Sunday, December 29, 2013

Dove's Real Beauty commercial is bullshit, and so is your face


I thought the title was mildly appropriate given the subject matter. Yes people, this is what it has come down to. We are all bickering over the stuff I use to lather my balls with and occasionally my asshole. Soap. I'm not sure what else could fit that description. Maybe shaving cream, but I make a point to never shave below my single roll of fat. Not because I have prejudice against smooth balls, I just like comparing my sack to Abraham Lincoln's face. Anyway, at some point in 2013, soap apparently became a pressing social issue. At least I think it did. Do I understand this properly?

So this company that loves white people made a commercial which was intended to be a beacon for women everywhere to realize their external beauty or something. Selling stuff was clearly a secondary objective. Point is, women everywhere lost their minds. Naturally, this struck me as comedy gold, and I immediately endeavored to make fun of everyone involved. I can do that. I'm a satire writer, and an asshole. And when I say "immediately", I mean several months after the fact. I don't adhere to urgency often.

Now, I'm not writing this because I hate women or anything. It's just that I had a free afternoon and sometimes it's really easy to make fun of things. Seriously, someone might as well have addressed an invitation directly to me. It just so happens that women are involved in the topic. I'm also going to make fun of Dove too, so this may be the most wonderfully ambivalent piece of writing that you will be confusedly angry at all day. So, while I sit here contemplating masturbation and waiting for my shitty internet to load the only piece of research I cared to reference for this, allow me to walk you through the video that happened in 2013.

The video begins with a sketch artist dude who worked for the FBI for a while. A lady is interviewed, in this place she had never been before, which she awkwardly tried to be clear about, and she soon realizes, oh my! This man in this completely contrived scenario is drawing me! I can't imagine what else he would be doing with a drafting board. Perhaps he was going to frisbee it at her face? That's what I would have done. What's weird is that the woman claims she figured out he was drawing her from the questions he was asking. The scratching pencil didn't tip you off?

The women begin describing themselves, I think one girl tears up a little for the camera, then some other people come in and describe the same people. The women who were drawn then get to look at the sketch of themselves that they described, and the sketch that another person described, side by side. Sorry to spoil the ending for you, but the sketch on the left looked like the wax sculpture of Amanda Bynes, so just Amanda Bynes, therefore disgusting, the sketch on the right looked like someone I would jack off to for at least a minute, and then Dumbledore dies.



Left: Shrek
Right: Dreams
Far right: Looks like a girl I work with



I wouldn't say I liked the video the first time I watched it, because if I did, that would mean that I'm gay. I certainly didn't hate it. I got the message they were sending and moved on with my life that consists of eating and neglecting laundry. You are more beautiful than you realize and you judge yourself too harshly and all that shit. Cool, good message, particularly for women, who are hounded on about looks in our society. Don't be so critical of your looks, be happy, whatever. It's like people suddenly regret putting looks above everything else and are trying to make up for it. Then people everywhere, I assume mostly women, collectively lost their shit at this advertisement that didn't perfectly represent every aspect of equality and diversity. This confused me, because at first I thought women everywhere were saying, "You can't tell us to be happy with how we look, you bastards!" A social issue hasn't erupted everytime I've tried to compliment a woman, what's going on here? So I decided to see what all of the complaints were about.

I was linked to a site called, "Business Insider" that had a piece titled, "Why People Hate Dove's 'Real Beauty Sketches' Video". It looked as if the article was a summary of all the main complaints that people have had towards the video, which was great news for me. I take research about as seriously as I take ass crack grooming, as has been well established at this point, so thank you to whomever it was that compiled this list of inventive pessimism. You've made my life easier. The list of complaints was great fun to read, largely because I found a way to make fun of every point in some regard. Again, not because I'm sexist, but because I'm an asshole. These qualities are infact mutually exclusive at times. First off, most glaringly, the title seemed off to me.


"Why People Hate Dove's 'Real Beauty Sketches' Video"
Hate. I've used the same word to describe my feelings towards the bizarrely sharp, invisible objects that sometimes inhabit the bottom of my shoes, or how I feel whenever someone asks me what I'm going to do with my life. Personally, I like answering that question with, "Die eventually." That conversation is now over. The problem I have with the word "hate" is that it's overused. We don't comprehend the gravity of it anymore. We've went right to the top shelf with that word. If you hate something, by definition, that person or object has incurred your extreme, seething hostility and you wish death upon it. I don't think people "hate" the video so much as they were "irked" by it. They felt "dissatisfaction". I think we should put more stock in those words rather than "hate", because really, to put all of your hatred in perspective, this is what it probably looked like:


It's nice to see my flawless artwork conveying my ideas perfectly.
The giant Hershey's bar is supposed to be a keyboard, if you couldn't tell



Another complaint I had is that they called it a "video". I'd describe it more as an advertisement myself. The word "video" seems too general and devoid of context. Advertisement has a more specific focus. It's like how some doctors specialize in reading charts, walking places and ignoring you, while others delight in sticking tubes in horrible places or drugging you. No, there wasn't a good way to illustrate that thought without looking stupid, deal with it. With that in mind, reacting to this commercial in some fashion gave Dove more exposure, which is what they ultimately wanted. They probably left out certain aspects on purpose. Welcome to marketing! Or maybe Dove is just racist, money starved sexist people failing miserably at appealing to all standards, who knows? All that being said, I'm going to refer to the ad campaign as a video anyway, because I'm lazy. I'm all about low expectations. Now, on to the main complaints.


The video only focuses on a very small subset of women
I think you should look up the word "subset", because I don't think it means what you think it means. When I first read that complaint, that only a very small subset of women were represented, I thought they were complaining that Dove didn't sketch every woman on the planet. Of course they didn't, stupid. The dude would develop arthritis long before he ran out of lead. A man is only ever interested in driving his muscles to that extreme if it involves extensive masturbation. Those are some high expectations you have, lady. Some lady named Kate Fridkis described the concept of the video as some pretty young, lovely women describing their appearances. I felt it was worth noting that she used the word "lovely" to describe the abundance of white women in the video. That's nice and all, but it begs the question, how does this woman measure loveliness? I wonder what personal standards she referenced for that statement. You are no different than this filthy advertisement, you snake!

Describing all of the women as "pretty young" was good too. I suppose it was cleaner than describing the women as, "sort of but maybe not children but almost old but no kind of I don't know". Keeping it general. I like it, Kate.


In fact, most of these "real" and "beautiful" women are white
I'm not sure why the words "real" and "beautiful" were in quotations. That usually means a person is intending to be sarcastic. So wait, the white women in the video aren't real? Holy shit! Those were some convincing automatons. Robotics has come a fair ways. The women and/or cyborgs in the video aren't beautiful either? Damn. That's a little harsh, don't you think? Again, this raises the question of how this person gauges outward beauty. I know I certainly wouldn't complain if I saw any of those women in a sweater. I did feel a little cheated that we couldn't see the sketch of the asian girl. I can only imagine Dove felt it best to wheel out a picture of Buddha. He's like the stencil for asian people. Now that I'm done offending a large portion of the human race, let's continue.

"Blogger jazzylittledrops wrote a passionate blog about the video's lack of diversity." Ah, jazzylittledrops. It's good to know only the most serious and prestigious of sources were referenced for this piece. jazzylittledrops, championing the notion of diversity, complained that out of the six minutes and thirty seconds of footage, people of colour were onscreen for less than ten seconds. I'm not sure why jazzy felt it necessary to refer to black people as, "people of colour". For future reference, you can just call them black. Don't worry, making an observation is ok. I often refer to broccoli as just green rather than a "vegetable of colour". Also, just to be that guy. Technically, everyone in that video was a person of colour.

jazzy and I definitely didn't watch the same video, and for that I'm thankful. The video I watched was only three minutes and one second long. I can't imagine sitting through a 6:36 long video, I think I would literally start to biodegrade. I barely made it through the 3:01 one before deciding I had to do something else just so I wouldn't have to continue watching it. She also complained that a black man was interviewed and made the comment, "She had pretty blue eyes." Actually, he said she had, "Very nice blue eyes." Much more direct. "Pretty" can mean a couple of different things. I win the universe. What's wrong with having blue eyes and being white anyway? She also said that the two black women describing themselves in a negative way were both lighter skinned. So wait, they have to be jet black to be considered black people? I'm confused.

I dunno, I think I smell some latent racism here, or at least some slight insecurity masquerading as criticism. Is it possible that someone is projecting a little? I know I don't normally think about the absense of black people in commercials or TV shows. This person seems weirdly determined to brand herself as a free thinking, accepting, not racist person, probably in an effort to convince black people everywhere that she's one of the nice white people. Right before they jack her car, of course.


