Blalk

Blog is a contraction of web log. Blalk is a web talk. I just invented it. Yes, the name isn't very good, and maybe the concept isn't either. But it's a novelty and it amuses me. I'm giving a talk in an hour, and the following are outtakes, bonus features works cited.

My Top 25 Holidays:

1. Halloween
2. Christmas Eve
3. Christmas
4. Mardi Gras
5. Groundhog Day
6. Pi Day
7. St. Patrick’s Day
8. My Birthday
9. Cinco De Mayo
10. Love Sucks Day (Valentine’s Day)
11. Leap Day
12. Fallback
13. Thanksgiving
14. Vernal Equinox
15. New Year’s Eve
16. Friday the 13th
17. Independence Day
18. Boxing Day
19. April Fool’s Day
20. Easter
21. Summer Solstice
22. All Saints Day
23. Autumnal Equinox
24. Memorial Day
25. Winter Solstice

President Monson's Talk

Every President Monson Talk
- Must involve widows.
- Must be in passive voice.
- Must have story about Tommy.
- Must speak in triples. "This talk was heard before. This talk is heard now. This talk will be heard in the future."
- Chock full of adverbs, allusions and alliteration.

Patton doing his thang (which includes a curse or two)



Barney, being his awesome self



Also, you can buy this shirt!



CBT - Cognitive Behavioral Therapy






Rolling Stones + House = ok mashup



Here's a weird Disney /Avenue Q Mashup:



Used verses 7-9

Cut this analogy:

We can think about our trials as punishments. But unless you’re a masochist, that’s not going to make you happy. I’m honestly not sure how to teach the Gospel to masochists. If you instead think of your trial as tempering, you might see God’s plan. The difference between a sword and scrapmetal is that scrapmetal doesn’t have any problems. It just gets to sit there, languishing, as scrapmetal. When the swordsmith takes that scrapmetal, heats it till it's nearly molten and hit over and over by a hammer, it can become a sword. I’m not suggesting metal can think, but if it did, the metal could choose to be angry that it’s being so contorted, or it could choose to be happy that it’s becoming a sword and gets to fulfill it's swordly destiny in Lord of the Rings, or whatever else the posh sword life entails.

And this story:

During med school we learn a little bit of phlebotomy. If a nurse if having trouble drawing blood she should theoretically be able to ask a doctor to help. Why would a nurse, who does this multiple times a day, ask a doctor, who did it a couple times in med school, to help? No one knows. In any case we learn how to do it. Obviously none of us are any good at it, as it requires practice, of which we have little to none. So it's painful, and awkward, and a bit embarrassing. And since I had a number of cute girls in my group I offer to be stuck additional times. Because clearly having track marks is the best way to impress your classmates. We all had a problem (learning to draw blood) and we all found a solution by relying on our friends to help us out.

Because they're convoluted and unclear.

I hope this blalk has supplemented your intellectual and spiritual experience of my talk.

Breakin' the Law (and/or Stupidity Tax 2)

I’ve been speeding for the last decade. I’m not proud of it exactly, it just happens. I like driving fast, I like not being late, and I like not leaving early. I listen to fast music. I date fast women. And when you have a Subaru, you have to show folks what it can do.

And until recently, I’d outrun the coppers. I developed techniques and strategies to avoid the fuzz. But on Halloween they caught me.

I feel like women have a variety of options when they see those lights behind them. They can flirt, cry, play dumb, use mace. Guys on the other hand have play dumb. And unfortunately, I’m not very good at playing dumb.

But I tried. The speed limit was 45? I was going 56? Well, that was really my only defense. And I’m guessing a lot of the time this would work. But not in this case. Because:

1. It was Halloween and it was 2 in the morning. Stupid church activity.
2. I didn’t have my license. Again, stupid church activity. Sure, I’m glad people helped me load my car with the supplies from the Spook Alley. That was great. The fact that they put my backpack in my roommate’s car, not so great. The bag that had my wallet in it. He wasn’t too impressed with my excuse.
3. My fingernails were painted. Admittedly, I don’t think he noticed. But I noticed. What’s worse than being pulled over in the middle of the night? How about wearing nail polish from your now-absent Halloween costume? Awesome.

