Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Three's Company

I’ve compiled my list of all things threesomes. Of course you wonder, “How can the Sophist speak about threesomes, when he has never known one? Is he some kind of wizard?”

To this of course I would argue that all knowledge is intrinsically known and I must simply recollect what was already known, bitches.

Besides, it’s like a wise man once told me: “What can I do?”




Every work-a-day-warrior/bar-philosopher knows threesomes are becoming as common as apple pie and bullet scared strippers. I could prove this shift in modern Americana by searching a lot of online articles for magazines like Glamor and Cosmo and other such mind imploding materials with titles like “threesomes are the new black?” and “Should you share your guy?” but that would likely cause me long term damage. Instead I’ll illustrate the point by way of the “Three’s Company Enigma.”

See, when Three's Company first came out, everyone was begging the question, could it be possible that Jack might one day nail both Janet and Chrissy? Saner minds of the time, of course, reminded those fringe-of-society lunatics that Janet and Chrissy were in fact ladies and the chances of such a bumbling and clearly low-income Jack putting the love dart to those two foxes was like asking if reverse electron flow theory will every displace conventional current flow theory. (the answer is "no")

Were John Q. Network to break a show like that today there would be no zaney “what if” appeal, simply because the 18-25 crew would readily assume that the three of them had already tagged up sometime back in college and the issue was all worked out. Of course, Janet’s boyfriend at the time would have been allowed to video tape the whole thing, Chrissy would later turn out to be a full blown lesbian and jack was too high to recall the night’s events. (He passed out 10 minutes in and the ladies, championed by an enthusiastic yet oddly aggressive Chrissy had to continue without him,) But the underlying assumption would be obvious and people would turn off their sets in bitter fury knowing that Chrissy and Janet were WAY too old to make a mistake like that again.

If that’s not proof enough, let it be known that wikipedia features illustrated examples under its “threesome” listing. (think about it)



threesomes: it's science

With that established, eveone wants to know how to make it happen and after living though a lot of these threesome (the cool kind... and the un-cool kind) conversations, this is what I’ve gathered: There’s basically two ways honest guys like ourselves are going to seal the deal with two chicks; Either to find a girlfriend, acquaintance or some other form of “known” female that wants to experiment with you and another lady, or two, pull off the random, one-time, one-night hook up with two stunning (-ish, but we’ll get to that in a moment) ladies who know they’ll never have to listen to our theories on things like sci-fi, cars or electron theory the next morning and yet for some reason STILL feel a burning need to put our 21st digit between them. This of course assumes the people I associate with aren’t millionaires, willing to pay for two hookers or want to walk into a Detroit strip club with a pocket full of powder, the last of which seems to be the most effective way to pull this thing off. Just maybe not the easiest. (You’re not afraid of Cadillac-driving pimps named Elron, right?)

The chance of a random shag with two chicks is akin to a low probability analogy that I’m too tired to write (though history and drunken life-stories seem to prove it does happen). For that reason, most ambitious fellows gear their game around the “convince my current female of interest that we should share the beauty of our dirty mattress-dance.” The fact that i think most people forget are the concessions one will make when it comes to finding that lucky third contestant. For reasons which will remain unanswered, i will call this the "Greece-Syndrome," which can be a deadly, dangerous road when you're already dealing with numbers on the un-happy side of the 1 to 10 scale. But you can leave that part out when retelling the story at the bar.

So how come we’re not all elbows deep in flesh and holes? Could be Midwest states aren’t as hip as the coasts? Or is it because of the terrible and seemingly insurmountable threesome paradox that everyone (important (as in, ‘female’)) wants to be the mysterious and unknown third person. This is evident by the fact that everyone seems to know a person or two that actually “went through with” or “scammed” a threesome (whether one “goes through with” or happens to “scam” the threesome depends naturally on whether or not your underwear has a fly in the front). These tainted and adventurous sages always seem to revert to the “I should have gotten two people I didn’t know.” (unless, you know, they're strippers that do it for blow)

I’m not really sure what to add at this point. There’s probably a lot to be said for etiquette, safety and watching your wallet, but if you find yourself dealing with these issues, you have already reached the peak of the mountain and are simply making the climb down. I have decided that is my greatest contribution to the betterment of man and will now deal with the inevitable few who will ask the most obvious of questions. I'll begin:

Some will query “where did you get the free time to become such a masterful logitician?
To which I will answer “the bar (with your mom)”

And some will stand up and proclaim “shouldn’t two naïve and well-to-look-at lasses please assemble on the Sophist’s residence so this body of knowledge can be completed?” You enthusiastic few would be right.

