Genius in Advertising

I was watching the show Outsourced on NBC the other night. For those of you that haven't seen it, it's a show about an American that gets sent to India as part of his company's outsourcing. The guy runs a call center for novelty products, things like funny t-shirts and gag gifts. Obviously, hilarity ensues when the Indian and American cultures clash, throw in a budding romance and you have the making for...well, mediocre TV at best.

In any case, during the commercial break last week they showed a spot for the new Outsourced shop on NBC.com. They are selling the funny items the characters talk about on the show to actual real life people. They've even made calling into operators fun by making you think you'll possible get to talk to the people on the show (who all play telemarketers). Think about it, it's pretty fucking genius and pretty fucking sickening. Now, NBC can basically run a 30 minute commercial for all the crap on their website and throw in a couple jokes and hot ladies for entertainment. And I bet it works. Wonderfully. At least as long as the show remains somewhat interesting. Now I'm not an idiot, I realize product placement is not a new concept, anyone who's watched an episode of Bones on FOX can see they are trying to sell you midsize SUV crossovers. But even that is once or twice an episode, not the whole fucking reason for the shows being. Now I'm starting to wonder if the show was created solely for the purpose of selling, which I suppose is the point of ANY TV show (which is again kind of a sickening thought). I wonder if the concept started in a room of sinister looking old guys in dark suits thinking about 'how we can make an infomercial entertaining", and the rest of the shows structure was built around that concept?

It's a pretty pessimistic stance to take I'm sure. But I don't really trust ad executives or CEOs anyway. Of course, they do annoying shit like this, so who can blame me.

The Big List Of Things I Would Have Sex With If I Could...

iPad
iPod
Air conditioning
"Art of Glow" app for the iPad
Madden franchising
Comfy robes
Target Field
Twin’s Saturday uniforms
D.C. shoes hoodies
Everwood season 4
DVR
The color blue
Clicky-top pens
Dugouts
Marlboro Lights
Hulu.com
Ruffley skirts
Thongs
Whale tails
MLB Network
Coke Zero
Limited edition Pirates of the Caribbean Berry Bounty chap stick
Urban outfitters plain t-shirts
Lacoste cologne
Spinach and Artichoke dip (warm not hot, otherwise it’d burn my weiner)
Frozen double stuffed Oreos
Long lunch breaks
Flonase nasal spray (anyone who has allergies will thank me for this one...)
1st smoke of the day
Fantasy football and baseball
Norton literature anthologies
Insulin (keeps me alive!!!)
Ibuprophen
Stocking caps
Pigtails
Girls with pigtails and stocking caps (throw in a pair of baggy cords and a spaghetti strap tank top and I will cum in her belly button…)

What would you have sex with?

No Shit

I just saw a commercial on tv for Cialis, which is a drug for erectile disfunction. The guy doing the VoiceOver says "if you experience a loss in vision or an erection lasting more than four hours, stop takin Cialis and call your doctor.

That's kind of the obvious statement of all obvious statements.

I want to know who the person is that says "I've had this boner for five hours and I can't really see anymore, but I think I'll try another Cialis and see if that helps."

Reduce, Reuse,...

It's the little things people, that will get our world through this...

In my effort to be a better "planetary citizen" I decided to find little ways to help save the planet.

For instance, the other night I was eating soup and when I finished I decided to pee. In a genius move I used the napkin from dinner to dap away the excess pee. It's silly using a paper towel AND a piece of toilet paper.

Some suggestions I have for you:

If you get no ear wax one day, try saving the cotton swab for the next day. In fact, I say, until there's mold growing on that bitch, use away...

T-shirts make great headbands when they're too small to wear

Washing a dish for each use is overrated. If I eat pasta out of a dish I say it's okay to eat your after dinner ice cream from the same dish. It was YOUR dinner and it's just going to mix in your belly anyway. Plus, you could get a bonus bit of pasta sauce on your ice cream. It's like italian fusion...

