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Ruh Roh! [22 Oct 2006|01:00pm] This post actually lives over here. Please leave your comments there as well. Typode? Typode! I’ll make a new site soon that isn’t a forum.

Untitled Porn Screenplay [23 Jun 2006|08:11pm] This post actually lives over here. Please leave your comments there as well. FADE IN: INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT A well-lit hotel room in San Antonio. We see JESSICA from behind, presenting her vagina to KEVIN. Jazz music plays in the background. They begin to make love. JESSICA (moaning and panting, as if about to climax) Ooohh baby, you’re gonna make me cum! There is silence as KEVIN considers his response. KEVIN That’s… what I’m trying to do. The pace of their love begins to slow down. KEVIN I’m going to cum, too, probably. FADE OUT: THE END

Yum Yum [29 May 2006|01:04am] This post actually lives over here. Please leave your comments there as well. This is completely crap, but I like it. I was fucking around with ArtPad and discovered that you can almost make actual movies with it. It’s like, MS Paint Cinema! Set the speed to “fast” from the start. The text speed will still be slower, sadly.

Who is by the Pumps? [27 May 2006|01:19am] This post actually lives over here. Please leave your comments there as well. When you say “a couple,” I’m thinking two. Three people do not compose a couple, that would be “a few” people, and this can be a very important difference. It really bothers me when I am given an inaccurate idea of the situation I am walking into, so this needs to stop. For example, if you worked in a gas station and there was a man out by the pumps smoking a cigarette, you would say just that: “there is a man out by the pumps smoking a cigarette.” But if more and more cigarette-smoking men arrived as the day went on, what would you tell your supervisor to ensure that he took appropriate action? Two Cigarette-Smoking Men: “There are a couple of guys smoking cigarettes by the pumps.” Somebody would immediately be sent out to inform them of the danger they were in, and they would no doubt move away, glad to be enlightened. If you had been told that a few people were smoking by the pumps, your reaction might be over the top and cause the men to become stubborn and defy you, likely causing an explosion that would take out several city blocks. Three or Four Cigarette-Smoking Men: “There are a few guys smoking cigarettes by the pumps.” In this case it would be wise to carry a broom with you in case the men needed shooing, which of course is obvious when you know that there are a few men involved. However, if you had been told to expect a couple guys, you would be unarmed and overwhelmed, and they would never respect your wishes. Five to Twelve Cigarette-Smoking Men: “There are a bunch of guys smoking cigarettes by the pumps.” With a bunch of guys, you may need a megaphone, or something loud to bang on to get their attention. Again, if it turned out that it was really only a few men by the pumps this would be overkill, they would get rightfully pissed off with all the noise you were making, and nobody would hesitate to join them in verbally abusing you until you gave up and let them explode your place of business. Greater than Thirteen Cigarette-Smoking Men: “There is a virtual smorgasbord of individuals out by the pumps, and they are smoking cigarettes.” Get out the hose, and don’t be afraid to wield a shotgun for effect. Two things worth noting here: you would say individuals instead of men, because thirteen individuals are too many to identify in a state of panic. Also, notice that in this scenario we mention that they are smoking cigarettes almost as an afterthought, because the fact that there are so many people standing around the pumps would be problem enough already. Honestly, I don’t care about your gas station or whether or not it explodes, but if the whole situation could have been avoided if not for some idiot who didn’t know how to properly proclaim the approximate number of people by the pumps, that is simply unacceptable.

I <3 Meris [26 May 2006|11:13am] This post actually lives over here. Please leave your comments there as well. The small black figure in front of the large white figure is Meris waving an umbrella at me from Paris, thanks to some random webcam a half hour from where she’s staying.

Throw Up Your Chops! [23 May 2006|06:41pm] This post actually lives over here. Please leave your comments there as well. This is a new game that Kim and I have invented for power outages, camping trips, and days when getting out of bed seems way too fricken hard. It’s called Throw Up Your Chops! Instructions: Throw up your chops! As in, raise your hand as if you were about to strike your friend with a Karate chop. Hold your fingertip to theirs and count down from 3, at the end exclaiming, “CHOP SUEY, BITCH!” or something similarly chop-related. The battle now begins. Poke the opposing Chop. With the tip of your chop, attempt to strike the other player in the front or back of their hand (or, chop). Strangely, you don’t want to chop their chop, just stick with the poking. Eventually, the laughter caused by constantly arguing and referring to your hand as a “chop” will induce vomitting in one of the players. This is the Throw Up part of the game, and it means that you have lost. Rules: You must poke, not chop the opposition. Poke the chop in the front or back, between the wrist and first knuckle. This is the “yes chop zone“ When the tip of your chop meets the opposing chop-tip, a point is scored for neither player. This is called a “faux chop no“, and both players must say it. Try not to invent any more rules of your own, as a lot of the fun comes from arguing about chops. Not only does this pass the time well, but it’s really the best way to settle any dispute. Forget all of the games you knew in your childhood, this is the one your kids should be playing, and you must master it to teach them. Go on, find a partner and Throw Up Your Chops!

