NOTHING EVER LASTS FOREVER...
Well, nude celebrity photo searchers, The Crossbow Project has far outlived its useful purpose, whatever that was, and will be cyber-expunged come next Tuesday. I've long ago run out of anything resembling creativity, and the thought of posting any more of this warmed-over imbecility makes me cringe with disgust. I'll continue to check out the sites of the few people who read this on any sort of semi-regular basis, and many others who don't, since they possess far more aptitude for this medium than I do, but my blogging days have ended. I appreciate any and all support I've received, and I'll leave you with this appropriate soundtrack to my farewell.
Wednesday, May 21, 2003
ANNIKA SORENSTAM NUDE!
No, idiots, I don't have photos of Annika Sorenstam nude. What are you, retarded? No, even a retarded, I mean specially able, person would know that Annika Sorenstam has never posed for nude photographs. So you must be so completely addicted to porn that every synapse in your addled little mind thinks that anyone whose name appears in a newspaper or who is on TV must, in some sort of fame initiation rite, have a portfolio of nude photos taken. Well, let me tell ya, kids, it just isn't true. It especially isn't true with female professional golfers, and it really, really especially isn't true with Annika Sorenstam.
Now, Annika did appear in Sports Illustrated in the February 24, 2003 issue in her underwear, but that's as close as you're gonna get. I know how difficult it must be for your porn-clouded mind to be able to find a copy of this magazine, so I'm going to help you out. It says "Sports Illustrated" in big letters on the cover, and there is a picture of a bunch of guys in Anaheim Angels uniforms playing baseball. Also, Annika is not in her underwear right on the cover. You have to turn the pages. I forget which page it's on, but try somewhere near the middle. If you are coming down off the porn high, and you have a few extra brain cells to devote to the task, you can try the table of contents and look for a story about "Annika Sorenstam". It will tell you which page number the story is on. Then you can use the little numbers on the bottom of each page to find the pictures of Annika in her underwear.
I happen to actually have in my possession a copy of this Sports Illustrated issue. It can be yours for only $5,000, but you have to somehow manage to send me an e-mail and then send me a money order for the full amount, which I doubt very strongly you'll be able to do, since you are probably already in debt up to your ears from subscribing to a few hundred hard-core porn sites with your credit card. But it's available if you want it. You freaks.
No, idiots, I don't have photos of Annika Sorenstam nude. What are you, retarded? No, even a retarded, I mean specially able, person would know that Annika Sorenstam has never posed for nude photographs. So you must be so completely addicted to porn that every synapse in your addled little mind thinks that anyone whose name appears in a newspaper or who is on TV must, in some sort of fame initiation rite, have a portfolio of nude photos taken. Well, let me tell ya, kids, it just isn't true. It especially isn't true with female professional golfers, and it really, really especially isn't true with Annika Sorenstam.
Now, Annika did appear in Sports Illustrated in the February 24, 2003 issue in her underwear, but that's as close as you're gonna get. I know how difficult it must be for your porn-clouded mind to be able to find a copy of this magazine, so I'm going to help you out. It says "Sports Illustrated" in big letters on the cover, and there is a picture of a bunch of guys in Anaheim Angels uniforms playing baseball. Also, Annika is not in her underwear right on the cover. You have to turn the pages. I forget which page it's on, but try somewhere near the middle. If you are coming down off the porn high, and you have a few extra brain cells to devote to the task, you can try the table of contents and look for a story about "Annika Sorenstam". It will tell you which page number the story is on. Then you can use the little numbers on the bottom of each page to find the pictures of Annika in her underwear.
I happen to actually have in my possession a copy of this Sports Illustrated issue. It can be yours for only $5,000, but you have to somehow manage to send me an e-mail and then send me a money order for the full amount, which I doubt very strongly you'll be able to do, since you are probably already in debt up to your ears from subscribing to a few hundred hard-core porn sites with your credit card. But it's available if you want it. You freaks.
Tuesday, May 20, 2003
BILLIONS AND BILLIONS SERVED
We're back from Rochester. Let me just say, Physics students are not necessarily of our species. I can vouch for my niece, who is really an Astronomy student, but as for the rest of them, it's anybody's guess.
The photo above is of the Rush Rhees Library on the campus of the University of Rochester, also known by UR students as "the Nipple of Knowledge", where the commencement was held on Sunday. My niece received her Bachelor of Arts Degree in Astronomy with a minor in Film Studies, which nearly guarantees her a spot in the burgeoning food and beverage service industry, at least for a while. If you have a need for a young lady who can produce an engaging television documentary on the Properties of Local Hydrodynamic and Magnetohydrodynamic Turbulence in Differentially Rotating Systems, please use the above e-mail link, and I'll pass the information on to her.
