Art Is For Chumps

https://www.euroweeklynews.com/2021/05/29/italian-artist-sells-invisible-sculpture-for-e15000/

If you read the article, you already know the deal. If not here’s what you missed: Italian “artist”, Salvatore Garau, sold an invisible sculpture for £15,000, which is like.... I don’t know. More than 15k US dollars. 

Maybe you’re like me, and thought well, maybe it’s like invisible in sunlight, or you need a special black light or something to see it. Nope it doesn’t exist. It’s invisible because he never made anything. 15k.

Now I know there’s some art snob out there that will try and tell me that I don’t understand the piece. I’d argue, they don’t understand it. I don’t hate art people though. I think they’re the best actually. They’re so snobby because they took a couple art history courses in college, or even worse, they’re an art major. But I appreciate the move. I love convincing myself that I’m the smartest person in the room. That’s what art study is. All courses should be titled “How To Make Everyone Think You’re Smarter Than Them.” Which, like, respect. 

I’m not talking Da Vinci, or classic pieces like that. Those you can look at and be like huh, that looks pretty. I’m talking about interpretive art. Scam art. The kind of art that’s a big piece of paper painted blue with a red stripe at the bottom that people cry in front of and buy it for a million dollars. You can use words like clashing and expressionism all you want, it won’t work on me. Because I have a brain and eyeballs, and I can clearly see that somebody just Randy Johnson’d a bunch of paint at the wall. Interpretive is just another word for fake. 

You could argue that just because I don’t understand something that I quickly dismiss it. You’d be correct. Everything I don’t understand is stupid to me. But this “invisible piece” goes too far beyond logic for anyone to reasonably justify. Not to mention, the artist said it needs to be displayed in a space of 150 x 150 cm. Um excuse me? And you bought this for £15k? Adjust your monacle pal, somebody just sold you a fart. 

Despite my negative review on the piece, or lack there of, I actually love this move by Sal. Look, if you can pull off feeding your family because some rich asshole wants to be an idiot, have at it. Your next piece should be performance art where you piss on your customer’s back. You can title it, “Raining”.

Living In The Moment

Memories aren’t what they used to be. Lighters lost their jobs to flashlights, the brain replaced by a camera roll. The backdrop in pictures to big moments are no longer filled with awe-struck onlookers but with people gawking at their phones instead of the subject at hand. 

Half of the people in the world nowadays reach for their pocket when they see a potential memory brewing. Concerts, fireworks, the final out in the World Series. Majority of these people don’t even want it for memory’s sake but as some weird proof that they did and saw something. And it never comes out how it looks in person. It’s this minuturized speckly version of what you were supposed to be looking at. You never show it to anyone after you post it to your Instagram story. Not even yourself. Why would you? It looks like shit. So it just sits there rotting in your camera roll taking up storage space. 

As for the other half of people on this planet. Oh you thought you were safe, did ya? The fuckin lIvE iN tHe MoMeNt police. Shut up? Just shut up. Your holier than thou attitude makes you worse than the camera people. You’re so busy snickering about the person next to you not enjoying the moment that you ruin it for yourself. You’re not concerned about the state of the world, you just enjoy looking down at people. Like  your sneering is going to magically cause some great epiphany to a total stranger to never use their phone camera ever again. Get over yourself. 

Camera people, maybe try living in the present a bit, see how you like it. Moment police, go live in the future a bit to prevent your present self from being a little weasel. Or whatever, do what you want, I know what I’ll be doing. 

China Creates AI Software To Detect Emotion

https://www.bbc.com/news/technology-57101248

I read a lot of science fiction and I’m currently rewatching Dr. Who in preparation for when the Aliens come down to say whatsup on June 1st. So you’re just going to have to trust that I’m the expert here and you’re not. Here is my expertise analysis: this is not good. 

We’re talking about potential emotional felonies. Thought crime. The article had a section where it talks about the Orwellian parallels to the software. Which is kind of bullshit, because I was going to say that to sound smart. But ultimately, the way you’re feeling during the time of your arrest could help determine you’re level of innocence.

The AI is programmed to detect minute changes in facial expressions and skin pores. It be your own damn skin pores that snitch. The AI can detect anxiety or negatively driven emotions. But what other feelings are you supposed to have when you’ve just been arrested? What if you have to take a shit but your wrists and ankles are shackled to a chair in a Chinese holding cell? Probably make you pretty anxious, right? Now you’re found guilty on all charges.