Seeing as I’ve never received a speeding ticket, I may have gotten a warning, but not when I couldn’t show him a license. So, there goes 146 dollars, low insurance rates and the carefree days of my youth.

Neglect

Poor neglected blog. The following are blog posts that I've been meaning to write:

Different Folks
She's Crafty
King of the Nerds
Breakin' the Law
Flaming Bird

Maybe they'll get written, maybe you'll just have to make up what they're about.

What I will write is this:

ChrisMix 09 (clever title to be determined at a later date)

Kid-Sized reminded me the other day that I needed to get working on my ChrisMix. So today, rather than studying for the last hour, I picked out my top 500 songs of the year. Over the next month I'll whittle that down to 20ish.

Place your order now.

Lady Gaga Needs to Make a Horror Movie

I'd watch it, but maybe that's not saying much.

I'm not actually as into Lady Gaga as my blog would lead you to believe.

Lady Gaga Needs to Make a Horror Movie

I'd watch it. Maybe that's not saying much.

Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth?

Chris Tucker. Rush Hour.

Funshine: “Am I supposed to get the meaning behind your comment? . . . I'm sorry Chris we just don't hang out enough for me to get your language”
Renard: “Chris, I still remember . . . the strangest things coming out of your mouth.”
Stems: “How do you do that? Are you making this stuff up right now?”

Evidently, I have my own language. Chrispeak. Unfortunately, I seem to be the only one that’s fluent. I don’t know if I can teach you how to speak it, but I can provide some basic principles that should at least make interpretation easier.

1. Welcome to the Gun Show.
I like to flex. Some people flex by using words like sacrosanct or soporific or supernal. And that’s all fine and well; I do that sometimes. But that’s really the fast-track to pretentious, not flexible. I like to flex by connecting things. Stems was confused because I picked up some banjo picks (which I didn’t bend) and started talking about homemade Catwoman suits, Michelle Pfeiffer playing the banjo etc. If I don’t keep connecting things I get bored. So expect frequent jumps to topics that are only loosely related, and enjoy the ride.

2. Just the Facts Mam.
I like to flex, and don’t mind how convoluted and inefficient conversations get because of it. But I hate conversations being inefficient for no reason. So I nearly always skip the “How’re the kids” and the “Goodbye” parts of the conversation. Jump into it, then keep moving.

3. Everybody lies.
Bookwormwood and Husky have taken to questioning every little thing I say, which I must say, is counterproductive. I lie for the same reason I connect banjos and Batman; it’s flexing. It’s easy to tell the truth, it’s hard to come up with convincing and entertaining lies. But I’m not actually trying to bear false witness, just entertain, myself and/or others. So almost always (excluding stories about twins or ice cream eating championships) I’ll tell you which parts were lies by the end of the conversation. Another clue: if it’s funny it’s fake, if it’s boring it’s the truth. Why would I make a boring lie? And when is the truth of my life funny?

4. Srsly.
I was recently asked if I’m ever serious. Making out, temple sessions, suicidal patients, residency interviews, I’ve yet to encounter an experience where flippant remarks didn’t come to mind. Obviously I censor myself when necessary, but it’s so rarely necessary. Meaningful doesn’t require boring, and jokes shouldn’t restrict conversation, they should enhance it.

5. Keep Your Enemies Closer.
If I’m making fun of you, chances are very good that I like you, and feel that your ego strength is sufficient to withstand my barrage. I try not to make fun of people I don’t like, and if I do, it’s certainly not to their face. So if you’re being mocked, you’re in like flint. If you’re not, I may not be too fond of you. Or maybe you have no foibles to flaunt.

6. Nothing Bears Repeating.
I hate retelling stories. I hate hearing stories retold. However, I love being self referential. So I don’t want to retell the story about Shoneys, but I want to be able to compare things to it. Unfortunately this means I prefer my company to have been with me for past experiences so we have the same pool of experiences. Which means I tend to keep talking to the same people. So part of Chrispeak is that it discourages branching out.

7. SpongeChris.
I’m a tv/movie/music/(former) literature person. Even if I don’t like a certain element of our culture, I try to at least be aware of it. My average conversation would have a lot of footnotes to various media. If you don’t have the cultural background, the conversation may not make a lot of sense. This is why I’ve given up talking to exchange students.

