Habanerocouscous

cbcmusic:

Somebody posted a fake song title on Chubby Checker’s Wikipedia page and we think it is so funny.

Patriots linebacker (and Florida grad) Brandon Spikes won over pretty much everyone during media availability this morning with his choice of sweatshirt, which he clearly got at a shop on the boardwalk in every beach town everywhere.

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old people’s privates? sign me up.

The Children's Place, a massive retail chain, markets a t-shirt to girls that shows a checklist of "my best subjects" in which "shopping," "music" and "dancing" are ticked off and "math" is not ticked. Way to help us raise our daughters, guys.

We understand that there are plenty of demands on a little girl’s time, and that she can’t possibly be expected to excel at every subject in the school of life. But hey, according to The Children’s Place (henceforth to be referred to as TCP), it’s okay because her best subjects of Shopping, Music and Dancing are all covered. As for math? Nobody’s perfect, so do’t worry about checking off that subject.

The Children’s Place Shirt: Don’t Worry If You Aren’t Good At Math — There’s Always Shopping [Mary Beth Quirk/Consumerist]

The truth behind many of YouTube's most famous embarrassing pratfalls. [via Kotaku]

Suicide pact

Okay, so, um, here's your perception warping, good times stomping news of the day: Finding Nemo is a damn lie. Not in a oh fish can talk sort of harmless lie but in an oh my god Nemo would grow up to bone his dad sort of awful lie. The Fisheries Blog broke down the science of Finding Nemo and pretty much exposed that Nemo's mom would die, Nemo's dad would switch sex and Nemo would eventually mate with his female dad.

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Where to begin? This training video for cooks-in-training at Wendy's in the '80s features not only a hard-rockin' theme song, but an actual scene where a burger cook-in-training gets sucked into a television and rapped to about how to best cook a burger.

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We'll never truly understand how the Internet works. We've decided. Because by magic of opportunity, circumstance, aggregation, and douchebaggery, this two-year-old clip of Fort Worth musician Josh Weathers covering Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You" at a Dallas show has blown up. [ more › ]

San Diego Comic Con--The costumes! The celebrities! The stormtroopers!--makes your head spin enough as it is. But it took a trip to a nearby steakhouse for it to blow my mind. This is a Mac 'n' Cheese Martini. This is what the renaissance in American comfort food has come to.

Mac 'n' Cheese has already found its way into many top-notch restaurants, each offering their unique spin on the classic low-end dish. In Los Angeles alone, I've found lobster mac, shittake mac and kobe mac—all have delighted me. But this, this Mac 'n' Cheese Martini, is the ironic singularity where smoked cheddar, bacon bits, elegance and simplicity meet. Tanginess and crunch with a thick cheesy sauce, tippled—manually, by the diner—with a drizzle of vodka.

Boozy. Huge points for presentation, taste & plating. Next year, I expect penne a la vodka martini on the appetizers.

Previously: Grilled Cheese Martini

We had seen this bizarre video from Friday's Twins game, of Jared Burton decking Brian Duensing just as a home run sailed over the bullpen, but hadn't realized the mystery had been solved. The short answer: relievers have way too much time on their hands.

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At a charity bowling tournament in Houston this weekend, poor sonofabitch Troy Walker was one strike away from a 300 game. As his ball rolled toward perfection, the pinsetter went into action with perfect timing to deny him.

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And by that, I mean that he fails to celebrate striking out Omar Quintanilla, a .227 hitter. Obligatory Vine below.

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Congressional Republicans are fighting Obama's plan to put a base on the moon and use it to launch an asteroid-capture program which would give NASA some practice in deflecting future asteroid-strikes -- as well as setting the stage for more ambitious missions, such as one to Mars. This whole kerfuffle was predicted by the Onion, two years ago, in a story called "Republicans Vote To Repeal Obama-Backed Bill That Would Destroy Asteroid Headed For Earth."

The Onion, one of America's leading satirical news outlets, has predicted the future before. Al Qaeda squabbling with 9/11 truthers, for instance. Or the Onion's piece on George W. Bush ushering in an era of war and economic recession...published in January 2001.

The Onion Predicts Real Life: Republicans Block NASA's Asteroid Plan [Asawin Suebsaeng/Christian Science Monitor]

A long, long time ago, in a land where people had yet to even ponder words like "Reddit" and "Twitter," a bright-eyed arts and crafts company decided to embrace this crazy thing called the information superhighway. The year was 1997, and that company was Crayola. The results are absolutely glorious.

