Category Archives: Nixonian Enemies List
The ScienceWerks team has spent the last 5 days researching better titles for this absolute turkey of a film that has convinced America and the foreign press that it is the second coming of the cinemascope song and dance genre. How did it do this? We’ll get in to that later, today the ScieneWerks just wants to present the results of their research. Forgive the ScienceWerks, they’re not great with design and don’t seem to understand proper text stacking.
The Almighty Facebok desperately wants me to be friends with all the Kardashians today. Facebok is going to lose this battle, methinks.
It appears the newlyweds will be in LA this weekend kvetching up traffic all along the most heavily traveled roads in LA during drive time, the weekend before the largest artery in Southern California is shut down for two days.
Royalty, you just made the list.
Yes, that is Simpson/Hemstead’s official stance.
Oh Christ, it’s learned the law now. It’s only a matter of time before we’re all at it’s pimple-faced feet begging for the sweet mercy that only death can provide.
Photo by Ian C. Shulman.
He’s already got the president in his hip pocket, and he’s dating the “it” girl for the “she just turned 18, right” pervy crowd. Now he knows the law.
We’re so feked.
WTF is with the prices of trash cans? Simpson/Hemstead was unaware that the price of trash cans had skyrocketed so much (we usually just throw trash on the floor and then once a week take a big squeegie and push it out into the yard), and we are appalled that Americans are forced to pay fancy escort prices for a place to throw out old fruit.
Some of the culprits:
And those Simple Human jackasses try to convince you that you need to buy 12 “liners”, what we undereducated call “trash bags” at roughly 1 dollar a piece. If you’re only taking out the trash once a week (which means your house is filthy and smells like garbage all the time) you’re spending 52 bucks a year just on trash bags designed to fit these overpriced aluminum and plastic buckets.
But raising the bar on high priced stamped metal buckets are the douchenozzles at OXO. I’ve often wondered what OXO even means while using one of their vegetable peelers that looks like it was built for a kindergarten class, and having seen the prices of a goddamned trash can I think I’ve figured it out:
$89 for a plastic bucket mass produced in a mold that breaks after two years, and 169 for the same thing made out of the equivalent of 48 cans of coke (which costs 28 dollars, plus you get a shit-ton of Coke).
I like the stones on these cats, but currently this company has the biggest brass cajones of them all:
This is only a selection of some of their products, including a red metal 98 dollar bullet trash can. Some might say, “But you’re paying for the import fees and styling. Look at the glorious European styling!”
It’s f@cking round. Round isn’t a style, it’s a shape. It’s a shape some would consider funny for a balloon. It’s a goddamned cylinder. It’s the shape of an empty roll of toilet paper. Pipe down with your European style crap. As for import fees: once again it’s a trash can. This isn’t a luxury automobile. What exactly are the tariffs on round lightweight metal I wonder?
No. This unchecked trash can lunacy will end the minute you elect Simpson/Hemstead to office. You’ve got Netflix and cell phones and Simpson/Hemstead Merch to spend this money on, not trash bags and shitty plastic cans and European Styled Roundness.
The first was a barbarian. The second was a destroyer.
The third is a red head.
This is what I’m bitching about so much on Facebook, guys.
For the average person I imagine that they don’t understand what the big deal with Final Cut (Pro) X turning it’s back on the professional community is about. I respect that, but for people who have used FCP in a professional setting for closing in on 10 years, who have touted the value of the system as competitive with software like Avid that was at the time priced beyond the reach of the freelance editor without a bank loan. This is the professional digital video equivalent to the sensation of watching Episode I for the first time in the theaters. The sense of betrayal is strong with this one…
I promise I’ll get back to writing my own blogs this weekend rather than just posting other people’s things.
Friday sucks man. 4 hours of honest sleep and an exhaust-laden drive to work. At 7:50am I pull up to our parking lot, which is assigned parking. This is what I see:
So I park a block and a half away.
Goddamn you so much Friday. You just made the list.
Begun, this bark war has. The dalmatians refuse to shut the f*ck up for even 10 minutes. The owners are apathetic and unresponsive. Cruella DeVille was starting to seem like a reasonable human being.
No no, there must be another option. We tried talking to them again. Pleading really. The response was calling us terrorists and shouting at us that our grass was ugly. Short of yelling “well give me back my jacket” just to out-stupid the neighbors, we were back to the mindset of,”make spotty coat.”
We tried bark arresters. They failed. We called the police. 2am, the male was barking, as he had been all day long. The dispatcher didn’t even need to be told what the problem was, she said, “barking dog? Jesus that’s loud, I’ll send a car.” Cops knocked on the door. The neighbors opted to not answer. Officers told us to call them if we saw them come home because they are clearly dicks. (I’m paraphrasing, but you get the idea)
The Minister of Propoganda decided to up the ante. He found on the internet bark arresters guaranteed to work within a week. Whereas the last bark arrester looked like a pack of chewing gum, this looked like the horn worthy of a cruise ship. Whereas the last unit had three slits in the plastic to let slip the ultrasonic dogs of war, this had a cone the circumference of my fist.
So they were mounted to the side of the house. Two of them. Like canons on a tall ship brought to bear on a target.
The first night, all was well. The male came in the front of the yard and barked… he was noticeably confused, barked more quietly two times and then was quiet the rest of the night. There were barks here and there, but it was pretty good. Definitely better.
That was a week ago.
Sunday afternoon, the neighbors had a party. All day. Something must have been said about the ultrasonic canons (which I feel I should add, are completely safe and legal for the dogs), because at 11:30 that night the neighbor drunkenly strung a t-shirt between two pieces of scrap wood and screwed it to the fence in front of our bow canon, and moved an umbrella to block our aft canon.
We watched the drunken spectacle for a few minutes and then decided that tomorrow we’d move them three feet in any direction, rendering the blockade ineffective.
Well, we’ve not even had the time to do that today before the male neighbor decided to start spraying them with a hose to try and disable them. These things have him pissed off to no end.
Keep in mind, we’ve talked to these folks for months, gave them several ideas on how we could work together to make the situation livable for us both, and we were called terrorists for it. And we are still doing nothing illegal, cheap, or mean-spirited. If there is no barking, they don’t go off. There’s still over half their yard that isn’t being covered by the canons. The dogs have the entire backyard to run, yelp, bark and so forth and it won’t affect them at all. It’s only when they’re along the side 4 feet from our heads that these devices go off, and just simply provide an audible newspaper to the nose, so they learn not to bark on the side of the house. We’re not dicks.
Okay, we are dicks, but not in this case. And now this dude is trying to destroy property rather than come discuss the situation with us as we’ve asked, begged, and pleaded he do. And it’s all on the security cameras.
So the Minister calls the police to ask for advice. (We’ve been consulting the police since we came to the realization these folks would not work with out, be neighborly, or do anything other than lie to our faces and then go about ignoring the problem.) The police say, “Cool, if he breaks them let me know and we can arrest him for vandalism.”
So that’s where Dalmatian Alley is folks, waiting for a full grown man to vandalize our houseship with a hose so we might invoke the power of police goodness.
Stay tuned, we’ll keep this updated as new things happen.
Post Script: The canons are still working, despite the flooding.