"Not allowing myself to be bullied by the vocal minority is… the war I want to win," says an Oregon football coach who refused to relent when the forces of oppression tried to prevent him from taking his middle school charges to a local Hooters for an awards dinner.
What would you do if you were attacked by a pack of coyotes on your way to your job? I mostly work from home so it hasn't really come up yet, but I imagine if I were in the position of this Colorado man for whom this scenario was in fact quite real, I would pretty much just make a big doody in my pants and then lie on the ground crying until they ate my face off. Anyway, we'll find out the answer soon enough, because as the wildlife expert in the story says here, and I am paraphrasing, adult coyotes are instructing their children to attack human [...]
Here's your feelgood story of the day. I have taken a look at what lies ahead for the rest of the week and this may actually be as good as it gets, so you should probably savor it.
You know what, if this is how May has to end I'll take it. Just so long as May ends, you know? It has just gone on and on.
Snow, snow and more snow! And that's just the voice-over. "This is winter's last blast of the year," says the reporter. "Or maybe not." It really makes you think.
You can look at this story as a kind of tragic meta-commentary on the absurdity of love and how, when it dies, its absence can cause us to lash out in the most ludicrous of ways, engendering unwanted attention that we can't even care about because we are so bitter over our broken heart and desperate to be acknowledged in our despair, to be avenged in our suffering. But I like to focus on the part where the reporter notes that the police have "a binder like this one" on the estranged couple in the case and then holds up the binder to show you just in case you [...]
For me, the most depressing religious philosophy concerning the condition of existence is the concept of samsara, where you are continually reincarnated until you get it right. For those of us who feel as if the brutal burden of being alive is perhaps the cruelest joke, the idea that, when you've finally discharged your obligations in that regard, you get sent back to the start, as if you were playing some sadistic game of Chutes and Ladders, is almost too painful to consider. Once around will be more than enough, thanks. Still, every time you are tempted to wallow in the mire of despair over the sheer strain of [...]
I enjoy the way they just sort of drop in the story about the guy who died in Room 1111 towards the end of the piece. Like, "I dunno, it's still pretty thin, anyone die here? Oh, great!" Anyway, I'm scared, hold me, etc.
As the great Butch Hancock noted of his birthplace, "Life in Lubbock, Texas, taught me two things: One is that God loves you and you're going to burn in Hell. The other is that sex is the most awful, filthy thing on Earth and you should save it for someone you love." It's our contradictions that make us beautiful in the eyes of the Lord, I guess. Anyway, I love how the people they talk to about this billboard are like, "Yeah, maybe I'll look it up next time I'm online or whatever." I guess that counts as a kind of storm.
"A monkey, hiding in the back seat of the truck, reached forward as the officer asked for a signature, and attacked his hand, and the camera attached to his glasses caught the whole thing," is what the news report says in the world we live in now.
This is one of those stories where the most charitable thing you can say is that there are probably additional factors beyond the issue at hand that have contributed to its denouement, but regardless, nothing you see here could exactly be considered a good advertisement for the act of smoking or those who participate in that activity.
Okay, there is obviously a lot more to this story than what the report indicates, so without making a comment on the rest of the circumstances I would just like to point out that—and pay attention; you might not think this is going to come in handy but when it does (and, trust me, as confident as you are now that this situation will never apply to you, in this life you will discover that things that you cannot even conceive of happen with such unpredictable ease that by the time you even register surprise you are already past the point of addressing the issue on your own) you [...]
"Of course, not everyone has the purple blood to imitate His Royal Badness. The decision is left up to the judges. But remember: the clones can earn up to $25,000 per year on a part-time basis. Not a bad salary for donning a little eyeliner, some lacy frocks and gyrating like Elvis!" —As is their wont, the guys at Ego Trip have unearthed something wonderful for us.
Thank God we've only got a good fifteen years left on this planet. Otherwise these kids would DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT. Also, ewww.
The funniest thing about this is that it's the top story, but there is still plenty of humor to be found throughout. [Via]
The promise of this country used to be if you worked hard and played by the rules you would be okay and your kids would be a little bit better off than you were. Now we live with the hope that maybe we'll find free money in a box of junk food. Oh well, we had a good run.
"In the west shall be born a twin-headed beast while a dual-pastry fusion ascends in the east" is what Nostradamus might have written about all the stupid stuff going on in the news right now if he really had the ability to see into the future. Anyway, the signs are all there: a kitty with a pair of faces, a monstrous amalgam of donut and crossiant… we are opening all the seals, people. This will not end well.
I was barely a moment inside Walmart, studying the cucumbers and avocados, when a middle-aged man came up to say hi.
We started talking about the oil boom sweeping Williston, North Dakota. He said his coworkers were losing it out here in the middle of nowhere. Maybe he would lose it too.
"You gotta really be focused on your shit," he said. "And it's hard. And on that note, that's why you should let me take you to dinner."
I declined. He called later that evening to ask me on a date. He said he'd take me to Pizza Hut. I was not pining for a rendezvous with a roustabout [...]