NKOTB

No hell no, it's not Danny, Donny, Jingle, Thuggy and Bingochip, it's way better and important -- it's New Kids On The Blog (pronounced "blerg").

Please welcome:

cmedesign

johnathanobsolete

extemporaneous1

Visit them often and prod them like cattle with comments so they'll Keep On Blergin'!




Have I mentioned that I am eaten alive with Elbow? Yeah. I accidentally found them on fudgeit.org (hi, Bushra!) as Independent Kitten, and I'll be damned if I'm not having an excessive Elbowfest ever since.

Who am I kidding, I'll be damned in every situation, regardless, I'm sure. Bring it on, universe!

But the first album I got was Cast of Thousands. Tis good. The second was Asleep in the Back. Tis growing on me. To describe them, I'd say that Peter Gabriel and Radiohead had a big two-pack-a-day smoking baby that's almost 38 years old. But this baby is not in a constant bleak mood like Radiohead. Although, yes of course, I will always love Radiohead (snifflesniffle) even though they never write or call anymore ever never ever ever. Too good for me these days, huh? Well. Pablo this, honey.

Man. I'm so facking boring today. Sorry you have to read this.

Anyway, if you are looking for some good music, get some Elbow.

What's my point? I'm not sure I have one. I just wanted to say hey.

And it's Friday, and I'm tired but happy. "Hope yer happy tooo-ooo-oo." -- David Bowie

Also, I'm looking through all the lonely little links I've saved as unrealized, un-gestated Drafts (gross), and they look so sad that I think I'll just throw a couple out here indiscriminately and without much fancies...




If you want a freaky good movie starring Oingo Boingo's Danny Elfman plus a few other half-naked Oingo Boinger's, then rent "Forbidden Zone." In seven words: boobies and big silky Bettie Page panties. And as Ron says: If it wasn't for rock music, some guys like Danny Elfman and (poor dead) Joey Ramone "would never get no play with the ladies". (Hey, he said it, Danny, not me. xox) Make sure you watch the DVD extras to see the interviews. Those people are good-crazy -- dear God, I wish I could've been in Oingo Boingo.


Good Bye, Lenin! -- good movie about the fall of the Berlin Wall in1989 but, see, the guy's mom who's really old school East German, she falls into a coma right before this happens and when she wakes up, the doctor says her heart is too weak to withstand the shock. I suck at explaining this, so just rent it, you'll like it.

If you don't have Netflix, getttt iiiittttt. I never watched movies much, but you'd be surprised at how you'll watch 'em once they are delivered to your house only to lie around and look pathetic until you watch them and you realize you have spent money for these things and they are turning into more expensive drink coasters by the day.

Ok, do you smell burning wires? It's me, I'm totally burned out for the day. So thanks for reading my babbling smack and I'll be back with something interesting soon I promise.

ps: if you made it through this post without falling asleep, then congratulations! You just won the Monkey Riding a Dog prize. Make sure you click Video. Enjoy!

Life is good. Good good good.


"JAY LENO EXITING TONIGHT SHOW IN 2009"

"Jay Leno will step down as host of The Tonight Show in 2009 and turn over the reigns to Conan O'Brien, whose Late Night with Conan O'Brien leads out of The Tonight Show, reports Mediaweek’s John Consoli."



They taste worse than they smell, but my hair is luxurious!

It's taken me way too long to state the obvious, and I do apologize. But for the record and for those keeping score, yes: Muncheros or Salted Prunes with Chili are truly one of God's most incredibly horrible and useless food items I've ever encountered this side of raw sea urchin. That may be an unfair statement to anyone planning on being stranded without hope in the desert. Bring these treats along to suck on, prolonging your life just long enough for you to realize that you have no hope left as you hallucinate your way into a kinder, gentler dimension.

Maybe I don't know what I'm doing with these things. Maybe I was supposed to boil and rehydrate them. Let me describe them to you.

Upon opening the bag, I was instantly teleported back to a humid, barefooted childhood summer. Running carefree through our backyard past the plum tree, its branches hanging low with ripened fruit, I learned the value of footwear. Stepping on a rotting plum was one thing; the pointy pit inside was another. Collapsing to the ground at breakneck speed and skidding through numerous other rotting plums tends to leave a mark, I'd have to say. Another not e of interest: After a surprise crash-and-burn like that, your sense of smell is heightened by the adrenaline rush. It was at that point I collected my thoughts, assessed the damage, and realized that I smelled of burning grass stains and hot sticky tobacco chaw.

Again, I'm from the South. Sadly, I know what a "chaw" smells like. If you don't, simply buy a bag of Salted Prunes with Chili and experience the smell of an actual dried chaw.

