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 Sunday, December 30, 2001

Lack Of Updates -- Sharkey @ 1:56 pm
Sorry about the silence here on the main page, I suppose this is what I get for going away for a few days.

Where have I been, you ask? I took a long trip to Drunktown, with a few jaunts over to Randomnudityville. Swank little spots, I highly reccommend you take a journey through them yourself. Especially considering it's nearly New Years Eve.

Haven't got much time, so I'll leave you with this little bit of e-mail love. Have fun.

From: SMGlvr32@aol.com
Subject: ........

what are u getting at with this website? is it just your ignorant, immature way of trying to get people to think your funny?

I'd just like to point out that all of the sudden I'm getting tips on maturity from someone who loves Sarah Michelle Gellar so much he has to express it in his e-mail address. Thanks for reminding me how much I don't miss Jr. High. And for the record, I don't respond well to being called ignorant by someone who substitutes "you" with "u", and does it from an AOL account. Happy New Years.

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 Thursday, December 27, 2001

Christmas Spite -- Sharkey @ 12:53 pm
Now that the holidays are over, it's time to get out of Chrismas spite mode and back into uh... regular spite mode. There's not much of a difference, except that Christmas spite usually involves the upsetting of friends and relatives through obscene holiday apparel or god-awful gag gifts.

This year, I utilized the mighty BAMF stuff *shameless plug* to brighten a few people's holiday moods. I was told that my BAMF Christmas ornaments would not be allowed on a friend's Christmas tree, because his girlfriend wouldn't have it. This, of course, caused me to actually order the damn things so that they could be spitefully placed in prominent positions on the tree. That's what I call "loving spite." The kind of spite only reserved for your good and loyal friends.

Of course, this brings us to family spite, which is where actual spitey spiteness comes into play. I had just received a fucking swank-ass BAMF shirt on Chrismas morning, and figured that I've kept the secret of this website long enough, and besides, the pie girls on the back would be a good conversation starter with my bible-thumping aunt. This is the same woman who got into an argument with my stepmom when they gave me Unreal Tournament, stating that they shouldn't "allow" me (a grown man, or something similar) to play the game. The same woman who doesn't allow her 21-year-old son to drink in her presence, and seems to have an unnatural fear of drinking from plastic cups. But then, Christmas just isn't as fun without hearing her tirades about drug abuse or why we're such a terrible family because we enjoy reading books and playing video games rather than sitting around a couch bullshitting about our stupid lives. Apparently being a good family means sitting in uncomfortable silence and pretending that you will actually enjoy this "365 Days Of Kittens" desk calendar. Sorry kids, but I smell a trip to the Wal-Mart returns counter coming on.

Speaking of which, I went to the ol' Wal-Mart yesterday to try and get a PS2 memory card. I didn't even know that we had one in South Orange County (read: utopian white/asian suburbia) until last week. Somehow the white/yellow/brown trash of our more arid regions have migrated to this one store in order to show off their fine mullet-cuts and low-slung halter tops on some of the fattest women this side of Harry Knowles' family reunions. Of course, the shelves were all picked clean. Although while waiting for the clerk to check the back room, I met a charming fellow named Ray who was waiting to see if they had "them's Deer Huntin' Sim-yoo-laters" in the back room. Apparently they were all sold out of the title, so Ray was turned away. Big surprise.

Well, I'm off to lunch. I have learned my lesson and will steer far clear of the McDonalds within the bowels of the Wal-Mart down the street from work. No matter how slim the line looks, each one of those four people has a family of 18 accompanying them, and they're all fat enough to to serve as a moon to a small planet.

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 Wednesday, December 26, 2001

Tis The Season To Piss Off Your Relatives -- Sharkey @ 11:48 am
Well, another holiday season come and gone (unless you celebrate Kwanzaa, I guess) which means that floods of people will be headed into stores to return those pants that don't reflect your holiday waistline or that retarded sweater with the reindeer on it that Aunt Ethel thought would look so adorable on you.

Thankfully, I won't have time to fight with you jackholes, as I will be at home glued to the latest incarnation of digital viagra called Final Fantasy X. Hopefully they won't include something stupid in this game, like the mandatory card game in 9 or the entire goddamn storyline in 8. Never before FF8 did I more want to murder the folks who's digital identity I had assumed. Is it possible for the Japanese to come up with a main character who isn't a fucking crybaby? I seem to remember previous Final Fantasy games (like 3/6, for example) where the male lead didn't cry like Nancy Kerrigan with a bruised knee.

Speaking of reasons why I'm disturbed with the Japanese as of late, is this little news snippet which states that a whopping 141 teachers in Japan were arrested for molesting students. What the Hell is wrong with you people? We trust you with making all of our swank-ass high-tech gadgets and our economy automobiles, and you have to go and besmirch your record with things like this. For shame, Japan. For shame.

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 Monday, December 24, 2001

Christmas greeting from a long-lost staffer... -- KlfJoat @ 7:11 pm
Mooch says, "Merry Christmas, bastards."

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Bleh -- Merseian @ 11:48 am
Nothing better to calm the nerves and keep me from killing these annoying fuckers I work with.I dunno what it is this year, but I'm definately in the mood for Xmas....TO BE OVER. I live on the busiest side of the city and normally I don't mind the traffic in my neighborhood. During Christmas time though I leave work and once I get home I really don't want to leave. Mainly because of all the fucking idiots that can't drive for shit and should have they're licenses revoked. This time of year its worse though, the mall is literally 3 blocks from my apartment complex and all the other major stores are surrounding it. So I have to deal with all the holiday traffic. No big deal just gotta plan ahead to make up for the slowness of it all.

Add to the equation the light, white, fluffy stuff that falls from the skys called snow and you're putting your life at risk by leaving home. Even though we get snow for several months EACH FUCKING YEAR these idiots here STILL do not know how to drive in it. It snowed not even an inch the other day and I saw literally 20 accidents on the way to work. I'm sure there were a couple cellphone's involved during said accidents as well.

Oh well guess I should cheer up, it'll all be over soon. Plus I've been sitting here all day with a flask of Gentlman Jack that I brought in since hardly anyone would be here. So one of my coworkers and I have been drinking Jack n Cokes since about 9am, gave one of the interns here at work a sip out of the flask, laughed as she choked and spit it out, laughed again as she got pissed at me and tried to hit me for laughing at her.

Schweet they just told me I can leave @ 2pm.

So I guess I'll wish you fuckheads a merry christmas even though its insincere. Chachi I'll drink another Jack n coke in your honor as I say fuck you. =)

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 Sunday, December 23, 2001

Part Of Your Magically Delicious Breakfast -- Sharkey @ 3:35 am
So I suppose most of you have heard about the brouhaha surrounding the networks' decision to run liquor ads during late night TV. Apparently teenagers need advertisers to tell them to start underage drinking. Ignorant little bastards, I didn't need any pushing or shoving. I just needed booze and a couch to sleep on. But then, not all kids can be as *ahem* advanced as I was.

But anyways, I had an inspiration at the supermaret tonight, and I think it would solve not only the network's problems, but it would sell a lot of fuggin' hooch. And I can lay it all on the table for you with just one simple image:

The world needs a smooth malt beverage. It's time for the D to rise again, suckaz.

Come on, you know it'd sell. Colt 45 sales would skyrocket off your grocer's shelves and into the marketing history books yet again. You know that any impressionable 21-year-old shitbag (or underage kids with older brothers, for that matter) would run like the wind to buy something that Lando told them to buy. These ads would have it all: street-sensebility, smooth characters, insane amounts of nostalgia, and best of all, cheap booze. The little bastards are already buying Pabst Blue Ribbon® like they require it to breathe, why not let them support the company by purchasing their finest malt beverage instead?