If your going to have a big BBQ, talk to your local animal shelter to see if they have leftover meat. No sense in shopping when there's perfectly good dog and ferret going to waste.

Use leftover cigarette filters to replace your home air filter. You know how many butts are thrown away each year? Tons.

Use your small children to plow your lawn into a garden. Veggies are really healthy, and the home gardening trend has never been more popular. Plus, this country was built on slave labor, so you can teach them about capitalism and give em a leg up on kindergarten. Plus, they'll probably be really good at dodgeball from working outside all summer. Then when they become professional athletes, they can pay you back for all the shit you had to buy them when they were kids.

These are just some suggestions, be creative. And remember, it's all for the earth so there are really no bad ideas.

LLWS

It’s that time of year again. The time where every single minute of ESPN, ESPN2, and ESPN18 is taken up by a single sporting event. An event that has no business being on TV in the first place. An event so stupid and pointless, I don’t know one person who is excited by it or talks about it the day after around the water cooler.

I am talking about the Little League World Series.

I fucking hate it. I loathe it. I want to murder it with a rusty spoon and throw its body into a wood chipper. I want to leave it in a room with R. Kelly so he can pee on it. I want to make it bang a fat chick.

My disdain for the Series begins with the parents. Those pom-pom waving, sparkly wig-wearing, cowbell-clanging stage parents. Oh how I hate those cow bells. This is one time where the cure is not even less cowbell. It’s NO FUCKING cowbell. Anyone caught ringing a bell should have their hand cut off. Try annoying everyone around you with a hook for a hand, it’s not as easy. You ever seen captain hook waving a cowbell like a complete fucking idiot? Of course not, he’s got a hook.

I also really don’t like the kids that play the game. Actually it’s not even their fault. I mean, most 12 year old kids are pretty douchey anyway, but it’s the way ESPN decides to broadcast the games that really irks me. I hate that they show those little snippets of information about the kids, like, “hey, little Tommy from Arkansas has a favorite color. And it’s blue!” Like anyone outside of little Tommy and his parents really care. In fact Tommy is a douche and his parents probably don’t even care.

But by far the worst thing in the whole broadcast is how ESPN shows the little leaguers pitch speed equivalent to what major leaguers throw. Like if the kid throws a 50 mph fastball, it shows up as 92 mph because the reaction time of the pitch is the same as a 92 mph fastball. Horseshit. I’m sure the reaction time is the same, but anyone who has ever stood at a plate and tried to hit a ball will tell you there’s a huge fucking difference between a 92 and a 50 mph fastball. You can’t even SEE a 92 mph fastball. Plus there’s the fear factor. Nobody is scared to get hit by a lobbed pitch from a douchey 12 year old, but everyone would be a little nervous to step into a big league batters box. It’s not even close.

Revolution

I was at Jay's place tonight and on my way out I saw a huge centipede crawl across the kitchen floor. Naturally I stomped the shit out of it. I bragged to Jay in the next room how I conquered the mighty beast. He came in to take a look and chastised me for the tiny stature of the bug.

"That's the smallest bug I've ever seen".

Irrelevant Jay. It's small now, but what if that bug grows up to become the natural born general of all centipedes and leads The Great Bug Revolution of 2023? Where all bugs rise up against the humans and make us their slaves, working in the honey hives for all eternity. Kind of like that stupid whiny bitch-kid Arnold has to protect in the first Terminator.

Or worse, what if the "small" bug crawls up on Jay in the middle of the night while he's sleeping and leaves an egg sack like this.

So you're welcome Jay. And you're welcome humanity. My very rational fear of bugs has saved us all.

Nelly, I Love You, and I Need You

I’m in a real dilemma here, a head-scratcher. I’m a hairy guy, as anyone who’s ever met me will tell you, except for on top of my head, the hair there seems to have been receding since I was 12.

