Showing posts with label tow cables. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tow cables. Show all posts

Thursday, August 22, 2019

Yet More Unused, Terrible Porn Names


Wanna have a lucrative and long-lasting career in the porn industry? Well, first you're going to need a memorable alias– aka a new porn name. Most of the good ones are taken, but we scrounged up a few that were lying around because they're terrible, but help yourself:

HER:

Alopecia
Crotchtina Vibram
B. Donna Bratt
Amber Crombie & Fist
Jill Dough


HIM:

Helmut Polisher
Halal Kabobs
Hamster Dan
Otto Correct
Kidd Proquo

Monday, August 27, 2012

An Important Message From Cox Cable


Hello, faithful Cox Cable subscribers.

In the past month, you may have noticed that some of the services that we at Cox Cable provide to over 700,000 of our customers have not been to our usual standards. Namely, that many of you do not have TNT on your TVs anymore. This prevents many of you from watching the hit show "Rizzoli & Isles."

The truth of the matter is, Cox Cable Inc. has been in negotiations with TNT with regards to the licensing of the programming, and TNT is frankly being serious dicks about it. This last week marks the eighteenth week that we've gone back and forth in our haggling with TNT over the price per episode that the next year's contract should be.

It is our primary mission to ensure that you Cox Cable subscribers get the most fulfilling experience with your service, but we regret to inform you that "Rizzoli & Isles" will not be part of that experience.

We apologize that among the episodes that you have missed due to these negotiations are Episode 3.3 "This Is How The Heart Breaks," in which Maura and Jane save the life of a man brought into the morgue by performing a tracheotomy; Episode 3.4 "Welcome To The Dollhouse," in which Jane and Maura are on the case of a killer that dresses his victims as 1980's dolls while Korsak finds a dog that turns out to be a dog for soldiers with PTSD; and Episode 3.5 "Throwing Down The Gauntlet," in which Maura's biological mother, Dr. Hope Martin (played by Sharon Lawrence) turns out to be a very successful doctor who help women and children in need.

But them's the breaks since TNT have been serious dicks about negotiations.

"Why the dick should I care about your stupid negotiations?" you might ask us. And you'd be right. Why should you care about some backroom dealings that we're having with TNT, and why are we airing our dirty laundry like some wronged teen girlfriend? And why aren't there any "Rizzoli & Isles" episodes on TV, dammit?!?!?!?

And you'd be right. It is bad corporate practice for us to run vindictive anti-TNT promos when what we should be doing is groveling at the feet of TNT and begging them to give us more quality programming like "Rizzoli & Isles" to our wonderful customers. We should get over ourselves and provide the richest, most COMPLETE lineup you've come to expect from Cox Cable!

Or not. Stay tuned till next week to see if you fuckers get to watch Episode 3.6 "Money Maker," in which Maura sets up a dinner date with Hope and her daughter. As soon as Maura does this she regrets this decision insisting that her home is a mess, and doesn't know what to cook for her. Just as she asks Jane what to do, they are called on the case of a right ear, that is stuck to the house of a Georgette, who is working on selling the house. Just as the garbage truck comes, Jane stops them, to find out that their victim, Neal Murray, is in the trashcan. Maura finds that Neal had erectile dysfunction, and had to inject medicine into the left side of his shaft, she finds that the murderer is right handed because the last injection mark is on the low right side. Later that night at dinner just as Hope and her daughter, Kayleen, arrive Maura finds that the drawing of Hope is still on her wall. During dinner Jane, Maura, Angela, Hope and Kayleen discuss about how moving has been hard on her and how she has to move schools. When dinner is over, Kayleen leaves early wanting to be alone, moments later Hope follows her insisting that she is fragile and needs her mother. The next day, Hope reveals that Kayleen is ill with a bacterial infection, and she is need of a kidney transplant. Later Maura decides that she's going to donate a kidney to Kayleen anonymously, since she believes they're a match. Frost and Jane find out that Neal was running an underground sex party, and that the night Neal was murdered there was a party at that house, and that Georgette is the realtor on all the houses. It is found out that Georgette is a former prostitute. Later, Jane and Maura go into one of the sex parties that Georgette throws, Jane works by taking hairs from the call girls, and Maura examines them to see if they're the one who killed Neal. When Jane goes back to get more hairs, she hears a scream, and finds that Georgette has been murdered and pushed into the pool. At the end it is found out that the wife of the coach murdered Neal and Georgette. At the end of the episode, Kayleen tells Maura that she knows who she is, and she doesn't want her kidney. Hope, who has been frantically looking for Kayleen, walks in and Maura tells her that she is Paddy Doyle's daughter, Hope tells her she doesn't want anything to do with her, walking out and leaving Maura in tears.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Salad Problems.

I go to this place on 42nd St. and 3rd Avenue for salads. It's a good place because they mix it in for you then toss it with whatever dressing you want. But the last few times I've gone over there, the dressing guy has called me "Ma'am." Yeah.


I thought at first that maybe he's calling me "Man," but he's called other men in line "Sir." And I've heard him use "Ma'am" for all the women. So what the fuck, dude? Do I really look like a woman?


After like the third time he called me that, I started speaking really loudly in a manly voice to the ingredients guy (who calls me "Sir") so dressing guy could pick up on it. I'd say things like "I WANT CUCUMBERS, BLUE CHEESE, AND BEAN SPROUTS," in the deepest voice I could muster. And that still didn't work. I still got "Ma'am" from dressing guy.

So I took a photo of myself at that place to see what dressing guy sees. Turns out, I do look like an Asian lesbian in the right light. Or maybe all the time. Or maybe dressing guy thinks I'm a woman because I've been loading up on salads so much, and my choice of ingredients emphasizes my owning a vagina. Whatever.


If you or some dude you know keeps getting mistaken for a lesbian, maybe it's time you took a good look at yourself and changed your haircut or stopped going to lesbian marches with your arm around your girlfriend. Or maybe you could parlay that mistaken identity into a wacky comedy starring Kal Penn and Margaret Cho.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

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.)