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Brian Orakpo unveiled his Bane-inspired facemask. We unreservedly love badass facemasks. [Redskins.com]

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Valley of the Dolls

by Mark Bibbins, Editor

Rape Joke

The rape joke is that you were 19 years old.

The rape joke is that he was your boyfriend.

The rape joke it wore a goatee. A goatee.

Imagine the rape joke looking in the mirror, perfectly reflecting back itself, and grooming itself to look more like a rape joke. “Ahhhh,” it thinks. “Yes. A goatee.”

No offense.

The rape joke is that he was seven years older. The rape joke is that you had known him for years, since you were too young to be interesting to him. You liked that use of the word interesting, as if you were a piece of knowledge that someone could be desperate to acquire, to assimilate, and to spit back out in different form through his goateed mouth.

Then suddenly you were older, but not very old at all.

The rape joke is that you had been drinking wine coolers. Wine coolers! Who drinks wine coolers? People who get raped, according to the rape joke.

The rape joke is he was a bouncer, and kept people out for a living.

Not you!

The rape joke is that he carried a knife, and would show it to you, and would turn it over and over in his hands as if it were a book.

He wasn’t threatening you, you understood. He just really liked his knife.

The rape joke is he once almost murdered a dude by throwing him through a plate-glass window. The next day he told you and he was trembling, which you took as evidence of his sensitivity.

How can a piece of knowledge be stupid? But of course you were so stupid.

The rape joke is that sometimes he would tell you you were going on a date and then take you over to his best friend Peewee’s house and make you watch wrestling while they all got high.

The rape joke is that his best friend was named Peewee.

OK, the rape joke is that he worshiped The Rock.

Like the dude was completely in love with The Rock. He thought it was so great what he could do with his eyebrow.

The rape joke is he called wrestling “a soap opera for men.” Men love drama too, he assured you.

The rape joke is that his bookshelf was just a row of paperbacks about serial killers. You mistook this for an interest in history, and laboring under this misapprehension you once gave him a copy of Günter Grass’s My Century, which he never even tried to read.

It gets funnier.

The rape joke is that he kept a diary. I wonder if he wrote about the rape in it.

The rape joke is that you read it once, and he talked about another girl. He called her Miss Geography, and said “he didn’t have those urges when he looked at her anymore,” not since he met you. Close call, Miss Geography!

The rape joke is that he was your father’s high-school student—your father taught World Religion. You helped him clean out his classroom at the end of the year, and he let you take home the most beat-up textbooks.

The rape joke is that he knew you when you were 12 years old. He once helped your family move two states over, and you drove from Cincinnati to St. Louis with him, all by yourselves, and he was kind to you, and you talked the whole way. He had chaw in his mouth the entire time, and you told him he was disgusting and he laughed, and spat the juice through his goatee into a Mountain Dew bottle.

The rape joke is that come on, you should have seen it coming. This rape joke is practically writing itself.

The rape joke is that you were facedown. The rape joke is you were wearing a pretty green necklace that your sister had made for you. Later you cut that necklace up. The mattress felt a specific way, and your mouth felt a specific way open against it, as if you were speaking, but you know you were not. As if your mouth were open ten years into the future, reciting a poem called Rape Joke.

The rape joke is that time is different, becomes more horrible and more habitable, and accommodates your need to go deeper into it.

Just like the body, which more than a concrete form is a capacity.

You know the body of time is elastic, can take almost anything you give it, and heals quickly.

The rape joke is that of course there was blood, which in human beings is so close to the surface.

The rape joke is you went home like nothing happened, and laughed about it the next day and the day after that, and when you told people you laughed, and that was the rape joke.

It was a year before you told your parents, because he was like a son to them. The rape joke is that when you told your father, he made the sign of the cross over you and said, “I absolve you of your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” which even in its total wrongheadedness, was so completely sweet.

The rape joke is that you were crazy for the next five years, and had to move cities, and had to move states, and whole days went down into the sinkhole of thinking about why it happened. Like you went to look at your backyard and suddenly it wasn’t there, and you were looking down into the center of the earth, which played the same red event perpetually.

