Don’t Believe the Hype-ochondria July 7, 2009
Posted by troyjen in humor.2 comments
Web MD should come with a warning label i.e. “The surgeon general has found that the content of this site can result in spontaneous cranial combustion for those with a family history of PFD Psychotic Freakout Disorder.”
That was a little long. Lets make it bumper sticker ready. “Web MD, its crack for the Hypochondriac”. Ok, one more – “Web MD, putting the Hype back in Hypochondria one irrational overreaction at a time”.
Yes, there’s a story behind there. Don’t worry, I’ll get there. I’m not a tease. I don’t think there is such thing as a sarcastic, nihilistic tease – except for maybe Sartre, the teenage years. Naa, naa, naa, naa, naa – you can’t catch me – because your whole existence is an illusion. “Jean-Paul, stop inducing an existential crisis on your sister!”
Oh right, the story.
So apparently I have entered the “vision optional” phase of my inevitable decline into patheticness – also known as Dante’s 5th level of dork (the divine emasculation). Come to think of it, “vision optional” is a cool thing to put on your resume if you are applying to be say…… CEO of GM. Hey, worked out well for Rick Waggoner.
Anyway, I woke up last Monday morning with bloodshot eyes – which of course is normal for the sleep deprived Twitter addict. However, when signing on to my daily “mentally vomitting in 140 characters” constitutional something was missing. My ability to clearly read the meaningless blather in front of me. Which meant that I was ahead for the day.
However, rather than cash in my karma winnings, I decided to self diagnose my suddenly blurry state by visiting Web MD – you know, because I really hate me and wanted to engage in some self torture.
And a lovely torture it was.
Within the spate of about 30 minutes, I had convinced myself that I was likely diabetic, with cataracts, lyme disease, and likely in need of a blood transfusion. Oh, almost forgot – a brain tumor is also likely and, I really should turn off my fat switch…..been meaning to do that for awhile (the sarcastic switch is permanently in the on position).
Of course, it never dawned on me that I might have actually, you know, injured my eye…..which turned out to be the case. I somehow managed to scrape my cornea during my sleep. That’s right, even while in REM I was apparently still clutzy enough to poke my eyes out. Not a happy outcome, but better than a brain tumor.
Back to Web MD (Masochistic Devolution). I have always embraced the notion of my inner hippee when proclaiming “yo gonna smoke that?” Wait a second, that’s the wrong phrase…..the one I am looking for is “Knowledge is power”.
While I think this is undeniably true, in the case of Web MD, its not clear that this is a good thing. You know Knowledge is power, but power can submit radiation – especially if you are near power lines, or are a habitual cell phone user. Such radiation could lead to brain tumors. Often the first sign of brain tumors is bloodshot eyes – you should really have that checked out. Oh, and don’t forget to turn off your fat switch.
You get the point.
So, here’s another poorly documented unwanted opinion from the sarcastic blowhard known as Troy. Somethings are better not knowing. Step away from the laptop, pick up the phone, and call a practicing physician (practice makes perfect). Then you can sit on butcher paper, have your blood pressure taken, and be made aware of how overweight you are just to eventually find out you scratched your eye.
Humiliating? Sure. But I’ll take humiliating over hyperventilating any day.
Stomp on It July 1, 2009
Posted by troyjen in Uncategorized.6 comments
Recent pre-meetings to prepare for a meeting, to discuss how to reduce the number of meetings made me reminisce to my beloved days living in the valley of the sun……exposure.
Why exactly to people live in Phoenix? Speaking simply from an evolutionary aspect, its hard to believe that anything naturally selects this beautiful oven as a home, delighting in all that is barren and dry. Yet, simple survival of these inconceivable critters is not enough. They all have to secrete some sort of deadly venom i.e. Topher Grace.
It seems like every year I lived in the devil’s focus group, a new infestation occurred….locus, ants, desert roaches etc. Luckily, because I never lived close to any water (there was a rumor going around that there actually is water in Phoenix), I avoided the Scorpion thing…..A couple of years ago, that infestation was Black Widow spiders.
