Technology in action! And fannies!
August 9, 2011 § 6 Comments
I don’t know how the weather is where you are, but it remains hotter than Katy Perry in most parts of the country. It’s been about 109 degrees in my apartment this week, but apparently it’s been 184 in Oklahoma and Texas, where people who got outside burst into flames like a compact disc in a microwave. (Hey kids! Try this at home! Put a CD in the microwave! It’ll be fun, I promise!). The moral of the story: it is hot.
The residents of “Caribou” which appears to be in Maine (or perhaps Canada) are saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about! It’s a comfortable 73 degrees here. I just took my dog for a walk.” Assholes. I don’t have a dog, but if I were to try to take him for a walk, he would maul me to death within the first fifteen steps, steal my keys, grow thumbs, let himself into the apartment, and turn the A/C down to about 64. Then once the sun had baked my corpse a nice medium-rare, he’d let himself out for a nice dinner of Canadian human. (@Fido69: “I just ate Vincent. He was a little fatty; nothing a little bbq sauce can’t help. LOL! #humansaredelicious”).
It’s so hot that the animals are actually killing themselves. I say this because a seven-foot shark was found in forest in New Hampshire, about 45 miles away from the ocean. Everyone is very confused.
This large blue shark (Prionace glauca) was found in the woods near Milton, NH (where it appears to be about 80 degrees), and no one is quite sure how it got there. The official story is that fishermen caught the shark, and then realized on the drive home that they didn’t have proper fishing licenses to catch sharks, and so dumped the evidence in the woods. I prefer to think that the shark heard about the ground turkey recall and was returning to his local grocery store to return his tainted poultry.
Oh, and more good news about recalls: strawberries are tainted with E. coli, so we can’t eat those, either. Thanks a lot, Oregon.
We would all love to have a nice, cold, refreshing strawberry to forget the triple digit heat, but thanks to Oregon, there’s shit germs on the berries and we can’t eat them.
So we all agree that we hate people from Caribou, NH (or possibly Canada), and those strawberry-tainting jerks in Oregon. One thing that we all agree that we love is beach volleyball. And although I don’t usually associate England with beach volleyball, I have a new reason to cheer for the British team: their bums.
The British squad has decided to sell the advertising space on their bottoms, with one small catch: it’s a QR tag. A QR tag, for those who don’t know, are those little square bar code thingies that you scan with your smart phone. If you don’t know about QR tags, you probably don’t have a smart phone. And you probably live in Republic County, Missouri. The point is, go ahead and take a picture of the British women’s beach volleyball team at this week’s Olympic qualifying event in London! But if you get their fannies in the shot, your smart phone will automatically take you to the advertisers website. Technology in action! And fannies!
And if you live in Republic County, Missouri, you are probably one of the seven people in the Universe (and here I include the creatures who live in the water on Mars) who hasn’t seen the video for Rebecca Black’s unbelievably frivolous and silly song, “Friday”. If you have seen the video you are already compulsively humming “…gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal…” and you probably want to stab me in the neck. I’m sorry. But I didn’t mention “Friday” just to throw you into a homicidal rage. It turns out that Rebecca Black actually performed “Friday” at the recent Teen Choice awards, and was joined on stage by none other than singer slash songwriter slash super celebrity slash hot girl…you guessed it…Katy Perry.
The scary news is that, according to sources (although I didn’t watch the Teen Choice awards myself), Katy Perry’s hair is black again. The idiots down at TMZ are throwing up half-digested frappuccino all over their National Enquirer magazines. There’s been no report as to how the hair-colour-change affected their performance of “Friday,” and there’s gotta be a joke here about “blondes have more fun” and “partying! Partying! Yeah! Fun fun fun fun!” but I am trying to get pictures of the fannies of the British women’s volleyball team.
(Alternate title for this article: “Hey kids! Try this at home!”)
Keep a good heart; the worst is yet to come.