The ad might teach what it preaches against - that beauty is paramount
I like how the word "might" appears in the title. It could, I don't know. I suppose so. Definitely a possible maybe. Covering all your bases, hm? Ann Friedman had an exhaustive quote underneath this point that was essentially, "Don't judge people based on beauty." That's wonderful, but I have a problem with that complaint. The video starts with a sketch artist. What exactly did you think was going to happen? The guy would sit people down and ask questions like, "Was she good at painting? Did she express passionate opinions about the gold standard? What was her stance on communism?" My artwork is about as refined as the tinfoil around a baked potato, but I think it would be pretty hard to sketch someone's face based on their personality. The dude's not a personality profile collector, he draws pictures, and sometimes those pictures get arrested and subsequently dicked.

We all judge each other by personality in the end anyway. I know I wouldn't date a person who could string an interesting sentence together about as well as a deck screw and had as much sense of humour as a hang nail. Usually what initially attracts you to someone is outward appearance. It's important, don't kid yourself. It's naive to think that people don't have standards. I know I wouldn't date a person who's missing a head. Of course the more pressing issue in that circumstance is that person is probably dead, but you get the idea. You could have the best personality in the world, but if you're missing a head, I won't find you interesting.

... that's a lie, I'm going to wonder where the fuck your head is, if you want to play soccer, and shortly afterwards if you find the joke, "Keep your eye on the ball!" funny. Conversely, just to make a point, the paintings in my house are beautiful, but that doesn't mean I want to date and fuck them. With the exception of sexy Hawaiian bitch, goddamn.


That's my dick taking the picture



If you're with a person that is only with you because of yours looks and doesn't give a shit about your personality, then just get all of the sex you want out of the way and leave. It's very simple. Don't date a douchebag and get angry when it's exactly what you knew it would be. That only further perpetuates this ridiculous generalization. I don't condone douchebaggery, but at least it's honest.


Furthermore, it could even make women more self-conscious for having a real, as opposed to "imaginary" mole.
Kate Fridkis makes her second appearance in this piece with more choice quotes. "Interestingly, even the sketches based on the self-descriptions weren't actually particularly unattractive, and I was faintly annoyed with the idea that one sketch was supposed to represent unattractiveness and the other beauty, when the distinct-" hold on, I need to inhale. "-ions between the two seemed to lie in characteristics like a mole, shadows under the eyes, slight roundness in facial shape, or a few wrinkles." Now that we're all done moarning the death of our friend the period (the tool to end a sentence with, not the vagina thing). They weren't actually particularly unattractive? That may be the most evil thing I've ever read in my life. They weren't unattractive? The fuck does that mean? What were they, attractive maybe? Why couldn't you just say that out right?

I don't think the purpose behind the video was to label one picture as Jekyll and the other as Hyde. The idea was to sell products. I'm not sure what else was going on there or why Dove felt that was needed. I find it's best not to read into things too much sometimes. For instance, I can find plenty of things in the video that raise interesting questions, depending on your perspective. Why did that one girl ride a bike to the studio? Why is the room all white? Why weren't men represented? Why weren't there any brown women? Why is everyone and everything so clean? Where are the lesbians? Though I ask that last question all the time, even at Thanksgiving dinner. I think you find evil when you look for it based on your view of things. For example, I think Barney The Dinosaur is a pedophile, and Winnie The Pooh is a heroin addict. Otherwise, there's a simple explanation for everything. Winnie The Pooh fucking loves honey, and Barney enjoys pissing in the mouths of children.

Kate states that the video implies that all women who age and get wrinkles are less attractive, and I think to an extent, things imply what you want them to imply, because I don't remember that being said directly. Now I wish it had though. Had the sketch artist compared a woman's face to his scrotum, and then immediately got a boot to that area, I would have been far more entertained. I'm not saying don't ask questions or discuss things, I'm just saying there's value in sleeping all day instead.


The ad blames women, rather than society, for critiquing the smallest physical imperfection.
It may be because I'm a white male and nothing bad has ever happened to me, but I don't grasp this concept very well. The message I'm getting here is that we should blame the pressures of society for our choices? Society made you wear the clothes you're wearing, held you down and put make up on your face? You are victimized by beauty standards that society imposes on you that you are under no obligation to fulfill at all? It's impossible for people to be critical of themselves, and when it happens, it's always a bad thing? This all has to be a byproduct of environment and what we're fed on television? Sorry to get all serious on you here, but I'm not sure what's worse. Labelling all women as victims, or labelling all women as gullible, mindless idiots? Though in fairness, when I watch a car commercial, it does make me want to buy the fuck out of a van.

You do realize that at any point you want, you can shave your entire head, never wear make up again and dress in a potato sack, right? You can do whatever the hell you want, you don't have to buy into anything. I'd hang out with you. This begs the question, who exactly do you hang around with who perpetuates this myth that all women must be skinny blondes with blue eyes and impeccable fashion sense, and if they are less than perfect, they are judged and ostracized for it? These guidelines for perfection tickle my balls, because they're so ambiguous. Perfection to one person could be that they have a foot fetish. Perfection to me is the ability to tell at least one adequate knock knock joke. I know I haven't oppressed any women I know, at least not in the past few days, so what the hell is going on here? Those are some terrible people you hang around with or pay attention to, ladies. Get the hell out of there!


Women don't want to be seen as victims. It's patronizing.
Then why do you complain all the time about everything? I know the shoes don't go with the dress. Worse things could happen in life. Anyway, a women, who by the grace of Facebook's lackluster privacy settings, has her name publicly on display in this article. She says, "Implying all women hate themselves for stupid reasons that don't exist is not empowering or comforting, it's insulting." Good thing the video focused on a small subset of women, am I right?? Isn't it a bit of a stretch to assume that these women with scripted dialog hate themselves? Saying that they hate themselves for stupid reasons is kind of misguided as well. That seems kind of dismissive. You've never wanted to change anything about yourself ever? Nothing ever bothers you, and when things bother other people, it's stupid? This message has become confusing. On the brightside, only this small group of women hate themselves.


The sketch artist was a man
I dunno, I thought he drew the pictures pretty good. Apparently, the issue was that he got to present to the women their "true" beauty. What's wrong with that? That makes it sound like you need special schooling to compliment a woman, without a rigorous anaylsis occurring shortly afterwards. Would you have preferred a woman present the sketches? I'm not sure if that would solve the problem more than create more problems. If this commercial featured all women, it'd be a disaster. Have you spent any amount of time in the real world? Women hate each other! The commercial would be all passive aggressive and quiet, and only when the other women were several yards away would they voice their contempt for their eyebrows or poor taste in shoes. You don't even get to see a good fight full of slaps and scratching. That's right, I understand females. No shade of contrived ignorance here, ladies.


It's hypocritical for an ad aiming to instill healthy body images to come from Unilever, a company that makes a business of marginalizing women in Axe campaigns.
Those Axe commercials confuse me. They make it seem like you have to cover yourself in a deadly nerve agent to attract women, and also that they appear to enjoy suffocating to death. What I'm wondering now is, what's the ideal scenario here? Thus far, no one raising complaints about this ad has suggested anything to that end. This is supposed to be a very supportive atmosphere, and you are not being conducive to such. If you're starved for suggestions, I have an idea. Two black people walk in frame, one old, one young, and then they start making out. One of them has a dick and a lesbian sucks on it, then someone saves a puppy and eats a pistol because fuck guns, man. This way, people can't claim the commercial is racist or degrading to gay people or even animals, and opposes gun laws. If that wouldn't sell some goddamn soap, I don't know what would.

Even if you made the perfect commercial that represented everybody equally and well, I would still think you're fucking stupid. Just sell what you want to sell and shut up about it, you don't need to create an identity or attempt to start a movement. Not doing terrible things is usually a good enough reason for me to buy something. Everything else just makes me think you're full of it. I just want to buy soap and shampoo. Why do ethics need to be introduced in this scenario? I just want clean balls. Throughout all of this, I still don't know what Dove was trying to sell. Their name, I guess? I think the biggest reason why women hated the video so much, is because there wasn't a clearly labelled object to buy. That's just me saying something terrible because it makes me happy that you're mad now.

I think we should all just stop watching TV and videos for a while and fuck all of these companies over. Suddenly, their dumb messages that could never possibly apply to everyone hold very different meanings. Why would they even bother trying in that circumstance? Oh damn, these people were just looking for creams to masturbate with, not a social movement weirdly aimed directly at women. Eat my balls, Dove. I'm gonna go listen to Blurred Lines and pee on a lesbian now. Take care!

Friday, June 14, 2013

Getting My Appendix Removed - A More Needle Filled Adventure Than A Lindsay Lohan Biography

I wrote most of this in my notebook the day after the surgery when I was out of recovery, like a boss. I was bed ridden the entire day and I needed something to distract me while I had trouble peeing. This is that.



