To Ululay, CP, Tenacious S, and The Rest of The Echo Mafia

Unlike Grant Miller, I want to thank my many reader and all who contribute here at The Unofficial. I know, Grant is trying to tear this house apart. Asking everyone to pick sides. While he's spreading his message of hate, I'm spreading this peanut butter message of love...

(Sung to Yesterday by McCartney/Lennon)

Ululay
Long time now you been reading may
Your tattoo made me want to say, hey! Okay?
Grant Miller sucks in a big way



T, Today
Grant Miller said he hated you and may
Now, we need to drink away the pain
Grant Miller sucks in a big way



CPunchman, hey,
Wow, you looking good today
Must not have seen all of Grant Miller's hate
Grant Miller sucks in a big way



Why he had to blow, I don't know
He wouldn't say
I said he's a schlong
He sucks in a big way-ay-ay

Look, okay?
It's not so bad if you look away.
Lumped us together like his Ay-dohPlay
Grant Miller sucks in a big way.....

I don't think Grant Miller ever wrote a song to his readers, do you?

Okay... I lost... And I always pay my debts on time... Here's a pair of workout shorts...

And that's one more thing you'll never get at The Official Site of [Redacted]....

A Line In The Sand

Dear reader,

At 1600hrs Central Time today Grant Miller declared war on The Unofficial to include anyone who participates here at The Unofficial- Tenacious S, Ululay, Coaster Punchman, and myself. He also declared that he will not rest until we all disassociate ourselves with The Unofficial. I have asked Carissa, my unfathomably beautiful AND imaginary intern, and Dwight K. Schrute, my director of security and assistant to the regional blogger, to draw up plans for war!

Grant Miller has decided that he has powers granted to him by the constitution. Any of you familiar with Grant know that he wipes his ass with the constitution at every opportunity. It's time to tell Grant that enough is enough - that your right to stand with The Unofficial is protected under the first ammendment.

Sides are being drawn. Some of you will undoubtedly side with the *labcoat*. For those of you who want to fight the corporatism that our enemy encourages (we have no advertising and never will here at The Unofficial) I say, Join the Unofficial and become an Official member of The Unofficial Revolution. Visit the Official and let [Redacted] know that you're not going to stand for his bullying tactics. Dwight will now share some words.



Okay, people.

This is war. Let's get the pitchforks and muskets and engage the enemy!

Sincerely,

Dwight K. Schrute
Assistant to the Regional Blogger

BREAKING NEWS! ECHO TO ADDRESS NATION!

Dear Reader,

Last night, I let you down. I stepped into The Throw Down Lounge and gave my best. However, on this night it would not be enough. As my lawyers review the agreements between me and my competitor, I want you to know that I will comply with their ruling exactly as stated as to what I owe for my loss.

Don't hang your heads in failure. Last night, we showed that we can go toe to toe with the very best our challengers have to offer. In years to come, we may in fact point to last night as a defining moment in the history of this great nation.

While others cower in the corner and refuse to stand in confrontation with those who oppose us, we stand resolute in the knowledge that ours is a noble cause.

To my challenger, I doff my cap and bid you a most gracious and humble congratulatory affection. Fierce in battle and wise in spirit, with a dangerous knowledge of the popular culture that threatens to rot our great intellectual core, Tenacious S is a fine champion and a great ambassador for our sport. We must not let the words of the Schrute undermine our nobility nor allow the demons of our darker nature to cheapen her victory nor weaken our posture of wisdom and kindness on this fateful day.

So, I say, congratulations, Tenacious S, thank you to my many reader, and good luck to all future representatives of this great democracy.

Yours in peace,

Echo

"All of the true things I'm about to tell you are shameless lies." Tag, I'm it.

Mister Coaster Punchman tagged me. My life is spent writing and I usually read many books at once. I've read many of the other assessments from those who were tagged and have tried to avoid those books that have been mentioned everywhere.

A Book That Has Changed Your Life:

Schindler's List. Thomas Keneally tells the story of a very conflicted man who performs some heroic deeds in spite of his shortcomings. At some point we all need to stand up and be something more than just ourselves.

Cat's Cradle, Slaughterhouse Five, Breakfast of Champions - Kurt Vonnegut. Nuff said.

Honorable Mentions: Fun With Dick And Jane (Hey, I learned how to read, alright??), Almost anything by Steinbeck... Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by J Saffron Foer - 9/11 made personal...

A Book That I've Read More Than Once:

Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut. My karass was never the same.

Moneyball: The Art Of Winning An Unfair Game by .... is another absolute favorite of mine. I love playing games and am constantly on the lookout for new tactics and strategies. Moneyball is a book about throwing away what you think you know about something and taking a fresh look at what is really there. As one team spends a bazillion dollars year in and year out, the Oakland A's finish at or near the top with players nobody has heard of.

Lord Of The Flies, Of Mice And Men, On The Road, and anything by John Le Carre....

A Book That Makes You Laugh

Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris. Laughing out loud on an airplane so hard that tears were coming out of my eyes... Sedaris kills!

Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy by Douglas Adams. The jokes on you and the answer to life, the universe and everything is... 42.

Honorable Mention: David Sedaris is always funny. Books on Groucho... And Sarah Vowell - funny, funny, funny, and of course, Mr. KURT V!!!

Book That Makes You Cry

Don't Lets Go To The Dogs Tonight - Alexandra Fuller... Why? Cuz I'm a big sally... I don't know...

Bag Of Bones by Stephen King...problematic book that is the usual mixed bag from Mr. King. But when he's good...he's damn good. When he's bad... well, he's really bad. In Bag Of Bones, he conveys loss in a very personal way.

Honorable mentions: A Separate Peace, Of Mice and Men, the 2006 White Sox Scouting Report

Book You Wish You Had Written

The Bible. Have you read it? OMG, they were sooo fucking tripping. In my version of the Bible, we all take care of each other. Oh, and there's alot more sex and alot less hate. I'd end every book in the bible with "Increase the peace, bitches!"

Seriously, though, Michael Chabon's The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay... Perfect in soooo many ways.

High Fidelity by Nick Hornby. I know it's fashionable to ding Nick, but I don't care. I like High Fidelity. I admit his other works are uneven at best. High Fidelity works better than the others because it feels like it's Nick talking about Nick as opposed to trying to invent characters he can't relate to.

Honorable Mentions: The Constant Gardener (if only to fix the horrible computer-speak in there)

Book You Wish Had Never Been Written

Amityville Horror... scared the shit out of me... but that's another story (and before any of you chime in I believe I was 8 years old at the time...)

Book You Are Currently Reading

American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Assassination Vacation - Sarah Vowell
The Stranger - Albert Camus.... just kidding... I'm not reading this... and neither is Commander Cuckoo Bananas, no matter what Tony Snow claims...
Parable of the Sower - Octavia Butler
The Devil In The White City - Erik Larson
A Long Way Down - Nick Hornby

Book You've Been Meaning To Read

Freakonomics

Tag some folks!