I want those ads back on TV, they would help mend all of our social problems today. No need to even re-film the motherfuckers, just show the old 80's commercials. They'd probably sell better anyways. Now, if Gene Hackman would only hawk my Honey Bunches Of Oats®, I'd be the happiest consumer alive.

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 Friday, December 21, 2001

Last Minute Holiday Wish -- Sharkey @ 10:09 am
And for today's completely fucking useless invention, I give you Paolo Rais' complete waste of time known as the "Place-Switching Table".

Tired of boring Christmas lunch and dinner conversations? Interested in speaking to more people during round table business meetings? Swiss inventor Paolo Rais may have just the answer -- an 18-seater rectangular table with chairs that move so no one is trapped sitting opposite someone for too long.

"An electric motor drives two hidden chains: one hauls the chairs around while the other, beneath the wooden tabletop, pulls around wooden trays on which you place your food or documents," New Scientist magazine said on Wednesday.

See kids, this is why society needs conflict. Switzerland keeps the peace and sits all neutral with their clocks and the chocolate and shit, and then they go out of their goddamn minds. Next comes the Swiss plan for genetic purity through excessive inbreeding. I've seen it a hundred times.
"I've written to the British royal family, because such a table would be a great way for the queen to meet all her guests at banquets," said Rais, a civil engineer from Lugano.

"But I have had no reply," he added.

What a shocker.

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 Thursday, December 20, 2001

Coming at you fast and furious -- KlfJoat @ 6:06 pm
[ Study Aims to Help Male Cybersex Addicts ]
This is wrong. Calling cybersex an "addiction" in a way validates it. Smoking is addictive. Gambling is addictive. Caffiene is addictive. Drinking is addictive.
In this country, to call something addictive gives it validity. There's nothing valid about cybersex. It just means you're a fucking pitiful guy who can't get sex in real life. In other words, you're MichGldnLt.

Ho Ho *bang*
And you thought Ebenezer Scrooge and the Grinch were anti-Christmas?

[ Fla. Man Kills Mother in Accident ]
This here is what you call tragic irony. Thus ends our Understanding Literature lesson for the day, class.
(Props to 4um kiddie Eunuch for the link)

Santa has breasts, and not cause he's fat

Passers-by stared as a team of Peru's mostly female traffic police roared along on their bikes wearing red hats, false beards and fur trimmings on their knee-high boots.

"We're trying to spread a bit of optimism, that's what Christmas is all about," Hector Dulanto, head of the traffic police, told Reuters, as his Santas set out to distribute sweets to children at a local church.

Remind me to break the traffic laws of Peru. Trying to spread a bit of optimism? Sounds like you're trying to spread a little "Christmas cheer", if you know what I mean.

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A Little Love For The Engrish -- Sharkey @ 9:27 am
I usually just skim past my spam in the morning, but today I caught a glimpse of this little treasure. I just had to spread this piece of Christmas joy with all of you.

Merry Christmas!

If you don't have idea about Christmas gift, we give you best choose.

The synthetic crystal art glass, the interior is made to look like an image, In 3D!!! Made with New, Amazing, and Exciting. Junoesque. Elegance. Auspicious sign. Cheap. It is really best gift.

Click here:
http://gift.81832.com

Thanks.

Going against my better judgement, I decided to click on the link. What can I say, I'm a sucker for Engrish. Unfortunately, the link didn't work. So to all of my friends who were hoping that you'd get a junoesque, auspicious sign of a gift this year, I'm sorry to have to disappoint you. Although I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by what you find under the tree.

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 Wednesday, December 19, 2001

Heh -- KlfJoat @ 2:12 pm

SmartFilter has denied access to the URL http://www.badassmofo.com/. The site you requested matches the category; Extreme.
What can I say? We're extreme. It's better than being labeled "Hate Speech" like we used to be.

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Judge Cleo Has Spared Me -- Sharkey @ 11:46 am
Well, yesterday was my first trial appearance. Quite surprising actually, considering all the history that I have with the cops, documented and not. I dolled myself up for the judge with my slick shoes and a nice shirt, and stuffed a notepad & pen in my jacket to keep myself entertained. In a room filled with a whorde of sweaty, unwashed delinquents, it actually became necessary to write in order to keep my sanity. The following is a series of excerpts (at least, whatever I could decipher from my illegible scrawl) from my courtroom experience. Enjoy.

5:20PM - Quite a few more people than I had anticipated. If I'd known there would be this long of a wait, I would've brought a book. Every 5 minutes the bailiff grabs a clipboard and calls off a few names, signaling those people to shove off to another room. One woman didn't pay attention, so she approached the bench and asked for clarification. This prompted numerous women to approach and ask if they were supposed to be somewhere else. This has brought the clipboard/roll call to a complete halt. Thanks, ladies. In order to stave off the onslaught of morons, the court clerk has demanded that everybody sit down and wait until they are called upon.

5:33PM - Oh so fabulous. A mullet on an old man. No trip to the county court would be complete without it.

5:40PM - They let this really hot girl go, which drastically reduces the aesthetic value of the room, but one very cute chick remains. I wonder, what is the proper ettiquette involved in picking up girls in court? They must be somewhat vulnerable, and perhaps looking for a shoulder to cry on. Plus, you're both law breaking scoundrels, so you know you've got something in common.

5:48PM - As Mullet Man #1 makes his exit, Mullet Man #2 enters the room to take his place. There is balance in the cosmos.

5:57PM - Waiting to pay my fine. The judge let me off with barely any excuse. He actually chuckled when he read that I had come this far through the dregs of our legal system for the simple matter of a fix-it ticket. The fine is a whopping 10 dollars, which is supposedly some DMV fee. As I approached the bench, a smarmy lawyer type did the same. I was confused as to his purpose there, since I did all of the talking and he just stood there attempting to look snappy in his Men's Warehouse suit.

After I was done, he followed me out of the courtroom and it turns out that he was my lawyer. That, or he was testifying against me, you can never tell if these guys are on your side or not. Either way, I'd be intrigued to know if my hard-earned tax dollars went towards the purchase of that suit. If so, I'm going to try harder to cheat on my taxes next year. For all the work he did, we may as well give him some jean shorts and a barcalounger.

Did you actually read that? Congratulations, I figured if I took the time to write that drivel, you can take a minute to skim through it. I'd like to know when my penmanship took this horrible nose-dive. We spent years in elementary school learning to write with that lame-ass house system (letters as tall as the 1st floor, 2nd floor, roof & basement) and I turn out to have handwriting so unintelligible that even I can't read it. I flatter myself by transposing my notes into a font like Comic Sans MS. Wingdings would've been slightly more accurate.

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Too Late For A Clever Subject -- Sharkey @ 3:53 am
Court case has been dropped, Lord of the Rings has been watched, and I have exactly 2.5 hours of sleep prior to starting my Wednesday.

Tomorrow (today) will require copious amounts of caffeine. Expect a lot of angry ramblings, and probably a few slights towards the French and Canada.

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 Tuesday, December 18, 2001

Pikiman: Quite possibly the most racist game ever. -- PiratePete @ 9:10 pm
On the surface, the new game “Pikmin” for the Nintendo GameCube appears to be a cute little game featuring a space traveler who manipulates the easily susceptible natives into doing his bidding.

