Things That May Have Contributed to the US Economic Meltdown

Key to economy left on subway.

Too many fucking Wayans.

Cardboard cut-out of George W. Bush replaced with actual George W. Bush in 2002.

Financial leadership farmed to CEOs with no working knowledge of finance or leadership.

Offshore financial drilling operations failed to penetrate speculated cash-shale deposits.

US financial system quietly converted to worthless dollars many years ago.

'Free-For-All Financial Fuckfest' economic model somehow flawed.

Shit costs money, man.

Not enough Wayans.

The Liberal Media (all 3 of them)

Not enough brush-clearing in Crawford.

Like an unleashed dog, free market ran wild and unfettered before being crushed by a van in front of the Peterson's house.

Not enough enough stress-ball-squeezing, axe-body-spray-smelling, power-broking asstards in the financial sector.

Culture of irresponsibilty and lack of oversight fostered by current administration led to...nah, that can't be it—probably communists.

Things I Have Found While Walking

As an American who does not have a driver's license, I often find myself walking places, sometimes in the rain, sometimes while crying. Seriously, walking is great, I totally recommend it. Unless, of course, you need to get somewhere, then I suggest you find a ride.

I especially like walking through alleys because I like seeing the true side of the city, the snarls of powerlines and shoddy masonry, the haphazard do-it-yourself patios threatening to spill onto the cracked and uneven asphalt. And although I'm not a dumpster diver, I have found some pretty cool things discarded in alleyways:

A black metal-lattice shelf: now sitting in my music/art/storage room, holding up my home-brewing supplies, awaiting that day when I reinvigorate my erstwhile beer-making hobby.

An acoustic guitar: played for a day, then the neck snapped off. I put it back in the dumpster from whence it came, and someone else took it home, snapped neck and all.

A bike: an attempted gift, rescued from the dumpster, for my girlfriend (sorry ladies: this classy dude is taken!) The bike was rejected.

A television: It worked for awhile, then started emitting a high-pitched whine that, at first, I was half convinced was entirely manufactured by my psyche. Then the tube went out. Easy come, easy go.

But, so far, nothing tops the gem I discovered while walking through the alley behind my work today:



Yes, that's an elk leg. I'm not sure how I would feel about finding the rest of the elk on my walk home.

A Very Stupid Post 3: Face 'fun'

So a friend (the one who helped me tunnel out of that Eritrean prison with shoehorns - more on that later) showed me this site: http://flashface.ctapt.de/. I promptly drew my own face, but only after drawing these two faces:

1) 'Amelie' star Audrey Tautou's 1962 Omaha 'Huskers!' yearbook photo:


And, 2) Conan O'Brien with down syndrome:


So, visit this website, and draw something fairly offensive and insensitive, and send it to me here.

Reasons Why I May Not Win This Nationally Televised Beauty Pageant

Shouldn't have punched Celebrity Judge Jimmy Carter in the neck

Forgot to shave 'flip-flop zone'

Thong bikini worn backwards

Seig Heil-ing Minnie Mouse tattoo visible through mesh 'CLAMDIGGIN' t-shirt

Talent showcase: breakbelching not as impressive as in rehersals

When asked 'What does the American Dream mean to you?', should not have thrown up

Perhaps looking directly into the camera and pledging to murder Al Pacino should only have been done once

Totally unprepared for rattlesnake cage match with Miss Idaho

Should not have had that second helping of Szechuan bison enchiladas last night

How to Make a Blodge Under Duress

Blodges are hard to make. You need to have something to say, you need to have a style, and—most importantly—you must update your blodge every single day. Of course, I satisfy only 5 of these 7 requirements, but that's at least 87%, so I think I still win.

However, in defense of my "oh-hey-lets-not-post-shit-for-a-week" philosophy, I'd like to explain a crisis gripping the Estates at Pixel Creek household. You see, we have a massive infestation of cute. It's a fucking crisis:



OH THE HUMANITY. You may not think .25 pounds of cute is bad but, people, it's...BAD. Especially when the infestation is as interested in cuddling and purring as it is in biting your toes while you attempt to sleep.



AH DEAR SWEET JESUS. So, if you want to start one of these blodges that's sweeping the intersphere, make sure you have purged your house of horrible, horrible, delicious and needy cute things. Make sure, also, that you don't need to get up early to take public transportation to Boulder for a business meeting, because that just won't work, man.

Also, heed the opinions of others. Here is one reaction to the current infestation as exhibited by a mainstay on the Pixel Creek scene:



...these are the types of faces my grandfather makes when notified that dinner will be occurring at 7:30 instead of 4:45. Sadly, that is not a joke. Anyway. Hopefully this infestation will be somehow addressed soon. As it is, my main plan of defense is just to giggle and poke the cute thing in it's soft, squishy belly. What hath God wrought.

Coke vs. Pepsi

I've had occasion to indulge in an utterly pointless interior dialog about the merits of Coke vs. Pepsi; I often drink neither. These instances usually happen while I'm waiting in line at the taco place, wondering why they serve one instead of the other...did someone harbor a preference when setting up the business?

Did some eager distribution salesman pester them with sales calls until they relented? Did they go to the mall in the 80s and take place in the Pepsi Challenge, carrying forth the scars into their adult years when restaurant founding blossomed from dream into reality? How does one choose?

For me, it's all about the words. 'Coke' is terse and matter-of-fact, while 'Pepsi' sounds like someone with a lip problem was trying to say something else. Case closed, let us all get on with the real debates: soft serve vs. fuel injection.

Next up: Dominos vs. Pizza hut vs. Eating a Handful of Dogshit and Sand and Tomato Sauce.