Rays of Life

A common theme on this blog has gone back to Mr. Obama's call for the United States to out compete the world. We need to produce more, know more and innovate more than any country on Earth and that ladies and gentleman is a tall order/ambitious new years resolution.

Obama: This year I want to beat everyone at everything.
Santa: Ho ho ho, good luck with that.

Well we're halfway done the year and it seems that we're not doing to hot. Our main exports remain bullets and Justin Bieber concerts while congress is too busy trying to either assassinate the Tappet brothers or raise their taxes to come up with solutions.

Note: spell check is telling me that the correct way to spell Bieber is Lieberman
Notier Note: So Bieber is Canadian, we are more fucked than I thought.

Today I found out that we are failing, once again, to out innovate in yet another sector of the economy. As one would imagine it's the Europeans who are out-innovating us, they have their problems but bitches know how to innovate.

More specifically the economic powerhouse that is the Republic of Cyprus is totally whooping us. They are absolutely dominating this country in one of the most important sectors of the 21st century economy. I am of course talking about the very very crucial energy apparel market. Them crafty Cypricians or Cypricans or whatever the hells have finally cracked the secret to the Far Infrared Radiation, quoting from their website: "known to be the most healthy radiations". Their company FIRTEX produced clothing that reflects back this miracle radiation to energize you. For only 200 euros this miracle of modern science can have you doing spontaneous back flips and winning the X-Games. They claim you'll jump 10% higher and feel 10% more energetic and even reduces pain.

I recommend giving their site a look over, the science seems solid. I highly doubt they picked low-ball percentages which can be wholly explained by the placebo effect. That would just be stupid.

Asian Night

Note: I just found this in my drafts and was quite dismayed to notice I never published it. Enjoy my several month old post!

For those of you who don't go to Alfred University, we have the great pride and privilege to have AVI Foodsystems, inc. cater our dining halls. Recently they've been undergoing their usual face lift procedure they attempt after every break to make us not hate them with every god damned fiber in our horribly malnourished bodies. They have taken the painstaking effort to raise the pans of food to a slight 20 degree angle, because everyone knows angled food is more appealing. Now they have a powerpoint presentation that greets our entrance to their illustrious dining halls. Though they're not dining halls anymore. They are now known as CULINARY CENTERS!

Pictured: Ade Culinary Center
Also Pictured: Used Hypodermic Needle

So for the past several weeks we have been bombarded by a world class advertising campaign to inform us that on the 22nd day of March in the year of our Lord Two Thousand and Eleven, the Powell Culinary Center would be playing host to, ASIAN NIGHT!!!!111 Not Chinese Night, or Japanese Night or Thai Night, motherfuckin' ASIAN NIGHT.

Pictured: Food from the continent of Asia.

I actually had the unique opportunity to sit in on the planning session for this. I am publishing the full transcript here so that one may fully appreciate the work done by our illustrious culinary center staff. Names have been changed to protect the identities of those depicted (also because I honestly don't know people)

MERYL: Oi, Vernita?! When it is this Asian night thingy happening.

NOREENE: I think its tonight.

MERYL: NO ONE ASKED YOU NOREENE!

VERNITA: I think it's tonight.

MERYL: Well cock biscuits. Round up everybody! We need to plan this thing and stat!

Noreene and Vernita gather the troops.

MERYL: Okay people, brain storm.
NOREENE: BRAINNNNNNNNNN STORMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
VERNITA: Just, just wow Noreene.
EMPLOYEE 1: We should definitely not make nearly enough food.
MERYL: Good point Drone, small portions are classy. 
EMPLOYEE 1: I was going to say because I don't want to cook but yeah, what you said.
NOREENE: I'M AT WORK!
VERNITA: Okay, next idea.
EMPLOYEE 2: We should up advertising Sushi, and stop serving it at 5.
EMPLOYEE 1: Doesn't this damn thing start at 5?
MERYL: Fucked if I know.
EMPLOYEE 2: This is the genius of my plan.

Pictured: Sushi selection.

EMPLOYEE 3: Are we going to serve any tasty beverages?
MERYL: Yes, in excessively small disposable cups.
VERNITA: The plates are also very small.
EMPLOYEE 4: Why is everything so small?
MERYL: It's Asian Night!
EMPLOYEE 4: I don't understand the correlation.

Pictured: Asian sized plates.