If you happened to be on or near Interstate 476 at about 10-11:30 PM Sunday night, that was me doing Mach 3.6. Sorry for the sonic booms.
We're back from Rochester. Let me just say, Physics students are not necessarily of our species. I can vouch for my niece, who is really an Astronomy student, but as for the rest of them, it's anybody's guess.
The photo above is of the Rush Rhees Library on the campus of the University of Rochester, also known by UR students as "the Nipple of Knowledge", where the commencement was held on Sunday. My niece received her Bachelor of Arts Degree in Astronomy with a minor in Film Studies, which nearly guarantees her a spot in the burgeoning food and beverage service industry, at least for a while. If you have a need for a young lady who can produce an engaging television documentary on the Properties of Local Hydrodynamic and Magnetohydrodynamic Turbulence in Differentially Rotating Systems, please use the above e-mail link, and I'll pass the information on to her.
If you happened to be on or near Interstate 476 at about 10-11:30 PM Sunday night, that was me doing Mach 3.6. Sorry for the sonic booms.
Friday, May 16, 2003
PULL MY FINGER LAKES
The missus and I are traveling to Rochester, NY this weekend to attend my niece's college graduation. One of my brothers and two of my sisters will be there, and I can't decide whether to make cheeky references to Jack Benny's chauffeur or Jane Eyre's employer-turned-lover to show how witty and sophisticated I am.
Ah fuck it. I'll just tell a few fart jokes. That usually works.
The missus and I are traveling to Rochester, NY this weekend to attend my niece's college graduation. One of my brothers and two of my sisters will be there, and I can't decide whether to make cheeky references to Jack Benny's chauffeur or Jane Eyre's employer-turned-lover to show how witty and sophisticated I am.
Ah fuck it. I'll just tell a few fart jokes. That usually works.
Thursday, May 15, 2003
TUBE STEAK BOOGIE
Below is the text of an ad (as far as I can remember it) that runs at least three times per game on every Phillies radio broadcast:
MAN: Come on, throw it in there!
(crowd cheering, Announcer voice-over for Hatfield Phillies Franks)
MAN: Put some mustard on it, will ya?
(more cheering, more Announcer voice-over)
MAN: What a dog!
WOMAN: Knock it off, Fred! The neighbors will call the police...again.
PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP! Three times per game times 162 games, that's 486 times total. You figure I listen to parts of 50 games on the radio every year, so that's 150 times this year I might end up hearing this putrescent ode to processed pork with distinct overtones of domestic violence. I'll pay good money if you can make it stop. I'm not joking. E-mail me today.
Below is the text of an ad (as far as I can remember it) that runs at least three times per game on every Phillies radio broadcast:
MAN: Come on, throw it in there!
(crowd cheering, Announcer voice-over for Hatfield Phillies Franks)
MAN: Put some mustard on it, will ya?
(more cheering, more Announcer voice-over)
MAN: What a dog!
WOMAN: Knock it off, Fred! The neighbors will call the police...again.
PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP! Three times per game times 162 games, that's 486 times total. You figure I listen to parts of 50 games on the radio every year, so that's 150 times this year I might end up hearing this putrescent ode to processed pork with distinct overtones of domestic violence. I'll pay good money if you can make it stop. I'm not joking. E-mail me today.
Wednesday, May 14, 2003
ALL THE NEWS THAT'S FIT TO MAKE UP
I knew the New York Times editorial integrity was slipping a bit, but today's issue is ridiculous.
Howell Raines, have you no shame?
I knew the New York Times editorial integrity was slipping a bit, but today's issue is ridiculous.
Howell Raines, have you no shame?
Tuesday, May 13, 2003
SCAM SPAM
From my inbox:
My Dear,
My name is Musa Ahrey the son of Dakoba Ahrey, I am still a student of University of Lagos, Please I want you to help me in doing one thing for me. My late father deposited the sum of U$20Million with a local bank here in Nigeria (GLOBAL BANK NIG PLC), my late father wanted to send the money to his friend in USA unlucky for him he died and right now I don't know my father's friend address. All I want you to do for me is to send your account where the money will be transferred as the owner of the money. My dear I have decided to share the money as follows 50% for me 40% to my business partner while 10% will be for you as my eyes over there.
Isn't that just a touching story? Poor kid. As it happens, my bank account is, uh, at the dry cleaners. So, come on TCP readership, let's help Musa out! Send me your bank account number, with the routing transit number, and I'll contact Musa and have him deposit the 20 Million smackers in there today. Pretty soon, you'll be pulling out of the Jaguar dealership with some new wheels after you get your share of the loot.
