Because I don't really know what to write about right now I decided to start writing about assholes for a little while.
The TV series Columbo starred Peter Falk as an eccentric detective named Columbo. the character's first name was never actually mentioned in the show.
Frank L Worth created a fake article in his book, The Trivia Encyclopedia that claimed that the first name of the character was "Philip".
Later, in the boardgame Trivial Pursuit, there was a question regarding Columbo's first name. The answer given in the game was Philip.
Frank L Worth sued the makers of the game (the entry was created as a copy right trap in the first place) for 300 million dollars. He claimed that the game used his book as a source and that he saw no money from it. The makers of the game did not deny that they used his book, but said they had the right to, as it was just another source of information to draw from for a trivia game.
Worth lost the case and did not get 300 million dollars. Not only was the foundation that his case rested on retarded, but it was a lie as well.
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The second person I would like to write about is the person who designed the playground that was next to my synagogue as a child. I don't know who this person is, but their creation hurt me. I got my head stuck in the bars holding up the slide. The fire dept. had to get me out. I may elaborate on this story later.
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This person's friends.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXr7IRNDOlA
To be continued
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Joshua: Raging homosexual drug addict.
A family friend came with her son and daughter to visit us last week. Also visiting were a couple of my sister's friends, one of which now lives in France, and as such, rarely visits. We ate some lovely mushroom stew my father made. It really was quite delicious.
The son of the family friend is a quiet boy the grade under me in school. He's quite nice, and is cultivating quite the jewfro. Actually, it may be a mexifro, as his father was born in Argentina, but his father is Jewish as well as Argentinian, confusing matters all the more.
The point here is, he has lovely large hair.
I was seated next to him during the meal, and occasionally rubbed his head, to which he responded by laughing when his mother shot me odd glances. He wasn;t so bothered, but eventually
Family Friend: Josh, why don't you bother the girls? It's weird, bothering boys.
Her Son: Ma, it's fine.
Me: Do any of the girls have such lovely hair?
Later
FF: Josh, look at FrenchGirl, look how pretty she is! Bother her!
Right-o.
Later on:
FF: Now Josh, remember: Don't do drugs. Don't drink!
My Dad: And don't have sex, and don't drive! Not all at once, at least!
Her Son: *Snort*
Later, I hear her talking to my father
FF: Is he always like this?
My Dad: Some little explanation thingie
FF: Oh, I hear a lot of artists are like that.
I've got an artistic temperament, wouldn'tchaknow. Just need to figure out the actual art bit.
By the end of the evening, I felt like some sort of cross between George Michael and Iggy Pop. I proved my manliness to myself later on by showing clips from the Story of Ricky to her son.
The son of the family friend is a quiet boy the grade under me in school. He's quite nice, and is cultivating quite the jewfro. Actually, it may be a mexifro, as his father was born in Argentina, but his father is Jewish as well as Argentinian, confusing matters all the more.
The point here is, he has lovely large hair.
I was seated next to him during the meal, and occasionally rubbed his head, to which he responded by laughing when his mother shot me odd glances. He wasn;t so bothered, but eventually
Family Friend: Josh, why don't you bother the girls? It's weird, bothering boys.
Her Son: Ma, it's fine.
Me: Do any of the girls have such lovely hair?
Later
FF: Josh, look at FrenchGirl, look how pretty she is! Bother her!
Right-o.
Later on:
FF: Now Josh, remember: Don't do drugs. Don't drink!
My Dad: And don't have sex, and don't drive! Not all at once, at least!
Her Son: *Snort*
Later, I hear her talking to my father
FF: Is he always like this?
My Dad: Some little explanation thingie
FF: Oh, I hear a lot of artists are like that.
I've got an artistic temperament, wouldn'tchaknow. Just need to figure out the actual art bit.
By the end of the evening, I felt like some sort of cross between George Michael and Iggy Pop. I proved my manliness to myself later on by showing clips from the Story of Ricky to her son.
Friday, August 15, 2008
On comedians
The worst thing is when someone tells you to check out a comedian, or shows one to you, and they simply aren't funny. It's bad for a couple of reasons.
1. You've wasted minutes of precious, precious life.
2. If you are friends with the person who has shown you the comedian, you begin to wonder about their sense of humor. The person in question may be a very funny person, but you start to notice things that they do that the comedian they have shown you does, and it can affect your entire perception of that person. Then, you start to feel bad about having your perception skewed by such a stupid thing. Then, you justify your feelings to yourself and work yourself up in ANGER over this person's UTTER STUPIDITY and BAD TASTE. Then, you feel guilty for that yet again. The cycle never ends.
