Ingredients: WHEY, CANOLA OIL, MILK, MILK PROTEIN CONCENTRATE, MALTODEXTRIN , SODIUM PHOSPHATE, CONTAINS LESS THAN 2% OF WHEY PROTEIN CONCENTRATE, SALT, LACTIC ACID, SODIUM ALGINATE, MUSTARD FLOUR, WORCESTERSHIRE SAUCE (VINEGAR, MOLASSES, CORN SYRUP, WATER, SALT, CARAMEL COLOR, GARLIC POWDER, SUGAR, SPICES, TAMARIND, NATURAL FLAVOR), SORBIC ACID AS A PRESERVATIVE, MILKFAT, CHEESE CULTURE, OLEORESIN PAPRIKA (COLOR), ANNATTO (COLOR), NATURAL FLAVOR, ENZYMES.
On the Next Episode of Things That Are Different: BATMAN vs. CRAFTSMAN 12-VOLT 3/8″ CORDLESS DRILL
As I was telling my wife just last night, it’s too early in the year for Southern California to suffer through any major wildfires.
Tonight I will inform her of Dewey’s unstoppable campaign against Truman.
(Above: the LA Times’ photography staff doing amazing work on fire coverage, as always.)
I don’t know whether our community will make a ‘high end video game’ which is free software, but I am sure that if you try, you can stretch your taste for games so that you will enjoy the free games that we have developed.
My theory: Richard Stallman once played Desert Bus in good faith. All the way through. Tapping the keyboard every three seconds so he didn’t drive off the road. Watching the miles tick by. Counting the occasional cacti or tumbleweed. Hours went by. He kept on driving, just knowing there would be a grand surprise waiting for him after all that effort. Then he got to Tucson. And his reward was… he got to turn around and drive back to Las Vegas.
“Penn and Teller. Those fuckers. Someday I’ll ruin them.”
Someday begins now.
Bear gets into home, steals stuffed bear.
LACONIA, N.H. -A black bear walked into a New Hampshire house through an open door, ate two pears and a bunch of grapes, took a drink from the family fishbowl and grabbed a stuffed bear on its way out the door. Mary Beth Parkinson said the bear apparently took advantage of the open outside door to get into her kitchen Tuesday in Laconia, about 20 miles north of Concord. She thinks the garage door going up scared the bear enough that it fled the house.
In two weeks, a manila envelope will arrive at this home. In this envelope will be photos of the bear sticking the family’s toothbrushes up its butt.
Dear Mr. Kotter,
Epstein could not write a post for his blog today on account of Epstein was busy taking soup to the little old ladies who live down at the senior’s citizen and cannot get their own soup. Therefore he did not have time to write a post, not even one that upsets the food blogging people. Next week, Epstein will make up for this oversight by pissing off some Canadians.
Although Epstein did not write a post for his blog, he did watch this terrific parody of Fight Club as if it were written by Jane Austen, and also he tried to make a baby. Erps, never mind that last part, Epstein doesn’t even have a girlfriend! Dinner was grilled BBQ chicken and sweet corn on the cob. Epstein enjoyed the corn quite a lot!
Also, Mr. Kotter, please tell Barbarino he can’t have no ‘iPad’ because it’s 1978 and it ain’t been invented yet. Epstein promises to explain the whole mise en ecene — and tie it into the wildly flowering Apple/Google rift that promises to suck us all into a corporate apocalypse (morelike “aSUCKalypse” amirite?!?) that eventually leads to that bleak, dystopian future we’ve been waiting for as long as we’ve been waiting for jetpacks — in a special paper which he will write tomorrow on the bus on the way to school, and then stuff up his ass and blow it out your ear.
Oh dear, Epstein has the Tourette’s. Sorry for this going on so long, Mr. Kotter. BTW, Epstein saw you on the late night poker show the other night and he says you definitely look better with a mustache.
Do we know each other?
“Yes, we do know each other. We communicate not infrequently on a broad range of topics, of which we are in general agreement much of the time. Hello!”
Hello! I still can’t place your face…
“We communicate on The Internet, a vast and powerful network of peoples stretching throughout the entire plugged-in world! That is where we communicate!”
“I knew you’d come around. Like I was telling you recently, Ralph Malph never wore the letter sweater on ‘Happy Days,’ Potsie Weber wore the letter sweater: it said his name, ‘Potsie,’ right above the number, in bold blockscript.”
“Yes, you’re correct, it was actually his nickname. Potsie’s real first name was Warren. Warren ‘Potsie’ Weber was his full name. He worked at Cunningham Hardware, which was, of course, the store owned and operated by Howard Cunningham, the father of Potsie’s best friend, Richie. Actually, check that, Potsie didn’t just work at the store, he was the assistant manager of the hardware store.”
I don’t have any idea…
“You know how I know that?”
…what you’re going on…
“Because of The Internet! Also? When I normally talk to you I am practically NAKED.”
“The other thing to remember about Potsie is that while people thought he was dumb, he was accepted into medical school. Was Ralph Malph accepted into medical school? No fucking way. Ralph Malph! Look, I know that a lot of people are going to come out and say Ralph Malph > Potsie, because of all the funny jokes and such, and also because Potsie Weber was kind of a tool most of the time, mainly because of the way that Anson Williams played him and also because the writers sort of forgot that they originally created him to be kind of smart, but I am going to come out right now on the Potsie side of the Malph/Weber line. Draw my line in the sand, as it were.”
Who are you again?
“Just like that episode where they were roommates in college, and made a line down the middle of the apartment, and Ralph had to climb in the window and Potsie couldn’t use the bathroom. Or maybe it was the other way around. In either case I’m planting my flag here, on the Potsie side. PROUD POTSIE MAN HERE. Go on, tough guy. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Hey, I gotta split, there’s a John Mayer concert and…
“You know what’s really sad? Potsie was never loved by his father. Nobody remembers this now, but they hung a lot of his early jokes on his miserable relationship with his dad. And then he was rejected by his original best friend, Richie Cunningham, who became the best friend of Arthur Fonzarelli almost by necessity, since Henry Winkler had created the show’s first breakout star, and the nominal leading character (Richie) had to then be increasingly attached to the Fonzie character to provide better ratings opportunities.”
“In so doing, however, Potsie was shunted off to Malphland, a veritable dumpster heap in the Cunningham-centric Milwaukee suburb where the program was set, perhaps only one step above minor characters like Bill “Sticks” Downey, the Negro Drummer played by Jack Baker, who went on to a career in porn before sadly dying of complications stemming from HIV, or Chuck Cunningham, Richie’s older brother, who appeared during the show’s first season and then disappeared, never to be mentioned again. Potsie. They almost did this to Potsie Weber.”
“Look, I don’t want to take up all your time, I’m just saying: connect the dots, man. Connect the dots. It’s like I tell my old lady all the time: somedays you wake up and you feel like Potsie Webber in a Ralph Malph world. You really do, man. You really do.
Stop doing this.
The People of the Internets What Don’t Take Pictures of Every Hamburger They Eat
(PS – Fair is fair; if you tell me to stop blogging about Justin Bieber, I will do it as a grand and flouncy gesture of goodwill.)