Thursday, September 20, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
First Amendment rights aside, if you plan to be a loudmouth schmuck for the benefit of your Webpage and scoring chicks at the next WarCraft convention, don't beg and scream like a sissy-boy having a tickle fit when you discover as a result of your tomfoolery, you're about to meet the business end of a taser. We've all seen it, but damn it it's still funny to see jumpy campus cops jackboot this doughy attention-whore - roll-it!
So that's not how you want to be seen when you get defibrillated against your will. Simply, screaming several octaves higher than Lisa Simpson will not get you laid or coalesce the sympathies of civil libertarians. With that said we would like to compare and contrast the following on how one should instigate and receive a Taser shot - roll-it!
Case in point, if you're going to be belligerent and piss off cops, you do so with bravado and hyperbolic threats. Requesting that the officers let loose the police dog so you can "box him" is a master stroke. Refusing to unclench your fists and standing your ground when you hear the officer request that a junior officer come over and release the taser from their holster is another balls of steel move. Despite this gentleman's immediate attitude reversal as a result of being lit-up like a Tesla coil, he still gets high marks for taking more than two jolts which will most assuredly get you the respect of your drunk tank mates.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
We all know about the Teletubbies and their vice-grip on the minds of children and their quasi-magical powers in creating homosexuals. But a new threat has emerged picking up where the Teletubbies left off. They have a name and that name is Boohbah.
The Boohbah creature is eerily familiar to the creature known as "grimace" from the Ronald McDonald pantheon. So much so, I'm guessing legal proceedings are already underway. They are equally as functionally illiterate and lack the necessary anatomy to annunciate spoken language. They appear to use high pitched sound blurts to communicate. They scoff at the laws of physics by easily defying gravity which has obviously led to the advanced atrophy of the lower legs and feet.
If there are any redeeming facets to the Boohbah it is that recorded audio of their musings can be used as a weapon for both interrogation as a result of rendition and seriously pissing off roommates and/or cubicle neighbors.
Follow these simple instructions to inflict maximum annoyance:
- Wait for targeted cubicle occupant to leave their cubicle
- enter said cubicle, access the Boohbah website - click on the Boohbah masthead
- Click on the gaggle of Boobahs (see below screenshot)
- click on all of the musical circles above their heads
- turn the computer volume to maximum
Posted by Cerebral Itch at 9:48 AM
Monday, September 17, 2007
We know we haven't posted in a few and to that we say: "get off our ass!". It's been another drunken blur thanks to the hijinks we kicked off last week celebrating the last day of work for Tony Snow.
And because most of us are still lit, I'm going to go out on a limb here and state something quite provocative: Tony Snow is, was and will forever be an asshole. I had to either shoot out the TV like Elvis or leave the room every time a news anchor or correspondent began to sniffle and wax melancholy over Tony. Fine. we know the man is dealing with cancer and we had to watch him slowly getting ravaged by chemo, but lest we forget the man was a sanctimonious shill who served as the first line of defense for the Bush Administration.
Check out this collection of his greatest hits:
Tony Snow on Iraqi Occupation
Tony Snow on Scooter Libby
Tony Snow on the Attorney Scandal
Tony Snow on Al Qaeda
Tony Snow just plain lying
Do you honestly think when he sits down with St. Peter at the Pearly Gates he's going to get a fast-pass through to heaven? I imagine it would go something like this:
St. Peter: So Anthony, it says here that you defended an illegal war, a corrupt administration and lied to people daily claiming it was in the best interest of their nation. And before that you worked for FoxNews - don't even get me started on that one...
Tony Snow: Now wait a minute St. Peter, I did my job to the best of my ability and had the respect and admiration of my colleagues. I also was a good father...
St. Peter: I'm going to cut you off right there Anthony. Do you have any concept as to how many borderline cases I get coming through here claiming they did their best? I'm still getting letters daily from Nixon and Harding begging me to let them in. You're going to have to sit there for 1000 years and reflect on the life you led and then maybe, and I mean maybe, I'll start processing your paperwork.
