Fashionable Males

I was reading this article today about two workers at a California Staples who were attacked by gang members for wearing red shirts. This got me to thinking about how stringent the dress codes are for various gangs, as well as giving me an idea for some new Star Trek TOS fanfic.

Now say you're in the Crips, or some other gang whose identifying color is blue. You would seem to have it pretty good, clothes-wise. Throw on some old jeans and a denim jacket (preferably with a tasteful "Steal Your Face" logo airbrushed on) and you're all set.

The Crips are a very fashion-friendly gang.

But what of the Bloods? Sure a red shirt is easy enough to come by, but what about pants? Can you wear blue jeans, or does that indicate something else; a double-agent? A part-timer?

Mah gang sign says "Unnngggghhh..."

What can you wear to cover your little leggies, then? Must you always wear half a Santa outfit or a Starfleet uniform? What about acid-washed jeans? They're only slightly blue, but very unstylish unless you happen to be Sinbad.

UPDATE!
After some intense Google image searching, I discovered that apparently the Bloods only have to wear predominantly red clothing. So a red shirt with blue jeans is a-ok. As is a red headscarf and a Gallagher t-shirt, apparently. I would have included that picture but the site had disabled hotlinking images, so you'll just have to imagine.

Well, problem solved, so it would seem. I suppose now the issue becomes: can the Crips, then, wear red pants or are they restricted to just blue? How quickly the tables have turned!

But that discussion is for another time.

The saddest cat in the history of all things ever

 

This cat turned up on our porch around midnight tonight (our neighborhood is full of strays), and if this isn't the saddest cat you've ever seen, I can't even imagine. I know you're not supposed to feed strays and all, but I had to get this guy something. A bit of fatty roast beef can't hurt.

Death takes a holiday; colds work overtime

This being Memorial Day weekend, a four-day weekend at that, I thought it would be a wonderful time to contract a cold. On the upside, my four-day weekend became five-days long; on the downside, I feel like my head is made of cotton candy.

And not the good, circus kind either; that hard, mylar-wrapped insulation you find alongside astronaut dinners in the gift shop during field trips.

So, in the spirit of not knowing exactly what it is I'm doing, here are my Top Five Colds of Modern Times:

5. Any given NyQuil ad

I've been taking Tylenol Cold; still, I prefer NyQuil.

4. Evil Ryu vs Fat Albert

Knocked out cold!

3. Mr Freeze (fr. Batman & Robin)

Cool pahty! Chill owt!

2. Hello Goodbye

You say goodbye and Ice, hey, hello.

1. Snow

A-licky boom-boom down, indeed.

Surprisingly Bored

I was searching YouTube a few minutes ago, you know, to find videos of cats falling asleep, when I noticed in the search results that lately it's becoming difficult to find videos that no one has seen before.

I don't mean ones that have less than a hundred or so views, I mean nobody. Zero. Not even the people who uploaded them.

Well, I found one, and it's as exciting as you probably think a video that has been shunned by its creator would be.

The only upside to the video is that the bit of dialogue at the end could be used by a DJ somewhere as the intro to a great mix.

But why even show a crap video with no redeeming value? Because I think floating around out there is a non-crap video with some redeeming value which no one has seen. And it's fun to have something to look for when you're bored.

My 2006/2007 Premiership Prediction Results

Nine months ago today, on August 14th, 2006, I impregnated a slip of paper with my predictions for the upcoming English Premiership season. And today, with the season having ended just yesterday, the fruits of my labor are born.

The first column of numbers in the chart below shows what I predicted the final standings would be; the second column, what they actually are; and the third, how many places off I was. Below the chart are some averages based on certain segments of the results.

I did pretty well on the order of relegation, though that's probably the easiest to guess, given that the most likely to go down are the ones who've just come up from the Championship.

I think I did okay picking who would end up mid-table, but the actual order of mid-table teams is probably an art unto itself. Actually, if I hadn't overestimated Newcastle and underestimated Aston Villa, my average would have been much better.

Thinking Manchester would not make the top 4 was, for me, wishful thinking, as was predicting Arsenal to be the champions. But I made the whole list on a lark to begin with, so not too shabby.

And for one last bit of rationalization, if you switch Arsenal with Man U and Villa with Newcastle, my average for the whole list drops to just 1.7 places off per club. I should be drawing a salary for this.

I'll likely make another set of predictions just before the start of the 2007/08 season; this time based on reality rather than my own prejudices, though. Having said that, I'll probably have Sunderland coming in at 6th.

Maybe I should just make two predictions then. One that I wish it would be (come on, Portsmouth!), and one where I'm honest (Berbatov could really help Arsenal out).

Johnny Shameless

Last night I was thinking, "Why am I not famous?" I mean, it used to be that you had to do something to be famous, but that's no longer the case. Society has moved past such outdated conventions as accomplishment, or even interest.

But I didn't want to turn artsick into a "get famous" site; one where I mercilessly slag and embarrass celebrities or write flamebait political commentary. No, I needed a different site for that. That site would be johnnyshameless.com.

