Shoot, guys. Looks like Google lost all their valuable customer records!
You know what, I’m going to also give them my social security number and checking account, too, just so there’s no question about who I am exactly. While I’m at it, I think maybe I should also take some full-body nudes, just in case Google needs intimate birthmarks to verify me.
Might as well tweet all of this while I’m at it.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Thursday, November 3, 2011
A Short, Unpleasant Story About a Bathroom
The men's room in my office had been rendered less usable by virtue of the fact that the door handle sticks, making entry difficult. This itself seems only marginally problematic to me, because if you just jiggle it a little, it'll open, to use a famously easy-to-say, hard-to-understand phrase, though I do wonder where all the defeated would-be bathroom-users went when they concluded that they could not use the facilities as desired. But it's more baffling that the management's solution was to simply remove the door handle altogether, creating a nice, wrist-sized space connecting the bathroom and the hallway. Not only could any passerby look in, but other sensation-inducing entities can get out and taint the hallway in a way that reminds us why we invented doors in the first place. Worst of all? Though one can now enter the bathroom simply by pushing on the door -- it swings in, you see -- the only way to open the door from inside, now, is to stick your finger into the knob-hole, dig it into the meat of the door (so to speak) and give it a good tug towards you. It's absolutely obscene, and I feel dirty just having described it.
This is why I don't use the work bathroom anymore.
This is why I don't use the work bathroom anymore.
Read more:
a funny story
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Simple Times, Stupid Music
The thing is, I like old stuff. I’m not someone who goes around only looking at the popular culture of previous generations with my mind focused on now and how all the not-now things are different and therefore bad. But there’s a certain era of music that I don’t really understand, and its the same one that gave us that “You say potato” song and that “Roly Poly” song from Pillow Talk. At this point in American culture, adults seem to have found entertainment in the kind of songs that today are sung by babies and perhaps children on bus trips who want test how close they can push their driver into taking the entire vehicle over a guardrail. I mean, what other purpose could “One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall” possibly serve?
Not long ago — but long enough, and you’ll shortly realize why — I was standing in a Borders and was subjected to one of these songs: Cab Calloway’s “Everybody Eats When They Come Over to My House.” I’m not saying it’s managerial decisions like this one that caused Borders to cease, but I’m willing to bet it didn’t help.
(And no, I do not know why the background image for the song is a butt. The other version I found was actually more offensive.)
Listen, if you like, or just check out the lyrics, but I’m boggled as to how this was okay for adults to enjoy. I’m actually further confused about whether ol’ Cab meant for, like, half of his food rhymes to sound sexual, though it’s hard to imagine he didn’t think about the implications of that opening pair of lines, “Have a banana, Hannah / Try the salami, Tommy.” And then the thing that seems strangest to me is Calloway’s seeming inability to find actual human people’s names that rhyme with food, which caused him to invite to his dinner party people named Mandrake, Irvy, Mendel, Fagel and Nashville. (Maybe everyone eats at your house because all the party guests suck?)
If this sort of thing gets to you to — and it should, thinking humans! — please examine below the lyrics to “Everybody Eats When They Have Come Over to My House,” which I wanted to highlighted in a matter that reflects my frustrations but I could not figure out how to do that on the new Blogger:
Also, neither here nor there, really, but no one pronounces it “poh-tah-toh.”
Not long ago — but long enough, and you’ll shortly realize why — I was standing in a Borders and was subjected to one of these songs: Cab Calloway’s “Everybody Eats When They Come Over to My House.” I’m not saying it’s managerial decisions like this one that caused Borders to cease, but I’m willing to bet it didn’t help.
Listen, if you like, or just check out the lyrics, but I’m boggled as to how this was okay for adults to enjoy. I’m actually further confused about whether ol’ Cab meant for, like, half of his food rhymes to sound sexual, though it’s hard to imagine he didn’t think about the implications of that opening pair of lines, “Have a banana, Hannah / Try the salami, Tommy.” And then the thing that seems strangest to me is Calloway’s seeming inability to find actual human people’s names that rhyme with food, which caused him to invite to his dinner party people named Mandrake, Irvy, Mendel, Fagel and Nashville. (Maybe everyone eats at your house because all the party guests suck?)
