I'm trying this out as my new motto.
How F**ing American Are You? (Flash) (Farners keep out!)
Result: I'm "definitely not F**ing American", but "definitely not a traitor to our country". Whew.
Not that great a quiz, but I kinda like the music.
A pleasant exercise.
Heard on the radio, this nurses' slogan:
"Ni nonne ni bonne ni conne"
(very hard to say quickly and repeatedly).
It would be fun to live in an exotic foreign country and have as your job making up hilarious nonsense English to print on fashionable t-shirts.
Seniors Rule and Hall of Douchebags had me laughing, a bit in the style of Svenska Dansband. The mean comments and relentless repetition get my giggles going. This comic device even works for as bland a subject as the classic grading the world's flags.
(from Mefi: I waste time so you can waste time more efficiently).
This gives new meaning to the term "underground cinema."
Just how cold does it get in New Zealand, anyhow?
A Bush America I think we can all vote for.
I liked this place, where a packed mixed crowd dances with equal abandon to Pussy Control and to Lynyrd Skynyrd.
I liked it, that is, after I picked my jaw off the floor and had a few beers. You kinda had to be there to know what I mean. If a lot of bars are like this maybe I need to get out more. (It was also a big contrast with Blue, one of uptown Charlotte's most romantic restaurants, where we'd been talked into dining by the TVT girls, in the new Hearst Tower and near the Touch My Building art work.)
I guess there could be feminist and/or conservative objections to this kind of place. It's part of a chain and seems to be sponsored by Playboy. It looked like a DIY strip club, or a gay club, but for heteros. Bizarrely I couldn't stop thinking of the Bush twins. It also felt like I'd fallen into MTV, or into one of those "Wild Spring Break" videos. But everyone really seemed to be having fun, so it was better than the photos suggest. Some things just can't be blogged.
Can you spot a fake smile? I got 15 out of 20.