It doesn’t explicitly state that the AI detects other emotions, but I imagine for an all-knowing robot it wouldn’t be that difficult. What happens when the results come back that the subject is happy? That’s the person that should worry you. You’ve just been picked up for suspicion of a double-homicide, what’re you so happy about? Or what if it comes back that they’re horny? Now what do you. 

Obviously there’s more to the article. It’s alleged that the test subjects to this software is are the Uyghur Muslims in Xinjiang. The same Xinjiang where it’s suspected a million people are being held in “re-education camps”. I’m not versed enough on this issue to go into detail but I will comment on the quote given by the Chinese embassy. 

“The political, economic, and social rights and freedom of religious beliefs in all ethnic groups in Xinjiang are fully guranteed.”

If you feel the need to come out and say hey guys we’re not making racist robots, surely seems like something someone who’s making racist robots would say. 

Any way you slice it, we’re fucked. They can’t even walk around yet and robots are already trying to throw us in jail. There’s only possible solution I see. If the robots are dicks, we ask the aliens to take them out. If the aliens are dicks, we ask the robots to take them out. Either way we’re playing second fiddle. But I’d take silver over bronze any day of the week. 

Man Drunk Texts Aquarium

Texting while drinking is an unfortunate technologically stemmed casualty to our society. We need texting, we need drinking, and we can’t stop doing it at the same time. I’ve deleted all of my exes numbers and social media accounts. I know myself, and I have no problem reaching out and falling back in love for a couple hours after a couple of drinks. That’s normally followed by a lot of awkward explaining and back tracking. It doesn’t make for a fun morning. It’s better to remove option completely. 

I know people who have drunk texted exes, in-laws, and co-workers. But never in all my life have I heard of somebody drunk texting an aquarium. 

The South Carolina Aquarium recently posted these screenshots to their Twitter (@SCaquarium).

It’s part of the Aquarium’s “Ask an Aquarium Educator” program. I’m not going to explain the program, I’m sure you can figure it out. 

It’s safe to say the Educator was put to the test. Ol’ Sonny up there was firing on all cylinders. His first question and last question were an hour and a half apart. His drunken brain just couldn’t quit aquatic philosophy. The Educator? Didn’t skip a fucking beat. I could’ve done without the “turtle-ly” line, but otherwise they handled themselves like champions. 

This is an actual representation of all those couples’ Tik Toks where the girl is staring like “I wonder what he’s thinking about right now, he’s probably cheating on me,” and the guy’s brain is literally like “Why are seahorses always grabbing shit with their tails?” Did you catch that little breadcrumb the drunk texter left for his wife at the end there about how lucky she is? When you walk downstairs in the morning and your lady is standing there in her PJs with her arms crossed, asking you “Who the hell were you texting so late last night?” You’re gonna say the aquarium?! Not without concrete proof you’re not. 

Drink responsibly. Text responsibly. And if you’re going to drunkenly pour your heart into your phone, make sure the aquariums on the receiving end. 

Everybody Has A Fucking Opinion When It Comes To Buying A House

There’s three pretty important things you need to know about me before reading this blog. I live in a two bedroom apartment with my recently divorced mother, I can afford to buy a house but can’t find one to buy, and I am no longer telling people that I’m trying to buy a house. 

It’s tough to judge who’s sadder, my divorcee mother who doesn’t know how to restart her life in her fifties, or her only remaining child who doesn’t know how to start his life in the first place. We make the best of it. We watch “This Is Us” together over ice cream after dinner. We find comfort in knowing that neither of us expected to find ourselves in this situation. So we’re in it together. Where the comfort dissipates is when we both start to act our age. 

My mother does things like, talk at length about the man she’s just separated from after thirty years of marriage. As someone in their late fifties tends to do. Only one small issue, that man is also my Dad. I’m not without fault. As 28 year olds tend to do, I decided to have a friend over that I had just met at a bar. There’s not much room where I live, as two bedroom apartments tend to do, and I had to introduce this grown ass woman to my Mom who was watching a recorded James Corden episode in the living room before we went to my bedroom like I was fucking seventeen years old again. 

“Well why don’t you just move out?”

Wow, wish I would have thought of that. 

For the first time in my life, I actually have a little coin in my pocket. Feels great. So I’ve been saving up for a house. Now I do have a little brother who does have his own place. He doesn’t have to worry about having friends over, and also, he has much more friends over than I do. None of that feels great. But he owns a trailer. I could own a trailer no problem. But I have money and he doesn’t. So to even the sibling rivalry scales, I need to buy a much bigger house than him since I’ll be having much smaller amounts of sex in it. 

