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Cartoongate

A tribute I did to those Nickelodeon shows we grew up with…

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Projecterest

I have something I need to get off my chest.

I have a Pinterest account. There, I’ve said it. To alleviate any angst that my revelation may have evoked, I will put your minds at ease and announce that the account has not been accessed in some time. In fact, one could say that I have and I haven’t a Pinterest account. It’s the equivalent of someone stating that they HAVE a humorous blog, but the content is humorless (maybe it’s nothing like that). Regardless, that time is behind me; and it’s a good thing too. My Y chromosomes were beginning to question their existence.

But before I get too carried away with my overly built up hostility towards Pinterest, let me inform you on what it helped me accomplish.

Those who have been diligently reading my blog know that I have been attempting to read a minimum of one book per month. This is difficult when all aspects of life coalesce into a heaping pile of shit sunshine and flowers. You all know what I am saying…Okay, so maybe not all. Anyhow, more reading equates to more books. And more books…Well let me create a competent diagram to help everyone better under the complexity of it all:

ReadingBooksBookshelf

I have done the reading, I have accumulated the books, and now I need a bookshelf. That is where Pinterest enters. The site has some pretty awesome Do It Yourself (DIY) projects, and who doesn’t love some good DIY? I found one that turned cheap crates into nice decorative bookshelves. Due to my lack of space at the moment, I only awarded myself three crates. (For all those mathematician majors, or minors, you are correct in your calculation of only two crates pictured below. For those who are seeing three, I’ll have what you are having.)

Once I had the proper tools, I began the transformation. I popped open the can of stain and slathered it onto the crate until the proper pigmentation. My antecedent knowledge on the aforementioned process was nil. After one crate, I could have been a member of the Black Hands. You could have called me Gavrilo Princip. (A little Serbian humor for you.) This meant that gloves were like batteries; not included. From that point forward, I embraced the stain and decorated my bod with the war paint. In all fairness, the fumes were beginning to saturate the air and I was on cloud nine. I suppose I also underestimated the word stain, because for the next two days my chest was speckled with the stuff. I could have been handed off to the victors at the Brit Awards. Preferably Lana Del Rey. Anyhow, enough about that. Here are the results:

                                 Beginning                                                         Present

CratesBookshelf

Bookshelves

Future…but with actual books.

Box of Chocolate

There are only two positives that come from Valentine’s Day.

The first being Brach’s little candy hearts. I love those chalk candies. I pop them like House pops pills. (Bummer. This reminds me of the fact that House M.D is over and all my analogies involving that subject matter will soon be antiquated.) I devour those candy hearts like they are going out of style…Wait a second…This is, however, excellent news for my future spouse. I have designed a plan and all she will have to do to make me happy is to give me the “stuff”. A few pounds will suffice. As for this year, I have to buy it for myself on the Black Market. It is a little liquor store around the way, “Black’s Market and Deli;” delicious sandwiches.

The second is chocolate. This is not as luxurious of an item because its availability does not pertain to a specific duration of time. You may not be able to find exquisitely petite red boxes that scream “I’m getting lucky tonight!” or heart shaped chocolates, but chocolate is nevertheless present during every waking moment of one’s existence. Still, Valentine’s Day gives us, or shall I say me, the excuse to indulge. I put on my fat boy pants and go to town on that box. Nom-nom-nom-nom.

Which brings me to the point of all this. Why is it when you buy a Valentine’s box or classic See’s Candy assortment box that there is only ever one delicious piece of chocolate? And you know the piece I am talking about. The highly coveted caramel. The battle for that caramel piece gets intense too. Once that lid is lifted and the chocolates are exposed, it’s game time. The winner is that lucky sonofa%$#$# that get’s the golden egg: the chocolate caramel.

Here is how it goes down: I start this race by biting into one. Coconut? Flippin’ coconut? Why? Did I ask for an assortment of God’s most inadequate creations? Am I going to unearth Justin Bieber in the next one? This is horrible. I try a second chocolate. Nuts. If there is one way to quickly ruin a good thing it is by adding nuts to food products. Judging by past female reaction, that may be a quick way to ruin all good things. I bite the third chocolate. Some kind of dark yellow cream. Not horrible, and I’ll eat the entire chocolate, but by God I have to get back down to brass tacks and find that caramel. And it is usually in, on, or around this time that someone walks by and grabs a chocolate, and wouldn’t you know it, it is the caramel. It is upsetting. Not because I did not get the chocolate, I can live with that, but that they did not put in time for that caramel.

