“WE ARE IN A WIRELESSLY FORESAKEN LAND OF MALL-LESS-NESS!” I hear them scream.
But today I am laughing at them! Ha-Ha-HA! What makes today different? Because I am doing so from a really big mall. How big, you ask? I don’t mean to brag, but let’s just say it has an escalator. In fact, I can go ice skating, ride bumper cars and buy over-priced merchandise without even breaking a sweat. At least not until I get my credit card statement. Continue reading A few questionable observations at the mall
It’s Saturday morning, and that means I’m over at Long Awkward Pause chiming in with the rest of the staff for this week’s Saturday Six, which is a collection of six observations we probably should’ve kept to ourselves. This week’s topic? That “Sexy Mug Shot Guy” who made millions of women wish there was a Cell-Match.com…
Katie: This is the first time I’ve thought sexy mugshot guy was actually sexy, and that’s only because he’s next to Ben Stiller.
BrainRants: I’m too hetero to comment on the sexiness of either guy, real or imagined, but if I had to, I’d pick Stiller because he’d get his junk zipped up and I’d be off the hook.
Ned: This is actually a “Before/After” photo: Before he knew he was sharing a cell; after meeting his cellmate, “Three-legged Jack.”
(Okay, I’m no mathematician, but I believe that leaves, uh… *removes one Dos Eques bottle from six-pack*… five more over at LAP)
If we weren’t meant to eat animals, then why are they made out of meat?
Vegetarians, on the other hand, point out what separates us from animals is our ability to override our natural instinct, as human beings, to gag on tofu.
This uneasy co-existance is nothing new, and actually dates back to the very first vegetarian caveman who, after swearing-off meat in front of his clan and a panel of cave elders, was promptly eaten. Because of this, mistrust between carnivores and herbivores exists to this day. One example can be seen in the design of supermarkets, which strategically puts meat at the back of the store and fruits and vegetables near the front; should carnivores suddenly riot in the event of a rump roast shortage, herbivores will at least have a head start in getting to the exits. Continue reading One person’s mold is another person’s meat substitute
(My new posting schedule here at Ned’s Blog leaves Wednesdays open to any number of things, including updates to The Box with Skippy the Rabid Squirrel, The Door (of Shame, Blame and Brilliance) or, as in today’s case, a Wednesday Rewind. This column hasn’t appeared on the blog before and comes from 2002, when Carl’s Jr. was making a run at the highly coveted chicken nugget market. The ads, which were funny, also managed to ruffle some feathers…)
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As you may have heard, Carl’s Jr.’s recent commercials are raising quite a flap among chicken advocates. As you may not have heard, there really is a group of people who work full-time advocating for the rights of chickens (Though, as far as I can tell, not a single member of this group is, indeed, an actual chicken.)
The ad in question is the one that shows a group of scientists examining a live hen as they search for its “nuggets,” which, for me at least, helped explain a few things about my last doctor’s visit. But members of United Poultry Concerns — a chicken advocacy group based in Virginia — don’t see it that way, and want to have the commercial pulled because they say the mock examination “caused the chicken undue stress.”
In a statement given to the Los Angeles Times, UPC president Karen Davis was quoted as saying, “There’s no question that the bright lights of filming, in combination with the numerous takes, would make the experience stressful for the chicken.”
Considering that the chicken in that commercial was at least alive and flapping, one can only imagine how stressed-out a chicken must get when told it’s going to be in a commercial for KFC. Continue reading Search for ‘nuggets’ believed to cause stress in chickens
(Today I’m actually coming to you from the offices at Long Awkward Pause, where we like to say “offices” instead of climate-controlled storage units…)
It’s June 2014, and that means a new generation of newlyweds in The South will be racing past family and friends while being showered with frantically mating cicadas. What are cicadas you ask? Think really big crickets.
No, think grasshoppers on steroids.
Actually, think “Hopper” from A Bug’s Life.