I have the means I just don’t have the inventory. Houses that used to cost 200k are now going for 425k. So the houses that are now going for 200-300k are flying off the market in mere hours and coming in way over asking price. I have money, but only comparatively speaking to my former self. I don’t have 450k lying around. 

So I went to my best friend who’s also still living home, and said “Hey, rent costs more than mortgages right now, why don’t we split a house to split the cost. No point in renting and paying someone else’s mortgage when we can build equity of our own. Maybe we even bring in a third friend to rent a room from us to bring down our monthly bills.” He agreed. Now, I’m a forward thinker, I could see possible issues arising. So we hashed them out before we started looking. My best friend and I agreed that if one of us decides we want to move out we’ll either A. Reappraise the house and buy the other one out at current market price, or B. Sell the house together and split the profit. A pretty good idea I thought. 

Well not according to literally any person I ever told that to.

I didn’t realize that when you’re discussing purchasing a home, every human on the receiving end of that conversation naturally becomes a real estate expert. They make up mortgage rates, they somehow know when the housing market is going to dip, and instantly know what’s the best course of action for you, without any knowledge of your current living situation. I can’t exactly tell my boss who asked me “What’s the rush?”,  that I need to move out so I can try and have sex without fear of my mom hearing me from the next room over. 

So if someone tells you that they’re trying to buy a house, don’t ask them how it’s going. It’s going terrible. It isn’t an invitation for advice or criticism. What it probably is, is a feeble attempt to fill the empty air like an adult. What you should say is, “Sounds tough, good luck with that,” so both of you can move the fuck on with your respective lives. 

People Who Buy Pickup Trucks Are The Biggest Idiots In The World

I start my day off every morning by thinking about how I can go about my business without having anyone to ask me to do anything. Having a pickup truck makes you the designated first call whenever your friends/family need something moved. Yeah, I might have to cram my big ass into my little Honda Accord, but it’s paid off and nobody asks me to do shit. So why are people still buying these things?

I get it if you hunt, or use it for work, but outside of that it’s a pretty inexcusable purchase. Plus I think majority of people who have a truck aren’t handy and don’t hunt. I personally know a guy who has a $2,000 toolbox hooked up in the back of his pickup. Not a single tool in it. 

Besides being physically taxing, trucks can’t be good on the mentals either. I’d wager that if you told 20 people that you bought a new truck, 9 of them would imply that you have a tiny schmeckle. I can’t afford that kind of attack from the flank, I’ve already had to throw out all my grey sweatpants. 
I feel for guys who get giddy about their new truck. Buying a new car should be an exciting thing. But all you did was purchase a machine that forces you to do free manual labor and make people think you have a little dick. I know you want to feel manly, but it isn’t worth it. But we all know a truck guy, a truck guy won’t listen to my pleas. Truck guy is still laughing at my little white Accord. Well you have fun with your empty toolbox buddy, while I’m dragging my wrench out of a Honda. 

Exclusive Video: Did David Wells Ever Consider Drinking To Throw More Perfect Games?

Behind only sailors and gamblers, baseball players are some of the most superstitious people on the planet. David Wells is on a very short and exclusive list of players that are beloved by both Yankees and Red Sox fans. Monday was the 23rd anniversary of his Perfect Game. Boomer was off to a rocky start in 1998, posting a 5.23 era before the first pitch. So how did he pull it off?

“Half drunk, with bloodshot eyes, monster breath, and a raging, skull rattling hangover.”

He was hungover as shit. Knowing baseball players, I wondered to myself if he thought that maybe he had figured something out with this hangover thing. Was Boomer, now an 11 year veteran, thinking shit I guess I have to get hammered before every start now to throw more perfect games? So I asked him. Here was his response, along with who he was drinking with on the night before. 

Legend. This man is the best, America incarnate. Boomer and the SNL cast along with Jimmy Fallon, tying one off the night before the Perfect Game. Dabbled in the science of hangover pitching and sounds like a couple of the boys joined in to analyze the data. I have my guesses on who but it’s all conjecture. 

This is why I love this game, there’s a magic to these moments. It’s what makes it America’s pastime. I’ve had Shameful Sundays my last three weekends to the point where I didn’t want to peel myself out of bed. But if a 35-year-old hungover David Wells can stumble in at 5:00 am after a night with Jimmy Fallon, drag his ass to the stadium, and deliver the 15th Perfect Game ever thrown? Makes me feel like I can do anything. 