The title's a little longer, but whatever. Like Peter North, it gets the job done. So I had my appendix removed yesterday, and like everything else that happens in my life, it deserves to have a story written about it. I would have written about the time I lost my virginity, since that was an ordeal, but I promised your mom that I would be discrete. Here's how I got my appendix taken out. A story that proves the human body shares qualities with pressure grenades.


The story begins on my goddamn day off. The day I booked off, in fact, because as Murphy's Law states, these things can't happen any other time. I can't even have the satisfaction of vomiting on something at work. For shame. It was around 8:00 or 8:30 after I had essentially eaten a bowl of beans, when I had me one hell of a stomach ache. I was sure the stomach ache and beans were linked in some fashion. Felt like a Scottish marching band was using my stomach as a drum, or that I'd just eaten a quesadilla laced with dead bird. Either way, I felt like a bag of ass. Also, I don't know if this is the drugs talking right now, but I just realized that humans resemble bag pipes in a lot of ways. We're awkward looking bags of air with tubes sticking out, and we make funny noises when someone squeezes us.


Anyway, I believe it was around three in the morning when I was wide awake and decided, to hell with it, it's vomit time. Normally I will do anything to avoid vomiting, like how my girlfriend will do anything to avoid watching Dragon Ball Z with me, but it had to be done. Luckily I keep a picture of my ass crack on me at all times, so vomit was induced quickly. Problem was, I still felt like dead rain barrel squirrel afterwards. The rest of my sleepless night was full of more vomiting, ceaseless chest pain and only somewhat successful bowel movements. I shat out a green pebble the size of a ping pong ball at some point, that was funny.


Eventually it was morning and I felt like Kurt Cobain, post mortem. I had a sip of tea, then buried myself in my pillow to sort of sleep. I woke up with a sharp pain slightly above my love hammer, meaning I was either still sick, I was about to start pissing wasps, or I had rolled over one of my balls in my delirium that I would barely classify as sleep. At some point I decided to watch Fringe to take my mind off of things, but that was a stupid idea. When you're focused that show can be hard to follow. I had just spent the night clogging the toilet with my internal organs. I thought I was fucking hallucinating. All I remember was that someone got shot and I didn't care, and then someone got crushed by a car via telekinesis. That was awesome. Instant raspberry yogurt.


A little while later my girlfriend came over, and not long after that, the pain had migraded to the lower right quadrant of my mid-section, which is one of the many imminent self-destruct areas in your body. So my mother, who became tired of my repeated screaming, decided it would be best to take me to Emergency at Grey Nuns hospital. I'm not sure why the hospital is named Grey Nuns. Why would a nun be grey? Do some world views fall in a grey area? Is there a difference between grey and gray? I'm confused. Anyway, as the roads in Edmonton are in similar condition to Stalingrad circa 1945, the drive to the hospital was about as pleasant as dental work on the eyeballs. But, we arrived, and thus began the day of waiting. I may have waited longer to lose my virginity.


First, we waited in line in Triage, amongst people who didn't look like they really needed to be there (sorry), and others who looked more deserving of medical attention than myself. Like the lady who looked like the letter "C". Completely bent in half and barely shuffling herself around in her jogging attire. Diagnosing her must have been easy. Something inside this woman has exploded. Operate now, please.


After waiting in line in Triage, we were then sent to admission. For those who aren't familiar with how hospitals work, when you go to admission, you're essentially granted permission to sit in an uncomfortable chair for several hours while people ignore you. As movies would have us believe, medical attention is instantaneous, when it usually isn't. It involves waiting and lots of paperwork, and if that paperwork gets lost, be prepared to wait forever.


2 and a half hours later and I was moved to a room marked "Patients Only", which is another room largely designated for more waiting. While I was waiting, I was told to provide a urine sample. For future reference, if you are headed to the hospital, hold in your piss. It's highly probable that someone who probably dreamed of doing more with their life will want to examine your urine. If you pee before you leave the house like I did, you get to drink shitty Dasani, which I'm sure is made of sea water, and wait until your bladder feels like filling up and emptying again. I somehow managed a decent squirt, like if you put a piece of tape over one of those peeing statues. A lady comes up to me a while later and says, "Your urine sample was inconclusive. You need to provide another one." What? That doesn't make any fucking sense.


Lady, my dick looks like a shrivelled bean right now. I have no fluid left in my body. I distinctly remember peeing with my dick, what did I do wrong? Did someone mistake the sample for apple juice? They didn't explain shit to me, they just handed me another cup and walked away. This time, I ignored their meticulous instructions of first peeing, stopping, peeing in the sample, holding again, then peeing the rest in the toilet. Y'know, because everyone can gauge how much they have to piss with such precision. Those instructions are more complicated than going down on a vagina. So I mustered what few drops I had left and just peed it all into the cup. Take that, you bastards. Way to ruin a perfectly good batch of pee. May I just say, that it's incredibly funny handing someone a tiny bottle full of your urine.


Then my piss was never spoken of again. Later on, a guy calls me into a room and says he's going to give me some medicine. If you are like me and dislike needles, should you find yourself in a hospital, let me mentally prepare you. When someone tells you that you're getting medicine, they're about to stick a needle in each of your arms. The first needle I got was a shot of anti-inflammatory, I assume because my appendix resembled a balloon, and the other was supposed to help with nausea. Hilariously, it only made me nauseous. My temperature also skyrocketed, and then just as quickly dropped again. I was having a fantastic day thus far. Also, this is completely unrelated, but my hands smell lovely right now, my gosh.


Then a lady came in and took my blood. If I wasn't already well-versed in having my blood taken, in my state of mind at the time, I probably would have thought she was a vampire. No, instead she was just a woman with a needle, who no doubt took my blood to stockpile it for the eventual clone wars. Then another lady came in and stabbed me with more needles. I felt like a pin cushion, or more appropriately, a dart board, because I could have sworn the last needle she put in my arm left her hand for a moment. She threw it from a short distance. She was good enough to not throw it at my neck though. Best to look on the brightside.


Then, after hearing more nothing forever, a guy comes in and says, "I'm going to hook you up to an IV." By this point, it's a miracle I wasn't dead. I hadn't slept in almost 24 hours, I hadn't eaten anything since the day before, my system was full of drugs, I had several viles of my blood taken, and my appendix could very well have been on the verge of bursting that exact moment. I asked what the purpose of the IV was, since again, no one was telling me anything. Do I need the antibiotics because my appendix will be fine afterwards? Is it simply a good idea that my body be hydrated intravenously? Do I need surgery or not? I guess hospital staff don't like when you ask questions, because the man went away after my barrage of questions and never came back. Sometime after that I also got an x-ray for no reason at all. I hear those are great at detecting soft tissue damage.


At the time, I felt really stupid for essentially refusing medicine that was critical for my health at the doctor's recommendation. But in retrospect, the guy that was going to do my IV, did it for another man instead about an hour later. I eventually got an absolute sweet heart nurse who took extra care in finding a suitable vein to jam the IV in to, which she did, mid left arm. The dude nurse didn't. I noticed that the guy he helped, his hand was covered in a lot more blood than it was before. A substantial amount, in fact. He had a bandage on his hand, fucking soaked in blood. Guess that dude nurse totally missed the vein, or forgot to remove the barbed wire from his syringe. Either way, dodged that bullet.


So I sat there for another couple hours until I was sufficiently drugged up. Then, after the bag of salt water or medicine or whatever was empty for about 20 minutes, the other dude nurse in the room finally decided to stop pretending to do paper work, came over to me and said, "We're leaving this in your arm over night." I was convinced it was a needle that he left in my arm, despite him telling me otherwise. I was terrified the rest of the night and kept my arm perfectly straight. Worst part was, that asshole taped my arm so thoroughly, he essentially turned it into an eventual wax job. Thanks, man. I don't need hair anyway.


I woke up the next morning experiencing a sensation akin to rigor mortis in my left arm, and also my penis, but I interpreted that stiffness differently. My body hadn't betrayed me and bent my arm against my will during my sleep. Quite the opposite, in fact. I felt like I could have punched through a brick wall my arm was so stiff. I decided not to and showered instead, because I smelled like hospital and vomit. My mother had to wrap the area where my IV was in saran wrap before I could shower, which was funny because if you didn't know, wet saran wrap looks like a used condom. Try it sometime. Now, that morning, I was scheduled to have myself a CT scan. It's a shorter version of CAT scan that means the same thing, just with different words that doctors pretend to understand.


