Review: Salad Tongs

Salad Tongs, you ridiculous bastard. Let's get one thing straight: you only slightly make it easier to grab salad. Maybe about two easier on a 1-10 scale that exists to judge the helpfulness of appliances. I mean I get it. We all get it. Squeezing. Super easy and fun to do. Tongs are great for picking most food up, but why is Salad the most popular type of Tong. Again, no one is dismissing tongs in general. Just specifically Salad ones. In fact, regular tongs do a much better job of getting salad than these pretty boy Salad Tongs.

They come in pretty vain designs to. Clear plastic? What is that supposed to make me feel better? Wooden? That's just admitting that the food you're tonging is for pussies. In terms of your variety- you suck. There's the ones that are just regular tongs and shouldn't have the word salad anywhere near them and you have the ones are 2 pieces that connect to make a shitty scissor of spoon and fork. That's just a stupid idea for a utensil that they just called a salad tong because they couldn't think of any other name that is appropriately as lame. Being called a salad tong is insulting, and you take it on the chin up your ass. Your inner-ass chin, salad tong.

It's not that I hate you (it=this post, I do hate outside of this post), this is just the most I ever thought of you, and this was the result. You can't change who you are, you're an object. That's why boobs make me respect women less and dicks make me laugh- objects. Now go, get on out of here, find someone who'll love you for whatever you are. Go on, Salad Tongs, git!

Review: Father Son Relationship

Son asks Dad if a sharpie marker is permanent on skin.

Dad asks son why he needs to know that and if son has colored his own skin.

Son says he has not yet but has heard that black cocks are bigger.

Dad laughs.

Dad continues laughing.

Dad stops laughing but is still thinking about it in his mind.

Dad laughs nervously.

Son stares at dad. Son is about to repeat question. Dad interrupts.

Dad tells son not to color his dick.

Son pulls sharpie marker out of his pocket, gives it to dad.

Son sulks and goes to turn away. Dad looks on fondly.

"Son," Dad says, "I love your dick just the way it is."

Son turns and runs into dad's open arms. As they embrace son tells dad how son loves his dad's penis too.

Dad let's go of hug. Son and Dad don't speak for 20 years. Not until Mom's funeral. Son takes dad aside. Son takes sharpie marker out of pocket. Dad smiles, takes out sharpie marker from his pocket. Dad and Son simultaneously whip out their dicks to show that they are both colored in black.

"Marker is hard to get off of skin," says son. Dad cries. Funeral audience cries. Life is restored.

Review: NY Comic Con 2010

I don't have any interesting pictures. Or even any interesting insight. Or even any interesting stories. Just perspective.

As this was my first Comic Con, I processed a lot of information one processes when they experience a first of something. Do I like this? Is this fun? What's that smell? Are these the people I want to associate with?

And perspective- I am not that nerdy. Nerdy in the unsocial sense. Nerdy in the fantasy sense. I mean I love the things I love to an annoying degree, but I'd like to think I'm articulate about it and I like to think that comes from being comfortable with my level of it. Comic Con- as you can assume- is the people who aren't generally comfortable with themselves in a place where they can let loose and be comfortable with themselves. That sounds good and all, but it really isn't. I'm not being cynical (no baby no). I'm just saying I didn't feel like I wanted to fit in. I mean, I don't read comic books.

Why did I go to Comic Con then? Delocated Panel. Your Highness Panel. And morbid curiosity. There was also a Butters from South Park panel, which was nothing more than a glorified commercial for a Butters DVD. But whatever, I went to it. The 2 mentioned panels were great and I got to ask a question and feel proud about it. Did you know most comic con questions are like this: What are you doing with the props/Can I have one? Can you give us spoilers on the other project you are working on? Will there be a sequel to the other project you did? Can you say hi to my girlfriend? Let me mention something obscure you did- and then can you say how that relates to nothing you're talking about?

So yeah- re-reading this, I'm pretty cynical. It comes from a good place though. A comic con. See- I just said Comic Con was a good place. Just wish I was stoned more.

Sorry for not saying anything ultimately interesting- I just learned more about myself more than anything at comic con- TALK ABOUT SELFISH. Talk about Shell Fish: they also stink.