Ass Eatin’ Szn: Hey Arnold Edition

A recent viral Tik Tok has sparked a debate on if Hey Arnold slipped in a rimjob scene right in front of our pre-pubescent faces. Seen here:

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMep5Bk1w/

Here’s a still shot: 

Eating ass has become a relatively new phenomenon on the internet. Or at least we thought. Apparently the pioneers over at Nickelodeon Studios have had their noses on tailbones for decades. 

Pictured above is Craig Bartlett, noted liar and creator of Hey Arnold. He denied the implication of the scene back in 2016 when the clip first surfaced on Twitter. But look at his picture. There is nothing you can say to me to make me think that Craig Bartlett doesn’t love eating ass. 

Cmon. First of all the character in the scene is named Uncle Chuck which is an immediate red flag. The guys going to town. Not to mention the nice lady on the receiving can barely hold herself up and is on the precipice of her O face. 
You think I’m going to start trusting Craig Bartlett all of a sudden? The man who made me think Arnold’s parents were dead for years? Only to find out that they were sleeping in Central America literally the entire time? I’m supposed to believe that guy? Eat shit. I know when somebody’s getting the ol’ rusty trombone, and that man is having himself a healthy serving. 

Lost In The Sauce

I am a sauce lunatic. Much to my displeasure, it’s even become part of my personality. If you saw my stature it’d make a lot more sense. The amount of different condiments I need to satisfy a meal is out of control. So this news that Chick Fil A is putting a cap on sauces per meal is really hitting home for me. 

I came to the realization of my sauce addiction when I was about twelve. I was at my best friends house, I was a biggon even back then, so my friend’s parents were bragging all night about how they were going to make me a big steak. When dinner came there was no sauce on the table. At all. Before I took my first cut I asked if they had any steak sauce. They would’ve looked less offended if I had just punched them in the face instead. I still think about that dinner and every time I eat there I sacrifice my flavor preferences for their little egos. 

My friends had always commented on the amount of sauces we had on the dinner table when they came over. But I just always thought they were impressed. It doesn’t matter if the sauce makes sense for the meal. Put it on the table and let someone experiment if they want. Do I think it’s gross that my mom and sister put Thai Sweet Chili sauce on their Italian cheese raviolis? Yes I do. But I’ll fight for their right to do so. 

Despite my apparent laissez-fair approach to the condiment industry, I am a stickler on sauce to food ratio. This shit runs deep in my DNA. I was taught at a young age from breakfasts with my grandpa that sauce is a privilege and should be utilized as such. If I ever had a heavy hand in pouring his precious “brown sauce” (HP Steak Sauce) I would be scolded in front of the entire family for it. I was mad at first. Like he was still back in WWII Scotland rationing for a long winter. He used to make me lick up when I didn’t use. “If it goes on your plate, it goes in your mouth.” I grew to appreciate his methods, and adopted them as my own. A lesson my little brother didn’t seem to grasp. 

My brother is the youngest grandchild so, first of all, spoiled. Secondly, he had a strict childhood diet of plain bagels (no cream cheese/butter), french fries, and Kraft’s mac and cheese. He never got shamed by Grandpa because he never used sauce. Now in his twenties, he eats like a mostly normal person. But he’s still relatively new to food and thus, new to sauce. He’ll do a three second pour per two chicken strips. He should do jail time for that. Leaves an absolute lake of sauce on his plate. I tell him all the time that Grandpa is turning in his grave, even though he isn’t dead. But if he sees that you’ll send him to an early grave. 

There’s a strategy to using sauce. That’s what I’m trying to convey in these hard times. Here’s how you now need to act in drive-thrus until things settle down. 

Rule number one. If you have a flavor affliction like myself, there’s a good chance you’re just as lazy as I am. But if you want your sauce, you have to go yourself. You can’t rely on those DoorDash crooks and certainly can’t rely on your parents. There is nothing worse than your mom coming home and finding out she forgot to ask for sauce. “Just use the BBQ sauce we have in the fridge.” That’s not even close to the same thing. 

When you pick up, you have certain rights allotted to you. You make the call on which sauces are asked for. So if you’re bringing the big McDonald’s order to your buddie’s house and you know you need extra Sweet and Sour and your weird friend requests that you ask for honey mustard or something dumb, don’t order it. It’s only going to rob the handful of the things you need. Also, don’t be afraid to slip a sauce in your pocket before you divvy up the food. If they complain there’s not enough sauce, blame it on the restaurant being stingy. You picked it up, consider it a delivery fee. 