Grant Miller - Consider yourself tagged, bitch.
Chris - You too.
Next Great Genius - Taggy taggy....
Anyone reading this who hasn't been tagged yet....

Five points to the first person who knows where the title came from and its importance. No googling, please.

Thank You

A big thanks to Old Lady and Dale for showing up at The Throwdown Lounge last night. Win or lose, we appreciate that you took time out of your busy schedules to watch and participate. Hope you enjoyed the show!

Tenacious S

P.S. *Dwight* apparently doesn't know how to be a polite host.

A Message Received From The Schrute

Dear Readers,

Last night was a very important matchup between Echo and the nefarious Tenacious S - the fight of the century, some might say. And where were you, faithful readers? Your vote was needed and you let Echo run headlong into a buzzsaw built on voter fraud.

Dale was there. Old Lady was there. Not that it helped. Perhaps Dale and Old Lady would like to explain how Nena gets 1 pt, but a guy who hangs around with a chimp, McCauley Culken, and a bunch of 10 year olds merits more pts than should be humanly allowed?

So, who didn't show? Well, it just so happens that I was taking attendance last night.

Lulu? She was probably searching for more photos of *porn bacon*. And WonderTurtle? I only wanted to see you laughing in the Purple Rain...and voting for Echo. Coaster Punchman? He's too busy pouring coffee beans in his water reservoire. [Redacted]? Too busy listening to DMB to care. NGG? My ninja squad of killer chipmunks is travelling south today...hope they don't run into your neck of the woods... Dirty? That must have been one big pile of laundry... Madison Guy? Oh, he's trying to affect change in his community by bringing awareness to those in Madison.

Well, guess what, people? You had a chance last night to affect change in our community by voting for Echo, but you chose to side with the terrorists. I hope you're all happy with your decision, now that al qaeda is the throwdown champ. *Tenacious S* is Arabic for *Why do you hate freedom?*

I'm thinking you all need an unpaid leave of absence.

Very Respectfully,

Dwight K. Schrute
Assistant To The Regional Blogger

Two Fighters Enter, One Fighter Leaves! Two Fighters Enter.... VOL II

In the first video throwdown, yours truly got his ass spanked. It was FUGLY! Not even the Hoff could save me. Tonight over at The Throw Down Lounge, Echo will lock horns with Tenacious S to determine who will be the champ! It will be Three Rounds of action. The winner will be crowned champ, and the loser will suffer an embarassing, humiliating defeat.

YOU WILL BE THE JUDGE! After each round, you will be asked to comment on who the winner of each round will be. One to five points can be awarded by you the viewers in the comments to both contestants.

The next question is who will step up and step into the ring to challenge either opponent following this historic fight?

For the record, I'm gonna call out Ululay once I'm done sweeping up what's left of Tenacious S. Who's going to step up to the table for the next fight? CP? Dale? Onderway Urtletay? Old Lady? Next Great Genius? Madison Guy??? Game on.

Tonight's fight topic? Freaky Futuristic... Showtime? Roughly 9pm Central.

Why Would You Be Nervous?

The First Rule Of Fight Club Is: There Is No Fight Club... Vol I

Tomorrow night, the Tenacious One and I will step into the ring for three rounds in the Throw Down Lounge!!! In honor of the ass whupping I'm about to deliver, I want to present this little message to Tenacious S from yours truly, Echo...oh, and please note that this song correctly uses *too* and *to*...mad props...

It's Like, You Know? Vol I

Do you, like, sometimes use the word *like* to, like, you know, hem and haw and, like, make no fucking sense??? SHEESH! Talk about driving me nuts. "It was, like, one of the things I always wanted to do with my life!" she said to the interviewer on my *shitbox*.

Ok. It either was the thing you always wanted to do... or it wasn't... Consider:

"It's, like, whenever I eat buffalo wings, well, it's, like, my ass is on fire."

TOO MANY WORDS. Try this.

"Dude. Ate wings of fire. Now my ass is blazing."

Much more efficient.

So, like, when you want to, like, say something meaningful, like, try using a word other than, like, "like" every five words! Hmmm....wings....almost as good as bacon....hmmm.....bacon (Speaking of which, Do you think Ululay is ever going to get around to adding *porn bacon* as an Unofficial Term here at The Unofficial?? Well, Ululay, you still have rights here, and the whole class is waiting...patiently, I might add....very.... patiently...)

Questions of the Universe: Or Ramblings of a Random Blogger Vol VIII (That's 8 for you illiterate types...)

So, just What ARE the requirements for becoming a gigolo? I mean, do you have to have a resume, and if so, what do you put in it? A certain amount of experience? Special skills? "I've got mad crazy oral skills, and I'm proficient at most positions as well as Microsoft Office products and Adobe Acrobat."

Can someone completely unfamiliar and inefficient at the whole sexual congress thing still get a job in this field? Is there an oversight committee that checks in once in awhile to say: you know, we're not saying you're bad, but let's face it, the quality of your work just hasn't been there for us?

Are there guidance counselors standing by waiting to tell you: you know, we think you have got what it takes, and, look, we're not blowing smoke up your ass, but you've got that special something if you know what I'm saying???

At what point in your life do you make that kind of a career switch? Are you just sitting back one day, going hmm, you know this cubicle life just isn't for me. I'm still a people person, right? Maybe I need a different career... hmm... Maybe I should run for office? Or start my own business... now there's an idea. I'll start my own services company... But what should I do?... I know! I'll become a christian rocker and troll the Denny's for hookups-- nah, that's lame... hmmm... I know! I'll have sex and make money! ...That was simple. I better finish this Sudoku puzzle first though...

What kind of benefits would you negotiate if you wanted to become a gigolo? Alright, alright. If you want me, I get 4 weeks vacation - PAID! Oh, and don't forget the vision and dental.... what? ...okay...riiiiight... Fine. I'll cover the vision, but you're still covering the dental... Okay, and I'll work the nightshift to start, but at the first opening I'm MOVING TO DAYS, GOT IT???

How do they post the jobs? *Entry Level Position Awaits A Self-Starter* ...heh...

Do they hold retirement parties or "hail and farewells" for new and old gigolos? Are self-appraisals required on an annual basis? And would I have to rank my skills from one to five with a number two pencil?

I'm just asking... that's what I do...

Go On... Kick My Ass... I'm not asking you. I'm TELLING You To Kick My Ass, Vol I

That's right. I want all of you to treat my *Artie Fufkin* derriere to a beating for my bullshit entry on Christian Rock. I still hate Scott Stapp, but to lump every rock act with a semi-christian angle into the same group was totally not cool. You were right to call me out on Detholz and Jars of Clay and U2...and sheesh! If Checko knew about what I wrote, he would have kicked my ass this weekend. So, in the comments please call me an asshole and then we can let this whole thing go. Remember... I'm not asking you to kick my ass, I'm TELLING you to kick my ass...