POOF! Big cloud of red smoke, the temperature shoots up about 35 degrees and cherubs start dropping from the sky
Minion of Satan: Hey Tony, name's Moloch, glad I was able to catch you. Say listen, my boss would like to extend an offer of employment to you. He's been looking for a person with your skill set for quite some time.
Tony Snow: Really? What's it pay? I don't know if you knew, but I saddled my family with a lot of debt just so I could juice my resume by becoming press secretary. I take it you can help me there?
Minion of Satan: Oh Tony please, bestowing obscene wealth is our specialty - we invented gambling for Christ sake, ooh did I say that? Sorry Peter. Anyway, you want the job it's yours. First class accommodations, restore you to your physical prime and we'll cater to whatever vice you got a jones for.
Tony Snow: I'm in, let me grab my flute.
Minion of Satan: Uh no. That's pretty much our only condition is that you no longer play any music. I mean for Christ sake, oops, sorry Pete my bad again; we invented Rock and Roll, Jazz and Hip Hop - We bring it white boy. We've seen you play and frankly, you make John Tesh look like Prince. We have standards Tony and you suck.
Tony Snow: Alright fine - you've got a deal.
Minion of Satan: All good here Pete? We can have this one?
St. Peter: Sure take him. I'm too busy as it is. Plus, I'll be sending you Cheney and Kissinger any day now. Just get out of here, you're scaring the new arrivals and stinking up the joint.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
And be sure to dip your toe back into reality and watch this clip from C-Span’s Washington Journal yesterday. Where Rep. Christopher Shays has a rare Republican moment of non-talking point candor. He was asked by a caller why we are still in Iraq, Shays admits it’s because we just can’t let any other country control all that oil.
source: Crooks and Liars
Monday, September 10, 2007
So apparently $3000 cash (twenties and fives) and a Ziploc quart bag of seriously dank Maui Chronic stuffed in an green Adidas duffle bag deposited in an east facing trash bin outside the Riviera Hotel parking structure (as instructed) will get you two all access passes to the MTV Video Music Awards - Veejay and I were in.
One may ask why we went to this kind of trouble to get into last night's televised mind screw of America's 15-25 year olds. Well, our old friend Britney Spears was opening the show and that little witch owes us quite a bit of money for breaking the terms of her contract when she was the Cerebral Itch spokesperson (click here for the background story).
Veejay and I flew into Las Vegas yesterday morning armed with subpoenas and a six-pack of whoop-ass for anyone who stood in our way in getting to Ms. Spears. I had misgivings about bringing Veejay considering the pooch-screw he wrought in New York at the Live Earth concert when he literally threw himself on, not at, but on Cameron Diaz. My rationale for this trip was Veejay had never been to Vegas so there was a little altruism, but mostly it was because he would make good bouncer-bait if shit went south.
Our plan was to soak up all the glamour and schwag at the pre-show party, grab a seat in the backstage lounge and spring like the panthers that we are on Britney as soon as she finished her opening number. Well, best laid plans. No sooner did we arrive at the Palms that Veejay spotted 50 Cent and his crew playing craps in the high roller lounge. Veejay, always the cool customer in the face of manufactured fame, fancies himself a bit of a hip-hop aficionado and proceeded to rush 50 Cent and his boys. Arms swaying side to side grabbing his nuts trying to look urban, intermittently throwing gang signs that made him look like he had the palsy. I swear to god, it sounded like a sound effects recording session for a John Woo movie when 50 Cent's chums simultaneously drew and cocked their glocks all aiming for Veejay's forehead. Rushing in to avert the bloodshed, 50 Cent notices my platinum Cerebral Itch lapel pin. Much to my surprise, 50 Cent is a huge Cerebral Itch fan - loves our cards and reads the blog. He couldn't get over the fact that it was really Veejay who stormed him and was somewhat flattered. He asked if we would do his Christmas cards to which I agreed, clearing up the brouhaha. We politely excused ourselves (I made Veejay kiss his ring and apologize) and made our way upstairs to the Playboy Club to take the edge off before we executed our mission.