Most importantly, there’s two key things about kids working the drive-thrus nowadays: they don’t really care about their jobs and they hate confrontation. Being direct is the most effective way to get the sauce you need. If you ask for two sauces, you know they’re probably only going to give you one of each. You know which sauce is more important to you and what will get more use. So tell them you need three of this sauce and one of the other. They know they shouldn’t but they don’t care enough to explain to you that it’s one per item and all that other nonsense. There’s a long line behind you and they need to keep it moving. They don’t have the time or energy to argue with you over it. They’ve been shafting people on sauce all day so they know they can afford to throw you a bone. 

Follow this blueprint and you just might make it through this. It’s troubling times for all of us. It’s a dog eat dog world out there, and if you have to eat another dog you’re gonna need some sauce. 

My New Hobby

I guess it’s my first hobby really. In my book, a hobby needs to be something that you do completely by yourself. Like snowboarding isn’t a hobby because you really just want to hot box your mom’s old minivan on the way up to a mountain with your friends. 

My work schedule is weird so I work a month with weekends off and then next month I work only weekends. And it rotates like that. My friends all work 9-5s so when I’m off during the week I needed something to fill the time. So I started collecting and selling used books. 

I’ve always been a big reading guy so it’s a way to profit off something I enjoy. I have a list of books that I search into different websites almost every day. Not to get into the details but first edition, first printing is what you’re looking for. The trick is to get someone who doesn’t know what they’re selling. I do buy off of different sites, but where I get the biggest chumps is easily on Facebook Marketplace. I bought a signed George RR Martin last week for 70$ and flipped it the next day for $400. But besides combing through hundreds of pages of book sites to bid on, I can go out into the wild to try to find rare books in person. Kind of like Pokémon. 

Thrift stores can be a rare find, same with flea markets, and most bookstores know what they have, and that’s where estate sales come in. Pretty much I wait for people to die and then rummage through their shit like a scavenger to see if I can make a buck while their body is still warm. And trust me, I’m not alone. Hundreds of people show up to these things. 

My first estate sale I was insanely out of my league. To advertise a sale the host posts pictures of everything they’re selling, but no prices. I saw a picture of a book from the 1700s that, depending 

on the condition and edition, was going for about 18k on the Internet. I thought I was a sly bastard who was going to buy it for twenty dollars. It was a forty minute drive and I showed up an hour and a half early. I thought I’d be alone, I was the 29th person there. I was a part of the third group that got to enter the house. All the books of value were gone, but I decided to take a look around anyway. When I tell you people, grown adults, were SPRINTING through this house. I shit you not some of them had electric book scanners that told them the value in real time. Like they worked at Barnes and Noble or something. I lasted fifteen minutes and left empty handed.

My next estate sale was a week later. I went two and a half hours early and was thirteenth on line. I made a friend this time, his name was Fred and he was maybe 80 years old. We struck up a conversation after both yelling at some creepy little weirdo who tried cutting the line and pretended like he didn’t know he was doing it. I liked Fred, but the more we talked the more clear it became that his philosophies were pretty dated. I really thought he was going to get me beat up when he told a group of hipsters that he “better smell them if the wind blows this way.” 

The house was like stepping into 1972. Shag rugs, wood panneled walls, even the air seemed muskier like there was constant dust in the air. The whole place had a yellow hue to it. I bought six books and an old jar of Tullamore Dew for $160. The Tully jar alone was $500 resale. But the highlight of my search was catching these two bonnet wearing, hard candy in their purses having, grannies, going through the vintage Playboys in old pervert’s bedroom. Unaware of my presence I said “excuse me” to get around them and they screamed and threw the nudie mags across the room. I told them I don’t judge and left. All in all it was about a $1800 day. 

My only issue is I’m falling in love with the books I’m buying. I’m having trouble letting go to sell them. My most expensive book could potentially be a 1st/1st Handmaid’s Tale if I get it signed like I’ve been trying to do. I tweeted it at Margaret Atwood saying it was my mom’s Mother’s Day gift and I was hoping to get it signed. There was no way my mom was getting that. Margaret must’ve seen through my bullshit because while others got a response all I got was crickets. My favorite book is my Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas by Hunter Thompson. It’s worth about $600 but I post it for triple that because I have no intentions of parting with it unless someone really stupid comes along. 

