August 21, 2009

Stone Free

As a young RoBeast, I grew up on the Jersey Shore, in an area with many man-made lagoons. Not a lot of the properties in my area had the ability to grow much of a lawn, so most people opted for stones instead. Tons and tons of stones.

Some people had smooth rounded white pebbles that felt gave a nice massage to bare feet in the summer. Others had small bluish-gray spiked rocks that may as well have been landmines. Just like with grass, these masses were alive and required regular maintenance. Cars parking and feet walking moved the stone lawns like liquid. Spreading stones with a shovel or a rake made a sound that resembled the waves at Seaside.

I preferred to do my part by picking up an obsession with throwing them instead. I threw them over power lines into the unknown woods while waiting for the bus. Sometimes I aimed for fences, mailboxes, and telephone poles. You could write with a rock on a well-paved road and then toss it away when you lost the inspiration. Kicking them was fun too. So was hitting them like a baseball with pieces of rebar lying around at my grandfather's house. Most of of all, I loved throwing them into the water. Skipping them was a competition, but throwing them in by the handful was making music--different sizes at different times produced different chimes.

I was constantly being told not to throw rocks, but I couldn't help myself. At summer camp, I accidentally hit a kid (Something-Fusco) in the hand with a jagged stone and gave him a nasty gash. Another time, I overestimated my arm and watched the rock arc directly into a large window across the street. I was trying to clear the house entirely and sink it into the next lagoon over. For my failure I had to pay the neighbor (Norman-Something) for a new window.

The incidents ceased when I eventually traded in the rocks for racquet balls at recess (Wall-Ball saved my life!), but I can't say I ever really grew out of the obsession. It's really a good thing that I wasn't born in India, or else I'd probably be one of the many proud idiots injured today in their annual stone-fighting celebration.

It's better luck to get hit in the head with seagull shit anyway.

Another Test Disguised as a Post

I came across this odd slide during an online safety training session about Egresses and Emergency Action Plans:

I don't really have anything to say about it other than it reminded me of this hilarious moment in SemanticMan history.

PS: It's ok to laugh at his post though--it's not about a 20th century date that never stood a chance.

August 19, 2009

If this shows up on Facebook automatically

then I did something right.

No 'staches, hammerhead!

Someone is FUCKING with me

I don't know who, but it's someone that has a stick up their ass with "agenda" written all over it. I'm not sure if I mean "agenda" is written on the stick or the person's ass, but I think you get the point. The thing I have to spend time bitching about today is the ramifications of my SafeSearch filter being stuck in the ON position.


I went apeshit this morning because I was trying to search specific terms related to this blog, and nothing was coming up. I couldn't even search the site with the on-site Google search tool in the sidebar. The only hits I got were references to "beautyandtherobeast.blogspot.com" on other sites and links by my blogmigos.

I immediately started asking around on Twitter to see if anyone was having the same problem, but everything worked fine for everybody except me. I frantically started typing a question on the Google Help Forum, but wanted to gather some more research first. I went into GChat and grabbed the first person on the list to run a search for me. Alan from NegativePop had no issues with his search results and then suggested that maybe it was a search filter problem on my end. I checked my settings and that was exactly it.

But...
...my "Do not filter" circle is clearly checked off. So what gives?

I went to Bing and this website didn't show up until the 2nd page of search results. It at least showed up this time, but I was still stuck on the Strict level of their Safesearch. Yahoo's got me defaulted at the middle level of Safesearch:

There, beautyandtherobeast.blogspot.com comes up first, but I still can't change the filter settings to what I really want! Why can't I change it?

Turns out that my computer isn't the only computer in the building stuck on this setting (I'm at work, I should've mentioned that earlier. I'm, uh, writing this on my lunch break, obviously). For years, IT has banned us from viewing image hosting sites, personal storage sites, dating sites, adult sites, and any site that the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Exposions would be interested in (though strangely, I can go to their site), but now it seems that they would like to limit our searches as well. And of course I understand why--they're trying to protect their computers from harmful badstuffs. Talk about a killjoy though. Is my site really so subversive to corporate culture that someone wearing a tie shouldn't be able to accidentally stumble on my ideas via the Google Search engine? Pffft, Braaaap, & Thwick.