Review: Being too dry

Sammy Lynn and Caranthope, her Native American Guide who can communicate with nature, are walking down the forest by the beach. Suddenly- the earth shifts and they are sucked down beneath the ground. They awake and they are completely dry.

"Caranth! I can't feel my eyes" shouted Sammy Lynn. Caranthope was slow to get up as he simultaneously assessed the situation. He mouth stuck together as he tried to talk.

"It's dry... too dry," the guide said, "Your eyes are mostly water and they are drying out. Quick- squint!"

"Carantho! My skin it feels less like it usually does!" Sammy Lynn was rubbing her arms up and down.

"Like I said dry, ok? Try, I dunno, taking off our clothes." Caranthope and Sammy Lynn both began undressing.

"CARANTHOPE!" a stream of confusion came from Sammy Lynn. "You're boner! Why would you ask me disrobe if you knew you were to have that boner for me? It is much too dry for my vagina to moisten!"

The Native paused, his mouth agape with a traffic jam of the right thing to say. The dryness made his boner seem more rugged, like a tool a cowboy would use or a middle eastern woodwind. Just then his mouth felt like he had just plopped in a tablespoon of sand. Caranthope's mouth then began to slowly deteriorate into sand. The dust crawled up his face and down his spine, spreading to the rest of his body. Her native guide, the person who shared many an adventure with Sammy Lynn, the one who has been by her side ever since Sammy Lynn's father saved Caranthope by letting the lion eat his parents instead, the one who served without complaint even when Sammy Lynn requested abortion after abortion for the two's many love children... that man was now nothing but a pile of dark red dust in an underground cave to dry to comprehend.

Sammy Lynn was calm. She walked over to the dust pile. She put her hand in it. She spread it around. She organized it into 2 separate lines. With a tear in her eye- she snorted the remains. Her eyes tuned into a series of hypotnic spins and exclamation points as her whole body became a babble. The dust pile of former Native American guide took its effect as Sammy Lynn turned into a shape of a human rocket and sparks shot out of her feet- rising up out of the underground dry cave, above the tree tops, and into the afternoon sky. BOOM! A light of fireworks across the sky, "HAPPY COLUMBUS DAY" in shimmering red sparkles.

How To Be An Adult: Albert Brooks in 'Lost in America'

Part of being young is learning to be older, which is why this segment exists. We've covered how to attract women like an adult before, now- this post which is being read ending my sentence now.



How to be an adult? Be awesome at not taking shit. Albert Brook's David is a bit neurotic in this movie, then he this scene happens- and that neurosis turns into a stated fury. David knows he deserves a job, but upon hearing that he doesn't he gives reasons why he deserves that job, albeit punctuated with unprofessionalism. But the way David is unprofessional is justified. Sure its a big account, and yeah David is being a bit of a baby- but can I hear a little bit about dignity? David says it himself- he gave his youth to the company and he feels betrayed. David doesn't want to succumb to a company that has done wrong by him, and he rightfully gets defiant. Played calm it could've been different- but that's not the adult I don't think anyone wants to be. Not a go 'Roll with the punches, take the compliments when they come' type of guy- but the 'I know what I am worth, and I know who I am' type of guy. Plus, we want to be able to call people bald.

David goes off after being complimented. He's either wrong, or he can tell when he is being screwed by a company he committed 8 years to. Regardless- the adult thing to do is make a decision and stand by it. David stands by it and adds 2 'fuck you's for good measure. That's how to be an adult.

RECAP on how to be an adult (Lost in America):
-know your accomplishments
-know how to turn people's words back on them
-be of quick wit
-have dignity
-commit to your decision
-make sure to use 'fuck you' as the cherry on the sundae



SPOLIER:
I love this movie, but the ending is open to interpretation. He DOES go crawling back to the company- but he does so after seeing America. Seeing what else is out there and noticing he had a sweet gig. His wife also loses all their money in a casino which deftly places a burden on their circumstance. I guess the lesson of 'Lost in America' is that of 'fuck living- it's too crazy to make any sense out of'.