Before you get a CT scan, you need to fast for at least 12 hours, which is something certain people consider to be a legitimate substitute for exercise. So I enjoyed some water and headed off to the hospital to have more of my blood taken immediately. Five fucking vials of it. The first day it was two or three, I can't remember, but today, it was five. WHY?! What the hell does anyone need with five vials of blood? Is the blood being used in a cult ritual? Just take the whole fucking arm.


After the oddly humourless woman robbed my body of precious fluid, I was sent to a really weird looking section of the hospital for my CT scan. The walls were bright pink, and then just as quickly went back to turquoise. I found myself in a room with an enormous television watching the show, "Kelly and Michael". I guess Regis has retired, so now that smokin' hot ass mama Kelly is working with that dude who I think used to play football and pretends to be important. He's the guy in the next picture with the gap between his teeth that looks like the demilitarized zone between North and South Korea, who looks like he wants to die almost as much as Ron MacLean on Coach's Corner.





That's the face of a man who hates himself



God I would fry an egg on Kelly's ass. What a sexy bitch. Thank you for giving me boners when I stayed home sick from school as a kid, Kelly. Anyhow, if you find yourself going in for a CT scan one day, I'm here to give you fair warning. It sucks balls. While you're sitting there waiting, a lady will walk in with a paper cup the size of a 7/11 Big Gulp full of mysterious liquid and tell you three things. One, drink it. Two, do it quickly. Three, she will say something similar to, "It's mostly sort of water." Then she'll just disappear. You will actually never see her again. Her entire purpose for being is to give you a cup of shit and tell you to drink it. We really are trusting of our medical professionals, aren't we? She could have handed me a cup of paint thinner for all I know.


Now let me tell you the secret behind fasting for a CT scan. It's not because eating or drinking will disrupt the scan, no. I'm 100% confident it's because you won't have anything to throw up after you drink that filth. What they essentially tell you to drink is a giant cup of plastic mixed with toilet water. It was absolutely revolting. The other kid in the room with me must have been dreading drinking that shit, because I was coughing and gagging. Every last drop was suffering. Then I gave my cup back to some other lady at a desk, waited for a little bit, then got called down for my CT scan.


But, as I should have known, when you're called down to anywhere in a hospital, the first thing you're going to be doing is waiting. So I sat with an annoying old couple while I waited for my scan. I sat there for what felt like an hour until someone called me into the room. The whole time I was thinking to myself, "Why did I have to drink that plastic shit so quickly if they were just going to make me wait?" While I was sitting down though, that lady I saw the day before in Triage, the one who was bent in half in agony, was being wheeled around on a stretcher. She waved at me. I waved back. It reminded me of Wallace and Gromit.






A sweet little asian lady then lead me into a room and said, "You need to watch this video before you get your scan." The video outlined exactly what was going to be happening in my CT scan, clearly believing that this scan is more dangerous than it actually is. The biggest issue surrounding a CT scan is this dye they inject into you that's used to map spots on organs. Sometimes people have bad reactions to this dye, like nausea, vomiting, or dying. This is something that a person could just tell me, not this monotone asshole on the TV. After that, I was directed into the scanning room, and this lady walks up to me with another cup of that goddamn plastic water. "We need a little bit more of this in your system." Oh, so now it's instantaneous. I don't need to wait for rapture for it to spread through my system. Wonderful. So I drank the melted grocery bag and laid down on an extremely comfy table, my god, while the nurse injected the dye into my blood stream.


She told me, "You will start to experience a warm sensation, and you will feel like you wet the bed." Sure enough, a couple seconds later, I felt like I had opened a dishwasher mid-cycle and jammed my head inside, and it really did feel like I pissed myself. It was really pleasant, actually. I'm surprised people don't piss themselves more often. It's so warm (I didn't actually piss myself). Then they stick you inside a giant donut and a lady tells you to hold your breath and stuff. Really, it's a big ass donut.






Then your kidneys soak up the dye almost instantly, marking the first time in my life where I've fully appreciated my kidneys, so you're good to go and wait some more while they analyze the scan. Typically you're getting your chest scanned when you get a CT scan, so you have the pleasure of still not being able to eat or drink anything while you wait for results. For an hour. Joyous. I'm not sure if it's ever expressly explained why you can't eat, but what I do know is that this process could loosely be considered torture at this point. I did learn something interesting while I waited in Triage some more. There are three distinct sections of the middle of your body.


I used to refer to the whole thing as my chest, as every layman does, but as I discovered, it is indeed split into three different sections. Chest, stomach and abdomen. They also fall into their own categories of severity. There's a sign in Triage that reads, "If you are experiencing chest pains, you are permitted to skip the line." This is important, because if you walk in there with a stomach ache, they will tell you to fuck off to the back of the line. If you tell a doctor that you are having chest pains, they generally interpret that as, "Your heart is about to explode" and medical attention comes immediately. If your abdomen is bothering you, that's not terribly worrisome. So long as your appendix hasn't turned septic, most doctors assume you are just struggling to take a crap. And unless you have a bullet in your stomach, like I said, enjoy the back of the line, you pony bitch. I drew a diagram to illustrate this better:






So over an hour later, a nurse struggled to pronounce my name somehow, and I was lead back to Patients Only. I'm sure there's a proper name for that room, but I can't be bothered to remember what it could be. Unwanted Accupunture Victims would be most appropriate, because when I entered that room again, the barrage of needles was astounding. I got more shots in my arms and sweet jesus, they took more of my blood. The amount of blood they drained me of at this point roughly equates to a small child. I felt like that nazi dude at the end of The Last Crusade.


Should have moisturized, bro


Come to think of it, they may have just taken my blood. I'm not sure anymore. The amount of needles at this point has sort of blurred in my mind into one giant harpoon. They did hook me up to an IV again, that I remember, because I sat there for another hour or so watching a show called Cake Boss. I think a better title for the show would be, "Asshole Makes Cakes", as it's more honest. The host is a complete prick douchebag from New Jersey who pretends to be in The Godfather 90% of the time, yells a lot for no reason, and generally takes cake making far too seriously. You bake and design sugary sponges for a living. This isn't fourth down in the fucking Super Bowl. Take it down a notch, Don Corleone.


Nice cake, asshole


Then after waiting some more, and mustering the dumbest answers I possibly could for some nurse's questionnaire, I was summoned into a room with a doctor and a surgeon, at long last. The surgeon was quick to confirm what I already knew, I was going to have surgery. Kinda figured, since I was talking to a surgeon. Took them along enough to get around to saying it. They said it would be happening later in the evening, and simply told me to sit tight until they called me down. No problem, I'm already well versed in doing that. The look on the surgeon's face after he broke the unsurprising news to me was weird. He looked at me with such dismay and said, "I'm sorry" and paused dramatically afterwards. This isn't Grey's Anatomy, boy. Am I gonna die or something? How bad are you at your job that you have such little confidence in yourself? I'm not scared of surgery. I'm more frightened by your enormous math teacher mustache. Felt like I was in a German porn movie.


Just to go back to the questionnaire for a moment, I wasn't entirely honest with you. It was just one really dumb answer. She asked me my name and birthday, marking the 83rd time I answered those questions for some reason. Either hospital staff are extremely forgetful, doubt my credentials and/or existence on this plain of reality, or need to constantly check if I'm still lucid. Then she asked me, "How much do you drink in a week?" Keep in mind, I don't drink alcohol, so when someone asks me how much I drink, I interpret that question very differently than the average person. I answered, "I don't know. I don't really keep track. Is a lot a good answer?" I didn't realize it at the time, but the shocked expression on her face was very justified. I followed up a second later by saying, "I drink at least four glasses of water a day..." The look of relief on her face looked like she'd just found Jesus. She said, "No no, I mean how much alcohol do you drink?" I replied, "Oh. None. I don't drink." She then began to laugh her ass off for the next 30 seconds. In fairness to me, she could have phrased that question better. To be unfair, I'm an idiot.


Then, in uncharacteristic fashion, a nurse called my name like half an hour after my brief meeting with the surgeon and said, "They're ready for you now!" Damn, that was oddly fast. I had hoped to use the time before the surgery to mentally prepare myself for it. Then they called me down, and although I consider myself a brave and exceptionally manly person, and despite being in a positive mood, I'll admit. In that moment, I was scared shitless. Literally. Some dude told me to get naked and put on a robe, so I went to the bathroom and pooped. My fight or flight response was leaning more to the flight path, as I immediately began plotting escape routes and excuses I could spin to get out of the surgery. But like kisses from grandma, there was no escape. So I exited the bathroom, laid down on the stretcher thingy and was wheeled off to the surgical wing. Though it did feel kinda cool having someone wheel my naked ass around, I must say. Hospitals kind of do a bad job at making you feel like you're not going to die.