Objectively speaking, the most pleasing part of the Salted Prunes (besides the potential of them actually being a newfound taste treat) was their appearance. They looked like soft little chunks of something rolled in cocoa powder. Aside from the smell, how bad could these be? So I tossed one in and bit down. Basically, the only way to describe them are dried-up mold-covered rocks rolled in dehydrated worm dirt (for anyone not from the South, that would be dirt you'd find in a container of fishing worms). Complete with a sharp pit in the center! And basically, the salt was so intense that it just cauterized many a tastebud's sad attempt.

They were so gross, I had to try another one.

Oh, come on, you know how it is. Disbelief: It's the only reason why some guys I've known ever got second dates with the same woman. Disbelief can drive you to do the most illogical things. I have the physical scars to prove it.

But hey, I knew they'd be gross. Luckily, foresight ordered some Japanese Peanuts with Chili to chase the horrific taste out of my mouth. Now let me just say that those little bastards are GOOD.

And because I was running low anyway, I bought a new shampoo by Freida -- Brilliant Brunette Shine Release Shampoo for Darker Shades of Brown Hair Chestnut to Espresso. No pun intended, but it completely rocks. I'm not sure about the shine factor, but the smell is over-powering in a really good way, and the moisturizing formula really does rehydrate a ragged end. It's like the exact opposite of a Salted Prune with Chili. See? Life is good like that.

So kids, let that be a lesson to you: You can't know what's truly good until you experience what's truly bad. And if you plan on going hiking through Death Valley, remember to bring your Salted Prunes -- with or without chili -- live dangerously! But please, children, please wear shoes.



(Thanks to Chip for the enlightening "Product Review, Product Review!" challenge. My hair thanks you! Next product review: Rock Star Energy Drink!)

A friendly reminder:

Logo comps are due Monday. And the client hateyhatehates crowns, so do not include them.

Also, soon to come:

The breathlessly awaited "Product Review, Product Review!" of my super-special WalGreens shipment suggested by Chip.

The suspense has already weakened three innocent onlookers and nearly killed an old lady in Pittsburg, so I apologize for any fatal delay. Mooo ha haaa.

What I've Learned Working in Advertising All These Years.


For example, I imagine the situation went down like this:



Designer to Project Manager: "He WHAT?!"

PM: "I know, I know..."

Designer: "He thinks it'd look better with the kid's FRONT TEETH photoshopped out?? What the @#$%? That will look forced and ridiculous!! Don't the pigtails just scream @#$%ING PRECIOUS...?!"

PM: "I know, I know..."

Designer: "Why in the hell does EVERYONE around here have to put their @#$damn @#$her-@#$%in' dick-print on EVERYTHING I do around here?? God! These people are RUINING MY LIFE!"

PM: "I know, I know, I hear ya, what a jerk, huh...(glancing at clock on wall in distance) *sigh*...look, let's wrap this thing up so we can get outta here. I have to pick up my kids from soccer practice."

Designer: "Why does MONSTER.COM have to be such a @#$damn @#$her-@#$%in' BLACK-HOLE WASTE of TIME??...'tweak it a bit by photoshopping some missing teeth'...WHAT THE -- @#$damn @#$her-@#$%!!!"

Well. I imagine that's how it could've gone down. Past experiences, of course. Ahem.

Today is National Cupcake Day!

Not really. It should be though.

I just wanted to show you these magnificent creatures at sibbyscupcakery gently lifted from notmartha.com. And also, I just like the word "cupcake." You can't hardly think about it or say it out loud without smiling. Cupcake. See? I'm a tired withered crabtree somedays but I just grinned. It's a happyfun word. Much like clobberhead.

yers truly -- Cupcake Clobberhead.

So I'm ready for my "Product Review, Product Review!" challenge item suggested by Chip. I'm just waiting for the Salted Prunes with Chili to arrive from walgreens.com.* Mmm. How appetizing they sound already, huh? I know none of you can sleep now in anticipation of their arrival. Which according to UPS should've been yesterday. They'd better step on it. I also ordered some highlighting shampoo.

But in the meantime, I can recommend a stupifyingly-simple and good flatbread for you to try. Straight from the countryside of Vermont (the one and only motherland of Ben & Jerry's, no less) to a local Wild Oats freezer near you hopefully, it's American Flatbread.

The only kind they had was the Cheese and Herb flatbread which sounded so innocent and plain to me. I scoffed. But hey, me likie some bread and cheese always.

