The Young and the Tasteless

This week’s “A Day in the Life of” blog post is dedicated to the one and the only FlashPhilly. You may know him from his brilliant musings on issues like the Cat Drain and poetic miracles like the corporate haiku series. FlashPhilly was kind enough to take TYATT into the most precious moments of his daily work life. Below, you will find all the secrets to succeed without actually succeeding.

1.  Always have a very complicated spreadsheet open on your desktop. This way you always look overwhelmed regardless of whether you’re in the office or not. Which you  ideally wouldn’t be. That also deters people who come looking for you from actually giving you work.

This spreadsheet is SO COMPLICATED. (Image from Spreadsheet Forum)

 

2.  Always carry a manilla folder with all kinds of notes written on the outside. Also, walk very quickly everywhere you go.

I am SO BUSY with all of my MANILA FOLDERS.

 

3.  Don’t clear your voicemail. This way, if it is full, people will assume you are so important that you are way too busy for whatever they want you to do.

Full voicemail = Corporate Domination

 

4.  Don’t be afraid to sigh loudly while sitting at your desk.

This is the description from Superstock.com: "Caucasion mid-adult retro businessman sitting at desk raising hands in air with look of frustration."

 

5.  Right before you do go anywhere, spray a light mist of water on your face from a bottle in your desk. People will assume that your sweat is stress-related in regards to some deadline you’re not going to make.

I always sweat this much when I am nervous.

 

6.  Every time you run into someone in the office and they begin to ask you to do something, keep walking past them, turn, and make up an excuse while walking backwards.

(Image from Ramsey Everydaypants)

 

7.  Use A LOT of corporate jargon. Almost exclusively. In all of your daily office interactions.

8.  Keep using the phrase “have you been out there today…?” If you emphasize the statement correctly, the person shouldn’t be able to tell if you’ve been bouncing out of the office to meetings all day or have been buried in your office with the door closed. Either is good.

This is exactly how my day has been going.

 

 

Fan Fiction has probably been around as long as the notion of “celebrity.” Even before then, artists and writers have always relied on inspiration from muses to create some of their finest works. However, there comes a point where being inspired by the beautiful women of our time crosses over from “flattering” to a “500 ft restraining order.”

Although I do not condone any of the following, it is like the Gods smiled down on me when I received a link to the website The Godawful Fan Fiction Wiki. The specific story in question is titled “Raping Amanda Bynes and Avril Lavigne.”

Note: I am currently writing this post from the Bolt Bus and I am waiting for my neighbor to wake up and casually glance over at my computer, then not so casually transfer seats.

Anyways, apparently whoever wrote this post was less than satisfied with the author, Dave Haugen’s, genius expressed in the story. I did not actually read the startling brilliant piece of fan fiction “Raping Amanda Bynes and Avril Lavigne” but you will all be glad to know that Dave has taken the time to not only write this piece of fan fodder, but to copyright said masterpiece.

The person that DID read the story and also posted about it on the website summarized it as the following:

In Haugen’s story, a man named Mike kidnaps Amanda Bynes and a person who he believes to be Jennie Garth. The woman turns out to be Avril Lavigne instead. Mike mainly uses Avril as a “scapegoat” and rapes and tortures her. He rapes Amanda for a small amount, while using Amanda as an accomplice. The whole experience turns out to be a dream, and the story ends with the character preparing for work. The story is criticized due to the fact that the story was written for sexual pleasure.

Upsetting Point #1

Avril Lavigne looks NOTHING like Jennie Garth. There is also at least a 10 year age difference, and Avril Lavigne normally has at least 5 streaks of black highlights in her hair at all times.

Upsetting Point #2

Why would Amanda be “raped a small amount” and then help with raping and torturing Avril? Potentially just to get her back for releasing the song “Sk8er Boi” as well as butchering the spelling of the English language.

Upsetting Point#3

This whole thing turns out to be a dream and then Mike goes about his day. Does this actually happen to people? If so, I am moving to Canada. For some reason, the country that has police men on horses and produced Justin Bieber could never have citizens that would secretly harness such madness.

I wasn’t going to write about this because it has already been covered on Gawker and Animal NY but the latest development in the “Bloody Loco” saga makes it seem too relevant to my Spaghetti Smackdown post to ignore. A video that was posted last Friday shows a subway rider calmly sitting and ignoring the increasingly aggressive antics of a certifiably crazy person.

 

Gawker writes “the commuter in the pale blue cardigan calmly sits and nods his head and mutters affirmatively—without showing any apparent fear or anger—as the crazy guy just inches way spits out his name, ‘Bloody Loco,’ over and over again, and demands that he “write that shit, ASAP.”

