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observations

Why We Need Rape Jokes

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July 20, 2012
observations
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I’m sure everyone knows this by now since it’s been on the news for like 800 hours straight, but Daniel Tosh recently got a lot of flack for making a rape joke, or more specifically, taunting a girl who told him rape jokes are never funny. I don’t really like Daniel Tosh or find him amusing so I’m not personally vested in this, but I’m bringing it up because he is just the latest in a slew of people who have been criticized for making some sort of humorous comment regarding sexual assault. Even our very own Too Much Fire has come under, ahem, fire, for a rape joke (of the bicycle variety, mind you).

Look, rape jokes aren’t always funny by any means, just like dead baby jokes and racist jokes and holocaust jokes aren’t always funny. Obviously, a rapist making a rape joke wouldn’t be very funny, and a racist telling a black joke would just be plain racist and sad. And some jokes just suck, but it’s not necessarily because they are offensive. There’s this weird, false belief going around that a joke has to be injected with and slathered in social awareness for it to be good, and that couldn’t be further for the truth.

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Love Without Craft

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July 2, 2012
observations
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If you have been offered a warranty for something, did you ever ask the salesperson why it exists? If you do, they will most likely reply:

“In case this item breaks, you can get a new one for free!”

There are two very interesting things about that response:

1. It’s misleading. The warranty is always measured by the shelf life of a product. If your computer has a three year warranty, it means the company who made it is saying that their product will probably break down about 3.5 years from now. That is how they make money. That is why warranties are popular.

2. It totally disregards any notion that this product can be fixed on its own. In fact, look around your apartment. Is there anything you see that you know how to fix? The remote? Your couch? Your iphone? (here’s a youtube video of how to replace your iphone battery on your own. notice that it’s impossible and you revoke your warranty the minute you attempt to do it)

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parenting – helping parents turn kids into little douches since 1987

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May 31, 2012
observations
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parenting magazine february 2012

Ed. Note – The latest submission to TMF is history in the making. Why? It’s our first second submission from a female. And this diatribe against Parenting bring some serious fire. So, to all the ladies who are loyal TMF readers, this one’s for you — as long as you don’t think your snot-nosed kid will be the next Steve Jobs…

I have lots of problems with the local post office. Over the years they’ve lost packages I’ve sent, delivered stuff to the wrong address, and subjected me to horrendous, hour-long waits in line. But by far the worst offense has been their insistence on putting Parenting Magazine in my mailbox each month. Since I can’t bring myself to actually flip through the magazine long enough to find the publication’s contact information so I can ask them to count me out of their circulation, I continue to be assaulted monthly by stuff like this (above).

Parents are already notoriously delusional about how their kids are the best thing ever, and Parenting Magazine feeds this terrifying fire by telling them that they can raise the next Silicon Valley oligarch. This is just depressing because most their special little angels will grow up to be absolutely average in every possible way. Not to mention that the child in this cover photo is making me straight up NERVOUS. Moving on; it gets worse:

parenting magazine

In case your little jerks aren’t entitled and superficial enough yet, make sure you dress them like the daughter of Xenu’s first couple, or the son of the dude from Bush. Also, the nineties are calling. They want your diaper bag back. How embarrassing!

Jonah Lehrer: NOT on ADDERALL

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May 12, 2012
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Jonah Lehrer is the man. Read all his books, including his new one, but this one sucked for one specific reason. The whole book is about how the brain processes creativity, so naturally, I assumed they were going to tell me why Adderall makes me into the greatest human being ever, with predictive and creative powers only seen in superhero movies. instead, I get this:

“Many stimulants taken to increase attention, such as caffeine, Adderall, and Ritalin, seem to make epiphanies much less likely.”

WHAT YOU SAY?

Everybody knows this isn’t true, Jonah. It’s the opposite, and to prove it, I just so happened to be reading this book on Adderall as a break between script shit, and he had a couple “insight” puzzles for the reader to figure out.

IV = III + III

the task is to move a single line so that the false arithmetic statement becomes true.

You figure it out yet? ADDERALL DID.

Oh, okay, so that was the easy one, Jonah? Fine, they threw me this after.

III = III + III

Adderall solved this one even faster.

Fuck Jonah Lehrer. ADDERALL IS KING OF YOU.

Post your answers in the comments if you figure any of those out.

in defense of denying your friend a ride to the airport

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April 10, 2012
observations
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The other night, I was at my apartment having a boisterous conversation with one of my dear friends. We were joking, we were laughing, we were exchanging ideas. We were tremendously stoned. At one point, I felt nearly possessed by a seemingly demonic and painful belly laugh which gave me the best abdominal workout I have had in years. In the true sense of the phrase, we were having a gay old time.

Not long after I wiped several tears of mirth from my eyes, my friend suddenly altered his tone, shifted in his chair, became very serious and proceeded to tell me that he needed a ride to the airport on Sunday morning. My immediate response was, “What time?”

“My plane leaves at 9:30,” he said, “so I probably need to get to the airport around 8.”

In the morning.

On a Sunday.

At that point, the joyous demon was completely exorcized from within me, and replaced with a
sense of fluster as I tried to think of some sort of an excuse that would relieve me from this ‘duty.’ I was too stoned to know how I would wiggle out of this one if I was of a sober mind.

“The thing is, I made plans to go out on Saturday night, and I’m just not sure if I’m really going to be able to wake up that early,” I said. The expression on his face was as if I had just confided in him the terrible habit I had of raping little boys. He said nothing, and I began to back-peddle.

“Well. Is there anyone else who might be able to take you?” He shifted again and opened his mouth but said nothing.

I tried a different, more honest, philosophical approach. “Am I obligated to take you to the airport?”

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you are not my peer. you are my servant.

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April 9, 2012
food, observations
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I like sushi restaurants. Not only because I love sushi, but because when I go out to eat I like my waiters to be subservient, invisible and attentive. And I like them to bow to me at the end.

I was out to dinner the other night at some Hollywood hotspot restaurant — the opposite of low-key. That part was fine, because I was with a gaggle of beautiful girls, I was only one of two guys, I was wearing a new suit, and I was making jokes on the way there that were landing. Simply put, I felt the part.

Though we had made reservations well beforehand, we arrived and were asked to wait in the bar area while they prepared our table. We unquestioningly followed orders, especially because the orders were to start drinking — the most important item on my agenda anyway.

Just after ordering a Scottish Mule, an anxious hostess tapped me on the shoulder to alert me that our table was ready. Before I could turn around to inform the bartender, the hostess was already meandering off through the restaurant presumably toward our table, and I had to rush after her like Alice chasing the White Rabbit. It was as if she were in a race with another hostess who was escorting an entirely different party toward the same table and whoever got there first won the spot.

Apparently we won. My friends were not far behind me, and soon enough we were all seated in an overly large rectangular table which basically fragmented our party into two sections, as one end of the table was entirely too far away to converse with the other. This would be fine in a situation with 10 or so guests, but it was only seven of us.

Our waitress was hot and blonde, which was not surprising since being beautiful is most definitely a prerequisite for attaining a job at this particular restaurant. Unfortunately, I believe the only other prerequisites are that you must have aspirations to be an actress or model and thus you must also find your job as a waitress to be a terrible but necessary inconvenience. Needless to say, she had other passions that did not include having to get things for other people in a timely fashion.

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