If you delve a little deeper into the game and look at it from a symbolic point of view, the sinister undertone becomes much clearer. There are three different varieties of pikmin: yellow, blue and red. Each “race” of pikmin has its own strengths and weaknesses. As you will see, the qualities each pikmin holds, and the story behind the game, create a striking resemblance of early American civilization.

Yellow pikmin are good with explosives and horrible at swimming. Obviously this pikmin is modeled after the Asians, who invented gunpowder and are often pegged with the stereotype that they can’t swim.

Blue pikmin are able to swim, but can easily be killed by fire. They also have a flower on their head, which is a sure sign that they are homosexuals.

Red pikmin are strong and can use fire. Their red skin is a direct reference to the Native American racial slur of “redskin,” and the use of fire could be symbolic of “fire water,” since alcoholism is stronger genetically in Native Americans.

The man who guides the pikmin and enslaves them is a man in a white spacesuit. It doesn’t take a genius to see where Nintendo was going with this one. The man in the “white” spacesuit is obviously meant to represent the white man.

At this point it seems like I’m overanalyzing the game a bit, but I haven’t even explained the premise behind the game. The story behind the game involves a man in a white spacesuit who crash lands his spaceship on a planet populated by pikmin. Immediately he figures out that the place is a hellhole and wants off. The only problem is that his ship is all screwed up and he needs to find some parts that got thrown all over the planet.

What is a guy to do? Oh yeah, enslave all the lesser races and get them to do it for you. Does this sound remotely familiar? To me it sounds like the foundation of the American colonies. Look at it this way: Columbus lands on North America, thinks he landed on India, and named Native Americans “Indians.” The white spaceman took a cue from Columbus and wasted no time in naming these poor souls “pikmin” after some candy bar or something. So then Mr. White Suit gets the pikmin to help him do crap because they weren’t as “advanced” or as well-dressed as him.

Look no further than the California gold rush or the First Industrial Revolution, they had Chinese immigrants doing tons of work for them. “Pikmin” for the Nintendo GameCube isn’t just a revolutionary game, it’s the first racism simulator.

Rating: ***** / *****

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The Trial Of Sharkey -- Sharkey @ 1:11 pm
You can cram this up yo excuses thucka, Judge Shaft don't want none of it!Trust me, this one will have far less drama than that other MoFo trial. I, unlike Raygun, keep my hands off of black men's chests.

I got a fix-it ticket in late July for not having my registration. Actually, I hadn't had my registration for numerous years, so feigning ignorance didn't save my ass in that situation. So August rolled around, and I got the new registration tags. Having previous experiences with fix-it tickets, due to my old car's penchant for destroying tail lights, I decided to drive down to the police station with my proof of insurance. I handed the nice officer my proof, and she signed the ticket. I asked "Am I done?", to which she replied "You are done." I apparently took this the wrong way, because I was far from done.

After a few months, they were doing the standard check at work so that I could get server room keys. The security agency found an outstanding Failure To Appear on my record. Great. Bolt Boy chastized me for not knowing that I had to go down to the court as well to get the ticket signed, but I shrugged it off. That guy hasn't had his registration paid up in all the time I've known him, so he must have an advanced knowledge of the legal proceedings involved.

So I went down to the courthouse, and they immediately shuffled me in front of a judge. I was, of course, not expecting this. I ended up pleading not guilty, and got a court date scheduled for this afternoon. Hooray.

My question is this: do I have any possible chance of making it out unscathed? I didn't know what to do in the first place, the officer told me I was done, I got the goddamn registration paid up in time, like they wanted. So now I face an FTA for a stupid fix-it ticket. I don't want another point on the ol' driving record, and I'd really rather not pay some lovely fine. Any tips would be greatly appreciated.

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Things To Do At Work Besides Sucking Up -- Sharkey @ 11:14 am
Well, I've done a lot of swearing at a little game called Power Drive, which is a golf swing simulator that requires no actual golf skills, which is good, cuz I'm about as talented a golfer as a special ed kid with broken legs. If you go there, my name is in the lil' "Today's Longest Drives" box. Not bad for three minutes worth of work, especially considering I'll never be able to do that again. Now I get to bask in the same glory as Jethro and that guy who types in all caps. Grand.

Next up is a Flash version of Super Monkey Ball, which is a fun game in console form, but an unholy frustration in web form. But you want to play anyway, you game whore. Click the link, and cry in pain.

And speaking of frustrating, why don't you give the incredibly funny yet poorly controlled Weezer Sumo-Fight a shot? That's right, terrible controls, but it's Weezer. It's worth it just to see the little animated Rivers in a Sumo diaper. Take that however you want, I'm going to try and beat that goddamn long drive contest.

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Is it just me, or does the cyclon look afraid? -- FaaQ @ 10:04 am

Jesus, that fat bastard looks like he wants to eat it.

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 Monday, December 17, 2001

I have arrived -- Orion @ 5:36 pm
I just got my new cable modem up and running. I moved into the new place yesterday and the modem was installed today. Gosh it feels good to be back. Well, not that I was gone for more than 24 hours...

Well, enough out of me, my other life calls me, and I must answer. Once I get unpacked more, and find that Weezer paper everyone wants to see, I'll scan it and post it. I mean it this time.

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Haven't They Even Watched The Movie Hackers? -- Sharkey @ 3:16 pm
For the last five days or so, I've been waiting for an admin password from another web hosting provider to log into this pre-fab e-commerce template site, so I can move a customer from their server to ours. They've been bumbling it around for a bit, so it took days and days for what takes normal folk about ten seconds. The customer is getting pissed, I'm making lame excuses, and finally, finally, they send me the password this morning. Anyone care to guess what it was?

Admin / admin

A goddamn major web hosting provider. Fantastic security guys. Way to use Caps on the first "Admin" to throw the l33t hax0rs off the trail, you collective Einsteins.

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Gimme Your Money! And Can I Use The Can? -- Sharkey @ 10:42 am
I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll ever get over this subconscious desire to see the stupid punished through physical pain. Especially in my local area, where a 40-50 year-old robber attempted to rob a middle-aged couple in their home with a knife. Police rushed the would-be robber to the hospital shortly thereafter.

A man thought to be in his 40s or 50s knocked on the apartment door of Marianne Bola, 46, and James Tunie, 47, in the 8400 block of Slater Avenue, then pushed his way in when they answered, pulling a knife and demanding cash. Bola knocked the knife from his hand with a chair, then Tunie knocked him to the ground and punched him.

Huntington Beach Police Lt. Bill Peterson said the suspect was unresponsive when police arrived. He was taken to UCI Medical Center for treatment of unknown injuries.

OK, I can see the logic in this guy's attempt if the potential victims were senile, and in wheelchairs. And maybe blind. But for fuck's sake, if you burst into my home with a switchblade and demanded money, I'd have to bash your teeth into the back of your throat. Perhaps if you had a gun, and weren't all coked up, I'd respond to your vague threats. But I don't think I've heard anything so ludicrous this morning as attacking somebody on their home turf with a goddamn knife.

Takes grease AND SPEED-ADDICTED CROOKS out of your way. A Proctor & Gamble protection device.There must be a million different household items lying around that I can blind, beat, or disembowel you with. I'm not even talking about my room, with it's numerous weapons of varied pointy edges and shinyness. I'm not even talking about the badass ginsu knives we keep in the kitchen. Any household cleansing agent becomes an effective crackhead deterrent when push comes to shove. I'd wager that if you gave any victim of a street holdup a bottle of Liquid Dawn®, the tide would take an interesting turn. After all, there's nothing more aggrivating in a combat situation than a light, soapy discharge burning your retinas. I'd say carry a plastic baggy of Comet and say it's Anthrax, but that's a lot of time at the police station you'd rather not spend this holiday season.