This has always been my own personal solution to dealing with the mutterings of the crazies on the train, but as things escalated to the point of potential physical aggression, the video abruptly ended. Gawker then spent the rest of this week trying to figure out what exactly went down. I would have let things be, but after reading this last post about how they tracked down the blue sweater guy, I felt it was best to address the issue of eating something entirely different from spaghetti before getting on the train. Daniel, the harassed subway patron, told Gawker the following:

“I got on the subway and accidentally bumped his leg and it started. He called me a pussy and I told him ‘I am what I eat.’ When a girl laughed he went ballistic. The guy got off a couple of stops later asking me to get off the subway and ‘shoot it out’ with him.”

First of all, only in NYC would someone reply to being called a pussy with “I am what I eat.” The awesomeness of this statement is doubled by the fact that he had just returned from visiting his girlfriend in Queens, so very probably, he did eat pussy just before getting on the train. Keep on being what you eat, Daniel. We should all aspire to handle escalating subway situations in the exact same fashion as you.

 

It seems perfectly reasonable to roll a tank through the home of a suspected cockfighter, right? Sheriff Joe Arpaio of the Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office thought so when he allowed Steven Seagal to bust into a suspect’s home solely to execute a search warrant and arrest the suspect.

Let me set the scene for you. You are Jesus Llovera, suspected cockfighter, just sitting at home in your La-Z-Boy chair, surrounded by the 115 chickens you keep as “pets.” All of a sudden, you hear a sound that transplants you from rural America to what sounds like the heart of a battle in a war-torn country, and the next thing you know, out pops Steven Seagal in the middle of your living room, from inside of a tank. Not only were the 115 birds killed immediately afterwards, but not surprisingly, thousands of dollars in damages were inflicted upon the house after a tank rolled into the livingroom.

In an article from KPHO.com, neighbor Debra Ross is quoted saying ““When the tank came in and pushed the wall over and you see what’s in there, and all it is, is a bunch of chickens.”

What I don’t understand is why they murdered 115 chickens. They couldn’t have found one possible use for them? They could have at least driven them over to the nearest KFC and offered a cheap price for fresh chicken (probably the freshest chicken to ever be served in a KFC for that matter). Regardless, it seems completely reasonable to spend all tax revenues on more operations like this. Perhaps Steven Seagal could also just drop from the sky in an army regulation-style aircraft and parachute into the streets to stop jaywalkers?

I’ve been hearing amazing things about Steven Seagal’s reality TV show Lawman for a while now, but I think this piece of news is exactly what it is going to take to get me to start watching this show on a regular basis.

When decorating a guest bathroom, it seems typical to put as little effort into it as possible. Stocking toilet paper on a regular basis seems to be setting the bar high. However, if you install this shower curtain, I guarantee that you will have to also restock your disposable tissue box by the end of your guest’s stay due to the fact that they will probably be crying hysterically every night from horrifying nightmares involving a murdered young woman, a man with severe mommy issues, and taxidermy. Note that I am also linking this post to Daddy Issues because I am purely too lazy to add another category for mommy issues.

What could possibly complete the decor in a room centered on a shower curtain depicting murder? Why, the Bloody Bath Mat of course. If you are going to go for depicting a murder scene in your bathroom, at least try to make it as realistic as possible.

 

Lastly, the shop at Amazon.com seems to have an entire array of bloody products to really scare the shit out of any normal human being. If subtlety is not your thing, you can always add this gorgeous Bloody Weapon Garland:

 

My favorite thing to wake up to this morning (and by wake up I mean at 10am —unemployment has really great hours) was the commotion caused by Chris Brown’s appearance on Good Morning America. I am sure that most of you have heard about this by now, but the initial summary on Perezhilton really took things to the next level:

“Chris lashed out and stormed back to his dressing room, where he became so out of control, the hair and makeup people called security. But they were too late. By the time they got there, Chris had already torn the room apart and smashed a window in his dressing room. Supposedly, glass shattered and fell onto 43rd and Broadway. Then, like the Hulk, he tore off his shirt and left the building, even though he was slated to perform a second time for the show’s website. And that is that.”

Obviously there is no excuse for this behavior, but I love that he really went there by popping his top. Before leaving the building. There are many situations where popping your top is appropriate, and this is definitely one of them. Other similarly appropriate “shirt-popping” situations include:

—Birthday Parties

—County Fairs

—Karaoke Competitions

—Sky Diving

—Christenings, or any other activities that take place on hallowed ground

For those of you that missed out on the interview that spurred this shirt-popping extravaganza, here you go (via TMZ):

 

It seems there is an unspoken rule that in the home of every American family, the guest bedroom must appear as if a physical incarnation of Shabby Chic projectile vomited on every available surface. Even if the rest of a home is furnished with the slight hand of a born minimalist, as soon as you open the door to the guest’s quarters, you seem to have stepped into a show home for the magazine Southern Accents.

However, I am here to tell you there is a viable alternative that will leave you as the talk of the town—A much more creative utilization of space that also guarantees an experience future house guests will never forget. Even if they try. VERY VERY HARD. Introducing—THE GUEST BEDROOM. A room that draws chills up the spine of every potential visitor as well as cues mysterious background music that can only be described as the lovechild of the musical scores from Jaws and The Shining.