8. Jump . . . to Conclusions.
I often jump straight to the punchline/conclusion without laying out all the groundwork. When it works we save a lot of time. When it doesn’t, just ask me to start at the beginning.

Hopefully these points will make me little less indecipherable. Because we all want to be decipherable.



Media referenced in blog post: Rush Hour, CareBears, Batman Returns, Anchorman, Dragnet, internetese, The Godfather, SpongeBob, Office Space

That's The Impression That I Get

Hatrack: “Chris, you seem like the kind of guy that doesn’t recycle.” What? I’m not saying I’m the world’s best recycler, because I’m not. I’m probably not in the top 3 billion. But what about me indicates I’m not a recycler? Mostly correct.

Me: “I’ve never cursed.”
Bookwormwood: “That’s a lie. Yes you have.” I haven’t. With the exception of the first instance, when I learned it was a curse, and when yelling random consonants which happen to converge into a four letter word, I haven’t sworn. What about me indicates that I’ve a sailor’s mouth? Incorrect.

Fruhead: “You seem like a Star Wars guy.” Incorrect. I may know more about Star Wars than you, but I don’t like it. Star Wars is pretty much the epitome of overrated. Good special effects yes, but the rest of it does little for me. Especially Mark Hamill. He's like a fork in my eye. I repeat, Incorrect.

People are hard to read. Keep trying.

Lentish 2

Like most males, I enjoy video games. Playing video games was a popular past time of my youth. After my mission I decided that video games were not the best use of my time. Shocking, I realize. I don’t think video games rot your brain or lead people to shoot up schools or any other malarkey reasons that parents may give for why video games are evil. I stopped playing video games because they impaired my socializing, and being an anti-social person to begin with, this wasn’t something I needed to promote. So while I occasionally indulge in the bliss of gaming, I made a rule for myself. I could play video games, but only when it was with others. If the video games enhanced my socializing, rather than hindering it, they were an acceptable use of my time.

Last Thursday I made a realization. I was looking at the shows that I wanted to watch: 30 Rock, The Office, Community, Always Sunny, Fringe and Bones. On one night. I would like to point out that I was going to watch all 4 hours in one night, but still, I wanted to watch those 4 hours at some point. Then you could look at the rest of the week. How I Met Your Mother, House, Glee, Dexter etc etc. Too much. I consider these all worthwhile shows, but they just take up too much time.

So, I have an experiment for November. I wanted to come up with a clever play on Ramadan or Lent, but nothing comes to mind. For the month of November, I’m not watching television alone. If I watch one of these shows with someone, that’s fine, I’ll consider it a worthwhile use of time. But I’m not watching them sans company.

So if you, like me, like tv, and you like me and/or my tv, let me know. We can get together and watch something so I don’t have to quit cold turkey. And hopefully I won’t end up like Homer from The Shinning.

Halloweekend

If ever I ask you “Should I throw two parties in one weekend?” you can smack me. Make sure to cite this post when you do so.

Friday was my quasi-annual Halloween Party. This year it was a Werewolf Bar Mitzvah. I’m getting much better at underpreparing parties. In the past I’ve come up with all kinds of gimmicks and additions to parties, which would make each even more unique. However, this really isn’t necessary. It really boils down to this: people want a place, preferably comfortable and convenient, to be with other people. Everything else is icing. So rather than come up with an intricate playlist of Halloween songs, you just grab the Top 40 (minus Miley Cyrus) with some old favorites and occasional indies thrown in. Don’t buy a feast, just some donuts, grapes and punch. Don’t spend more than an hour in decorations. And it will all work out.

And it all worked out. We had 40-50 people crammed in the house. We had some great costume debuts. We had some visits from old friends and met some new people. And we had only minor property damage. Success.

Party Dos was the Spook Alley I’ve been “preparing” for the last couple months. Although there are a couple dozen things I’d do differently if I were putting it together again, it came together well. I daresay it was the best Spook Alley possible given the conditions. According to my new laissez faire attitude, I let my improvisation skills do a lot of the work for me. It took a lot of work getting materials together so I could improvise, but it turned out well. I had a good time picking out music, lighting, decorations, gags, and costumes. Unfortunately my camera is currently out of commission, so I have pictures from neither event. Sorry.

