July 26, 2005

The euphemism aisle

There is one aisle at any supermarket which I refer to as the "Euphemism aisle." It has to do with the one aspect of modern life which is probably the most euphemized of all: I'm talking about feminine hygiene (See! Even there I used a euphemism!). You know the sign at the top of the aisle? Well, I'm pretty sure it used to say "Tampons." Then, it was switched to "Feminine hygiene." Now, it has the totally impenetrable "Personal needs." I'm hereby predicting, within two years, this sign will be replaced with one reading, "Ahhh... you know." I wonder how this trend extrapolates backwards? Was it something less euphemistic than tampons? Maybe right before that it said "Menstrual hygiene." And before that, "Cooter plugs." Okay, maybe not.

Posted by mill1991 at 2:33 PM

July 25, 2005

You mean they can make more chips?

Doritos used to have the motto "Crunch all you want; we'll make more." What was the marketing strategem behind this? Apparently Doritos was in possession of research that said that many people thought Doritos were a non-renewable resource that had to be mined at the expense of the Earth's long term viability. Then maybe there were some other people that knew that Doritos were manufactured, but were under the impression that the people who make them had a strict upper limit on how many they would create. After that, they're like, "Shit, I am so fucking tired of making Doritos. I'm not making any more." Nice work, Doritos, you've cleared up those two misconceptions nicely.
Posted by mill1991 at 1:07 PM

July 17, 2005

Funny video

I found this music video to be pretty funny. About 30 seconds in, you might think, "He can never keep this up for 3 minutes." And indeed, he can't, but it's still worth it to watch it all the way through.

Go to: Mates of State media page and download G.J. Echternkamp Dance Video "Goods (All in your head)".

Posted by mill1991 at 11:45 AM

July 13, 2005

Choosing a career is difficult

Choosing a career can be very difficult. If you think you have to choose when you're in high school, then you're making a decision that will affect (at least) the next 4 years of your life. I don't know about you, but if old photographs are any indication, at 18 I wasn't qualified to pick out my own clothing. Then you have to take into account mental maturity. I've been outside my mother's vagina for about 10 years longer than your average 8th grader, yet odds are we're at the same stage in mustache development. Might mental development and maturity be as variable as facial hair onset? If so, we're wrong to pigeonhole people into careers too early into their lives. This may be the root cause of my selection of "Superhero" as my career choice in my senior survey.

Another dimension in this issue is career change. Many people now are switching careers after working for years in fields in which they earned degrees. My mother, for instance, switched careers from what I seem to remember as middle management to education, teaching ESL. What if, in, say 30 years, I'm sick of my work as professor in a computer science department, doing research on sexy robots? Could I switch careers to robot porn film director (whether all those jobs have been taken by robots is an issue for another post altogether)? It's not quite the same. See, to switch to a teacher, as my mother did, you just have to be willing to work for almost nothing. There's not as much demand for those jobs, since you could technically make as much by professionally pan-handling. Sure, teachers get better health insurance, but pan-handlers don't have to pay income taxes.

Posted by mill1991 at 10:18 PM

July 6, 2005

A tale from my past

When I was young, my family was so poor that we could not even afford a camera to take family pictures. So, once a year, we would get all dressed up and stand in front of a mirror, and my dad would say, "Just try to remember it."
Posted by mill1991 at 8:42 PM

July 5, 2005

Rumblings from the 4th

This past weekend we made use of the hallowed Sausage Fest grounds and Peninsula State Park in order to celebrate our nation's independence the way the founding fathers intended: by overindulging in malternatives and playing testes toss. And no, that phrase does not describe a deviant homosexual act, it is a park game.

Here are some of the things I remember:

After I wrapped a towel around my waist to stay warm at night:
Linz: It looks like you're wearing a sarong.
Me: How could it be a sarong when it feels so right?

Me: Mormon feminist housewives? That has to be like 3 people!
#1 Dad: And they're all married to the same guy!

Someone: I wonder what Hines is up to right now?
Joynt: He's probably playing testes toss too.

During the first night, Jared and I decided it would be better to find wood in the forest rather than use the wood Joynt had brought up. So we embarked with our axe into the dark depths of the wooded peninsula. Shortly we found a smallish (yet tall enough) dead tree that would probably be sufficient for a whole weekend of firewood. We made quick work of it, and through the large end into the fire. We quickly spotted another, much thicker, dead tree, and decided to fell this one as well. The decision was mainly based on a desire to swing the axe some more. Post hoc analysis said that it was a good idea because clearing dead trees opens up light for smaller trees, and something about getting it ready for when we'll actually need it at Sausage Fest XV.

This one took quite a bit longer, but we got it down. Yet our insatiable apetite for destruction lingered on. This time, we found another tree, a white birch. In case you're not as much of a woodsman as I am, white birch is like the oily rag of the tree family, due to it's paper like bark. Using this justification, we decided to fell another beast of a tree.

For this last tree, we were starting to draw attention from our other camping friends, who were wondering a) why we were still chopping down trees despite the fire produced by our first felled tree, which was big and hot enough that local blacksmiths started using it to make horseshoes, and b) how we had gone as long as we had chopping down trees with a dull axe while intoxicated without killing ourselves. So, first all the guys came into the woods, and we all took turns on the biggest dead tree we could find. By this point, mine and Jared's hands were basically covered in bloody blisters from the wooden axe handle, so it was good to get some relief. A few minutes later, the girls joined us, and they all took some real solid swings at the tree, which did all the real weakening of the tree for when Jared later finished the job. Oh yeah, it was like pitch black out by this point, and we were chopping by flashlights. If someone were making the "don'ts" section for a camping safety instructional video, they could've just filmed our weekend. Anyways, it was so much fun, I'm thinking of starting my own Lumberjack Club, like Fight Club without as much blood.

During the days we went to Peninsula Park and played beach volleyball. While there, a 40-something guy named Grayson would ride up on his bike each day and just sit and stretch by the volleyball court until someone asked him to play. This is frustrating enough, because why wouldn't you just ask if you could play? But then once he got in, the real frustration began. After every. single. play. he would offer a "tip," or encouragement, or just mutter something incoherent. Everytime I mishit the ball (which is quite often), he would say "well you got it up in the air," as if I appeared so retarded he might expect me just to spike the ball into the ground directly beneath me. Then, after the game, he said, "Well, I've gotta go chop some firewood." He said this both days, once at around 2 in the afternoon. This is another annoying thing to me, when people feel like they have to make some dumb excuse to leave. I've always thought it would be cool to have (or be!) a friend, who, when he wanted to leave, just said "I'm gonna go," and just sprinted out the door, never giving any explanation.

Posted by mill1991 at 4:36 PM