Unlike Christina Aguilera, here's someone who knew the words to the song. She didn't need a fancy outfit either. I don't even think she had her hair done. She had on a sweatsuit and a headband like she was on her way to the grocery store and decided to stop by.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YHmdu_I_0zI
Monday, February 7, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
No Super Size This Year...LargeBowl
This Superbowl kinda sucked. The game itself was okay, but Super Bowl Sunday has always been about much more than just the game. Around five o'clock I was thinking to myself, "Damn is it really Super Bowl Sunday?" The same way that some people say that it doesn't feel like Christmas or it doesn't feel like their birthday...well that's how I felt about the game today. Besides the actual fans of the Steelers and the Packers, no one seemed to care compared to last year when everybody was jumping up and down before game day.
The pre-game show sucked. The announcers were bland. The commercials SUCKED this year. And, to quote one of my Facebook friends, the halftime show looked like TRON the musical. The Doritos commercial with the old man coming back to life was funny and I chuckled at the jab that Verizon took at AT&T when they brought the original "can you hear me now" guy back. Outside of that, it was just...meh. The game itself was decent. There were no real nailbiter moments or any insane plays. It didn't feel like post-season to me at all.
It was an okay way to spend four hours but I really could've had a V8.
The pre-game show sucked. The announcers were bland. The commercials SUCKED this year. And, to quote one of my Facebook friends, the halftime show looked like TRON the musical. The Doritos commercial with the old man coming back to life was funny and I chuckled at the jab that Verizon took at AT&T when they brought the original "can you hear me now" guy back. Outside of that, it was just...meh. The game itself was decent. There were no real nailbiter moments or any insane plays. It didn't feel like post-season to me at all.
It was an okay way to spend four hours but I really could've had a V8.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
I Love the 80's and 90's
I'm sitting here watching I Love the 80s on VH1 and I just realized that I'm getting old. I don't really care that I'm getting old, but it just hit me how old I actually am. Now to a forty year old, I'm just a baby, but to the little high school kids that I have to push out of my way on the subway, at 28 I'm like a senior citizen.
You don't realize how old you are until you find yourself being shocked at how old the people on TV are. I was watching something the other day, can't remember what it was, and they flashed this lady's age. I thought to myself, "Damn she looks good for thirty. I thought she was like my age." Then I remembered...I'll be 29 in a few months. She is my age. Another weird thing is realizing that your memories live outside of time. I was like eight or nine when Jordan got his first ring. Back then he looked like any other adult...old. I'm the same age now that he was back then, but I think of myself as like 22 or something. It's weird and hard to explain.
Even stranger is when you see people that you think are your age (because they look young) and you learn that they are like five or six years younger than you and then you realize, "Hey, maybe I don't look that young after all." So with all of this in mind, I still don't care about getting older. I hope to add so many numbers to my age that they run out of wax for the birthday candles. I just find it weird when I realize that a person turning 18 today
I'm sure that anyone older than me can say something similar about me, but this is my post and my thoughts. It's also my time to resent these little bastards for never having to go to a library and use ENCYCLOPEDIAS, the Card Catalog and the Dewey Decimal System to do their homework.
Things done changed.
[caption id="attachment_643" align="aligncenter" width="610" caption="1994's version of Google"]
[/caption]
[caption id="attachment_633" align="aligncenter" width="628" caption="Cue the commercial: Ya-HOOoooo!"]
[/caption]
You don't realize how old you are until you find yourself being shocked at how old the people on TV are. I was watching something the other day, can't remember what it was, and they flashed this lady's age. I thought to myself, "Damn she looks good for thirty. I thought she was like my age." Then I remembered...I'll be 29 in a few months. She is my age. Another weird thing is realizing that your memories live outside of time. I was like eight or nine when Jordan got his first ring. Back then he looked like any other adult...old. I'm the same age now that he was back then, but I think of myself as like 22 or something. It's weird and hard to explain.
Even stranger is when you see people that you think are your age (because they look young) and you learn that they are like five or six years younger than you and then you realize, "Hey, maybe I don't look that young after all." So with all of this in mind, I still don't care about getting older. I hope to add so many numbers to my age that they run out of wax for the birthday candles. I just find it weird when I realize that a person turning 18 today
- Wasn't even alive when Michael Jackson's Black or White debuted on prime time TV after In Living Color
- Was two when the Playstation came out and missed the entire video game cartridge generation
- Was too young to witness the greatness that used to be the Dallas Cowboys and San Francisco 49ers
- Was five when The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, Hard Knock Life and DMX's It's Dark and Hell is Hot came out
- Never got to play with a Teddy Ruxpin
- Probably never had a TV with knobs
- Doesn't remember Yahoo having those dumb sections: "Arts and Humanities, Entertainment" instead of a simple search bar
- Missed the whole America Online buddy list, "You've got mail," five minute boot-up period while you waited for dial-up to connect
- By the time they turned five...Martin, Living Single, In Living Color, The Cosby Show and A Different World were all off the air.
- Never had a brown cable box with the bright red numbers and the A/B side.