It was fun, but it was very busy. Combined with being sick and pretending to be a resident, it made for a hectic weekend. Thankfully I can’t be expected to do it again for another year, and no one in my new home will expect me to do it anyway.

Still Gaga for Gaga

The Ranteumptom experienced its 2nd most popular day ever yesterday. 72 visits. Yes, I'm both nerdy and egotistical enough to keep track of these things. I thought perhaps everyone was visiting to read about my fast food experiences (the guy ordered extra grease, I'm not sure why people don't believe me) but in fact they were looking up Lady Gaga pictures. There are going to be a lot of Gagas this Halloween.

Fast Food Follies

Like most everyone that has access to fast food, I eat too much fast food. It’s just so fast. And so . . . food. But because I spend too much time in fast food lines, I get to see some amusing interactions. Which really, is the exact opposite what fast food is about. The drive-through is there so we can have as little interaction with people as possible. I digress. Some drive-through anecdotes:

1. I have supersonic hearing, so can hear what the people in front and behind of me order. The other day the guy ahead of me ordered three cheeseburgers, hold the ketchup and mustard, with extra grease. HE ORDERED EXTRA GREASE. At least get extra grease on just one of your burgers fella, not all three.

2. I pulled up to the window and the worker started to laugh at me. Huh? I was wearing some bulky sunglasses, but I didn’t really think they were that entertaining. I didn’t give him a tip. Because normally I tip my fast food attendant.

3. I pulled up to the window another time and thought to myself, “Self, the girl at the window is too hot to be working at Wendys.” I then had to question myself, exactly what kind of prejudice was I experiencing? Where does someone that’s too hot to work at Wendys work? I didn’t give her a tip either. That tip thing before was a lie.

4. Another time there was more of a line, so after I got my change I couldn’t drive ahead to the other window. So the cashier guy asks me if I have a girlfriend. Small talk? I came here for a Whopper dude, not to talk about my dating life. And dating? What about the weather, or the new Angry Whopper, or Afghanistan? I tell him I don’t and he starts to tell me about his girlfriend. I was in the middle of a story when I was able to pull ahead, so I had to interrupt him. I didn’t feel too bad about it.

5. One time I got my change, then drove away without my food. It’s on my list of stupidest things I’ve ever done. Also on the list, leaving behind my $40 at the grocery store, and trying to unlock the door to my house with my electronic car door opener.

This post made me want a Junior Bacon Cheeseburger.

Girls Will Be Girls

To continue this week’s theme of sounding bitter (but not actually being so), I experienced the triple flakeout this week. None of the flakeouts were particularly heinous, it was simply their proximity that made them noteworthy. And after the first couple it become almost a self-fulfilling prophecy, where I was looking for the next injustice to occur. I also think it’s likely that males flakeout in roughly the same frequency, I just don’t care when they do so don’t note it. In any case, the flakeout marathon:

Thursday – I’m supposed to go shopping for Halloween supplies with Girl Uno. On the way to the store I thought I’d confirm the time/place of our rendezvous, which had previously been established. “That was tonight?” was her response. Yes. “I can’t tonight.” So instead I bought a strobelight on my own. Hopefully it will never flake on me.

Friday – I’m actually with Girl Uno, doing the previously night’s shopping. Girl Dos sends me a text thirty minutes before we’re supposed to meet up for some ice cream exploration. She’s not going to make it. Does she have a legitimate excuse? Yes. It wasn’t “I remembered you were boring, so don’t want to eat delicious frozen desserts in your presence.” But it was still bailing at the last minute. Fortunately I had my strobelight at home to keep me company.

Saturday – Admittedly, this is a bit of a stretch. I needed to find a taker for my roommate’s football ticket. Girl Tres said earlier in the week that she wanted it. Saturday morning she decides that she no longer wants it. So I had to go to the game. I HAD TO GO TO THE GAME! Tragedy.

I’m not mad at any of these girls. They were all minor obligations, with feasible excuses and easy remedies. But the stereotype that girls are fickle and unreliable creatures? Not exactly crumbling.

Side story – my first OSU football game.

