Archive for August, 2006

Welcome to Dead House

     A week ago I moved into my house at school this year. It is located about a half-hours walk from the south edge of campus. Kind of far away, but that is only where the problems begin. This house has systematically spited me at every turn. Simply diabolical in nature, I can only assume that this house is the spawn of Satan, sent from Hell to punish me for my multitude of sins.


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My opinion of Jon Stewart is very similar to my opinion of Richard Nixon. My enduring yet entirely heterosexual love for Nixon grew out of my observation of the boiling hatred he inspired in all of my college professors. I figured, “Hey, if these schmucks hate him so much, he can’t be all that bad.” On the other hand, everyone I talk to loves Jon Stewart. From the praise that is continually lavished upon this individual, I expected the laughter he might induce to literally blow my intestines out through my stomach wall. I’ve been forced to conclude that no one who attracts such widespread and unanimous praise can be all the great (I call this “The Jim Carrey Effect”).


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Pissed Off at the Pizza Pub

Today we salute you, Mr. Bar Drummer Guy. Your obsessive compulsive attempt to keep the beat to every song with your hands beating on the bar pisses off not only those who can hear your inability to do so, but also seven people in either direction that can feel your pulsating lackluster performance. The blonde girl across the bar with fake boobs is also (surprise surprise) not impressed. Congratulations.

Also, I would like to thank the bartender for not filling up my pint glass to the very top. It was a good three-quarters of an inch short of the top, mind you. Ok, a quarter of an inch, that’s acceptable for an American pint of beverage. However, I have expectations based on my experience in Europe, where they make every beer overflow so that you’re 100% sure you’re getting your money’s worth. In American bars, they assume the attitude that we don’t care about that empty space at the top of the glass. If you buy a twelve ounce can of soda, would you be pissed if you learned that it was only ten or eleven ounces? Say you are losing one ounce out of every pint, that means that you are losing one beer for every sixteen that you pay for. I’m pissed, and next time I’m at the bar, I’m going to demand that I get a free beer, because they robbed me of that beer, and holding them to only one is letting them off easy, because they probably owe me more than that.

Clint would like to throw in his two cents as well (and yes, I am talking about myself in the third person). I had just finished my beer, when the bartender walked by. I said nothing, figuring that she would be back in a few minutes anyhow. Boy was I wrong. She decided that at 11:15 pm, it was time to wipe down all the tables and put up all the seats at the tables around the bar. I mean every fucking seat. I’m pretty sure they were closing at 2:00 am, so to put up all the seats before one really made no sense to me. Especially if you’re the only fucking bartender. So I sat and waited until she finished wiping down every table and putting up every seat. It took literally fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes during which no one was behind the bar. I should have taken advantage of her not doing her job and helped myself to several beers, but I guess I didn’t feel like being that much of an asshole. Seriously though, what ever happened to customer service? What a skank.

Even a Yahoo! Local user agrees with us.

Listen: Radiohead, “I am Citizen Insane.”

Quote: “One convenient locations……in Africa.” – Billywitchdoctor.com

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     Lately I’ve been watching Fox News in order to see if they are truly “fair and balanced” as they claim. My results may be placed in another post, but so far I have noticed one thing about Fox newscasters. They all look like total goobers. You would expect that a news network would try to put their best foot forward and have some decent looking people on the air. And if not decent looking, at least average. But it seems as though Fox News found the goofiest people they could and put them in front of the camera. I decided to do a comparison of Fox newscasters vs. CNN newscasters to illustrate my point.


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The Revenge?

I have recently returned from one of my annual sojourns to that most affordable, convenient, and truly “gangsta”-ridden of amusement parks that we refer to simply as “Dorney.” Of course, the seldom-used by nevertheless official name of this park is “Dorney Park and Wildwater Kingdom,” but it’s as unpopular and awkward as “The New York Football Giants.”


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     Going to college in another state affords me certain opportunities to find out what people call things in other areas of the country. For example, while normal people call carbonated beverages ‘crack in a can,’ some call them ‘soda’ or the incredibly dumb ‘pop.’ There is, however, one subject that has the potential to produce a rift in the country, the likes of which have not been seen since the Civil War. Thus, we get into the second greatest debate of all time.

     [Author’s Sidebar: The first greatest debate of all time is, of course, the Original Doritos Saga. For a full summary of said debate click on that there hyperlink.]


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The FedEx Conspiracy

I have probably seen the FedEx logo at least 5-10 times per week for as long as I can remember, just driving around, coming down the street or into the place where I happen to be working, or in commercials or occasionally on a package that I have received. But just recently, I noticed something peculiar about the FedEx logo.

