Monday, January 24, 2011

Shameless Joke Theft

Emmy Rossum (from Showtime's Shameless) tells a joke for Esquire magazine.  At the end, she slips in another one real fast, but it's one I feel like I've heard before. Somewhere.

I have attractive readers! Souped.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Short Hits for The BEST NIGHT EVER

Generally speaking, I only use all caps when I'm being sarcastic. Or if I type really hard.

In this case, it's sarcasm because I live in a tourist destination and I'm staying in watching late night standup on Comedy Central.  No, see all of my friends are busy.  Really.  REALLY!  Sorry, typed too hard.

This seemed like an appropriate time to fire off a post.  The following items could probably be full entries but I don't have the attention span to flesh them out. Here we go.

- Last week I was looking up peer-reviewed research articles in the library (why, yes, ladies... I am single, how did you...?) and typed in the terms "student teaching" and "classroom discourse" for my project.  I click on the most promising article, and the first two categories for this article are, I kid you not, 1) "student teaching", and 2) "social isolation".  Yup.  Sounds about right.

- Just ran to the bodega to buy some root beer (it's how I roll) and paid in spare change (mostly dimes) and realized (not for the first time) that (in addition to using parentheses) I love paying in change.  It really does feel like you got your stuff for free.

- To be a student teacher in NYC, you have to schlep on over to Downtown Brooklyn and get fingerprinted.  This is so they can weed out the weirdo candidates that are criminals or bad finger-painters or lack hands.  After the privilege of having your fingers sqashed onto a scanner, one by one, you then get slammed with a $115 fee.  Yes, a buck fifteen, but sadly not a buck fifteen. $115.  Yet, if I had committed some dumb crime like, say, jaywalking with intent to launder, I would get fingerprinted for free.  Not okay, New York.  Not okay.

- Apropos of nothing, the comedian in the 11:00 timeslot (wow, it's that late already) tried to make a joke about how Mexican girls are always pregnant, and the crowd shut him down.  Really.  Audible boos and groans.  Then he makes a joke about how the audience wants to play "The Real World is Not Real" game, and adds a few more dime-a-dozen stereotypes, and still they don't take the bait with a sympathy laugh.  It was almost inspiring, but then he told a joke about midgets and the audience ate it up.  So much for that.

My whip.
- Next comedian made fun of a Honda Civic.  Maybe he was making fun of himself for not being able to afford one?  I don't get it.  I really like my first car.

- There might be worse feelings than checking your phone on a Friday night and seeing no texts and no missed calls, but I'm not sure what those feelings are.

Check out this Dylan guy.  Real up and comer.

- I enjoy having very specific music tastes and distastes.  For example, I'm generally pretty ambivalent about classical music, but I really, really like Tchaikovsky, and I really don't like Vivaldi at all.  A jazz example: Totally dig hard bop but I can't get into fusion.  I like early Chicago, mid-period Steely Dan, Motown around 1965, and one Pink Floyd song (ten points if you guess which one).  Especially unique--I like Bob Dylan's latest stuff way, way better than his famous stuff (except "Just Like A Woman"--which is awesome).

"Sorry that my carrots are limp."

- There have been so many previews for "No Strings Attached" that I feel like I've seen 30-40 minutes of the film.  It's this year's "Dinner for Schmucks" or "Due Date" in that it is so overexposed already, there can't be anything left in the film worth seeing.  Not that I was going to see it anyway.  This is too bad, because I find Ludacris to be a legitimately funny actor. Or at least a funny dude.

- Great joke that's worth repeating:
Q:  What happens when you play a country song backwards?
A:  He gets his dog back, his truck back, and his girl back.

Wow, I just live-blogged a night on the couch.  So proud.  Goodnight, more popular people.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

An Open Letter to the Middle-Aged, Paunchy Dude Sitting Across from Me at the Library

Come on, man. Even
kids know this stuff.
 Thanks for your ongoing effort to cough all over the keyboard. Don't cover your mouth or anything. I think I'm literally nauseous.

Just know that if I didn't take Vitamin C every day, drink a ridiculous amount of orange juice, and have a public-school-tested immune system, I'd probably throw a can of Lysol at your head.  Bathe thyself, inconsiderate germ distributor, and begone with thee already.