I noted during the game that I must be missing the football gene. I just don’t understand the appeal of the game. But I knew this ahead of time. I went for the experience, not for the football. The experience fared decently, but didn’t excel. My favorite part was drunk fans yelling obscenities, which is sadly lacking from watching football at home. At least at my home, but mostly because I don’t care about the outcome enough to yell (or realistically to watch in the first place.) The stadium was neat, the fans were a bit entertaining, the band was ok (they only played Motown, which is far from my favorite genre), and for some reason they kept playing White Stripes. I’m guessing that Jack White isn't the world’s biggest football fan. So, it was a worthwhile experience so I can say I went. But really I would’ve had just as much fun sitting anywhere else with a couple friends, without a football game in front of us. Oh, and the Buckeye’s won. Go Bucks. That’s what you’re supposed to say right?

The time of the week when I make gender dynamics observations

Also the time of the week when it’s going to sound like I’m being whiny, bitter and chauvinistic, but in reality I’m trying to make some sociological observations.

1. Hot girls like boring guys. Now 90-some percent of my friends are married, and I’m not saying that all the males are boring. Fun guys do get married on occasion. But I’ve just observed a lot of hot+boring couples lately. And it baffles me. And it’s not that I’m particularly jealous of these particular couplings; just baffled. Because I often see the hot girl choose hot boring guy over hot fun guy. Again, I’m not hot fun guy. I’m not even in the equation, just observing. Sometimes I even see hot girl choose plain boring guy over hot fun guy. Obviously, people aren’t entirely superficial beings mating simply on aesthetics, and I’m not suggesting they start. I’m just not sure why boring (also a very subjective term, in this case judged by me) is so popular with the ladies. Oh the cross we interesting people bear.

2. Girls shouldn’t call other girls hottie. When a girl describes her friend as a hottie, it’s a lie. There’s nothing wrong with describing friends, or with talking up friends, or with objectively stating your friend is attractive, I’ve just never found a girl describing another girl as hottie to be accurate. It may be that girls don’t know the definition of hottie. And it's not that guys are demanding hotties. They're requesting, politely, accuracy. All babies aren't cute and all your friends aren't hotties.

3. Girls carry courtship expectations into platonic relationships. Maybe things aren’t exactly like they used to be, but generally speaking guys are still the inviters and providers in dating. Generally speaking, they initiate contact, make the invitation, plan and pay. I’m not debating the system, its benefits or breakdown. However, I’ve noticed that a great many girls expect the same arrangement to carry into platonic relationships, and I don’t think it should. The paying is split, but guys tend to do a lot more of the inviting and planning in friendships. Why? If they’re not going to get the benefits of dating, shouldn’t the effort be more 50/50 in friendship? And notably, some girls are great about making things happen and calling their guy friends, but it seems that most aren’t.

Again, I’m sure these came across as negative, shallow, and potentially anti-girl. I am in fact pro-girl, as my voting record will indicate. If you like boring guys, go for it. Thankfully some people at least find me boring. If hottie seems like the best description, go ahead and use it. Just know that your overuse has rendered the term meaningless. And if your platonic relationships are running smoothly, you should probably keep up your MO. Just know that some guys, potentially including myself, may feel a bit drained.

Until next week.

The Hini

It had to happen eventually. I got a swine flu patient. Now, were I on a medical unit this would be less problematic. But being on the psych unit out patients are always up and around and “in milieu” in psych speak. Which complicates things. And she was coughing on me all day, which complicates things. Thankfully I have managed to maintain my teenage invincibility, so have nothing to worry about.

By the way, I’m back on the psych ward. I really haven’t talked about work these last few months, because I’ve been doing stuff I don’t like. And despite the fact that I made this blog to rant, I prefer not to discuss work when I don’t enjoy it. It already takes up 12 or so hours a day, why let it occupy more by writing about it. But now I’m back on the psych ward, and life is good.

For the first two weeks my attending was on vacation. This was great, because it means sometime in the next ten years I too may be able to go to Italy for two weeks. Unfortunately since there was no attending, they didn’t bother to assign a resident. Which means I got promoted to resident, which was somewhat inconvenient, but somewhat fun. I got to order med students around and do other resident-type things. But the ordering med students around was really the only concrete benefit.

So in summary, I may have the swine flu, but I get to be bossy so it all equals out.

