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Tales of a Post-Grad Nothing

Friday, November 26, 2004

Happy Day After Turkey Day Readers! (probably only Steve)

Yesterday served as my first away-from-family Thanksgiving, but I'm saving this story for another day...a day when my vocabulary level is above that of a four year old.

Poop. poop. boobies. poop.

Out of my system - moving on. Today I want to talk about how we poor kids in France have no TV. Well, it's not that we have no TV, it's that we have very little TV and certainly no good TV. We basically have two shows, one called Gloire et Fortune which is modeled off of one of the American reality shows. Anyways, Gloire et Fortune Paris style features an average-looking man who is surrounded my un-averagely hot women and really bizarre men. Basically every episode involves Average Man dressing up in a different silly costume and performing an interpretive dance. Personally I've always been afraid of interpretive dance, but that may be because I was told I "wasn't primal enough" for modern dance as a child. I haven't bathed for 3 days...how's THAT for primal? Got you by the perfectly toned balls on that one Royal School of Dance!

The other show we have is Star Academy in which uncommonly hot people cry a lot and there's singing involved. It's sort of like a more dramatic version of American Idol. In lieu of watching either program, I've started watching clips from The Daily Show, which, for me, is like porn since I'm attracted to basically everyone involved in that show. I typically watch anywhere from 5 to 72 clips of the show a day, half watching, half trying to figure out if it really is that gross to dry hump a laptop. Rod Corddry, you hulking chunk of man, how I would WORSHIP YOUR BODY!!!!

To get to the point (and to prevent my 'disgusting' count from going any higher, two is enough), this kid that I went to high school with...that I idolized in high school because he was the kind of guy who casually wore a belt made out of bottle caps and told stories about going to parties with No Doubt...was interviewed on the Daily Show. The clip is here, it's called Spoiler Alert, the kid I know is the one with innocent-looking eyebrows and bad facial hair.

Sunday, November 21, 2004

If you are as cheap as I am (cheap in the don't-have-money sense, not cheap in the passing-it-out-like-sweet-candy sense), you would rather spend your precious Euros on stuff like rent, heat, and the occassional movie out, rather than on basic hygene necessities, such as haircuts. In Paris, a haircut (for a woman) will run you anywhere from $40 to $100. If this were a TV show and you, reader(s?), were my studio audience, there would be a glowing neon sign telling you to say, "Now that's a lot of dollars" in an emphatic voice. I'll give you a chance to practice.

Ok....

Go.

True, that is a lot of dollars, dollars that could be used for cafe cremes or berets or museum tickets or any of the other things I'm supposed to have bought, but haven't. To avoid spending all my dollars on haircuts, there's a salon here that will give you free "fashion" haircuts if you act as a hair model. Since nothing I have ever done in my life could ever be truthfully described as fashionable, I'm doing my research so I can show them exactly what I want.

Here's where the fun comes in. Go to Google.com, select Google image, search "good haircuts." If you came up with this picture of a young boy looking suspicious in a witch's hat, displaying fashion neither in his dress nor haircut, you've found exactly what I did. Instead of haircuts either fashionable or otherwise, what I did find was Industrial Strength Machine Music, a pensive man in a hat, the predecessors to Queer Eye, and an obvious Howdy Doody fan.

Google, why hast thou forsaken me? The closest thing I found to anything resembling a haircut was this and honestly, I don't think I have the neck to carry it off.

Friday, November 19, 2004

A Testament to Nerdiness

I've seriously spent the past thirty minutes trying to remix this with any number of things from Chronic 2001 using Windows Media Player. There's only so much dignity you can have knowing that's how you spent your afternoon.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004