So I’m sitting at a Jimmy John’s in a strip mall in Glenview, Illinois. I’m eating a #3*, minding my own business, when my eyes happen to fall on one of the many “wacky” signs on the wall. Jimmy John’s seems to take great pride in their wacky signs, most of which feature quick hits like “Yo Mama… Wants You To Eat At Jimmy John’s!” or “If These Walls Could Talk… They Wouldn’t Need Signs Like This One!” This one that I happened to find myself staring at was different, though. This one had a lot of words on it. I love shit with lots of words on it (I was an English major, after all), so when I saw them all sitting there on that sign my pulse quickened a bit. As if by instinct, the training I received as an undergraduate kicked in. I began systematically processing the entire sign, word by word. Left to right, top to bottom.

Reading, if you will.

When I reached the last word of the last line, a weird thing happened. I started thinking about the overall message of the sign. It was delivered in a light-hearted manner, but the message of it was actually kind of… well… kind of deep, I guess. It spoke volumes about the lunacy of the American value system, about our messed up priorities, you know? I thought about what I had read for a while and sat there eating my sandwich. I thought about myself, my job, my own personal priorities. I compared myself to the guy in the story on the sign on the wall at a Jimmy John’s in Glenview, Illinois.

Then I was like “wow” – I really need to start bringing a book with me to read on my lunch breaks. I also need those books to be, like, “good” books, I guess, because apparently my brain is turning into applesauce. Seriously – being emotionally moved by some stupid sign hanging on the wall at Jimmy John’s really fucking sucks.

If you’d like to read the sign in question, just click on the dunce.

* That’s a “Sorry Charlie.”**

** That’s a tuna salad sandwich.

Also said a case and use see,
but the bonds early light?
What’s so for Clinton lead the has helped,
asset to lead late last remaining.
These leads to let us and let it starts,
through the perilous night.
And the rest of parts we watched,
worst of the phone him least two remaining.
As a number asked its lead glare,
the claims bursting a manner,
disease roof through the night,
this has plastic was still there.
As to say those that explains angle banner you wait?
Wasn’t full time of the free,
and that home of the rated.

I realized the other day that despite having been an English major in college, I haven’t really been reading for pleasure very much lately unless you count snarky websites, glossy magazines, and comic books. I remember telling myself when I was still in school that graduating would be great because I’d have so much more time to read “whatever I want.” I’ve been meaning to get around to reading The Brothers Karamazov ever since, but cut me some slack – Guitar Hero 2 just came out. I’m totally gonna read some Russian classics as soon as I get 5 stars on Misirlou on Expert Mode.

So I was sitting around the other night, feeling guilty for letting my brain rot, when I got inspired and decided to scan through the contents of my bookshelf in search of some stimulation. I figured maybe I should read some books that I own but have never read. Sounds like a good enough plan, doesn’t it? Think about it: they’re sitting right there in my living room! All I have to do is open the cover and start absorbing! How easy!

Well, not quite. Here’s the problem: At some point in my life I bought these books with the intention of reading them. Maybe I started reading them but got bored in the middle. Maybe I only made it a few pages in and then decided I’d rather play Counterstrike or something. Maybe I never even opened the damn thing but thought it made me look smart sitting on my shelf. No matter what the reason was for not reading these books, there’s one underlying fact shared by every possible explanation: I was more excited to read these books when I bought them than I am now.

Which probably explains why as I scanned the shelves looking for something new and exciting, every unread book I came across made me kind of shudder a little. Here’s a handful of them in no particular order.

(more…)

Bad news, ladies: The following costumes at halloweenmart.com are sold out:

– Sexy Pirate Wench

– Sexy Bee

– Sexy Firefighter

– Sexy Gangster Moll (note: with an alternate meaning of the word “moll” the name of this costume could technically be “Sexy Gangster Prostitute,” which totally fucking rules.)

– Sexy Delegate

It’s true: The demand for Sexy Delegate costumes was greater than halloweenmart.com’s supply of them this year, but don’t worry! There are still plenty of totally sexy costumes available on the market! Consider one of the following:

– Sexy Notary Public

– Sexy Homeless Person

– Sexy Wilford Brimley

– Sexy Foreign Exchange Student With Little Or No Understanding Of American Halloween Customs

– Sexy Teenager With Low Self Esteem

– Sexy Holocaust Survivor

– Sexy Girl With Basically Nothing Else Going For Her Except For Her Sexiness

– Sexy Tuba Player

– Sexy Burn Victim

– Sexy Girl At The Halloween Party Who Looks Like She’d Be Really Easy To Bone

Ten Other Products That People Interested In Hammacher Schlemmer’s New Computerless E-Mail Printer May Want To Consider Purchasing:

– A Receiverless Telephone

– A Bladeless Knife

– A Wireless Wire

– A Memory Foam Hammer

– An Ink-Drenched Towel

– A Single-Cube Ice Tray

– A “God Bless This Mess” Wall Hanging From Some Shitty Antique Store In Door County, Wisconsin

– A Windex Bottle Full Of Blood

– A Computer

I wonder what Kevin G. Boyd was doing when he came up with the idea for Bling H20. I bet he was sitting on a black leather couch, taking a sip of Fiji water. He probably put it down on his glass coffee table, looked at the bottle and thought to himself, “You know what? I bet I can trick morons into paying way more money for this shit than $3.” Thus spoke a Hollywood writer-producer, and thus Bling H20 was born. It’s $25 – $40 a bottle. The bottle is filled with water. Read their ad copy and brace yourself for another terrorist attack:

“Bling H2O is the inspiration of Kevin G. Boyd, Hollywood writer-producer. While working on various studio lots where image is of the utmost importance he noticed that you could tell a lot about a person by the bottled water they carried. In Hollywood it seemed as if people flaunted their bottled water like it was part of their presentation. Whether the bottles had a cool shape or came from an exotic island, none truly made that defining statement. Bling H2O was fashioned to make that defining statement. The mission was to offer a product with an exquisite face to match exquisite taste. The product is strategically positioned to target the expanding super-luxury consumer market. Initially introduced to hand-selected athletes and actors, Bling H2O is now excitedly expanding it’s availability. Bling H2O has been featured at many recent celebrity events including the MTV Video Music Awards and television’s biggest event, The Emmys. Bling H20 is pop-culture in a bottle. But it’s not for everyone, just those that Bling. So the question is: Do You Bling?“

Wasn’t that whole fucking city supposed to have fallen into the ocean already?

(via geekologie)