Huh. Maybe I AM Ignorant.

So, I’m reading a review of Speed Racer in the local alt-rag, LA Weekly, and it occurs to me I have no fucking clue what the reviewer is talking about.  A lot of made up words, obscure references & excessively showy language to basically say that he didn’t recommend the film.  This paragraph in particular was awesome:

The futuristic, multihued skyscrapers seem a figment of Kenny Scharf’s imagination[I DON'T KNOW WHO THAT IS]; the glazed female leads might be Jeff Koons sculptures [I'VE HEARD OF HIM.  IS HE A SCULPTER?  I DON'T GET THIS REFERENCE.  DOES HE GLAZE HIS SCULPTURES A LOT?] sporting Takashi Murakami [WHO?] accessories. And that’s just the “Sunday Styles” stuff. Once the various gizmobiles accelerate to warp speed on roller-coaster racetracks seemingly conceived by Dr. Seuss [YES!!!!], the screen reconstitutes as a Bridgett Riley vortex [SHE MAKES VORTEXES, I ASSUME] or a mad geometric abstraction of Kenneth Noland [NOPE, SORRY.] racing stripes.

Thanks, J. Hoberman of the L.A. Weekly.  I never knew how little I knew until you came along.  I will say this for you - after diligent analysis, I was able to discern whether you liked the movie or not:

But love, hate or ignore it, The Matrix proposed a social mythology. (Just ask Slavoj Zizek. [SERIOUSLY NOW, WHAT THE FUCK?]) Speed Racer is simply a mishmash that, among other things, intermittently parodies the earlier film’s pretensions.

You go to hell, J. Hoberman.  You go straight to hell.

Advantage: Jonson!

Once upon a time, Jonathan Rouse of Longborough University was the #1 result for all Jonathan Rouses in Google, primarily due to his wide ranging scholarly publications (I’m not joking) in the field of sewage maintenance.  This fact led me to author the following post: Screw You, Jonathan Rouse of Longborough University.  Later, when I seized my birthright & claimed sole ownership of the crown, I was forced to tone down my rhetoric against the Jonathan Rouse of Longborough via the following post: My apologies to Jonathan Rouse of Longborough University.  But as of today it appears that the Googledamage is irrevocably done, as I noticed this most recent comment on my blog, in the original “Screw You” post:

“So, I was trying to get hols [SIC] of my mate Jon Rouse’s email address who used to work in the sewage and compost dept at Loughborough University but all I could find was this blog.  If you have his email address, can you let me know? Ta.”

So, to be clear here, not only did I overtake my British rival, I effectively wiped any trace of him off the internet.  Les Jeux Sont Faites, Bueller!  Translation: THE GAME IS UP.

One last time, fuck the Patriots

So, both teams in the Superbowl get “Superbowl Champion” apparel made for the post game festivities, but obviously only one team gets to wear that apparel.  The NFL has a policy of donating the losing team’s “Championship” outfits to 3rd world counties, which is how I saw this hilarious article.  Whoo-hoo, 19 & 0!!

My website is not a midget dating service

So, as previously mentioned, the jonsonblog Pageranks pretty high on Google for obsure terms, including midget dating.  A recent comment on an 18 month old post of mine on that very topic has led me to assume that someone looking for a midget dating service found this site via Google & is looking high & low (but mostly low) for a little lady.  Ed of Northern California writes:  “Im a man looking for a little person for fun, Im into most things.Im in seaside CA.”

Oh Ed, I’m glad that you’re into most things, but unfortunately you’ve fallen into the same Google trap that my unsuspecting personalized M&M purchasers fell into.  This site you’re on here makes fun of things, it doesn’t actually sell things.  For a site that sells things, you’ll have to wait for the launch of my personalized little person dating & candy covered chocolate site, “mMms.biz” (the middle M is for “Midget!”).

I could not help myself. It is my nature.

I was reminded of the tale of the frog & the scorpion today as I needed to get onto a web forum to look up some information.  My co-worker had already registered for the forum, which he told me was a laborious process.  I asked for his login/pw combo, as I didn’t need to type anything, just look up some info, but the boards were viewing restricted to login only.  He hesitated for the briefest moment, then gave me the info.  The hesitation made me think “what, does he think I’ll post something inappropriate in his name?  Hey wait, that’s a great idea.”  Seconds later, I’m in the General Info section of the forums and the following new post is up:

Who Here Likes Cock?

