I love Upper Uwchalan Township

Asian massage parlor busted for prostitution... the location of the parlor was within a mile of the Upper Uwchlan Township Police station


Rofl. Oh, home. With your exotic massage parlors and silly police force.

For everyone who thinks I'm mean, acerbic, or even a bitch

This is my favorite thing in the entire world, a (polite!) panda bear with allergies. LOOK AT THEIR EARS!!!

Muppet Belz

Thanks, Best Week Ever.

Being a big damn Browncoat

Two words; Doctor Horrible.

My 'Beatle Mania' over all things Joss Whedon has taken on a whole new level. I've transcended into some higher plane of existence.

What is Dr. Horrible? Well, from the Facebook page it is, " The story of a low-rent super-villain, the hero who keeps beating him up, and the cute girl from the laundromat he’s too shy to talk to."

It stars Doogie Howser (uh Neil Patrik Harris) as Dr. Horrible and Nathan Fillion (aka my Captain) as The Hammer. Oh and it's a "Sing-A-Long Blog".

This all started thanks to the WGA Strike. Here's Joss's answer (from the Dr. Horrible site) as to how it came to pass; "Once upon a time, all the writers in the forest got very mad with the Forest Kings and declared a work-stoppage. The forest creatures were all sad; the mushrooms did not dance, the elderberries gave no juice for the festival wines, and the Teamsters were kinda pissed. (They were very polite about it, though.) During this work-stoppage, many writers tried to form partnerships for outside funding to create new work that circumvented the Forest King system.

Frustrated with the lack of movement on that front, I finally decided to do something very ambitious, very exciting, very mid-life-crisisy. Aided only by everyone I had worked with, was related to or had ever met, I single-handedly created this unique little epic. A supervillain musical, of which, as we all know, there are far too few.

The idea was to make it on the fly, on the cheap – but to make it. To turn out a really thrilling, professionalish piece of entertainment specifically for the internet. To show how much could be done with very little. To show the world there is another way. To give the public (and in particular you guys) something for all your support and patience. And to make a lot of silly jokes. Actually, that sentence probably should have come first. "

It's been two years...

...Since I went to Michigan. My first real vacation and I spent 89% of it under the influence. Which isn't saying that Michigan is so unbearable that I had to drink but rather, it was so easy to roll out of bed at noon, have a drink with lunch, and just wander around Grand Rapids (which is probably one of the cutest, cleanest, friendliest cities, ever).

In the past two years my dear friend Loren has gone from living in his Dad's house in Lansing, to Grand Rapids, to Chicago, to Bowling Green, to Nashville, down to Florida, then New Orleans. He's in LA now, recording his second album and I couldn't be more proud of him.

Loren's pretentious website

Old meme, I don't care

In celebration of it being almost Friday

Jermaine Jackson & DEVO

Source: http://www.boingboing.net/2008/07/09/video-devo-and-jerma.html

Finally, an excuse to yell "GORRAMIT!" in public

How English Is Evolving Into a Language We May Not Even Understand

The targeted offenses: if you are stolen, call the police at once. please omnivorously put the waste in garbage can. deformed man lavatory. For the past 18 months, teams of language police have been scouring Beijing on a mission to wipe out all such traces of bad English signage before the Olympics come to town in August. They're the type of goofy transgressions that we in the English homelands love to poke fun at, devoting entire Web sites to so-called Chinglish. (By the way, that last phrase means "handicapped bathroom.")

But what if these sentences aren't really bad English? What if they are evidence that the English language is happily leading an alternative lifestyle without us?

http://www.wired.com/culture/culturereviews/magazine/16-07/st_essay

The key(s) to my heart; bacon & The Doctor

I'm going to attempt to make a balsamic-bacon vinaigrette sauce for green beans tonight. The best part is it's not even for a person I'm trying to impress. Just a fellow bacon enthusiast.

To balance out my meat consumption, last night for dinner I had Morning Star "hot wings". Doing my best to avoid eating the meat products located in the heart of West Philadelphia. Take that however you want.

So, Doctor Who made me cry (added bonus, I was on a train, so I was crying in public on public transportation). How British Sci-Fi can make me weepy eye'd but not The Notebook (any person who enjoyed that movie deserves to be punched in or about the throat), is beyond me. Oh, right, I'm the Anti-Girl.

Is it so wrong that something like metaphysics (because, essentially trans-dimensional time-travel and paradoxes is metaphysics) gets an emotional response out of me, rather than forced romantic bullshit? No. It'd be nice to have a culture where intellectual stimuli was considered socially acceptable and not some phoney-bologna "love story". That being said, I love Nine but I'd follow Ten until the ends of the universe. Something about a lanky Scot with goofy hair really does it for me.

More the goofy hair than the Scot.

I honestly never thought that it would be like this

A vast majority of last night was spent engaging in mental exercise. Which is kind of sad since I was at a 4th of July shindig, but on the other hand, it's the sort of thing that I live for.

To quote Henry Rollins, "I want a woman who can sit me down, shut me up, and tell me five things I don't know." While that is something I look for romantically, it also helps in making new friends. In the past two weeks I've met so many new interesting people. None of them are romantic prospects but it's really refreshing to be around people who give my brain a whole new work out.

For example, last week I had a long talk about organizational dynamics and the politics of the department. Thursday, I learned how vowels are plotted. Last night, learned about how social workers work (or not so much apparently) with genetic counselors and how the human gastrointestinal (if thats wrong, I apologize) is adapting to proteins, dairy, and so on and so forth.

Business cards were exchanged. Good times.

Hi Yoshie

Oh, and the next time you play GTA 4, light a hooker on fire. My friend Rosie's voice is what you will hear. :D

The woes of when people won't let you mico-manage them

I listened to the ladies who lunch talk about reality TV at lunch. I wanted to stick a chop-stick through my temple.