Kid Rock and Tommy Lee were already going at it in the lounge area which made it easy for me to spot Kanye West hanging back with the ladies. My other purpose on this trip was to see Kanye and personally deliver our new Dick Cheney/DNR shirt. The man beamed, hugged me and proceeded to introduce us to his harem all while offering us lukewarm overpriced alcohol served off of Playboy bunny asses. Kanye knew why we were really there and gave me his support, "that bitch needs to be put down - if that was a black girl doing all that shit there'd be jail time." To which I thought bringing up mother-of-the-year Whitney Houston wasn't such a good idea.
We finally made it to the theater, where we settled in with our free Boost mobile phones, spa certificates and watched the show start. We soon stood up amazed at what we were watching. It looked like a talent show at a Rotary Club in bumf*ck Alabama where the big number was some guy's daughter doing a Britney Spears impersonation, except we were looking at Britney Spears doing the shittiest impersonation EVER of Britney Spears?! The best part was looking around at the faces of other people backstage. There was head shaking, laughing and even crying. Christina Aguilera was punching her fist in the air hissing "I win, I win!". I looked at Veejay and posed the question "can I really serve her with $15 million dollar lawsuit considering she's fat, devoid of talent and just hit rock bottom on international television?" No sooner did I finish my sentence then Veejay grabbed the subpoena, jumped into a passing crowd which turned out to be Britney leaving the stage and jammed it in her cleavage like a freakin' Jedi Knight. He coolly looked her in the eye and said "courtesy of your former employer". After that was tackled, pummeled and zip-tied. As he was being dragged away to I still don't know where, he flashed me a bloody smile and winked knowing he had done good.
Veejay is my new best friend.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
The above sound clip is a 144 karat audio gem. It is Paul Anka busting the balls of his crew for their dull intellect and slovenly tendencies. The man is a perfectionist and a poet; in it you will hear perhaps the greatest threat metaphor of all time: slices like a hammer. genius.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
So once again some numb nuts broke the channel knob off of the Zenith console TV in the lunchroom and this time the channel that Ellen Degeneres' show is on was the one that was going to stay until someone found the goddamn needle-nose pliers. After lunch most of us were still loitering in the lunchroom because let's face it, we're on freakin' easy street with our t-shirts sellin' like hotcakes. So Ellen comes on and one of the guests is that old Paula Deen broad who has the cooking show that makes shit so fattening and disgusting she should be waking up every morning to piles of cash on her veranda secretly and gratefully delivered by cardiologists from all over the country. Case in point, today's recipe:
Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding with Butter Rum Sauce
2 dozen Krispy Kreme donuts
1 (14-ounce) can sweetened condensed milk (not evaporated)
2 (4.5-ounce) cans fruit cocktail (undrained)
2 eggs, beaten
1 (9-ounce) box raisins
1 pinch salt
1 or 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
Butter Rum Sauce, recipe follows
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Cube donuts into a large bowl. Pour other ingredients on top of donuts and let soak for a few minutes. Mix all ingredients together until donuts have soaked up the liquid as much as possible.
Bake for about 1 hour until center has jelled. Top with Butter Rum Sauce.
Butter Rum Sauce:
1 stick butter
1 pound box confectioners' sugar
Rum, to taste
Melt butter and slowly stir in confectioners' sugar. Add rum and heat until bubbly. Pour over each serving of Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding.
This woman cooks like a five-year-old given carte blanche by it's mother to throw anything they want into a bowl and bake it just to entertain the little shit on a rainy day. Most of us were stunned to the bejeezus that she was even being allowed to broadcast this trailer trash plaque factory in Pyrex. Veejay had to go puke when he saw the old lady tongue a stream of condensed milk Ellen poured into a mixing bowl. We convinced him that this was how lesbian porn starts and he better leave the room if he didn't want to have to wash his eyes out with bleach.