Unofficial Terms, Vol XIV: "Momblem"

Every family has its issues. One day you love your parents, and the next ten years you don't . It's kind of the way that life goes, it seems. Now, I know that parental relationships can be very taxing. I mean, think about it. A good parent, IMHO, spends the first 15 years of his/her kid's life teaching said kid how to get the fuck out of the house and be self-sufficient - to provide the skills necessary to survive. Invariably, the approach fails and the parents attempt to "over-protect" which never leads anywhere good.

As a public service to my gazillion of reader, I have considered the relationship of mom to child from many angles. Many of you, no doubt (judging by your comments) are in need of therapy. (How else do you explain wasting your time reading this site???) And we all know that therapists charge by the minute. In the end, just like Freud, all roads lead back to mother, right?

Unofficial Reader: Oh, my life is soooo horrible. They *never* have kiwi and star fruit at the Treasure Island Grocery!
Therapist: This clearly involves unresolved feelings for your mother.

Or maybe it's something different?

Unofficial Reader: Oh, my life is soooo horrible. The Bugati is running rough in fourth gear.
Therapist: Hmm. You really do hate your mother, don't you?

But it doesn't stop there either, does it?

Unofficial Reader: I held up the Quik-E-Mart. I've got a nasty habit of shoplifting snow shovels from Home Depot. The Official Site Of [Redacted] is fucking hysterical.
Therapist: Hello??? Mommy issues???

So, to continue the precedent started previously in the segment we call Unofficial Terms, I am going to reduce your Total Investment in Therapy (TIT) by allowing you to walk into your therapist's office and beat him/her to the punch. Sample future exchange between Unofficial Reader and Therapist:

Unofficial Reader: Dude, I've got a *momblem*.
Therapist: Yeah... I got nothing...

I figure that by adopting the *momblem* the average Unofficial Reader will save on average $1,789.43 annually in therapy costs. That's your widescreen TV, my friend. *Momblem*.... Yeah... And, that's an Unofficial Term...

FRAMPTON COMES ALIVE! Vol III - You Be The Judge

Virgin Mary on a Turtle??? No fucking way! That is clearly P-Framp...AGAIN. The outline on that turtle's stomach is clearly P-Framp's sillhouette. He's coming, people. He really, really is! The first cut of his new album of instrumentals is out. Why else would he release "Black Hole Sun" first?? This is the most ingenious marketing tie-in EVER! It's soooo obvious!!!

FRAMPTON COMES ALIVE! Vol II

BREAKING NEWS: Woman believes J-Zeus appears in MRI. Noted rock historian, Echo Tremaine, refutes claim and posits theory that Frampton is channeling himself into everyday objects all around the globe in preparation for his second coming. However, the sheeple are *too* dim to realize it. Says Echo, "What we are clearly seeing is Frampton channeling his greatest moments from the Marin Civic Center concerts. This image is a direct imprint of P-Framp basking in the adoration of his swooning fans following the first encore. He's telling us he's ready for his comeback!"

"NO WAY!"

Barbie 1 (to Barbies 2,3,4 and Ken): "Echo's right, Barbie! That isn't our lord and one true saviour! It's Peter Fucking Frampton!"

Giggle... Titter... Giggle...

Ken: "I love his hair..."

Barbie 2: "Let's go have a pillow fight now!"



This candid moment brought to you by Yahoo. When you need natural looking photographs of office workers slacking off for a story bemoaning the lack of productivity from disillusioned cubicle rats, choose Yahoo! And don't forget our "Get A Dissident Imprisoned Special Offer" going on right now!!!

Do You Feel Like I Do? (I think the image is Frampton, not the son of God)

See? Definitely Frampton. Curly hair, induces mass hysteria, probably involves hallucinogenic drugs.

FRAMPTON COMES ALIVE! Vol I

So, I surfed over to Pandagon (if you don't visit there, start now), and saw this story that seems to have become the theme of the week here at The Unofficial. That's right, it's J-Zeus week here at TU (that's what the kool kidz kall it).

At any rate, we have another J-Zeus sighting. This time a woman who had a difficult pregnancy claims she can see J-Zeus in her ultra sound. Any half-blind dimwit can tell you that isn't Jesus. It's Peter Fucking Frampton! It's clear as day.

Who do you see in the photo?

Christian Rockers: Bad Rockers? Or Just Bad Christians? Vol I

Rock'n'roll, I was taught at a young age, was a euphemism for "sexual congress" (and here I thought that was reserved for Senators!) Then in the 80s the first of what would be many "Christian Rock Acts" managed to catch my attention (though not necessarily in a good way.) Stryper jumped into the scene sporting bumble bee like costumes and singing like the Scorpions with a Styx mentality. Others would follow paving a way for the Worst. Band. Ever. Of course, I'm talking about Creed.

In the late nineties all the way up to late 2000 I was forced to work with a woman who worshipped Creed. "It's just so nice to have a band that knows rock'n'roll, has a good message, and always remembers to keep Christ in their heart."

Now, I am perhaps the worst guitar player ever, but I do know this. The goals of Christianity and the goals of Rock'n'roll do not interesect. If I wanted a bloated message in my music at least dress it up with some interesting musicianship. Or just be honest. By now, everyone is familiar with the documented case of Scott Stapp getting punk'd on a Booty Call at a Denny's in Gainesville, Florida. From one of the first hand accounts, we get this:

So this group from the party makes it over to Denny's, strategically choosing places all around the Denny's so that we can watch what goes down. It's 3am on a Friday, so of course the place is packed with drunk kids getting out of the bars, who have no idea what they're about to be in for. Jeanine, Heather, and I all have prime seating-- we're directly next to the booth with the girl who has been talking to Creed, as well as her 5 friends who are all in on the joke and have been planning extra embarrassing things to do to him. The girl who is keeping track of him via cell phone convos lets me know that Creed has been in fine form so far tonight. Here is how one of the conversations went:

Creed: "Do you have an acoustic guitar with you in Gainesville?"
Her: "Um, yeah."
Creed: "Good, maybe you can help me write my new hit single!"
Me, after hearing the story: "I applaud your ability not to vomit at that."

Now we're convinced he's on his way. We hear the countdown from the table next to us: "He's in Micanopy!" "He's passing UF!" "He's pulling into the parking lot!" The excitement is killing me. And then he enters. Creed steps into the Gainesville Denny's, wearing a wife beater and slick running pants, desperately trying to find his hookup. My life is complete.

When you've oversold your Christian cred, you come off as a major league asshole when out on a booty call...with your sister as your chauffeur no less. He might as well introduce himself at every future venue he's allowed near with "I have Christ in my heart, I've got pussy on my brain, and I've got the situational awareness of a walnut."

So, remember, boys and girls, just like the inability to splice pig and elephant DNA, you can't mix religion and rock'n'roll without sounding like...well,...like Scott Stapp - that is, a total douchebag. I bet Grant Miller listens to Creed...


