Introducing "Bottom of the Barrel" Fridays

It's a blogging truth universally acknowledged, that when you have nothing of value to say, you can always post pictures of baby animals.


Another good blogging trick is to say disparaging things about cute animals, or just link to those who do: http://fuckyoupenguin.blogspot.com/

Immature Poets prefer veggies with cool names

This story is about how naming vegetables cool things increases how many kids will eat them.

Kids won't eat their vegetables? Rename them, scientists say.

In a new study, 186 four-year-olds were given regular carrots and, on other lunch days, they were given the same vegetables renamed X-ray Vision Carrots. On the latter days, they ate nearly twice as many.

The study suggests the influence of these names might persist.

To sum, scientists say if you want your kids to eat veggies... lie to them. Recipe for success. I'd suggest getting them to blog about it, but it may have been done already.

An Average Day in My Life If I Were Someone Completely Different

6:15 Wake up to text message from my manic depressive girlfriend Pinky. Pinky owns a combination dog/human hair salon designed for people who want to look more like their pets. She's also quite a looker.7:01 Dressed (in track suit) and out the door to meet Pinky for quick breakfast at The Hot Bisquit.

7:18 Got in small to medium size fight with Pinky about whether or not I value my origami tournaments more than my time with her.

8:30 Escape the Hot Bisquit leaving Pinky to sulk and possibly key my Moped.

9:04 Arrive at my job at the Salmon Farm.

9:30-12:00 Feed fish and shit.

12:17 Receive frantic call from landlord. Someone is setting my apartment on fire. Landlord is concerned.

12:18 Mourn the loss of my origami trophies, all sadly flammable. Consider leaving work. Decide against leaving work--after all, the firemen are very capable, and someone needs to cull the salmon.

2:00 Can't enjoy my peanut butter and banana sandwich out of worry for my worldly possessions. Contemplate man's obsession with material things

5:00 Get off work and receive a call from Pinky apologizing for burning down my building. I accept her apology but tell her "I can't really be around you right now." I grab dinner at the Olive Garden.

5:18 Overhear Olive Garden employees making fun of my Moped's custom paint job.

6:00 Attend a lecture on the use of stone tools by Cromagnum man.

7:30 At temporary housing in the Motel 8 watching Police Academy 4.

8:15 Receive second apology call from Pinky. I agree we both said and did some things we didn't mean. We make plans for meet for breakfast on the following day before work. She apparently had a productive day at the salon and promises to treat me to a fun story about a man and a Shitzu. I already know it's going to be great.

10:00 Take a shower and get ready for bed. Say prayers, thank God to be alive, and make daily promise to eat less carbs.

I mean, come on.

Dear professors teaching new media classes,

Please learn how to use a computer before attempting to teach. I know you're technological prowess extends mainly to microwaving popcorn... but come on. You are journalism professors. You know why you are a professor and not a journalist. Failure to master the internet.

Thank you for making me spend an hour fixing your computer.

Sincerely,

Immature Poet

Not Even a Little Bit Interesting

You really shouldn't be reading this. You should be outside enjoying this beautiful day. You should be out carpe-ing some diem.

Unless of course you work the average 9-5 daily grind. In which case, you're inside right now because you're getting paid to be inside during the vast majority of the daylight hours . In which case, you're getting paid to be reading these very words, just as I'm getting paid to write them. Or rather paid while writing them--I'm being paid to do something else all together (in the hierarchy of jobs, it's somewhere between toll booth operator and dictator of a small to medium sized country).

Also, even if you AREN'T being paid to be inside right now (and why not, you degenerate bum?) you might also be starting to call my bluff about it even being a nice day. Yesterday, was a lovely day (at least here on the East Coast, and I see no reason why people in other parts of the country/world shouldn't base their moods and activities on our weather patterns) but today is actually a little on the cold and crappy side. So perhaps you shouldn't be outside. And perhaps I shouldn't be either.

You still probably shouldn't be reading this.

Immature dreams

So, last night I had an odd dream. I was dreaming something, I don't remember what, and someone asked me a question. I responded "It was like punching a dragon," and then I had a flashback to me, punching a dragon. Kinda like this:




It was pretty much the best dream ever, I think.

Immature Music

So, last night I volunteered at an art show near the Navy Yard in SE DC. At least I assume its near the Navy Yard, cause that's the metro stop.

It was a joint art show between a few organizations and the apartment complex, which was trying to show how trendy and cool it was to live there. Hipsters galore.

I was bartending in the tent, which was where some artists were painting live, which was pretty neat. The were also experimental musicians performing, which was incredible. This led to three top moments of the night, in no particular order, and not all music related:

1. Two musicians were performing together (one who kept trying to hit on my co-bartender.) There sound bordered between feedback and cats dying. My favorite moment, though, was when one of the members made a slight adjustment on his mixer, and the other person gave him a horrible look of disgust. Like "What the hell did you just do?"

2. Another guy came over to get our free pretzels, and was talking to someone, and just kept missing the bucket, and ended up almost reaching into the trash. My friend and I just stared, and when he realized we were watching it ended up being the most awkward moment of the night for me.

3. The last band to play had some amazing lyrics. The best, I'm sure, were spoken through a french horn, making them completely unintelligible. One guy came over to talk to us while they played, and said "Man, interesting, huh? They sure are unique. What is that? A french horn. Definitely a french horn." before walking away. Other lyrics we could understand were: "Prepared by the court eunuchs! In the catherdraaaaaaaaaal!" and "We make sheep meat for the king!"

It was definitely an interesting night.