A Very Philosphical Voicemail I Got The Other Day

Do you exist, Vanessa?

If Vanessa does exist, she gave this guy the wrong number. And probably for good reason. Not a lot of good guys in Mamaroneck, NY.

A Series of Job Interview Questions That Don't Make It Clear Whether You're Interviewing for Jordache or Doordash

Let's say you're at a job interview and you somehow forget which company you were there to interview for– Jordache Jeans or Doordash. Here now are some questions the recruiter would ask you that would NOT help you figure that out:

"Are you willing to do the necessary legwork?"

"What kind of manager are you? Do you have drive? And can you seize the reins of a project?"

"Do you like helping serve customers, finding the right fit for them?"

"We're like a family here. Do you think you could get along?"

"You must have plenty of enthusiasm at this job. Bursting at the seams, in fact!"

"Our brand is well known. But we're all about growth."

"Meet our project managers– Jean and Tugo."

"When can you start? Can you hit the ground running?"

"We do have casual Fridays, although that won't matter because it's all remote now!"

The ProofrEADJer: End O' November Edition

"Mulitimode?"

This Week In Hip Hop Awfulness

See what happens when you compliment DDG on his "cute outfit"?

She looks bored but good. Keep as is.

There's baked, and then there's papier-mâché baked.

Leave that mask on, Don. Maybe it'll give your eyelids a chance to catch up to the tan on the rest of your face.

BUT WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!!

The album cover for "I Feel Like Dirt". Gee, I wonder what their second thought idea was.

Ain't no shame in a pizza delivery job. Spider-Man did it.

Iggy Azalea would like you to think she's some kind of Disney Princess. Which is sort of accurate when it comes to cultural appropriation.

Crime, conspicuous consumption and pride. But do rappers really want to associate themselves with the president's resort?

The ProofrEADJer: Midsummer Night's Edition

Spotted On a "Learn Sign Language" Box Label

Now I'm not an animal behavior expert, but I'm pretty sure -based on that cat's body language- that it's either going to dart out of there or scratch that girl's eyes out in self defense.

Space Heater Expressions

The Holmes Y-78 felt pretty good about the weather getting colder.

The Emerson Duo-5 wasn't sure he was ready.

The Holmes Ceramic Oscillating Heater was all, "Come on guys! Let's do this!"

His brother, the Holmes Humidifer, was reluctant, however.

And so was the Holmes Cool Mist Humidifier.

The Hoomes Calefactor didn't take sides and was just chiiiiilll about everything.

The GE Housetech 8 was just THRILLED to be working again!

The McDougal 77V-45 wanted to kill something.

"Noooo!" urged the Matrosy Ambient Room Heater.

"YOU GUYS IS ALL CRAZY!" laughed the Peterman Elite Room Heater.

A List Of Activities You Can Do With Certified Therapy Dog Rhett And How Much It Would Cost

I spotted this sign in Manhattan last week, advertising the rental out an unknown breed of dog named Rhett (is that an Airedale?). For a buck a minute, Rhett's pimps are willing to let you take Rhett (could be a Scottish Deerhound?) out and do whatever, provided it's for your therapy. He's "always looking for new friends," so what are you waiting for? Here now is a list of suggested activities you can do with Rhett (he's an Irish Wolfhound, isn't he?) and how much it will cost:

• Take Rhett from 25th Street to Central Park for a nice walk and a poop: $82

• Watch the entire "Lord Of The Rings" Trilogy, extended edition with Rhett: $682

• Bowl an entire game by yourself while Rhett sniffs his balls: $14

• Have sex with release while Rhett watches from another room: $3

• Fly with Rhett to Tel Aviv, Israel from JFK and back: $1200 (not including airfare)

• Drive Rhett around while cranking Iron Maiden's third studio album, "The Number of The Beast:" $41

• Encourage Rhett to go with you to your Zumba class, even though he doesn't seem to express any interest: $60

• Hassle Rhett about his 'Certified Dog' credentials: $7

• Cook an entire timpano, complete with meatballs, salami and filling and with homemade crust, while Rhett nervously licks his hungry dog lips: $80

• Take Rhett to watch the Houston Astros totally suck dick for a full nine innings: $180

• Give away the twist to "Looper" to Rhett: $1

• Read "The Brothers Karamazov" to Rhett in a pidgin accent while he licks his balls again: $86,400

• Read this blog entry to him and see if he "gets" it: $4


You can literally rent Rhett here.

