PICTURES
I showed a lady friend these pictures of nature’s fiercest inhabitants as babies and she responded that she would rather raise baby animals than baby children. This is a great idea. Our country is already overpopulated with ungrateful, incompetent, overweight kids. What’s that Billy? Your crush doesn’t want to go to the middle school dance with you? It’s because you weigh 200 pounds and ride a Segway to class. Baby animals go from cute to adorable to dress-them-up-in-clothes-and-make-a-blog. Do you think a baby ring-tailed lemur would come home drunk at 3 a.m., or a pygmy falcon chick would be knocked up before getting a learner’s permit, or an infant king penguin would max out your EMERGENCY USE ONLY credit card and then throw a tantrum when you asked it to take out the trash? We should stop adding to Wal-Mart’s workforce and Hot Topic’s clientele and help repopulate our endangered species. Plus, when they die—free dinner! I’m solving our population problems and world hunger.
TRAILER
Do you remember that movie Michael Cera was in where he played the quasi-nerdy, socially awkward character who said funny things under his breath? I can’t recall the name, and you’ll be happy/shocked to know that’s not the result of a night of heavy drinking (stupid New Year’s resolutions). Was it Superbad? Juno? Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist? Year One? Paper Heart? Oh, that’s right, it was all of those. But in Year One he had long hair, so that’s a difference. He’s free to play the same character in every movie; I recycle the same jokes every few months. And he made more money while I was brushing my teeth this morning than I’ll make all year, while I take out I.O.U.s at Subway every afternoon. Anyway, Cera plays his same schtick in Youth In Revolt, but also plays his own adventurous, suave, mustachioed alter ego (baby steps here). The reason YIR is getting mentioned is Zach Gallonofmilk Galifianakis playing his mom’s white trash boyfriend. God, this guy can do nothing wrong. I hope he doesn’t turn into Will Ferrell.
PICTURES
Crayons were one of my favorite things to play with when I was in kindergarten. But while most kids were focused on staying in the lines and using the right shade of green to color grass with, I was drawing on the table and my shirt and coloring the sky purple and school buses green. Whatever, rules are made to be broken (*spikes hair, blasts Sex Pistols*). And yeah, once in a while I did eat a crayon or two. They look like food! If you eat a brown one and a maroon one together it tastes like peanut butter and jelly. Don’t even get me started on those smelly markers. You mean to tell me they made a marker smell exactly like black licorice and didn’t expect anybody to lick one? Ha ha, right, next you’ll say glue isn’t safe to eat. Anyway, Herb Williams makes sculptures out of crayons. I doubt he got bullied in school. His stuff looks impressive (dogs, an iPod with headphones, Johnny Cash), but more importantly—if I ate two tan crayons with a brown, yellow, green and red one in between, would it taste like a cheeseburger?
WEBSITE
Human Clock is a website that displays a picture for each minute of the day, and somewhere in each is the time. So if you leave the site open and check it throughout the day, you’ll feel like you’ve been around the world and have a really diverse group of friends. Maybe at 10:44 there’s a picture of someone in Japan using chopsticks. Maybe at 3:12 there’s a picture of a scoreboard in a baseball game. Maybe at 7:47 there’s a picture of the side of an airplane. It makes each picture part “Where’s the numbers?” and part “What is this picture’s back story?” It’s very charming because clocks are never personal. They’re so cold, just counting down the time until we all die. And then they’ll keep counting, and then they will be alone. Sorry, I saw Up in the Air last night and it made me question my life. God this is depressing. Screw resolutions, where’s my Bud Light Lime?
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It’s a new year, and one of my resolutions is to be more socially caring when on Twitter. No more typo-laden Tweets when I’m drunk at Applebees. No more angry shorthand rants about traffic on LI. No more…oh who are we kidding? My resolution? Get a Twitter tattoo.