Once I got to the wing, slightly curious if I'd just flashed everyone on the way, a really nice nurse gave me a blanket and said, "The anesthesiologist will be along in about 15 minutes." Although a blanket is what Yoda was wearing before he died (spoiler alert), it was so wonderfully warm, I didn't care. Felt like she put my feet in a microwave. Then she put a shower cap on my head and walked away. Then the anesthesiologist came along and essentially said, "I'm going to drug you." Again, kinda figured, since you're essentially a drug dealer, but it's good to know medical professionals can describe what they do. It instills confidence that they know what they're doing as well. Then my girlfriend came in, and what a sight that must have been for her. Fucking shower cap on my head, tube in my arm, old blanket on my feet, piece of shit robe on me that looked like umbrella material, disgusting facial hair, and more pale than a masturbation addict. All that's missing is a missing leg and bleeding eyeballs. On reflection, I should have said "Hey sweet cheeks." Fuck.


Then I said goodbye to my mom and girlfriend and got wheeled into an extremely bright room filled with people with masks on, who would be removing a piece from my unconscious body in a few minutes. Man, if the hospital setting hadn't been well established by this point, that would be a really creepy sentence. I then lifted myself off the stretcher and on to this tiny ass table, absolutely flashing the dude pretending to do work infront of me. I also noticed there was some young looking nurse looking at me and smiling. She was wearing a mask, but I could tell. I'm also pretty sure I went to high school with her. I don't know how I could tell, but I could. Damn, what's with all these people my age making more money than me? Fuck you, I can beat Halo 1 in under an hour and twenty minutes. Bet you guys can't. Suck it.


Anyway, then a really nice lady asked me to hold out my arm, so I did. The anesthesiologist walked up, and I swear to god, just tapped my IV. He didn't stand there for a few seconds and carefully inserted a needle or something. He just walked up and tapped it. There was no way to make that sentence not sound dirty. Less than five seconds after, the ceiling appeared to start moving up and down. A lady put a mask on my face and the anesthetic guy said, "You should be feeling light headed." I'm not sure how I was supposed to answer him with a tube on my face, but indeed I was. 10 seconds later and I was gone. I don't even remember a fade to black. Just cut to black. BAM. Out. Damn that shit works fast. I potentially could have just died, and I didn't care at all.


Then two seconds later I woke up to a lady asking me, "How are you feeling, Scott?" My first thought was, "How do you know my name?" My second thought was, "I wonder who that nurse was in the surgical room..." Then I replied, "I feel like I'm on drugs, so quite pleasant, thank you." She giggled, then I went back to sleep, and immediately woke up in recovery. My first thought there was, "How the fuck did I get here?" My second thought was, "I wonder how many people have seen my dick today." I could tell I was still on drugs, because my mom and my girlfriend didn't walk into the room after I woke up, they glided into the room, as if on a conveyor belt. I giggled. I don't remember the conversations that took place afterwards, just that I probably sounded really stupid during them.


I was really looking forward to sleeping after my mom and girlfriend left. I was completely exhausted. Naturally the drugs wore off moments after they left, so I was wide awake. Damnit. Shortly after, a really sweet nurse with a wonderful Ukrainian accent walked in with a tiny bag marked "Bath" and said, "Time to wipe yourself down!" Sweet. This should fulfill at least two fantasies at once. The scary Russian sounding nurse lady cliche didn't even occur to me until several hours later she was so nice. I will say that if our roles were reversed in that moment, that probably would have sounded creepy. "Time to your wipe yourself down! Yeah, slower." Gah. Then I got confused. Wipe myself down? What the hell is she talking about? I shit myself during the procedure, didn't I? I realized what she was referring to when I lifted up my robe. I appeared to be covered in red spray paint. A little alarming at first, I thought I was covered in blood, but it was just antiseptic. The base of my dick was red as well, confirming my suspicion that several people saw my junk today, and someone touched it as well.


After failing to get the bulk of the antiseptic off, the nurse ordered me to go pee because she was leaving soon. Apparently she was very confident in my ability to pee. She handed me a tiny bucket-like contraption that fit in the toilet bowl that measures how much you pee, and away I went. It was this moment that was very eye opening for me. I went to get out of bed, and I couldn't fucking move. I didn't have the capacity to try harder either. I was just kind of stuck there. The nurse eventually freed me from my mattress prison, and I went pee. It was glorious. Painful and strenuous, but glorious. I nearly filled that little bowl thing. She then instructed me to leave it there. Poor lady. I can't imagine that was very pleasant to deal with afterwards. Then I got back in bed and she said, "I'm going to give you a shot before I leave." Hey! One more for the road, why not? She gave me a shot of blood thinner, meaning if I accidentally cut myself on anything, I would look like I just got injured in a Tarantino movie, and I would bleed out instantly. Not really, but that's what I imagined would happen.


Thus began the night of agony. No one told me that laying down was a bad idea, so naturally I tried to lay down. People tend to do this when they want to sleep. Should you ever get surgery done on your abdomen, here's some advice. Don't lay down for a while. You won't be able to breathe, you'll be in an enormous amount of pain as the painkillers wear off by the time you want to sleep, and you also won't be able to get up. I also hadn't eaten anything in 24 hours, so my stomach was growling and gurgling like a hungry volcano on the verge of eruption. Then my shoulder started hurting like crazy. It didn't make any sense. I was also pinned to the bed, until I discovered that I could raise the bed via remote control. Sat myself back up, and savoured the next hour of ceaseless shoulder pain and my stomach trying to eat itself and die.


The best word to describe my sleep pattern that night would be "erratic". I'd sleep for five minutes, then for half an hour, then for five minutes again, then for exactly 18 minutes. I know, because there was this obnoxiously loud clock in my room. All that thing needed was a bird shooting out of it and every few seconds and a strobe light to make it more absurd. I have to emphasize it. This thing was LOUD. Felt like someone was clapping in both of my ears every second. Maybe I was going insane at this point, I don't know. Soon enough, however, my roommate's snoring drowned out the clock extremely well, so I had the pleasure of now struggling to sleep next to a malfunctioning go-cart. Every now and again he'd choke on his snore, so he'd snort like a pig for a few seconds, then snore even louder, as if achieving a higher decibel of snore would abate the choking hazard. The guy also let out a raunchy fart in the bathroom at around 4 in the morning that shook the door.


Then at around 6 in the morning when I woke up from another 10 minute increment of whatever my body was doing that slightly resembled sleep, I got up to pee again, then a nurse came into the room to check on the old bastard sleeping next to me. Then she brought me cranberry juice, which didn't taste like cranberry juice at all, and it was delicious. I was so happy to finally have something in my system other than drugs, water and surgical instruments. Then I walked around Recovery for a while before discovering the kitchen. The nurse said I could make toast, so I made a slice and went back to my room. That was the most amazing piece of toast I have ever eaten. It could only have been more delicious if Kate Beckinsale walked in and buried my face in her breasts.


Afterwards I finally introduced myself to my roommate, and this guy was made of balls. I noticed he had a HUGE cut on his neck, and before I could ask him what the hell happened, he told me the story. "Well, I was on the fuckin' golf course, and this fuckin' piece of calcium broke off into my brain. So I drove myself to the doctor and he looked me dead in the eye and said, 'I can fix you, but I could fuckin' kill you.' They fixed me up and I've been here since friday. I better get to leave today, I need to work on my swing. This coffee tastes like dogshit." He started telling more stories of how he visited Africa, how he met his wife on a golf course and banged her somewhere in the trees (not kidding), and how he has seven children, one of which he described to me as, "a fucking asshole". He later said to me, "When do they serve breakfast in this fuckin' place? Worst bed and breakfast ever. HAHAHAHAHA!!" This man, was insane.


Then a nurse came in and took my blood, just what I like for breakfast. I would like to go back to the hospital after I recover and ask someone how much of that blood was actually needed. Afterwards I was sitting in bed, still enjoying my cranberry juice and water, when a doctor came in with a pack of students, marking the fourth different doctor I had dealt with in two days. He looked like the Old Spice guy though, which was cool. I think I may have disappointed him though. He asked me stuff like, "Can you move? Can you pass gas? How is your pain?" I said I walked around Recovery most of the morning, I farted earlier, and my pain was non-existant. He looked so sad, like he wanted there to be something wrong with me so his students could learn something. Instead, they just learned that I'm awesome and heal like Wolverine, so they should feel priviledged instead, ungrateful shits.


Not too long after, breakfast was served. Up until this point, I had been very friendly with all of the hospital staff, and they seemed to mostly pretend to like me. So this dude walks in with my food and I asked him all cheerfully, "What's on the menu today?" He just looked at me with such disdain, like he wanted to stab me to death, mumbled something, set the food down and walked away. He didn't give my roommate Kenneth anything though, so I immediately heard, "Where's my fuckin' food, cocksucker?" I'm pretty sure the guy heard him too, considering he was just outside the door grabbing the extra plate.


