Irritation of the Non-Biological Type

Welcome to Jerksville, population YOU, or, yet another list of words that tend to annoy me.


"delish" (it does not magically translate into "delicious" to intelligent people. Only to imbeciles obsessed with "saving time," whatever that might be. Do they save time for later? Do they save it for the winter, when -as we all know- the Time Banks are shut for months? I wonder.)

"schedge" (only a class D ignoramus would use this word, as if it was actually that much shorter than the original, "schedule." At least, I assume the original is "schedule." I hope it is.)

"celeb" (trust me, if you are in that much of a hurry, simply avoid using the word altogether, or even avoid talking about celebrities, for that matter, rather than dropping last bit and turning the idiotic "celebrity" into the even more imbecilic "celeb.")

"it girl" (only to be used when referring to the girl from the Information Technology Department. In which case, the "it" should be capitalised and, thus, "IT." If referring to a model, super model, and/or glamour model, please use the old-fashioned "whore.")

"star quality" (which solely applies to vast, luminescent balls of plasma. And, no. Not even the brilliant John Goodman fits that description accurately enough. Are we clear?)

"push the envelope" (what?!?! That's just plain weird. Why not "shove the stationery"? "Nudge the wrapper"? Or, "thrust the package"? Well, that last one actually works better than the original. At least it makes some sense.

"think outside the box" (if, for whatever reason, you find yourself inside a box in the first place, forget about the entire concept of thought. It is clearly beyond your intellectual grasp. Give it up. You've lost. You're lost. You are obviously not philosopher material, which is the main reason why it doesn't seem obvious to you. Fool.



Why am I such an angry person?

Easy Ways To Ruin Good Literature

Bad Choices... Bad, bad, choices. You've been a bad choice.

This Week: Audiobook Accidents

When looking for someone to read Cormac McCarthy's Border Trilogy -consisting of All The Pretty Horses, The Crossing, and Cities of the Plain- for its audiobook version, some halfwitted executive at Random House who could not have possibly read McCarthy's works threw -for reasons both unexplained and unexplainable- Brad Pitt's name into the mix. Unfortunately, it stuck, and -thus- we can now safely assume that Brad Pitt has read at least -and quite possibly only- three books in his life. Needless to say, all three audiobooks are abridged versions of the original novels. One must wonder whether the width of Mr. Pitt's vocabulary -one hundred and two words, by my calculations, counting the word "yeah" no less than three times, to bump up the numbers- had anything to do with the aforementioned abridgement. (Pst, Brad... Hey, sorry, I should probably explain what both "aforementioned" and "abridgement" mean, right? "I said it before" and "shorty-shorty short-short," respectively. And "respectively" means "each one, in the aforementioned order.")

Communicating with morons is harder than it might seem from afar. Audiolibrarians all over the land shall despair at the sound of these, as much as cinephiles despaired upon hearing that Matt Damon had been cast as John Grady Cole in the film adaptation of All The Pretty Horses.

Post

The Humour of The New Yorker, also known as unfunny jokes and other non-sequiturs.

Animal Humour, like The Far Side, but not humourous.

An ant wearing a surgical gown is lying down on an operating table. A duck wearing a stethoscope, surgical mask and operating theatre scrubs bends over him with a worried look in his eyes. The caption reads:

-What did you say your specialty was, Monsieur Fourmi?
-Ant-hropology, Duck-tor Canard.

New York Humour, whatever that maybe.

A Catholic priest, a Rabbi and an Ayatollah walk into a cafe. The latter is murdered pre-emptively by the other two, who go on to eat bagels with cream cheese.

Self-Referential Humour. (The New Yorker? Yes! The New Yorker.)

An uneducated workman boorishly walks up to a Manhattan newsstand not wearing a tie and asks for a copy of The New Yorker. End of joke.

Ouch

Silly Words and Stupid Phrases that only Olympic-size morons and Brobdingnagian dickheads use. Particularly on television.
"The thing is is that..." (the thing simply is, you commoner!)

"110%" (and any other silly percentages, including 101%, 99.99% and seventy-fuck percent.)

"The best of the best" (if you are the best, then you are the best of the best, the worst and everyone in between, including those treading water in their puddle of mediocrity.)

"Yum-o-metre"

"The next... / The new..." (as in: "Rufus Wainwright is the next Elton John, in that they are both really annoying," or "Nickelback really do wish they were the new Nirvana, but they are just -well- utter shite.")