(photo was apparently taken at the Denny's in Florida last year...and lifted from the Encyclopedia Dramatica - linked above)

Unofficial Terms, Vol XIII: "Barbie Fun House"

So, here I am surfing over to Pandagon and I see this post referring to a site that's actually selling the "pajamas" shown above. Armor of God Pajamas? I got to thinking that this was actually a brilliant idea. I mean, think of the spinoffs: Armor of God Undershirts - Pit Stain Resistant with new Jesus Powered Stain Resistant Fibres, Armor of God Flannel Shirts and Blue Jeans - nothing keeps you safer on the job, and finally, Armor of God Thongs and Chastity Belts - When the devil's trying to break into the *Barbie Fun House* nothing sets him back quicker than Armor of God Chastity Belts, now with new and improved security!

Protect your *Barbie Fun House* with Army Of God Apparel. And for the gentlemen our new Army of God adult movie selection featuring censored lovemaking in the missionary position will make sure that your *Shell Shy Turtle* grows into a serpent of God without the need for little blue pills...

(And no, Ululay and Onderway Urtletay, you can not name your next album *Barbie Fun House* - that's an Unofficial Term!)


UPDATE: Ten S is right. The missing product is the Armor of God *pocket rocket protector* (and that's Tenacious Terminology!) Sure to ward off the Squirming Super Serpant from hell that is trying to tempt our male youth!

UPDATE 2: I'm proud to say that *Barbie Fun House* is the 200th post here at The Unofficial! Surely, a momentous occasion! Here's to 200 more...

If This Is It, You Should Probably Get A Bikini That Fits, Vol I

If this Is It


Slipping nudity into music videos, even if it's just a frame, is something of a lost art form. As someone who was once an editor, inserting or allowing a flash frame that would get by people was something of a challenge. Whether it's Walt Disney's clan inserting a purple phallus on the father's bib in Peter Pan and calling it a treasure map or Jessica Rabbit spreading her legs, editors and artists have a devious streak in them.

When I came across this link via Nerve's Scanner Blog (which as you kids know is NSFW and linked on the right), I thought, cool, Madonna got her nipple into a mainstream video. But I remember that my guilty pleasure, Huey Lewis, beat Madonna to the punch when one of his extras sported a little nipple popping in "If This Is It" back in the day. Give the time stamp of the *exposure* and be the Unofficial Nipple King or Queen for the week!

It's my opinion that our culture is a little hung up on Nipple-phobia (get over it, folks, we've all got them) and nudity in general (Get over it, folks, we're all naked under our clothes), but this attention to any nippular action - let's not toss that around, that's a technical term - is really quite pathetic.

Still, Madonna's got a very lovely left nipple. I applaud that nipple. And to the extra in Huey's video whose nipple is barely visible in this resolution, I say, huzzah! I hereby declare this week to be "Show Us Your Nipples Week!" In that spirit, I will now take off my shirt and walk up and down my block showing my nipples for all to see. Who says echo doesn't know how to deal with Nipplephobic Sheeple???

Unofficial Terms, Vol XII: "It's not okay to be homophonic"

Recently, I shared with you my distrust of those who misuse homophones - words that sound the same but are spelled differently and have different meanings like "to" and "too". I live in fear of those who write "their" when they mean "there" or "they're"; *they're* not fooling anyone. It may be okay over *there*, but over here *their* ignorance cannot mask that *they're* fucking morons... or worse yet, *homophonic*. Millions are afflicted with *Homophonophobia* or the fear of misusing homophones. If you or someone you love suffers from *Homophonophobia* or are just a little *homophonic* please remember that help awaits...in every third grade English Textbook.

Dateline: Unofficial or Wherein We Expose Grant Miller!!! ...er...that didn't come out right... Vol I

So, [Redacted] is soooo creative, right? Well, I travelled to Madison, Wisconsin today and was forced to surf from a work computer. What I found and recorded will shock you.

As many of you have noticed, [Redacted] gets his hooks into a theme and doesn't seem to let go. Take "Death Cab For Cutie or Anonymous Hipster" for example. Many of us have suggested that perhaps this was an example of Miller phoning it in. But, was there more to this story than meets the eye? What I found and recorded will shock you.

Where does [Redacted] find his inspiration? Maybe he finds it here? Now, if you think the story ends here, you'd be mistaken. What I found and recorded will shock you.

The offending site not only reveals that Grant Miller has been lifting his posts verbatim from another author, but that he may, in fact, have not stopped there. Did Grant Miller steal not just another blogger's ideas, but his very identity? What I found and recorded will shock you.

We at The Unofficial called the two Grant Millers for comment but received no reply. Obviously, this means that [Redacted] is, in fact, guilty. Regardless of any further developments on this matter, it's obvious as a matter of historical record that [Redacted] is not only guilty, but really fucking guilty. The press is never wrong. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Unofficial Terms, Vol VVI (Just checking again; I'm working here, people!): "Laptop Buddy Breathing"

Specialokay was over this weekend and fired up her laptop - a Mac PowerBook. That's when she realized she didn't have her power cord. We were forced to *laptop buddy breathe* as I pass my power cord and adaptor over to her and then back to me, working feverishly to keep our batteries at 50% until help could arrive. Thankfully, we didn't run into any power sharks... That would have totally sucked...


editor's note: I am told by specialok's significant other that he has heard this turn of phrase at business meetings. Goody for him. I have a plausible explanation for how this is possible. Just watch this video where Britney explains how it was possible for me to create this Unofficial Term....

Spectral Nudity, Vol II

Okay. So, the Chocolatiers discovered the Virgin Mary in chocolate... and she's still dressed like she may have been 2,000 years ago if she existed at all. Now, I know alot of people claim they've seen her in everything from water stains on a wall to grilled cheese sandwiches. I think we can all agree that she is screaming out for help. She needs to be the season finale for "Queer Eye for The Virgin Mother".

I say we update her image. Give her a little bling. A little pizzazz. Giving her the Gwen Stefani look might be a bit much, but it might also say, Hey! Look at me! I get young people! For years the churches have been complaining that young people are abandoning them. Well, give them a reason to come back. Hip hop Mar-E and J-Zeus might just be the needed touch.

While we're at it, we can update the Jesus story for a modern audience. I'm thinking, J-Zeus and Jupac (Judas) and an East Coast / West Coast thing. I can hear J-Zeus preaching right now...

Unh, Unh, B-I-G Z-E-ZE-U-S,
No info for the Pilate Pontius
Roman Agents
Mad cuz I'm Flagrant
Tapped my donkey and my boys in the basin'

Of course, in *Spectral Vision* (the way Echo sees ghosts) Mary would be naked...especially if she happened to look like Gwen Stefani. I wonder how that would play in chocolate??

Unofficial Terms, Vol VV (Just checking again to see if you're paying attention): "Of Britists and Anglophobes"

Everyone has quirks, right? My best friend hates British TV shows and movies. If there's an English accent, he gets angry. Naturally, I try to introduce him to all the British programming I can. I loaned him the first season of MI-5 aka *Spooks* on DVD. He called it garbage. "I can't understand a fucking thing they're saying. It's like they're talking with marbles in their mouths." I tried other quality programming and movies and received equally tepid borderline annoyed reactions from him. That's when I realized that he is experiencing white on white racism, and therefore he must be a *Britist*.

