DotTeeVee: Why should we hire you? Example of a good answer.

With the massive economic boom that should be starting any day now it makes sense to start honing your interviewing skills so you can close the deal on your next dreary three to five years of life that looked so very appealing from the outside looking in. The problem is that creating the illusion of personal value in the presence of an employer can be difficult. Fortunately, the internet is here to save us in the form of a cliche-ridden video from five years ago. Ready your ninety day plan and strap on your "brag book," it's time to learn the hot, hot secrets that are guaranteed* to get you that dream job!

* Not an actual guarantee.

To insure proper motivation for the total and complete abortion we're about to witness we get a bizarre opening where different voices praise us in a manner that suggests a 976 line solely devoted to business competence. "Impressive answer!" declares a disembodied female. "Wow, they really prepared!" declares a man rather ungrammatically, unless the person being interviewed is the Crown Prince of Schleswig-Holstein or something, then it would be correct.

While we soak in this unearned praise we are also treated to what the monolith from 2001 might have looked like if that movie was produced by Office Depot.

Buuummm......buummmm....BA BUM!!!!

We meet our identification figure, a young man with narrow shoulders who probably doesn't even lift wearing a suit more suggestive of Little Timmy's first communion than the armor of a corporate soldier. "Why should we hire you?" is the question posed by the interviewer, who in the fine tradition of villains like Dr. Claw, will remain unseen throughout this video.

We get a semi-coherent and rambling answer about how he has "the energy" and people are always telling him he has a "Type A" personality, which must be good because Grade A beef is the best kind and personalities work the same way. Basically, he's got "heart attack before 40" written all over him, but this is an interview and not a physical examination, so floating text gives him points for "confidence."

I'd like to mention that this guy repeatedly says "uh" when he speaks, which I'm pretty sure is only there to prove that he is entirely human and not the son of the God of Business sent to save us all by leveraging competencies and the like.

Not coming in reeking of cheap whiskey is also a good start.

We then get his "work motto." Sadly, it's not "My way or the highway," like Dalton in Road House. Instead, he's committed to doing things right the first time, no matter how long it takes. Yeah. I get it right in one try, no matter how many attempts that one try requires.

He really hammers home his half-mad commitment to the White Collar world by claiming to have worked four straight 80 hour weeks once. He also does a mostly acceptable job of suppressing the giggle reflex while delivering that whopper. This guy is gonna fit in great once our Chinese Overlords gain control, at least. I see a bright future for you in whatever salt mine kollectiv you're assigned to, Mr. Type A. 

"You have to do what you have to do," he clarifies. Maybe you should stop getting your life philosophy from Malt Liquor ads, dude. Next he'll probably hand over his brag book, smile, and say "don't let the smooth taste fool ya!"

The malt beverage with the energy and Type A personality to get the job done!

This guy won't shut up about his dedication to "respect and honesty," two virtues that are almost completely obsolete in today's corporate environment. He goes so far as to admit he'd let someone know if he couldn't help them, which seems at odds with his earlier marathon man claims, but at this point I'm just trying to make him die with my mind and not really listening.

The applicant actually has the stones to claim that this so-called "honesty" actually led to closing a "big deal" five years after the fact. The stories out of this playa, I tell you. He's had the adventures of a man twice his age.

Yeah, he's going to die young and he won't cook the books, but is he organized? Incredibly, the answer is "yes." I know, I wasn't expecting that either.

Continue cupping both hands over your genitals.

The next anecdote might be the craziest one yet. He claims to have been hired by a company "about to declare bankruptcy" and completely turned things around with his "procedures" and can-do attitude. He doesn't mention the government bail-out money the company also received at that time, for some reason. We wrap up this delightful apocryphal tale with a claim this former employer is now "number three in market share." It sounds impressive until he admits it's a Peppered Soda concern that finished third behind Dr. Pepper and generic store brand Graduate Student Pepper. 

He claims to be a "solid" candidate, even though it looks like a light breeze could knock him over. We end as we began, with more sweet business praise that people like me lap up like catnip. "Tell me you like my procedures...aw yeah."

  

Komment Korner   

really happy that i found a cool way to get 1000s of followers on facebook!