When it comes down to it, Forest Gump was right. Life is a box of chocolates; you never know what you’re going to get…in a box of chocolates. People have to experience the bad ones to know the true value of the good. Or they could just buy the box that states what each chocolate is, but that would negate this whole post. And that, my friends, is no Bolshevik.

ForestGumpChocolate

My Homemade Videos

Have you ever thought: “Wow, I just can’t get enough of these titillating thoughts. I wish there was a way in which I could have all of the greatest recorded material in one place!”

Look no further. You postulated, predicted, inferred, and guessed it.  Here is the greatest collection of videos from Titillating Thoughts that has EVER been assembled. It has screechy vocal chords, skits, celebrity impersonations, AND MORE. This collection has it all. And if that wasn’t enough, if you order now you will get all the videos PLUS a pair of nail clippers WITH FREE nail filer, yes I said FREE!  Just call the number below to order this:

1-800-Ifyouareinterestedinsendingmemoneycomment (We’ll be in touch.)

[Shipping & handling fees will be $19.89. It is non-refundable. Asian woman sold separately.]

Note: Videos are in chronological order.

“CartoonGate” – (2013): A diddy I made about Nickelodeon cartoons from the 1990s. If you like oldschool Nickelodeon, you’ll like my rap. It is to the beat of Rugrats.

“Trying Desperately” – (2013): A little rap I made after a long hiatus. I like the beat.

“Leaving On a Jet Plane” – (2012): This is just a casual performance. I am trying to sing while playing a little diddy on my guitar.

“The Girl” – (2012): A semi-decent acapella cover of City and Colour.

“Kiss to Build a Dream On” – (2012): A karaoke version of a Louis Armstrong classic. It is done by and in the style of Louis Armstrong and Kermit the Frog.

“Believe” – (2011): A karaoke Brooks and Dunn rendition done by yours truly. If you like country music, here you go.

“The Break Through” – (2010): My hip-hop single. Aight?

“Guy Love” – (2010): Let’s face the facts. Scrubs is the best show ever. A tribute to it. Allow the hilarity to ensue.

“The Do-Do’s” – (2008): An underrated video. From an outsiders prospective it is a stupid simple concept and took too long to make. From my perspective it is flippin’-amazing. Fun stuff. Also, has a little bonus song in the last portion of the video.

“I’m Yours” – (2008): A cover of Jason Mraz’s song. One of our first…And last band videos.

“Anti-Drug Commercial” – (2008): Great concept.

There you have it!

Feel free to post your thoughts and vote on your favorite of the bunch.

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Santa Pinup

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…Or at least it is according to the lovable tunes of the frequency modulation. And quite honestly, I concur. Who doesn’t love Christmas time?

If you do not love Christmas, get out.

No, seriously. #Serious. See, I am even using hashtags. Yeah. This just got real.

The hoary winter winds are the perfect way to usher in a White Christmas. However, a frosty blow does not necessarily correlate into a snowy peak. If you catch my drift. (That, my friends, was a wind-pun trifecta.) There is nothing finer than when the weather outside is frightful. It awards the opportunity to consummate one’s affection of hot chocolate. Toss a candy cane in that cup of bliss; it and I will both melt. Yes, it is a marvelous thing, until…You get to the bottom. Culminating under all those delicious tastes of chocolately goodness is the sip of hell.  And although I know that it is coming, I still place that cup on my lips and tilt it back. The peppermint aroma vigorously penetrates my nostrils and that nip of hot chocolate slips down my pallet; except there is little chocolate and peppermint galore. It burns like the DICKens…Hm. That might be a less holiday friendly burn. Regardless of burns, it is a sure fire way to clear your respiratory system if you think you might be falling victim to the pneumonic plague (Christmas cheer isn’t the only thing that is infectious this time of year).