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Alarming News For My Monday Morning Lull -- Sharkey @ 9:28 am
Another weekend gone, another half hour of my Sunday eaten by watching the always-terrible Extended Play. I should've taken those two out at the San Diego Con this summer when I saw the opportunity. Unfortunately they were standing in front of the new Robotech figures, which were made of shiny metal. And not at all unlike our brother, the mighty raccoon, I am both mystified and drawn to shiny objects, as well as bulbous ones.

Anyway, getting off topic may be fun, but getting back is the real challenge. I was perusing that Internet thingy and some website linked to an article stating that one in four people has sex in a car following the office Christmas party. Then the wheels of logic struck me blindly in the face. We can't bring anyone to our office party this year, as it occurs during lunch. So if my probability rate is 25%...

*stands up and scans around the office*

*sees about 15 middle aged programmers*

*shudders*

Yeah, I think I'll pass this year. I don't even want to give a lift to those unwashed bastards.

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 Friday, December 14, 2001

Random Britney Ass For Your Friday Enjoyment -- Sharkey @ 4:49 pm
Anybody want to comment on the validity of this? (thanks pi)

I know you were all dissappointed by Britney's withdrawl from the PETA nekkid thing, so I figure this might help ease your pain. If it doesn't, go get yourself a real woman, you damned leech!

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Oh my god, they killed Blitzen! You bastards! -- KlfJoat @ 3:19 pm
I ... can't ... stop ... laughing ... long enough...

Blitzen, a reindeer that escaped from Tee Pee Garden Center on Route 910 and Rochester Road, was shot and killed by a hunter who mistook him for a deer.
Now, I'm no fucking hunter, but there's no way in hell I could mistake a reindeer for a whitetail. Look at that fucking thing! You'd have to be blind to mistake it for a deer!

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Where Would My Day Be Without An MS Patch? -- Sharkey @ 2:52 pm
Way to be on the ball there guys. Finally got a patch out for that goddamn email that tries to open up Windows Media Player. I love you Microsoft, you piss-poor software producing bastards.

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Don't Fuck With The Orkin Man -- Sharkey @ 11:33 am
Another one of life's little mysteries is solved. Have you ever seen one of those exterminator trucks, usually with the cute lil' logo on it of a guy prepped to exterminate some sort of vermin? Have you ever wondered why a lot of them have those siren lights (the flashy kind that old skool cops put on their roofs)?

I was on my way to work this morning, and was coming up to the only road in town that narrows to one lane on either side. In front of me was one of those exterminator trucks, moving at an incredibly sluggish pace. I tried speeding past on the side, but he noticed what I was doing and decided to speed up. That prick sped up a good twenty miles per hour, just so that he'd be in front, and he could return to his snail's pace with me in tow. See, this is what happens when cousins breed and we give them a license.

So I, of course, gun it past him just before the lanes merge. He was displeased enough to turn on his siren light and display a very uncourteous salute. I should report the guy to his company for driving like that in a company car, but the fact that I made the sum'bitch turn the flashers on me was well worth it.

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 Thursday, December 13, 2001

Sharkey denied! -- KlfJoat @ 8:29 pm
You know, some days I really hate to have to do this. It's not like I want to be the bearer of bad news, but some times it's better if people get their hopes dashed sooner rather than later.

Spears' publicist and the campaign director for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) each denied widely circulated media reports Thursday that the singer was planning to appear nude in an anti-fur poster campaign for the animal rights group.

According to both camps, Spears had considered providing a photo of herself fully clothed for a PETA poster that the popular New York nightclub Centro Fly would use to promote its new policy of refusing entry to patrons wearing fur.

But the singer's representatives cut off those discussions after seeing media reports attributed to PETA campaign director Dan Mathews saying Spears planned to pose naked, Spears' publicist Lisa Kasteler said.

I'm sorry. Anything that sounds too good to be true usually is.

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The Pie Report® -- Sharkey @ 12:05 pm
Two major players in the pie market changed their positions today.

Off the marketOn the market

First up, Ashley Judd moved herself completely off the trading floor by marrying race car driver Dario Franchitti in Scotland yesterday. That's not too much of a blow, since she's getting older and already contributed highly to you by performing numerous acts of gratuitous nudity onscreen.

Kate Winslet, on the other hand, has put herself right back onto the trading floor by divorcing her husband Jim Threapleton, with whom she shared a child. Kate, like Ashely, is also a big advocate of the nekkidness for cash dynamic. *thumbs up* Good for you, Kate.

OK, now erase all that and write 'I'm a naughty, naughty girl' 200 times.Lastly, but most importantly, comes news of Britney Spears' plan to do a little nudie shoot (thanks again, Chris) for PETA (grrr) and their "I'd rather go naked" campaign. Dig:

Britney Spears will bare her bodacious bod for animal rights in an upcoming PETA campaign. PAGE SIX has learned the songstress has agreed to peel down for a PETA poster that should be available by Christmas.

It's an animal-rights about-face for Spears, who was slammed by PETA for performing at the MTV Awards with a caged tiger on stage.

Personally, I'm not a big fan of PETA and their inane little quests. But on the fur subject, I am indifferent. Especially once they started this nekkidness campaign, of which I had no previous knowledge.

The beauty of this is that Dominique Swain is their current poster girl for the campaign, which you can have a nice gander at if you click on the image over to the right. I know, the images aren't that big of a deal because the pics are all censored. Shut up. A little "artistic" nudity is necessary every now and again. Besides, you chumps should take what you can get.

BTW, they have a little documentary about Dominique's photo shoot, complete with random stupidity from Dominique herself! Take caution, there's plenty of PETA propaganda right afterwards.

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Big Fat Deal... No, Really. -- Sharkey @ 8:52 am
Dipping into the ol' mailbag, I received this lil' piece of electronic correspondence, which can only cause more trouble for that Christmas gut you're nursing:

I could kick your Whoppers® ass.Hi Sharkey

I'll get right to the point. I saw your rant about McDonald's and had to tell you about fatburger.com. Magic just bought the joint and now they're blowing out t-shirts for $6.95 online. Much better than going in to a store and paying $12!

Thought you and the rest of the BAMF team should know.

Quinn

You know, I really can't get enough news about the Fatburger. It really is just a fantastic place to eat. Although I'm not in the market for a new shirt, this is a pretty nice deal, since those shirts are usually twice that much. And since you're saving so much there, you could go and buy some swank MoFo Gear. Just a thought.

It's good to know that ol' Magic bought up part of the chain. I don't think he'll want to change the menu, or the in-store practices. At least, I hope he (and his partners) wont. And my Louisville Slugger agrees.

Dammit. Now I want a Big Fat Deal with chili fries. Faaq, where the Hell are you?

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 Wednesday, December 12, 2001

IGN.com: the fourth reich. -- PiratePete @ 11:41 pm
After months of being harassed by IGN to join their nazi-esque insider program and being bombarded with their zany pop-up ads I finally snapped. It is time to stop cold turkey. I suggest everybody else do the same and help me initiate a mass boycott of all things related to IGN just so we can laugh when they show up on fuckedcompany.com. When that day comes I will be laughing very hard. I really don't care if I'm in a public place, a restaurant or a wedding. I will laugh until it is physically impossible to continue. I will laugh until bizarre liquids comes out of my mouth, an instant indicator to "stop laughing". Until that magic day I suggest you check out The Gaming Chronicle for hardware and software reviews. Over and out.

