23 November 2005

Lies Of Omission

Lies Of Omission

So, I was reading someone's blog recently. Within the body of the blog, this person had reposted a speech. Proper credit was given to the author, and title, and date of the speech. It was a very compelling, moving speech. While reading it, I realized I had read it a few years before (as the author, title, and date were the same). I also realized that parts of the speech had been left out. I asked the blogger about this, and he said that he left out a section due to personal feelings.

I immediately found this idea immensely intriguing...taking someone else's work and presenting only the parts with which you were comfortable. Fascinating. I decided to exaggerate the idea to show how reposting only portions of someone else's work is an injustice to that person (and readers/listeners).

So here, without further flourish, is the Gettysburg address...Krëg-style:

For as our fathers bought up this content nation, Dilbert and Ed ate the prostate crate.

Now we are engaged in a rat war, testing her tattooed and dead gendur (sp).We met a great field of tar.We have come to dedicate pot in it, as anal sting for those who did her native.This way, I do.But in lager, we cannot die, we cannot rate anal sound.The raven landed, hot rugged rave allowed Rover poop to react.Thor Longmember hates her; he can never forget he did her.

Its hero shelving, where bedded the great ass – the honed dead wet crease gave me a surf devotion – that high old shaved vain, that I shat off reed people not from earth.

And here’s the original (with the parts I chose to use in blue):

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of it, as a final resting place for those who died here, that the nation might live. This we may, in all propriety do. But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow, this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have hallowed it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here; while it can never forget what they did here.

It is rather for us the living, we here be dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth.

Not quite the same, huh?

11 November 2005

You Say Potato

So as I sit here picking the last of my lunch out of my teeth, I realize I can't deny one inescapable fact: Tater tots are the most ass-rocking side item in the history of all supplemental foodstuffs.

To compound the naturally inherent “hell-yeah!” factor present in all tater tots, they attain their uber-status despite all contrary aesthetic evidence. Let’s be frank here…a tater tot looks like someone has already chewed a bite of potato a few times and then mashed the bits into a shot glass before deep frying it. Visually, tater tots are almost as horrid as the time I accidentally saw my friend’s grandma naked (true story, but off-topic). But their full-tilt taste eradicates any and all negative facets attributed to their looks. Kinda like an ugly girl that puts out. Only with more ketchup.

Fries can get soggier than a porn star’s panties (you know, assuming porn stars actually wore panties) when cooked improperly. When cooked for too long, fries become stiff and crunchy and would make for suitable pongee-pit lining (as long as you shit on them first). No matter how they are cooked, tater tots are almost impossible to ruin, and for some inexplicable reason (inexplicable because science and math are involved), they stay hot much longer than their French-fried-potato counterparts. I have heard it told that some places offer side-salads or chili as available side items, but I’ve never ordered them with my burger, as I am neither a weight-obsessed woman nor a cowboy. So by default, tater tots are better than them as well.

Tater tots also have the honor of being a euphemism for hairy grapes. You know, love plums. Nuts. Balls. You get the idea. “She kneed me in my tater tots!” one could utter without feeling too self-conscious. One could not deliver a line like “Smack him in the fries with a pool-cue” with the same aplomb. And honestly, “That greasy midget just sucker-punched me in the side-salad,” sounds downright retarded. Think I’m wrong?
Suck my hot apple pie.

15 June 2005


So I'm back from Mexico. Castaños was nothing short of amazing. Check out photos and some captions from the entire journey here. The only downside to the trip is that now I know how enjoyable these events are, yet I have to wait an entire year before I can go back.


03 June 2005

Hirppy Bathday

To me.
Tomorrow I leave for Mexico.
For a week.

01 June 2005

"Ain't gunna be no rematch..."

...to quote Apollo Creed from the first Rocky movie.

I love this photo:

For a few reasons.

First, he's wearing a nerd shirt. Or, maybe it isn’t a nerd shirt, but it has a collar on it. I guess he’s one of those refined, upper-crust rockheads.

Second, this guy looks like Carl Weathers (Cracktion Jackson).

Third, he's smoking crack with a match. I always thought you had to use a blowtorch or some shit.

And finally there is the paramount reason I adore this photo. After the first two or three times you burn some rock, I'd imagine it’s pretty hard to look this righteous. I'd think that your average crackhead would look far more desperate and sweaty. So I figure either this guy is a newbie, or he’s a seasoned pro and doesn't take any shit from his crack. You know, like it’s a vendetta thing. Maybe crack killed his daddy and he's come back to teach crack a lesson. Any way you slice it, this dude means business.

Speaking of Action Jackson, that movie sucked. Bad. "Hot. Hotter! HOTTEST!"


11 January 2005