And that "My Dear" thing has absolutely nothing to do with that week I spent in Lagos when I was in college. Musa is just a friend, I swear.
From my inbox:
My Dear,
My name is Musa Ahrey the son of Dakoba Ahrey, I am still a student of University of Lagos, Please I want you to help me in doing one thing for me. My late father deposited the sum of U$20Million with a local bank here in Nigeria (GLOBAL BANK NIG PLC), my late father wanted to send the money to his friend in USA unlucky for him he died and right now I don't know my father's friend address. All I want you to do for me is to send your account where the money will be transferred as the owner of the money. My dear I have decided to share the money as follows 50% for me 40% to my business partner while 10% will be for you as my eyes over there.
Isn't that just a touching story? Poor kid. As it happens, my bank account is, uh, at the dry cleaners. So, come on TCP readership, let's help Musa out! Send me your bank account number, with the routing transit number, and I'll contact Musa and have him deposit the 20 Million smackers in there today. Pretty soon, you'll be pulling out of the Jaguar dealership with some new wheels after you get your share of the loot.
And that "My Dear" thing has absolutely nothing to do with that week I spent in Lagos when I was in college. Musa is just a friend, I swear.
DIRTY BLOG
When I heard about this, I thought I'd follow suit.
THIS IS A DRILL! THIS IS ONLY A DRILL!
If this had been an actual blog entry, it might have been somewhat funny, and you might have been directed to link to it. Please ignore it as you normally would, and continue searching for information on the CROSSBOW HOME GYM or the BOWFLEX HOME GYM or KAREN GRASSLE NUDE or whatever.
Thank you for your cooperation, from the Department of Blogland Security.
When I heard about this, I thought I'd follow suit.
If this had been an actual blog entry, it might have been somewhat funny, and you might have been directed to link to it. Please ignore it as you normally would, and continue searching for information on the CROSSBOW HOME GYM or the BOWFLEX HOME GYM or KAREN GRASSLE NUDE or whatever.
Thank you for your cooperation, from the Department of Blogland Security.
Saturday, May 10, 2003
Thursday, May 08, 2003
TOP TEN NEW HONG KONG TOURISM SLOGAN IDEAS
Hong Kong recently had to scrap plans to introduce their new tourism slogan, "Hong Kong Takes Your Breath Away" in light of the SARS epidemic. Here's what they've come up with so far as a replacement:
10. That Surgical Mask Becomes You!
9. Come To The Hacking, Phlegming, Aching, Fevery Jewel Of The Orient
8. Visit For The Scenery, Stay For The Hospitals
7. A Vacation To Remember...If You Live
6. All The Codeine You Want!
5. What Better Place To Get Quarantined?
4. Chow Yun Fat and Jackie Chan Dare You To Visit, You Bunch Of Wussies
3. Only a 5% Death Rate, Better Than The Bronx
2. Make Medical History!
And the Number 1 new Hong Kong tourism slogan idea is:
1. Hong Kong: Flu-ey!!!!
Hong Kong recently had to scrap plans to introduce their new tourism slogan, "Hong Kong Takes Your Breath Away" in light of the SARS epidemic. Here's what they've come up with so far as a replacement:
10. That Surgical Mask Becomes You!
9. Come To The Hacking, Phlegming, Aching, Fevery Jewel Of The Orient
8. Visit For The Scenery, Stay For The Hospitals
7. A Vacation To Remember...If You Live
6. All The Codeine You Want!
5. What Better Place To Get Quarantined?
4. Chow Yun Fat and Jackie Chan Dare You To Visit, You Bunch Of Wussies
3. Only a 5% Death Rate, Better Than The Bronx
2. Make Medical History!
And the Number 1 new Hong Kong tourism slogan idea is:
1. Hong Kong: Flu-ey!!!!
Wednesday, May 07, 2003
Tuesday, May 06, 2003
JOAN OF DORK
Speaking of music, what is the deal with this new Joan Armatrading song, "Lovers Speak"? The lyrics read "I want to learn the language of love/ I want to learn how to flirt". Jeez, Joan, how old are you anyway? You have to be over 50. You're a Member of the Freakin' British Empire for crying out loud. You really ought to get out more. My wife used to teach 7th and 8th grade girls in South Philly who were juggling a half dozen boyfriends each, maybe you can ask them.
