Saturday, May 12, 2007

Continuing a Theme...

Uncle raises the topic, Stuff That Sucks.

Shit, where do I start?

How about people who suck?

Wanna know who sucks?

The designers and manufacturers of every car, truck, and SUV I've ever owned, who, for reasons I'll never understand in a million fucking years, couldn't see fit to incorporate into their design a windshield fluid reservoir with a capacity of more than 0.92 gallons. Do you sadistic little fuckers get off knowing there are thousands, if not millions, of garages and driveways in this country with one-gallon bottles of windshield fluid lying around with barely an inch left in the damn things?

So, who else sucks?

People who bitch and moan about Rachel Ray's existence on this planet. Jesus Christ! Turn off your fucking TV if you hate her that much. Get a fucking life, already. I first became exposed to the world of Rachel Ray hatred (I swear some people take it to the level of competitive sport) reading some blog post somewhere ranting about her Dunkin' Donuts commercials, which, apparently, are foretelling some kind of apocalyptic doom for mankind. I saw that commercial for the first time a while back, and had to check the batteries in my Giveashitometer to see if they were dead, the needle was reading so low.

Who else?

The R&D people single-cell organisms at Scott Brand Products who came up with their new "Extra Soft" toilet paper. Did any of you asswipes (no pun intended) ever try actually, oh, I dunno, WIPING YOUR ASS with this shit??? Those thousands of cute little quilted fluff-nodules, or whatever the fuck you call them, do but one thing. They serve as one gigantic perforation zone, the sole purpose of which seems to be the introduction of some kind of cost-saving measure, through which men can wipe their ass and give themselves a prostate exam at the same time.

Give me that cheap scratchy shit we had to use in grade school. You know the stuff with the branches and leaves still intact and visible in the fabric of the paper. At least it held together and got the job done.

OK, one more, for now.

How about every single person connected, in any way, shape, or form, to the writing and production of this current season of "24"?



What will they think of next?

I'd have more to say on this, but it's easier to link to Misha's latest.

Jack decides that maybe getting out of there would be a good idea. Generally speaking, getting into CTU is about the dumbest thing you can do, since it seems to be more open to traffic than Madonna’s thighs, so we have to agree with him on that one. They make their way to a ventilation shaft blocked by the Obligatory Rotating Fan of Doom™ that any show worth its salt (and, in this case, one decidedly not worth it) has to include as a block to the heroes’ progress.

What to do if you’re blocked by a fan, being pursued by heavily armed goons with automatic weapons while you yourself is armed only with a Glock with four rounds left in it and a fully functional automatic rifle?

Why, you stick the rifle in the fan, of course. After all, picking up some of the useless clutter littering the room and using that instead would be unfair.

Speaking of which: If you had, by now, gunned down about a dozen armed goons, wouldn't you have picked up a spare and a few extra magazines of ammo? If your answer is “yes”, forget about getting a job with Joel Surnow.


Hard to improve on that.

I've got plenty more to get to, but I need a drink first to help calm me down some.