MERYL: Also in keeping with AVI Foodsystems contractual obligation to humiliate and oppress, all employees will wear stereotypical conical straw hats on your head while looking down at the ground in shame, hoping your hat will hide your now prideless eyes from your peers as they wander in search of food.
EMPLOYEES: AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
NOREENE: !!!
VERNITA: Thank you Noreene for teaching me the sound of a series of exclamation points.
MERYL: And in keeping with our dedication to cruel and unusual punishment of the customer, border lining on a constitutional offense, we will start cleaning up all the food only half an hour into this event. We will actually pour perfectly good food into trash cans as people just begin to arrive and watch as we flush squiggly equals fourteen dollars of their own money into a trash can. It's not like we give them  the choice if they want to spend it.
EMPLOYEE 3: We could buy 3 fucking meals at the Chinese restaurant for one of these shitty meals.
EMPLOYEE 2: Or make 4-5 of our own with higher quality ingredients.
MERYL: Exactly, good to hear you've been reading the employee handbook.
EMPLOYEE 4: What if people don't like the fancy drinks we got them.
MERYL: Fuck 'em, that's what. If they so much as try to cross my Great Wall of Chairs to obtain any other beverages I will personally berate and insult them like the Mongols that they are. Everyone understand what you're doing?
NOREENE: Gonna derp this herp til there ain't no derp to be herped.
MERYL: Thats the spirit. When these kids walk out of this culinary center I want them to feel like this.
VERNITA: This?
MERYL: This.

In conclusion a mad lib: AVI can go (verb) themselves in the (noun) with an (adjective)(noun) on a (adjective)(noun) until they turn (color) and (verb)... refrigerator.

Operation Early Bird: Analysis of the Phenomenon of Mornings

I have officially acquired a job as a local paper boy for the Bangor Daily News. This brings me up to two independent contractor positions this summer on top of the ChaCha Expeditor position I hold. There I have assisted over 500 customers, meaning I've made almost ten dollars! (WOWIE!!!!1) When I was informed that I got the position with the BDN, I was told to meet my new manager at around four o'clock in "the morning". This puzzled me at the time, I agreed to his terms not knowing their full meaning. After doing some research I learned of this "morning" he spoke of.

Morning, which comes from the Middle English word morwening, is an early predecessor of the time I know as noon, or wake-up time. I have dealt with it before, but had cast it aside as a hallucination induced by sleep deprivation. Some kind of nirvana filled with bright light, the smell of buttered toast and surprisingly energetic elderly people. I always assumed that this was the light at the end of the tunnel they tell you about in the movie-films. I always promptly went to sleep as to avoid a certain and most painful death. But further research indicates that this is a legitimate time of day and that it is when a large segment of the population wakes up. Wikipedia tells me that,

The ability of a person to wake up effectively in the morning may be influenced by a gene called "Period 3". This gene comes in two forms, a "short" and a "long" variant. It seems to affect the person's preference for mornings or evenings. People who carry the long variant were over-represented as morning people, while the ones carrying the short variant were evening preference people.


So it would appear that I got the short end of the Period 3 stick. Amazing how a single gene in the human genome has gone on to successfully segregate mankind into two different classes that live in separate universes with separate cultures that only interact around dinner time. Neither knowing of the worlds and cultures that exist in each others independent realms. Both holding discriminatory views of the other. How many of you long-genes have been made fun of for your early bed time? How many of my fellow short-genes, for your inability to wake up? The long-genes live in a world where McDonald's doesn't serve McGangbangs or fries, but these strange sandwiches covered in the fried chicken albumen and soaked in the condensed blood of maple trees. There is a strange film on the landscape known as dew. In their world the police are relatively friendly, the coffee is always warm and most businesses are actually open.

This is in sharp contrast to the world I know and was raised in. See my fellow short genes may find the previous paragraph an informative anthropological piece, now my long-gened friends should take a listen. The Mad Max like landscape that is known as the night or darktime is in every way the opposite to the world of the morwening. The ancient Saxons referred to this dark realm as the death mist. At this time the only people over 50 you see out are working at the only two open businesses, and they don't like you. At this time there are only two vehicles on the road, cops who hate the night shift and teenagers about to be pulled over by these cranky cops.

My long-gened readers may find the previous paragraph shocking and disturbing. I'm sure they are quite happy with the genes they have been given. But let it be known that your world disturbs me as much as mine does you. I will continue to be a resident of your realm, for as long as I am paid to, and not a minute longer. I am a foreigner in your lands and I know that, I promise you that I will not overstay my welcome.

Good night.

Yeah

It is my twenty first birthday. Yop... bradd done got me drunk. That is all. If you have a problem with this post refer to the mission statement. Yop...
Ps. I can blog on my phone now. This is going to end badly.
Pps. Gibberish now: jcujdokfjreioheujiojideodjnfhrujeiuyrdsdghhgdzgjkihfdfihfjhfgkhfzgjgddgjhgdfhkjgdfhkihfdfhkljgdgjkhgfhpoutedriutdsdgouretoiyrwqwetuyrewetuteweyrweyrasjgdsdkufdsdgkjgdsdhjhfzkjcxcjhvkjgdsdjzzkhxxkhvckbcxcbmmnvccvkjgfdgjkjhdzjhgfiuteaqetoitsriydsdoitautewrtewyeqwyeqwruteasfkifsasfkjghkkhgdgjkhxzcvxjgdzhczFddguuydasfkihfzljgzXhjhfsdgihfdfdkhffhd

Edit: So I'm not taking this down as it is a testament not only to our almost creepily connected world but to the powerful human drive to attention whore ones self in a public forum.