Josh Verse Jason

Stoichiometry -- not just a sexy word to say

Thu, 04 Sep 2008 16:59:37 -0400

We always knew not to mix water and potassium, but who would’ve thunk it that their European personas would act it out so well?

In the sequel, one can only hope for a rendition of mixing hydrochloric acid (HCl) and a metal, say aluminum (Al). Let’s hope HCl is a slim heroin-chic model a la K. Moss, and Al is a 750-pound silverback gorilla with an interest in destruction.

And what’s that HCl + Al you speak of? In layman’s terms, that’s a 2-liter bomb — you know, the kind you made as a kid.

Or, if you’re bored with explosions, how about one part carbon to one part oxygen. Take a bountiful whiff of that intoxicating concoction, better known as CO. It has the aroma of 1,000 nothings, but the effect of 1,000 trampling elephants. Make sure to walk towards the light.

********

One should note the cultural differences between this euro-production and what an American production would look like. Love it? Go here: give me some action, Marie Curie.

Baltimore Cop Snuffs Out Public Enemy #1

Wed, 03 Sep 2008 15:54:35 -0400

Remember this cop? Baltimore citizens can rest assured. Cop seizes terrorist and possible WMD devices during his standard patrol of the waterfront.

Tune in:

Peppa, Peppa, Peppa -- RNC Security Goes Beserk -- the failings of granted freedoms afoot and other bi-partisan convention madness

Wed, 03 Sep 2008 15:46:00 -0400

So, she had a flower and evoked a silly 60’s idealism. So, she was persistent in her offering of it. So, she wasn’t dressed in Darth Vadaresque attire. So, she could’ve been a flaming liberal — an enemy of the state, no doubt. So, so what?

Politics not at play: DNC “security” does it too.

Toby Houndsmith, dog and trusty companion, takes a moment to...

Wed, 03 Sep 2008 15:37:00 -0400

Toby Houndsmith, dog and trusty companion, takes a moment to stretch the summer day out of his withers. From field to field, the day had been long, nearly unbearable. But the hay bailing is done, and someone awaits the both of them — driver and dog — at home.

I was heading out, just beginning my night. I hadn’t worked, and yet my body still ached. The flat pain of something worked my gut, and to alleviate the flare-ups of what I had so long suppressed, I watched the truck glide seamlessly down the country road, Toby going to a better place than I.

The film’s edge curled, blurring what had been far left. ...

Fri, 29 Aug 2008 15:43:24 -0400

The film’s edge curled, blurring what had been far left. And much like the mountain rim, the film’s end reminds us of the boundaries in this world — the defining lines between this and that, what makes it and what does not.

And as one would, I pontificated lengthily and wholeheartedly. Where did I stand in this world of boundaries — within the defining lines or outside of such?

I sneezed, that early July pollen irritating my nose’s membranes. It was an absent-minded gesture, even an involuntary one, but it would change me forever. I sneezed again, happy with my body’s short-lived protest.

Charlie leaned forward, determined to set a sharp contrast...

Fri, 29 Aug 2008 15:35:09 -0400

Charlie leaned forward, determined to set a sharp contrast between the foreground and background. It was a subtle gesture at the moment, but one that would change the landscape of the photograph.

Yes, Charlie was now the photograph’s subject, and his newfound duty made him anxious.

A Humdinger!

Thu, 28 Aug 2008 09:45:12 -0400

Enjoy your personal freedoms? Well, enjoy this:

Sexy People Shenanigans and Radical Hair -- the 80's and beyond, a whipping post for humor

Wed, 27 Aug 2008 11:14:00 -0400

Sometimes, at the end of a long day, a rainbow appears, and at the end of that rainbow is a brimming pot of gold, and at the bottom of that pot of gold is a happy-go-lucky leprechaun, and in the hands of that happy-go-lucky leprechaun is a laptop, and on that laptop is a web browser opened to a web page of great historic implications and even greater piss-your-pants funny.

So, strap on the shades because the light is bright from this baby:

(It’s clickable!)

I stopped to help the festive gringo, despite his party-boy...

Tue, 26 Aug 2008 16:07:01 -0400

I stopped to help the festive gringo, despite his party-boy appearance. It would be a monumental desicion, one that would send me adrift on a course for the better. Though, I knew none of this.

Chuckles, on the other hand, seemed aware of much more than I, and with two outstetched fingers, he signaled that two become one — that very soon our fates were going to take a hard left.

Pop v. Soda: the debate that divides a nation

Thu, 21 Aug 2008 15:19:58 -0400

Having grown up on the hardened streets of a little post-industrial C-town, I have come to appreciate the lilting qualities of northern speak. The cadence the flows from the mouths of my fellow Northern Ohioans is a sweet, sweet sonance, easily compared to the harp’s arpeggio.

Years ago, I moved south to a land where “soda” is rather vociferously preferred to “pop.” Often, when ordering at a restaurant or bar, I am ribbed jollily when ordering a pop. “Hee-hee,” they laugh behind my back.

Sometimes I dream of revoultion, of countering with a pinwheel of fists, of smashing each little cow-head square between the eyes. But, instead, a take a deep breath, settle down, and drink my delicious, delicious pop. Such sweet nectar.

The whole topic is logistically infuriating. After all, “pop” makes sense — it’s onomatopoeic.

Well, ye’ foolhardy bastards, it appears the majority rules on this one. Finally a study worth funding, and one worthy of JvJ raving. Looks like “pop” is king of the land. And as king, it demands your reverence. So “pop” it is — and you best mind your majesty.