Can't watch Waking The Dead because of the accents. Elizabeth, the movie? "Trash....it would have been better without the accents." I Claudius? "OMFG, will you kill the power? That was sooo unbelievably horrible!!" I introduce his kids to Wallace & Gromit and he shakes his head in disgust. And last night? Well, last night I watched "V For Vendetta" and loved it. The *Anglophobe*? "Worst Movie Ever." Now, granted Natalie Portman is as British as Gillian Anderson and we all remember how that worked out, right? I think the moment Stephen Rea appeared on the screen, the Britist just tuned out...

If you or someone you love is an *Anglophobe* or *Britist*, go to their house and reprogram their remotes so that the only channel they get is BBC America. It may be torture to them, but to you it's entertainment on two fronts. One, you get to watch "Little Britain", and two, you get to watch your friends squirm.

Chocolatiers Find Virgin Mary In Chocolate; Echo Finds French Fry In Onion Rings!

Coincidence? Oh, I don't think so...

Question of a Random Blogger: Do agnostics see something that may or may not look like...something?

UPDATE: I just *NEED* to point something out that really pisses me off. If you look at the link to this story at Yahoo up above, you will find that this was a *news* story. With all of the shit blowing up in this world, how the fuck is this news???? Now, back to *snarkiness*....

UPDATE TWO: I can't believe this crap. This story is NOW the FEATURED story at Yahoo.com... Glad to see America knows what's important.

My Big Fat Crazy Greek Hospital Director, Vol I

Today at CNN, they posted the following story about a distraught, possibly drunk man who following a disagreement with his wife grabbed his two children and jumped off a fourth floor balcony at a four star hotel in Greece killing his son and injuring himself and his daughter.

Now, I, obviously, do not condone people in any state jumping off fourth floor hotel balconies, although my friend, Joe, in college jumped through what amounted to a third story window on a drunken dare and walked away unscathed. No, this question has nothing to do with the guy who jumped. That's just sad. He's 32 years old and obviously operating in a deteriorated state. No, the question revolves around the outrageous comments of the Heraklion Hospital Director, one Panayotis Spatharakis. At first, I thought of starting a feature: Bed Side Manner With Panayotis Spatharakis. However, even I am not that *jaded* (just a nod to my zillion of regular reader).

Said Panni to the Daily Mirror:

"We asked him why he did it and he told us he was very drunk and could not exactly remember what happened.

"I feel that once he recovers and understands what he has done he should commit suicide."

Whu??? "He should commit suicide." Talk about making a bad situation worse. Didn't he ever learn about *inside words* vs. *outside words*? I'm thinking that Panayotis Spatharakis is Greek for Grant Miller. Thoughts?

Detective Echo Unmasks Fellow Bloggers! Vol I

BREAKING NEWS! When Tenacious S and Ulu-lay took over the reins of The Unofficial in July of 2006 while Echo was off on hiatus, never in their wildest dreams did they think that Echo would be working quietly in the background to unmask them. This is not the first time that I have outed a fellow blogger. I think back to the damage I caused Grant Miller when I revealed that he was, in fact, Grant Miller of St Charles, Illinois. Now, some of you still haven't figured out how I pulled that one off. Well, that's because I am a professional.

Not even I would have guessed that the lovely Lulu and the fiery Tenacious S would misstep so badly in their attempts to discredit the proprietor of The Unofficial. Little did I know that in their attempts to be clever they would accidentally publish a photo of themselves right here on the Unofficial. Now, we can relive that event.

Carissa, can we put that photo up, now? (Carissa's the name of my new intern responsible for putting photos up on the blog.)



No!! Not that one, Carissa! Quick, switch to the other one!



Thanks, Carissa. Nice job! Just forget you ever saw that other one. Sheesh. (Hey, btw, I'm taking the name *Carissa* back to help all of those who were saddled with *porn worthy* names!)

There you have it. Tenacious S and Lulu in happier times. Lulu is in blue. (See. That's how they do it. Trying to be all clever. "Lulu" rhymes with blue...blue.... well you get the picture.) Thanks for trashing the place. Now that I know who you are, I'll just drive around Chicago until I find you - shouldn't be too hard with that hair and that getup. And when I do find you...well, I'll deliver the bill for the fire you started. It was pretty impressive... Marshmallows, anyone???

Unofficial Terms, Vol VIIII (Just checking to see if you're paying attention): "Porn-worthy"

This morning I received a *special email* from "Carissa". In her subject line, Carissa wrote: Make yourself more attractive to others Just what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Am I unattractive somehow? Why would I need to be more attractive to others? Maybe, I'm fucking fantastically attractive! Maybe I'm massive (that was another email...sheesh).

It got me wondering. Does the spammer say to him/herself,

Self, let's name our writer Martha...no... Lisa... no... Carissa! Yes, Carissa! That sounds *porn-worthy*, right? And then, instead of suggesting that our reader is unattractive, let's suggest that he or she is just in need of some...tweaking. And then, let's make our text all one big hyperlink with embedded flash so that you can't cut and paste it and mock it openly on a blog that one other person reads... I think I'm onto something!

I've decided that I need to build a better spam filter. My solution is ingenius. I am going to visit adult sites and copy down all of the first names of all of the female *performers*. That's right. If you're name is *porn worthy*, I'm not going to take your messages anymore. *Porn-worthy* names are gateway names to other more serious problems. Chances are, if you have a *porn-worthy* name, you're probably one half step away from promiscuity, now aren't you? Go on, admit it. I'm doing you a favor. So, is your name *porn-worthy*? If you were a spam writer, which porn worthy name would you use? (And keep it clean it's a family show...)

UNOFFICIAL REVIEW: "The Official Site Of Grant Miller", Vol I

I have decided to start reviewing other blogs to save some time for you my many reader. In this feature I will review blogs written by Grant Miller. Today's entry, "The Official Site Of Grant Miller", or should I say, *The Official Site Of Grant Miller*, has seen tremendous growth over the last couple of months in the form of readership and, no doubt, advertising dollars. You won't find ads here at The Unofficial, though, and you know why? Because this is not about the money for Echo. I do it for the fan!

What has Grant Miller done with all of those advertising dollars? Well, for starters, he took a week off to rub elbows - to hobnob - with the rich and powerful in Martha's Vineyard and left the site in the hands of a pair of hacks. But don't worry, folks, because [Redacted] was no doubt still making money from his ads regardless of the fact that he wrote nary a word during that seven day stretch and couldn't even be bothered to write a comment while tanning his bare, waxed ass on some beach in New England (Where did you find the Brazilian, Grant? Huh? Probably one of your new, rich Republican benefactors...) I have too much respect for all of you to do that. But, I guess, when you're able to make $9 a month in advertising revenue you don't have to show pride in your work.



And what did you get at The Unofficial during my absence? You received the House Party to end all House Parties hosted by the Lovely Lulu, the Inimitable Tenacious S, and the Party King Coaster Punchman. In short, you were entertained by some folks that left cigarette burns in the carpet and beer on the walls...