Now, normally spiders do not bother me. They generally take care of other more annoying insects I’d rather not have around, and, on occasion, provide a delightful shiver of fear to a arachnophobic visitor. But, two years ago, my sweet son (he had not evolved yet into the caffeinated blur he has become and could still be considered sweet) was just beginning to walk and explore.
A black widow bite can be painful, but is not that dangerous to an adult. However, the same cannot be said for a 1 year old.
So, I had a serious predicament. I wanted to get rid of a potential threat to my beloved. However, I didn’t want to use an exterminator who would likely use toxic agents (not a good name for a real estate firm) to resolve the problem, because the toxins might be as dangerous to my begotten as the black widows.
So I sat and “Cost Benefitted” for days. I twisted my mind into a delusional pretzel.
Then one day, somewhat inebriated and frustrated over another sports fan disappointment (I need some new hobbies) I happened upon one of these pesky creatures and, in a fit of annoyance and clumsiness, Forrest Gumped my way into a solution.
I stepped on it.
After repeating this process approximately 10 times, my problem was gone.
So, what have we learned today?
1) Often the best solution to a perplexing issue is the easiest and most obvious?
2) Alcohol is the driving force behind all intellectual breakthroughs?
3) When beset with a problem, always try to stomp the life out of it especially if you wear a size 11 or higher?
4) People aren’t supposed to live in the Desert you moron?
I’ll pick bachelorette #1.
Ok, lets wrap this up. Next time, before looking for an elaborate solution to a “challenge” try the most simple and obvious solution first. If that doesn’t work, then start drinking.
Or get a bigger shoe.
Dancin with Wags the [redacted] Dog June 25, 2009
Posted by troyjen in humor.5 comments
Toot toot, pounding Jager, big red *CRASH*!
A couple of years ago, Greg the Wiggle, known for his yellow couture and unibrow, retired from Da Wiggles because of exhaustion (the faux illness of choice). His yellow moniker passed on to a less talented protege, known as the day the annoying music died.
Ok, I wasn’t the biggest fan of those wacky Australians. The idea that grown men would have to act like imbeciles for money would seem the height of absurdity in anyplace outside of say Provo Utah (that valley is so happy). But, to be fair, in comparison to traditional toddler music (I’m a little teapot et al) the Wiggles is Led Zeppelin.
However, recent news of the REAL (not sure if its true, but that’s beside the point) reason for Greg’s premature departure, makes me want to wiggle.
Recently it has been brought to my attention (heard it on Baby Center – the internets never lie) that the whole “exhaustion” claim was really a ruse. Instead Mr. Yellow was prone to alcohol indulgence and occasional on stage profanity (would pay good money for that video) and thus could Wiggle no more.
Let me tell ya Greg, after spending the week hangin with a rodent hooked on prozac (also known as Mickey Mouse) I feel your pain.
In Mickey land, I have to make nice with this almost certainly unemployable actor who, in the sweltering muck that is Summer in Florida, is wearing a 40 pound “character” outfit. When Mr mouse freak hugs my son – I am apparently supposed to think this is “magical”?
Then there’s this “street parade” populated with actors of similar ability, and choreography rivaling a SuperBowl half time show. Oh, and they looked shocked when I don’t want to join them for some rumba type dance?
Disney fever is a hard drink to swallow……but I discovered it does go down a lot more smoothly with a glass of Courvoisier.
And thus the question of the day – does entertaining children inevitably result in alcoholism (the profanity is a given)?
I mean lets revisit the Wigglers. Jeff is either narcoleptic or has taken Hypoglycemia to a bad place. Anthony has serious issues with consumption and is likely bulemic. Murray, well…..has to endure an entire life being known as “Murray”.
Greg’s drinkin and cussin – and likely a millionaire. I think he wins!
The Pouty Lip Apocalypse June 10, 2009
Posted by troyjen in humor.Tags: apocalypse, humor, models, pouty lips, resident evil, TV
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Its the end of the world as we know it, and she looks FINE!
I’ve never really understood our cultural obsession with the Apocalypse. Why are we transfixed by the concept of end-o-da-world? Has the travesty of the Susan Boyle loss, shaken our belief in modern society to such an extent that we postulate that some zombie/ape/Morlock takeover would be preferable?