Speaking of music, what is the deal with this new Joan Armatrading song, "Lovers Speak"? The lyrics read "I want to learn the language of love/ I want to learn how to flirt". Jeez, Joan, how old are you anyway? You have to be over 50. You're a Member of the Freakin' British Empire for crying out loud. You really ought to get out more. My wife used to teach 7th and 8th grade girls in South Philly who were juggling a half dozen boyfriends each, maybe you can ask them.
MUSIC TO SOOTHE THE SAVAGE CONSUMER
Recently, I've noticed that nearly every time I go to the grocery store, or the mall, or to a sporting event, invariably, I will hear a song which is on a CD that I actually own. For the first few times, this was quite pleasing. "Hey," I would say to my wife, "they're playing the BoDeans, from 'Home'! I own that. How cool is that?" Then, something finally occurred to me. The world is not suddenly catching up to my hip musical esthetic. What's happening is, I am getting old. The music I liked when I was young is now so completely vanilla and unthreatening that it's being played to general audiences to put them in a positive mood so that they will buy things.
So later, I bought an iPod and stored my entire CD collection on it so I could listen to it while at the gym, and ever since, I can't stop buying more stuff. Stuff I don't even need, too, like a wi-fi card for the PocketPC I never use, and the Odd Todd Handbook. I've even memorized my Discover card number. You know, I really think I've stumbled on to a marketing bonanza here. If I can get people to listen to my iPod for an hour, they'll buy anything! Now I just need to market my CD collection to different retail outlets and ask for a percentage of the increased sales, and I'll be a wealthy man. Then I can finally get that Sharper Image Coca-Cola Wurlitzer Nostalgic Soda Machine I've had my eye on.
Recently, I've noticed that nearly every time I go to the grocery store, or the mall, or to a sporting event, invariably, I will hear a song which is on a CD that I actually own. For the first few times, this was quite pleasing. "Hey," I would say to my wife, "they're playing the BoDeans, from 'Home'! I own that. How cool is that?" Then, something finally occurred to me. The world is not suddenly catching up to my hip musical esthetic. What's happening is, I am getting old. The music I liked when I was young is now so completely vanilla and unthreatening that it's being played to general audiences to put them in a positive mood so that they will buy things.
So later, I bought an iPod and stored my entire CD collection on it so I could listen to it while at the gym, and ever since, I can't stop buying more stuff. Stuff I don't even need, too, like a wi-fi card for the PocketPC I never use, and the Odd Todd Handbook. I've even memorized my Discover card number. You know, I really think I've stumbled on to a marketing bonanza here. If I can get people to listen to my iPod for an hour, they'll buy anything! Now I just need to market my CD collection to different retail outlets and ask for a percentage of the increased sales, and I'll be a wealthy man. Then I can finally get that Sharper Image Coca-Cola Wurlitzer Nostalgic Soda Machine I've had my eye on.
Monday, May 05, 2003
THAT'S GOOD EATIN'
No hilarious blog entry today. Not that there ever is. Anyway, I spent most of the day explaining to a sales rep that our business is probably irretrievably lost to his competition, and that I didn't make the decision, and that the guy who made the decision hates his company. And he bought me lunch. So, it was a pretty good day.
For more on my feelings on vendor lunches, click here.
No hilarious blog entry today. Not that there ever is. Anyway, I spent most of the day explaining to a sales rep that our business is probably irretrievably lost to his competition, and that I didn't make the decision, and that the guy who made the decision hates his company. And he bought me lunch. So, it was a pretty good day.
For more on my feelings on vendor lunches, click here.
Friday, May 02, 2003
CAN I GET THAT DIRECT DEPOSITED?
The Recording Industry Association of America has settled its lawsuits with four college students who offered thousands of copyrighted recordings for illegal downloading. The students agreed to pay sums ranging from $12,000 to $17,500.
In related news, the RIAA also announced that it would pay a lump sum of $100,000,000 to the record-buying public for releasing over a decade worth of Yanni, Kenny G, and John Tesh albums.
The Recording Industry Association of America has settled its lawsuits with four college students who offered thousands of copyrighted recordings for illegal downloading. The students agreed to pay sums ranging from $12,000 to $17,500.
In related news, the RIAA also announced that it would pay a lump sum of $100,000,000 to the record-buying public for releasing over a decade worth of Yanni, Kenny G, and John Tesh albums.
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
KILLER FUNGI
An Army Cavalry platoon searching Iraq today may have found some chemical weapons. "Well, we're not sure what we've found. We'll have to do more testing," said Lt. Valerie Phipps. Lt. Phipps did elaborate that the items found are extremely obnoxious smelling, and could be used as part of a mobile bio-weapons program.
Click here to view a photo of the suspected lethal agents.