[Redacted] then returned and what have we read on his site since? Death Cab For Cutie or Anonymous Indie Hipster Vol ICAN'TBELIEVEYOU'RESTILLREADINGTHIS through Vol BLOWMEI'MSTILLGETTINGPAIDINFULL...

Tell Grant Miller enough is enough. Oh, and one more thing... everyone knows that chipmunks are deranged killing machines that make Sharks look like domesticated poodles. I mean, really, [Redacted], that's the best you've got??

A Message Received From The Schrute

The Office: The More You Know 6

Wolves, people. Wolves.

Unofficial Pet Peeves: Eva Longoria Wants To Have Sex With A Woman, And I Want Her To! Vol I

One of my Unofficial Pet Peeves is the misuse of the words to and too. One means also. One is an inappropriate way to end a sentence. Care should be exercised in using them. Take for example the title of this post inspired by this story at Nerve's Scanner Blog NSFW. It comes in two very different flavors.

Eva Longoria Wants To Have Sex With A Woman, And I Want Her To!
vs.
Eva Longoria Wants To Have Sex With A Woman, And I Want Her, Too!

Wow! Those two words can really change the meaning of a sentence, wouldn't you say? Too often (see how the word too is used, boys and girls?), I find people using the word *to* when they should use the word *too*. Imprecise language pisses me off. Did I say that already?

So, remember, *too* means also! Also, remember that *to* is not the right way to end a sentence, unless you really want *to*...

Innappropriate Laughter, Vol II

Back around 1990 I enjoyed many different, quirky jobs in the television and film industries., the quirkiest being a regular gig as a cameraman for professional wrestling - that's another story. That gig led to one as a cameraman for a talk show which will remain nameless.

This talk show was a feel good talk show aimed at all the soccer moms in the Chicago area focusing primarily on *squishy* topics, but occasionally attempting to be a somber, serious, issue-heavy program complete with soft piano music to let you know that it was both serious and somber and capable of handling a serious issue. I mean, shit. They had the fucking music down pat for serious, somber, heavy issues show (which oddly enough was what it was called in Japan).

On *The Day* - the day that I almost pissed my short career away - I strolled down to Camera Two and did all the usual setup procedures: white balancing, fine tuning, adjusting headphones. As soon as the Production Manager said "Go," all hell broke loose. The guest on the day's show was a survivor of the Tiananmen Square massacre. He was there when the tanks rolled. He barely escaped. He watched his friends get run over by the steely wheels of oppression. As a young idealist, this was the kind of shit that would normally get my blood boiling. And it was about to do just that...when "Danny" the director began talking in our ears.

It started off slowly. He pretended he was acting in a Kung Foo movie. Having seen his impersonation before, despite being totally *played* even at that point, it was pretty good. So when the voice came on saying, "The Shao Lin Master orders me to battle these tanks, so I will defeat them!" my face started warming instantly. It was going to be a long show. It was the third segment where I started to snap. "Camera 2! Your Tai Chi is very calming. Now you will wither under my sword... or perhaps my tank!"

Okay. So, this shit isn't even remotely funny, right? When you have a pair of headphones on your head, your only job is to keep fucking quiet, your subject is telling a sad story that you can't understand through his thick accent, and your director is doing everything in his power to make you laugh... The three jokes that followed happened in rapid succession. I don't remember the first. I only remember the faint beginnings of a *nose snigger* that started low and grew to an amazingly muffled crescendo seconds later. The second *joke* was an oldie that was pretty racist (except that Danny was Mandarin Chinese through ancestry) having to do with "erection day" though for the life of me I don't remember the front end of the *joke*. BUT, the *joke* that broke me into a million little pieces, told while the survivor began to retell the fateful day that his friend stood in front of a long line of tanks, told while an image of the man standing in front of the tanks flashed on the monitors for all of us in the studio to see, told in a normal, conversational voice without any of the heavily accented inflections was as follows:

You know, I talked to my relatives on the phone a week ago for the first time in a year. No, seriously, I did. They kept going on about the latest fashion craze over there, but you wouldn't believe what it is. Seriously. Never believe it in a million fucking years. Tank tops. Let's crossfade to commercial.

And with that, the tears rolled down my cheeks as I struggled to hold it in. I turned my head and gradually let it out during the commercial break, turning the mic on my headset on long enough to let Danny know what a *fucker* I thought he was. We came back from the break and the *meat puppet* (Talk Show Host, aka, The Talent) let everyone know how "moving this story was." Naturally, Danny commented on how it needed to move quicker because he needed a shit break. The *meat puppet* went on to let everyone know that one of their cameramen was moved to tears. She touched the hand of the survivor and asked him to continue. Gradually, he worked himself into an emotional state, a tear forming at the edge of his eye...

"MONEY SHOT, FUCKERS! Camera 2, slow fucking zoom NOW! No more fucking around. And no fucking ladder zooms, people. Money shot! Money shot! Go! Go!"

I got the money shot. I caught it all. I'm sure what he said was very interesting. I don't remember a word of it. I remember *Tank Tops* like it was yesterday. A chance to hear an historical conversation and I remember a lame joke and the fact that I was able to slowly zoom in on his tear as the music started to take us into another commercial. "And hold that closeup, Camera 2!" And that, my friends, is how you get jaded...

Unofficial Terms, Vol VIII (V is still in the works): "Nose Snigger"

George Carlin once delivered a piece on laughing inappropriately and mentioned doing just that in front of a casket. I can relate to that. I was at a funeral in 1990ish for a girlfriend's Italian great aunt. The family requested that the Catholic priest who had a fifty plus year relationship with the family come out of retirement to say "mass" for Rose.

The ceremony was somber...until the blessing of the bread and wine. By this point in my life I was a recovering Catholic going through the motions out of respect for the family. "This is the blood of Christ," his frail voice quivering as much as his unsteady hands lifting the chalice up for all to see, "which will be given up for you." He placed the chalice to his lips, taking a smalll sip as is customary. He then took the white linen to dab at his lips and wipe the chalice as was also customary. After dabbing his lips, though, the "napkin" was placed back on the alter and that's when the fun began.

The priest held the chalice up towards the other priests and alter boys present and proceeded to *chug* the chalice, his mic'd voice sending a *cartoon gulping* over the sound system. Overcome by grief, no one noticed this - no one but me and my girlfriend's dad, a former police officer and one of the funniest people I've ever known. I looked at him and he at me, his lips pursing together while his muscles twitched attempting to suppress the laughter overcoming him. Both of us turned purple trying to keep it in. I tried to recite the starting lineup for the Kansas City Royals - a baseball team I could give two shits about. I tried remembering all the dead people I'd ever known. It was then that it happened.

I let out the *nose snigger*. It's the laugh that sounds like an 80 year old having a sinus attack. As soon as I did that, her father let out the coughing laugh suppressor. The priest then filled the chalice again to share with the other priests. This time he stole another sip, wiped the chalice and handed it off.

As her dad and I walked into the reception following the ceremony one of the young priests, Father Ted, approached us. "You should be ashamed of yourselves," he admonished us. We froze, turning more and more pale with every micro second that he stared at us. "I thought he was going to put the chalice aside and start chugging the bottle!" Father Ted continued. I'd gotten away with one. Whew!