The funniest part was when Silvio our new intern said if he knew the end of the world was coming he'd make this concoction, wash it down with a 64oz tumbler of sour mash on ice and chain smoke a pack of Lucky Strikes all while being serviced by a midget platinum blonde hermaphroditic prostitute. This was funny for two reasons actually: one, we didn't even know Silvio could speak English and two, it made Veejay puke again.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
The Cerebral Itch offices were recently faced with a technical dilemma that we thought an established brand in the IP telephony space could solve. We tripped on over to the Vonage website and found that we could try them out for a month free and no one would get hurt.
Well, is my ass sore. Vonage turns out to be a den of duplicitous pricks who have nothing better to do than piss people off with fine print. Here's how they get you:
$99.99 VTech IP8100-1
($80.00) VTech IP8100-1
$29.99 Activation Fee
$14.99 Residential Basic 500 Plan
$0.99 Regulatory Recovery Fee
$0.99 Emergency 911 Cost Recovery
$1.01 Federal Universal Service Fee:
Okay, fine. give me a phone for twenty bucks after your $80 rebate. No skin off your nose Vonage considering the sweet OEM deal you probably have with VTech that let's you buy the things for $5 a piece. I guess I'll let you stick me with the always nebulous "Activation Fee"; which you'd think in this day and age it wouldn't cost $30 to assign me a number and flip a goddamn switch. So, $77.81 all total ain't free, but I know nothing in this world is except advice from father-in-laws and pain in the ass CPA's who think they know your business better than you, but I digress.
Now pay attention, this is where they light the candles, cue the smooth R&B and get ready to violate you.
We found the service marginal, customer support "occidental" and not "continental" if you get my drift. And after a month we realized we could do better with more reliable technology (if you're curious, that would be a 6.0 Ghz DECT landline phone - the new no-interference standard for cordless phones). So one phone call later to Kamal (I swear that is his real name) at Vonage Customer support allows me to discover that it's going to cost me more to kill my service than to sign up for it. The classic bait and switch that apparently has the blessing of the FCC. This is how the weasels get you on the way out:
$80 to rescind their rebate - because now you own the phone. That's right, they will not take their equipment back. Circuit City? They'll take back a phone you bought from them. Best Buy? Them too. Vonage? No dice. So now you're stuck with a piece of shit phone that wont work with conventional phone lines. Then there's the final slap on the ass as they push you out of the car half naked and weeping: a $40 DE-activation fee. 40 f*cking dollars to flip the switch the other way. Apparently $10 more labor is required to type "off" than "on".
Plus while I'm trying to break it off with Vonage, Kamal is politely and robotically going through his 4-inch 3-ring binder executing all stages of his customer service training attempting to retain my business; which is pissing me off even more. The real kicker came when I finally convinced Kamal that I wanted nothing more to do with him or his American corporate overlords. Within 10 seconds my email pinged with a deactivation notice from Vonage. I laughed and commended him on such speed in saying goodbye. Apparently $40 buys you that kind of efficiency.
(Vonage side note: doing a search on Google for the phrase "Vonage Sucks" gets you about 15,400 returns - I kid you not)
Monday, September 03, 2007
We got a day off and we intend to juice it to the fullest. Especially now that we have our swanky pillow wigs. See you tomorrow.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Because we care here at Cerebral Itch, we have discounted the price on both the HOMO and FRAUD intervention cards in honor of today's announcement that the senior Republican senator from Idaho, Larry Craig will be retiring. We can only assume that this is a tough time for Senator Craig and he needs all of our support in helping him recognize what he'll be remembered for in the anals, I mean annals of history. So for only $1.00 each you can reach out, under or around and send Senator Craig the very best.
(Former) US Senator Larry Craig
225 North 9th Street, Suite 530
Boise, Idaho 83702