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Archives: Mar 2010

Pull down your pants for Google

I don’t want to get weird here, reader, but one of you has to have sex with Google. The competition for Google Fiber, which could provide internet speeds of up to 100 bazillion fartillion gigabytes per second, is heating up. No matter what crazy act Duluth does, shittier towns like Topeka, KS and Turd, IN keep matching us.

Yes, I know Mayor Donny Ness was on the front page of the New York Times for jumping in the icy water of Lake Superior, but don’t get cocky. It’s only a matter of time before Google realizes that Ness does that every day to keep his hairstyle frozen in place. Which works, by the way. It doesn’t make your hair greasy like gel.

We need to do something to show Google we’re more desperate and pathetic than those other cities. Sadly, everything seems to have been done. Topeka renamed its town. The mayor of Sarasota, FL swam with sharks. A dairy in Madison, WI created Google-flavored ice cream. Residents of Flint, MI tied a dog to a lamppost and threatened to beat it to death.

Paul Ryan sued for lack of procreation

Paul Ryan, famed Reader Weekly columnist and 2006 recipient of the Girl Scout Gold Award, is being sued by his parents for a lack of grandchildren. Filed in federal court on Monday, the suit claims Mr. Ryan violated a contract signed at birth that guarantees at least one grandchild by the age of 30.

“My clients have given the defendant nearly a year of additional time to fulfill his contract,” said Nelson Fartoon, lawyer for Mr. Ryan’s parents. “We have substantial evidence that he hasn’t even attempted to spread his seed for that entire extension period, opting instead to spend his free time playing video games and looking up photos of motorcycle accidents on the internet.”

Mr. Ryan – a former astronaut, war hero, and erotic dancer – says the contract is invalid, as a baby is not fit to sign legally binding documents. In addition, he says the contract terms are unreasonable since it also requires him to provide eight grandchildren by the age of 33.

I don’t know what time it is

Daylight Savings Time was last week, and I still have no idea what time it is right now. Noon? 1pm? 11am? Beats the hell out of me. When I woke up Sunday morning, half my clocks had switched over automatically, while the other half had not. The trouble is, I have no idea which clocks are automatic and which aren’t.

My computer, which you’d think would switch automatically, said 12:01. My cellphone, which you’d also think would be automatic, said 11:01. To make matters worse, my wristwatch said 1:01, which makes me suspect that I’ve actually been living on the wrong time for the past five months without even realizing it.

I know this all sounds irrational and made-up – a clever joke I constructed for the sake of a good column topic – but it’s not. I’m dead serious. I honestly don’t know what freaking time it is right now. I’ve been unemployed for much longer than five months, so it’s not entirely unfathomable that I’ve spent a half year of my life not knowing the correct time.

Tips for the new website

Just wanted to note a few things people might have missed:

1) If you hover over “Archives”, the first option in the menu is “Classics”. This is a collection of my favorite Ramblings columns from over the years.

2) The “About” page has a link to the old blog, and other old site content.

3) I’m still adding older Ramblings columns into this new site. Everything from 2007 to now is here, as well as college and high school columns, but there’s still roughly 800 more to transfer. In the meantime, you can find really old ones here.

Reginald VelJohnson has already turned this down

Okay, so I’ve got this idea for a TV show. It’s about this guy. He’s exactly like me, right? Except he’s dating that chick from Big Bang Theory and he has some awesome disease where he has great abs without actually having to work out. They just tone themselves naturally, even if he eats a whole bucket of fried chicken by himself and the napkins are all the way in the kitchen so he just wipes it all on the couch. None of that affects his great abs.

So this guy – who is exactly like me in every way, except he has a job, and his parents don’t ask him if he’s gay every time they call, and people generally like him and consider him fun to be around – he basically does really cool stuff every week, and people will watch and love this show because of all the cool stuff he does every week.

I will think up the “cool stuff” later, after the show gets picked up by a major network and their tremendously generous check clears at the bank. That’s how it works when you’re a TV writer. Every day is like winning the lottery, or like being born with an enormous penis. It’s awesome.