Bookstores As Meeting Places For Those Addicted To Text, Vol I

At Landolulu in the comments, Lulu suggested that a support group was needed for those of us who need to start 26 books simultaneously. She suggested we meet at a bookstore to discuss. Lulu, I'm in.

Although, I have to ask why it is that we feel compelled to go the bookstore route. Libraries can give us these books for free. And, yet, I never go to the library. Is it the lack of commitment to any one title? The library-imposed, artificial deadline for completion (If I check out six books can I honestly be expected to complete them in two weeks?)??? Try completing Ulysses in two weeks...sheesh...

Maybe that's the antidote to our addiction...the library... They need to start putting coffee shops in libraries. I'd definitely be in at that point. Oh, and they need to redesign the layout of the library. I want to walk in and find tables featuring different genres - a chick lit table, sports/athletics, non-fiction, really fiction (this is the Ann Coulter/Bill O'Reilly table). I want to be able to check out a doodad like some fancy bookmark that will look stupid in a year or so. And I want to be able to look at board games for cultural elitists (No Homer Simpson Operation for me, please. I'd like to see Cranium, thank you, even though I've never played it. It's ambience, people. Ambience.)

One more thing, I suggest that libraries stop calling them "Library Cards"... we should start calling them *Bibliophile Rewards Cards*. And I better get at least one fucking email newsletter a week or I start to get really fucking pissy!

So, who's in?

On Balloon Animal Makers, Vol II

Well, boys and girls, it seems once again, Echo has stepped in it. Sure, I accidentally dissed a Canadian (Dale of Passion Of The Dale) but then it turns out it was really Germans I was dissing. (As a part German, I'm allowed to do that, right?) And, sure, I've suffered from a lack of political correctness during the run of this blog. But, yesterday, I alienated a significant portion (one half) of my readership when I dissed the Balloon Animal Maker who happened upon my ignorance.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Echo. Why on earth would you go and alienate the powerful balloon animal making lobby? I am as perplexed by my behaviour as you are. (For all of my American reader, behaviour is English for behavior, you poor ignorant bastard...) I can tell you it was not intentional.

To make amends, I'd like to extend an olive branch by asking the Balloon Animal Man to provide us answers to some of our questions and in doing so help us to increase the peace through diversity and an understanding of those that might offer a different perspective.

To that end, I would like to pose the following questions in hopes that we might build a bridge here today. What is the appropriate tip for a balloon animal maker who produces...say, a Monkey and a Butterfly for two hysterically happy children? (Save my ass, Balloon Animal Man, and say that it's FIVE bucks or more!! I'll tell you more about it later.) What is the most difficult figure to build? Is there an East Coast/West Coast thing going on in the Balloon Animal Making community? And what are you doing to stem the rising tide of Balloon Animal Maker on Clown crime wave that's sweeping the nation? What is the history of Balloon Animal Making?

Unofficial Terms, Vol VII (V is still in the works): "Blucks"

If you're like me, sometimes you need a word to convey two emotions at once. Why should I be forced to utter two sentences when one would suffice? Hence, we at The Unofficial are proud to present to you the latest Unofficial Term: Blucks.

When I heard that the GOP was protecting us from terrorists hell bent on turning peroxide and Gatorade into a deadly mix of...shitty tasting Gatorade, I thought to myself, Man, that really sucks. Yeah. That really fucking blows. Who'd want to do that to Gatorade? I love Berry-Citrus and Mango flavors. Why can't I get those flavors at my local supermarket. Hmmm....

That's alot of words, wouldn't you say? Now, try this on for size. Man, that really *blucks*! (Snark Markers used for emphasis as an homage to Ulu-lay) Why are those terrorists always trying to fuck with my Gatorade?!

I don't know about you, but by combining *blows* and *sucks*, I've shortened my response and in the process saved myself time. Time I can use to go purchase duct tape for my doors and windows and to help stop the spread of liberal *hate* values like *peace* and *love* everywhere.

BLOW MONKEYS!!!!!

THE BLOW MONKEYS-This is Your Life

An uplifting theme song about the balloon animal man and how he is striving to better himself.

On Balloon Animal Makers, Vol I

On the first day of our vacation, we went to a Friday's for *dinner*. One of the high points of this Friday's was the *balloon man* walking around and making balloon animals for all of the kids. (Read: Making balloon animals for the kids until you paid him to go away.)

Now, I happen to think it's great that we are a world with many, varied, talented peoples...but I gotta wonder...

Do you think the Balloon Man gets laid? A lot? A little? Do balloon men get married? Is Rennaisance Faire experience helpful in the career of a Balloon Man? What's the career path for a Balloon Man? Is Balloon Man the first step toward Scary Clown? I have to ask. I've never seen an intoxicated, belligerent, expletive-spewing Balloon Man...but I can't say the same for the scary clown.

So, consider this a scientific study wherein we attempt to divine the genesis of the animal balloon maker and find its place in the evolutionary path of the clown, carnie, juggler, and mime. We need to define the species and class. We need to give them a cool name... Balloonasaurus Clownorcarnie-us, anyone??

Thoughts? Suggestions? Pantomime?

The Best Things That Have Ever Happened To Me, Vol. VII

When: Today

What: Grant Miller wrote a letter to Vivid Entertainment complaining about one of their adult dvd titles. Apparently, Grant did not feel that the talent lived up to their potential and as a weasly, porn-purchasing consumer was determined to get his money back or at least get a title that the performers lived up to. I thought I knew the definition of "rimming" (note: this is not snark, hence the absence of *snark markers*!!!) Due to [Redacted]'s letter, I forced myself to look up the actual definition of "rimming". This is what I found at Urban Dictionary:

Term used to describe the so-called "special relationship" between the United Kingdom and the United States of America.

Implies that while one part is basically happily eating shit, the other part is receiving.

The late Tony Bliar is in favor of rimming

A majority of Brits are in favor of rimming

See, I didn't know that. And I bet you didn't either! That's why this is one of the best things to ever happen to me. Who says you can't learn anything over at The Unofficial???

My Tattoo Desires Are Officially Over...For Now, Vol I

Do I really need to comment? Holy shit. Ten bucks says this tattoo does not belong to a Norwegian. Shitty movies make shitty tattoos. This person is obviously Canadian.

For more bad tattoos visit Really Bad Tattoos... BTW, I have nothing against Canadians, I just couldn't come up with a punch line that made less sense and made me laugh more.

UPDATE: I took an unfair shot at Canadians in this post, and that was a fucked up thing to do. I make no excuses. Anyone can tell that back belongs to a German!

What Part Of "You're Not Riding" Don't You Get, Muthafucker? Vol I

I hate imprecise language. Take the title of last night's post on the geographically challenged. As soon as I posted it, I felt I should change it. Rather than make the change, I allowed laziness to get the best of me. For the last 24 hrs my language-obsessed, bad self has been stewing. It would take nothing to change it, but then I do not employ an editor and sometimes these things happen.