Stupidity Tax

I use my grocery store as my bank. Unfortunately, that means the groceries sometimes distract me from my money. Like today, when I left my $40 at the dispenser. I realized my mistake at my car, but alas, upon my return it was gone. I was taxed.

Forty dollars. I must replace it. But with no income, it's problematic. I can skip eight movies. Six lunches. Four CDs. Three dinners. One date. Almost certainly one date. Way to keep me single stupidity.

Head for Cover

Covers, in my opinion, are a glorious thing. Whether a band is sampling, mashing up, or covering, there’s a good chance I’m going to enjoy it. Sure, Miley Cyrus singing Backstreet Boys isn’t going to do anything for me, nor is Nickelback singing anything, but doing a cover is automatically going to increase the chances for a pleasing performance, for me at least.

Some people get upset at covers. I was playing a song which sampled The Cure recently and my passenger’s response was “They’re ruining it.” Typical Cure fan. They’re not ruining it. They’re reimagining it. They’re taking something existing, and generally favorably accepted, and twisting it into something new. And while I have a slight issue with bands that do nothing but covers (I’m looking at you Me First) I think doing them as part of your act is great.

And generally, the stranger the better. Sure, David Bowie’s cover of China Girl is good, but he’s covering Iggy Pop. It’s like imitating your twin. It’s much more fun when Johnny Cash covers Nine Inch Nails or Placebo covers Kate Bush. Mix it up and show us something new.

Sometimes the results are just amusing, but sometimes the cover surpasses the original. Who doesn’t like Save Ferris’s Come on Eileen better than Dexy’s? It’s only embarrassing when you don’t realize it’s a cover. I was at a concert where they started playing 99 Luft Balloons and a kid yells “Yeah Goldfinger!” Admittedly, the Goldfinger version is great, but I still wanted to smack the kid. But it happens to the best of us; I just found out Nothing Compares to U is a Prince song. My bad. (And yes, I just referred to myself as the best of us.)

Anyway, the point of this post was to show this clip:


Glee is a dang fun show. I had a bit of a heterosexual crisis last week watching this episode. I was thinking about how much I enjoyed this show, then Kristin Chenoweth showed up and I liked it even more. And then they started singing Queen and I liked it even more. And I then realized I needed a girlfriend. Point being, take one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite bands, have a glee club (which incidentally is not my favorite musical subgenre) cover it and the result is fantastic.

Consumer Reporting

The Whatchamacallit holds a special place in my heart. It’s not the prototypic candybar. That belongs to Snickers.

Fast Snickers Facts!
-Were called Marathon Bars in the UK until 1990. When they switched from Marathon to Snickers they went from the #9 candybar to the #3.
-You can purchased caffeinated Snickers.
-A Limited Edition in Canada contained Maple.

Whatchamacallit isn’t my favorite candybar. That belongs to Twix.

Fast Twix Facts!
-Was called The Raider internationally until the 90s. I wish it still were.
-Special flavors have included Orange, Mint, White Chocolate and Coffee.
-Limited Editions have included circular and square Twix bars.

So, back to Whatchamacallit. Whereas Twix and Snickers and so many other candybars existed before I did, the Whatchamacallit is the first candybar I remember being introduced.

Turns out, that’s a lie. It was introduced in 1978. My memories lie to me. It’s sad.

But in 1987, the year that I thought they came out, they changed the formula of the Whatchamacallit, and gave it a new advertising campaign. Maybe you remember this bit of trippy goodness.


The commercial worked, and I insisted we go to 7-11 and try one. Because at the time, 7-11 was my favorite restaurant. Yes, restaurant. In some ways I was a clever little kid, but in many others it’s remarkable that I survived.

Despite what this entry might lead you to believe, I haven’t thought much about Whatchamacallit’s over the years. Until they did this :


So I rushed to 7-11 and tried one. So now, the great Whatchamacallit v Thingamajig Taste Off!



Whatchamacallit wins. Sorry if that’s anticlimactic. It just tasted better. But I’d love it if they just kept spinning off new Doodads, Doohickeys and Gizmos.

How could this happen?

Rotten Tomatoes recently released their worst 100 movies of the last decade.

I've only seen one of the movies.