I like to pride myself on maintaining at least the slightest hint of normalcy in the persona I share with the world. Still, everyone deserves an outlet for their full-on crazy, and mine will be the guest bedroom I can afford as soon as I am not poor, or as soon as I move out of New York City. Whichever comes first. The guest bedroom is a space where all the embarrassing memorabilia you choose to keep from the world can finally flourish. The guest bedroom is a place where you can guarantee that your house guests feel like they have stepped into the pages of The Magus. The guest bedroom is a place where you can keep all the shit you know you shouldn’t have purchased but you did—all while manipulating those poor souls that thought it would be fun to have an “extended visit” at your lovely country home.

The first item that I will be placing in my guest bedroom was sent to me by my friend Jeff. We have been joking for years about the concept of the guest bedroom, and he deserves some credit for all the future friends I will lose due to overnight stays in my home, as well as for the following:

Unfortunately, The Original Edward Cullen Life Size Twilight Silhouette Vinyl Wall Decal is sold out at the moment. After this blog post I am sure the creator will realize that it is still very much in high demand and reprint at least 17,000 for all my blog readers. The Guest Bedroom Blog Posts will give you a glimpse into my own personal brand of crazy while hopefully inpsiring you to hop on this bandwagon that will lead you to absolutely nothing beneficial. Enjoy.

Looks like someone jumped on this bandwagon 3 weeks too late. And by this bandwagon, I mean the aljazeera.net article I read on February 28th. Happy Friday bitches!

New York City subway etiquette is probably the one of the most important issues in the daily lives of New Yorkers, outranked only by sidewalk dog etiquette and taxi cab etiquette. As my friend Justin over at www.Justinthecity.com recently wrote:

“The subway in New York is like the most delicate of ecosystems: its fragile balance hinges on the cooperation and partnership of all who employ its use to maintain an active symbiosis and carry all riders to their various destinations in unbroken harmony. And then there are always some assholes to fuck it up.”

Well, Justin, the fine folks over at New York Magazine’s Daily Intel have provided us with another fine example of the assholes who continue to fuck it up. Can all six of you reading this identify several examples in the video below of what might be considered less than exemplary subway behavior?

 

I’ll give you a moment to let that sink in. Personally, I only watched the first 45 seconds of this video before turning it off and feeling disgusted with both parties involved. As Daily Intel pointed out, everyone who rides the subway on a regular basis encounters people eating in what I would like to think of as one of the filthiest places on earth. In fact, I bet there are numerous studies that back up my claim that the subway is one of the filthiest places on earth, especially to enjoy a meal. My stomach literally turns when I see someone eating a perfectly delicious muffin, panini or other somewhat portable meal on the C train. Therefore, I can very much relate with the woman who is thoroughly disgusted with the delicious spaghetti dinner being devoured in front of her. The only thing that could make that meal worse would be if the person next to her was pulling a “Lady and the Tramp” and the two of them were slurpng down on the same piece of pasta.

However, one of the other cardinal rules of subway travel in NYC is that there is absolutely no need to call someone out on an activity that is not directly affecting anyone else on the train (except maybe making them nauseous). Even moreso, who says to another human being out loud “What kind of animal eats on the train?”

I’ve heard the theory that the first and last cars on a train are reserved for the crazies and the homeless people, so from now on I think it is fair to say that both parties involved in this video should a beeline straight for Subway car #1. I hope to never see either of you on the MTA. The end.

The New York Observer Daily Transom posted an article this week titled “Sexless and the City: Web Warps Libidos of Coked-Up Careerists.” The basic premise of the article is that people in NYC are more focused on growing and maintaining their social networking platforms than banging a pseudo-stranger at the end of the night. I tend to disagree on this point. I think it is much more likely that if people are not getting laid in NYC, it is because #1) People seem to be spending time with smaller groups of friends and #2) If you do drugs until 7am, some crucial working parts for “making the sex,” are, ahem, perhaps not working. I’ll let all of you decide for yourselves after reading this article, but here is some of the feedback I have received from friends on the issue:

Friend #1

“Sitting around and doing a shit ton of drugs with your closest friends is not going to get any one laid…..unless that drug is mdma….then maybe?”

Friend #2

“I understand where they’re coming from, but i am just trying to get laid, without a condom.”

Even the observer seemed to be noticing that this may not be a universal trend. When chatting with a young woman (who may or may not ever get laid, due to her incredibly creepy word choices below) the following conversation transpired:

“It doesn’t matter whether you’re doing it with someone who’s a good writer,” a young woman, who is a journalist in New York, said over Gmail chat. “Because all it comes down to, really, is whether he/she smells good and can wiggle around well.”

“I agree!” The Observer typed back.

The words stopped coming, and then Gmail indicated she had entered text.

“Being naked, warm and squirming with someone in a bed has nothing to do with the Internet,” her Gmail chat message read. “Never has, never will!”