... to Ash? Ah, never mind. It's Ash Wednesday today for those of you who weren't aware, the first day of Lent. But what am I talking about? Of course you already know what day it is (and isn't).
As Cecelia was kind enough to point out, Feminine Mind Control Day is only a week away, followed on the fifteenth (as facebook has informed me) by National "That's What She Said" Day, a made-up internet holiday enjoyed by double entendre enthusiasts everywhere. I have to admit that short of completing Plan 50-WD ahead of schedule (highly unlikely at the current rate at which funds are coming in around here), I have no idea how to celebrate FMC Day this year. It is, to the best of my memory, the first FMC Day since the start of our relationship (whenever that was) that Lindsey and I are likely to be in the same town for holiday. We have no established tradition here. Of course on its surface it's a fairly stupid holiday anyways, but that's what makes it so clever. Here is one day of the year where no matter how much she rolls her eyes (and she will), I get to give her some mushy card, gift, and flowers, and there's nothing she can do about it. That is the power of FMC Day. The only problem is that I'm stumped. What do I do?
Comments, as always, are welcome.
Showing posts with label Plan 50-WD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Plan 50-WD. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
This Is Not My Day (Part One?)
Anyone remember the film Good Morning Vietnam? Sure you do. It was that Robin Williams film about how the Vietnam War was bad, partly because it was poorly executed and partly because of the horrible loss of life, but mostly because the people in charge of running the darned thing were a bunch of squares who didn't like Rock n' Roll. No wonder we lost. I remember the film as being somewhat amusing, but now that I think about it, it has about the same plot as Williams' films Patch Adams, Mrs. Doubtfire, and Jumanji (ok, not Jumanji). Anyways, I only bring this up because there's a scene in the film where Robin Williams' character just can't take all the lameness that his superiors force upon him any more, so he breaks military protocol by describing an actual event on the air, rather than a sanitized-to-protect-morale version of said event, but he does so by cleverly stating that everything that happened DID NOT happen, right after describing how it happened in detail. Have I lost you yet? You aren't really reading this anyways? Good enough. Anyways, Paragraph break!
That whole first paragraph was really just a preamble to this one, where I tell you about my day, only because my day is boring, I'll tell you about what didn't happen today. Capisce? It all started this morning (or did it?), when I didn't wake up in the cargo hold of a large freighter that wasn't bound for some tiny, nameless atoll that is not in the South Pacific, and is not the base of operations for some Crazy Organization Bent on the World's Eventual Besmirchment (COBWEB). A seven-foot tall one-eyed man with lots of buckles all over his black leather attire (which would've looked almost comical had it really existed) did not splash some dirty salt water in my face, which subsequently didn't burn in my various cuts and bruises. "How are you finding your quarters?" he did not say, sneering. "Wouldn't it be easier to just tell us all about this Plan 50-WD of yours?" he did not add. I did not defiantly spit in his eye. He then didn't come a step closer to teach me a lesson, which is what I would've needed had I really been there and had he really existed, and I didn't pull myself up by the chain that wasn't attached to the handcuffs around my wrists and suspended from the ceiling, nor did I deliver a swift, powerful kick to the middle of his fat, ugly face. If I had though, it would've been enough to knock him unconscious, allowing me to use one of the silly buckles he had on him to pick the lock in my handcuffs. It wasn't just the opportunity I needed. In the nick of time, I didn't escape. I didn't make my way unseen to the deck of the boat only to see that we had nearly arrived at the island that wasn't our destination. How long wasn't I unconscious below deck? How many days hadn't it been? I didn't jump overboard and swim to shore before the rest of the guards noticed me. Whatever hadn't drawn me there, whoever hadn't shanghaied me, wasn't waiting on that island.
That whole first paragraph was really just a preamble to this one, where I tell you about my day, only because my day is boring, I'll tell you about what didn't happen today. Capisce? It all started this morning (or did it?), when I didn't wake up in the cargo hold of a large freighter that wasn't bound for some tiny, nameless atoll that is not in the South Pacific, and is not the base of operations for some Crazy Organization Bent on the World's Eventual Besmirchment (COBWEB). A seven-foot tall one-eyed man with lots of buckles all over his black leather attire (which would've looked almost comical had it really existed) did not splash some dirty salt water in my face, which subsequently didn't burn in my various cuts and bruises. "How are you finding your quarters?" he did not say, sneering. "Wouldn't it be easier to just tell us all about this Plan 50-WD of yours?" he did not add. I did not defiantly spit in his eye. He then didn't come a step closer to teach me a lesson, which is what I would've needed had I really been there and had he really existed, and I didn't pull myself up by the chain that wasn't attached to the handcuffs around my wrists and suspended from the ceiling, nor did I deliver a swift, powerful kick to the middle of his fat, ugly face. If I had though, it would've been enough to knock him unconscious, allowing me to use one of the silly buckles he had on him to pick the lock in my handcuffs. It wasn't just the opportunity I needed. In the nick of time, I didn't escape. I didn't make my way unseen to the deck of the boat only to see that we had nearly arrived at the island that wasn't our destination. How long wasn't I unconscious below deck? How many days hadn't it been? I didn't jump overboard and swim to shore before the rest of the guards noticed me. Whatever hadn't drawn me there, whoever hadn't shanghaied me, wasn't waiting on that island.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Unfinished business...