Finally, some will ask, “but doesn’t H read this blog and will she not punch you in the eye with great fury?” You my fellows would be most right of all.

(all euphemisms provided by these people)

eidt: I forgot to mention the "Seduce two India-Exchange grad students who are cousins" to my list of ways these things go down. It's proven effective, but only if you're prepared to find yourself on the unfriendly side of an Indian Hit-squad. A lot was learned that summer. Maybe a little... Too much.


game face

I'm back bitches

After a cold and icy move-in, followed by a brief stint of flu-like symptoms, my possessions are nar'y out of the box. Regardless, I've got the wireless cancer waves of the internet pulsing through my apartment and I've had a lot of time to create. Stay tuned for my analysis of threesomes. In the mean time, enjoy this:

this article, though painful and obvious... still somehow seems worth it.

I've not seen this movie, know nothing about it and can't even comprehend what it could be about. But kind of want to see it now. And yet don't. (not the bees!)

Lastly, this product advertised in this seemingly lesbian Erotic film is quite ninja in nature... yet still so very disturbing.

Friday, February 23, 2007

before they could kill him they had to create him

The big move north is upon me. It could be a while before i can get back to my regular schedule of spotty and half-hearted content. These decently narrated pictures should hold over all of you.

(note: all cell phone pics. wee technology)


a while back i went to a DJ battle in a dark, DARK underground basement club in the D where an acquaintance did battle with another Detroit DJ. Each man brought $500 and a crate of records. Roommate and I were told to be there "in case the guy didn't pay" (here's another quote: "if something happens, don't cut the guy- just rough him up") Considering this was smack in the middle of the strangest weekend of my life, i was pretty un-phased by this request. Even though i reckon myself a lover more than fighter there was no way i was going to miss seeing the outcome. (Acquaintance won, all debts were paid... i guess. I was pretty drunk by then and had spent some time in a goth bar in between... Who was that guy?)



When the car was dead I got an 07 charger w/1500 miles as a rental. It had the small engine but looked sharp.



I am SO ready for Fiat driving season.

not an addict

been reading this HILARIOUS list.

Dick sharpener, Framazama, Finger warmer,Hairy Checkbook, Wizard's Sleeve, Panty Hamster, and Mrs. Sphincter's Next Door Neighbor all featured.

A
Abyss, The
Afro clam
Almeja
Axe wound

B
Bacon strip
Badly wrapped kebab
Bajingo
Bald man in a boat
BAP (Bad Ass Pussy)
Bologna curtains
Baloney sandwich
Bearded clam
Bearded taco
Beaver
Beaver Cleaver
Beefgina
Beef curtain
Beef garage
Beef jacket
Bermuda triangle
Biff
Biffen
Birdy
Birth cannon
Bitchcake
Bizzle
Black cat with its throat cut
Black hole Of Calcunta
Blood tap
Blurt
Bone hone
Bone yard
Boogina
Bottomless pit
Box
Box lunch at the Y
Boy in the boat
Breakfast
Breakfast of champions
Buhgina
Bulldog's lip
Bunny
Bush

C
Cake
Camel hoof
Camel toe
Camp coochie
Catcher's mitt
Catfish
Cathedral
Cathouse
Cauliflower
Cave
Cha-cha
Chia pet
Chocha
Choochi snorcher
Chopped ham
Chuff
Chumino
Clam
Clamato fountain
Clamburger
Clodge
Clown's pocket
Cock cave
Cock cozy
Cock garage
Cock holster
Cock milk
Cock pit
Cock pocket
Cock sheath
Cock socket
Cock tub
Cockwash
Cod canal
Concha
Conill
Cooch
Coochie
Cookie
Coon
Coonie
Coont
Cootch
Cooter
Cooz(e)
Cradle of filth
Creamery, The
Crotch cobbler
Crotch mackerel
Crotch taco
Cum bucket
Cum canal
Cum catcher
Cum dumpster
Cum target
Cunny
Cunt
Cunti

D
Dank diner
Delta of Venus
Dent
Dick dent
Dick depot
Dick dock
Dick drive
Dick holster
Dick sharpener
Dick shed
Dick's crib
Dicky Dino
Dirty cumpie
Ditch
Divit
DNA dumpster
DNA slurpee machine
Dripping slit
Droog
Dyke snack