It’s a pretty cutthroat business, collecting books. I’m waiting on a few authors to die to increase the value on some books, and waiting on a few neighbors to croak so I can scavenge through their bookshelves. But I enjoy it. What kind of weird hobbies do you have?

What Is The Best Profession To Marry?

If your spouse could have any job in the world what do you wish it would be? In this hypothetical you can only choose based on set of skills that go with the profession, not salary. So for example, for the sake of this question, school teachers make the same as doctors. So you can’t say well I’d marry a doctor cause they’re rich. 

Let’s start off with the ones I wouldn’t want. 

Porn star jumped off the page for obvious reasons. I like to say I’m secure enough to handle the job description but I think it’d wear me down eventually. Plus it’d be tough to have your kid’s playground bullies shoving mommy’s or daddy’s videos from the Hub in their face. 

Police officer. Nobody likes cops anymore, but spouses have hated them long before the public. The divorce rate is at a constant range of 60-70%,  mostly stemming from police being twice as likely to be alcoholics. They’re at the top of the list for both cardiac and suicide. Plus the life expectancy is about 22 years younger than the average person. Not a great long term investment. 

Nobody wants to be the person being videoed, videoing their girlfriend or boyfriend. I can’t even imagine being married to an influencer. I’d call off a wedding before I had to take engagement photos. Nevermind that being your life every single day. Having to pretend to enjoy every single mundane activity for the rest of my life is a prison sentence. And you know if it doesn’t work out they’re going to post a tear-filled video putting you on blast all for the sake on content.

Many people might choose doctor, but I wouldn’t. Having that expertise in the house could be a blessing and a curse. I hate going to the doctor, I’m like 0-1000. I’ve never heard a doctor say “Good job, you’re looking healthy.” I don’t need to wake up to that kind of judgement every morning. 

Parking lot attendant- worst people on earth. They will be angry every day for the rest of your life and probably wind up scamming you out of something. 

I just realized I’m going to have a lot more don’t marry than do marry’s. Puts a bit of a damper on my title. It probably says a lot more about me than I care to admit. 

Top 3 Would Want To Marry

ASMR Youtuber. Due to the nature of my job, I have a pretty fucked sleep schedule. ASMRers hold a special place in my heart for helping me finally get some sleep. Having my own personal lullaby would be a God send. I honestly had this higher at first but I’ve never had a live ASMR session. It might freak me out and make me realize I’ve made a terrible mistake.

I think an obvious choice here is a chef. Every chef I’ve ever met loves showing off in their own kitchen. Think of the movie CHEF, that man poured his heart and sold into a god damned grilled cheese. I’m a big dude, so they’d find no better audience to showcase their talents than their loving partner. 

My number one is chiropractor. My back is going down and it’s going down quick. I found out that my insurance allows me two trips a month to the chiropractor and I’d propose tomorrow if I knew the answer would be yes. Some people need a reset on a relationship when the romance runs out. Keep resetting my lumbar spine and I promise we’ll never have that issue. 

I’m sure I missed some. On both sides of the fence. Mull it over, think of some of the best and worst professions to marry and get back to me. 

Jordan’s Royal Family Is Wild Right Now

Our country recieves a lot of flack from the rest of the world and probably rightfully so, but it’s still very overlooked that a lot of the world still lives in a literal fantasy land. We have fictional literary genres based on their country’s governing. Kings and Queens, Princes, Princesses, Lords, Ladies, and potential usurpers. Hated the end of Game Of Thrones? Check out what’s going on in Jordan to get your fix. 

It all starts with this guy. 

King Hussein became King of Jordan when he was seventeen years old. Two years after witnessing the assasination of his grandfather. Hussein lived a lavish life but was often revered as the man of the people. He might have driven a Jaguar but it was often through the streets of the common folk. King Hussein was known for his peaceful approach, even pardoning some of his own potential assassins who made attempts on his life. Hussein was Jordan’s longest running monarch and even introduced a democratically voted-in government. Plus he was handsome as fuck. 

(King Abdullah)

Hussein’s eldest son, Abdullah, has since ascended the throne. Since his reign began, Jordan has reached record levels in poverty, unemployment, and corruption. Among his people, Abdullah is viewed as a distant ruler and too flashy for a the head of collapsed economy. Plus they make fun of his Arabic, which can’t feel good. 