Ahem. Ladies and Gentlemen, I do not know who Paul Southworth is, nor do I find his webcomic particularly funny, however Gec has suggested to me that perhaps, for reasons unknown, Paul Southwick reads my blog. Why would Paul Southington want to read my blog? Maybe to turn the Greatest World-Domination Scheme Of Our Times (if I do say so myself) into a dumb one-liner. For shame, Paul Southerncomfort, for shame. Anyways, I'm not one to be sore, so I'm offering Mr. Southstein the opportunity to contribute to the Plan 50-WD Fund (it's for the children), and I'll even put his name (whatever it may be) into the drawing for puppet governorship of the world's leading producer of vanilla. Didn't know that, did you Paul Southkowski? Yeah, didn't think so.
So sorry about another Link-heavy post here, non-Paul Southpaw readers, I wish I could write a good blog, but you'll have to settle for consistently poor blogsmanship. The devil you know, eh? Look out for five posts in the month October, guaranSheed.
So sorry about another Link-heavy post here, non-Paul Southpaw readers, I wish I could write a good blog, but you'll have to settle for consistently poor blogsmanship. The devil you know, eh? Look out for five posts in the month October, guaranSheed.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Feminine Mind Control Day
Well, I won't lie to you. The First-Ever Random Internet Competition thingy wasn't a great success, as there were only two submittals, which you'll find below. I must admit that some of you (perhaps even most of you) have weakened my faith in humanity in a not-insignificant way, but perhaps I should thank you for reminding me of why I decided to take over the world in the first place. Keep in mind that I never really thought that I'd get as many as five submissions (which Jonathan was unfortunately able to deduce), so for me the optimum number would've been four: the maximum amount before I would have to award some kind of prize. So, perhaps it's for the best. In any case, the winner is David, who not only submitted well before the
deadline and in the required file format, but also in color. David loses some minor style points on making his prototype a boot rather than a shoe, and I'm not too fond of the square-cut diamonds myself, but these may turn out to be the best choices in the end. He was also quick to mention to me that for added effect, his boot would be made out of dark chocolate rather than milk chocolate, for maximum effect. I can't argue with this. David also submitted a very avant-garde piece of graphic design to accompany his official submittal. Being untrained in the graphic arts myself I was scarcely able to make out what it was, and I know just enough about art to know that if you don't understand it, it must be brilliant. Fortunately, David refrained from art elitism and was good enough to explain to me in his email that what I was looking at was a necklace that held both a 
golden shoe (with diamonds on it, of course), and a piece of a four-layer chocolate cake. While I don't personally believe that this device would be anywhere near as effective as plan 50WD, I think it
would be foolish to discard the idea entirely, and so you see it here. Brilliant. Honorable Mention goes to the only other submission, which was a far more conventional piece of artwork, although not entirely without merit. The scene presented here shows a mad scientist (presumably in my employ) with the requisite german accent unveiling a set of chocolate, diamond-covered hooker boots the size of large buildings. I can't help but wonder if I wasn't unclear in my instructions about shoes rather than boots, but a submission's a submission in this business, so I'll have to take what I can get. Eric (the artist) loses some points for breaking the spirit (if not the letter) of the contest rules, and submitting to me what was, for all intents and purposes, a hard copy. Were it not for the shortage of submissions, I would have disqualified him altogether, but as is he walks away with a generous second place. That wraps up our Feminine Mind Control Day special festivities, best of luck to all you men out there trying to buy your way out of the doghouse with flowers and chocolate and what-not. It probably won't work, and she probably still won't tell you why she's upset with you, but it's worth a try, man. To the single out there who can't help but be bitter on this cold, February day, I can offer this simple piece of consolation: It's a pretty dumb holiday anyways, and this way you're probably getting out of it on the cheap. You have to blow a wad on a nice dinner and a few dozen flowers today? No? Didn't think so. I didn't either, if you're wondering, my wonderful girlfriend has yet to discover the awesome power of guilt, or is just too cool to use it. Either way, I'm not complaining. Peace and love to all of you, and be careful out there in the snow.