The hand gestures are very distracting.

and uh, and uh *repeatedly looks up at ceiling*

im going to try this hope mcdonalds hires me !

Find jobs at job4gov.com

need a job go to my face book name quentinfranklin i have jobs wab sites

Aaron Zehner's first novel The Foolchild Invention is available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

News You Can't Use: What Do Millionaires Know That We Don't? Optimism Hits High

It's not easy being a millionaire. You probably only own one mansion and chances are it's only somewhat impressive instead of being a staggering monument to decadence and waste like we all deserve. Should there be a nuclear holocaust you'd probably die right alongside the pathetic troglodyte who only has a net worth of $750,000. If you commit some horrible crime, there's even a small chance you'll see the interior of a prison cell. Yes, it's hard out there for the seven figure crew. Nevertheless, there is optimism.

Millionaires are feeling good. Maybe too good.

"They're checking the fence for weakness, but they're doing it in a systematic fashion, a fashion that suggests intelligence, learning even." The hunter stared grimly at the pen, rifle lowered but ready.
 
"You're just being paranoid. They're millionaires, they don't think. It's just instinct that's creating the illusion of some thought process."

The Spectrem Group's Millionaire Confidence Index, which measures the investment outlook of the wealthy, reached its highest limit in its 9½-year history. After bumping along in single digits since the recession, millionaire confidence suddenly spiked to 23.

I didn't think I'd see a 23 in my lifetime, but there it is. This is truly a historic moment on par with the moon landing or any given Clinton apology speech.

Basically, that means millionaires—those with $1 million or more in investible assets—are poised to move some of their huge piles of cash off the sidelines and into the market. The last time the index hit 23 was when it launched in 2004.

Typos, patronizing explanations, a statement that contradicts the previous paragraph...yeah, this is internet journalism all right.

There are three possible explanations. First, the survey was taken before the Syrian flareup or the debt ceiling or the End of Summers. Things may change for them in September.

"Ah yes, that little bit of unpleasantness in the Assyrian colonies and that minor fuss about government collapse. Probably nothing, but I'll put off getting that new set of Diamond teeth until it blows over."

The second possible explanation is that the wealthy are seeing sunlight through the investment clouds better than the rest of the population.

Because when you think of plutocrats the first thing that springs to mind are awkward metaphors that suggest drug intoxication.

The third possible explanation is my own. My theory is that the wealthy spent so much time cavorting in the Hamptons and the South of France in August that their brains got sunburned. Now that they're back in the office, we may see a more realistic number in September.

Let's leave the jokes to unpaid amateurs, we're a lot better at it.

After being jailed over a dozen times you learn to look on the bright side.

Komment Korner  

The author of this article should be fired for incompetence, along with the editor of this "tabloid" type news reporting.

Well, golly Moses, if I was a millionaire I'd be feeling pretty optimistic too. Geez Louise, what a waste of space.

We had to boost the assets of Millionaires and Billionaires or the world was going to end. BTW how's that burger flipper job working out for you?

Gee thanks Barack

Aaron Zehner's first novel The Foolchild Invention is available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

DotTeeVee: It Ain't Worth It

Today we're going to revisit two things I'd rather not: the funky fresh early nineties and the "sex = death" movement that was popular back then. Forgive any bitterness that sneaks into this recap, but I was in high school at the time and let's just say I already had the whole "don't have sexual intercourse" thing on lock down without any help from taxpayer dollars, professional athletes and rap songs by Rob Bass wannabes. I'm not saying things would necessarily have been better if this climate hadn't existed, but there's no romantic drought so bad that it can't be made worse by endless "even touching a penis could kill you!" propaganda.

But enough about that. Let's throw on some parachute pants, snap on some ill shades, grab a round ball and hit the court with NBA 2001 Sportsmanship Award winner David Robinson and a bunch of extras we hired! Let's hoop it up! This is much better than receiving oral sex.

All is not well, however. Young ladies who resemble back-up dancers from a Tone Loc video are threatening to kill the healthy, non-sexual good times by literally giving the "come on over" gesture to one of the non-David Robinson players. Instead of recoiling away from the horrific prospect of kissing or God only knows what else with an attractive woman, as any decent, moral young man would, he actually seems into it. It ain't worth it, man.

