The New Yorker has reviewed the new (and final) Star Wars movie. While the reviewer seems to be quite disappointed with what Lucas has done to the franchise, I still think it could be a nice two-hour no-brainer. We’ll see in a few days.
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If you’ve ever been a fan of the old Fighting Fantasy books as a child, here are some which never made it.
Also, play some online.
[via Linkbunnies.]
On a JET plane
- Image via Wikipedia
I was tempted to join the JET program when I graduated college but this account of an American’s experiences suggest it might have broken my naive fragile mind. An example:
Doctor skit again. I’d been helping these particular boys with vocabulary, so I kind of had an idea what was coming…but I was in no way prepared for it.
Boy 1: Oh, hi. What’s wrong?
Boy 2: (clutching his stomach) I have a pain here. I can’t go toilet.
Boy 1: When did it start?
Boy 2: Two months ago.
Boy 1: Ok. Open your buttcrack.Now, “open your buttcrack” is already strange enough. That alone might have been enough to amuse me for the rest of the day. What killed me though, was when Boy 2 stood up, hunched forward a bit, and with a facial expression that looked like he was sucking on a lemon while someone was telling him the family dog had been killed horribly, twice, he made this unforgettable “Huuuaaaaoooouuuugggghhhhh…..” noise. …What the hell is that?! The open your buttcrack noise? For you video gamers out there, imagine Guile’s defeat scream from Street Fighter II, except prolongued and…uh…more constipated. That, coupled with the face he made…it still cracks me up just thinking about it.
I mean really, there’s nothing more I can say about “Open your buttcrack” and “huuuuaaaaoooouuuugggghhhh” that could possibly make it any funnier.
There is no try. Do or do not.
The little blue engine looked up at the hill.
His light was weak, his whistle was shrill.
He was tired and small, and the hill was tall,
And his face blushed red as he softly said,
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.
So he started up with a chug and a strain,
And he puffed and pulled with might and main.
And slowly he climbed, a foot at a time,
And his engine coughed as he whispered soft,
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.With a squeak and a creak and a toot and a sigh,
With an extra hope and an extra try,
He would not stop now he neared the top
And strong and proud he cried out loud,
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!He was almost there, when
CRASH! SMASH! BASH!
He slid down and mashed into engine hash
On the rocks below… which goes to show
If the track is tough and the hill is rough,
THINKING you can just aint enough!
Some interesting thoughts on self-efficacy as opposed to confidence. Enough reading to keep me going for a day or two.
[via Limbic Nutrition.]
At Large no More
One of my favourite comedians, Dave Allen, has passed on. On his tombstone he wished the following:
Don’t mourn for me now
Don’t mourn for me never
I’m going to do nothing
For ever and ever.
Time to raise a glass of whiskey and smoke a cigarette to his legacy.
Dave, may your God go with you.
VD
Someone must have stolen all my cards.
Yule be sorry
I’ll be back in Dublin for the next couple of weeks. Have a restful Yule everyone.
Fighting for your right
It looks like, against all odds, Cambridge is going to be relaxing their licensing laws. I’d actually prefer to be sitting in a pub a little past closing than going to a nightclub where you pay money to make sure that the conversation and company you were enjoying can’t continue.
[via McFilter.]
Is the end in sight?
The good news:: They’ll stop boring us about another country’s election for a while.
The bad news: Four more years of inane monkey jokes.
MSN fun
Today’s random exchange:
[03:56:58 PM] DJ Edirley (: eae dj blz
[03:57:05 PM] DJ Edirley (: aki é seu macho
[03:57:43 PM] DJ Edirley (: o grande vç é dj Ryan d cbá?
I may have the username djryan, but I don’t think my parents christened me just so I can work in nightclubs.