MOTHRA STEWART!

Am I The Only One Who Missed This?

The president of Nigeria is named Goodluck motherfuckin' Jonathan!?! The dude's got my vote any day. Hanging out with babes on the reg? being named Goodluck? Running against some fool named Atiku Abubakar in an upcoming election? Mr. Jonathan is allllll set.

Also, just in case you were wondering which candidate is the forerunner when it comes to superior headwear style, Jonathan is the clear winner. Look at Mr. Funnyhat here:

What a fucking joker.

Also, here are my predictions regarding future Nigerian presidents:

2015: Highfive Eugene

2019: Bachelorparty Dennis

2023: Orgasmatron Steve

2027: Winninglotteryticket Brian

2031: Goodluck Jonathan (re-elected)

Things I Like: Strong Names

These six gents all have something in common. And my guess is that, what with being named "Lowell" and all, none of them are aware of the internet meme homophonous with their shared moniker.

Things I Like: Smoking

Things I don't like: quitting smoking.

Friends, I am an imperfect man. I use the lord's name in vain, I don't particularly care for the Chinese, and I smoke cigarettes. Lots of them. Not gonna lie - my first cigarette upon waking is perhaps the highlight of my day. But when your day is all downhill from the start, you know that something needs to change. As a result, I am in the process of quitting smoking. Haven't seen me in a day or two? That's because I am in self-imposed exile while the demon exorcizes itself from my lungs' brain.

Here are some of the experiences I've had while experiencing withdrawal:

1) Desire to smoke

2) That's all

BTW, can I bum a Camel?

Things I Like: Diversity

Curious about the life of actress and comedian Whoopie Goldberg, I started to type her name into Google. I got as far as "Whoop", and the above list of suggestions popped up. Who knew that five simple letters could lead a searcher to information about disease, pastries, birds, and Tag Team's 1993 dance floor hit. What a surprisingly diverse revisiting of childhood delights!

Things I Like: Artistic Responsibility

Folks, sometimes it helps to think to life as an indifferent lottery. When it comes to looks, most of us fall somewhere near the middle of the spectrum: not supermodels, but not Swamp Things, either. This young woman lost the lottery. She looks like a wax sculpture of a lesbian gym teacher who was left in the sun too long and shrank into a squat troll. Her facial expression is appropriate, given her shitty, shitty luck.

But I must express my gratitude to this caricaturist who, despite what I'm sure is a natural tendency to glamorize his subjects, chose instead to take the moral high road by drawing an accurate rendering of this really, really unpleasant looking child. What is true art if not an expression of humanity's honest experience of the world?

Things I Like: The Free Market

Years and years of racial discourse have resulted in the constant deference to sensitivity when dealing with issues of inequality. Should these dolls all cost the same price? Maybe if Walmart took a tip from Affirmative Action legislation. But, thanks to the good old free market forces of supply and demand, these dolls have been priced according to their desirability by the doll-buying public. Thank you, free market, for restoring a bit of equality to the way small, plastic humanoids are ranked.

Things I Like

After a summer of hibernation, this stupid blog is back! I've decided to ease my return to the blogosphere by focusing on the positive things in my life. I am thus officially unveiling a subset of 413some called "Things I Like". Simple, short, and very, very sweet. Here goes...

Things I Like: Creative Problem Solving:

Ok, so Maggie was inconsiderate enough to drop dead right before her birthday party. Poor form, Maggie! Especially after everyone at the Eagles Club chipped in for that epic ice cream cake with custom lettering and everything. But at least her pals were crafty enough to put those multi-colored streamers and Dixie cups full of Kaopectate to work. And look at how masterfully they updated her birthday poster. Waste not, want not. That's what I always say.

Baddest Ass Headline I've Seen In A While

Phoning It In...

Ever since Sandra Bullock won an Oscar, the rules of the humor universe have been unraveling. In the melee, I've been confused and distracted. So, until the universal order is restored, here is another hastily thrown-together group of photos I like.

Ya Know What's A Funny Word?

Chatroulette!

Do you know what Chatroulette is? I do! Check it -->

Chatroulette! from Andrew Flint on Vimeo.

BAM!

French Onion Soup Review: The Olde Forge Restaurant

Ah, the Olde Forge. It's where Berkshires residents go when they want to forget that they live in "America's Premier Cultural Resort", and pretend that they just got back from hunting elk and queers in the mountains of one of the fly-over states.


Some would call the establishment "rustic" and others might refer to it as "homey", but I tend to think of it as "that place with good wings where I'll probably get beat up someday". Let's see what some other patrons have had to say about the Lanesboro staple on the review site Yelp.com:


Well, Melissa S. from New York, NY, you're clearly a weirdo. Why would you try to date barbecue ribs? They're not going to give you the emotional support you need. Remember what your therapist said, Melissa. Food is not love. And besides, 413some is only concerned with one item on the Olde Forge's menu, and that item is French onion soup. Let's see how it goes...


