Archives for May 2005

Those of you who read Pye In The Face don’t need to be told about my search engine optimization fetish. So occasionally I mention a website here simply to have it indexed by the major search engines – because their spiders love me and visit often. So bear with me, kids. Plus, I’m writing to you from the roofdeck and I may be suffering hypothermia-induced dementia right now. You never really know with my frequent roofdeckery.

If you’ve ever been outside on your laptop, say on a roofdeck for instance, you may have had trouble seeing your lcd screen because of the sun glare. Well your worries are over! If you like to work on your notebook computer outside and are looking for a laptop screen sun shade, please visit the all new LaptopScreenShades.com!

And we were laughing our asses off the whole time…

“Comedian Dave Chappelle has checked himself into a mental health facility in South Africa and has remained there since late April, according to a source close to the situation. The same source denies rumors of drug abuse. Other sources have also told EW that the future of Chappelle’s Show — the hit Comedy Central series that was entering its third season — is more uncertain than the network has suggested.”

Get well, Dave. Here’s hoping Wayne Brady has to choke a bitch again, real soon.

There’s a new craze amongst teenagers in England which is apparently influenced by American Shows like Jackass, Viva La Bam, etc. “Happy Slapping” has become all the rage amongst British yutes, and it’s a lot more sinister than it sounds. Here’s what a male 16 year old “slapper” (I have to make the sex distinction to avoid confusion with another popular definition of that word) had to say in defense of his new found hobby:

“Even though it might be quite painful (for the victim) and you obviously feel quite sorry for them because they’re injured or hurt or whatever and they’ve done nothing to deserve it, it’s still funny because it’s like seeing the sketch on TV.” Wicked funny, Niles.

What these little bastards do is akin to what we call swarming here in North America. A group of kids run up on, surround and then slap the shit out of unsuspecting bystanders – while one or two others record the assault on their camera phones. If that weren’t bad enough, some of the lower-level bottomfeeding British cable channels then compile these beatings into hour-long television shows. A concerned English blogger compiled some particularly violent excerpts. “I dug up quite a bit and hacked them together into a streaming media file. It’s not for the squeemish, these kids are clearly criminals“.

Jackass was all about a group of lifelong friends playing pranks on or subsequently beating the everloving Christ out of eachother – not ‘jumping in‘ random strangers on the street. It was their cameraderie which made the show so much fun to watch. Happy Slapping is frigging twisted – violent attacks can scar people for years – I know. I sincerely hope that the Old Bill puts the kaibosh on this ridiculous practice like yesterday. Please mark this moment on your calendars as the first time I officially rolled my eyes and muttered: “Kids today”.

I have a huge block of conference calls today, and although they’re an intregal part of my job – I never look forward to them. But I suppose coroners don’t exactly look forward to the next tractor trailer vivisection that’s flopped down on their slab, either. It’s the job – suck it up or hit the breadline while you find your true calling.

My aversion isn’t human interaction – or my occupation itself – but rather the telephone. I’m not a phoner. I don’t call people to idly chat. I don’t like it when people who aren’t related to me call me for no good reason. If I’m not dating you, I shouldn’t have to pretend to be interested in sustaining a polite phonecall. Jesus this makes me sound like a prick – but there has to be a few of you out there who share this aversion.

And the sprawling, three-minute voicemails about nothing drive me insane. I sometimes go several days without checking because I dread them so much. “Hey, haven’t talked to you in about 47 minutes. Wanted to see what you were up to. Listen, uh, give me a call back when you get a chance, so we can continue to burn cell minutes talking about things I wouldn’t cross the street to say to you.” Or the gem I actually had to exit a restaurant and walk 2 blocks to get a signal in order to hear: “Hey, remember when I called earlier and said I’d meet you at that restaurant at 6? Well I’ll still be there at 6.”

I once thought it was unique to women, but have had to change my stance. I have male friends who are on their phones every free minute of the day. “Whatcha doin?” “Nothing.” “What are you doing?” “Fuck off.” It’s tough love – you’re not a 12 year old chick eager to talk about whatever episode of the OC just ended. Get off the phone unless a mutual friend has died. Preferably someone to which I owed money.

Thanks to everyone who came to the Cinco De Cinco party on Saturday night. Apparently, there were actually several of you whom I did not get around to making out with, but I promise you’ll be on the top of the list for next time. I feel so dirty. Not really. Anyhew (selected) photos will be forthcoming, and let’s just wash ourselves with de-lousing powder and move on to the quotelet, shall we?

“My boobs get all biggish, when I eats me spinach. I’m Kelly the sailor whoore.”

Someone just told me to “shoot them an email” and I came to a violent realization – I have a new pet peeve. I saw his mouth form the aforementioned words, but “Shoot me in the head with a rusty whaling-era speargun” is what I heard in my mind’s eye. I’ve been meaning to start working towards actively changing some of our company’s vernacular, and this is as good a time as any. Also on my hitlist:

• Brainfarts
• Whatnot
• Push (interchangable with ‘shoot’ in most cases)
• Comprehensive
• ‘Here’ and ‘there’ used at the end of every phrase: “I wanted to reach you on the phone there and get you in touch with our tech guy here. Did you have anything else you wanted to ask me about there? Or can we run with the ball here?”

I’ll leave it there for now. I need to comprehensively get some work done.

Can I get a drum roll please… From the makers of Friday’s Quizzlet, Pye In The Face is proud to bring you – Monday’s Quotelet! This blog is at it’s best when it’s interactive, I’m a big fan of photo captioning contests, so it was only a matter of time until I introduced my own. It fell into place. The cookie crumbled. What comes around… came around. OK I’ll stop.

I wanted to have some special rule or stipulation that would set this contest apart – but at the same time I don’t want to be limited as to which sort of photo I use. I want the images to be current and topical. So it’ll be real simple. I’ll post a photo and get the ball rolling with a caption of my own. You guys can then try and top me. If someone manages to kick my ass, I’ll concede objectively. But I have to warn you – I’m pretty good. Bragging rights will take the form of a “current caption champ” section on the left hand sidebar – complete with your own photo and everything. And with no further adue…

“Paula – just so you know, I voted myself off three times in the car on the way here.”

I took Janet to see Jim Norton at the Comedy Connection Saturday night, and he was disgustingly hilarious. I first noticed ‘Little Jimmy’ as a regular on Tough Crowd, and have since become a big fan of his hyper-offensive and self-depricating style. Referring to one’s existence as the product of a scientist “injecting a pregnant duck with Down Syndrome” takes a level of self comfort that I’m not currently familiar with.

By far, my favorite joke was when Jim started talking about a T-Shirt he wants to create which would read – “It’s not rape if she blinks twice for yes”. I’m not going to try and do him justice here in print. Jimmy mentioned an HBO special he’d taped literally the night before in NYC, and I’m looking forward to seeing his “fat little b-cup man titties” again on my TV real soon. He’s among the best comedians working today and I’d suggest you check him out when he hits your town. Especially if you’re from the oft and easily-offended Garafalo/Cho camp.