An Army Cavalry platoon searching Iraq today may have found some chemical weapons. "Well, we're not sure what we've found. We'll have to do more testing," said Lt. Valerie Phipps. Lt. Phipps did elaborate that the items found are extremely obnoxious smelling, and could be used as part of a mobile bio-weapons program.
Click here to view a photo of the suspected lethal agents.
Monday, April 28, 2003
THIS IS THE TITLE
I'm adding an entry now, because this is supposed to be a web log, as if I'm keeping a record of something. In this case, it's of my complete dearth of ideas. I've had a migraine the last two days, so coming up with blog ideas is about 1,247,432 on my "list". Not that I have a "list". I pretty much live from moment to moment. Especially when I have a migraine, when I wish every moment would be my last. I'm better now. But I still have nothing to say. Bye.
I'm adding an entry now, because this is supposed to be a web log, as if I'm keeping a record of something. In this case, it's of my complete dearth of ideas. I've had a migraine the last two days, so coming up with blog ideas is about 1,247,432 on my "list". Not that I have a "list". I pretty much live from moment to moment. Especially when I have a migraine, when I wish every moment would be my last. I'm better now. But I still have nothing to say. Bye.
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
C'EST LA GUERRE...OOPS, I MEAN...NEVER MIND
The New York Times revealed (login req'd) yesterday that the Bush re-election team will be going after leading Democratic Presidential contender Sen. John Kerry by alleging, among other things, that he "looks French". What the story failed to mention is that the Bush team has a list of other strategies for the remainder of the Democratic field.
John Edwards: "John" sounds like "Jean". Too French.
Dick Gephardt: "Dick" reminds everyone of the French love for sex.
Joe Lieberman: German name. Plus, as a bonus, he's Jewish, so he helped kill our Lord and Saviour (use last one only in the South and maybe Utah).
Howard Dean: Comes from Vermont. "Vermont" is French for Green Mountain. They must be crawling with 'em up there.
Bob Graham: Graham crackers must be French. They are used in fancy pies and stuff.
Carole Mosely Braun: Looks too much like Josephine Baker.
Dennis Kucinich: Um, been seen eating French fries. Who cares?
Al Sharpton: Right. As if we need a strategy. Our strategy is his hairdo.
The New York Times revealed (login req'd) yesterday that the Bush re-election team will be going after leading Democratic Presidential contender Sen. John Kerry by alleging, among other things, that he "looks French". What the story failed to mention is that the Bush team has a list of other strategies for the remainder of the Democratic field.
John Edwards: "John" sounds like "Jean". Too French.
Dick Gephardt: "Dick" reminds everyone of the French love for sex.
Joe Lieberman: German name. Plus, as a bonus, he's Jewish, so he helped kill our Lord and Saviour (use last one only in the South and maybe Utah).
Howard Dean: Comes from Vermont. "Vermont" is French for Green Mountain. They must be crawling with 'em up there.
Bob Graham: Graham crackers must be French. They are used in fancy pies and stuff.
Carole Mosely Braun: Looks too much like Josephine Baker.
Dennis Kucinich: Um, been seen eating French fries. Who cares?
Al Sharpton: Right. As if we need a strategy. Our strategy is his hairdo.
Monday, April 21, 2003
HOPE YOU HAD A HAPPY...WHATEVER
Yesterday was some sort of a holiday, I guess. This being a secular society, I've never been quite sure what it is we were supposed to be celebrating yesterday. Here at TCP headquarters, my wife and I celebrated the first Sunday after the full moon following the vernal equinox with the usual fertility rites of coloring eggs, worshipping rabbits and eating copious amounts of chocolate, in honor of Pan, I suppose, or some such deity. Then we ate a traditional meal consisting of a main course of ham...for some reason. And then we, um, well, performed more fertility rites. Then I watched Six Feet Under while she read a book. I don't think that had anything to do with anything, but I thought I'd mention it in case someone knew anything.
Target was closed yesterday. What the fuck?
Yesterday was some sort of a holiday, I guess. This being a secular society, I've never been quite sure what it is we were supposed to be celebrating yesterday. Here at TCP headquarters, my wife and I celebrated the first Sunday after the full moon following the vernal equinox with the usual fertility rites of coloring eggs, worshipping rabbits and eating copious amounts of chocolate, in honor of Pan, I suppose, or some such deity. Then we ate a traditional meal consisting of a main course of ham...for some reason. And then we, um, well, performed more fertility rites. Then I watched Six Feet Under while she read a book. I don't think that had anything to do with anything, but I thought I'd mention it in case someone knew anything.
Target was closed yesterday. What the fuck?
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