The Power of Exclamation Points [19 May 2006|12:59pm] This post actually lives over here. Please leave your comments there as well. One of my favorite things to do is to open up an instant messaging client, pick a random screenname, and slowly convince that person to block me. I get a kick out of it because I’m stupid. I really like the idea of there being hundreds of people in the world who hate me. It makes me feel important. However, every so often I do like to talk to somebody who likes me. Christoph: It’s Alex! Alex K: Hello! How are you?! Awwww Alex! Every time she shows up online it makes me a very happy person. Not for any good reason at all — though she’s a great kid with cool tattoos — but simply because she puts an exclamation point after the word “hello”. She always does, and it makes me want to give her exclamation points in return, which has resulted in us becoming very good friends over the years. Few people learn to properly harness the power of exclamation points. Some are too cynical and ubercool, while others often abuse and cheapen them. They have to be used in moderation, but no less used. Christoph: Hello Ruca! Ruca: hi Christoph: Good morning! Ruca: good morning to you! She was able to resist the first assault, but notice how after my second exclamation point she simply could not control the happiness that filled her? She reciprocated even though it was totally out of character! This is the power of exclamation points. Use it wisely!

Tales from the Sev [18 May 2006|07:59pm] This post actually lives over here. Please leave your comments there as well. The clerk at my 7-Eleven always asks stupid questions about whatever I’m buying. For example, the other day I picked up three boxes of macaroni (because that’s what Canadians eat) and while I was paying for them he said, quote: “So, how much macaroni are you going to make?” What? I don’t know, sir, maybe something like three boxes. Aside from it not really being the guy’s business, that’s just the stupidest question he could have possibly asked. I guess I could go and buy more macaroni at another store, or maybe I already had some at home, but I’m reasonably certain that he was asking about the macaroni I was buying from him then. I didn’t know how to answer him without being a dick about it, so I just smiled. “Like a lot of macaroni I bet. Right?” Perhaps we should weigh it? I don’t have the necessary equipment at home, so how about we meet up after your shift and take the macaroni over to your place to conduct some science? While I’m eating you can weigh your face, and then I’ll shit in your mouth and we’ll see what the difference is. Deal? He doesn’t always ask questions, sometimes he just makes an observation about the product you’ve presented him with. He once commented that my Slurpee was “really big,” because I guess he had never seen anybody buy that size before. I know for sure he’s never been close enough to the Slurpee machines to clean them, so it’s possible that he hasn’t noticed the cups. And just like that, I need a Slurpee. I started drinking a cup a day for an “important study” on Random Salad, but I hit my goal a long time ago and now I can’t stop myself from drinking these things almost daily. They’re worse than crack. Now, off to my dealer I go.

This is a Broadcast [17 May 2006|09:57pm] This post actually lives over here. Please leave your comments there as well. I thought about it, and came up with the number 31. That is approximately the number of first posts I’ve written for websites. There have been many e/n sites and journals, and 31 times now I have struggled to introduce them. However, this will be my first weblog. That’s fucking weird, man. How have I not done this before? I feel like there should have been at least one, but if there was I can’t think of it. I’ve been too busy building machines to tickle the bras off of women. Since I’ve never done this before, I’m not clear on exactly what I’m supposed to introduce. Normally I would describe the key features of the site and hint at a few things I was planning, but I don’t think weblogs have features or plans. If I’m not mistaken, the expectation here is that I’m going to describe myself, but that just ain’t gonna happen, ’cause I’m lazy and can’t be fucked to think of something nice to say. One thing you already know is that I’m a writer. I guess everybody is a writer these days, but since I’ve got way too much time on my hands I output more than they do and people seem to mistake that for talent. I probably spend more time writing articles than reading them, and if I’m not doing one of the two it probably means I’ve gone and died on you. I’m a big fan of the stream-of-consciousness style of writing, as has been made evident by this post. I never used to write any other way, but on Random Salad I’ve taken to speaking to an audience, rather than simply talking to myself. It’s more difficult in a sense because you have to keep things coherent, but it’s a lot easier to be funny because I can make myself into the heel of more jokes. I like writing lazy, disjointed entries though, so that’s what I’ll do here, I guess. Hey, check me out, I accidentally described my weblog! Sort of, anyway. You know what the best thing about a blog is? Nobody really cares if you come up with a way to end your post.

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