The Narcissus Award


Let’s face it: I’m pretty great. No, strike that. I’m fucking amazing. And nobody knows that better than I do. I looked around for a way to reward myself for being so wonderfully me, and I just couldn’t find anything that was worthy of my magnificence, so I went out and created one (because I’m just that damn talented*). I present to you the Narcissus Award for Blogging Excellence and All Around Awesomeness.

Because I'm worth it.

Yes, I think that about sums it up.

You may be thinking, “But Bob! There are already so many blogging awards out there, and didn’t you win one already? Why create another one?” Thank you for asking. Yes, I did already win one, because that’s just how great I am. But the truth is nobody appreciates me like I do, because nobody else can. That’s why I created this award. It shows the brilliance, the perspicacity, the sheer audacious vision, and of course the humility of the recipient all in one masterful stroke.

Should you (erroneously) think you are deserving of the Narcissus Award, here are the rules:

  1. Nobody can give the award to you except yourself. After all, who else is wise enough to truly recognize the scope of your contributions to humanity?
  2. Display it prominently on your own blog. It’s not bragging, it’s simply acknowledging your greatness, which everyone else should be doing anyway.
  3. Be sure to link back to the blog you stole  appropriated rightfully acquired it from. After all, how can others appreciate your genius without having something to compare it to?
  4. Be sure to copy and paste these rules along with your new award, in case someone else makes the mistake of thinking they are somehow better than you.
  5. Feel free to ignore any and all of these rules. After all, only you really understand you.

 

 

 

*It’s within the realm of possibility I may have had some design help from Navare Carter, which is completely irrelevant except to prove just how awesomely generous I am to acknowledge him in the same breath as my fantastic self. You’re welcome, Navare.


My Not So Humble Opinion Presents: Real Men of Genius – Tabletop Role-Playing Gamer


My Not So Humble Opinion Presents: Real Men of Genius

♫♪♫ (Real Men of Genius.) ♫♪♫

Today we salute you, Mr. Tabletop Role-Playing Gamer.

♫♪♫ (Mr. Tabletop Role-Playing Gamer!) ♫♪♫

You’re the greatest tactician of your generation, but you still wheeze when you walk more than twenty feet.

♫♪♫ (Give me an endurance check!) ♫♪♫

You can conquer a gargantuan white great wyrm, but you can’t seem to conquer a shower.

♫♪♫ (What IS that smell?) ♫♪♫

The only time you’ve seen a real woman is when that one lady accidentally wandered into your favorite gaming store that night.

♫♪♫ (A hush fell over the room!) ♫♪♫

So crack open an ice cold beverage, Mr. Tabletop Role-Playing Gamer. Because Saturday night’s all right for imaginary fights.

♫♪♫ (Mr. Tabletop Role-Playing Gamer!) ♫♪♫


My Not So Humble Opinion Presents: Real Men and Women of Genius


My Not So Humble Opinion Presents: Real Men and Women of Genius

♫♪♫ (Real Men and Women of Genius.) ♫♪♫

Today we salute you, Mr. and Ms. Public School Teacher.

♫♪♫(Mr. and Ms. Public School Teacher!)♫♪♫

Only you would choose to get a Master’s degree so you can go back to school… making minimum wage.

♫♪♫ (Sounds like a crappy deal!) ♫♪♫

Others might work for money or a cause, but you work for eighty screaming kids and their batshit crazy parents.
♫♪♫ (Not another email!) ♫♪♫

Sure, we talk a good game about the children being the future, but we’re still going to vote down every tax hike for education, and you soldier on anyway.

♫♪♫ (Not getting a raise!) ♫♪♫

So crack open an ice cold beverage, Mr. and Ms. Public School Teacher. Because at least summer is right around the corner.

♫♪♫ (Mr. and Ms. Public School Teacher!) ♫♪♫

 


Love is in the Air


Spring has at last sprung, and as the great cycle continues, so does a person’s fancy turn at this time of year to thoughts of love. But not everyone expresses that fancy in the same way. Let’s pause for a moment and consider how different folks might express themselves using a classic formula.

 

Atheist

Roses are red, violets are blue,

That has nothing to do with God, because He doesn’t exist.

 

Feminist

Roses are red, violets are blue,

Infantilizing love poetry is a sign of the Patriarchy.

 

Surrealist

Roses are red, violets are blue,

Green fish toaster.

 

Dog

Roses are red, violets are blue,

I already peed on them, are you gonna eat that?

 

Cat

Roses are red, violets are blue,

Who cares? Worship me.

 

Teacher

Roses are red, violets are blue,

Stop running in the halls and keep your hands to yourself.

 

Jewish Mother

Roses are red, violets are blue,

When are you going to come visit? And what, I don’t even get a phone call?

 

Engineer

Roses are red, violets are blue,

Redundancy is good, and violets are blue.

 

Anarcho-Capitalist

Roses are red, violets are blue,

You can have as many of each as you like for the right price.

 

Communist

Roses are red, violets are blue,

I take them from the rich and give them to you.

 

Right Wing Radio Host

Roses are red, violets are blue,

We’d have more flowers if it weren’t for government regulations stifling American innovation; I personally blame Barrack HUSSEIN Obama and his kleptocratic cronies who insist on bleeding average Americans dry so they can support their bloated bureaucracy rather than let the free market decide what the people ACTUALLY want, unless of course that something happens to clash with my own personal morals and beliefs.