The rape joke is that after a while you weren’t crazy anymore, but close call, Miss Geography.

The rape joke is that for the next five years all you did was write, and never about yourself, about anything else, about apples on the tree, about islands, dead poets and the worms that aerated them, and there was no warm body in what you wrote, it was elsewhere.

The rape joke is that this is finally artless. The rape joke is that you do not write artlessly.

The rape joke is if you write a poem called Rape Joke, you’re asking for it to become the only thing people remember about you.

The rape joke is that you asked why he did it. The rape joke is he said he didn’t know, like what else would a rape joke say? The rape joke said YOU were the one who was drunk, and the rape joke said you remembered it wrong, which made you laugh out loud for one long split-open second. The wine coolers weren’t Bartles & Jaymes, but it would be funnier for the rape joke if they were. It was some pussy flavor, like Passionate Mango or Destroyed Strawberry, which you drank down without question and trustingly in the heart of Cincinnati Ohio.

Can rape jokes be funny at all, is the question.

Can any part of the rape joke be funny. The part where it ends—haha, just kidding! Though you did dream of killing the rape joke for years, spilling all of its blood out, and telling it that way.

The rape joke cries out for the right to be told.

The rape joke is that this is just how it happened.

The rape joke is that the next day he gave you Pet Sounds. No really. Pet Sounds. He said he was sorry and then he gave you Pet Sounds. Come on, that’s a little bit funny.

Admit it.





Patricia Lockwood is the author of Balloon Pop Outlaw Black (Octopus Books, 2012). Follow her on Twitter at @TriciaLockwood.

You will find more poems here. You may contact the editor at poems@theawl.com.

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The post A Poem By Patricia Lockwood appeared first on The Awl.

C'mon, boo.

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The bar for an amazing ceremonial first pitch has been raised. Before a game between the Doosan Bears and Samsung Lions in Seoul, South Korea, rhythmic gymnast Shin Soo-ji rotated her whole body on one leg and threw an amazing pitch. It wasn't a strike, but how severely are we going to judge this?

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The Lansing Lugnuts, the Blue Jays Single-A affiliate, managed to lose a baseball game in the worst possible way when they took on the Great Lakes Loons on Monday night.

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John Brownlee investigates why Stinkor, a 30-year old action figure from Mattel's He-Man lineup, still smells terrible. Surely such an ancient toy would have gone inert? No, no.

If you pick up a vintage Strawberry Shortcake today, she’ll just smell like a doll. Stinkor? Kids today are still marveling at his stench. He’ll smell for decades yet.

Great googly-moogly.

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Check out this awesome Google Maps game I found, GeoGuessr (way #102 to waste time), while on my lunch break this past week.

Basically, they plunk you on Google Maps somewhere…and you have to use context clues to figure out where in the world you are.

There really aren’t many rules, but everything that is an easy context clue (like license plates, road signs, etc.) are blurred out!

It is quite fun, and you get 5 different places to try out each quiz!

Let’s see if you can beat my score of 13,673:

1. This first one was some random place in Florida (pictured above)…and while I “drove” for awhile on that road, there were no context clues at all!  So I guessed Oregon…and obviously was quite a ways off, but they still awarded me 1657 points!

 

2. This had a few more context clues once you “drove” down the road a bit further…so I google mapped the names on the sign and figured out that I was somewhere East of Perth, AU so I guessed somewhere between those 2 cities and was only 125km off so I was awarded 2904 points

 

3. This one I looked around a bit and found a No Parking sign which when zoomed in had a local number to call, thus found out I was somewhere in Hawaii!   Right now I’m feeling pretty confident with my survivor skills!  Of course I’ve only been placed in English speaking areas…2773 points.

 

4. I spoke too soon!  I am now somewhere either in Europe or Russia.  Having been to Italy, I know that the names of the streets are normally on the buildings, so I start searching for a few street names.  But this place has names with letters I have never before seen…BINGO this time I missed by .22 KM which means I got it exactly right!  Wow and I got 3171 points

 

5. And finally the 5th and final place…ooh this place looks like rainbow road in SC but the cars have european license plates.  But wait everything is in English, all this one took was a couple of clicks through google maps to find exactly where I was!  Somewhere in Scotland…3168 points

For a Grand Total of 13,673

This would be fun on the church overhead, a great ice breaker!

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