This results in a ball bouncing off his head. I don't claim to be an expert on the rules of second story hockey, but I'm almost certain this is a Bad Thing. If only this guy was on a soccer team, he'd probably be the hero. Instead the pride of the United States Naval Academy takes umbrage. In a funny detail I notice that's he at least a foot taller than any of the other players. Made next time you should pass it to the nearly seven foot NBA player instead of a skinny, nondescript white teen who isn't even paying attention. Honestly, what the hell?

This is the eighties and I'm down with the ladies.

The man who was once the softest player on a team that also featured Tim Duncan isn't happy. He lays it out: play ball or women, choose wisely. The obvious correct choice is playing "shirts and skins" with a creepy overly tall guy that used to be a "seaman" and making constant bodily contact with other men while dripping sweat and gasping for breath.

Incredibly, the other option is selected. Your funeral, dude. Really. I bet this video ends with his teammates tucking the basketball into this guy's casket after Super AIDS kills him dead. In any case our doomed anti-hero declares he's "down with the honies" which is already hilarious enough without the actor delivering the line resembling a younger, whiter Larry Bird. 

Mr. Robinson makes a face of equal parts disgust and disbelief. He'd rather feel the touch of a woman than hang out with a guy who won a silver medal in the 1987 Pan-Am Games. What's up with that? 

This is the nineties and wanting sex is evil and disgusting.

 

We get a funky beat and meet two more ladies, but don't get any ideas because these are good girls, not like the horrific succubi that seduce dorky men at pick-up basketball games and then steal their precious bodily fluids. Their definition of safe sex? "No sex!" Those are definitely two words I've gotten used to hearing together.

Hey look! It's NBA journeyman A.C. Green! No, it doesn't stand for "Air Conditioning" or even "Anti-Cuddling" which would be apropos here. In fact, it stands for nothing at all. His first (and middle?) name is just letters. Neat. He calls sex the "S" word, which I'm pretty sure is a title already held by "shit." Speaking of which, he promises "fun" and a "slamming" music video. He's wearing a shirt that says "no" which I'm assuming is the correct response to offers of S word #2 and not a reference to "Say No to Drugs!" another well-conceived and highly successful program going on at the same time.

He also won a personal battle with chronic hiccups. No kidding.

Another young lady discusses the dynamics of popularity and how the Adult Act figures in. There's a common belief that the two are linked and "only the cool people are having sex." I guess she's never heard of "band camp." We get an awkward summation with "if you have to follow everyone else and have sex, then who's the outcast?" Excuse me, what? Honestly, it's like a zen koan. I've spent about an hour trying to figure out what, if anything, it means. You're not the outcast, because you're going along. Everyone else is who you're following, so it isn't them, either. Who is left? Maybe A.C. Green or something? I don't know. One hand clapping, tree falling in the woods. 

With my head hurting from trying to parse a statement that defied conventional western logical tradition I'm more than a little relieved to see David Robinson again. This time, he's telling us to think before we act, which is good advice. He then equates sharing an intimate act with someone you care deeply about to "pain and death." 

It's now time for footage from the slamming music video! I'm really not equipped to review this, other than to say the rapping calls to mind an alternate dimension version of Young M.C. who is all about teaching us not to bust a move. The song rhymes "sex" with "latex" and generally hammers home the central message of "just don't do it" that you might have missed the first twenty times. One particular highlight is the return of the "down with the honies" guy and the honies alluded to in that line, now obviously reformed and spared from the horrific deaths that seemed their inescapable fate. 

He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Robinson.

It's NFL running back legend Barry Sanders! He's holding a basketball for some reason. I guess they blew most of the budget on that slamming video and there wasn't enough left over for a football. He has absolutely nothing original to say, but I guess was included for the benefit of the one kid who was all "I'm not letting sissy NBA guys tell me not to do the Wild Thing!" who then was forced to revise this position after hearing from the only good player the Detroit Lions have had in the last thirty years.

One last reminder that sex will kill you from Barry, and we're done.

