Call it predictable

Oh, CNN, you stupid slut.

I don't know why I'm surprised when CNN writes a dumb headline, but this one particularly got me, like I'm supposed to read the Yankee fan part and suddenly say, "Oh, that explains it." Now, if he was a Detroit Tiger fan, maybe then I'd buy it.

CNN's unintentionally hilarious headline generator (CNNUHHG) is a very discerning and secretive machine, that only produces the very stupidest news stories with the most sensationalist language for final approval. Moderately Effed's inside sources did provide these finalists for one of tomorrow's headlines:


- FBI: VA Tech shooter had Subway sandwich punch card
- Casual rugby fan Muqtada Al Sadr remains at large
- BTK Killer: "Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk!"
- Ahmadinejad can't believe Rachel was kicked of Real World/Road Rules Challenge: The Inferno III

Vulgar, the lie

The world of academia is full of hypocrisy, like liberal colleges preaching free speech and then flipping out when conservative speakers come to campus and girls wearing f me heels and tank tops and then flipping out when men expect sex at the end of the night. But the absolute height of hypocrisy was just exemplified by this woman. Now I don't want to take the time to reopen the article to find our her name, so we'll just refer to her as Exagerrator P. Shegotcaught.

Ms. Shegotcaught was the Dean of Admissions at MIT, which other than being the home of probably the weirdest bunch of people you will ever meet in your entire life, is also a pretty good technical college. So, Exagerrator spent some time as Dean of Admissions arguing against inflating of students' resumes and the overall intense focus on the application process. Turns out, she made up three of her own degrees.

This happens a lot. I, for example, list on my resume a Doctorate of Sexology from the University of Wisconsin, and every woman that I have ever slept with (all 1 of you) can attest to that being a little white lie. Exagerrator, who started at MIT as an administrative assistant, lied her way all the way to Dean of Admissions by listing degrees from technical schools she never attended. Kind of like President Bush having that Harvard MBA. As a side note, I wonder if the professors at Harvard Business School conveniently omit Bush as an alumnus when they're speaking to potential students.

I love when things like this happen. I love when people get caught lying on their resumes, when CEO's get caught lying to the board, when politicians get caught stealing from the taxpayers and accepting bribes, when people get their comeuppance. This woman spent a big part of her career judging peoples' lives and their worth, voting people up and down based upon how much community service they did in High School and how many AP tests they took. She's the one that sent out those letters to thousands of students who didn't make the cut at MIT, making them wonder if they had just taken that extra class or volunteered that extra summer at Church, maybe they would have gotten in. When does Exagerrator P. Shegotcaught get hired by the President?

PS: To compensate for the extra bitter post today, I'll pile on the funny tomorrow

Everybody knows this is nowhere

Well, I've actually had complaints that I haven't been writing nearly enough. No, I'm not talking about imagined throngs of fans eagerly checking my blog on a daily basis, wondering why I haven't posted my latest screed on pop culture, the media, or my most recent love letter to this girl. No, I haven't convinced myself that the Swedish bikini and fellatio team has been disappointed with my production of late, or that anyone's days have really been affected by my laziness. But a friend did tell me this weekend that I haven't been writing enough lately, a concept that a year ago I couldn't even have fathomed.

Over the first 6 months of the blog, I wrote a lot of posts. Too many posts, actually. Some were very bad. I'm sorry, actually. My bad. At any rate, as time went on and I got busier, I found myself spending more time writing about how I never wrote anymore than time writing more. Which, if it wasn't self flagellating and self pitying, would be sort of ironic.

The problem is a familiar one for me -- motivation. Do I want to succeed in writing? Yes. Do I want to be rich? Yes. Do I want to stop worrying about money and cease eating English muffins and rasberry jelly for breakfast? Well, no, because english muffins with rasberry jelly are delicious. Where was I?

I have found myself lost, comedically. My confidence in my jokes, both written and delivered, has waned recently. My stepbrother (who was 12 at the time) told me over the winter, rather bluntly, that I have "become much happier since I got a job and a girlfriend", which is definitely true. I have also become less funny, because my humor has always been a pure function of my dissatisfaction and anger. Sometimes at authority, sometimes at idiocy and lunacy, sometimes at the circumstances in which I found myself, and sometimes at myself. It was a thin line between self-loathing and self awareness which I perfected over the years and finally put to paper.

The point is, I'm back. I'm desperate for a reinvigorated sense of creativity, a new found desire to make fun of things. If it doesn't come naturally, I'm going to force it. Some would say that's a bit melodramatic and pompous, I say that I am about to undertake the greatest creative enterprise in the history of humanity since Mad Libs.

He's facing his fear! He's facing his fear!

This is going to be great!

Sometimes I feel, like I don't have a partner

It seems that the wonderful state of Florida, home to such luminaries as OJ Simpson, Katherine Harris, and Ted Bundy, is having some problems with sex offenders. No, not the Tampa Bay Buccaneers...

Convicted sex offenders (who have of course served their time and are no longer a risk of abusing kids ever again) are being released from jail at the end of their terms, and since many ex cons end up homeless, this group is no different. Except because they are sex offenders, they have to be in a place of residence from 10:00 AM to 6:00 PM. Homeless+legal requirements to occupy a residence+overpopulation+Republican governors=sex offenders living under bridges. Every day a probation officer visit these homeless communities, making sure they haven't flown the coop and actually found a place to live that has a roof and walls.

And, in perhaps the most terrible twist of all, underneath the bridge was not the Chester Molesters' first choice:

"...For several of the offenders, the causeway is their second experience at homelessness. Some of them lived for months in a lot near downtown Miami until officials learned that the lot bordered a center for sexually abused children..."

Like putting a fat camp in a vacant lot next to a Chinese buffet.