Now, I expected hospital food to resemble airplane food. I don't know if airplane food has changed since I last flew somewhere like 13 years ago or something, but I remember it being similar to uncooked egg white mixed with snot, with cheese and a sausage on top. I also expected it to be primarily yogurt and jello. Not at all, in fact. Hospital food is just awkward. They gave me two extremely adorable tiny slices of toast that were bleach white, a tiny omelette that was an absolutely perfect rectangle, looked indistinguishable from a sponge, an enormous cup of coffee, probably something else that I can't remember, and a tiny cup of apple juice that honestly looked like a urine sample.






I managed to fall asleep after breakfast, which was absolutely wonderful. Then my mom and brother woke my ass up like half an hour later, damnit. But it was ok, because a sexy hot mama nurse came in to give me more antibiotics, and another shot of blood thinner. Her ass pressed against my arm at some point, that was awesome. After my body finally absorbed the last of the medicine, it was finally time to remove that fucking IV and send my ass home. Naturally, removing the tape was extremely painful, but it seemed to be hurting the nurse more than it was me. She kept wincing and saying, "Ooh! I'm so sorry! Ow! Ow!" Lady, it's not your fucking arm. Just yank the damn tape off, don't be a baby. Then she had to clean my belly button incision, which was disgusting. I felt bad for her. At some point during this process, Kenneth was able to go home. His wife escorted him. I looked at her when they were leaving and thought, "I know things about you..." Thank you, Kenneth, for making my stay in Recovery entertaining, and for pretending to be deaf while that sexy nurse asked you questions. He also asked her, "When can I work on my swing?" He was totally talking about his dick. You sly dog, Kenneth.


Now I'm at home, only just now fully realizing that they essentially pulled a finger out of my belly button with a pair of tweezers. Gnarly. I had hoped they would let me keep the appendix in a bag afterwards so I could throw it at someone, but the bastards probably threw it in the garbage instead. Wasted opportunity... So yeah, that's how I got my appendix taken out. Kind of scary how my body randomly decided to shut down on me like that. Stupid body. At least I finally get all that time off from work I've wanted. I now intend to live out the next month of my life as a vegetable. A naked, constipated vegetable. Oh, and the thing that was in my arm that whole time, was in fact not a needle. It was a little flexible plastic tube thing that looked like a tiny worm, which means that I'm an idiot.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

A Bunch of Shit That Happened in 2012 - Year End Review





Happy New Year, you fucks! It's that time of year when kids the world over have to, yet frequently forget to write "2013" on all of their stupid assignments, I suppose in a constant effort to remind their teachers that it is in fact the new year. It's also my favorite time of year, when at least three people you know vow to visit the gym more often to get in shape. I'm not sure what stops people the entire year prior, but what I do know for sure and look forward to is watching them all fail miserably within a month. I cheer for the ones that make it to mid-February.

I've never cared much for the new year, personally, because I'm awesome and there's nothing wrong with me. However, there were a lot of news stories this year that caught my attention, and I've realized that the new year yields an exciting opportunity to make fun of a massive amount of shit, which I love to do. You'll notice that I titled this piece, "2012 Year End Review", which means it's likely to show up on Google eventually and piss off someone's parents. So, without further ado, here's a bunch of stories from 2012. I'll start with the end of the year, with the most disappointing apocalypse ever.


Mayan Apocalypse

What a fucking shambles this was. Only a handful of unmedicated people believed this was actually going to happen. Everyone else, including myself, knew this was total bullshit from the beginning. However, when the winter solstice came about, admit it. It crossed your mind. Then nothing happened. The world wasn't swallowed into oblivion, we weren't encompassed by a ball of light and transcended into a higher form of consciousness, and a giant bear from space didn't eat the planet. So I guess Earth rules, and ancient man had no grasp of the modern world. Really, who would have thought. On the subject of apocalypses though.

Zombie House

I'm not sure if this was 2011 news, but it makes the list anyway because someone has a zombie proof house. Did you see this thing? Sweet jesus.



The only security flaw is that it's not located on the moon. That fortress looks more zombie proof than Iron Man. Am I the only one who wants to throw a rock at it just to see what would happen?

The "God" Particle - Higgs Boson

At long last, the Large Hadron Collider has done something useful, and we've discovered the "Higgs Boson", a particle that gives certain matter in the universe, mass. I hate science, so I'm assuming this is significant to a lot of people who went to school for a long time. I'm not sure why they decided to call it the "God" particle, given the whole keep God out of science thing. What I find really amusing about the Higgs Boson, however, is that while it was made official, particle physicists are speculating that it could be an entirely different particle. So really, they discovered nothing. But it sounds cool, right? Joe Incandela, one of the spokesman for the people who discovered the particle, had this to say on the matter (hehe), "It's kind of profound." I suppose it kind of maybe is, Joe.

Pictures of DNA and Dark Matter were taken

Oh what an exciting year for science. Apparently, some people managed to take a picture of DNA, as well as a picture of Dark Matter, rounding off a potentially uninteresting Instagram profile. DNA is really small, so taking a picture of it is cool. I can understand why it's impressive, but I don't know why someone would try so hard to do it. It's a lot like mastering the yo-yo. Dark Matter is the stupid name that uncreative scientists gave to this shit in space that's apparently making the universe expand. Dark Matter is a lot like a vagina to a good scientist. They have no idea what it is. But, they took a picture of it, and then everyone got drunk at the christmas party.

Self-Driving Cars

Remember those stupid cars that could park themselves? You know, that feature that absolutely no one needed? Well, now cars can drive themselves. Look it up. The vehicle designed entirely for pranks. I'm not sure how it works, but I do know that the vehicles have gotten in a couple accidents, so the technology is still a ways- oh wait, those accidents happened when people drove them... Well, that's embarrassing. Way to suck, people. While we're on the subject of Skynet:

Microsoft patents the Holodeck

It's likely not true, but if it is, holy shit. We're getting closer to immersive Star Trek technology! Too bad it's Microsoft spearheading the design though. I can only imagine the irritating install and buggy software updates that don't work. Then they'll start releasing new versions of it on a yearly basis. Holodeck Vista. That's when mankind will have reached the pinnacle of decadence, when we start complaining about our glitchy Holodeck technology. The best part will be when porn industries pick up on the technology, projecting fuckable images on to every surface in your living room. Personally, I would set it up in my front foyer and project a giant dick out the front door. That's when only the most dedication of Jahova's Witnesses wake my ass up in the morning.

Mind-Controlled Robots

Apparently, actual mind-controlled limbs are in the works. The idea is to get paralyzed people walking again using their minds. I don't know the science behind the device, but I guess the brain sends signals to the device by some means, and you're able to move. It's very cool technology, but I feel that there could be some problems with the technology. Just the other day I was at work, saw a baby in the restaurant and thought, "I would like to punch that baby." Everyone thinks something like this at some point, don't lie. Our brains are weird fucking things sometimes. That begs the question, what happens to the limb when those thoughts come about? How strong is the arm? Is there an emergency shutdown in the event of an accidental choking? Have these people ever watched Terminator, for fuck sakes?

The diamond planet

On a sparkly note, a planet made entirely out of diamonds was found somewhere in the cosmos. It's like 8000 light years away or something, which makes it the perfect metaphor if your fiance ever starts bitching at you.

Curiousity

The Curiousity Mars Rover, so named for its bi-sexual tendencies, landed on Mars at some point this year that I can't remember, because the old Viking craft that landed there in the 70's was gay. The mission was a lot like that experiment we all did where you throw an egg off something and have to make it land safely, but in large scale. Because NASA is balls, Curiousity landed safely on Mars, and is now wheeling around searching for water, and will hopefully not get stuck in a pot hole anytime soon.

Voyager 1 strolls out of the solar system

Remember the Voyager satellite? That adorable probe floated out of the solar system this year, baffling scientists the world over. I can only assume that it's partying now while giving Earth the finger.

The Olympics

The Olympics made headlines this year, mainly because it's just the Olympics, where we all have to pretend that sports affect our patriotism. I only wanted to mention the Olympics on this list because of the fucking stupid logo:



Did you know that the awkward shapes are actually "2012"? Nobody knew that, because it was a terrible design. Did you also know that the logo is someone getting a blowjob? Or is it someone getting butt sex...? Probably both. There were other stories from the Olympics, like that frowning girl who became a meme, how Micheal Phelps is a bitch, how Usain Bolt is still fast as fuck, how the Olympic village was a giant orgy (it wasn't), and how the pre and post shows were awful, but no one really cares. Not even the Queen cared. Did you see her face? She looks like a goddamn UFC fighter that got farted on.