Komment Korner  

 I sure miss the days of watching basketball star Barry Sanders doing slam dunks for the Detroit Lions

 

 I'm through with this video, I'm down with the honies

why didnt they get wilt chamberlain or magic johnson?

I wonder if A.C Green is still a virgin

It Ain't Worth It!


Aaron Zehner's first novel The Foolchild Invention is available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

News You Can't Use: No Speeding Tickets for Lawmakers During Legislative Session

Using an internal combustion engine to create acceleration is better than True Love and most ice cream flavors. The only problem is the so-called "law" has an unpleasant way of interfering with this pursuit of happiness. But I found a way to get out of it. Let me tell you about it...

Telling a police officer that you were speeding because you are running late for work will likely not let you get out of a ticket. But if you're a state representative trying to get to work during the legislative session, the officer will have to let you go.

That's right, speeding tickets fall into the same category as Obamacare. An unpleasant, costly inconvenience that our elected reptiles are saying "thank you, no" to.

It all comes down to language in the State Constitution that's a throwback to centuries ago, when politicians in England would try to arrest opponents to prevent them from voting in parliament.

It was later revealed that this law from 1693 was actually repealed in 1694. Don't know how we missed that.

Washington's earliest lawmakers didn't want that happening to them, so it was written into the State Constitution and remains today.

It's like our Framers, in their infinite wisdom, could somehow anticipate the "act like a Big Man" needs of our current crop of elected officials. I'm sure they would nod with pride from their graves as State Rep. Snotgrass drives through a school zone at 90 mph while texting and using his knees to steer.

Troopers say they can't know the face of every state senator or representative, but they do let one go about five or six times a year.

You can now add "I'm a State Senator!" to your playbook of speeding ticket bluffs. It might even be more effective than old standbys like pretending to be a Soviet diplomat or unzipping your pants in hopes of getting the less expensive "public indecency" citation.

"You can't do this, I'm an elected official obeying an obsolete law from colonial times!"

"If the trooper were to learn during the course of a traffic stop that the person is a legislator, that they're on their way to legislative session, the trooper would simply get them on their way as soon as possible," Calkins said.

As opposed to ordinary people, or "losers" as we like to call you. Playing online poker while someone reads out of the phone book to stall a vote is important. Whatever it is you do, is not.

 "I don't think anyone would do that, because I think people would be outraged," Sawyer says. "You're not above the law, that's ridiculous."

Fortunately the high moral character of our elected officials will prevent any abuses. That was a close one. We can sleep easy in that knowledge.

Full Story.

Komment Korner

All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.

So if a legislator begins shooting people on the street on the way to the office, the police may not detain or restrain her.

Remember kids, you either are the one making the law or required to obey the law, but never both.

They're all in a hurry to go to the Capital and accomplish nothing.


Aaron Zehner's first novel The Foolchild Invention is available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

Choose Your Own Adventure #6: Your Code Name is Jonah

Last time out my promising, if small time, ghostbusting career was severely derailed by a series of plot elements that could charitably be called "hot garbage." Still smarting from that bad experience, I wanted to try a book I remembered from my childhood and knew would be a can't miss good time.

Actually, I wanted to do "Jonah" from the very beginning, but there was just one small problem that I'll illustrate below.

The government gets better deals on pens and pencils.

It's even more a rip-off when you consider there's a chance you'll get the lame reprint "Spy Trap," the copy you'll get in "acceptable" condition will resemble half a shoebox worth of confetti and every other CYOA book sells for a penny used. I honestly have no idea why the price on this one is so inflated, although it is one of the better and more memorable early entries. Are people really paying several hundred dollars for a battered mass market paperback? I can't get over this.

Anyway, after months of regular checking I finally found a copy for less than a dollar. It turned out to be the original version and in pretty good condition, so suck on that 80s children's book profiteers.

Seventy dollars. One star vendor rating. Lowest possible condition. What. The. Fudge.

I almost feel I should seal this bad boy in a vault or buy special insurance for it rather than read it, but I've got an uncompensated job to do and I take that very seriously. Like I hinted at earlier, this one is very different. You play an adult, for one, which might be the only time in this series that happens. And no, I don't want some crank to e-mail me a correction if that's wrong. You're a spy, there's cold war goodness and plenty of bad endings where you die horribly or get told you're a failure because you have a conscience. All right, the former isn't that unusual, but the latter is. Sort of.