If this sort of thing gets to you to — and it should, thinking humans! — please examine below the lyrics to “Everybody Eats When They Have Come Over to My House,” which I wanted to highlighted in a matter that reflects my frustrations but I could not figure out how to do that on the new Blogger:
Have a banana, Hannah
Try the salami, Tommy
Get with the gravy, Davy
Everybody eats when they come to my house
Try a tomato, Plato
Here’s cacciatori, Dory
Taste of bologna, Tony
Everybody eats when they come to my house
I've fixed your favorite dishes
Hopin' this good food fills ya
Work my hands to the bone in the kitchen alone
You better eat if it kills ya
Pass me a pancake, Mandrake
Havin’ a derby, Irvy
Lookin the fendel, Mendel
Everybody eats when they come to my house
Hannah, Davy, Tommy, Dora, Mandrake
Everybody eats when they come to my house
Pasta fazoula, Tallulah
Oh, do have a bagel, Fagel
Now don't be so bashful, Nashville
Everybody eats when they come to my house
Hey, this is a party, Marty
Well, you get the cherry, Jerry
Now look, don't be so picky, Mickey
Cause everybody eats when they come to my house
All of my friends are welcome
Don't make me coax you, moax you
Eat the tables, the chairs, the napkins — who cares?
You gotta eat if it chokes ya
Oh, do have a knish, Nisha
Pass him the latke, Matke
Chili con carne for Barney
Everybody eats when they come to my house
Face, Buster, share, chops, fumpAlso, moax you? Also, I feel real bad for the guy nicknamed “Taste of Bologna” Tony.
Everybody eats when they come to my house
Everybody eats when they come to my house
Also, neither here nor there, really, but no one pronounces it “poh-tah-toh.”
Monday, October 31, 2011
Hell’s Bells
NOTE: Whoops. Thought I scheduled this for Halloween, but I now realized that I only saved it as a draft. Damn new Blogger interface. Late but nonetheless awesome, may I present a pitch-perfectly dark Disney short, the Silly Symphony “Hell’s Bells”?
Granted, there’s everything skin-crawly about the opening number, “Funeral March of a Marionette,” but was there ever a time when “In the Hall of the Mountain King” wasn’t creepy? Certainly, it being played on xylophones didn’t help.
(Via Monster Brains.)
Granted, there’s everything skin-crawly about the opening number, “Funeral March of a Marionette,” but was there ever a time when “In the Hall of the Mountain King” wasn’t creepy? Certainly, it being played on xylophones didn’t help.
(Via Monster Brains.)
Read more:
disney,
halloween,
things creepy and/or horrifying
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Me & Cinderella
This week’s work comes courtesy of obscure etymology and an underappreciated NBC TV show.
Since the NBC adaptation of Prime Suspect began airing, I’ve been recapping it for KCET, trying my best to compare Maria Bello’s fedora-topped lady detective to the Helen Mirren original. As a result, I’m one of the few people watching Prime Suspect, which is really too bad, considering the gradual disappearance of the New York City-based crime procedural. (You watch — they’ll vanish before you realize they’re endangered, just like the common pigeon.) In the most recent episode, an important clue was hidden in a homeless dude’s addled ramblings about a padiddle moving in and among the trees in Central Park. The detectives don’t know what to make of it until their lieutenant points out that padiddle is a word that apparently refers to a car with only one headlight. It’s also what you yell out when you spot such a highway hazard. Sometimes there’s a punch. Yeah, it’s basically to the Chinatown headlights what Slugbug is to the Volkswagen Beetle.
So why padiddle? That’s a good question. No site I found seemed to have any idea how this nonsense-sounding word got attached to cars with less-than-optimal nighttime visibility, though at least I learned that some people spell it pediddle or perdiddle. A possible hint: There may be a connection to drumming vocabulary, and I say this based on the fact that there’s some debate whether padiddle should be listed on Wikipedia’s “Glossary of musical terminology” page, plus the fact that there exist the terms paradiddle and paradiddlediddle that refer to a specific style of drumming. (ABAA and ABAABB, respectively, referring to the left and right sets. That has to be a clue, right? What with the left and right headlights?)