The NHL Lockout

While we're on the subject of sports, I'll mention the NHL lockout that's still awkwardly going on into the new year. Apparently hockey players are stupid and greedy as fuck. I don't know all of the drama surrounding the lockout, but what I do know is that it's all about money, which is funny, because the players are losing money by not playing. Way to be counter productive, you toothless morons. I hope your multi-million dollar lives are plagued by misery after this lockout.

Spain owns everybody at soccer

If you're not familiar with soccer, it's a form of entertainment in Europe that involves kicking a small leather ball and riots. Spain won the European championship this year, its third in a row, making Spain the most successful team in the history of soccer. What makes this story truly special, however, is that Spain beat Italy in the final, and italian people are great fun when they lose. The excuses are truly inventive, but they all hover around a central concept: the skill of the other team contributed nothing to the loss. Italy was injury ridden, and that's why they lost. With all the diving that the italians do to get cheap wins, eventually they were actually going to get injured. Can't just keep tempting fate like that, man.

Christine Sinclair

In an effort to make female soccer entertaining and relevant (I'm sorry, but it's true), the United States totally fucking cheated at the olympics to win it all. I didn't watch the game between Canada and the US, but I heard that it was made of bullshit, which made a woman by the name of Christine Sinclair exceptionally mad. Then she got suspended. I assume this is a big deal.

Lance Armstrong

Lance Armstrong, the man who rewrote the phrase, "Balls of steel" to "Ball of steel", fell from grace this year and was stripped of all seven of his Tour De France titles. Apparently the guy was on drugs the entire time. Lesson be learned, children. Everything great in life is achieved by substance abuse. My question is, how did he get away with it for so long? Did no one that whole time think his pee smelled just a little bit weird? I would argue that he was taking medication for the whole one testicle thing, but whatever.

Felix Baumgartner

Just to be that guy, he didn't really jump from space. He fell. Still pretty goddamn cool though. Dude broke the sound barrier and all of his organs didn't rupture and he didn't implode (regrettably). He was essentially a squishy meteorite. Now we all know the extremes man will go to for pussy.

The Rise of E-Sports

Yes, E-Sports is a real thing, and it's on the rise. Nerds compete for real money at real tournaments playing videogames, and the winners take away more than you and I do in a year. I felt it warranted a mention this year, because I think there was a tournament held in a game called League of Legends, and the prize for first place was like 2 million fucking dollars or something. 2 million dollars! This proves that videogames are only a waste of time if you suck balls at them.

SOPA and PIPA

Remember those fat assholes who tried to steal the internet? Well, after an enormous outrage at the idea, the bills weren't passed, so the internet remains free and awesome. Except I've heard that they passed some sort of bill recently that prohibits illegal downloading, so they sort of won. I still upload Halo videos to youtube regularly, and no one has fined my ass, so I guess I'm not a threat to national security. MegaUpload was though, apparently. I never used it, but I guess they stole shit, so their website got seized by the FBI. Go visit MegaUpload now. It's awesome. I think they're all in prison now too, proving that the justice system has its priorities in check.

Blue Ivy

I've unintentionally been grouping all of these entries in different categories. Sports and science, mainly. I wasn't sure how to transition into celebrity news gracefully, so I decided to do it awkwardly, with the most awkward name ever. Apparently, Jay-Z and Beyonce had a baby, and named it Blue Ivy. Beyonce's ass remained the same size throughout the pregnancy, and I suspect they will name their second child The Riddler. Blue Ivy? Really? I doubt the child of Jay-Z and Beyonce will struggle in life, but that really is a stupid fucking name.

Lindsay Lohan remains a giant ugly bitch

Ah, Lindsay Lohan. Professional cunt and serious contender for top result on Google search for "crack whore". Look at her. She looks like a fucking out house with botox:







She did a whole lot of shit in 2012 that involved drugs and car accidents, but my favorite story was when she stole a necklace. Lindsay, why would you steal a necklace...? Are you retarded? I'm really tired of her making headlines. It's not even funny anymore. It's just pathetic. We get it, you're an idiot, Lindsay. Has anyone considered that the best therapy for her would be a good old fashioned ass kicking? I'm surprised it hasn't happened yet. Shia LaBeouf got his ass kicked for being a douchebag. Lindsay Lohan is far worse. Someone slap that bitch, or put her on MXC. Picture that for a second and tell me that wouldn't be a beautiful work of art.

Kristen Stewart totally cheated on Robert Pattinson

Kristen Stewart showed some form of emotion in 2012, and cheated on Robert Pattinson with the director of Snow White and The Huntsman. How COULD YOU, Bella? Cheating on Edward like that. Robert Pattinson is an ugly bitch, I'll grant you, but how could you ever shamelessly promote the last Twilight film like that? It was totally to promote the movie, come on, are you kidding me? But, if headlines are to be believed, Kristen and Robert have thankfully made up since the cheating scandal, and are still living together, making me believe in true love.

She claimed that she only kissed Rupert Sanders, but you can totally see him going down on her in the pictures. It's awesome. His head is all the way in there. Kristen Stewart, literal hat. Unless she has a dick, which could be possible. Am I the only one who finds it weird that Kristen took way more flak than Rupert for cheating? The dude was married with kids. Some teenage girl doing her best impression of plywood, cheating on a guy who looks like one of the hyenas that killed Mufasa, portraying bland characters from shitty literature, is considered worse? Makes sense to me.

The Avengers and The Dark Knight Rises

These movies make the list of top stories for being fucking awesome. They will likely not make the list of contenders for Academy Awards, because the academy is stupid and only likes dumb films that no one has ever watched or heard about, like The Artist. In fairness, they don't have a, "Movie That Gave Me A Stiffy" category at the academy awards, so I suppose it's fair. They have to leave them out of all the other categories, otherwise they'd clean fucking house. The awards will go to Meryl Streep and whoever plays someone disadvantaged or gay. I don't lie.

Johnathan and Charlotte on Britain's Got Talent

So apparently, at some point on Britain's Got Talent, this guy and girl walked out on stage:



We soon found out that he was essentially the male version of Susan Boyle with roughly the same voice. Dude sings all high pitched and opera-like, it's fucking awesome. It made headlines because he's shy, looks weird and is over weight. Wow, I guess large people have talent too. That's amazing. You know, I never imagined that could be possible. Next we're going to see some skinny kid with glasses sing and win the hearts of millions. Then, a woman will be talented at something. Just stop me when this starts sounding condescending.

Facebook buys Instagram

I guess this was a thing that happened. I didn't hear about it. Probably because I only use Facebook to talk about my balls, and I don't even know what Instagram is. Seriously, I have no idea what Instagram is. Some kind of theory that opposes the whole conservation of energy thing I imagine. To my narrow understanding of Instagram, it's a haven for people who enjoy taking shitty photos and blurring them, and Facebook bought it. So if you've ever wondered why people are using hashtags (#) on Facebook, that's probably why.

Facebook goes public

I guess this was also a thing that happened. This explains the enormous amount of people whining about privacy issues on Facebook. I've been told that this was big news and deserved a spot on this list, so here it is. There's a lot of things that happen when a company goes public, all of which I don't understand, and will never endeavour to understand. What I do know is that Mark Zuckerberg lost a fuck tonne of money thanks to his lame ass initial public offering. Dude lost like 8 billion dollars. Now he only has about 10 billion dollars to his name. What a fucking loser.

Smallest Frog discovered

Awwww:



This discovery does beg the question though. How many of these have we stepped on before? Also, this is totally photoshop. I'm throwing that out there.

Lonesome George

For those who don't know, Lonesome George was a giant tortoise who lived on an island, who passed away in 2012. He was the only one left of his kind, and never got laid. I'm not sure why all the other species that went extinct in the last decade failed to gain notoriety. Fuck them, I guess. Poor fucking turtle.

Honey Boo Boo

Honey Boo Boo makes it on the list for so beautifully displaying what happens to children if they invade your stash of cocaine. Honey Boo Boo is a six year old beauty pageant participant, because I guess those still exist to make women hate themselves at an early age, and is also a national treasure to americans. She gained notoriety for being over weight and competing in competitions that are largely skinny and bitch oriented. She also might be insane, which is cool. Part of me desperately wants to hate her for some reason, but the family is actually kind of adorable, so me and Honey Boo Boo are chill. Mainly because she's not a known giver of fucks.

Transgender banned from beauty pageant

While we're on the subject of beauty pageants, remember that transgender who was banned from competing in the Miss Universe contest? Something I didn't know existed before this story went viral. The Miss Universe contest, not transgenders. I'm aware of the existence of Thailand. Anyway, Jenna Talackova was born a man, but went under hormone therapy and the knife to become a woman. Then she was banned from the Miss Universe contest. I don't know what rule the judges referenced for that one, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't exist. Come on, like this is actually a punishable offence. She's a woman. Get over it. She's far more convincing than Lana Wachowski. Yeesh.