Then, once the nostrils are clear of mucous membranes, you can embrace the fir. I know I do. I gravitate towards Christmas tree lots. It’s an addiction really. Smelling the sweet needles of joy. I don’t garden, but come Christmas time that is the department you will find me in. I am more of a Noble Fir man myself, but from time to time I have an afFIR with a Grand Fir. Other times I find that I just PINE for a Scotch. And no, that is not short for a Scotch Pine…Sometimes I just want a drink.

Add the lights (Go big or go home), carols (fa la la la), holiday goodies (popcorn balls and mint & chip cookies), and I can’t forget the movies. Christmas brings back claymation at its finest. Except for “The Leprechauns Christmas Gold.” Come on now leprechauns, you have your day. Yes you are green and look like little elves, but no. Not Christmas. I prefer to stick with the classics. My two favorite Christmas films are “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town” and “White Christmas.” And then we have the always awesome Doctor Who Christmas special.

All the fine traditions of Christmas take me back to a simpler time. Each year is like a trip with the Ghost of Christmas past (I always picture Jiminy Cricket); reminiscing. Yet as I grow older, my childish joys diminish. The magic of Christmas is a gift that can fade. That is until I see the excitement on little children’s faces when they speak of Santa Claus. That is something that I look forward to replicating with my own devilish offspring someday. The magic of Christmas…

Hmmm…It got a little sentimental right there. Unintentionally so.

Lets wrap things up. Thank goodness I am dealing with words and not wrapping paper because it would be a mess. Too late for that you say? Ho Ho Ho…Funny. Let me attempt it anyway. I just want to congratulate a specific someone on their early Christmas present and wish the rest of you a Merry Chr…Bah humbug!

Ha. No really, Merry Christmas!

 

Brain Flatulence

I am obsessed with examining minor menial tasks and how people perform them. Lately, I have been busting academia nuts into spoonfuls of A+ wordage. In the process of writing my essays, I have noticed there are times in which my mind sputters and I absent mindedly write the same word twice.

An example: “They call me DJ Oriental because I lay down down crazy tracks.”

I thought this tantalizing incident to be of interest only to myself, but after further debation and observation…I am not the only one suffering from this brain flatulence. It is a prevalent phenomenon that appears to be only privy to those who are aboard the key; or those who use a keyboard. I have yet to read a handwritten document that demonstrates these traits. Then again, if it doesn’t have the all powerful red squiggly line under it, I assume everything is hunky-dory. All hail the red squiggly line!

The part that is most intriguing is what occurs during that short circuiting. Where does our mind go during the brevity of the moment? Are life’s greatest mysteries solved in the blink of an eye? Well, that is a little farfetched…for everyone else that is. I, myself, am quite capable of such measures, but just as capable of forgetting them in the same breath, or blink. My attention to analogies is short, it is like the…I am sure for that instant I have stopped wondering what’s in a wonder ball and have no longer pondered over the locality of the beef. If only I could recapture my epiphanies I could make the world a bett…well, no, that’s a lie; it would probably be the same.

There appear to be different types of mind blips. They can be quite frightening too. It is one thing when they occur in the privacy of my own home, but what about when they happen while driving? I experience these on an almost daily basis. I will be driving and enter a daze only to snap out of it a few minutes later. In the process of that daze I am to recall point F and point K, but you see (or should I say U C. Heh heh) I am not able to recollect the mid section. Who knows how many people I have slaughtered or even worse how many stops signs I have bypassed. Hm, come to think of it, I always snap out of my stupor due to oddly placed speed bumps. In my defense, who places a speed bump in the middle of a crosswalk?

I know I am not the only one to have these blips, absent mindedness, stupors, dazes, brain flatulence. How has it affected you? Do you ever think, “I hope no law enforcement shows up at my door or I receive a ticket in the mail?” Or maybe it’s more simplistic for you, and you only have to worry about grammar Nazis.

Or maybe I am the only one experiencing this and people are only agreeing with me that they too are suffering from said issue so that I may maintain my last strain of sanity.

Merging Idea

I’ve been engrossed in absent minded automobile steering during my exstintsive. (You see what I did there? To save internet space I conducted a merger of extensive and stint…Hm, although, now, this explanation of such Tom Foolery negates my initial purpose. Pooey.)  I have been incorporating the aforementioned activity to alleviate the contention that is circumnavigating the vessels of my mind.