Look, I mean, I don’t really want to world to end. Some of my favorite people live there. Alright, I kind of want virtual worlds to end (My Second Life crisis et al) but that’s just because I had a bad experience in the 80’s – one piece of advice…..never cross Max Headrom.
However, this weekend, I had a moment of zenlike enlightenment.
TV is still my main source of intellectual stimulation, and I caught a little documentary like feature on our future post Apocalyptic world……Resident Evil: Extinction. And now, I too am psyched about this planet’s Apocalyptic potential!
You see, apparently the only people to survive the Apocalypse of some kind of zombie disease thing are 18-24 year old super models with pouty lips (luckily the demise of civilization did not reduce access to collagen). Actually, come to think of it, that is probably why most of the men are zombies – sort of like Hooters after a Raider game. Men stumbling awkwardly toward women way out of their league saying things like “ugh, me buy drink you for, ugh”. Of course being male could be considered a zombie like disease anyway.
This just in……biblical scholars now release a glaring mistranslation of ancient Hebrew text. It was really the four “hotties” of the apocalypse. Oh and the number of the beast is really 310 – the area code for Beverly Hills (that Spencer has some nerve).
But alas, all does not end well in this Hypereal depiction of days to come. The majority of the cast is quickly devoured by flesh eating mutants because of their lack of even an ounce of acting ability (pouty lips alone cannot help a plot move forward). Ok truthfully I don’t really know how the movie ends because my wife walked into my little dystopic wonderland, rolled her eyes, and turned the channel to HGTV, Landscapers Challenge.
Death by zombie with attractive scenery, or death by boredom via landscape design?
The Apocalypse just keeps looking better and better!
The Heartburn of America June 2, 2009
Posted by troyjen in humor.Tags: culture, GM, humor, Michael Moore, sarcasm
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GM – Generally Melancholiness.
Yesterday we lost a Giant of American capitalist society. I giant WHAT, I’m not so sure.
To be fair…….wait a second, since when do I care about being fair? Being fair is for legitimate, objective journalistic organizations. You know, like Fox News. I cannot maintain such high ideals.
I write for the obnoxious, juvenile, sarcastic, sadistic minority. Meaning, I write for me – which may have something to do with the fact that more people have a passion for excel macros than visit my blog.
Ok, back to the subject de jour……GM – gesticulating madly.
Gone but not forgotten (trying to forget, but haven’t been able to kill those brain cells yet) it admittedly did leave a GM – Gigantic Mark, on our culture at large producing both Corvette Summer and Michael Moore. It deserves a completely inappropriate sendoff – and I’m as close to an expert on “inappropriate” as you’re going to get……therefore as established cultural critic Pink might say, lets get this party started.
One should be careful of what you say in an Advertisement – its a retrospective sarcasm tree that’s ripe for da picken.
- “Chevrolet, the hearburn of America”. Hopefully Obama has a Alka Seltzer Plus Czar, who can prevent the diarea of America.
- “Dodge trucks are RAM (or is that lamb) tough.” Too bad they’re not Dave RAMsey tough, then they might have understood that for the law of supply and demand to work, there has to be “demand.” Of course, they may have been to large to implement a cash/envelope system – on the other hand it couldn’t have been worse than their own accounting approach.
- “Like a Rock, were as inflexible as can be, Like a Rock, the Japanese never got to me, Like a Rock, our business model’s a tree, Like a Rock.”
Switching (or is that grinding) gears, lets do a little historical revisionism on music. I must admit, this one is a little harsh. Its a good thing I have no sense of proportionality or empathy whatsoever.
- “I love you for your Repo’d Cadillac, two missing seats, pushing from back, stutters down the street, hiding from the girls, staying out of sight, applying for food stamps on a Saturday Night.”
- “Little dead Corvette, baby you lost your money too fast, little dead Corvette, you need a line of credit that’s gonna last.”
Ok, for one second lets pause from this GM – Gothic Monstrosity of a post, and show some empathy where its deserved. Since apparently the whole state of Michigan is unemployed except for Kid Rock (he needs the money to cover Pamela Anderson’s pyschiatric expenses), my virtual heart (its better than the real thing, trust me) goes out to you.