Surprisingly, it's available. Perhaps more surprisingly, Johnny Shameless is the name of a Singaporean death metal band with a very low GG-Allin-cover-to-original-song ratio.

Honestly, I don't know what to make of them. I mean, how do you judge a GG Allin cover band?

"Yeah the lead singer flung poo at us, but there was no passion." There's nothing sadder than a lazy poo-fling.

From the YouTube comments for the video below, they're pretty hardcore.



Check out this response by the poster (who I assume is a band member):

hahaha Scumfuck86 u are so lame. If we suck that much and it really bother you, i suggest you dont watch it. I'm not pointing a gun at your head forcing you to watch our crap videos. If we come close as suck as MCR, well at least MCR are selling thoudsands of records. What do u sell? cheese cake? fucking lame shite. God is gay my friend.

That's right, motherfuckers, you sell cheese cake! And God is gay, apparently, though that sounded like an afterthought.

So now I feel stuck. If I make this site, will some Singaporean come to my house and half-heartedly fling some poo in my direction? I suppose that's a risk I'll have to take.

But also, what I'm just wading into over-saturated territory? What's another celebrity/politico slamfest in the vast wasteland that's already been established?

I suppose there's always my back-up site: lazypooflinger.com. Now that is sure to make me famous.

Say what you will

I'm a big fan of making up quotes. Not of attributing statements to real people who didn't say them, but of writing a quote myself and giving it a fictional source.

I read The Sun magazine (not the British tabloid, but rather a monthly literary magazine for the liberal and, apparently, cancer-prone demographic) and the back of every issue has a page of quotes by famous people. They call them Sunbeams. Awww.

After reading these every month for the past few years, it dawned on me that a lot of quotes are only considered great because of the person who said them.

If the guy behind the counter at Arby's said to you one day, "We have nothing to fear but fear itself," and no one had said that before, you wouldn't be blown away would you?

You'd just be thinking, "That's great, guy from Ukraine, where's mah Big Montana?" Or you might even be a little scared. Nothing to fear but fear itself? That's borderline serial killer talk.

We have nothing to fear but fear itself.
Jeffrey Dahmer (1992)

That changes the whole feeling. Or how about:

Time is the inconvenience we live by.
Richard P. Fawles, 1st President of Harvard (1821)

I made that up. There's no Richard P. Fawles; the first president of Harvard was Henry Dunster, and that was in the mid-17th century. And a quick Google search of that quote tells me it's never been said before in history.

But it seems quotable enough; takes on a big theme and boils it down to a pithy little saying. It also makes sense, but not too much sense. And it can be used as an excuse, which is one of the best things about quotes.

Without any sort of supporting argument you can use quotes to defend all sorts of mistakes and lapses in judgement. The biggest fuck-ups you'll ever meet have a quote for every situation. No, wait:

The biggest fuck-ups you'll ever meet have a quote for every situation.
Maurice Bertrand-Dechevaux in Boulets et Poulets (1976)

On the deaths (and lives) of English footballers

It's not humorous, of course, when someone dies, but whenever an old English footballer passes I can never wait to read the quotes and tributes.

Invariably, 90% of what's said is about how well they played or how fast they could run or, when they can't think of anything better to say, how they "got everyone involved". Nothing about them as a person, unless you can put it in footballing terms or relate it to their career.

Alan Ball, who was on the 1966 England side that won the World Cup, recently died and every article I read about it just blows my mind.

You would think that he did nothing his entire life but be enthusiastic. That's the word I read most. He played, he managed, and he was enthusiastic. And it's not even a compliment, when you think about it, just a general description of your demeanor.

Did anyone who knew him ever ask what he liked to do after a match, or in the off-season? Did he simply roam the streets, running around enthusiastically, being scrappy and workmanlike?

There was an interview with Ball's son the day after he died and even he couldn't come up with a non-football related anecdote.

Interviewer [very somber]: And what's the best memory you have of your father?
Son: Well, this one time, we were playing football out back of the house, and...I'm sorry...
Interviewer: No, I understand, take your time.
Son: He...he was keeping the ball away from me. We must have been out there for four hours, at least.
Interviewer: Did you ever get the ball off him?
Son [pauses, looks off into the distance]: ...no. No I couldn't take the ball off him.
Interviewer: And how old were you?
Son: Eight or nine. That's my favorite memory of him. He was so enthusiastic.
Interviewer: Enthusiastic, yes.

It's not like that with European footballers. Whenever I watch a Bundesliga match the commentators always point out strange facts like, "Mertesacker missed Bremen's last two home games because he was making final edits to his new book on black holes."

I mean, half the Brazilian teams back in the 70's were licensed medical doctors, and I'm pretty sure Platini discovered the source of some Kenyan river.

What I'm saying is, English footballers need to become more well-rounded. They need to end this cycle of boiler-plate tributes and have some outside interests. Be enthusiastic, but take the boots off sometimes.