I can’t get enough of it, personally. Normally I like it in my mouth, but sometimes it’s fun to have it smeared around my face.  Oh well, thanks for sharing!

 Sincerely, Nathan.

Then, I hit Submit, but not before clicking the “email me with any responses to this topic.”  After all, a joke’s not funny if the recipient never finds out.  Twenty minutes later I get the ranting phone call from his extension.  Apparently he was banned from the forum, and he found out about the thread when someone responded with “This guy is 100% correct!”

It occurs to me that it may be difficult earning his trust in the future.  Our discussion of the incident ended with him saying “The fault lies with me.  I trusted you & I shouldn’t have and I knew better.”  Clearly next time I will need to sit down at his desk while he’s out.  Thank god for persistent cookies.

This story is tragically sexy & disgusting

I’m going to violate two jonsonblog rules in this post - I usually stay away from stories about kooky news items, because there’s plenty of room for that on the internet, and I usually stay away from stories about women I would have sex with, because my wife reads this blog & she has easy access to pointy objects for stabbing me.

But when I read the story of Jaileen Soliman (yes, you read that right; Jaileen), I was moved to comment.  If you’re unfamiliar, Jaileen is a 25 year old Floridian woman who was arrested in mid November while living in utter squalor with her 3 children, all home schooled, 8 cats, a pit bull, a pot bellied pig(!), a bird and a constantly rising tide of filth including human & animal waste. 

But the real issue here is the dichotomy between my brain & my penis on how we analyzed this story.  My brain feels sorry for the kids, and for the woman, who is clearly not right in the head, although not so much for the pot bellied pig, who was probably more in his element than any pig in America, and is now very angry at Social Services for fucking up a good situation.  My penis, on the other hand, is trying very hard to convince the rest of me that having sex in a living room filled with human waste would not be that high of a price to pay.  See, Jaileen is super hot.  Like, at the very least stripper hot, certainly “pedophile Junior High Teacher” hot, and possibly even legitimately hot.  Add in a flounder index that would unquestionably be off the charts, and my penis makes some interesting points.

Sadly Jaileen, it will never work out between us.  You are currently in Jail (oh the irony!), you have a 10 year old even though you are only 25, and your cooter is quite possibly a petri dish full of biological weapons that even the worst tyrants would be too shamed to loose upon an ususpecting public.  Meanwhile, I live on the other side of the country, and I’m married to a woman who may stab me in my sleep tonight after she reads this.

I like to daydream about the life we could have had, Jaileen.  You and I walking hand in hand along a beach somewhere, pausing only to poop in public and then make out right near that poop.  I guess I’m just a romantic at heart.

If Only I Could Harness This Power For Evil

A couple hours later, and I’m already the #3 result in Google for “Sexy Gambling,” ahead of even sexy-gambling.com, which has got to be very embarassing for the people in charge of their search engine optimization.  Nice try, sexy-gambling.com, but you failed to write enough blog entries about being raped by bears, and that’s why I win.  Advantage, Jonson!

Now Who’s The Retard

An alert jonsonblog reader asks “Have you explored wearing the Slanket as a pair of billowy pants?

Now who’s the retard?!“

Well played sir, well played.

Unfortunate Tattoo

On my lunch break just now, my co-worker and I drove by a young woman in a tube top(!) standing on a corner. She had the word “BRIAN” tattooed on her chest, right above her boobs, which led to the following exchange:

Me: Did you see that?

Co-worker: Yeah.  I guess she really likes Brian.

Me: Let’s hope so. If they broke up, it’d be really awkward for the next guy.  “Every time I titfuck my girlfriend, I come on her ex boyfriend’s name.”*

*This post was directly inspired by the disgraceful lack of vulgarity on the jonsonblog in recent times.

Men are different than women

In talking with the missus the other night, I made an offhanded comment about the perpetual horniness of teenage boys, and when the comment was greeted with mild skepticism, I responded “oh please, when I was 14 I would have tried to fuck an apple if I could find an apple corer with roughly the same diameter as my penis.” 

Now, we’re pretty close, the missus and I.  We’ve been together for nearly 10 years, married over 7 of those, and we’ve seen a lot of each other during that time.  But she literally has no idea if I’m exaggerating for comic effect or if my fetish for older women extended to include Granny Smith.  And that’s really as it should be. 

All I can say is, I’m glad the LBC is not a little boy, I don’t want to have to gaze around the kitchen suspiciously in 12 years.