E
Easy bake oven
Everlasting Gobstuffer

F
Fadge
Fandango
Fertile delta, The
Festering wound
Filthy hatchet wound
Finger warmer
Fish factory
Fish fanny
Fish hole
Fish pie
Fish taco
Flaming lips
Flange
Flesh curtains
Flesh flute case
Flesh tuxedo
Flesh wallet
Flesh wound
Flounder, The
Flower
Fluff
Fluffy sausage wallet
Fluttering love wallet
Foo foo
Foof
Foofy bird
Fortune nookie
Foster home of Peter the Orphan
Foufoune
Four-lipped man eater
Framazama
French poodle
Front-butt
Frothing gash
Fuck hole
Fuffle
Fun bun
Fun tunnel
Fur pie
Furback turtle
Furburger
Furby
Furry horse collar
Furry front bottom
Fuzz box
Fuzzy cup
Fuzzy lap flounder
Fuzzy puddle
Fuzzy taco

G
Gange
Gap
Gaper
Gaping hole
Garage of love
Gash
Gator grip
Gina
Ginch
Giner
Giney
Gingerbread
Gleaming mound of Venus
Glory hole
Glory road
Gnash
God's master plan
Golden gully
Goldmine
Goo pot
Gooey man trap
Gouge
Grand Canyon
Gravy boat
Grilled cheese
Growler
Gutted hampster
Gutted rabbit
Gynie

H
Haddock pasty
Hair pie
Hairy beaver
Hairy bike rack
Hairy checkbook
Hairy cherry
Hairy clam
Hairy cream pie
Hairy harmonica
Hairy hatchet wound
Hairy headache
Hairy Manilow
Hairy Mary
Hairy scar
Hairy taco
Hamburger
Ham sandwich
Hatchet wound
Heart-shaped box
Her
Hey nonny nonny
Hidey hole
Hina
Hinge
Hole
Home plate
Honeyhole
Honeypot
Hoo-ha
Hoo-hoo
Hooch
Hoon
Hootch
Hootchie
Hootchie pop
Horizontal fishcake
Hot Box
Hot pocket
Hot quivering love-purse
Hotdog bun
Hummer hole

I
Illnana
In hole, The

J
Jack in the box
Jack Nastyface
Jellyroll
Jizz receptacle
Juice box

K
Kini
Kit-Kat
Kitty
Knob gobbler
Knots landing
Koo koo
Kookooyumyumpoon
Kooter
Kunt

L
Labbe
Landing strip
Lap flounder
Lips that never speak
Lobster claw
Lotus flower
Love muscle
Love muffin
Love pudding
Love tunnel
Lower lips

M
Man's ruin
Map of Tasmania (Tasi)
Meal ticket
Meat curtains
Meat grinder
Meat muffin
Meat napkin
Meat slipper
Meat wallet
Meatloaf
Mejillon
Miffy
Minge
Minnie's pearl
Miss Pussy
Missile silo
Moan pie
Momma's silk purse
Mommy button
Money box
Money maker
Monkey
Mooch
Moose knuckle, The
Moose's lip
Mother Theresa
Motherload
Mound
Mrs. Sphincter's next door neighbor
Mucker
Muckhole
Mud flaps
Muff
Muff monster
Muffhole
Muffin
Muffler
Muffy
Munch box
Mushy mushy
Mutton chops
Mutton flaps

N
Na-na
Na-ner na-ner pudding
Nappy canoe
Nappy dugout
Nethermeats
Ninja slipper
Nipper
Nookie
Nooner

O
Oak tree planter
Old bacon strip
Old Mother Hubbard
Old toothless
Oonie
Orchid boat
Organ grinder
Otter's pocket
Oval office
Oyster taco

P
Panocha
Panty hamster
Passion flower
Patona
Peach
Peach fish
Pearl pit
Pecan Pattie
Pecker-snot repository
Pee bug
Peeper
Pelt
Penis holster
Penis penitentiary
Penis piranha
Penis pocket
PenisStation, The
Peter pleaser
Peter's punching bag
Phat rabbit
Pink brownie cake
Pink canoe
Pink lipped custard sucker
Pink lips
Pink palace
Pink panda
Pink petaled posie
Pink pie
Pink pit of pleasure
Pink stink
Pink taco
Pinkly stinkly
Pish
Piss curtains
Piss flaps
Plewie
Po-po
Pocketbook
Poke hole
Pookie
Poon
Poonani
Poontang
Poontang pie
Pootnanny
Pork danglies
Poosazi
Pooter
Pootie poo
Pootietang
Pooty poo
Postage stamp (you lick it, you stick it, you send it on its way)
Pot holder
Prayer muffin
Prick pit
Promised Land, The
Pu-jar
Puddin pie
Pudi
Pumpkin blossom
Puna
Punani
Puni
Pushin' cushion
Pussy
Putang
Puter
Puty pu