I must say that the cheese portion atop the crock of soup was quite generous, and was baked to a perfect crust. Topped with spices and cascading over the sides, this toadstool of glop looked quite appetizing, especially when accompanied by a gin martini. It should be noted that the Olde Forge is renowned for its wide beer selection and mug club. But, in order to hold on to the last remaining shred of my personal identity as I resigned myself to this anachronistic hunting lodge, I had to order a very, very gay drink. That being said, the lightness of the gin gracefully acquiesced to the heaviness of the soup. It was a wise combination. And the pleasures didn't stop at the top of cheese mountain. As I broke the surface and delved into the steaming broth below, my gullet was sated spoonful after greasy spoonful. Now, this is not to say that the soup was exquisite. It could have been a bit more flavorful, and certainly would have benefited from a larger portion of onions. But, for its modest price, it was a pretty darn good bowl of French onion soup. But, before I officially rate the soup, I must address the issue of the drunken waitress.



I admit that the video above does not depict the actual waitress who served me at the Olde Forge, but it might as well have been. She was already stumbling as she took our orders, and spilled about half of my martini on the table before it reached my hand. By the time we paid the check, she was literally slurring her words and kept repeating how much she liked us. Homegirl knew how to party.

So in conclusion, I deem the French onion soup pretty good, especially considering the level of intoxication of the establishment's employees. Since the front-of-house staff was drunk enough to douse a customer in gin and not bat an eye, one can only speculate as to how many milligrams of Oxy Contin the kitchen staff had railed. But they still managed to get all that soup into the crock, which somehow made its way to my table successfully. Well played.

Final soup review: 7 out of 10 drunk driving victims.

I Blame The Schools

Yup. This about says it all. According to Metro.co.uk, snake owner Sho Lau claims that Po, "...is very tame and one day when I threw a cigarette butt away he went for it and seemed to enjoy having it in his mouth...One thing led to another and before long he was having one cigarette in the morning and another at night...He gets very agitated if I don't have any to spare."

Listen, I don't care if this snake likes to suck one down in the morning. I really don't. But I'm a tad uncomfortable about the trend that this might spark amongst other pets. I, for example, live with a cat. Her name is Girlie and she is an asshole. The last thing I need is for her to start sneaking swigs of my whiskey. It's not like she finds me smoking her catnip. And (true story), we once owned a timid little cat named Guy. His vet prescribed him uppers in an attempt to boost his se;f-defense tendencies. After the company that made the drug was involved in a price gouging scandal, Guy was involved in a class-action lawsuit. He won. We got $200. So clearly there are benefits to letting our animals party as hard as we do. We need well-defined rules in order to weight the pros and cons of this murky subject. For example, what exactly is one to do if they catch their dog raiding their weed stash? You can't very well rub his nose in it. Good thing these scientists are addressing the issue:



Absolute best quote from this video: "Given THC, the active ingredient in marijuana, the spider didn't built a web. It built a hammock, where it lay all day and watched the caffeine spider go."

Q: Why Did The Cat Cross The Road?

A: To fucking die.


Catch a load of this crap: Casper the cat, who lived in Devon, England, walked onto the same bus every day from 2005 until yesterday. The precocious little chap became something of a local celebrity, and was beloved by the whole community. But then he decided to kill himself right in front of everyone.


You'd think that after five years of hopping on the same bus every day, Casper knew exactly what was up when it came to dodging traffic. He's with Hemingway, Cobain, Hitler, and all those Jonestown folks now.

Dear David Bowie...

How is it that, after being arrested for possession of weed in Rochester, NY, you looked like a fucking Versaci model with a post-blowjob glow? I mean, look at that hair. Not a single one out of place! Did the Rochester Police Department have a stylist and fluffer on staff?



I have a bunch of friends who have been arrested for weed. They don't look like recently fellated models. They look like jaundiced Phish roadies. Mr. Bowie, WHAT'S YOUR SECRET!?!

The Maya Were Right!

For thousands of years the universe was in harmony. But in 2012, as foretold by our South American pals, Alec Baldwin will cosmically ascend out of the field of acting. Suicide pact, anyone?

A Whole Lot More?

When I was young and apparently had a touch of the Downs, Denver the Last Dinosaur was one of my favorite cartoons. Watch this right now:



The show gets a million points for the fucking faceripping theme song, but also suffers some demerits for the songs lyrical content. I'm specifically referring to the refrain, "Denver the last dinosaur, he's my friend and a whole lot more." See how I italicized and emboldened those five words? It's because, when I think about what it means to be "a whole lot more than friends" with someone, I picture sexual penetration. Denver was clearly giving these rad boys the ol' Time Travelin' Repto-Cornhole. Do you think that this complex childhood imprinting is what caused me to experience a turgid erection throughout the entire 129 minutes of The Lost World: Jurassic Park? I swear to god that Parasaurolophus was eyeing me the whole time.