Everyday to work I wear jeans and socks, but since it’s been 95 degrees here in Minnesota for the whole summer, I don’t want to wear jeans after work. However, if you wear shorts, you’re not supposed to wear socks and shoes, according to every girl I’ve ever met. The only acceptable thing to do is to put on some flip flops.

Here is my dilemma, when I go to put on sandals I still have a “sock ring” around my ankles, which is pretty much embedded in my leg hair at this point. So if I put on sandals, it still looks like I’m wearing socks anyway. A hair sock, if you will.

So what am I supposed to do? Suffer in jeans with a sweaty sack all night? Go out to the bar in my hair socks?

This is how Obama must feel when he tries to solve the conflict in the Middle East.

Dear God...

I just licked the wrapper of the candy bar I was eating.

I didn't realize I was doing it until I was done. I was like a rabid dog. There are bits of chocolate stuck to my beard.

I feel like the fattest man ever right now for for my gluttonous act, and I don't think I've ever felt as guilty about eating something...But it was so damn good.

Introducing...T-Roy

We have a friend named Troy, who we affectionately call The T-Roy (well, because he calls himself that). T-Roy is responsible for more great stories and one liners than anyone else I know. Point in check...

We were in the front yard of my friend Jay's house, looking at a tree that recently rotted and fell down in a storm. Jay was under the impression that the tree had termites. T-Roy took one look at the tree and said, "That tree doesn't have Termites, it's got beatles."
Jay says, "Well if I bring the wood to my back yard for fire wood, am I going to bring the beatles with it and infest the other trees in my yard?"
T-Roy pauses for like 30 seconds and with a strait face finally says, "It doesn't matter, that tree was in a condition it should have never been in."

And then he walks away...

Maybe He's Making Up For the Whole Diabetes Thing?

I just did one of the coolest things I've ever done. And really, it's probably one of the coolest things I've ever seen.

I successfully separated the top piece of a Pop Tart from the bottom piece.

I was left with one so-so bottom part, which I just threw away like the cookie part of an Oreo after I eat the white stuff in the middle, and the most delicious sugar and warm jam top part. It's like the holy grail for fat people like myself. They should have it on the dessert menu at restaurants. I've never been so proud in all my life.

It seems as though God smiles on each of us some days.

Grindin'

I grind my teeth at night. I don’t know I do it, but the dentist seems to think I do. He made me get a mouthpiece (for like $600.00!), made of plastic, that stops my teeth from slowly wearing away to Chiclets. The fun part about the whole mouth guard thing is that now I grind my tongue against the mouthpiece and my tongue is getting pretty beat up. No one is going to want to get head from me with a beat up tongue. This has got to stop.

My whole thing is, why can’t I just stop caring about my teeth all together, have them all pulled, and get dentures. I wouldn’t have to worry about cavities anymore, and brushing will be a thing of the past since I can just take my clean teeth out of a jar on my bedside table. I’m thinking this is a much better way to go. I could even take my teeth out and give some crazy gum-sucky-head move to some lucky hot girl. Something really cool that nobody’s ever heard of (partly because normal toothless people are like 95 years old and don’t think about going down anymore). They could even name the move after me. I prefer “Dayvalingus”, but that’s just me…

There's a Reason I know I Had 18 Items In My Basket

I was at the local grocery establishment yesterday, I only shop for myself so I usually carry around a basket instead of going full cart. At the store they have these self check-out lanes that people can use. I was in line, waiting for my turn, and this lady in back of me starts complaining to me.

“These lines are express lanes, you can’t have 30 items in these lines.”
“Really?” I say, “because there’s no sign that says they're express lanes. Look at that isle right there, it has a sign for express in big lights. And besides, I only have 18 items.”

Fuck you lady.