I'm sure that anyone older than me can say something similar about me, but this is my post and my thoughts. It's also my time to resent these little bastards for never having to go to a library and use ENCYCLOPEDIAS, the Card Catalog and the Dewey Decimal System to do their homework.
Things done changed.
[caption id="attachment_643" align="aligncenter" width="610" caption="1994's version of Google"]
[/caption][caption id="attachment_633" align="aligncenter" width="628" caption="Cue the commercial: Ya-HOOoooo!"]
[/caption]
iCan't Believe It
Dear Steve Jobs,
Hardy Har! I ordered the iPhone at 3AM along with the other cultists and at 10 I got an email saying that my iPhone had shipped "overnight mail." I knew that had to be a mistake because it isn't supposed to come out until the 10th. I shrugged it off and went about my pious non-iPhone-having life.
The next day the concierge downstairs (bougie term for the guy that works the front desk downstairs) tells me that a package came from me. He pulled out a FedEx box sent from Verizon. An orb of light emanated from the box and a choir of angels sang in my head the entire elevator ride up to my apartment.With surgical precision I cut the seal on the box, made my way through the bill of sale and packing slips to pull out
A DROID X.
(cue that whooshing sound from Lost that played before a flashback)
Two days earlier
(A two-day younger version of me walks into the Verizon store. A gust of wind flows through the store a la Michael Jackson walking into the bar in the Smooth Criminal video. Everyone pauses to look at my handsome self.)
"Yeah my Droid keeps acting up. I can't hear any music when I put my headphones on."
"No problem sir, I'll just order another one for you since you're still in your warranty. It'll take a while for the phone to get to you though. I'd say probably a week or so."
"That's cool, by then I'll probably have my iPhone."
(cue whooshing Lost sound as we come back from the flashback)
Yeah, Steve Jobs...real effing funny. Hardy har! I just checked the tracking status and it says that the phone will be here Monday. It better be Steve! It better be!
Hardy Har! I ordered the iPhone at 3AM along with the other cultists and at 10 I got an email saying that my iPhone had shipped "overnight mail." I knew that had to be a mistake because it isn't supposed to come out until the 10th. I shrugged it off and went about my pious non-iPhone-having life.
The next day the concierge downstairs (bougie term for the guy that works the front desk downstairs) tells me that a package came from me. He pulled out a FedEx box sent from Verizon. An orb of light emanated from the box and a choir of angels sang in my head the entire elevator ride up to my apartment.With surgical precision I cut the seal on the box, made my way through the bill of sale and packing slips to pull out
A DROID X.
(cue that whooshing sound from Lost that played before a flashback)
Two days earlier
(A two-day younger version of me walks into the Verizon store. A gust of wind flows through the store a la Michael Jackson walking into the bar in the Smooth Criminal video. Everyone pauses to look at my handsome self.)
"Yeah my Droid keeps acting up. I can't hear any music when I put my headphones on."
"No problem sir, I'll just order another one for you since you're still in your warranty. It'll take a while for the phone to get to you though. I'd say probably a week or so."
"That's cool, by then I'll probably have my iPhone."
(cue whooshing Lost sound as we come back from the flashback)
Yeah, Steve Jobs...real effing funny. Hardy har! I just checked the tracking status and it says that the phone will be here Monday. It better be Steve! It better be!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
iCan't
Dear Steve Jobs,
You win!
Sincerely,
The guy who wanted to curse out everyone at Apple and Verizon for announcing the iPhone two days after his thirty day return policy expired on his Droid X and vowed to not to buy an iPhone until the next New Every Two upgrade as an ill-conceived attempt to prove a point.
P.S.
That guy is much better now and realizes that with or without his measly $800, you will still continue to make money and churn out products that catch his eye. Without the iPhone, his bitterness would peck away at him until all that would be left is a shattered Droid on the ground floating in a puddle of tears.
PPS
He hopes that the $800 finds you in a get well soon card, because he can't conceive of an iPhone 5 without Steve Jobs' stamp of approval.
You win!
Sincerely,
The guy who wanted to curse out everyone at Apple and Verizon for announcing the iPhone two days after his thirty day return policy expired on his Droid X and vowed to not to buy an iPhone until the next New Every Two upgrade as an ill-conceived attempt to prove a point.
P.S.
That guy is much better now and realizes that with or without his measly $800, you will still continue to make money and churn out products that catch his eye. Without the iPhone, his bitterness would peck away at him until all that would be left is a shattered Droid on the ground floating in a puddle of tears.
PPS
He hopes that the $800 finds you in a get well soon card, because he can't conceive of an iPhone 5 without Steve Jobs' stamp of approval.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Child Abuse?
Did anyone else see this on the news? An Alaska woman has been arrested for disciplining her seven year old son by making him drink hot sauce and take cold showers. Apparently the lady was on Dr. Phil where they showed a home video that she submitted when she asked for help. That video has been used as evidence to charge her with child abuse. If convicted she can face up to a year in prison. My only question is...
When the hell did the bar for conviction lower to hot sauce and cold showers???
