- Did Regular Show have a secret marijuana joke?
- Elena Kagan is a New York, Jewish, left-wing, liberal, intellectual, Central Park West, Brandeis University, the socialist summer camps and the, the father with the Ben Shahn drawings, right, and the really, y'know, strike-oriented kind of, red diaper, stop me before I make a complete imbecile of myself
- Why Houston should care about Elizabeth Warren
- September 2012
- April 2012
- February 2012
- January 2012
- December 2011
- October 2011
- September 2011
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011
- May 2011
- April 2011
- March 2011
- February 2011
- January 2011
- December 2010
- November 2010
- October 2010
- September 2010
- August 2010
- July 2010
- June 2010
- May 2010
- April 2010
- March 2010
- February 2010
- January 2010
- December 2009
- November 2009
- October 2009
- September 2009
It’s brunch again in America. Today more urban singles will wait in line for eggs than ever before in our country’s history. With wait times for tables at about half the record highs of 2008, nearly 2,000 long-term couples will split a carafe of bloody marys made with locally-sourced ingredients than at any time in the past four years. This afternoon 6,500 young men and women will tweet a picture
of their eggs benedict, and with upload times at less than half of what they were just four years ago, they can look forward with confidence to people liking their pics. It’s brunch again in America, and under the leadership of Vice President Joe Biden, our country is hipper and funnier and has more twitter followers. Why would we ever want to return to where we were less than four short years ago.
Kyle continues what promises to be the greatest work of literature in the entire human canon:
Evan effortlessly guided himself through the plane’s rear cargo door, switched off his jetpack and came to a soft landing. A few moments later President Bartlet came spiraling through the same entrance and crashed to a stop next to Evan. Bartlet frantically removed his jetpack as the heavy cargo door shut behind them.
“Let’s never do that again,” the President said, pushing himself up off the cold metal floor.
“Maybe next time I’ll invite the House Speaker instead. He’s good at jetpacks.”
“Hmmph. Here.” Bartlet handed Evan a holster. “You almost left this with the raptors down there.”
“My lightsaber!” Evan exclaimed. He fastened the holster around his waist. “Thanks, Jed.”
The President—eager for Evan’s validation and trust because Evan is such a cool guy—smiled.
“No, thank you for having me, Doctor Captain Executive Editor Mintz, Esq.”
The two proceeded through the plane toward the control deck. They passed the petting zoo, the Treasure Room, the Additional Treasure Room, an onboard replica of the Starship Enterprise’s main bridge that was also a ball pit, the Animorph petting zoo, and finally made it to the heavy blast door separating them from the control deck.
Evan tapped on his communicator.
“Stephen,” Evan began, “it’s me, Evan. Open up the bridge door so we can come in and talk about how I was just riding raptors around with President Bartlet.”
There was no response.
“Stephen, I’m going to keep GETTING LOUDER UNTIL YOU OPEN THIS DOOR.”
“Evan, look,” President Bartlet said, quickly tapping Evan on the shoulder.
Evan turned around to see a familiar, sinister figure emerging from the onboard Executive Washroom that was reserved for Evan and Evan only.
“What are you doing here?”
“Using your bathroom, Evan,” a high-pitched, nasally voice replied.
“Look!” Bartlet shouted, pointing toward the knocked-out body sitting on the floor of the bathroom. “He’s knocked out the pilot and left him sitting on the floor of the bathroom!”
Evan upholstered his lightsaber and activated the blade.
“Nobody mistreats my talented staff of sports writers slash airplane pilots but me!”
President Bartlet cowered in a corner and called his intelligent, liberal-minded cabinet for encouraging words as Evan and the mysterious yet oh-duh-I-wonder-who-it-is figure prepared to do battle.
“You couldn’t defeat me back in college,” the small man said, snorting with laughter. “My scouter says your power level is pathetic.”
Evan made a serious face. Suddenly the air around him became charged with static and the clouds passing outside darkened to pitch. The scouter fixed to the stranger’s face beeped frantically as Evan’s power level climbed over 9,000.
“Auuuuuggggnnnhnnnn,” Evan said. “Aaaaauuuugnnnnnnnhh!”
He charged toward the intruder, lightsaber in one hand and a drawn fist in the other.
“GET OFF MY PLANE, LEEBRON!”
I basically stole this from How About We.
If he’s a scoundrel and she’s a princess, and the sexual tension is becoming too much and you’re in outer space: Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back
If he’s a deputy chief of staff and she’s his secretary and it takes 7 years to get together: the entirety of The West Wing
If they’re lesbian dinosaurs: Jurassic Park
If he’s a dinosaur and she’s a dinosaur and they’re married and have dinosaur babies and also are muppets: Dinosaurs
If muppets: The Muppet Movie
If he’s an 8 year old Chinese boy and he’s a professor of archeology: Indiana Jones: Temple of Doom
If he’s going through pon farr and she is leading an expedition to the Genesis planet and we all know that was rape but let’s not talk about it: Star Trek III: The Search for Spock
If he loves her but she insists they’ll have to be in love in secret: The Royal Tenenbaums.
If he’s just so self-obsessed and so is she despite being beautiful and oh my god we’re both just so miserable despite having otherwise first world lives: Just any Wes Anderson movie fuck you.
If she loves quiche and books and isn’t fat and he isn’t dating her: First three seasons of 30 Rock
If she loves quiche and books and is fat and he is dating her: Angel, probably. They both probably watch that together because they’re just cliched miserable fatties who have found happiness in each other’s nerd folds and just watch all of Joss Whedon until they die of diabetes.
If he’s Jewish and she wants to control every aspect of his life: The Hebrew Hammer, or whatever she wants.
If he is a whiney baby and she is softer than sand, m’lady: Star Wars prequels
If they both think they’re so freakin smart and the world can’t go on without them spreading their genes: Children of Men
If he is a Green Lantern and she is a Hawk Girl: Justice League
If he is a film producer and she is an aspiring model/actress: porn
If he is a teacher and she is a cheerleader with poor grades: porn
If she is a nubile teen and he likes to watch her via webcam: porn
If he is a high government official and she is 10 women of prime breeding age: Dr. Strangelove
If he is a phlegmatic everyman and she is Big Brother: 1984. I guess that’s a book.
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
The Louvre Museum has 8.5 million visitors per year. This blog was viewed about 75,000 times in 2011. If it were an exhibit at the Louvre Museum, it would take about 3 days for that many people to see it.
Today I found myself in a very familiar situation. Someone’s brother/sister/friend/self is thinking of going to law school.
“No!” Evan yelled, as the patrons of Inversion coffee looked up slightly to see what the commotion was, especially that one cute girl who was like totally checking him out. “Don’t do that!”
“Because the legal economy is shit. It isn’t a guaranteed job. Unless you know exactly what you want to do, or are going to a very top law school, you’re risking throwing away lots of time and money.”
“Well what’s a good job for someone with a degree in History.”
I don’t know.
Twitter had some ideas, though.
Well, right now I’m doing it backwards.
First is supposed to come the attempt at fulfilling the dream career. Work for the Thresher forever? Opinion journalism? Comedy writing?
Then, if that fails, go for the pragmatic moneymaking operation with the lifelong goal of a steady, if possibly rewarding, career. Law school!
Of course, I did it backwards. So here I am, a member of the Texas bar (once they get my check) trying to freelance write and fulfill my eudaimonic purpose.
But first I have to face the same problem I always have: Getting my butt in the chair and freakin’ writing. (Not to mention all the half-written blog entires)
So what is the plan C after the plan A after the plan B? I guess Twitter has the answer: History teacher.