So wherefore padiddle? I don’t know. But I can at least offer this, in perfect alignment with the recent spate of 90s nostalgia that now characterizes the state of pop culture. (I mean, fuck: In Living Color is coming back?):
But I have to admit that I actually never got tired of this song.
Previous words of the week after the jump.
padiddle (puh-DID-ul) — noun: a vehicle with one of its headlights out. interjection: a word shouted when one spots a vehicle driving with one headlight out.Not dictionary definitions, I should note; they’re my own. And I had to make my own up because padiddle isn’t a word that appears in any dictionaries. However, it’s apparently a recognized term among a certain group of people. An age group? People who grew up in a specific geographic region? I’m not sure, but the fact that I learned it from Prime Suspect might be a tip-off.
Since the NBC adaptation of Prime Suspect began airing, I’ve been recapping it for KCET, trying my best to compare Maria Bello’s fedora-topped lady detective to the Helen Mirren original. As a result, I’m one of the few people watching Prime Suspect, which is really too bad, considering the gradual disappearance of the New York City-based crime procedural. (You watch — they’ll vanish before you realize they’re endangered, just like the common pigeon.) In the most recent episode, an important clue was hidden in a homeless dude’s addled ramblings about a padiddle moving in and among the trees in Central Park. The detectives don’t know what to make of it until their lieutenant points out that padiddle is a word that apparently refers to a car with only one headlight. It’s also what you yell out when you spot such a highway hazard. Sometimes there’s a punch. Yeah, it’s basically to the Chinatown headlights what Slugbug is to the Volkswagen Beetle.
So why padiddle? That’s a good question. No site I found seemed to have any idea how this nonsense-sounding word got attached to cars with less-than-optimal nighttime visibility, though at least I learned that some people spell it pediddle or perdiddle. A possible hint: There may be a connection to drumming vocabulary, and I say this based on the fact that there’s some debate whether padiddle should be listed on Wikipedia’s “Glossary of musical terminology” page, plus the fact that there exist the terms paradiddle and paradiddlediddle that refer to a specific style of drumming. (ABAA and ABAABB, respectively, referring to the left and right sets. That has to be a clue, right? What with the left and right headlights?)
So wherefore padiddle? I don’t know. But I can at least offer this, in perfect alignment with the recent spate of 90s nostalgia that now characterizes the state of pop culture. (I mean, fuck: In Living Color is coming back?):
But I have to admit that I actually never got tired of this song.
Previous words of the week after the jump.
- acné excoriée des jeunes filles, adulterine, ageusia, ambeer, anosmia
- barrack, beeturia, bissextile, bloofer, breastsummer
- catholicon, cecaelia, cephalophore, cherpumple, chilver, cockernonnie, collywobbles, coprolalia, couvade, cranberry morpheme, crwth, culaccino, cummingtonite
- deasil, decussate, deuteragonist, dingbat, dingle
- eidolon, epeolatry, epopt, espalier, etui, exoterica
- fabiform, Feghoot, fissilingual, Föhnkrankheit, folderol, froward
- gallinipper, grandgore, grue, guilloche, gyaru
- hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia, hobson-jobson, hogo, honorificabilitudinitatibus
- ignivomous, iracund, isabelline, itaiitai
- jabroni, jamais vu, jehu, jumentous
- kaffir, kakopygian, kayfabe, knipperdollin
- lagniappe, leman, lemniscate, limnovore, linsey-woolsey, longicorn
- malacia, malison, maroon, milt, mongo, mooncalf, morepork, muzjiks
- narrenfreiheit, nef, nihilartikel, nobiliary particle, nosism
- ochanee, ogonek, ombré, ooglification, orchidectomy, ordured, orf
- pace, pareidolia, pavonated, perendiate, perigee, petrichor, pettifogger, pettitoes, phlegmagogue, pismire, pogonip, pong, pruniferous, puggle, pulveratricious, purse
- quacksalver, quagga, qualtagh, quidnunc, quiff
- ronion, roynish, rubirosa, rumpsprung, runcible
- salmagundi, scrutator, seneschal, sharrow, shebang, sinople, slampadato, slubberdegullion, stan, stevedore, suovetaurilia
- tappen, teratogenesis, tergiversate, tetromino, thagomizer, thon, tiffin, tittery-whoppet, tmesis, toby, tutoyer, tyro
- ucalegon, ultramontane, umiaq, umquhile
- veneficial, verdigris, vespertilionine, vinegeroon
- weeaboo, widdiful, williwaw, witzelsucht, wooper looper
- xenodocheionology, xyster
- yazoo, ypsiliform, yoink
- zanjero, zenzizenzizenzic, zinnober, zugzwang
Read more:
all things verbal,
strange and wonderful words
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Deflating Balloon Fight
As it does fairly frequently, Nintendo did something funny. This particular funny thing happened in 1990, when it released a Game Boy game, Balloon Kid, as a sequel to its 1984 title, Balloon Fight.