This must be something new because during the 80's my mother and grandmother played Passion of the Christ with my little ass and NOT ONE legal aide made me aware of my rights. Hot sauce and cold showers? (In my Clay Davis voice from The Wire) Shiiiiit! Man, first off we poured hot sauce on every damn thing from pork chops to chicken to fish to Capn Crunch. You pour hot sauce in a Black kids mouth and the only reason he's gonna cry is because you didn't bring some meat to go along with it. As for cold showers...When the gas got cut off and no one had money to turn it back on, every bath was a cold bath. My mother told me to just think of it as going to the pool.
Now I know what you're thinking. "That's different than purposely causing your child harm. You liked hot food, and your family was broke and couldn't get hot water. This woman intentionally hurt her child." You know what I have to say to that? Bullllllshit! One time I asked my mother to take me to the fair. She told me she didn't have any money. I knew she had money because by six years old, I knew her payroll schedule. When I brought up the fact that it was the fifteenth, she gave me the Black mother's line: "Boy, you got one more time!" So being tough I said, "That's okay, I'll ask my father to take me."
My mother turned into Maximus from Gladiator. I've never run so fast in my life. I ran a full block down the street. I then ran up ten steps to the front door. I opened the door, and closed it behind me. I ran up 19 steps to my room and hid under the bed. I did all of this in like three and a half seconds. I lie to you not... my mother was underneath the bed waiting for me with a belt when I got there. With one hand she lifted the bed up, with the other hand she yanked me from under the bed and somehow while simultaneously holding the bed and me she somehow grew another arm which she used to beat my ass so bad that I started hearing African drums beating in the distance.
Where the hell was Child Protective Services then?
They sure as hell didn't come when my grandmother broke out what she called a "switch" but was really a small piece of the crucifix. My grandmother would beat me with whatever was available at the time: House slipper, mixing spoon, iron cord. One time she got mad at something I did and ran over to my hot wheels race track. I thought she was taking it apart as kind of a, "You can't play with this til you get yourself together." Nope. Mattel didn't say anything about putting two of the long pieces together and making a nunchuk out of em. You know you have skills when you can beat someone's ass with a church fan in the middle of a sermon.
So with these memories fresh in my mind...No, that woman shouldn't be arrested.
To the Alaskan police: I'll trade you that lady for two women here in DC.
When the hell did the bar for conviction lower to hot sauce and cold showers???
This must be something new because during the 80's my mother and grandmother played Passion of the Christ with my little ass and NOT ONE legal aide made me aware of my rights. Hot sauce and cold showers? (In my Clay Davis voice from The Wire) Shiiiiit! Man, first off we poured hot sauce on every damn thing from pork chops to chicken to fish to Capn Crunch. You pour hot sauce in a Black kids mouth and the only reason he's gonna cry is because you didn't bring some meat to go along with it. As for cold showers...When the gas got cut off and no one had money to turn it back on, every bath was a cold bath. My mother told me to just think of it as going to the pool.
Now I know what you're thinking. "That's different than purposely causing your child harm. You liked hot food, and your family was broke and couldn't get hot water. This woman intentionally hurt her child." You know what I have to say to that? Bullllllshit! One time I asked my mother to take me to the fair. She told me she didn't have any money. I knew she had money because by six years old, I knew her payroll schedule. When I brought up the fact that it was the fifteenth, she gave me the Black mother's line: "Boy, you got one more time!" So being tough I said, "That's okay, I'll ask my father to take me."
My mother turned into Maximus from Gladiator. I've never run so fast in my life. I ran a full block down the street. I then ran up ten steps to the front door. I opened the door, and closed it behind me. I ran up 19 steps to my room and hid under the bed. I did all of this in like three and a half seconds. I lie to you not... my mother was underneath the bed waiting for me with a belt when I got there. With one hand she lifted the bed up, with the other hand she yanked me from under the bed and somehow while simultaneously holding the bed and me she somehow grew another arm which she used to beat my ass so bad that I started hearing African drums beating in the distance.
Where the hell was Child Protective Services then?
They sure as hell didn't come when my grandmother broke out what she called a "switch" but was really a small piece of the crucifix. My grandmother would beat me with whatever was available at the time: House slipper, mixing spoon, iron cord. One time she got mad at something I did and ran over to my hot wheels race track. I thought she was taking it apart as kind of a, "You can't play with this til you get yourself together." Nope. Mattel didn't say anything about putting two of the long pieces together and making a nunchuk out of em. You know you have skills when you can beat someone's ass with a church fan in the middle of a sermon.
So with these memories fresh in my mind...No, that woman shouldn't be arrested.
To the Alaskan police: I'll trade you that lady for two women here in DC.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Failure...
The baby's crying, the wife is busy and I'm three days behind on sleep. In other words...Today is a bad day for posting.
So, enjoy this video from JK Rowling regarding the benefits of failure, while I try to get some rest.
http://vimeo.com/1711302
So, enjoy this video from JK Rowling regarding the benefits of failure, while I try to get some rest.
http://vimeo.com/1711302
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