(Queen Rania)

Abdullah’s literal Queen, Rania, doesn’t help with his public image. She’s the Cersei to our Robert here. Often photographed in designer clothing while the country straves and flying to America to guest star on the Oprah Show when a million Jordanians are jobless. It was Queen Rania who appointed the heads of security and intelligence to further display her dominance in the country’s inner workings. 

Enter Prince Hamzah. 

Hazmah’s shocking resemblance to his father isn't the only parallel that he shares with the former beloved King. He is known for his charm and held in high regards by his people. Hamzah is Abdullah’s half-brother and has been critical, along with the rest of the country, of his brother’s mishandling of Jordan. The Prince has been visiting with the tribes of Jordan’s West Bank to speak his displeasures. The same tribes that fought alongside his great-great-grandfather in the Great Arab Revolt of WWI. On his Robb Stark shit. Support has been wavering towards the younger Prince. 

When it comes to speaking your mind, Abdullah has invoked a sense of fear amongst his nation. Journalists, civilians, and now apparently Princes. Prince Hamzah released two videos on what he views as the downfall of Jordan during his brother’s reign. Following the broadcast, Hamzah has been silenced and several high level arrests have been made. The Prince has been put on “house arrest” since his alleged coup attempt. Many believe Rania has orchestrated of censuring Hamzah. With the gag order in place, and Hamzah out of the public eye, his legend only grows stronger. 

I know this isn’t really like Thrones. The poverty in Flea Bottom isn’t real, it is in Jordan. Actual lives are on the line here. No matter how invested in Jon Snow you were, these stakes are higher. Jordan has been a symbol of inner peace while it’s surrounding neighbors have been riddled with civil war. But that might be changing soon with a King vs. Prince Heavyweight fight. While this obviously isn’t good news, it’s interesting to watch history unfold in real time.

(Also meant to mention this earlier, King Hussein met Abdullah’s British mother, his future Queen, on the set of Lawrence of Arabia. Total pimp.)

Article: https://airmail.news/issues/2021-5-1/if-you-think-the-house-of-windsor-has-issues

Future In-Laws Need To Be Banned From Bachelor Parties

It needs to be said. Everyone knows it’s an obligatory gesture that for some reason is always accepted. It’s the clashing of worlds. Your girl’s family and your buddies. Often times those two groups know two different personalities. And for whatever reason, we feel the need to put those two worlds on a crash course for your last ride with the fellas. 

From the groom’s perspective it’s a balancing act. No one knows if her brother is going to be cool with the things that are about to happen. Most of his friends are cool with it, but there’s always that one guy who’s a dick to him because he feels like he’s ruining the weekend. That guy normally brings cocaine. Instead of enjoying his own bachelor party, the groom now has to cater to his future in-law all night, someone no one wanted there in the first place, because he doesn’t know anyone. Meanwhile the groom just wants to take things too far with a stripper and cheat on his sister just a little bit. For good luck.

But does the in law even want to be there? That’s a lot of pressure. He’s never met the groom’s friends other than maybe a couple of quick introductions at a bar. What are you going to talk about? Work? No one wants to hear that shit at a bachelor party. Plus you know everyone that you’re sharing a house with for the weekend is literally rooting for your sister to get cheated on. Most of the time the in-law winds up overcompensating and going too far in order to prove to the group of strangers that he can hang. You’ve probably seen that guy at your own friend’s bachelor party. Do you want to be that guy?

My friend went as the in-law to bachelor party in Scottsdale over the weekend. We watched the draft together the night before he left and I asked him if he was nervous about doing something weird. He was so sure that he was going to be weird that he promised me he was going to take it easy. I worked 10:00 p.m. last night to 4:00 p.m. today. So at around 4:00 a.m. this morning I caught his Snapchat Story before he deleted it. He was black out drunk, which in his defense is one of your only playable moves. He was hanging on guys he didn’t know, kissing his sister’s fiancé on the cheek telling him he loved him, and ended it with him holding a girls face in the sloppiest make out session I’ve ever seen. This was all on his public story. I’ve never screenshot something so fast in my life. I sent him a single text this morning, “How many screenshots.”

“Too many.”

We’re adults. We can recognize that for the sake of healthy relationships some things should be kept separate and sacred. Most of the time I don’t even want my friends witnessing the things I do when I drink. Nevermind someone who’s related to the girl I’m about to marry. If you’re a groom send the invite, if your an in-law send back a bottle a booze saying sorry I can’t make it. No more in-laws at bachelor parties. 