A lot of Nintendo’s lesser-known titles saw sequels rendered in the glorious creamed spinach color of the Game Boy, I suspect because these cheaper, shorter games presented less risk to the companies that made them. In any case, non-A-list Nintendo franchises like Metroid and Kid Icarus saw their first sequels on the Game Boy before getting more respect on “proper” systems years later. Balloon Fight did too, with Balloon Kid and its floaty airborne adventure through the pointy-tipped landscape of Pencilvania (ha!), but it as a franchise never really crawled out from the bargain bin.
And that’s too bad, because it’s a fun little game — a festive little variation on Joust where in balloons replace funny flying ostriches. Flit about, clip the balloons attached to the bad guys and, if you want, also pop the balloons keeping Player Two aloft.
There’s also an alternate mode unique to the NES version, “Balloon Trip,” where in one player can float in one direction, attempting to snag free-floating balloons while avoiding obstacles. (Weirdly, the screen scrolls right-to-left — a rarity in platforming video games.)
It’s the second mode that Nintendo chose to focus on in the sequel, but that choice isn’t the strange one. As I realized while reading The Gay Gamer’s entry on Balloon Kid, Nintendo’s strange move was actually the one to switch the gender the main character. In place of the anonymous little dude in the skydiving suit is Alice, a little girl wearing a bow in her hair. In fact, Alice is the second-ever female character to be the main controllable one in a Nintendo game. (The first is Samus from Metroid, whose space armor totally disguises her gender until the end of the game — and even then only if you meet certain conditions. Bubbles, the lead of the Pac-Man-like Clu Clu Land, is only female in the U.S. Alice, however, is clearly female from the get-go.)
Alice and her unflinching girliness are also featured fairly prominently in the box art.
So why make this call? Why make the second entry in the franchise stand out by putting a girl in the lead role? The game was fun, as I remember, but it didn’t benefit from the fact that its main character wore a skirt. Of course, Alice being female didn’t have any effect on the gameplay, exactly, but what it did do was turn off a few boys who saw the box art and decided they didn’t want to be caught playing a “girl’s game.” In the end, Balloon Kid didn’t become a major seller, and Balloon Fight as a franchise never really went anywhere. Mr. Anonymous Fighter was shortlisted for inclusion in one of the Smash Bros. games, but ultimate didn’t make the cut. And the series has yet to get a new entry. Balloon Kid, however, did find a strange second life that further situated it in the “girl’s game” ghetto: It underwent a makeover and finally got released in Japan as Hello Kitty World, with that weirdly mouthless Sanrio cat replacing Alice.
Hello Kitty and her friends being the sort that typically decorate the backpacks and pencil boxes of young women, Nintendo clearly thought the game, with the proper dressings, could appear to girls, though I’m not sure what it is exactly about balloons that skews feminine.
So what eventually became of Balloon Fight? Not all that much. Like I said, the Balloon Fighter himself just missed out on Smash Bros.. However, the original title scored a remake in 2007 for the Nintendo DS as Tingle’s Balloon Fight, starring one of Nintendo’s least masculine characters ever — Tingle, the Zelda series’s middle-aged, spandex clad man who thinks he’s a fairy. (What, you mean every long-running video game franchise doesn’t have one?)