Q
Quiff
Quim
Quinnie
Quivering mound of love pudding

R
Raw oyster
Receptacle, The
Red haired lass
Red snapper
Roast beef curtain
Roast beef pita
Rocket pocket
Rod roaster
Rooster fish
Rosebud
Round mound of repound
Rug
Rusty axe wound

S
Sacapuntas
Sagging bacon cones
Salami sandwich
Salmon scented semen sucker
Sausage wallet
Scrunt
Seafood taco
Sex hole
Shnush
Shooting range
Shrimp boat
Shrimp pie
Shutters of love
Silk igloo, The
Slice
Skunk guts
Slickety squid
Slime slit
Slimey slot
Slippery sheath
Slit
Slobbering bulldog
Sloppy joe
Sloppy oyster
Slot A
Slug's belly
Smackey
Smelly jelly hole
Smoo
Snack box
Snack pack
Snake charmer
Snapper
Snatch
Snizzle
Snotty lips
Snutch
Soft taco
South mouth
Southern smile, The
Spam castanet
Sperm bank
Sperm belcher
Sperm harbor
Split-faced hair shark
Split knish
Splittail
Spock-socket
Spunk locker
Spunk pit
Squashed hedgehog
Squirt bucket
Squishy
Stanky
Stench trench
Sticky bun
Stink hole
Stinkinoonie
Stinky krinky
Stinky pink
Stuffed stocking
Sugar walls
Sweaty burrito
Sweet spot
Sword swallower

T
Taffy puller
Tang
Tasty little morsel
Tinkleflower
Treasure chest
Tri-fold floppy
Trout basket
Tulip
Tuna melt
Tuna taco
Tuna town
Tuna tunnel
Tuna 'n' whiskers
Tunnel
Tunnel of love
Turkey beard
Turkey curtains
Tutu
Twat
Twat waffle
Twisted taco
Two fingered fish mitten
Two-lips

U
Underwear oyster
Upside down taco

V
V
Vadge
Vagittyfidgit
Vagooter
Vaheena
Veeg
Vertical bacon slice
Vertical grimace
Vertical smile
Vertical taco
Velvet box
Velvet glove
Venus fly trap
Venus jive trap
Vice of love, The

W
Warm slurpee
Wazza
Welly-boot top
Welly-top
Weenie wringer
Wet wrinkle
Whisker biscuit
Whooha
Wide open spaces
Wide papaya smile
Willy washer
Winkin' pink brownie cake
Wizard's sleeve
Wookie
Wookie hole
Woolen bivalve
Worm hole
Wound that never heals, The
Wrinkle
Wuzza

X
X-Box

Y
Ya-ya
Yeast cake
Yo-yo smuggler
Yoni
Yum yum

Z
Zone, The

(stolen directly from here. I'll be honest- I didn't have the staying power to read the whole list)

Saturday, February 17, 2007

"Do you even have a job anymore?"

I think it is time to reveal to the world the truth about my work. The local news (local news, remember, is like the dumb kid at the slow school) recently did a piece on the company i work for, something to the effect of high tech, alternative-energy companies in Michigan, a popular theme here because of dire efforts to replace lost automotive jobs of recent.

Anyway, I never did see what was broadcast, but friends and family say i was quite stunning in my safety glasses and operating that large and pricey piece of nondescript equipment. Funny thing is, when the CEO says "hey, we need some footage- do something that looks like science..." you do it.



-this is so close to the truth it's creepy-


A typical day at work is split between the shop floor, a meeting room and my desk; let's say 40%, 40% and 20%, respectively. The shop floor would include the test area, featuring large, nondescript high-power boxes powered by a litany of computers, as well as thermal chambers that are basically car-seized boxes that operate as an oven and freezer, depending on whether you want to cook or freeze your battery sample. And by sample, of course, i mean people. (you gotta tell 'em! It's people...) Also on the shop floor is the proto-type build area where i've been known to wield an assortment of tools typical engineers have only seen on television shows hosted by men with beards and new england accents. Finally, this would include the place where I would conduct various a-typical attempts to collect data on matters such as pack noise, thermal management system flow rates or maybe power losses across high voltage connections. In conclusion, this is where the science (magic) happens.