Is this an effective strategy?

After heavy scrutinization I have established a concluded concurment. The strategy is effective given proper auditory balance. In layman’s terms that means: do not listen to melancholy melodies sad songs. To achieve happiness one has to want it. The band that puts me right in the head (Am I ever truly right in the head?) is Vampire Weekend. Even their glumified songs sound chipper. And so I just tune in, turn off, drop out, drop in, switch off, switch on and explode.

Explode you say? No. I type it apple-slice; get with it.

Anyhow, I have noticed explosions of road rage. Actually, I am unsure if what I do would be consider road rage. Perhaps it dons no classification. I question this so because during the act of, typed road rage, I am lacking true anger and aggression. Let me explain…

When performing the activity, I have this need to adhere to my code of driving. Rule #34 states that if driving on a two lane road and a merger is approaching that I should speed past the car in the opposite lane so that I am not forced to suffer sitting behind one more car. So I try to speed past them in attempt to secure the first place position. Usually I am successful in my expeditions, but I never quite think it through.

So what happens? I get to drive slowly behind the semi that is now directly in front of me.

I suppose I live for the instantaneous high. Unlike others I know, who drive like EMT’s juiced on coffee and smoothie kicks, my driving is pretty sane, so I thoroughly enjoy these little victories. Also, if you ever saw my car, you would realize that speeding or being a dare-devil is not in the CARds.

Here is one song from Vampire Weekend. I like the meaning.

Renting An Experience

It saddens me to think that my child will never share certain experiences that have a treasured place in the pit of my heart. What I am referring to is the experience that is: renting a movie.

Yes, I understand there are still Blockbusters now, but the ambiance has been mitigated to substandard event. I would much rather entertain the thought of visiting a local box of red or my handy dandy Netflix. Still, if I were to try and provide them with a humdrum Blockbuster memory, I would need to find a woman willing and able to release my offspring.

I may be getting ahead of myself…What if I am the only one who felt this way about the movie renting experience?

I remember it clearly.

It was like walking into a wonderland. Shelves upon shelves of entertainment were within my reach. Every conceivable cartoon was placed in a 7.5×4.2×1 inch VHS container of magic. I knew just where my section was too. I would run to it and rummage through the various films. What did I want to watch today? Little Nemo, Ninja Turtles, Mario Bros, The Brave Little Toaster? Yeah, I had seen all of them before, but I liked them. I’d flip over the demo box that was displayed for every movie scratching at its Styrofoam innards as I gazed upon the pictures trying to draw a conclusion as to what the film was about.

Once I had made my decision I would snatch the actual copy of the film and run off to the games section. These were the days of cheap game rentals and tons of games. I remember Sega having a game for almost every movie ever made. I also remember finding out that games based on movies sucked. One of my favorite rentals as a child was a game for my Sega Genesis called ToeJam & Earl. If I were feeling lucky I would try to convince my parents to allow me one movie and one game.

Regardless of my success rate, I was still excited as we lined up to purchase our rentals. Candy and soda pop lined the shelving near the counter. There were Milk Duds, Butterfingers, Dots, Sno-Caps (I never cared for Sno-Caps, but they have been heavily associated with my video rental expeditions), and more. I never did buy candy from Blockbuster, but it served as a reminder that I was about to take part in a cinematic adventure. Yes, those were the times…

All of that has disappeared now. VHS tapes are a thing of the past. Who still uses them? Nobody. Well, there are those ancient teachers who have adopted the No Technology Left Behind Act.

I am not here to hate on VHS tapes. Actually it is quite the opposite. I miss having that ability to skip over anything I did not want to watch. That’s right DVDs, I’m calling you out on this. I do not want to read your copyright infringement laws that are put in size six font and placed on the screen for approximately seven seconds. We are Americans, we don’t read the small print. And for all its shortcomings, VHS tapes understood that. Yes, you may have had to spend six minutes rewinding the film to reach that part, but the being able to fast forward through the seven to ten seconds of warnings was worth it.

No closure.

Flagging You Down

We identify ourselves by that which hangs on a pole.

Flags. Not strippers.