Beastie Boy, Adam Yauch, MCA, passed away at 47

Forever Intergalactic. Rest in peace, MCA.







Whitney Houston passed away

I'll be honest. I had no idea who Whitney Houston was before she passed away. I'm sure I heard her sing at some point, but I never put a face to the voice. Since I had no idea who she was, I suspected she was actually good, unlike other female artists like Britney Spears and the forehead monster, Rihanna. Sure enough, I looked up Whitney Houston on Wikipedia, and goddamn. That was one talented woman. The Wikipedia article is such a buzzkill though. It's this enormous list of achievements, then in conclusion, "She drowned in the bath as a result of her extensive cocaine abuse." Wikipedia isn't big on dignity, I see.

Neil Armstrong passed away

This still seems like a giant hoax, moreso than the moon landing itself. Neil Armstrong can't die. The guy walked on and likely jiggled his junk on the moon. He's immortal. Armstrong passing away is like Optimus Prime dying. It's just not right or possible. But, the man really did pass away. One of the most important figures in all of history. If you notice a slight change in the seasons in the coming years, it's because Neil Armstrong's balls aren't affecting the tilt of the planet anymore. Rest in peace.

Sally Ride passed away

Neil Armstrong's death largely over shadowed the death of Sally Ride. Lack of equality also played a large role, let's just be honest. She was the youngest person to ever travel to space, and also the first woman to ever go to space. She went higher than that high-altitude balloon with the camera on it, making her more awesome, but only just, admittedly. Sally Ride, the only woman on the planet who could upper cut you with her titties. Rest in peace.

The Miama Cannibal

There was really no way to gracefully include this on the list, so we'll just do it now and get it over with. It was like any other beautiful, sunny afternoon in Miama, Florida. Until a nude Hannibal Lector approached a homeless man on a causeway, engaged in brief polite, albeit awkward conversation, then proceeded to literally eat the man's face. This went on for a while until someone finally shot the fucking guy dead. It was speculated that the cause of the attack was the result of bath salts, which turned the cannibal, Rudy Eugene, into a zombie. Then a toxicology revealed that he was only on marijuana. So I guess weed makes your face delicious. Who knew. My question is, what ever happened to just being fucking insane? He HAS to be on drugs to be crazy?

James Cameron travelled to the bottom of the ocean

To be specific, the bottom of the ocean in this case means the deepest spot, the bottom of the Mariana Trench, also known by its unofficial titles of asshole of the planet, and best hiding spot ever. This is also the same James Cameron who directed that shitty Titanic movie, and the sufficiently underwhelming Avatar. Supposedly the man is an explorer when he's not making films, and custom built a submarine-like capsule to travel to the bottom of the ocean in an effort to discover Cthulu, or the remains of Leonardo DiCaprio.

Sadly all the dive yielded was some soil samples. But fucking badass soil samples. Mount Everest would fit inside that thing, as well as almost 30 Empire State Buildings. Why anyone would be eager to fill Marianas Trench with skyscrapers is beyond me, but it puts it in scale nicely. Now because James Cameron is made of balls, he intends to repeat the dive multiple times. Should the capsule suffer a hull breach, provided if buoyancy matters at that depth, James should float up in a ball several months later.

Costa Concordia

Mankind, having learned nothing from the Titanic, built this big motherfucking boat called the Condordia. So named to express the wish to keep harmony, unity and peace between European nations. What happened next was a cruel and unfortunate metaphor, as the Condordia struck a rock, then tipped on its side like a drunken prom date. How do you hit a rock in the middle of the goddamn ocean? You'd think that would be an easy target to miss.

Fraud in Quebec

Quebec, still having not separated from the rest of Canada, was eager to capture national attention this year in the hopes of remaining relevant, with a series of scandals. I don't know all the specifics behind the scandals, but apparently there was a bunch of money reserved to help the country out of economic downturn, and I guess that money ended up in the hands of certain companies and individuals instead. I can only imagine that they saw the success of Enron executives and thought it would be fun to try. Good thinking, guys. Your insults toward the rest of Canada are perfectly justified. Enjoy your low tuition, cock weasels.

The Presidential Election

On November 6th, 2012, was the 57th presidential election. I know this, because Halo 4 was released on the same day, and because Wikipedia said so. The election pit Barack Obama against the unfortunately named Mitt Romney. The man named after a vagina sadly couldn't realize his dream of treating an entire country like a chequing account, and got his ass handed to him by Obama, proving that americans may not be entirely stupid. Just saying. You guys kind of suck. You almost voted a 72 year old man and a doped up milf to lead your country. Though come to think of it, that would have been kind of cool.

Mitt Romney largely lost the election for his hate campaign against Sesame Street star, Big Bird. Romney, eager to weed out enemies, foreign and domestic. This lost him the crucial adolescent vote, tipping the votes in favour of Obama.

Greece riots

There was a bunch of shit that happened in Europe in 2012. Stuff happened in Syria, Burma and Egypt. Important stuff, I'm sure, but the only country that caught my eye was Greece, when the country erupted in protest against raising taxes for austerity measures. Austerity is basically taking away your shit in an effort to reduce a deficit. The Greek populace didn't take kindly to this, and took to the streets nakedly with weapons and tear gas. It's fair to assume at least one person was naked during the protests.

The riots actually began in 2010, but they've sort of been ongoing. You'd think people would eventually find something better to do, like say, working. I assume that the Greeks still aren't convinced that the recession is a real thing.

Gay marriage legalized

One of the biggest stories this year was Washington legalizing gay marriage. The story was second only to Washington also legalizing marijuana. So now gay people can get married and high as balls at the same time. I assume the inclusion of marijana to the realm of legality was to lessen the blinding effects of gay people macking on each other to overly conservative assholes. What's the big deal about gay people marrying each other anyway? Because the bible hates gay people? Maybe we should introduce a legislation where religious people can't marry each other, because their way of life arbitrarily conflicts with people with superiority complexes. It makes perfect sense, doesn't it?

Kate Middleton pictures released

Oh dear me. Kate Middleton, the Duchess of Cambridge, supposedly has titties and someone took a picture of them while she was on vacation. I'm not sure why the person who took the picture isn't receiving as much flak as she is. That seems more disturbing to me. Is this just because she's part of the royal family now? Fuck them. They're completely irrelevant in society today, they wear stupid hats and their duties are entirely ceremonial. Catherine has all the right in the world to whip her titties out if she so pleases. It's not as if she received bukkake for money or something.

My only complaint is that she didn't get naked infront of me. That is one sexy lady, my god. Way to go, prince Harry Potter or whatever the fuck your name is. I would show her my union jack in a goddamn hurry. Then after I'm finished with her, I'd mack on that sexy ass queen.

Grumpy cat

If you're familiar with the internet at all, you're likely aware of its obsession with cats. There's trash cat, physics cat, ninja cat, serious cat, etc. etc. And then, sometime this year, the greatest cat since hover cat took the internet by storm. Grumpy cat. It's awesome. The thing looks like fucking Mr. Magoo:



Rest assured. This cat hates your ass, and as someone pointed out, does an excellent impression of Jeremy Renner in The Bourne Supremecy.



Gangnam Style

Prior to this song, Korean Pop music was a feared and largely misunderstood subspecies of music. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, Gangnam Style hit the airwaves and won the hearts of millions. It began as a way of trolling people, then it got absurdly popular. Over a billion people have watched the video on youtube, making it the most viewed video ever. Soaring above that bullshit Call Me Maybe song, and Justin Bieber. It's been called the greatest song ever, which I thought was a little misguided, because the best song ever, Macarena by Los Del Rio (bet you didn't know the name of the artist), has already been made.

Gangnam Style is particular noteworthy for its ability to drive people on to unstable furniture and dance, allowing the rest of us to delight in watching other human beings in tragedy.

Giant eyeball found on Florida beach

And now, for the greatest what the actual fuck story of the year that you didn't hear about, and possibly of all time. The title tells you everything you need to know. A giant eyeball washed up on the shores of Florida.



Apparently the eyeball belongs to a sword fish, but that's only half the story. The question that needs to be answered is, how the fuck did it wash up on shore? I like to think that the ocean says to itself once in a while, "This is going to fuck with someone. Let's throw it at dry land." The other theory is an alleged murder on the set of Spongebob Square Pants.

 

And that's all I care to write right now. I look forward to 2013 when a giant fanged penis washes up on the shores of Vancouver. It's nice when stories write themselves.