Look on the bright side. Working sucks. It just does. Its supposed to. Silly people for years have been trying to convince us plebians that its fun, that it defines who we are, that you should take pride in your consumption forced labor prison – they’re just as worthless as, well, GM.
I’ll be honest with you – I think you’re awesome! You laugh at inappropriate jokes – including mine (hopefully), you can’t stand your inlaws (no point in pretending) and, most likely, if you have stumbled upon this blog, you have the capacity for independent, irrational, sarcastic thinking. That’s far more than GM – Gelatinous Mass can ever claim.
I would encourage you to GM – Go Merrily on your way – its better than the assembly line. Or maybe GM – Get Mad. Sometimes that’s the only way to change the GM – Gynormous Mess that corporate America has left us and our children, like a gift wrapped present from Pat Boone.
And getting mad could be a cure for heartburn. You never know.
The Monkey Suit Hypothesis May 29, 2009
Posted by troyjen in humor.Tags: humor, hypothesis, monkey, psychiatry, psychology, suite, tom cruise
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Maverick, you give and you give and you give.
An accomplished thespian who showed tremendous depth in character portrayal in theatrical masterpieces such as Days of Thunder (where he played a cocky, young, dashing race car driver) to Top Gun (where he played a cocky, young, dashing fighter pilot) and Mission Impossible (where he played a cocky, “moderately” young, dashing secret agent – that one was a stretch).
Such offerings on the alter of “thinking not required” entertainment for an extensive audience who identify with Forest Gump, would seem more than sufficient for the average cultural philanthropist. But not for Tom. Just because his name is Cruise, doesn’t mean he’s not willing to take it up a notch.
He’s given hope to closeted couch jumpers everywhere. For those wanting to ruin their public persona, he’s provided a roadmap, a guidebook to embracing ridicule.
And of course, almost singlehandedly shown us the way in regards to Psychology and Psychiatry of which he is clearly an expert. He accurately described this silly mirage of book lernin folks to be…..a fake science.
And immediately it was no longer taught in Malibu public schools.
Ok, most of what I have just written could be interpreted as sarcastic (catch that, everything I have ever written could be interpreted as sarcastic) but, on occassion, real life might actually catch up with the thought process of the man whose Business is so Risky. I stumbled upon such an instance recently……and I have named it thus…..
The Monkey Suit Hyothesis.
You see apparently there was a psychology experiment set up where the target of the prank……I mean subject of the experiment (ever notice how closely most psychology experiments resemble a practical joke) is asked to examine a dodgeball type game and count the number of times the ball is passed back and forth by the different teams, one in green and one in white. About midway through the experiment, a “Guy in a Monkey Suit” runs through the game with the requisite “ooh ooh ahh ahh” and chest pounding, then quickly disappears from screen.
Of course, the point of the experiment is…….wait a second. Who cares what the point of the experiment is? Did you really convince someone to dress up in a Gorilla costume ala Trading Places, convince him to act like an imbecile, all in the name of science? Was the distinguished professor “Benny Hill” your mentor? Does your next experiment focus on two guys in a donkey outfit?
And thus, my hypothesis…..if your method of scientific inquiry requires a Monkey costume and/or resembles a Yo Gabba Gabba plot, you’re not just a fake scientist, your an embarrassing one.
AND, you are awarded extra demerits for forcing me to agree with Jerry Maguire on something. Don’t ride into that danger zone!
I Can’t Hear You Now May 20, 2009
Posted by troyjen in humor.Tags: ads, commercials, humor, rant, Verizon
2 comments
Me man – ugh – me no get phone – ugh – me buy some?
Ok, Verizon – I get it. You think I’m really really stupid. For some reason, you think if you magnify that stupidity in TV advertising, that will start an age of enlightenment. That your uber clever ad will inspire me to verbally proclaim “Finally someone “get’s” me. They know that I have the deliberative capability of a 3 year old! I will buy whatever it is they want to sell!”
The latest Ad Noxious which plays Ad Nauseum, and compels me to vociferate Ad Hominems, plays out in a ice cream parlor. It is a playfull metaphor, where sprinkles on an ice cream scoop represent Verizon’s future net worth? Wait that’s not it – it probably represents the number of people who think this ad is entertaining?