None of this "pistol in each hand" silliness. Try a pistol and an AK. 

I'm in a sub-basement beneath the White House, a few doors down from the department that reads all your e-mails and the one that selects any right of center group for severe I.R.S. audits. My boss is "glaring" at me, which seems a bit much considering this is nothing more than a mission briefing. He wants to know what I know about whale songs and I humor him in the most patronizing way possible. I'm here to disarm bombs, seduce women with ridiculous sexually-themed names and fire off one-liners. Learning about aquatic mammals isn't even on the radar.

Despite my obvious lack of interest we plow forward with a story about a whale researcher who is trying to figure out why these excellent sources of lamp oil are vanishing. It appears a new whale song might unlock the mystery, but then Captain Science pulled his own disappearing act and we have reason to believe that the Reds might be involved, including KGB all-star "Double-Eye," who is presumably a young Vladimir Putin. I've got to find the missing egg-head, give fist imprints and lead injections to the Bolsheviks and solve the mystery of the new song. It's no "They might be stealing Bolivia's water!" but it will have to do.

The plot, more or less.

I decide to start with an interrogation and possible water-boarding of the last person to see the wayward scientist before his disappearance, a "Dr. Klein." He says they were using an "omputer" to analyze the song, but with the team head gone, the project has stalled out. Maybe you could go on the "ternet" and see if you can find any help there. I'm guessing I somehow obtained the extremely rare "typo on page four" version, so I'll be adding a few hundred dollars to the resale price. 

Fortunately this riveting discussion of the sounds emitted by Moby Dick is cut short by The Agency calling to alert me to a "Anton Roudnitska" a Soviet Agent planning to make his escape from a seaside farmhouse by boat to a waiting submarine. There's reason to believe this guy knows where the missing researcher is. I politely tell Klein that listening to his mix tape of cetacean vocal melodies will just have to wait. It's time to tackle the evil empire's shadow soldiers.

This is a real image that has not been altered in any way.

I take the next flight to Halifax, walking right on board with multiple guns in my hands because it's 1980 and that's how the world was back then if the evidence I've pieced together from discarded cans of "Billy Beer" is at all reliable. At the airport I'm met by a car. A young woman claims she's from the "Canadian Intelligence Office" and that I should get in the car. Already working on horrible "Canadian beaver" wordplay after I inevitably seduce her I get in and am promptly sandwiched between two armed thugs, both pressing the heat in my guts. Then I get clubbed over the head, which seems somewhat excessive at this point.

"We fight shadow wars, eh."

Now begins the obligatory "I expect you to die, Mr. Bond!" scene as I wake up in a farm house, chained to a bed. Yeah, apparently living in a closed society with rigid restrictions on free expression leads to kinkiness. Well, at least it does in 2013 America. The reference to "rubbing my throbbing head" certainly does little to remove my thoughts from the gutter. 

Anyway, Stalin's Secret Fun Club wants me to answer a call from the missing scientist and then encourage "Russian cooperation" as the only viable solution to the whale crisis. Yes, kids, there was a time when getting someone to sell out America required this sort of violent, convoluted set-up. They're all "do it or die" so I go along, hoping the researcher will realize I'm just trolling. 

The real "save the whales" heroes, right here.

I have a short conversation with the Big Brain, hoping he'll pick up on my sarcastic tone of voice, unlike everyone else I talk to. The KGB goons are appeased by my performance and announce it's time to "chain me back to the bed." Someone, somewhere on the internet, has probably used this scene as inspiration to write "Your Code Name is Jonah" gay bondage erotica. 

While getting frog-marched the other red operative yells "Hey Vladimir!" Man, did I call that or what. I use this distraction to break free of the Kung Fu grip of the future President of Russia and escape through a window under a "hail of bullets." Ok, that kicked ass. 

Everything is quickly wrapped up. The enemy spies have fled with false intel, the researcher is rescued and it turns out Anton Roudnitska, that guy I was hunting before my ignominious capture, is actually one of our people in deep cover. Nice try Boris, you almost had us, but freedom and democracy are victorious. Oh, and about the whale song and the missing whales? Not important any more, I guess.