deadline and in the required file format, but also in color. David loses some minor style points on making his prototype a boot rather than a shoe, and I'm not too fond of the square-cut diamonds myself, but these may turn out to be the best choices in the end. He was also quick to mention to me that for added effect, his boot would be made out of dark chocolate rather than milk chocolate, for maximum effect. I can't argue with this. David also submitted a very avant-garde piece of graphic design to accompany his official submittal. Being untrained in the graphic arts myself I was scarcely able to make out what it was, and I know just enough about art to know that if you don't understand it, it must be brilliant. Fortunately, David refrained from art elitism and was good enough to explain to me in his email that what I was looking at was a necklace that held both a 
golden shoe (with diamonds on it, of course), and a piece of a four-layer chocolate cake. While I don't personally believe that this device would be anywhere near as effective as plan 50WD, I think it
would be foolish to discard the idea entirely, and so you see it here. Brilliant. Honorable Mention goes to the only other submission, which was a far more conventional piece of artwork, although not entirely without merit. The scene presented here shows a mad scientist (presumably in my employ) with the requisite german accent unveiling a set of chocolate, diamond-covered hooker boots the size of large buildings. I can't help but wonder if I wasn't unclear in my instructions about shoes rather than boots, but a submission's a submission in this business, so I'll have to take what I can get. Eric (the artist) loses some points for breaking the spirit (if not the letter) of the contest rules, and submitting to me what was, for all intents and purposes, a hard copy. Were it not for the shortage of submissions, I would have disqualified him altogether, but as is he walks away with a generous second place. That wraps up our Feminine Mind Control Day special festivities, best of luck to all you men out there trying to buy your way out of the doghouse with flowers and chocolate and what-not. It probably won't work, and she probably still won't tell you why she's upset with you, but it's worth a try, man. To the single out there who can't help but be bitter on this cold, February day, I can offer this simple piece of consolation: It's a pretty dumb holiday anyways, and this way you're probably getting out of it on the cheap. You have to blow a wad on a nice dinner and a few dozen flowers today? No? Didn't think so. I didn't either, if you're wondering, my wonderful girlfriend has yet to discover the awesome power of guilt, or is just too cool to use it. Either way, I'm not complaining. Peace and love to all of you, and be careful out there in the snow.
Monday, January 29, 2007
The Republic's First-Ever Random Internet Competition!
Ok friends, this is it: As I'm sure both of you have noticed, I am not currently in control of the world, or even half of it. I'm sure that this causes you at least as much dismay as it causes me, perhaps even so much that you don't remember my earlier mention of a plan to rectify this situation. The trouble is that notwithstanding the perfection of the plan, things just haven't been working so well in the fundraising department, and I had to have a few fundraising minions thrown into my shark tank just to keep everyone else in the department motivated (yes, people said that springing for the shark tank was a mistake, but with the labor disputes one encounters in this business, those things practically pay for themselves overnight). Anyhoo, it occured to me the other day while I was sitting in my lair petting my cat Bonaparte and chuckling to myself that I might be able to get a few more investors on board with some really schnazzy concept art of Plan 50WD's Primary Mind Control Unit (PMCU), or in layman's terms: "A Pair Diamond-Covered Chocolate Shoes." If a diamond-encrusted shoe made out of chocolate can control minds, I reasoned (and it almost certainly can), certainly a picture of a diamond-encrusted chocolate shoe will have at least some persuasive effect on the rich and unscrupulous, which is where you come in: If you know how to use Photoshop, MS Paint, A Pencil, Paper, and a Scanner, crayons-whatever, I want you to put those skills to work on drawing up some concept art for Plan 50WD. You're allowed to submit up to 2 concepts per person, and if I get at least 5 participants, I'll throw in a prize for the winner (something along the lines of a bag of coffee from Beaner's when the contest ends, and dictatorship of Canada when I rule the world). I'll need any and all submissions to be in .jpeg or perhaps some similar file format, and emailed to dcous at hotmail dot com no later than February 13, 2007, with "50WD" in the subject line. Hand-drawn submissions will be accepted, but must be scanned and emailed. If you try to give me a hard copy, I'll probably lose it. All submissions, and an announcement of the winner will be posted the following day, Feminine Mind Control Day, otherwise known as Singleness Awareness Day, and in some antiquated incarnations of the vernacular, Valentine's Day. Submissions deemed inappropriate will not be posted, and will be immediately disqualified. If I don't know you personally (in which case I have no clue why you're reading this thing), I'll need you to include your mailing address in the email. If you send me a virus, I will find your family and throw them into my shark tank, force you to watch them as they are devoured, and then I'll think of some really painful way to dispose of you, possibly involving unpasteurized dairy products. Now then, stop reading and start cracking on that artwork, Feminine Mind Control Day is right around the corner!
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