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War against idiocy -- KlfJoat @ 7:32 pm
Let's see what The Nothing submitted today:

"Research shows that girls prefer different video game features than boys," said Katharine E. Heintz-Knowles, a former professor of communications studies at the University of Washington at Seattle who conducted the study for Children Now.
Wow, no shit, Sherlock! Girls prefer different things from boys? Imagine that. Next you're going to tell me that they don't have a pee-pee like I do!

Fucking dumb woman is probably married to fatass Knowles. At least we now know why she's a FORMER professor.

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Grasping For Greatness, And Pulling Back Bullshit -- Sharkey @ 4:57 pm
There is a very, very fine line between something profound and something completely insipid. You can do your best to find the core of an argument, some completely innovative way of thinking, and somehow miss by an inch and become the laughingstock of your peers. Let's laugh at the insipid, shall we my children?

Seems that Chris Henning, an Aussie writer, has taken it upon himself to evaluate why Harry Potter and The Lord Of The Rings are fundamentally appealing to us, and why we are so easily enveloped by them. His theory? The books are racist. (Danke, Fitz) Yeah, apparently good writing and engrossing storylines hold no candle to a backdrop of racism. Who knew?

Our response is no different from our view of orcs in Lord of the Rings. It is a racist view of the world, and to that extent, Harry Potter's appeal is to the racist within us.

Just because Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings can be seen as racist is no reason to ban them, restrict their circulation or protect the vulnerable from them. Far from it - they are wonderful stories. But we should see them for what they are, and know that that is their appeal. We should ask why their appeal is so great.

Harry and the hobbits, with their takeaway racism, offer the same comfort for the whole world: join our tribe, be special with us, despise our subhumans.

Man, humanity is just on a roll today. I can't go five feet without somebody doing or saying something incredibly stupid. Let's pick this apart piece by piece, alright?

First off, he's not completely off base with the racism thing, at least in part. See, in Rings, Tolkien was obviously using the separation of the races as a side note in the grand battle of good vs. evil. It's an allusion to the way we live life now, to be sure. But correct me if I'm wrong, don't the races that normally shun one another band together to fight evil? And again, that's just a sidenote to the actual basis of the story: a small fry rising above all challenges to save the world, with the help of his friends and strangers alike.

Potter, on the other hand, is even more annoyingly presented. Sure, at it's basest level, the difference between regular humans and magic users is along the same lines as the basest form of racism. But that's not the story. It's just a tiny piece of the fabric, even more so in the film.

The fact is, Henning was looking for a fundamental element, a manipulative technique which makes these novels appealing. He had good reason, because there is one. Unfortunately, he missed the mark.

If any psych majors out there would like to take a stab at guessing the manipulative element (which has since become a goldmine in the marketing industry) then you get a cookie. Bonus points to those with intelligent examples of how this affects society as a whole. I'm actually going to write all of this out as an article now, because there's no way I can fit in all the examples and theories without bogging the main page down and driving away all you kiddies who are just clicking through for pr0n. So let's discuss this in the comments until then.

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We "Civilized" Folk Attack Each Other With Cake -- Sharkey @ 10:47 am
If you can laugh at a groom dying during the middle of a wedding cereony, you're just a miserable, miserable bastard. So join me in being a miserable, miserable bastard, won't you? (Thanks Chris)

An Iranian bridegroom bit off more than he could chew when, according to custom, he licked honey from his bride's finger during their marriage ceremony and choked to death on one of her false nails.

The Jam-e Jam newspaper said on Wednesday the 28-year-old groom died on the spot in the northwestern city of Qazvin while the bride was rushed to hospital after fainting from shock.

*Sigh* Yet another tragic Lee Press-On Nail®-related death. When will we learn, people? Won't somebody think of the children?

Chris, who sent this in, was upset that people like this are allowed to respire in our plane of existence. He beleives that the MoFo Army would be well suited to assist these folks in expediating their necessary plank-walk off this mortal coil. But I tend to think that nature sorts out folks like this in it's own somewhat Darwinian fashion. See, the guy was nearly to the point of procreation, so nature decided to step in and eliminate his presence from the gene pool. Unfortunately, nature is a little too lenient with it's choices. That is where the MoFo Army comes in. To eliminate the jackholes that slip through the cracks of nature's imperfect system.

Hear that Rosie O'Donnell? You watch your ass. Not that it's hard to miss.

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 Tuesday, December 11, 2001

You Extol Me With A Lotta Confidence, Doc -- Sharkey @ 7:03 pm
Well, I'm off to take a final. It's on concepts of 3D Animation, so let's hope it all works out. That monkey I've been sending to class in my stead hasn't been all that productive, other than a few sketches of women's asses. I didn't think monkeys had such a flair for the aesthetic.

Wish me luck.

*Update* Seems that I didn't need it much. The instructor nervously scanned the room about ten minutes into the test, and asked "Does anyone feel that they're doing alright on this exam?" I felt somewhat confident, despite never having paid a lick of attention in the class, so I saw no problem with raising my hand. I was the only one.

That's when things got interesting. He started by giving a series of clues, then it went from flat out answers to the questions to the allowance of notes and textbooks. Amazing.

Perhaps they put me in the "special ed" 3D Animation class. That would explain why the blonde haired kid (from whom I purposefully moved farther and farther away as the class progressed) would chuckle in oafish delight every time the teacher would even describe the process of making a model explode. If he'd actually shown an example, I think the poor kid would've had a coronary.

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All I Want For Christmas Is Victory! ...And A Pony. -- Sharkey @ 3:19 pm
Take it from me, you can't run a professional death squad these days without stunningly high morale. Whereas I use bananas and turkey gravy to boost the confidence of the MoFo Simian Squadrons, the AUC (aka: United Self-Defense Forces of Colombia) utilize cheerful Christmas cards. They're the perfect reminder to your troops of how important their contributions to your plans of mass-genocide really are.

A unit of Colombia's ultra-right death squads, blamed for some of the worst massacres in a 37-year war, has sent Christmas cards to its fighters wishing them peace and a prosperous New Year. The e-mail letter, signed by a regional block of the outlawed United Self-Defense Forces of Colombia, features a blonde girl donning a white angel costume with wings standing in front of a richly decorated Christmas tree.

``It is the month in which we sow our hopes to achieve a peace that is so craved for by all Colombians. And with Christmas come our new projects and hopes for the next year,'' the letter, a copy of which was obtained by Reuters, said.

Wow. There really must be nothing better than slaughtering a family of 4 with blunt instruments, then kicking back at your hacienda with some egg-nog and finding that little "Christmas Bonus" on your doorstep.

Kinda warms your heart just thinking about it, right?

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It Chases The Mailman For A Different Reason -- Sharkey @ 9:14 am
Well, it's a fine Tuesday morning. Let's see what's going on in the news, shall we? Hmmm... seems that the Japanese have some sort of upgrade to the AIBO. I wonder what it...it... oh dear God...

I've seen countless innocents slaughtered, but even this is beyond my boundaries of good taste.Comfortably seated behind the two-way mirror, Shukan Jitsuwa's reporter describes a young woman in her early twenties, obviously fond of animals, who beckons Vibe-inu to snuggle on her, er, lap and burrow in. Soon she is emitting purrs of delight.
*Stares, with jaw dropped, in shock and disbelief*
Vibe-inu, which responds to orders from its master to "come" and "stay," is built on the chassis of a basic cyber pet (of a brand not mentioned). The techno-pooch in any case appears to be of mixed breed, although from its nose, one's would guess one of its parents was a cyber-collie. To wit, the elongated object that serves as the creature's proboscis is none other than a battery powered sex aid that buzzes and rotates when activated.