I should preface this with how I have always considered myself to be pretty loyal to UPS, FedEx’s chief competitor in domestic shipping in the United States. I have worked at UPS over the last three winter breaks, helping out during the busy holiday season, and have grown fond of the image they have managed to create and the dominance of the markets of which I am a part. Let’s just put it this way: I sought out UPS and offered my highly qualified set of skills to them, and they were happy with my performance, and I’m kind of a big deal (which goes without saying), especially in the residential and light commercial shipping business. I didn’t seek out FedEx, because as far as the hierarchy of companies goes, it’s kind of like being a greeter at Wal-Mart when you could be a lead programmer for Microsoft. Ok, maybe not that bad, but in my estimation, it was close.

A couple of weeks ago at work, I saw a FedEx logo and noticed something strange about it. Ok, maybe strange isn’t the right word. Something ingenious.

Do you see it? Yeah, at first glance, it just looks like it’s FedEx. But wait, there’s something else. Something beckoning for your eyes to find it. “Please, notice me,” it’s saying. And once you notice it, you’ll never unnotice it.

Yeah, it’s an arrow in between the ‘E’ and the ‘x.’ It’s amazing. I wish I could meet and shake the hand of the marketing firm that came up with the idea to put an arrow in there. And you know what, maybe no one thought of it, it just happened. To this day, the FedEx Corporation may not know about this arrow that subtly graces it’s logo on every package, every truck, every commercial, every billboard.

To test my theory, I asked the FedEx guy that drops off packages at work every day. Believe it or not, he had no idea there was an arrow in the logo. And he said that he has been working for FedEx for six years. That’s true, ask him yourself. And now he knows.

Ever since I have noticed the arrow, the symbol of progress, of thrifty delivery and happy service, I have felt an unusual preference for FedEx despite my originally fierce loyalty to UPS. It’s no longer “what can Brown do for you?” Now, I just want my packages to go in a big white truck, with an arrow on the side, an arrow to the future, a speedy symbol of sure delivery. I don’t want to be asked a question, FedEx knows where to go (to the right; that’s where my shipments are going.)

Listen: Buckcherry, “Crazy Bitch”

Quote: “And now you know, and knowing is half the battle.” – G.I. Joe

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Ghost Ride Da Whip

If you’re looking for some entertainment of the YouTube persuasion, try a search for “ghost ride.” You might come up with something as hysterical as this:

The “ghost ride” has been popularized by the E-40 rap ballad “Tell Me When to Go.” The song can be heard in the background of many of these ghost ride clips.
The outro goes a little something like this:

[x4] Ghost-ride the whip
[x8] Now… Scrape
[x4] Put your stunna shades on
[x2] Now… Gas, brake, dip, dip
[x4] Shake them dreads
[x4] Let me see you show your grill
[x4] Now… Thizz face
[x4] Doors open, mayn
[x4] Now… Watch ’em swang
[x2] Go stupid, go (dumb, go dumb)

Simply stunning.

Listen: E-40, “Tell Me When to Go”

Quote: “Wait what was that band’s name? Crossblade? Switchblade? Switchfade? Crossfire? Switchfire? Crossbalance? Switchtreble? Crosstail? Tailblade? Tailfire? Fireblade? Fadecrosser? Crossy McFaderson? Bladeflame? Crossflame? Campfire? Boy Scout Troop 401? Scoutblade? Knifeblade? Knifefade? Bladerunner? Highlander? Bladefire? Switchflame? Flameblade? Dogsong? Hatchetblade? Hatchetfade? Hatchetknife? Axefade? Axebreed? Knifebleed? Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch? Crossbreed? Cross-pollinate? Foilfade? Crisscross? Crossing Swords? Crossways? Longways? Diagonalfade? Horizontalbalance?” – Clint and Matt debating a name of a band in the mall parking lot. It was Crossfade, by the way, and it remains the worst bandname ever.

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Irritating Customers [Updated]

On the job, everyone has to deal with irate, impossible and idiotic customers. It’s just a fact of life. Everyone knows it, everyone complains about it, and no one seems to own up to the fact that they are this type of customer. I have to deal with them all the time and I know for a fact that Matt does as well. These are some of their stories:


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Vote Now: Your favorite crappy joke

Here at Ranty McRanterson we have been having problems beating back our subscriber base and keeping our post comments in the hundreds, rather than thousands. Perhaps it is the price we pay for being named the top blog in Blogosphere magazine and earning the “Best Content” award from Web 2.0. This said, I propose to involve our vast fanbase in an interactive post:

List your favorite over-used joke. You know, the joke that puts the douche in douche bag.

My favorite: Upon the accidental ingestion of an insect, said joke teller remarks, “Hey, no big deal. It’s a good source of protein”

hahahahahahahahahaha, thanks.

Listen: Stars, “Set yourself on fire”

Quote: “Wanti wanti can’t get it, getti getti no want it.” – Some Rastafarian

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