Get Out of My Head

I used to think that singer Ke$ha was kinda hot in a bat-shit crazy-praying-mantis, fuck-you-then-kill-you, sort of way. But then I saw pictures of her ass, and then she looked like Derek Zoolander posing with "blue steel" for the camera at the MTV music awards. And then I heard her music, and then saw pictures of her frolicking on a beach, looking completely below average with huge shoulders. So, I’m going to go on record and say she is lame and should go away.

Anyone who doesn’t like butter underneath their jelly on a PB&J is just an idiot. I mean, it’s right there in the name. Peanut, butter, and jelly. Butter should also make an appearance on top of all toast, with or without jelly. People that eat dry toast are the lowest form of person. The same goes for people that don’t like mustard on their grilled cheese. Those people should die.

And speaking of jelly. The guy who invented the upside down squeeze bottle with the long, thin opening, is just a fucking genius. He turned a boring task into a chance for art. Every time I get the jelly out in perfect long rows I feel like I just painted the Sistine chapel. I feel like I just decorated the perfect cake on Ace of Cakes. It’s truly a testament to man’s ingenuity. Fuck the iPad.

I love it when I find gas stations that sell Twix ice cream bars. I fucking love those things. I love the little cookie balls mixed with the caramel. A close second is the Snickers ice cream bars, but most places sell those. The absolute worst is when you go into a place that only sells the Snickers ice cream cones. Those things are a fucking joke. If I wanted a cone I’d buy a Drumstick for Christ sakes. Those kind of gas stations really bother me. I purposely avoid them at all costs. Even if I only need to get gas, I’ll drive 5 miles out of my way to one that sells the bars. And when I drive by those cone-serving retards, I flick my cigarette butt at them.

The Brawny man is what is wrong with America. I saw a commercial the other day and the Brawny paper towel guy, who used to be a burly bearded guy, is now a clean shaven 24 year old mountain man. I can only imagine that the people at Brawny thinks this re-design will help them appeal to house moms the world over. Somehow sex will sell those paper towels.

Advantage Dayve

As a diabetic, I try and use my terminal disease to my advantage every chance I get. And why shouldn’t I? YOU don’t have to stick yourself with needles or have to skip dessert. So fuck off if you don’t like it.

In high school I got to show up to class late because I was “in the nurses office getting Tang” for my low blood sugars. I wasn’t really at the nurse, and I had no intention of seeing her. But I got a free tardy pass for life, so I was going to use it. If a meeting at work runs a little long, you can bet I’m going to duck out to “go get a snack before I pass out.”

An unexpected bonus I've discovered is with my sugar tablets I have to carry with me at all times, in case my blood sugars get low for real. These tablets come in a round tube, similar to the size and girth of a roll of quarters. I carry this tube around in my front pocket all the time. So now, if a girl were to say, look down to check out the goods, she'd probably get an eye full. It’s like I’m constantly stuffing my shorts. Awesome.

Although, if I ever did get to make out with said girl, she'd most likely be disappointed…

My Dad Needs My Mom

I stopped at home last night to visit with my old man. My mom's been away for about a week and a half on vacation, and I thought Papa was getting a little bored (seeing as how he called me four times on Wednesday). I took a little stroll through the kitchen to see what kinds of snacks he had for me, since I rarely turn down the chance for free food. Or any food for that matter.

I opened up the pantry and the fridge and all the cupboards, and there was barely a thing left to eat in our home. My dad had decided that he didn't need to go shopping while Ma was away, he'd just eat everything we had in the house instead. Four year old box of crackers? GONE. Ramen noodles? GONE. Freezer burned pork chops? FUCKING DEVOURED.

Seriously, all that was left were some canned veggies, some cream of chicken soup, and a few bottles of salad dressing.

I wonder if my mom knows just how much my old man needs her...

My Conversation at the Bell

I just got back from a Taco Bell run. I love Taco Bell. Love it. I probably go there three times in a slow week. Tonight, I had the dumbest conversation I've ever had in my life. I'm going to let it run in it's entirety, because well, I just don't know what to say. Play...