"The myspace Generation" (which normally sends shivers down my spine, as I consider the prospect of future age groups being sponsored by multinational corporations, as in the following nightmares: "the Nestlé generation," "the Age of Coca-Cola," "the Year of the Cadbury," or "Life, sponsored by Marlboro.") See also: "The facebook Faction" / "The iPod iDiots"

"-ista" (suffix, normally added to words that are on their own already asinine, such as fashion, to produce a surplus of asininity, as in "fashionista," meaning "silly person wearing even sillier clothes.")

Rawk & Rawl...!

Plausible, yet fictional, news... Music press headlines for the new millenium

This Town Ain't Big Enough For Th' Both Of Us

Brian Adams and the Cardigans join forces against Ryan Adams and the Cardinals. Hilarity ensues. Both super-groups meet for one final showdown performance, which is eventually cancelled due to poor ticket sales. Both Brian and Ryan go on to co-write and co-produce a modern day re-imagining of the Adams Family.

What's that floating in my latte... I mean... errrr... my beer?

Independent icon, sound engineer Steve Albini fights blues musician siblings Johnny and Edgar Winter -who just happen to suffer from albinism, of course- over a misunderstanding involving a half-eaten muffin and a double-decaf, skinny, [insert random italianate word], mocha, frappuccino, latte with cinnamon, cream, and two sugars. Albini challenges the Winter brothers to a Mexican-style wrestling match, to which they both decline saying something along the lines of "[A] wrestling match? (...) Ya freak! (...)" Hilarity does not ensue.

"Thë Äcë öf Spädës, thë Äcë öf Spädës...!"

Imagine an island on which people had to kill other people to survive. No, not Manhattan. Think more along the lines of Battle Royale. But with rock stars...! Yeah! The first episode would consist of diaeresis-ridden artists fighting for umlaut supremacy, whatever that may mean. In any case, Motörhead leader Lemmy Kilmister, Mötley Crüe's Tommy Lee, Eric Bloom from Blue Öyster Cult, the funny-looking dude from Maxïmo Park, Bob Mould from Hüsker Dü, those weirdos from Röyksopp, all members of Spinal Tap, and all ex-members of Queensrÿche would fight for their lives and -ultimately- diacritical superiority.

Yeah!

Hostile Makeover

Children's Literature + Hollywood = many an appallingly written, poorly directed, incompetently acted piss-poor excuse for a film.

The Ruffalo

The life-story of American actor Mark Ruffalo synchronized to the plot and story of Julia Donaldson/Axel Scheffler's unforgettable The Gruffalo. The monster becomes an incompetent actor and acts in a string of flops.

Where The Wilde Things Are

Part Maurice Sendak's Where The Wild Things Are, part bio-pic describing the troubled life and troubled times of literary mammoth Oscar Wilde. It would almost certainly include monsters, betrayal, sodomy and pederasty.

The Chronicles Of Arnie

The Chronicles Of Narnia meets Arnold Schwarzenegger. Need I say more? Maybe I need, I suppose. Why, I hear you ask? Why not? For the money, of course. Why else, right? C.S. Lewis, but with no moral message and -instead- a bunch cars blowing up, buildings burning, and dudes getting shot. Maybe we'll squeeze some robots, some time-travel, some sex, and lotsa, lotsa violence. Yeah!

WELCOME TO NOWHERE, Population 1

An Inventory Of Unfunny Jokes, its presence here having certainly not been prompted by popular demand.


Q: How many people of average intelligence are needed to change a light-bulb?

A: Normally, one would suffice.


'Knock, knock...'
'Who's there?'
'The Doctor.'
'Doctor who?'
'Doctor Hilarious.'


A man walks into a bar with a dead duck under his arm. He goes to the counter and asks for a pint of lager. He drinks it, then pays for it, goes to the loo to urinate, comes back out again, and leaves.


Q: What is weirder than an ordinary-looking two-headed basilisk with a fetish for Victorian tea cups?

A: A weird-looking two-headed basilisk with a fetish for Victorian tea cups, clearly.


And, last, a joke from someone else's garden...


Q: What animal has four legs, but doesn't walk, and feathers, yet doesn't fly?

A: A dead cow with a feather duster stuck up its hind.


I believe that last joke was coined by a famous Argentinian comedian who goes by the name of Alfredo "El Gordo" Casero, certainly a man of genius.