For those who haven’t experienced cicada season, it’s easy to imagine if you keep one thing in mind: For six weeks, wherever you go and whatever you do, you will be doing it within the general vicinity of at least 200 cicadas, each of which will be participating in something generally reserved for late night cable. To make matters worse, thousands of male cicadas will be attempting to attract disinterested females by repeating a series of deafening mating calls, which entomologists, after years of research, have finally translated to mean: hey baby hey baby hey baby… (Click here for more at LAP)
As I flipped open my iPad, sipping my morning coffee, my wife nudged me and pointed to this before I could explore my WP Reader:
While coffee was brewing in our cluttered kitchen here in Florence, Ore., blogger Aman Shrivastava, a freshman engineering student at the Indian Institute of Technology in Roorkee, Uttarakhand, India, pushed the “follow” button — and became one of 4,500 people who have contributed to this blog reaching more people than I ever thought possible. I am constantly amazed and just as often humbled by all of you; your generosity of spirit; your witty and insightful comments that never fail to elicit a laugh (sometimes more than the actual post); your support of me and each other throughout the world; and your endless creativity, wisdom and acceptance, even when… Continue reading Thank You
(I’m over at the office of Long Awkward Pause today, where we are kicking off Kevin Spacey Week. Don’t bother looking for a Hallmark card. But you might want to tune in May 28, when he’ll be a guest on our podcast. I know — we’re not sure how that happened either. Especially after my interview with him…)
Though known for being tight-lipped about his private life, earlier this month it became no secret Kevin Spacey loves Mexican food. So it was no surprise when the two-time ®Oscar winner chose to meet for our interview at a quiet table in the back of Casa de Papitas, or “House of Chips,” a Hollywood-area nacho bar nicknamed “The Mexican Brown Derby” because of its celebrity clientele. I crossed the busy dining area past the nacho bar, which was nearly depleted after a visit from Brad and Angelina’s family, and saw Spacey at a small table in an alcove taking a selfie with a Mariachi band member.
“Let’s see how much s**t we can stir up with this Tweet, El Presidente,” said Spacey, who then motioned me over and stuck out his hand. “You must be from Long Awkward Pause.”
Admittedly star-struck, I only nodded.
“I figured as much, because this handshake is lasting way too long and is becoming awkward,” he said, then paused. “See what I just did there?” (Read more at LAP…)
As I think I’ve mentioned, I’m turning 48 this year. The good news is I have a friend who just turned 60. So, relative to him I am a young man — something I will keep reminding him of until that sad day when, unexpectedly, he knocks out my front teeth with his walker. My point is, when it comes to age, what seems relative can quickly change.
Yesterday, for example, I was eating at a fast-food place when I noticed a pair of college-aged girls taking glances at me from another table. This has happened before, which is why I instinctively went through a series of mental checkpoints drawn from previous experience:
1) Is there condiment blowback in my hair, on my chin or around my nostril(s)?
2) What am I wearing today, and is there any part I forgot to snap closed, zip up or buckle down?
3) Did I unknowingly allow any part of my body’s internal gastro intestinal process to be heard externally?
4) Am I slouching, hunched or otherwise postured in a manner that makes it appear I’m protecting my $3.99 Value Meal, possibly to the death?
And last,
5) Is there someone much younger and better-looking sitting directly behind me? Continue reading Age can be relative with the help of an all-beef patty
As many of you know, Skippy is a crucial part of helping me make a weekly random selection from The Box, which contains dozens of submitted photos that have remained unclaimed and unidentified in our newsroom since the 1980s. To ensure impartiality, I wait until my fellow reporters are deep in thought (deleting all traces of inappropriate Google searches) before spreading the photos on our newsroom floor and releasing Skippy. The photo closest to the first person to scream is selected as our mystery photo. Continue reading Skippy the rabid squirrel is coming to a town near you
Every press release that comes here to Siuslaw News crosses my desk and computer monitor at some point. That’s because, among my duties as a humor columnist is typing up things like obituaries, ambulance reports and other things that fall under the “humor umbrella.” At least, that’s how it’s been explained to me. This also includes public service announcements, which sometimes arrive as a hand-written note on a stained cocktail napkin.
When I asked why this is considered part of the coverage area under the “humor umbrella,” my editor explained it’s because my having to figure out someone’s scrawl on an ink-bled napkin “IS FUNNY!” Continue reading Another example of why I will eventually get fired
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