Spanish Speaking Friendly Taco Bell Employee: Welcome to Taco Bell can I take your order?
Me: I'll have two soft tacos and a hard shell taco, and that's it.
SSFTBE: Any taco sauce or anything to drink?
Me: No.
SSFTBE: Okay. I have two soft shell tacos and a hard shell taco, will that be it?
Me: Yes. That's it.
SSFTBE: Any taco sauce or drink tonight?
Me: What? No.
SSFTBE: Okay. Please pull around to the first window.

I drive up to the window, which is closed. I pull up to the second window.

SSFTBE: That'll be five-thirty-nine. Any taco sauce?
Me(Handing him my credit card): What? Are you fucking with me?
SSFTBE: What?
Me: No taco sauce, thank you.

My Job...

I work for a company here in Minnesota as an account manager. We work with educational publishers to create media and other packaging, and I handle a bunch of divisions that produce Science, technology, and nursing materials. Among other things, my main task is order entry, which sucks worse than anyone could ever know. So I have to find ways to brighten up my day. Little victories. One of my favorite past times is abbreviating. See, we have a limited amount of space in our system to put things like Author name or Title of book into the database, so oftentimes I have to find the best way to get a 35 character title down to 12 spaces. Not easy to do, but it's the most brain activity I get all day. I also have another habit of making my abbreviations as dirty as I possibly can. For instance, today I had the Windows Analysis Toolbox. Pretty simple right, just do your job Dayve and shut the fuck up. Well, I decide it needed to read "ANAL TOOLBOX". I had another one the other day titled Ballistics Assembly Planning for Small Planes. I have no idea what that is, but I thought It'd be a good idea to change it to "BALL ASS SMALL".

I like to think that someone somewhere down the manufacturing line looks at their paperwork and chuckles to themselves.

Perhaps they even get excited to get product from us because the don't know what kind of hilarity I'll pull off next.

I need to get a real job...

Just Another Night With Steve

My brother and I went back home tonight for a quick visit. We were sitting around talking with my dad and my brother asks him what he's doing for the Super Bowl on Sunday. Here's his response.

"I have to referee two games tomorrow night and then I have games Saturday. Sunday I have two games. Hey, what are you guys doing for the Super Bowl?"

Notice he gave us his whole weekend, except for the part we asked him about. And then, like some brain injury patient, he's forgotten what we asked him. Genius.

And when I tell my mom about this story, and how I'm going to write about it later on (and previously we've told her she is a topic of this very popular blog, which she refuses to read), she says "You're blog must be really boring."

In fact, Carolyn, my blog is very popular. In some circles.

But on Second Thought...

One thing I do love about showering in the morning, is right when I'm done, I get to use a Q-tip. Now, I should explain that for the last few years I haven't had to pay for many household items. It's one of the perks to living at home. Things like paper towels, dishes, sheets, and curtains all used to be things I didn't give a fuck about. And I was cool with that arrangement. But now, I have to do all the shopping for myself. And since I'm poor like the rest of America right now, I look to buy the cheapest, store-brand items I can find whenever I'm at Target. Or worse, Wal-mart.

Which brings me to the Q-tips. I've just discovered the Target generic brand of Q-tip. I know I shouldn't call them Q-tips, since that's a brand name, and the people at Q-tip Inc probably want some kind of royalty for using it. But I fucking hate the word "swab", so I'm damn sure not using "cotton swab", which is like ten times worse. In any case, I'm blown away by these things. They're like little pillows for my ears. I'm pretty sure I could jam these things all the way into my ear and it wouldn't damage a thing because they're so soft. In fact, my brain might thank me for giving it a little pillow massage.

Maybe the fact that a Q-tip is the most exciting part of my day means I need a hobby...

February Showers

I've just moved into a new place after about 4 years with my parents/old roomates. It's been a little bit of an adjustment for me. New routes to work, new routines after work, having to clean and wash dishes again. But by far, the biggest adjustment has been my morning shower. The new place I live in has one of those small stand-up showers with no tub, which I've never had in any of my houses before. Even the dorms I lived in freshman year had more space than my new shower. And the new shower is tiny, I think it's made for elementary schoolers or midgets.