These highly entertaining sound effects beg another question: Why is this blog being filed under Explicit or Adult? Gio's blog is showing on the first page of search results on Google, and a huge portion of his content is devoted to porn reviews. Jay's Sexy Armpit (which I will now refer to as Sex-Pit for short) isn't explicit at all, but it does have the word "Sex" in the title. That is able to pass through the Safesearch filter with no problem, but mine isn't. (Don't worry boys, I'm not trying to throw you under the bus... just giving you some free plugs!) Maybe naked girls being posted is Adult Content, but drawing Nintendo tattoos on them definitely makes it kewl for the kiddies, right? No? Ok, well then I blame teh Beauty's centaur porn posts (which coincidentally makes up 99.23987% of the traffic here). As a fan of things that come with warning labels, I will wear this as a badge of honor.

Here's something I just discovered: my computer isn't the only computer in the building stuck on this setting (I'm at work, I should've mentioned that earlier. I'm, uh, writing this on my lunch break, obviously). For years, IT has banned us from viewing image hosting sites, personal storage sites, dating sites, adult sites, and any site that the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Exposions would be interested in (though strangely, I can go to their site), but now it seems that they would like to limit our searches as well. And of course I understand why--they're trying to protect their computers from harmful badstuffs. Talk about a killjoy though. Is my site really so subversive to corporate culture that someone wearing a tie shouldn't be able to accidentally stumble on my ideas via the Google Search engine? Pffft, Braaaap, & Thwick.

Obviously, I'll find a way around my search problem (I'm having no problems with unfiltered searches on Dogpile, Altavista, Ask, etc.), but I think it is incredibly lame to now know that anyone with a strict filter, whether it be self-imposed, accidental, or mandated, won't find this entry. I have no intentions of playing the game and cleaning things up to get my PG-13 rating, so your dirty, hairy, foul-mouthed RoBeast lives on.

Take that Mr. Poopy Pants.

August 18, 2009

Striker Striker Striker Striker...

Trident Layers is a new gum that will start appearing in stores over the next few weeks (I hear that you can find it at Target right now). As the name suggests, it's a multi-layered hunk of gum with a fruit flavored center. A "gum sandwich" is what most people are calling it, but just to be different I'll call it Gumsagna. Or maybe Lay-sagna? I don't know.

I've had both flavors (each flavor has two flavors) and I have to say it's pretty tasty. But I'm not here on Erff to sell you gum--I'm here to dick around with MS Paint and occasionally make smart-ass jokes. The first time I heard the brand name, my Scrabble-playing brain immediately started layering the layers...

layerslayerslayerslayerslayerslayerslayer...
















It's a natural marriage, no? Kicking ass and chewing gum? Imagine they asked Slayer to play in the commercials? I can see it now... "Raining Gum... from a Naturally Flavored Sky!" The packaging is just begging for the Slayer font. How fucking awesome would it be to see this on a billboard while you're stuck in traffic?


There's only one way out of here... piece by piece.

August 7, 2009

O BOY

I got the Van Gogh-Kart repaired in time to catch a photo of this amazing license plate:

Personally I think a backwards 2 may have been more readable than the backwards S, but hey, it's not my car.

August 6, 2009

RadioShack's Radio Sack

According to the research of uncool marketers, RadioShack will be cooler by referring to itself simply as The Shack. I haven't seen Shaquille O'Neal's official statement yet, but I personally think the switch is sort of lame. Part of it is my natural aversion to corporations trying to be cool on purpose and then putting out press releases announcing it (ATTN: NEWS MEDIA - WE'RE ABOUT TO BE FETCH). Pizza Hut apparently did something similar this year, trying to push The Hut. I don't believe that caught on.