But honestly, if anyone ever teases you for splurging an extra dollar or two on handmade, organic food when you can, then kindly point them toward a handmade flatbread like this. This flatbread-turned-pizza has the innate ability to shut a doubting piehole** for real. I'm serious, it is so incredibly good. It's simple -- it's just handmade in wood fired ovens with fresh, organic ingredients from Vermont by real people. The end.


*I love my Walgreens, but ppphewdamn, their site is mundo crapwad ugly and clunkfest uggums. My poor walgreens.com needs an "Extreme Website Makeover". I'm sure if Fox network thinks about it hard enough and could make a website bleed and cry on tv, it'll make next fall's tv lineup.


**"Mmmm. Pieholllle."

By the way, this is for you, Chip. Let us light a candle of hope that Ivan didn't totally plow this legendary joint. Pulled from my PDA cardpocket as a reminder of such a sublime time in June, long live our Florabama, as red as it may be. Why not, red is my favorite color anyway:

See the pointer? For those who've just tuned in, that's within the area where hurricane Ivan made its direct hit in Florida.

Scott drew a fat Scout Leader.





I drew a fat 2DO List cat.



Another successful resource meeting is fully realized. Is it Tuesday already?





It's about time for a "Product Review, Product Review!", isn't it? Anyone have any suggestions for a specific product?

I'll wander down to the corner Wal-Greens and see what's new down there besides Nyquil, Dayquil, and Afrin. Yellow fever supposedly killed many Memphians about 100+ years ago. But I'm convinced it was allergies and sinus maladies instead.

Which, by the way, I think I have conquered my addiction to nasal spray for the time being. Don't play with that crack. It's addictive, I'm tellin' ya. Don't underestimate Nyquil either. If you take it for more than about three days in a row, that stuff will turn on you like a junkyard dog. Instead of knocking you out for the night, it'll poke you wide-eyed awake approximately every 17 minutes so you can hear the sound of buzzing somewhere deep within your spinal cord. *

But man, it works when it works. I feel muuuuuch better.

Better living through chemistry.

*It also diminishes your writing skills. I'm totally boring today. This joint needs some candy around here. I'm off to lunch and maybe for some candy.**

** That was a positive thought, but it's too damned muggy out today. Mugfest. But I did get a fortune cookie at lunch, so there is some excitement maybe...

THANK YOU FOR MY SUMO BANK, B!

You are very nice to me! Bhead B went vacationing in Austin, Texas, and brought this fat baby back to me from Toy Joy. I wanna open a store like Toy Joy and sell tasty sodas and candy, too. One day, boy. One day. And thank you for the Otis toy!

Awww. I like it.

It's our new interim website here at work. See if you can find the hidden tagline.

Oh hell yeah, it's Friday. Rejoice.

What a week. So productive. No one choked me to the ground, and I didn't take a pick axe to the fancy color printer that decidely won't print my lavenders.

If anyone needs to know, trading your nasal spray in for Nyquil is like crop-dusting for one single roach. That Nyquil is certainly some powerful medicine. I woke up yesterday and next thing I knew I was at work. How'd that happen. And I was aware of all ten of my toes at once. When's the last time you could feel all of your toes at once, pestering you, one at a time. And then altogether. I guess brain damage is a small price to pay for clear sinus passages and heightened sense of smell. I actually smelled chocolate cake baking through a wall the other day. How bionic.

A sad note: Some terrible ass put a sticky note on my car rhetorically asking me if my grandmother taught me how to park. Don't you just love people like that? My grandma's dead, but really, thank you for reminding me. To me, that sounds like someone who needs to park on the roof and walk some of that agression off and please touch my car again so I can park crooked on her cowardly bones over and over again. It's a her. She wrote like a girl. She'll cry like a girl, too, if I could ever find her. I may just park 6 inches over the line again and bait her. Take a day off from work and hide in my car with a picture of my grandmother. I'll think about it. But until then...

More sketches for you, because unlike piggly note-leavers, you people are the best:






It's a two-legged dog with patches. Awwww...




If he had a job, he'd make lots of hard-earned Doggie Dollars, and he'd spend it on candy.




Someone unwittingly created a new word in the Tuesday meeting. It means "you all are" as in "Y'all're haulin' ass on that project, aintcha*?"

*aintcha = quaintly means "aren't you" in case y'all're needing translation.




I don't know why I spelled "drink" this way. Guess that's the antihistamines talkin.'

Well, maybe I was reminding myself to find some red wine. I'll look for some now.

Still furiously working, trying to break my addiction to nasal spray with doses of Nyquil, but wanted to leave you a picture I drew for you of a concerned jellyfish.