UAG

Walgreen's: Third Act

As documented earlier this month on the blog, a certain photo of a young man with wet hair at a local Walgreen's had prompted us to leave our own version at that store:


Here now is a follow up video that answers the question of whether the EADJ photo has stayed up there since February 7 (audio courtesy of Skywalker Sound).


Blast! It's gone! Okay, move on to phase three of whatever project this is!

An Important Message From Delight

Hi boys.

Now, because of the recent crisis in Haiti, there are a lot of B- and C-list celebrities like Heidi Montag and that Tila Tequila chick who are jumping on the bandwagon and urging people to give generously to the Red Cross or whatever. I'm here to tell you that although, yes, these are useless, parasitic famewhores using this terrible tragedy to call even more undeserved attention to themselves, at least they are pointing some people in the right direction.

You can donate to Haiti relief to:
• The Red Cross
• Doctors Without Borders
• Hope For Haiti

Thank you all for your time. Now, has anyone seen my spangled thong? It was pink and it smelled like Lysol.

An 80's Staple (An Aborted Rant)

You've heard the songs a hundred times. And as time goes by, they've become more novel or nostalgic. Maybe enough time has passed since they were first played to get more perspective on the songs, but I've just noticed something about a lot of 80's music: Their frequent use of saxophone solos is cheesy and HILARIOUS.

A quick list of sax solo action:

"Urgent" by Foreigner
"Caribbean Queen" by Billy Ocean
"Who Can It Be Now?" by Men At Work
"Love Theme from St. Elmo's Fire" by David Foster

***Editor Update***

Uh...this hasn't happened before, but apparently another blog has already covered this entire subject. Crap. Check out the excellent and thorough blog here.

So...um...ha ha. I was going to go on about not just the use of saxophone in solos, but in the general structure of the songs, too: Wham's "Careless Whisper," Glenn Frey's "The Heat Is On," etc. Then I was going to do a fake transcript of Foreigner writing "Urgent." Hm, yeah...

Hey, what's with the drive-thru at McDonald's? What is the deal with that?!

Huh? What's that, Pewter Bear?


Thanks, Pewter Bear. Your unsolicited kind words bring welcome comfort in my time of need. Thank you, Pewter Bear. Thank you so much. It's really appreciated.


Yeah. Go fuck yourself.

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger, Shorter, Fatter

It has been a while since an update, but The Shorter Fatter Version of Scott Peterson has once again been spotted. This ends weeks of debate over whether the SFVOSP had found another job, died, or never even existed.

Andrew encountered the illusive organism earlier this morning. Here is his account:

As I sauntered in around 9:30 this morning, I spotted the SFVSOP in his typical summer outfit: a long green button up shirt with a plaid pattern and his trademark baggy Tommy Hilfiger jeans. He also was wearing something that struck me as curious: socks with sandals. The question of why comes to mind. He was carrying some sort of breakfast meal (looked greasy) and a bottle of orange juice. As we entered the elevator, he was captivated by the Captivate screen. He commented to a colleague about the Pat Tillman incident. His undertone led me to believe he is a liberal SFVSOP. His voice is extremely high. Higher than Joel’s, even. Yet another piece of steadily mounting evidence that he’s a little “you know.” He departed on the usual 22nd floor and I headed on my way.

For breaking the dry spell, Andrew earns the coveted Gold Mollusk Award, only the second ever to be given out (the first recipient was Ryan Boblett. Remember him?)

(pictured above, Mr. Wood, No. 2 by Andrew Gall. Ink on Paper. From his private collection.)