This was as good as I remembered. Not three hundred dollars worth of good, of course, but worth checking out in the unlikely event you find a semi-reasonable price. The spy story is generally solid and original. There's lots of classic illustrations, gun play and a tone that while perhaps not mature is at least serious and consistent.

 

Aaron Zehner's first novel The Foolchild Invention is available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

News You Can't Use: Ready To Pay $6 For A Gallon Of Milk?

Milk is for babies. When you're a man, you drink beer. This, along with "lift heavy and take a multi" forms the crux of my life philosophy, so maybe I'm not well suited to cover today's useless news item. Then again, that particular issue hasn't stopped me so far, so let's discuss milk futures, Uncle Sucker and shooting rockets into a country that none of our elected officials could locate on a map. Yes, those concepts actually are intimately related.

How much would you pay for a gallon for milk?

Wait, don't answer yet! With each order we'll also throw in an attractive plastic container! Yes, you don't even need to bring your own jug, unlike with plastic bags! 

Ken Nobis is with the Michigan Milk Producers Association and notes that Congress has its plate full of very pressing issues and fears the Farm Bill may be on the back burner.

Who could provide a more unbiased opinion on farm legislation than someone from the Milk Producers Association?

He says without congressional action – an old law would kick in – and you could end up paying a lot more.

Unless we make new laws the old, bad laws will come back! And yet there's a few cranks that worry about big government. Clearly we must keep steadily churning out new legislation to keep the lid on.

“Probably, talking in the neighborhood of $5-6 a gallon for milk,” said Nobis. “The consequences are consumers aren’t going to buy the product at that cost.”

"It's this crazy thing called the 'free market' I read about in a book published in 1892."

There have been disagreements over food stamp funding tied to the measure.

Is there a better idea than combining different ill-conceived measures? It's like in the classic cartoon "Transformers" when all those cool cars would jump together to form one huge robot. That was awesome and radical, so clearly we should try to make that happen with every aspect of the human experience.

This is how a bill becomes a law, kids.

“Syria, they’ve got the budget, they’ve got many other issues to address,” Nobis told WWJ’s Beth Fisher.

Illegal foreign war, printing worthless currency...we've got bigger fish to fry.

Ready To See Tons of Annoying Ads at the Original Source?

Komment Korner

Don't worry everyone. The government will give us free milk if we can't afford it. Obamacow will be there for you!

It's not like oil, keep pushing and people will just start buying their own cows.

Wow. What a BRILLIANT IDEA! Let's just tell everyone to Stop Eating Dairy!! OMG!! YOU SOLVED IT!! **SNAFUBAR FOR PRESIDENT!!**

While few believe it or will accept it, the same folks that took control of our monetary system in 1913 with the passage of the treasonous Federal Reserve Act, the Rothchilds, the Bank of England, Goldman Sachs, JP Morgan etc etc, have gotten wealthy beyond imagination to the point where they own over 60% controlling interest in every single fortune 500 company on earth today, and they've bought and paid for not only our entire Federal government, which now acts as their agents, but also a near majority of State governments and a near majority of sovereign nation governments world-wide as well. And they're using this enormous wealth to literally change the world to their own agendas and schemes, wars for profit and regional geographic control of natural resources, starvation and disease, a total police state, and elimination of basic human rights, aka the New World Order, aka world economic slavery and oppression. And while few believe it or will accept it, there has been a concerted effort which began over 50 years ago to eliminate the family farm and poison the healthy products offered by the American farm with Monsanto GM franken-foods, manufactured food with chemical poisons as additives, milk and dairy products purposely poisoned by deliberate corporate farming methods of introducing chemicals never meant for ingestion by humans, fast-food manufactured using questionable secret ingredients, inventing futures trading markets with the intent of depressing profits for the farmer, all the while supporting corporate interests with the bizarre subsidy schemes controlling production and profit. Skyrocketing cancer and other disease rates due to contamination of our food supply will only increase as their plan, U.N. Agenda 21, becomes reality and the planned suffering and death results in massive human population reduction. Basically our entire food supply system has been purposely compromised. You don't think they're harassing the farmers selling raw milk, one of the few healthy products left, for no reason do you?