Of course, after that, you realize that you've shown other people tons of things in the past that they didn't find funny at all and you hope that they don;t think the same way you do or else they're trapped in the same cycle as you are and they may be in the "HATRED of UTTER STUPIDITY" part.
1. You've wasted minutes of precious, precious life.
2. If you are friends with the person who has shown you the comedian, you begin to wonder about their sense of humor. The person in question may be a very funny person, but you start to notice things that they do that the comedian they have shown you does, and it can affect your entire perception of that person. Then, you start to feel bad about having your perception skewed by such a stupid thing. Then, you justify your feelings to yourself and work yourself up in ANGER over this person's UTTER STUPIDITY and BAD TASTE. Then, you feel guilty for that yet again. The cycle never ends.
Of course, after that, you realize that you've shown other people tons of things in the past that they didn't find funny at all and you hope that they don;t think the same way you do or else they're trapped in the same cycle as you are and they may be in the "HATRED of UTTER STUPIDITY" part.
Finally finished my internship!
I apologize for the lack of updates. I really, really suck at that. I need more discipline.
Yup.
Discipline.
DISCIPLINE!
So, back to the title of this blog. I finished my program with the local television station, and the Publice Service Announcement I made on animal neutering will be up sometime in September. At that point I will provide a link to it.
This has been a spaceholder blog post.
Yup.
Discipline.

So, back to the title of this blog. I finished my program with the local television station, and the Publice Service Announcement I made on animal neutering will be up sometime in September. At that point I will provide a link to it.
This has been a spaceholder blog post.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
The television, 2 of my best friends
I was up a couple nights ago watching comedy central while doing my laundry, and the commercial break came up. I think sometimes the programmers fall asleep or something, because often, the end of one commercial will be cut off and it'll go straight to another one. This one commercial was about some TV show making fun of celebrities, and then it switched. So, it went something like this:
"Watch these celebrities get what they deserve--"
"NATURAL MAAAAALE ENHANCEMENT! Extenze has been proven to do one thing-- increase the size of a certain organ."
Then, the next commercial break, there was an ad for a herpes medication. Very strategic.
.....................................................................................................................................................
When I was just a little boy, my best friend was a boy named Matthew. This was back before preschool.
Matthew used to say mean things about my sister. This was an affront to my manhood. How dare this happen! How could he say these things, and me not abuse her? The fact that she was a ballerina and that I hadn't pushed on the ground and made her cry recently made me a disgrace to boys everywhere. So, I would do just that, and feel a mixture of guilt and manliness, until my sister ran to one of my parents and complained, at which point the manliness was replaced by fear, and the resulting exchange would go like this:
Parent: Josh, why did you push your sister?
Me: Matthew said I should!
Matthew: I didn't do anything!
Parent: Josh, I'm very disappointed in you. I'm going to have to call Matthew's parents and have them pick him up.
At which point they would do so, while I cried bitter tears and my sister smirked through fake ones, little 3 year old whore that she was. Eventually, Matthew moved away and I never saw him again. Before that happened, though, the above events happened over and over.
My next best friend was during my preschool era. He was named Ari. I was very jealous of his bowl cut. I really wanted one, but my hair was too Jewish and didn't grow correctly.
Ari had a lot I was jealous of besides his hair. He was also able to do flips in the air.
Ari could also dance like Michael Jackson.
"Watch these celebrities get what they deserve--"
"NATURAL MAAAAALE ENHANCEMENT! Extenze has been proven to do one thing-- increase the size of a certain organ."
Then, the next commercial break, there was an ad for a herpes medication. Very strategic.
.....................................................................................................................................................
When I was just a little boy, my best friend was a boy named Matthew. This was back before preschool.
Matthew used to say mean things about my sister. This was an affront to my manhood. How dare this happen! How could he say these things, and me not abuse her? The fact that she was a ballerina and that I hadn't pushed on the ground and made her cry recently made me a disgrace to boys everywhere. So, I would do just that, and feel a mixture of guilt and manliness, until my sister ran to one of my parents and complained, at which point the manliness was replaced by fear, and the resulting exchange would go like this:
Parent: Josh, why did you push your sister?
Me: Matthew said I should!
Matthew: I didn't do anything!
Parent: Josh, I'm very disappointed in you. I'm going to have to call Matthew's parents and have them pick him up.
At which point they would do so, while I cried bitter tears and my sister smirked through fake ones, little 3 year old whore that she was. Eventually, Matthew moved away and I never saw him again. Before that happened, though, the above events happened over and over.
My next best friend was during my preschool era. He was named Ari. I was very jealous of his bowl cut. I really wanted one, but my hair was too Jewish and didn't grow correctly.
Ari had a lot I was jealous of besides his hair. He was also able to do flips in the air.
Ari could also dance like Michael Jackson.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
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