Daily Archives: July 5, 2011

9 posts

The New York Times Would Like You To Know That Things Get Stolen, Bozo

Each day, we open up our digital copy of the New York Times and mock it (and ourselves) for its insanity. Today we learn that parents everywhere are idiots, not just those in Park Slope. But especially those in Park Slope.

Oh, please pity me! I left my stroller unlocked outside my apartment because I was too lazy to collapse it and carry it up the stairs and now it’s been stolen! Poor me! Never mind that I have such a laissez-faire attitude towards my possessions that I leave a $400-to-$1000 item outside with no protection. No, that’s not going to be stolen at all. Not in Brooklyn! I mean, I live on a busy street! This kind of thing just doesn’t happen to people like me!
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Creepy Things Dudes Have Said While Hitting On Me

This is America, 2011. We have our first mixed-race president. There are actual commercials now which feature interracial couples. But people are still really stupid when it comes to race relations, particularly the kind of relations where you are trying to get into someone else’s pants.

Since I live in an extremely diverse neighborhood, in an extremely diverse city, and am pretty ambiguously ethnic, as well as being totally hot (and modest!), I’ve had my fair share of amazingly creepy, and sometimes just slightly racist pick-up lines thrown at me. I’m sure some of the more attractive of you have experienced the same. So let’s break a few of the more common lines down and analyze them. Continue reading

What is Your Stuff Really Worth?

The bargain of a lifetime, I'm sure.

Bots has kindly invited me to cross post articles from my blog, daisysagesays.wordpress.com .  Please drop by when you have a moment, and for sophisticated advice, write to [email protected].  All letters will be treated with the uttermost sensitivity and anonymity.

“Have you noticed that their stuff is shit, and your shit is stuff?” – George Carlin

This is yet another article inspired by random things my neighbors happen to leave outside their homes.

I took this photo the other day while on a stroll in my general environs. Here are the thoughts I had upon viewing this item, in the order that they occurred. Continue reading

Casey Anthony Not Guilty

A stunned court room listened to the jury read not guilty verdicts for all counts except making false statements to law enforcement.

Tot Mom will remain in jail until sentencing on Thursday at 9AM Eastern.  She has been in jail for 3 years and there is a good chance that will suffice as a sentence for the false statements.

The Ten Commandments of Internet Commenting

Like Moses coming down from Mount Sinai, I interrupt your Golden Calf internet orgy to present to you the Ten Commandments of Internet Commenting.  I bring them down from an angry internet God who has judged you and found you wanting.

Much like the other God, they are presented without comment or explanation.  Because, honestly, they should be self explanatory.  But you can spend the next 2000-3000 years discussing and misinterpreting and generally believing they don’t apply to you.

 

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Where Are We Going, and What’s with the Handbasket?

Those of us on the American coasts may be familiar with a website network called Patch. Basically it’s a blog covering extremely local news.  It’s a great way to stay current on local events, politics and shopping.  My local version is Long Beach, NY.  Since our local paper is owned by the local cable network, it’s refreshing to get a different perspective on things.

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Tuesday Morning Headlines

Let me tell you what horror is.  Horror is me sitting at my desk, hands posed over the keyboard, looking at five minutes of blank copy. I got nuttin’ because it’s a holiday weekend. This why all us alleged news types go postal over the fucking hot dog eating contest and start babbling on about what’s happening with Fox’s Twitter feed (hello! Free PR for the competition!) or stupid medical studies we’ve stockpiled for these news emergencies or whatever. Because I got nothing but hot dogs and fireworks.  Nothing.

Still, I search.   I search for you.

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