Milk is bad for your health anyways.


Aaron Zehner's first novel The Foolchild Invention is available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

DotTeeVee: YouTube League of American Football

Are you ready for some football? And by that, I mean are you ready to passively watch others play it while you pour brewed pollution into your misshapen maw? Of course you are. What could be better than a sport that features lots of monetized downtime, an endless and largely meaningless season and a fully supported Dungeons and Dragon-style "fantasy" element where instead of controlling your character you just pick random steroid monsters and use your hoping powers to make them perform? Incredibly, there is one thing that is better. Short, bizarre football videos fresh from the electronic oven!

Our first video is thirty seconds worth of footage from an NIU vs. Iowa college football game that features no live ball-in-play footage whatsoever. I know, I'm excited too, but we have to get under control and get through this. While one of the players jogs in a seemingly random direction the announcer, the real star of this video, declares that the pass "wanted to be caught." It wanted it so bad. It was practically begging for that sweet, sweet embrace of a successful completion. You're not gonna see a pass more fully compliant and prepared for The Act of Catching than that one. Not in a million years.

You're probably wondering if you can use your shoulder to catch a football. The answer is no, even if the ball in question wants it so bad it's practically throbbing as it arcs its way toward the edges of your body. We get a shot of a crowd doing some sort of clapping motion that would be rejected by most dictators as an impractical "loyalty hand gesture." We have elbows, guys, let's use 'em.

Later on the game that will determine that best college football team ever: Akron vs. Toledo.

We discuss the evolutionary and/or special creation aspects of catching an irregularly shaped object while a replay of that whole "it wanted it, but I gave the shoulder" incident is shown. Our natural tendency, the end result of millions of years of natural selection, mutation, ancient alien biological experimentation and/or the direct will of a personal deity is to use our body to catch a ball, which sounds like a good idea until you notice the we have these things called "hands" that can actually grab on to things, including a hypothetical object hurled at us in a sporting competition of some kind.

The announcer continues to sing the praises of the human hand and it's hard to disagree with him. Unlike that do-nothing shoulder it can "caress." Yup, already back to the oddly sexual language. Meanwhile, literally nothing is happening on the field. Well, all right, a guy named "Andy" is warming up to kick the ball. I can see how this sport got to be so popular.

Then we get the entire reason this thing got posted, as the other announcers says "that's kind of gay." We're talking about caressing balls, wise guy. I don't see what part of that is gay, I really don't. Meanwhile, the kick returner makes the sign of the cross for some reason, adding to the surreal nature of two grown men explaining what the hand is and then veering into homo-erotica for no good reason.

Andy's gonna kick it! After another three minute commercial break, that is.

The video ends without the ball being punted, if you care.

Komment Korner  

In his defense, it was kinda gay.  

LMAO @ the long, awkward pause after. You know he's thinking "Welp...I'm getting fired."

"honey the gays made me lose my job" 

You know what else rules? Penalties. Everything about them is geared for maximum righteousness, from the selective way they are called, the little yellow napkins and the memorable calls they produce...like in our next video! 

It's another college game, as if the 37-0 score wasn't enough of a giveaway. "You got to like all those Maryland linebackers." Yes, you do. You have no choice in the matter. Win the battle over yourself and learn to love the Maryland linebackers.

We actually get to see a play in progress! It's a sweep left for a moderate gain. Time to give myself another point or two on the "fantasy" ledger, where my "team" consists of all the Maryland linebackers, Andy Dittbenner, a High Elf fighter/magic user and maybe Peyton Manning if he's still available in round ten.

But wait! There's a penalty! More milling around ensues, naturally. We kill some time talking about the massive human cost of this spectacle, specifically ten injured players. Yeah, even something as innocent as running full speed into huge men can apparently end badly.

  "Trying to saw the opponent's hand off, five yard penalty..."

The zebra explains that #69 was "giving him the business" provoking much hardly laughter and a "I didn't do nothing!" posture from the guilty player. The announcer declares it the "quote of the year." Forget "ask not what your country can do for you" or even "you didn't build that." This is the real sparkling gem of conversation brilliance. Giving him the business. Yeah.