Spending time in the meetings rooms, like dealing with a stripper's bad breath, is just part of everyday life. Most of these meetings are held because a) management wants to discuss something or b) the customer is mad about something. I should point out here that moral at this company is higher than I've ever experienced before, both personally and throughout the whole company. Of the few dozen people i work with directly in a typical day, there's only two that people seem to dislike. One is Danger Steve and the other is Dr. Lunch and Dr. Lunch isn't really a bad guy- just kind of annoying, and every since Danger Steve (who started the same day I did) came around, no one seems to talk about Dr. Lunch as much.

Finally, there's my desk/cubical. It's larger- half the size of my bedroom, but located RIGHT by the main door, so there's a cold draft and everyone who walks in can see what I'm doing or not doing. I typically work about 50 hours a week and at least one day is normally an 11 or 12 hour stint, but i don't mind because i enjoy the work. When i do have down time, I venture to the desks of some of the people who have been there from the beginning. My company was founded just a few years ago with about 10 people from an R&D firm. The first few years were mostly proof of concept work and one-off design. My mentor-guy was one of THE guys working on the GM EV-1 back in the day and everyone who's been there for a couple years has a picture of them self standing next to some variety of electric car, bus or other. (The scary part is i recognize most of those vehicles.) I will now reveal the full extent of my geekness by divulging the true giddiness i feel when hearing about developing the EV-1 and whatnot. Man that was a sweet ride. No i never saw the movie. No i don't watch The Office.

it all makes so much sense now

"just because it's the easy way, doesn't mean it's the cowboy way"

from indexed - this site is quite fun for the quantitative-minded

Friday, February 09, 2007

meant to put this up last time:

Thursday, February 08, 2007

muay thai



Tuesday, February 06, 2007

I am the car slayer

This has been a crazy week- Starting with last weekend, full details of which aren't even worth getting into, since I can fill a few pages just retelling my car mis-adventures. (At least part of that craziness involved a Detroit Goth Club that made Marylin Manson videos look like "Fluffy McSoftyness' Sunshine Hay Ride Through Smiley-way.")

This story begins Saturday while driving down a side street, on my way to the coffee shop (my most benign destination of the weekend), when some yahoo backed hap-haphazardly out of his parking spot and quite skillfully into my front fender. (see below)

His shitty Ford Torus was, of course, undamaged. "I can't believe how bad that sounded" are not the words to introduce yourself when I'm trying to force my door open, extraditing myself from a mangled car. Lesson of the night: Allen Park cops are still Dicks.

This event set in motion an avalanche of logistical nightmares including phone calls, high dollar amount checks and a HUGE assortment of "can i get a ride?" to and from various places to opick up or drop off extra vehicles. It started with my parent's cherry red Plymouth Sundance, which was to be my mode of transportation for the interim. Car number 2 made it to and from work once, when attempting to start it, a huge cloud of white, sweet smelling smoke poured from the back end... mmmm... smells like head gasket. I pushed my luck, driving it to the first appointment of the day, but decided to cut home early based on the amount of antifreeze that was disappearing into the atmosphere. Lesson learned: a blown head gasket is mostly drivable, assuming you can start it with all that fluid in the cylinder... just don't turn it off.

This afternoon i used a 1/2 personal day trying to track down a rental car for the rest of the week- who knew that unreserved rentals are so damn hard to come by? I'm talking a dozen places called, at least, with no luck. I finally tracked down a bright blue dodge charger with a tiny engine and styling that make me feel like a pimp.

In the mean time, through another crazy, hard to explain round of randomness, i found a guy who lives just down the road from me who can weld up my Fiat intake manifold, eliminating the exhaust crossover and coolant paths. (We'll call the dead Fiat car number 3) Lesson learned: Talk to the old guys, they know a guy.

So here's to car number 4: Lucky blue charger.

In unrelated news, this guy is creepy. Not sos much because he poses as a 12 yr old kid and hangs out at skate parks (he could have seen that on a movie) but more because he lives in a trailer with 3 old men/convicted pedophiles and has sex with them while scheming ways to dupe kids into doing the same.

Also, this is what i think of the super bowl. (thanks Skelert)

Sunday, February 04, 2007

rubbin's racin'



Harry Hogge: Cole, you're wandering all over the track!
Cole Trickle: Yeah, well this son of a bitch just slammed into me.
Harry Hogge: No, no, he didn't slam you, he didn't bump you, he didn't nudge you... he *rubbed* you. And rubbin, son, is racin'.