This Kid Is Not Going Places

A soon to be 10 year old kid from Columbus, Ohio chose buffalo chicken pizza over a Nintendo Switch for his birthday. Granted, the buffalo chicken pizza is actually from Buffalo but that doesn’t excuse his terrible choice. Double digits off to a slow start. 

I wish this kid had said something like I’m an Xbox or PlayStation guy and my mom’s an idiot for offering me a Nintendo. But that isn’t the case. Nine year old Kenly, asked for both the Switch and the Buffalo buffalo pizza for his birthday and his mom told him to choose one. He chose wrong. 

Worst part is, his mom is from Buffalo. Kenly had it in the bag. Just sit back in the pocket with your new video game system and guilt her later on. A month later say you miss grandma and grandpa, now mom feels bad, brings you to Buffalo and bam now you get both. 

But he did get both. Savvy move by the pizza place he wanted to go to in Buffalo, Franco’s, for tweeting out that if they came to Buffalo they’d buy him the Nintendo Switch. National marketing for the price of a Switch. So yeah big win for Franco’s but you know who’s getting the loss? Kenly. Not only is he obviously a terrible decision maker but now he’s being taught there’s no consequences to his dumb choices. Yeah yeah I know, he’s nine. Well so was Oliver Twist.

Look I’m no stranger to sacrificing smart investments for short term pleasures, but I’m not going places either. 

Article: https://www.wkbw.com/news/local-news/ohio-boy-chooses-buffalo-pizza-over-nintendo-switch-for-10th-birthday-present?fbclid=IwAR2Jz0dB-USjDhDNictpP5LiOoK-_kPDc_LQIbSUggS64t7PqGOO1lPNnSI

My Solution To The Death Penalty

The topic of capital punishment has been a controversial issue in this country for over a hundred years. Seriously, Wisconsin was the first state to permanently ban the death penalty in 1853. Most people have strong opinions on the subject one way or the other. I’ve figured out the perfect solution. Blast them into space. 

The only issue I see arising with this compromise is if said convict is successful in finding other life. Do we really want a rapist or murderer representing us in our first contact? Probably not the best first impression. Or even worse, they’re so bitter about their conviction that they lead a crusade of aliens to wipe out Earth. Plus this person would be monumental to human history and glorified in history books. There would have to be a years long vetting process to find the perfect candidate. It’d have to be a really really nice murderer. 

The pros are that no one can really be mad about the outcome of the end of this person’s life. It’s Schrödinger’s space shuttle. People pro death penalty can find comfort in knowing this is a one way ticket, suicide mission. People anti death penalty can cling on to hope that this person found redemption in finding the answers to some of civilization’s biggest questions. All the while, we the public, will be none the wiser if they’re alive or dead. 

You’re welcome Supreme Court. 

Is This The Best Mock Draft Of All Time?

It is as far as The Huddle Report’ concerned. If you have a mock draft affliction like myself you’re probably aware of The Huddle Report. THR posts hundreds of different mocks from their Twitter from different podcasts, Sports Illustrated, NFL.com, and other analysts. The top guys each year tend to stay at the top and it’s a good place to find follows for mocks. But the belle of the ball this year is Josh Norris of Underdog Fantasy who had a record 59 points in the first round. 

The points system is as follows: 1 point for correctly choosing the round a player goes in and 2 points if you predict which team they go to. Josh paired 16 players to the correct team and mocked 27 out of the 32 players to go in the first round. Giving him the best first round Huddle mock ever. Elijah Moore, Owusu-Koramoah, Asante Samuel, Creed Humphrey, and Christian Barmore were the only players Norris incorrectly predicted into go first round. He had pretty impressive pairing projections -Trey Lance to SF despite the smoke, Waddle to the Dolphins at 6, Sewell falling to the Lions, and Eric Stokes to the Packers. Like wtf how did you know that last one?

Here’s his mock:

This guy has to be popping champagne. When you drop your nuts on the table with that kind of mock you have to be fielding calls from the big leagues. How could ESPN or NFL Network say they have legitimate draft analysts when they get smoked by a former 2014 Rams scouting intern who now runs a fantasy podcast. For comparison, Daniel Jerimiah of NFL Network in 2020 had a total of 89 points through all 7 rounds combined. This dude got 59 points in the first round alone. Josh Norris just won the mock draft equivalent of American Idol in Chris Moneymaker like fashion. 

Josh is good and all but I’m still king of the draft. Last year I had Jalen Hurts to the Eagles at +10000 and the Rams drafting a WR with their first pick at +6000 this year. So cute job Joshie but try and keep up.