Richard Parker

So I finished Life of Pi last night. I must admit that it was entertaining. I started on page 50 at about 11:30 last night, and ended up finishing it around 3am. I really just couldn’t put it down, especially once Pi was on the raft and trying not to get eaten by the Bengal Tiger. The book is basically about a guy stuck on a lifeboat in the Pacific Ocean with a Bengal Tiger. It’s crafted as a biography type of story, but I’m trying to decide if it is pure fiction or based on a true story.

I have previously made my contempt for all things Ann Landers and Dear Abby known on this site. However, today’s column illustrates so perfectly the retard-advice columnist symbiotic relationship that I could not resist to puke it up here:

DEAR ABBY: I am a 37-year-old single mom of one. For the past seven years I’ve led a secret life, because the man I’m in love with is married. (I’ll call him Mike.) Mike made a commitment to me to love me forever, and I believe him. He gives me the world.
My family loves Mike to death. They think we should be married because we make such a “perfect couple.” They do not know he’s married. I’ve kept this secret from them all these years. Mom went to her grave not knowing Mike has a wife.

I should mention that this man is 18 years my senior. When I met him, his marriage was “on the rocks.” Mike was up-front with me about how he would never divorce because of his kids. He doesn’t love his wife.

It’s been a wonderful seven years. He’s the only guy I’ve ever loved. I can’t get enough of him. Should I sit tight and hope a divorce is in the future? — I’VE GOT A SECRET IN TEXAS

I have bolded the really important/retarded aspects of the letter for those who are “on the go” and can’t waste time reading all of this dreck. Below are the important parts analyzed:


  • …is married: OK, I already know where this is going. Let me write a Cliff’s Notes of your life: born, dropped on head, ate paint chips, fell off merry-go-round, didn’t use condom, had kid, had affair with married man for SEVEN YEARS, died (probably in some sort of farming and/or zoo-related accident).
  • Mike made a commitment to me to love me forever, and I believe him: I have never, and I mean ever, believe anyone when they say “blah blah forever”. Forever is a long time kids, and this champion of reason and logic is probably just good enough in bed that “forever” equals “seven years”. The cliched nature of this statement makes me really want to believe that Dear Abby was making shit up, but the part of me that knows that Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen are still somehow making money somewhere knows not to underestimate the collective stupidity of the human race.
  • Mike was up-front with me about how he would never divorce because of his kids, and Should I sit tight and hope a divorce is in the future?: Ahh, the real reason for this posting. Look Einstein, I’ll hand it to you that you are dumb. A class of dumb never seen in a non-extinct species. Phylum idiot, Subphylum fuckingidiot. But for you to answer your own dumb question in your own dumb letter makes me want to drive my car off a bridge if only to rid myself of a world where you may be living. Did he not say that he wasn’t going to divorce ever? He did? THEN PERHAPS YOU SHOULDN’T WAIT FOR HIM TO DIVORCE! I can see the concepts of “forever” and “never” are of a baffling theory-of-relativity-level toughness for you, so I’ll help you out with my own advice: yes, wait as long as he tells you to. It may be never, but he said he’d love you forever. And while you’re waiting, please attempt not to breed again. There are plenty of you as it is.

–whazz on

By the way [Update at 1:45pm]

I was just thinking about something, and I bet when she says “For the past seven years I’ve led a secret life, because the man I’m in love with is married. (I’ll call him Mike.)” that the guy’s name really is Mike. Really. I’ll bet. No really. pffft, stupid bitch.

–whazz on

8 Miles of Crazy Nights [Update at 8:46am]

Just wanted to drop a line as to how stupid I think 8 Crazy Nights will be. On the radio commercials, they’re going on and on about “Adam Sandler does the voices of 4 crazy characters, and there’s a new version of the Channucah Song!!” You don’t need to tell me I spelled Chonukah wrong. I know but I’m far too lazy to look it up. Anyways, the thing that gets my goat is that all “four” of the goddamn characters that Sandler voices sound exactly the goddamn same. In one he’s all regular like “awahgga-wahgga-doo!”, then in another he just does the exact same thing except up an octive, or sounding like an old man. The pitch change but the inflection, accent, and everything else stays the same. Jesus Christ, South Park is not a bastion of cartoon-dom, but aat the very least characters sound different from each other. This whole movie is just a fucking ego stroke for that one trick bitch Sandler. I’ll always like Billy Madison and Happy Gilmore, but I’ll always hate everything that came after. And the Hannucha Song, while somewhat interesting as a sketch on Saturday Night Live, is not the social phenomena that Sandler thinks it is. Does anyone else see that he’s just telling us which famous people are Jews and which aren’t? I can do that for Christ’s sake:

You know that one guy, he looks like Fu Manchu/Well I’m telling you right now, Fu Manchu ain’t no Jew/And the really gay guy, the one on Will & Grace/I’m not expecting matzoh when I eat over at his place/Here comes Chanuicah, its time for Chonucah/If you’re Dr. Dre-onicah, then grab you bag of chronica

dumb.

–whazz on

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