Now, I like to think that when someone is put in charge of providing verbiage for signs that provide direction that they have an editor or at least the good sense to think about what they wrote. Take this tidbit from the sign outside the Soarin' ride at Epcot. (Fantastic 5 minutes of fun if you ask me, btw). We'll look at another sample from this sign tomorrow. Right now let's focus on the height requirement, shall we?

"Persons who do not meet the minimum height requirement may not ride."

Then again, they may. I mean, really, people. What I'm saying is that you need to be a certain height to enjoy this thrill ride we've provided you. Of course, who are we to dictate what you should and shouldn't do considering that we don't allow Federal or State inspectors at our parks? So, we'll just say that you may not ride.

Now, if I asked Disney, "May I ride?", then they might reply "You may not." Since no one asked, the tone of their sign is... well, ambiguous.

A more appropriate statement may have been: "Persons who do not meet the minimum height requirements will not be allowed to partake in the enjoyment of the Soarin' ride."



Or if Samuel L. Jackson wrote the sign: "Now, what I need you to acknowledge here is that if you don't meet the minimum fucking height requirements, we are not going to allow your ass anywhere near our motherfucking ride. Now, am I clear?"

I think Samuel L. Jackson should write all amusement park ride signs. He leaves very little ambiguity and I feel compelled to listen to him...

Oops! I Toked It Again, Vol I

Britney Spears, Puff, Puff, Pass
Who among us has not believed in time travel while under the influence of some mind altering substance?

Magical Moments At The Magic Kingdom, Vol I - It's A Small World (But If You Owned An Atlas, You Wouldn't Be So Fucking Stupid)

The Setting: It's A Small World Ride at Walt Disney World's Magic Kingdom

So, there I am with my child who is pointing out all kinds of interesting facts about the Taj Mahal, can name several countries in the neighborhood of Norway, and can locate on a globe any country you can think of including tiny island nations. Twice on this ride I had to *talk over* the young one who launched into a *WTF did she just say??* tirade about the woman sitting behind us whom we will refer to as Main Offender. What sparked my kid to want to tear someone's head off?

Upon seeing the dancing penguins, Main Offender's kid says, "Mom, is this the Arctic or Antarctic?" Main Offender responds: "Oh, honey, they're penguins! It's Alaska, of course. What are they teaching you in school??"

Oy. Maybe a joke? Nah.

A little later in the ride, in fact, the second to last display if you count the room with the multi-national good-byes, we come upon another wintry scene. Main Offender: "Look, this is a really cold country. This must be Serbia."

Okay. Serbia, Siberia....close. But that's a "Holy fuck, did I say that out loud?" moment.

When passing through *Italy* (For those of you scoring at home, that's the fourth use of snark markers in posts today!) Main Offender responded to her kids asking which country they were looking at (I guess the Venetian theme was lost on her and all brownish skin people look alike.) Main Offender: "It's Mexico or Nicaragua or something."

Or something, indeed!

And Now The Djibouti National Anthem...

KC & The Sunshine Band - Shake Your Booty

Who says you can't learn anything at The Unofficial??

Do You Know All The Countries Of The World?

animaniacs_sing_all_the_countries

Okay, Lulu, I think it's great that you've kicked it really old school with the School House Rock, but here's one that the kids love even ten years later. It's not so old school, but then it's not brand spanking new either...

Spectral Nudity, Vol I

Why is it that whenever people present *evidence* of spectral activity, the ghosts are always clothed? If you died in the 1800s, does this mean your sense of style died with you? Just once I'd like to see a ghost of someone who died in the 1500s show up wearing a nice Armani suit. I mean, really. If you died in the 80s, can we expect you to show up as a Z. Cavaricci Parachute Pants wearing bundle of ghostly energy? Aren't we allowed to undo the mistakes of the past? Shouldn't Vanilla Ice be allowed to come back as Rob Van Winkle instead of some white parody of hip hop culture? Shouldn't we allow the ghost of John F. Kennedy to come back sporting some FUBU wear and maybe a little bling? He was a president afterall.

If we do turn into ghosts when we die, you can bet your ass I'm coming back naked. Photograph this, freaks!

Ooops.

Uh, yeah, so we brought back some friends from Lulupalooza last night and, well, things got a bit out of hand. Sorry.

Gone to Lulupalooza

Sorry, but we are spending the weekend at Lulupalooza. You can come back here and crash at night if you need to.

Signed,
The Management

Postcards From Echo

Dearest Ones,
I have had an emotional day to say the least. Today was Female Solo Artist Day. I feel I have had an emotional epiphany. For years I have tried to hide my feminine side with smartass comments and my "too-cool-for-thou" attitude. But about half way into today's videos, I felt a tugging at my soul. A little voice saying, "Echo, it's OK to let go. Let those feelings out."

And so, in a moment of reckless abandon, I unleashed the feelings I'd held captive for so long. I cried the tears of a man whose life has been an emotional sham. I cried the tears of so many years of swallowing my true feelings. Please let me share with you the song that just touched my soul. Cry with me.



*Hugs*

Echo

A Message From Jim- Vol. III

Dear Echo,
I've been practicing a face melting solo just for you. Really, it's been quite fun to have a project. Please don't stand too far back in the crowd, or my cord won't reach. I hope you will finally be pleased with this effort. October is right around the corner! I look forward to seeing you again.

Sincerely,
Jim

Echo's Girls

Hiya. We met Echo yesterday (he was an awesome tipper and looked so cute stripped down to his boxers dancing on the table). He said it would be OK if we came back to his place and crashed for a few days until he got back. Guido has been working us so hard and we needed a little break. Hope you don't mind, but we've put up a pole in the living room 'cuz we have to practice. Does anyone around here know how to make a good daiquiri? We sure do work up a thirst stripping. Hey sit back, and enjoy the show!

Postcards From Echo

Hey gang,

Wow. What a gruelling day. I think we must have seen about 100 videos. The neon, the mousse, the leg-warmers....my head is still swimming. On the bright side, Huey Lewis and Bryan Adams pretty much owned the day. It was nice to reflect on all the happy times I've spent listening to Huey. CP, you would have enjoyed it too! For you, Ten S, there was a little Hall and Oates, and not to forget some Laura Branigan for Lulu.

I'm a little concerned, tomorrow is Hair Metal day. I don't know if I'm up for all the lycra and hairspray. I'm trying to focus on the fact that there'll be plenty of hot chicks in the videos. They're going to have a keg tomorrow to get us in the mood and we may take a fieldtrip to a strip joint. Aaaaaaaooooooooo!!!!!

This Grant guy is turning out to be a real pain in the ass. He makes the most inane comments during class and asks the dumbest questions. Even worse, he snores at night and hogs the bathroom we have to share. I'll be glad to go back home when this week is over. I'm hanging in there so far. I kind of have a headache, but I think I'll be OK. I'm a little concerned that we are only allowed to send mail out. It does seem a bit odd. Well, back to class!

*Hugs*

Echo

Can anyone see Echo?

I heard he was touring again with the band.