These simple things that flap ferociously in the atmospheric conditions that are presented by mother earth; we associate ourselves with its identity.

Once again, flags. Not strippers.

I have seen quite a few flags, the one I do not understand is the Confederate flag.

The Confederate flag represents the Confederacy. You know, those mid-19th century democratic folks who receded from the Union in order to protect their way of life. Well, when put like that, it does not sound half bad. It even sounds patriotic until you realize they are protecting the institution of slavery.

So it befuddles me so when I see someone waving a Confederate flag. Are people aware of the contention that flag contains? It is supporting the southern antebellum lifestyle.

This makes it a little more difficult to argue against the Confederate flag.

No, no, no…Do not get overwrought when I question if you are a racist. You should firmly be aware of the adumbration the flag carries. You may be a supporter of the southern activities of today, and that is fine. You just need to find a flag that recognizes that and not that you are a racist hillbilly.

So because of the Confederate flag wavers, I have placed an order for a swastika flag.

You see how you jumped to the assumption that I was anti-Semitic? By Confederate flag logic, I am just a supporter of Germany. That would not fly with the swastika flag (pun intended) and it should not for the Confederate flag.

I would like to add to this topic that I would love to time travel to the 1860s.

You may not ask me why, but I will tell you anyway.

I would like to go back to 1862 and walk into a Confederate meeting. I would take the stand and announce to them that I was from the future. I would then state that their party, the Democrats, would elect the first “colored” president of the United States. Congratulations.

I am assuming I would have to then pull a John Wilkes Booth and hightail it out of there. Hopefully without breaking my leg, or being shot by a castrated man.

Quite Lovely

My horn is as active as ever and I never get tired of tooting it myself. I know my last blog doted on about my 50-blog celebration, and I thought what better way to follow it up than with further rapturous praise for me?

Now then, let’s begin.

I would prefer to denote my blog as humorous. That is the call of judgment I proclaim.

That may be up for debation.

Yes, I said, er, typed debation. I know it is not an official word by Webster’s standards, but that did not prevent Shakespeare from blabbering forth with mumble-jumbles. The word has power. There is a certain strength behind it. An “umph.” It is erectifying. It is a stiff hard word that you can insert into your daily vocabulary.  And so I use it here. And I may use it elsewhere. That too, is up for debation.

There is one term I can call my blog and know that I am not the only one who concurs with the statement. And that is: my blog is lovely.

I pieced together my own picture for the award. It’s my award afterall.

This past week I was nominated for the One Lovely Blog Award by EndlessEncounters. A long time follow, who I thank for the nomination. Now people will begin ogling over the boggling blogging awards I have toggling on my cyberspace shelving. (I don’t know if that sentence makes sense. Is it is sentsense?  Regardless, we shall roll with thine’s own choice of words once more.)

The rules for this award are like the other two hundred and thirty-seven awards. List forty-six things about yourself and nominate twenty-two other bloggers. Easy enough.

Forty-two things about me:

  1. My top three favorite Disney movies are Aladdin, Lion King, and Hercules.
  2. My favorite video game of all time is Zelda: Ocarina of Time (Nintendo 64).
  3. My favorite animal is the moose.
  4. I wear axe body spray and have received more compliments from it than any expensive cologne I have ever purchased.
  5. I initially grew my beard to impress someone. I liked it, so I kept it.
  6. Someone told me I was white on the outside and black on the inside. So I downed a quart of bleach in hopes of keeping me all one color. Okay. Not true.

….

…. (incoherent text)

….

46.          I mumble.

Nominated Bloggers (I am promoting people I am new to following)

1. 25ToFly – A cool laid back woman. She has a strange infatuation with M&M’s and popcorn, but I can forgive her for such tomfoolery. We also started a long distance band. She is the drummer. We are called: The Inepts.

2. Boomie Bol – A good contributor to the WordPress world. She writes some interesting short stories and poems. She is a dabbler. Worth a look-see-read.

… (mumble mumble)

… (mumble mumble)

22. gorJessWorld – I very recently began following her blog. So far so good. If it is anything like Bobby’s world, I am going to enjoy it.

I apologize to nineteen other people I mumbled over…Wait, who am I kidding? No I don’t.