"Gee, what an obedient pet," the reporter concludes. "I can hardly wait to see what the next generation model will be able to do."

Dammit Japan, we can't leave you alone for five minutes without you turning something as simple as a robotic dog into a mechanical conduit of bestiality. What's even worse is that there's an AIBO ad right at the top of the article. Why not advertise the mod chips and dildo attachment and get it over with. And take a look at the reader comments at the bottom of the page. Seems that a lot of Americans are down with Robo-Pup's new "enhancements." Also note that they are nearly all men. *shakes head* You fellas need a hobby. And no, AIBO hacking is not a healthy option.

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 Monday, December 10, 2001

If It Was Burger King, She Wouldve Said "NO JUEVOS?!" -- Sharkey @ 12:13 pm
Dude, the girl just wanted to be like Jared, and she gets shot at.

[STL Today] - A customer at Subway's Hampton Avenue shop asked the person preparing his sandwich not to include spicy pepperoncini - a request that the preparer promptly poo-poohed: "Do you think this is a Burger King?" she allegedly asked and added the pepperoncini. The disgusted customer then removed the pepperoncini from the sandwich, dropped them on the floor, and departed with a friend. The lippy clerk, irate at the mess, allegedly followed the customer outside brandishing a gun, jumped in her car and followed the couple. "According to the report, the employee fired two shots at the customer's car," said St. Louis Police Lt. Robert Scheetz Jr., and the pepper-minded preparer was later transported to the pokey. Chaneka Holden was charged with assault and armed criminal action in the case.
There must be more to this story than this. It takes more effort to put the damned pepperoncinis on the sandwich than not, so the preparer must have already had it in for the girl prior to the sammich-making process. You gotta work hard at spite like that my friends, because not everyone can expel it from their pores like I do.

Speaking of spite, I had lots of it on Saturday afternoon when I beat Max Payne. One of my HDs has been royally fucking up lately, so at that pivotal ending moment, all of the sudden the comp froze up. Needless to say, my machine received mountains of spite as I took off the side panel and punched the offending hardware. Strangely enough, it seems to work better now. Further proof that spite, not love, makes the world go 'round.

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E/N Goes All Will & Grace On Your Ass -- Sharkey @ 11:04 am
Yep, it's a Monday morning and I've used the "E/N"-word. Grab a cup of coffee and sit down for a minute.

For those of you who visit Brain Damage, you may have noticed my pal TBA's latest feature entitled Coming Out. Yes, I knew. Does it make any difference? Nope. Unless, of course, TBA decides to include homosexual-related content all over the place. But I know the guy, he's not about being an advocate, and he's not going to use it as a crutch or an excuse for attention. I think this article was about getting four years of pent-up feelings out into the open. And I support him for that. You know you got my love TBA, er, in a completely platonic and non-sexual sort of way.

Not that there's anything wrong with that. (Ooh, you knew I'd slip that in somewhere, didn't you?)

I very much appreciate his open dislike of what he deems "faggy fag fags". I've never had a problem with anyone being gay, as long as you're not some sort of flambouyant ass about it. Being gay for the sake of being gay is something that earns you no respect in my book. I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I found that my friend would not take part in this television-bred lunacy. You want an identity, go take some peyote in the desert and read a book. But please, don't model your life after sitcoms and Gap ads. A husk of a human being is a still a husk, despite their sexuality, religious views, or political affiliation. You want to shove your idealism down someone's throat, fine. But don't expect any special treatment from me, you picked that route.

And to some of you who think that being gay is wrong, and seek to snub those who take part in that lifestyle. You, friend, are an idiot and hypocrite. Sure, the Bible says it's wrong. It also says that premarital sex and jerking off are wrong, and I'm sure that 100% of you are guilty of at least one of those (I'll give you one guess as to which.) So to persecute for one thing and not the other, that's hypocrisy. Push your holier-than-thou bullshit somewhere else, we're all stocked up here.

Well TBA, you got me to be serious for ten minutes. I hope you're happy pal. And R2D2 was not gay. Maybe Threepio.

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 Saturday, December 08, 2001

Now you can appeal the unfairness -- KlfJoat @ 12:29 pm

Decisions by international arbitrators in cybersquatting cases can be challenged in U.S. court, an appeals panel has ruled.

The appellate judges said that under the Anti-Cybersquatting Consumer Protection Act, signed by former President Clinton two years ago, a domain name holder may file a civil action suit in U.S. courts if the domain name has been suspended, disabled or transferred.

I mentioned in my previous article an example situation where the desire of a trademark holder to keep his trademark intact can sometimes range into the absurd. The case mentioned in that article is the poster child for absurd.

Apparently one Jay Sallen registered Corinthians.com in August 1998 with Network Solutions and posted Biblical material on the site, Corinthians being one of the books of the Judeo-Christian Bible. On May 18, 2000, Corinthians Licenciamentos, owners of a Brazillian soccer team, filed a complaint with WIPO, alleging that Sallen's domain name was similar to its trademark and that it has rights in Brazil to the name, "Corinthiao," the Portuguese equivalent of "Corinthians." WIPO found that Sallen had registered the name "in bad faith".

You're talking about a man who registered a name older than dirt, and used it to post information about a book that's older than dirt, and yet somehow he's registered the name in bad faith? How could he know that there was some freak soccer team in Brazil that would want the English translation of its name as a domain? I'd be going after the guy who registered "corinthiao.com", myself.

Thankfully, Sallen had money and went to court to fight the arbitration decision. The article even quotes an ICANN spokeswoman as saying that the U.S. courts are a place to appeal the arbitration decisions. The problem is the enormous expense involved in filing a federal court case is prohibitive to the grassroots kind of people who commonly register domains such as the one I used as an example in my original article (walmartsucks.com).

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 Friday, December 07, 2001

I'd Hate To See What He'd Do To Spite His Face -- Sharkey @ 12:57 pm
Can't even mutilate yourself right, nutjobDo you think that God wants stupid people in heaven? I guess he's a bit more forgiving than I am, which is why he's the mighty creator of planets and beer, whilst I create websites for shitbags who sell useless ceramic trinkets. But at least I'm not the guy who cut off his own unit in a misplaced fit of religious idealism. (thanks Chris, and everyone else who sent this in) Men, prepare to grab yourselves in sympathetic pain.

32-year-old Filipino farmer who believed his penis was driving him to sin sliced it off with a machete in a fit of religious fervor, family members and doctors said on Friday.

Relatives said they found the former security guard lying on the floor, covered in blood and with a portion of his penis missing when they went to his hut on Negros island in the southern Philippines on Monday.

*grabs self* Yeah, that's uh... can we skip past this bit? Great.
``His act was probably triggered by the book of Matthew 18:8,'' his mother said. The verse, from the New Testament, reads ``If your hand or your foot causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life maimed or crippled than to have two hands or two feet and be thrown into eternal fire.''
I'm just a man, and therefore will not even purport to understand the word of God. But I was always one to think of that verse as a metaphor, rather than literal context. I figured it meant to get away from things that cause you to do wrong, like steering clear of shooting ranges if you're a mass murderer, or staying away from goatse.cx if you're a person with eyes. Not to be taken as "chop off your wang if you think about naked broads." If that were so, you'd see preachers everywhere up on the chopping block. Shoot, even Catholic priests keep their package, and they aren't allowed to use it. And if memory serves, I seem to recall a passage in the Bible about not mutilating yourself. Give the guy that passage and perhaps he'll start sobbing like a little baby, if he isn't aready.