Making things worse, we're then told there would be a lot of flags if "giving the business" was really a violation of the social contract expected of these fine sportsmen. "We can't even give you a verbal interpretation of it." Sometimes you have to just acknowledge the singular beauty of the moment in silence.

Komment Korner   

 
Quote of the year? Quote of the century

HOW IN THE WORLD IS THIS NOT THE TOP VIDEO ON YOUTUBE?? wow this is hilarious

Can anybody explain it to me? My English is not soo good and I don´t watch football^.^

Try to catch the ball with your shoulders, give some guy the business, that's fine. But you never go "full retard." Except in this next video, apparently. This is from a series called "C'mon Man" which airs in between "What's the Haps" and "Hold Up, Darnell." 

Florida is playing Florida State. The play unfolds while the individual that has decided to fully embody an intelligence quotient of 70 or less stays in his stance, motionless. I guess this is what they call "taking a play off."

 Officials suspect "freeze ray" abuse.

The "C'mon Man" commentators wrap it up emphatically, if somewhat predictably, by saying their catch phrase. We may never know if the man in question actually "came on" or not, but I like to pretend that he did. 

Komment Korner 

Yes I agree. Well you be at the gay parade, and later therapy, to discuss how we were sodomized as kids? I'd love to hear your story! 

First of all, its not wrong or unacceptable. Its wrong AND unacceptable if you use it to describe a mentally slow person. It's a noun. You can use it to describe stupidity. Where stupidity is defined as doing stupid stuff.

lag

maybe his bitch was like "if you don't move on a play, I'll give you some pussy".

Aaron Zehner's first novel The Foolchild Invention is available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

News You Can't Use: $30,000 Coffin Comes With Music System

"Music is my life," declares some forgettable upright ape who neither composes songs nor plays an instrument of any kind. Good news, now it can also be your death! It's been said that death has a dignity all its own, but the combination of modern technology and some Euro-trash weirdo is working hard to change that. My long held dream of trolling my mourning family and friends with "Bass Cube" and "Bass Boy" tracks is almost within reach.

What do you buy for someone who has everything? How about a gift that keeps on giving after they die.

You mean like...vampirism?

A $30,000 coffin comes equipped with speakers and a a Spotify music streaming account.

The best part is the reasonable price, I'll definitely have plenty left over to build that mid-sized pyramid. Seriously, am I the only one who thinks the Funeral-Industrial complex is out of control? Let's get people at their most vulnerable and then gouge away with unbelievably stupid shit. I mean, is your love of "Lil Wayne" so all-defining that it must out-live you as a grotesque epitaph? Think hard before you answer.

If only this technology existed a century ago. We could wander through cemeteries hearing Andrews Sisters and Bob Crosby and "Yes, We Have No Bananas" blasting out of graves.

A Swedish company is selling the pricey resting spot with two-way speakers.

It's like Thomas Edison's creepy "death phone" mated with everything that's bad about 2013 western society. I look forward to passing a monument, hearing "We Can't Stop," sneering so much my face nearly breaks and saying something witty like "Apparently, you can, in fact, stop. Because you're dead."

It allows the living to hear what's playing for the departed. A digital display on the headstone will allow visitors to see what's playing.

The old joke about an entire cemetery flashing an LED "12:00" is finally realized. No more stupid introspection on your own mortality and need to make the most of the very short time we're given. Nope, here's awful Pop Music to tranquilize your senses, just like everywhere else.

The inventor. Big surprise, he's a creepy looking ghoul.

The owner of the first manufactured model of the CataCombo Sound System is Fredrik Hjelmquist. He allows strangers to add tracks to his playlist “Pause 4-ever”.

I'd ask him who he expects to buy this abomination, but let's be real: he only needs a few suckers.

Full Story

Komment Korner  

Does it also bounce up and down like a low-rider?

GEEZ, what do you hear when your dead? ONLY YOUR JUDGEMENT!

It's only a coffin if it has 6 sides, not 4. Do your research.

Now those formerly silent cemeteries are going to be spewing forth more loud and obnoxious music than an August low-rider parade.

Aaron Zehner's first novel The Foolchild Invention is available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.