Oh right, I almost forgot. I’m stupid! (All men apparently are). There’s no way I can decipher such a complicated metaphor. I shall therefore, dump all of the sprinkles on top of the single ice cream scoop to dramatize my idiocy.
And subsequently, I will engage in a quest to acquire all possible Verizon offerings. Who wouldn’t? Because they understand my inability to grasp proportionality and basic custard etiquette, I’m sure they will create a mono-syllabic contract that I might be able to grasp if I can manage to sound out the words.
Ok, if you wanted to build a case that I am not exactly omniscient, it wouldn’t be difficult to gather reams of circumstantial evidence. But, why would magnifying my inner neanderthal make me want to buy your product? Maybe its just me, but when giving up something I hold deer i.e. my money, I’d rather someone play to my inflated ego, than my pessimistic realism of continual mental devolution.
An example – Captain Morgans.
Look, the Captain is as close to rot gut as rum can be, but its ad campaign promotes its consumers as witty, daring, and somewhat devious. Don’t get me wrong – I know Captain drinkers. The description is anything but accurate. But it is appealing…..and that’s the point!
Ok, maybe you’ve decided that primarily women purchase your little mobile torture device and related cancer inducing communication transmissions. Fine! Forget that whole male demographic thingy. Whatever!
Well, to that, I soundly declare, you little bespeckled wannabe bourgeois brat, I can’t hear you now!
And……I never will again!!
Psyche and Wrong May 13, 2009
Posted by troyjen in humor.Tags: humor, Manny, Mis-California, psyche, sick, wrong
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My entire life I’ve been referred to, quite accurately, as sick and wrong. However, a high percentage of those references were related to my creative take on morality i.e. I coined the phrase WWMRD – What Would Mickey Rourke Do?
Rather than try and change this popular perception being a sick and wrong spokesperson by doing something traumatic (like say introspection), I have decided to leverage it, like my mortgage, making it available to the world for appropriate devaluation.
Sick
2009, being the year of pain and puke (ok, its the Ox but for a Monkey like myself, same diff) Karma has rewarded me for years of questionable ethics with a recurring case o da flu, minus the swine.
The cruel joke of my perennial ode to mucus, is that occasionally I will start feeling better – driven by an unwise mixture of over the counter meds, and old prescriptions – only for the infection rapidly enveloping my ear drum to yell “Psyche” with a frat boy derogatory lilt in its voice (moment of satori – all my internal voices replicate vocal patterns of jerks I hated in High School).
After months of doctor avoidance techniques based mostly on denial i.e. “everybody snorts 3 doses of Nasonex in the morning these days ” – a visit from the bile fairy, while in Barnes and Noble no less convinced me that a trip to the white coated one would be prescient. Oh, a tip to my fellow consumers – if someone is barreling down the escalator damning a flood of puke in their facial reservoir with a sieve like finger technique, you may want to, you know, move and stuff.
Ok, why does a visit to the family doc require a certain amount of ritual, no matter what your ailment? Why does sinus pressure require a weigh-in? Apparently your friendly physician needs to ensure you are sufficiently humiliated to ensure you will actually be receptive to their quack medical advice. Of course, then comes the blood pressure check. I did not realize my nasal passages are connected to key arteries – gives a whole new meaning to the phrase full of snot (my parents were not profane, but somehow I learned on my own – that’s right, I’m an over achiever).
Alright, I sorta get the weight and blood pressure “thing” ……but from my perspective, the colonoscopy was completely unnecessary.
Luckily, I have a new verbal weapon to put my “saint in surgical garb” on the defense
Medical Marijuana.
Look, I’ve never had a malady that came even close to requiring Cannibis Care, but that’s not really the fun part anyway. The fun part is simply posing the query, and watching Doogie Houser squirm. “Who feels uncomfortable now doc”? By the way, if you live in Cali, this may not work. You better be ready to go Michael Phelps on that baby.
To wrap this section up, the visit did end on a high note. Barnaby Jones gave me a “probably shouldn’t be legal but what the heck” drug powerful enough to kill a small horse.
Wrong
Sticking with the powerful drug thing, lets jump over to our old pal, Crazy Manny. Although now that I think of it, Manny’s drugs should probably be referred to as “sensitive” instead of powerful.
