The BMW Fastfood Delivery -- Photo of the Week 31 Aug 2009

Admittedly, I didn't take this picture, but it's basically what I saw after lunch this past Friday. A man for a buffalo wings grill making deliveries in a swank BMW. Many of you know my affinity for FAIL Blog, so I declare this to be Living Within Your Means FAIL.

Also, let's throw in a Road Civility FAIL for good measure, as the dude flipped me the finger.


Happy Monday. Enjoy the week!

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The Addiction and Teacher That is Speed Scrabble

Thanks to a scarring game of Risk ("Ukraine is not weak!!") back in 2000 I tend to avoid board games; the exception, of course, being the occasional game of Mah-Jongg. Who doesn't want to place vital organs as collateral for a $10,000 bet every once in a while, am I right?? Anyway, regardless of my professed dislike for board games, I have recently become addicted to Speed Scrabble.

What's Speed Scrabble, you ask?

Speed Scrabble (SS) is to nerdy board-gamers what cocaine was to 80s celebrities: It is fast-paced, exhilarating, addictive, and the source of numerous unnatural nosebleeds. In the case of SS, the reason is either because the game got so intense participants came to fisticuffs, or the breakneck pace and overexertion from the game melted their brains. (***If you're bored enough to read the rules, I will put those at the bottom***)

Let's just leave the Speed Scrabble-Cocaine analogy there.

One friend, whom I will anonymize, put it this way:

This is utterly ridiculous to admit, but I dreamed about Speed Scrabble last night. I actually awoke to myself arranging words beginning with "q". Kinda weird.

Lessons Learned

SS has even taught me some valuable life lessons. The two that come most readily to mind are "pride cometh before the fall" and "those who forget history are doomed to repeat it."

Let me share a story that illustrates both. In the first game of what would become a 3-hour SS marathon, I came storming out of the blocks -- jumping out to a quick lead and catching my opponents at unawares. I foolishly declared:

"I guess you could call that my Pearl Harbor."

I guess it seemed like an apt analogy at the time, what with the quick strike and my Japanese heritage and all. For all of you not familiar with the Pacific Theater of WW2, however, here's the major problem with my poorly thought-out analogy: Japan LOST WW2! It was decimated!! Japan may have "won" Pearl Harbor, but even Admiral Yamamoto said afterward: "I fear all we have done is awakened a sleeping tiger." And he wasn't talking those pansy circus tigers that jump through hoops. He was talking the mean ones that want to tear your limbs off and eat you (avid PETA supporters being no exception). Pearl Harbor was really just the beginning of the end for Japan.

And so it was with me; my initial victory accomplished very little except to "awaken the tiger" (read: gave Mitch a reason to shut my gloating mouth up and decisively trounce me and everyone else under her feet). It became a self-fulfilling prophecy. I doomed myself to suffer the same fate as the Empire did in WW2 because I declared victory too soon.

So, chalk one History Comparison FAIL for me. Sigh.


***Speed Scrabble Explained***
You lay all of the scrabble tiles facedown in the middle of the table, everyone takes seven, then tries to build their own set of words as quickly as possible, using all tiles. Once they have used the seven tiles in their own hand, they say "go" and everyone draws two from the pile and so on until all the tiles are used up. Then you count up points based on the points on each tile, subtracting points for the tiles left over.

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Weekly Selects #3

Digital Correspondence continues. Seems like I'll continue getting enough material to continue doing this semi-consistently. I probably think my friends' stories are funnier than they actually are -- but whatever. As always, I have made no editorial intervention.

--Via picture TXT, White Josh sent this to me:

I am emailing you the most awesome japa-perm ever:

He's some dude Josh used to see at his work cafeteria. I would like to think the resemblance is negligible, but my guess is that Josh -- either subconsciously or not -- sent this to me because he thought there was some slight similarities. I suppose I shouldn't be insulted that I get sent pictures like this. I deserve it.

--Via TXT, from DJA and AM, respectively. Some background to follow the quotes:

Lets make it aaalll for love and... damn you jd i cant get it out of my head!

Guess which song was in my head when i woke up this morning? rod stewart wont leave me alone.