According to the article, the man's estranged unit is expected to heal within a few weeks, and that he should still be able to reproduce. Grand. Just what I was hoping for, a self-mutilating psychopath with the opportunity to breed. Looks like it's time to fly that Malthion X crop duster over the Philippines.

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McDonalds By Any Other Name Would Still McSuck -- Sharkey @ 9:35 am
Jake sent in a story about a McDonalds trying to McSpruce up the joint by adding bookshelves, wood-grain tables, and plants. Yes, I can see Muff and Uncle Biff hopping into the Jag to stand in line with the dregs of the white trash culture for a Big Mac because they added a few books that 90% of the customer base can't read.

Here's a thought McDonalds. Why don't you try making your burgers out of something other than Taiwanese refugees and recycled newspaper. At least then your burgers would be edible, and I'd go there just for the fries. Still, I don't even want to know what goes into the grease that you cook those fries in. In my experience, the tastier it is, the nastier the methods. That's why I use mayonnaise so sparingly.

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 Thursday, December 06, 2001

Is She Cold, Or Just Happy To... OK, So She's Cold -- Sharkey @ 10:13 am
Dis issn't faahnny, you gahys... giff me baahck my geahr!In an excellent display of media manipulation, a sponsorless Austrian snowboarder has decided to chuck the traditional snow gear and compete in her skivvies. But don't get too excited, you nefarious geeks, because she's not really all that attractive. But she is a little bit nuts, so I would like to personally salute her capitalistic stunt.

``Without a clothing sponsor there is nothing else I can do,'' the one-time World Cup race winner Sabrina Blassnig told the Austrian extreme sports Web site expeditionzone.com. Blassnig said she would brave freezing temperatures and don her best set of underwear to compete at a snowboarding contest in Laax, Switzerland this weekend.

``It doesn't really matter as I still have a lot to offer even without my overalls on,'' the 31-year-old said.

Man, that's insane. Have you ever been snowboarding? I have, and let me tell you, I was not pleased with the snow content of my drawers. I can't imagine the violent aftermath of a snow bath with a pair of boxers as my only means of protection. If this were a perfect world, there would never be a need for ice to come in contact with the junk. Unfortunately, we do not live in a perfect world. How do I know? Because if it were, all snowboarder chicks would do it in their underwear, and they'd all look like my new wife.

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In Other Wang Related News... -- Sharkey @ 1:56 am
Got word from my old pal Jason that the Germans (you know, the evil villainy types from that Band Of Brothers show) are trading condoms for submarines. Hey, you may as well export them my formerly goose-steppin' friends, because we all know you're not using them properly.

A German company is to build a condom factory in South Africa in exchange for a $594m contract for three German submarines.

German companies Ferrostaal, which is helping to build the three submarines, and Condomi will build the condom plant in East London, Eastern Cape province, one of South Africa's poorest areas.

Anybody else remember how in Monopoly, how when a guy is getting his ass slapped around and he has a few hotels laying around, he starts trading them for stuff erratically? Not that I'm drawing any parallels, mind you, that's not my prerogitive. I just... really like Monopoly. Probably because I've only lost one game of it in like 10 years. Still, if I had to lose a game, I'm glad it was to Tracer Bullet. He freed the squares, you know. No wait, that was Fonzie.

That random stream of thoughts tells me that it's time to hit the sack. Tune in tomorrow for another Picture Page®.

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 Wednesday, December 05, 2001

One Of Those "Self-Realization" Questions -- Sharkey @ 9:29 pm
Men, let me ask you a serious question. How much is your wang worth to you? All joking aside, how much cash money would it take for you to give up your junk, permanently? Or say somebody (God forbid, I know it's a horrifying thought) were to cause you to lose it? How much would it take to ease your mind? Would say, $6.5 Million do it for you? Because that's what happened to this guy.

An Ohio man was recently awarded a $6.5 million settlement after he had his penis amputated because doctors failed to diagnosis his cancer, Ohio Lawyers Weekly reported.

According to the weekly legal newspaper, the multi-million dollar settlement was so large because the man's doctor eventually discovered the misdiagnosis error, but instead of informing the patient about his mistake, the unnamed doctor first contacted the hospital's legal department about the matter.

So $6.5 Million is a lotta bread, right? You could do a lot of things with money like that. Cars, houses, toys... So when this comes knocking on your door in a t-shirt wet from rain, asking for a way to warm herself up, do you regret losing the package?

Yeah, that's what I thought. $6.5 Million ain't nearly enough to take that away. Sorry Mr. No-Wang-In-Ohio, I feel for you.

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When being fair is a bad idea -- KlfJoat @ 2:46 pm

A Canadian firm specializing in arbitration won't be settling any more cybersquatting disputes, saying Friday that its reputation for being fair has driven away the trademark holders who file complaints and thus decide who makes money in that business.
The ICANN was created to provide an impartial governmental alternative to InterNIC's monopolization of the Internet after the National Science Foundation stopped administrating it. The problem is, ICANN is rife with the kind of governmental bullshit that makes my blood boil.

Their domain resolution policy leaves much to be desired. If I, in good faith, register a domain such as "Walmartsucks.com", and use it to put up such important consumer information like Wal-Mart employee grievances, a forum where Wal-Mart customers can complain, and other such information, I'm well within my rights, as the law stands. If Wal-Mart gets wind of it and wants me to give up my site, they SHOULD have no ability to get it from me, as the laws and rules read, because I'm using their trademarked name following fair use guidelines, not to slander them but to warn about them. The problem is, most of the domain disputes have been put to "independant arbitrators" who regularly side with the trademark holder, against people with a legitimate use for the name, like I have in my example. The fair arbitrator would let me keep the domain. The unfair (and more profitable) arbitrator would strip me of the domain name for trademark infringement, without any thought about the "fair use" clauses of trademark law.

The problem is, most of these "trademark infringers" have legitimate reasons for holding those domain names, and are often bullied and forced out of those names by rich companies. Until someone with a lot of money and a good case gets cheated out of his domain by the ICANN UDRP arbitrators and then sues ICANN, there will be NO change in this policy.

But ICANN is a piece of shit anyway. Their original charter was to have a governing board made up of half companies (MS, Cisco, etc) and half "members-at-large". They've since reduced the "members-at-large" from around 12 to 1. We wouldn't want the public to have too big of a representation in what applies to them, now would we?

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Murphy's Law Is A Bitch -- Sharkey @ 12:06 pm
I cut myself shaving this morning. Badly, I might add, which was the first time in all my years of shaving that I've committed such an act of stupidity. Aside from the random nicks and cuts, it's all been relatively miniscule. Then this morning I make this horrid horizontal rake across the upper lip area, and realized immediately that I was an imbecile. That's what happens when you grab the razor straight out of bed. I'll be sure to add "coffee before shave" to my list of life lessons.

This normally wouldn't have fazed me, as I'm not one to give much of a shit. However, I just had a meeting with a multi-billion dollar aerospace company who's website is about to be completely rethought and redesigned by...yours truly. An expensive client, and a very large site. And here I am, on a day when my fibrin levels appear to be at an all time low, because I'm bleeding every twenty fucking minutes. Grand.

So I get my gash stabilized, and head into the meeting with my boss. The whole thing is going great, we're at the phase where the client is showing me what he likes/dislikes about the existing site. Yadda yadda yadda. It's around then that I can feel it. I reach into my pocket, produce a tissue I brought for emergency purposes, and reach for the war wound. I pull my hand back and find that the tissue is nice and soaked. Fantastic. It only took a good three minutes to clot again, and most of that time was spent standing over the client's shoulder, but for crap's sake how stupid must it have looked? Here I am, pitching artistic services to a guy and I bleed on his new carpet. Oh well, I think he was a Lieutenant Colonel before he got into the aerospace biz, so he's probably seen some bloodshed before, and probably from a heftier weapon than a Gillette Mach 3.

