"Forged from the bones of unicorns and the raping of pixies"
How they can afford to make products and sell them so much cheaper than the name brand equivalents is absolutely beyond me. They're probably forged from the bones of unicorns and the raping of pixies, put together by child slave laborers in third-world countries, and comprised of the failed genetic experiments too impractical to put to work as slaves.
-- blozor on Wal-Mart
[The Marines have traditional values.] Ya know, values like sending young Americans to kill and be killed for...democracy and freedom. That is, except freedom of expression.
-- Marisa DiMattia at Needled.com discussing the Marine's new anti-tattoo policy banning sleeves and leg tattoos that are visible in physical training uniforms.
For the second time in my life, Oprah has picked a book for her book club I've already read. The last time, I wondered whether it was a sign she was getting some taste. Now, I just figure even a stopped clock is right twice a day.
-- xterminal discussing The Road
Now, for my favorites from blozor's Obtuse Descriptions of Bands:
KMFDM: You wake up in a future world ruled by a totalitarian, militaristic overlord, and you're pissed as fuck. You grab a club and start stomping heads until you hijack a tank and really start ruining their shit.
Guns 'N' Roses: You're in L.A., asshole deep in money, booze, narcotics, and supermodels, yet you're so pissed off all the time that all you want to do is throw priceless vases against the wall just to watch them break.
Type O Negative: The Biblical Apocalypse occurs at midnight on Halloween, only everything's moving at half-speed.
Something Awful Obtuse Descriptions of Bands, as turned up by blozor:
Nine Inch Nails: After finding out your mom killed your father, you go to tell your friend about it. He listens for a while, and when you wait for the sympathetic pat on the back he punches you in the mouth and steals your ipod. It's then you realize you have some gangrene on your nipples and you're pissing live cockroaches. You're wife/girlfriend comes by and says she can cure you of the bug pissing problem and the gangrene, but instead takes a huge dump in your eye and stabs you in the toe with an HIV infected needle. You reach over, grab a pen and paper, and write a song about it.
Fiona Apple: You talk to the girl you always find crying on the steps at the high school. She's going to dump you because you're too much of a pussy.
Blue Man Group: Primates discover tools... then LSD, then figure out 2+2=5.
David Bowie: An amnesiac alien crash lands in London. His ship throws him through the windshield, and he flies full force through a strip mall, going first through a fabric store, then an Avon center, and finally landing in a music shop, falling at the feet of a piano. As he pulls himself up, his fingers push down the keys of the piano, and the chords conjure faint images of youth and sex on his homeworld. Enthralled by this vision, he tries to make it a reality for his new location, and in doing so inadvertently acheives his forgotten primary objective, to take over the world.
Bob Dylan: Prometheus climbs back down with his armful of fire, momentarily considers giving it all to the people, but instead holds back the best part, eats it, and writes songs about it.
Metallica: That long-haired creep who was loving your stepsister in the basement 20 years ago settled down with her, moved to the upscale part of town, and is eyeing a position as senior financial advisor at his Wells Fargo Branch. You don't go to their barbeques because all he ever talks about is AA and how great he is at coaching his kids' soccer team.
Rage Against The Machine: Your 13 year old brother falls madly in love with Che Guevara and won't stop screaming at you about it. He eventually gets very rich off of it, in a fashion that parallels the principles he speaks out against.
-- blozor on Wal-Mart
[The Marines have traditional values.] Ya know, values like sending young Americans to kill and be killed for...democracy and freedom. That is, except freedom of expression.
-- Marisa DiMattia at Needled.com discussing the Marine's new anti-tattoo policy banning sleeves and leg tattoos that are visible in physical training uniforms.
For the second time in my life, Oprah has picked a book for her book club I've already read. The last time, I wondered whether it was a sign she was getting some taste. Now, I just figure even a stopped clock is right twice a day.
-- xterminal discussing The Road
Now, for my favorites from blozor's Obtuse Descriptions of Bands:
KMFDM: You wake up in a future world ruled by a totalitarian, militaristic overlord, and you're pissed as fuck. You grab a club and start stomping heads until you hijack a tank and really start ruining their shit.
Guns 'N' Roses: You're in L.A., asshole deep in money, booze, narcotics, and supermodels, yet you're so pissed off all the time that all you want to do is throw priceless vases against the wall just to watch them break.
Type O Negative: The Biblical Apocalypse occurs at midnight on Halloween, only everything's moving at half-speed.
Something Awful Obtuse Descriptions of Bands, as turned up by blozor:
Nine Inch Nails: After finding out your mom killed your father, you go to tell your friend about it. He listens for a while, and when you wait for the sympathetic pat on the back he punches you in the mouth and steals your ipod. It's then you realize you have some gangrene on your nipples and you're pissing live cockroaches. You're wife/girlfriend comes by and says she can cure you of the bug pissing problem and the gangrene, but instead takes a huge dump in your eye and stabs you in the toe with an HIV infected needle. You reach over, grab a pen and paper, and write a song about it.
Fiona Apple: You talk to the girl you always find crying on the steps at the high school. She's going to dump you because you're too much of a pussy.
Blue Man Group: Primates discover tools... then LSD, then figure out 2+2=5.
David Bowie: An amnesiac alien crash lands in London. His ship throws him through the windshield, and he flies full force through a strip mall, going first through a fabric store, then an Avon center, and finally landing in a music shop, falling at the feet of a piano. As he pulls himself up, his fingers push down the keys of the piano, and the chords conjure faint images of youth and sex on his homeworld. Enthralled by this vision, he tries to make it a reality for his new location, and in doing so inadvertently acheives his forgotten primary objective, to take over the world.
Bob Dylan: Prometheus climbs back down with his armful of fire, momentarily considers giving it all to the people, but instead holds back the best part, eats it, and writes songs about it.
Metallica: That long-haired creep who was loving your stepsister in the basement 20 years ago settled down with her, moved to the upscale part of town, and is eyeing a position as senior financial advisor at his Wells Fargo Branch. You don't go to their barbeques because all he ever talks about is AA and how great he is at coaching his kids' soccer team.
Rage Against The Machine: Your 13 year old brother falls madly in love with Che Guevara and won't stop screaming at you about it. He eventually gets very rich off of it, in a fashion that parallels the principles he speaks out against.