Maybe it's cool for customers or employees to call it The Shack in private (does anyone do that?), but once corporate makes it official, it automatically loses its cred. If Target started rerferring to itself with the fake french pronunciation, it would be funny for a second, but lame if they actually committed millions of dollars to it by hiring a team to make a campaign out of it with their power point pie charts and subway posters.

My other problem is that I just happen to like the name RadioShack and the nerdy homegrown tech-head connotation that surrounds it. Maybe the word is "old-fashioned" (like shopping in an actual store, no?) but to remove it is to blandize the image that built the business. RadioShack is a place for a geeks to drool on a thousand different audio adaptors. The Shack is for dirty water dogs, porno mags, and termites.

Anyways, I just put my feelings onto a floppy disk, stuck it in the Tandy, and it outputted this haiku onto the dot matrix:

Radio power
An invisible lightning
sets the Shack on fire


What would happen if everyone got into this nickname trend? If you wanted to meet me at The Barrel, would we be buying furniture with elitists or eating cheese with racists?


A few years back Mountain Dew tried to make us "Do the Dew." Would Sephora be able to make us "Do the Hora?"

Would the whippersnappers continue buying the freshest clothes at Aeropostale?

Technically, this should be Le Sac:

This makes no sense logically or economically, but I've always wanted to fist the Fuddrucker's sign:
And we're done here.

-The Beast

August 4, 2009

YA RLY

I'm not here to defend The Birther movement, or Orly "The Owl" Taitz, Esquire. To be honest, I really know extremely little about this nutty little conspiracy theory and the news coverage it has suddenly garnered. I also have no interest in digging any deeper to understand or investigate it. I could have been completely ignorant and oblivious to the whole story had it not just been mentioned so many times today on my Facebook feed.

Here's the link. Watch it. Breathe.

Now tell me, where is there a "meltdown"? Can you show me just where someone "implodes"? Where do they "lose it"?

Here's a brief example of an emotional and physical meltdown:


It's obvious that at one point, Lex Lugar's brain actually stops working here (insert joke), and he just freaks out. Other than the frustration of constantly being interrupted (and ultimately ganged up on), Orly hardly got "emotional" during the interview. She didn't cry when they started baiting her with indirect ad hominem attacks. She didn't get up and leave or punch anyone when she started getting double-teamed. She didn't have a hoedown when she couldn't sum her argument in a two-second soundbyte. She just sat there and kept trying to state her case. Maybe she repeated herself, but it's clear that she (thinks she) has a complex argument that involves a lot of talking points and chronology. JUST LET HER FUCKING FINISH, SHUSTER, AND THEN YOU CAN DEBATE. Or if you have no intention of even letting her make any points, then don't invite her on the show and pretend that you're going to have an exclusive in-depth conversation.

Ok, maybe I'm naive for assuming that a 6-minute news segment is actually a worthwhile place to have a real debate, but I'm not the one claiming victory here. This interview doesn't sum up the Republican party. It isn't a diagnosis of a "crazy" person. And it certainly doesn't help make a case for or against the issue at hand. It's obvious to me that the hosts thought they were sitting on a potential viral goldmine just by booking this interview, pushing a few buttons, then sitting back and smirking while the video was captured. Judging by the attention it's gotten, they've achieved that, but I think the headlines were written before the microphone was even opened anyway. The news media is constantly clammoring for "the career-ending interview," or the "big expose," or the "mega freakout." This was nothing more than another really lame public argument with no resolution. And everyone ends up losing.

However silly I may think Orly's accent, high pitched voice, and funny name is doesn't make this a comedy*. It's a tragedy how insulting the hosts of this show acted and how overblown the reactions to the video are (including mine, perhaps?). Maybe she is crazy. Maybe the whole Birther movement is crazy. This interview certainly didn't prove it. It's unfortunate that I'm so distracted by the shitty news media that I'm actually sympathetic for a conspiracy theorist.

- Oversensitive RoBeast, Devil's Advocate, Esq.

*Ok, I admit: funny name is funny.