Anyway, that was my morning. How was yours?

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 Tuesday, December 04, 2001

@Home Snowed, But We'll Be Fine -- Sharkey @ 11:16 am
Even though Excite@Home is now officially fucked, a whole lot of @Home users (like myself) can breathe a little easier. Comcast and Cox have teamed up with a bunch of other cable providers to continue uninterrupted service to the nearly 2 million subscribers under their respective networks. That should give them plenty of time to roll us sorry bastards over onto their own services. Yay us. Of course, this means that Tracer Bullet will be swearing up a storm, since he had a Cox guy talk him into not signing up for the service on Saturday. Life lesson number one, my good friend, never, ever trust the cable guy.

Life lesson number 2? Keep all sharp and/or pointy objects away from the junk.

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Is OJ A Candy Raver? -- Sharkey @ 9:54 am
OJ Sez: 'The American legal system is a joke! Uh... I mean...shit, wait...'Well, it seems that we can't go through one single year without hearing about some sort of OJ related police activity, so let's get this outta the way as efficiently as possible. The Juice's house was raided this morning (thanks to the guy who sent this in, but who's name was left at home) as part of an investigation into an Ecstacy drug ring, which apparently laundered money and hacked satellite cards as well. Drug pushers are hard workers these days, I guess.

Eight other people were arrested in Miami and two in Chicago as part of a two-year investigation called Operation X, FBI spokeswoman Judy Orihuela said.
Operation X. An Ecstacy investigation called Operation X. Very imaginitive, my FBI friends. When does Operation Mary Jane kick into high gear?
Simpson had not been arrested or indicted and Orihuela wouldn't discuss his connection to the investigation. Nine other homes in Miami were also being searched by the FBI along with the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration and the Miami-Dade Police Department.

Agents arrived at about 6 a.m. and the former football great was at home. In a shot from a television helicopter, Simpson could be seen walking in the backyard in a bathrobe. About two hours after agents arrived, Simpson left the home alone in his sports utility vehicle without talking to reporters.

Well. How many of you want to place money on OJ being the proud owner of a hacked satellite card, and not having another goddamn thing to do with this case? Who here doesn't know somebody with a hacked satellite card? Hmmm?

Seriously, I don't think OJ would be stupid enough to get involved in a drug smuggling ring, with all the prying eyes that'll be stuck to him for the rest of his life. Well, maybe he is stupid enough, but I highly doubt that he's smart enough to get involved in a complicated drug ring such as this. The extent of his "drug ring" would involve Kato or A.C. and a rickety old van full of hippies.

Now that I think about it, that would be a fun cartoon series. OJ And The Weed Wagon. He and Kato could solve mysteries. Well, except this one.

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 Monday, December 03, 2001

Bash My Skull & Wake Me When It's Friday -- Sharkey @ 11:38 am
Talula Mae, where'd yew put that thar Micruh-Soft Sahd-Wahnder? I'z got ta git mah Cown-ter-Straahke awn!Well, here we are, being kicked in the pants by yet another Monday. I was greeted this fine Monday morning by not one, not two, but three instances of customer idiocy. The greatest of which was one of our "southern" customers (whom I always imagine living in a trailer and beating his wife after we finish speaking) who called about his video game related website (which actually has a 3MB movie embedded into the front page). This fella actually wanted to put an executable on his webpage, a recompiled version of the game, but only certain level which his "teammates" could "git thar trainin' sessions in on." Of course, put through jumbled southern-speak, this came out slightly less articulate and with no particular hint of technical know-how. Rather than go through the lengthy explanation of how software is compiled, or even how an illegal (and somewhat impossible) recompile of the game could result in serious legal repercussions, I simply told him that I had no idea what he was talking about. This way perhaps he'll leave me alone and call an actual videogame tech support line instead of this humble webmaster. But then, I know I'm a miserable sinner with much to atone for, so I expect him to call back any minute now.

I guess we should take a look at the news, right? I mean, that's what Monday mornings are all about. Drinking coffee, pretending to work or even care about your redneck customers, while perusing the pie forum. I suppose a lot of you will want some sort of commentary on this little mishap. I know, I know, another parental-stupidity related death that is blamed on videogames. Whatever. You guys have heard me rant on this subject many times over, no need to flog a dead horse. Besides, Tycho at Penny Arcade handled it in excellent fashion. Whatever he said, make mine a double.

And of course there's this whole Ginger/IT/Segway fiasco. I like how the inventor hates when people call IT a "scooter". Funny, it looks just like a scooter. My older sister had a scooter when I was a little kid. Do you know why she had one? Because she wasn't old enough to drive a car. I really doubt that I'll be able to cruise the boulevard for hotties on my uh... glorified moped. Not that my Civic does a lot for my credibility now, but that's another topic altogether. We start littering the streets with these things and suddenly your friend who's car always seems to be broken down is shit out of luck. Unless of course, your friend wants to ride on the handlebars, or cling vigorously to your buttocks. Something tells me that IT's designers didn't have that particular homoerotic feature in mind when they designed her, Chewie.

*Sigh* Mr. Redneck just called again, mid-sentence. He wanted to know if I can teach him how to code over the phone, "real quick-like." I'm tempted to tell him that a steady regiment of Malthion X aids in the coding process.

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 Sunday, December 02, 2001

Soldier Field -- Raygun @ 6:47 pm

"no company is ever going to buy the naming rights to Soldier Field. It is out of the question. It is always going to be Soldier Field. It is not going to be `John Jones-Soldier Field.'

"Someone could sponsor it, but not change the name."

--Mayor of Chicago, Richard Daley, concerning the rumored coporate renaming of historic Soldier Field.

The mayor and I may not see eye to eye with many issues in his political machine but Da Mayor did Chicago proud with his firm stance against the detestable practice of corporate sponsorship for every goddam thing we love. Great places are not meant to be dubbed silly names such as "United Center" or "Pepsi Arena". Names like these do not evoke tradition or pride. They are the polar opposite of all the things that make sports great.

Tradition is not something to be trifled with. Ask any Marine, retired or otherwise about his career and the first thing they will call to mind is the tradition, the brotherhood, the feeling of belonging. While something as simple as an area designated for overpaid professionals to play a game does not seem to be a thing that is rife with tradition and history. It almost invariably is.

Speaking from experience, going to a Bears game IS like being in a brotherhood. You pack a cooler with beer and brats, you park your car as close as you can get it to the field (usually about 2 miles), there's below-zero temperatures and face-biting flurries. Yet we are outside drinking it all in (figuratively and literally). Suffering but not really suffering. You form temporary kinships with people around you whom you don't know and almost assuredly will never meet again. For those few hours they are your best friends in the trenches.

Bears fans don't want high scores and glamorous play. We want grind-it-out running games and intense defense. High scores are for show-boaters. The Bears don't want to win so much as they want to punish the opposing team. It's a tradition in the city of wide shoulders. Keep the glamor, we'll take the bruises and the W.

You may not like The Bears or Soldier Field but give it up to one of the last great places to play or watch professional sports. There are only a few left (Wrigley Field, Fenway Park, Soldier Field), so even if they aren't your own, enjoy them while you can and keep your own historical places of interest alive, even if it's only in your memory. I will.

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