Nintendo was a lot more straightforward about the fact that they were mashing a foreign character into Balloon Fight, hence this cover with Tingle being taped into the original box art. For what it’s worth, Tingle already had an association with balloon travel…
But the fact that the this version of Balloon Fight starred a character most gamers seem to have a hard time loving — and furthermore it was only released in Japan and only made available to Club Nintendo members — makes me think Nintendo maybe isn’t as interested in making the franchise as popular as it could be. Which is too bad, because the series features simple, fun arcade-style play at its best, no matter how Nintendo dresses it up.
Games and gender stuff, previously:
A lot of Nintendo’s lesser-known titles saw sequels rendered in the glorious creamed spinach color of the Game Boy, I suspect because these cheaper, shorter games presented less risk to the companies that made them. In any case, non-A-list Nintendo franchises like Metroid and Kid Icarus saw their first sequels on the Game Boy before getting more respect on “proper” systems years later. Balloon Fight did too, with Balloon Kid and its floaty airborne adventure through the pointy-tipped landscape of Pencilvania (ha!), but it as a franchise never really crawled out from the bargain bin.
And that’s too bad, because it’s a fun little game — a festive little variation on Joust where in balloons replace funny flying ostriches. Flit about, clip the balloons attached to the bad guys and, if you want, also pop the balloons keeping Player Two aloft.
![]() |
| original dude on the left, his successor on the right |
Alice and her unflinching girliness are also featured fairly prominently in the box art.
So why make this call? Why make the second entry in the franchise stand out by putting a girl in the lead role? The game was fun, as I remember, but it didn’t benefit from the fact that its main character wore a skirt. Of course, Alice being female didn’t have any effect on the gameplay, exactly, but what it did do was turn off a few boys who saw the box art and decided they didn’t want to be caught playing a “girl’s game.” In the end, Balloon Kid didn’t become a major seller, and Balloon Fight as a franchise never really went anywhere. Mr. Anonymous Fighter was shortlisted for inclusion in one of the Smash Bros. games, but ultimate didn’t make the cut. And the series has yet to get a new entry. Balloon Kid, however, did find a strange second life that further situated it in the “girl’s game” ghetto: It underwent a makeover and finally got released in Japan as Hello Kitty World, with that weirdly mouthless Sanrio cat replacing Alice.
Hello Kitty and her friends being the sort that typically decorate the backpacks and pencil boxes of young women, Nintendo clearly thought the game, with the proper dressings, could appear to girls, though I’m not sure what it is exactly about balloons that skews feminine.
So what eventually became of Balloon Fight? Not all that much. Like I said, the Balloon Fighter himself just missed out on Smash Bros.. However, the original title scored a remake in 2007 for the Nintendo DS as Tingle’s Balloon Fight, starring one of Nintendo’s least masculine characters ever — Tingle, the Zelda series’s middle-aged, spandex clad man who thinks he’s a fairy. (What, you mean every long-running video game franchise doesn’t have one?)
Nintendo was a lot more straightforward about the fact that they were mashing a foreign character into Balloon Fight, hence this cover with Tingle being taped into the original box art. For what it’s worth, Tingle already had an association with balloon travel…
But the fact that the this version of Balloon Fight starred a character most gamers seem to have a hard time loving — and furthermore it was only released in Japan and only made available to Club Nintendo members — makes me think Nintendo maybe isn’t as interested in making the franchise as popular as it could be. Which is too bad, because the series features simple, fun arcade-style play at its best, no matter how Nintendo dresses it up.
Games and gender stuff, previously:
- Another strange case of a clearly gendered game: the arcade title Ladybug
- The legend of Zelda’s considerably less famous little brother
- How Mortal Kombat criticisms tend to focused squarely on the game’s sole white, blonde, female fighter
- The one female Robot Master in the entire Mega Man franchise
- Vagina dentata in the Mushroom Kingdom
Amazombies
Remember that street sign from not-my-street deposited on my street? Back, like, almost a month ago? Guess how far it has moved.
From flat on the grass to propped up next to the palm tree on the grass. Seriously, what level of city government does one notify about this kind of thing?
From flat on the grass to propped up next to the palm tree on the grass. Seriously, what level of city government does one notify about this kind of thing?
Read more:
los angeles,
mysteries
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