaf Daniel will not be able to hear it. He better hope he's on the 4, 5 or 6 so he can read it on the LED display.

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.

The International Rule of Feeling Fat

YOU -- kind, erudite, level-headed you -- think that you’re pretty settled after a teen youth fraught with painful doubt about your physical appearance. Yet, like bird shit you’re walking past a store front window and you catch a glimpse of your ass/thigh/tummy, and you are suddenly sure that it must have been some hysterical blindness that kept you from realizing until that very moment that you are in fact a distasteful pig-person unfit to eat in public ever again.

I know. I mean it, I know.

Truth is that no matter what you do, no matter how many candles we light or how many people we commercially fish for complements we still suffer with mercurial body images.

If you’re raised in America and don’t have an ego problem, feeling fat once and while should be expected.

Friends Seminary was a school in lower Manhattan, right by Stuyvesant park. Known to harbor the children of liberal movie stars and even more liberal professional artists, it was mostly Jews and rich kids, which might sound redundant if you didn’t go there.

In a word… white. Not completely white, but primarily white. I am not white. So like Humbert Humbert, I lived the first exploratory years of life obsessing over this seductively alien thing which is little white girl beauty. The encyclopedic knowledge I have of white girl charms would put a pageant mother to shame.

Emma was my first real “BFF”. A rising star gymnast with blond hair and perfectly round amber colored freckles, I was in awe of her lithe, almost starved coltishness. The painful bulge of bones that were her knees and elbows caused my first ulcer.

She was thin, and perky, and sunshine rays laced in gold and pearl. It took her exploding some overly-sloppy boobs and a near death spiral into drugs and seedy sex to finally knock her off the pedestal I placed her on.

Now, looking back I realize no wonder I refuse to lay sideways while being spooned by a boyfriend for long periods of time, lest he cup my melting marshmallow man of a stomach. Obviously media, porn and vodka-Red Bulls all have something to do with our hypersensitive image-enslaved culture, but so does Emma, and biology.

When will it end? Never. This silent war is the most consistent test of my own character I can think of. Every day I walk outside and eat a doughnut and lie to myself that I don’t care if it will surface like some incriminating headless corpse on my upper arms, is one day of lies stronger.

Thus:

1. Feeling fat will never end, but your self-ruining punishments might.
   
2. Some wars are never meant to be won, just lived through; so much like the true American you know you are inside, enjoy that fried rice in the mall, it’s helping our economy isn’t it?

It's really easy and if we all do it, our lives will be | | <~~ that much better. Come on, give it a try.