Look, use of performance enhancing drugs is hardly headline news these days, but the fact that Manny’s choice of performance enhancement was a Female Fertility drug seems awfully suspicious. Someone should check into any sudden bulk payments from Comedy Central because these jokes are almost too easy. A sampling:
- Ramirez steps up to the plate, its a 3, 2 count, runners on first and third, his ovulation cycle is at its peak……
- Trainers have recently refused to work out the kinks in Manny’s hamstrings – creeped out by the fact that Manny kept referring to such sessions as “tender moments” and sending them Hallmark cards.
- Waiter: How would you like your eggs? – Manny: Fertilized
Ok, another Cali gem……that would be “Mis-California”. She certainly has a flair for linguistic Anarchy (with a Rebel conjunction, she cry more, more, more). Opposite marriage? Opposite of what?
I would consider Hugh Heffner’s lifestyle to be the opposite of marriage. And while I’m sure deep inside his inner self is crying, most men would agree that’s a small price to pay for having part of your swimming pool referred to as the “Grotto”.
I guess truly opposite marriage would likely have to involve some alternate species considerations – and that never really works out…..ask Kermit.
Of course, now that I think of it, I have probably been practicing opposite marriage. My wife is smart, articulate, polite, and sophisticated – you could even say my polar opposite.
I just realized that all of my “wrong” topics were about “the other” not myself. What a coincidence. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure there are times that I’ve been wrong, I just don’t remember any – A pleasant side effect to my sinus tranquilizers, convenient memory loss.
To sum up…..Sick, most certainly but sufficiently medicated that I don’t care. Wrong, Manny & Mis-Cali – probably me as well once my memory returns. On the other hand, maybe I should learn from Manny and get in touch with my fertility…..
Psyche!
Painfully Funny April 29, 2009
Posted by troyjen in humor.Tags: Golic, humor, pain, sadism, waxing
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“Yooooooooow, Kelly CLARKSON!”
The most famous (or is that infamous), quote from The 40 Year Old Virgin where a lovely little waxing turns our poor little Catalyst into a Man-o-lantern.
In a Warholeon effort for life to imitate art, Mike Golic – of the ESPN sports commentary show “Mike and Mike in the Morning” had a waxing of his own this morning because he lost a NCAA bracket wager to his co host. To say the loss was painful is not a metaphor.
Ok, but here’s the weird part……I scheduled extra time in my day to watch it, and I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Look, at this point in my blog history, announcing I’m a bit of a Sadist is hardly alarming – although for the most part Sado Masochist is a more apt description. The part that is alarming is that most of America would watch with me, and probably will today over YouTube, and chortling in perfect harmony.
Which begs the question, why is certain types of pain – when happening to other people of course - funny? Are we a nation of sadists? And if so, where’s the line where its no longer funny, and just, painful……or maybe even repulsive?
Some wince inducing examples……
The Three Stooges. Truly the pioneers of comedy via injury. If you don’t think Larry Moe and Curly are funny, than you are probably one of those “mature” people I’ve read so much about. While I’m unsure on Einstein and Hawking (although his voice is undeniably sexy), there is simply no doubt Larry Moe and Curly are pure genius. Of course, their humor is based on pretend pain, not real pain, which might be the line.
America’s Funniest Home Videos: The TV show that pioneered the random object to the groin humor. Ok, this is defintely less funny than the Stooges. I think its at least partially because you know Bob Saget actually has a really perverse sense of humor, yet he is being limited to the lamest jokes ever written by man. That and the distinct feeling that all of your fellow viewers are Wallmart regulars – the sixth sense…..trailer awareness.
Don’t Want to Name This One: I’ve tried to avoid talking about this, but feel compelled to do so. Apparently there are gruesome pictures floating around the internet of a fatal car accident of a teenage girl, causing her family unspeakable trauma. Seriously, if you are compelled to view or forward this monstrosity please consider living on another solar system and/or universe. I don’t want to live on the same planet as you.
Wow, what a downer way to end what I was hoping to be a relatively humorous blog…….unpredictability is funny though right?
In fact, one could say its Painfully Funny.