Background: The 1993 Three Musketeers (a movie that has NOT aged well; see: Keith Richards. Holy hell. The man should be a spokesman for the ill-effects of alcohol poisoning) had the hit song "All For Love" sung by Rod Stewart, Bryan Adams, and Sting. On the extreme off-chance that you have the DVD, there is an absolute gem in the "Extra Features" section -- the "All For Love" music video. There are no words to describe the unintentional comedy here. (highlights if you don't have time for the whole thing: 0:42, 1:00, 1:50, 2:03, 2:45, 2:59, 3:11)



All three singers are great, but Rod Stewart is the undisputed all-star of the video. In the works, of course, is a reenactment for a talent show. By outright consensus, DJA will be playing Rod Stewart. I threw together some "concept artwork" for you:

You can thank me later.

--Via Facebook wall post from Chunk:

You'll be disappointed to find out that I moved out of the lomilomi house after being there less than 24 hours.

Lomilomi is Hawaiian for massage. In a desperate search for grad school housing in Hawaii, Chunk turned to Craigslist. He found a single, 40-year old male masseuse with a glass eye, who added in an email that "free massages are a perk for roommates." Whether the "offer" was serious or not is still up in the air, but I joked with Chunk that he would be out of there sooner than he would think. I had no idea I would be so accurate in my prescience.

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PotW Addition, Survey Results

Just some supplemental videos for the last two Photos of the Week.

C Dees found this clip from The Simpsons to enhance yesterday's PotW:



And, you guys voted on Bourne's best improvised weapon. The ball-point pen came in first:



Here were second (rolled up magazine) and third (hardbound book):

The Bourne Ultimatum - Bourne And Desh Fight

I personally chose the hardbound book-- C'mon! He beats the guy with a textbook. Well, regardless, I'm pretty sure Bourne could kill or seriously maim me with nothing but a coaster or a q-tip.

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Crotch Shot Humor -- Photo of the Week 24 Aug 2009

Call it juvenile, but some things never lose their humor:

Photo sent by Josh M.

I think Shaolin monks are known for their ability to tolerate enormous amounts of pain. Taking a Karate Kid-esque Flying Crane kick to the equipment would most definitely fall into that category. And based on the photo backdrop, I can only deduce that this is taking place in some Asian house of legislation, where instead of pounding a gavel or ringing a bell to begin new parliamentary sessions, the Speaker of the House commits an atrocity against a buddhist monk. Look at all the pent-up frustration in that lawmaker's face! There must be a testy piece of health care legislation on the debate docket.

My sister Jen asked me once why, as males, we laugh uproariously when a fellow man is struck in the man-area. Dodgeballs, fists, knees, wrenches... Any object hitting a man in the crotch with violent force -- for whatever inane reason -- is hilarious to us. Except, of course, if we're on the receiving end. In those cases, all we can muster is a weak yelp and collapse in nauseating pain. This leads me to conclude that we men possess none of the following: 1) Maturity; 2) empathy; 3) a belief in karmic retribution.

While I'm at it, some things that will never lose their humor, just off the top of my head:

Watching other men try to show off -- and fail : I was in the gym at work this past week and there was a man in a t-shirt, nicely-pressed slacks, and heavy-looking dress shoes running on the treadmill. It looked uncomfortable. He was loudly commenting to the man on the adjacent treadmill "Yeah, I haven't worked out in like 8 months!" and then proceeded to crank the treadmill pace up to 12.5 mph. Genius! As I listened/watched the man plod along in his dress shoes -- he sounded like a Clydesdale whose hooves had been soaked in cement, were left to dry, and now was galloping full force on them -- I just knew something was going to happen. And something did. He lost his footing and fell, luckily catching himself before flying off the treadmill. Thank goodness he was not injured -- both for himself, and the fact that if he had been, I would be an a-hole for relaying this incident and laughing every time I think about it.

People that are heavily involved in Medieval reenactments: No explanation needed, but in case you needed a reminder, click away.

Happy Monday, all. Men: be protective of your manhood this week. Also, depending on how my schedule works out, it could be a good writing week. Stay tuned.

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