And looks like Cuyahoga county, home of the burning river and other greats, is the capital.

The sign in the parking lot dismayed me. The streets of this...

Thu, 21 Aug 2008 14:56:40 -0400

The sign in the parking lot dismayed me. The streets of this little border town apparently forbade you from standing on your motorcycle. Good thing I had a comfortable seat and the know-how to ride sitting down. It was a small setback, but one I’d overcome with positive thinking and sheer gusto.

The taste of atomic frosting and other insensitivities of war

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 16:36:28 -0400

They’d soon find themselves bloated and sluggish, unable to walk across the room and push the detonate button. The celebratory cake had done them in. They had eaten too much, and several million civilians would live to see another day.

There were fireworks outside, that I remember. But, I only...

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 16:12:00 -0400

There were fireworks outside, that I remember. But, I only recalled such an insignificant detail because the pop and crackle of the distant pyrotechnics scared the dog and interrupted the sound of the coffeemaker. It was the fourth of July, and I was thinking about going for a ride on my motorcyle.

The steak was delicious, but the lingering distate in my mouth...

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 16:07:00 -0400

The steak was delicious, but the lingering distate in my mouth remained. It seemed the only thing that would change it would soon come: a long night of wandering and a certain darkness outside the windows.

Bouncing rocks, fists of steel, and other madness from S. Trek archives

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 15:54:00 -0400

Stay tuned for next week’s featured fisticuffs.

Top Pork

Mon, 18 Aug 2008 15:45:00 -0400

Top Pork:

The end is the best part — just wait for it.

The Olympian's Victorious Leap

Fri, 15 Aug 2008 09:54:00 -0400

The Olympian climbed the diving board’s ladder, the long view of anxious spectators widening in front of him. The hum of the audience died. A bird changed direction overhead, flew south.

He considered his years of training, the arduous workouts in the gym, the long runs under the Arizona sun, the plaguing injuries of an overworked athlete, the unfathomable accident suffered by his coach.

Today wasn’t for him. Today was for the late coach Thompson. Today was for victory – for a perfect ten.

He jiggled his butt, the red Speedo working over each cheek like frosting on a cake, and raised his hands above his head. He felt the light Beijing breeze tickle the hollows of his armpits. He went through the routine in his head. He opened his eyes, looked down at the water – whispered, “beautiful muffin,” his good luck phrase. He leapt.

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

VICTORY!!

And to yon pearly gates one may enter, but only upon writing one's name

Wed, 13 Aug 2008 09:46:00 -0400

I always like to give JvJ subscribers the first go at any great deals I know of. Here’s a sundry of items I’m giving away or selling as I make my big move to the other side of town.

Big Couch
Little Couch
Drum Set

While the items themselves are timelessly stylish and much coveted, it seems the descriptions have tripped up some of the craigslist freeclub members.

Responding to this ad, one lady wrote: “We’re all adults. Is it only for kids?” Apparently reading is not one of her favorite scholastic exercises. I wrote her back and explained the couch was actually an airplane and would better suit a skilled pilot.

Responding to this ad, a lady requested the couch be hers but not the throw pillow on the right. Free isn’t negotiable in my book, so I replied rather curtly, “Sorry, pillow is attached to couch emotionally. Must be love.” I haven’t heard back yet.

Ah, my poor drum set, soon to be bludgeoned and clumsily buffeted by some adolescent heathen. I threw in the MC Hammer reference to dissuade the younger, less-skilled generation. One guy simply wrote, “I met MC Hammer a long time ago,” but didn’t express any interest in the set. Why bother emailing me that? I responded, against my better judgment, “I have MC Hammer in my closet. He’s yours if you buy the drums.”

A shift in gears: when posting the ads, I got the computer-generated word set that vetted whether I was a human or a bot. Though I’d rather be the latter, I usually play along with this game. Holy dogshit, Batman. Look at this rather foreboding message. Cleveland, my home, my mistake on the lake – repent, for judgment day is coming!!?!!

Can’t read – then get up in its face:

Greetings from Indianapolis – soaking up that Midwestern sun and smearing on the balm

Tue, 12 Aug 2008 14:35:00 -0400

Awhile back, I received this email from one of those jerk-off travel websites (read: Travelocity) that try to pawn off “hot” airfare. I’m somewhat amused by their usual pitches: “come lay (sic) on the white sands of Hawaii” or “the music of Nashville will capture your soul.” However, this email from the other week stumped me:

“A few reasons to book your trip to Indianapolis now.”

Off the top of my head, I could come up with about zero, give or take. Curious, I opened the email. Via over-ambitious language and charming adjectives, I was directed to some cheap hotels – essentially crumbling concrete blocks – in the historic downtown and a pitch for visiting the home of “Midwestern bard” John Cougar Mellencamp. My eyelid twitched, purely a coincidental muscle spasm. All of this was hardly intriguing.

First off, the marketing team at Travelocity must be huffing ether and licking toads. You’re gonna have to try a hell of a lot harder to pitch Indianapolis.

Then, without warning, I came across this: an Indianapolis-based unicorn dating service.

Why unicorns instead of girls? Here’s their 10-point argument:

Sold.

Just a couple of dudes wanting to hang out -- rare craigslist gem unearthed

Tue, 12 Aug 2008 09:21:00 -0400

Party Mansion!!! — Nothing Sexual.

Sorry, no fat dudes allowed.