How could this happen? I tried folks, I really did. When a trailer comes out and the film looks truly awful, I always turn to my neighbor and say "Opening Night." Admittedly, I rarely follow through, but 1/100? I'm ashamed.

Of course you want to know. The answer is Corky Romano. And I have to tell you, it wasn't that bad of a movie. A bad movie certainly, but not a horrible movie. Okay, it was horrible. But not horrible horrible. Not enjoyably horrible. And I guess that's why it got on the list.

The time of the week when I rank things . . . poorly

I’m feeling too lazy to rank things today, so instead I’m going to cluster them. So in no particular order:

British shows I Love
1. Monty Python’s Flying Circus – the best example of smart people acting silly.
2. The Mighty Boosh – the ridiculous plots and musical numbers are fun, but my favorite thing is just listening to Howard and Vince banter.
3. The IT Crowd – fantastic cast (many from Mighty Boosh).
4. Coupling – the dirty(er) friends. Only much funnier.
5. Green Wing – the dirty(er) Scrubs. Admittedly, not quite as funny. But still, pretty hilarious.
6. Blackadder – I thought Rowan WAS Mr. Bean until I saw this. With the fantastic meanness that spews forth from his mouth, it’s a shame to keep him quiet.
7. The Office – I like the American office, but it just can’t compete with the humor and, dare I say, art of the British version.
8. Skins – I’m not much for soap operas, but this one is the perfect balance of angst and humor.
9. Doctor Who – my current go-to show. It’s good times all around.
10. Torchwood – Season 1 wouldn’t qualify as a show I love, but Season 2 has been much better. And I hear Season 3 is absolutely fabulous. (Which is another British show, if it sounded odd.)

British shows I Like
1. Mr. Bean - It’s really amazing how much I can like a comedy that removes my favorite part of comedy, the dialogue.
2. Wallace and Gromit – not a show exactly, but there’s enough of them that I’ll count it as a series.
3. My Hero – It’s basically Superman crossed with Amelia Bedelia, but that Ardal O’Hanlon is just likable enough to make it work.
4. Whose Line is it Anyway? – Yes the American version was lackluster. But the British one never disappoints.
5. Spaced – I was hoping to love it, but only liked it. Oh well.
6. Extras – This might have made the Love It category if I’d seen more episodes.
7. Jeeves and Wooster – more amusing than funny, but pretty amusing.
8. The Thin Blue Line – Blackadder light.
9. Absolutely Fabulous – Comedy Central didn’t provide a lot of British comedy in my youth, but I enjoyed this one. Mean people are funny.
10. The Young Ones – I can remember practically nothing about this show, apart from liking it. I think it’s what I watched waiting for Space Ghost to come on.

British Shows I May Love, But Haven’t Seen Yet, So You Should Let Me Borrow Them If You Have Them
1. Fawlty Towers – I know, blasphemy against the great John Cleese. I’ll get around to it one day.
2. A Bit of Fry and Laurie – I love Stephen Fry and I love Hugh Laurie, so this should be a homerun.
3. The Thick of It – In the Loop was hilarious, and I hope this will deliver as well.
4. Life on Mars – I actually have it, and will get around to it eventually. I purposefully skipped the US version so I’d get it undiluted.
5. Black Books – I have almost no background on this one, I just heard it was good.
6. Da Ali G – Cohen has proved himself worthy.
7. The Prisoner – Supposed to be amazing. Hopefully I can withstand the 60sness.
8. The Dead Set – British zombies! Worked for 28 Days Later and Shaun of the Dead.
9. Snuff Box – Mighty Boosh alumni, so worth a viewing.
10. Father Ted – It’s got Ardal O’Hanlon, so again, worth a viewing.

Thanks BBC!

Fail

I was talking to a friend the other day and she asked what I’m up to these days.

Growing a beard.

That’s about it. While I’ve been growing my beard, as a hobby, I’ve been studying for Step 2. Which I’ll be taking exactly a week from now. Accordingly, I’ll be on blog hiatus until then.

For those of you in suspense: my beard failed. I gave it my best shot, but I couldn’t will the moustache to meet the beard. That single centimeter, between me and success. Here’s hoping Step 2 goes better.

See you on the other side.