 

Left Wing Radio Host

Roses are red, violets are blue,

You’re listening to NPR.

 


The Fortune Cookie Game


The other day I was having lunch with Keri at a Chinese restaurant, and of course we enjoyed the Fortune Cookie Game after our meal. For those of you who aren’t aware, the way it works is that you take your fortune from the cookie as written and append the phrase “in bed” to the end. Not only does this yield hilarious results, they often make more sense than the original fortune.

I started riffing on the sorts of fortunes that would be most appropriate for this sort of game, and Keri suggested I write them down and share them with you all. I decided to take up the challenge, and have listed here everything I could think of that made sense as a fortune cookie fortune (as much as they ever do) but was even better when you play the game.

Feel free to offer your suggestions in the comments!

 

He who speaks before he thinks dines alone.

Never come between a man and his best friend.

A truly determined person will never be lonely.

I come from a land down under.

Always say “please” and “thank you”.

Costumes, props, lights and sound are all just window dressing; the play’s the thing.

The limits of the body are determined by the limits of the imagination.

Nobody likes a quitter.

A man is measured by the scope of his dreams and the reach of his grasp.

Fast pay makes fast friends.

Anything you say can and will be used against you.

The ability to endure, above all other gifts, is the most precious.

It’s rude to make faces.

There is nothing wrong with being early or being late, so long as you arrive in time for the main event.

Thank you for not smoking.

The keeping of animals is not permitted.

Nobody gets to choose their own nickname.

You must be at least 18 years old to enjoy this attraction.

Excepting rare and self-evident circumstances don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.

Listening is underrated.

There’s nothing wrong with asking permission.

There are no spectator sports.

For all its flaws, democracy is still the superior choice.

A true gentleman carries a handkerchief, never asks a woman her age, and always lets a lady go first.

Please silence all cell phones and pagers.

If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish any goal.

Nobody likes a rules lawyer.

Snacks are always welcome, but a proper guest cleans up after themselves.

Always save the last dance for the partner you came with.

Don’t talk with your mouth full.

Keep your friends close, but keep your enemas closer.

It’s easier to get permission than to ask forgiveness.

 

 

 


Ol’ Man Winter


Ol’ man Winter,
Dat ol man Winter,
He act like a playa,
But he mus’ be a hater,
He jes’ keeps trollin’
He keeps on trollin’ along.

He don’ like birdies,
He don’ like flowers,
An’ dem dat likes ‘em
Is shovelin’ fo’ hours.
But ol’man Winter,
He jes keeps trollin’along.

You an’me, we sweat an’ strain,
Body all achin’ an’ racket wid pain,
Tote dat salt!
Lif’ dat snow!
Drive on ice
An’ away you go.

Ah gits weary
An’ sick of tryin’
Ah’m tired of shovelin’
To the point of cryin’,
But ol’ man Winter,
He jes’keeps trollin’ along.

[musical interlude]

Don’t look up
An’ don’t look down,
You don’ want to see
De white stuff around.
Bend your knees
An’bow your head,
An’ lift that shovel
Until your dead.

Ol’ man Winter,
Dat ol man Winter,
He act like a playa,
But he mus’ be a hater,
He jes’ keeps trollin’
He keeps on trollin’ along.

Long ol’ Winter forever keeps trollin’ on…


What’s REALLY Going on in Crimea?


There’s a lot of speculation going around lately about what’s the source of all the trouble in the Crimea region of Ukraine. Many are blaming Moscow for stirring up trouble, possibly as a precursor to an invasion. I’m here to reassure you now that the truth is something far, far more sinister:

It’s the people at Rand McNally.

To understand why, you have to go all the way back to the end of the 1980s and the beginning of the 1990s. Things were looking good at first for high school students; we had one less Germany to memorize for Geography class, and only one Berlin to worry about, but we still had it pretty easy as far as Eastern Europe and Asia went. Basically all you had to know was “U.S.S.R.” and “China” and you got at least a C.

Then suddenly the U.S.S.R. broke up without any warning, and overnight we’ve got a Georgia that was never on our minds, more –ia’s than a Cthulhu summoning, and so many Stans you’d think it was a callback for “A Streetcar Named Desire”. In short, we got screwed. Oh sure, you might think the concerns of a few high school students pale in comparison to the desperate need to live free of tyranny, but you are overlooking one key element: these were the future mapmakers of the world. And nobody messes with mapmakers with impunity.

They bided their time, waiting decades to get all the pieces in place. They manipulated elections, staged revolutions, and even plotted assassinations where they needed to. Think I’m being paranoid? Think about this: they know where you live. They know where everybody lives. Nobody dares to cross them, not if they know what’s good for them. Do you really believe the Apple Maps roll-out was such a disaster because Apple can’t design an app? They wouldn’t play ball, and they got punished for it. Google pays their dues every month.

And now those poor high school kids who failed Geography because of a bunch of whiners who yearned to be free of a totalitarian regime are finally getting their ultimate revenge. They’ve manipulated the world and Russia in particular to dance to their merciless tune, all for one purpose: to thin out the number of countries they have to print on a map.

Hey, it’s less crazy than anything Vladimir Putin can come up with.


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