The thing that I cannot get used to is the shower drain being right in the middle of the shower floor. I don't know why, but I hate stepping on that fucking drain. It's not a dirty shower at all, but somehow I feel like instantly it'll give me some kind of flesh eating bacteria and I'll lose my foot to a gangrenous infection. So, here I am each morning, in a shower made for a baby, trying to avoid stepping on the drain. It's like an uncoordinated dance that I have to do while I'm still half-awake. One of these days I'm going to stumble and come crashing through the shower's glass door.

So, if in a couple weeks you should hear of me dying in a horrible shower incident, please know that it wasn't due to diabetes, or trying to snap one off in the shower. No, it's because I was scared of a drain.

My Tea's Gone Cold...

Every few weeks I put my iPod on shuffle and listen to every song in my library one by one. I find it's a good reminder of how much good music there is out there, and it's always amazing how many different emotions and memories a song can elicit on the listener.

In any case, I was listening to music and Eminem's Stan comes on. I was reminded of just how incredible this song is. Em always comes with a boatload of rhymes, which is why he is one of the top rappers in the game (top ten in order: Tupac, Biggie, Eminem, Jay-Z, Andre3000, Jadakiss, Cee-Lo, Ludacris, Scarface, Big Pun). But in this particular song, the emotion in which he tells his tale, is so incredibly unique for music these days. Back in the day, the old R&B singers used to make you feel their heartbreak or joy. The kind of raw emotion Lenny Williams sang with on Cause I love You. You don't get that with today's washed-out, auto-tuned, club friendly pop music.

Not to mention the fact Eminen creates an actual narrative, complete with character background and development. We can actually relate in some part with both Stan and Em in this song. One craving love and attention, and somebody that just understands him. The other, a victim of envy and celebrity who just wants to be left alone and not feel responsible for other people's lives. Those both seam like parts of the human condition to me, ones to which we are all afflicted.

I think this song is Eminem's crowning achievement. It's one of the best story rhymes ever (behind Biggie's Niggas Bleed). It's a great example of why rap music should considered great literature, the poetry of a generation which should be taught and studied in schools and Universities.

I encourage you to give it another listen if this small post hasn't inspired you to do so already...

Son of A Bitch, He Beat Me...

It's been so damn cold outside lately...

I went outside in the garage to grab a soda tonight. I went into the fridge and noticed that about 4 cans of pop had exploded in the bottom drawer, leaving an Icee like, sticky mess. I. being the good son, decided to clean the drawer out for my dad. I knew he'd come home and bitch about having to clean it, so I beat him to it. Besides, this buys me a week or so of getting out of household shit like
"Dayve, can you take out the garbage?"
"I can't, I'm in the middle of something. Besides, remember a few days ago when I cleaned out the fridge so you didn't have to?"

or
"You're Mom needs you to help her with the groceries, get up and go help her."
"I can't, my wrist hurts from scrubbing out the soda from the drawer. I'm on some pretty heavy painkillers over here."

So I'm cleaning out the drawer, and it's fucking awful. I'm in the freezing cold garage with a hot rag, scraping the sides of this goddamn refrigerator for 10 minutes. I can barely feel my nose and my ears, and I'm getting more annoyed and cold by the second.

My dad comes home and opens up the garage door, and sees me swearing to myself...

"What are you doing?
"Cleaning this damn fridge. Soda blew up all over the place. It's like the fucking killing fields for Pepsi in here."
"Oh. Can you move for a sec?"

I get up. My dad takes the drawer and removes it from the bottom of the fridge. He takes it in the house to the laundry room and turns on the hot water and washes it out in two minutes. All the while laughing at me.

And I just sit there with a stupid look on my face.

Fuck.