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Tips on Stopping an Out of Control Car [Feb. 4th, 2010|01:57 pm]
gigant0r
In the wake of Toyota’s announcement that it is recalling many of its most popular models, here are some safety tips on how to respond if your accelerator pedal becomes stuck. 
 
Close your eyes, spin your steering wheel from side to side, pledge your undying soul to Satan if he’ll stop your car.
Find an unfinished freeway onramp, jump off of it, dive out of the car, try to hit the ground while everything is still going in slo-mo.
Call your wife/mother/children, sarcastically thank them for convincing you that the Toyota was the responsible choice.
Find another car speeding out of control going in the opposite direction, crash into it head-on.  (Find other out-of-control cars easier with the new iStop app, available in the iTunes app store)
Steer yourself to an illegal street race, win it, convince yourself you’ve left that life behind only for it to catch up to you, race again, lose but learn that the most important thing is friendship and not going to jail, crash and die so your memory can inspire others.
Marvel at how long you are able to careen out of control thanks to Toyota’s industry-leading gas mileage.
Aim your car at a Toyota dealership, they have a special area designed to stop out-of-control cars, it’s the part of the lot full of Priuses. 
If it turns out the Priuses won’t stop you, try aiming at a mattress store or strip club instead.
Think about how you should’ve bought something safer, like a motorcycle, or less lame, like a unicycle.
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Recent Stuff for Heavy [Feb. 4th, 2010|11:20 am]
gigant0r
 I haven't been posting these here because it makes me feel like a worthless self-promoting piece of shit, but I think today is the day where I start turning things around and thinking about the future.  So: here are some things I wrote for thor who probably has a lj username but i can't remember it right now and heavy.com (thanks for paying me, thor)

www.heavy.com/post/trains-and-stains-understanding-public-transportation-3039

www.heavy.com/post/corporations-and-elections-the-funky-future-3165
www.heavy.com/post/workout-report-card-1228

www.heavy.com/post/how-microsoft-screwed-up-your-sidekick-948/

I know that last one is old but it turned about to be alarmingly prescient and apparently i'm some kind of future-predicting genius, so listen to what i have to say i have valuable insights
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Conde Nast Closings [Oct. 20th, 2009|02:54 pm]
gigant0r

The publishing world is still reeling from the news that, due to declining ad revenues, Condé Nast, esteemed publisher of Wired, The New Yorker, and Vogue, will be shuttering several of its flagship magazines including Gourmet and Modern Bride.  Here are several other Condé Nast titles getting the axe:

·      Female Genital Mutilation Weekly

·      Elegant Molester

·      X-Box Bong and Futon Insider

·      Hetero Vogue

·      Annie Liebovitz's Foreclosure Auction Catalog - Dildos & Flatware

·      Pre-Adolescent Fancy

·      Teen Architectural Digest

·      Upside Down, the magazine for illiterates trying to hide behind a magazine

·      Anencephalic Quarterly

·      Street Spirit

·      The Pittsburgher

·      Pretty much anything that’s not a pamphlet for Lyndon LaRouche

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Ways That Wishing For A Giant Penis From A Genie Might Backfire [Oct. 13th, 2009|01:17 pm]
gigant0r
  • It could get caught in something, like a paper shredder, or a printing press, or a bike chain.
  • Could be a little too showy, not enough growy.
  • Might be too big for sex with anyone but girls who have wished for giant vaginas, or whales.
  • Maybe he just makes it “white guy” giant.
  • Could interfere with competitive hula-hooping dreams.
  • The genie could be gay for your new magic dick.
  • Will be way more expensive to get it powerwashed.
  • Might result in chronic lower back pain, herniated discs, spider veins.
  • Children may want to rub it for luck.
  • Balls could look ridiculously tiny in comparison.
  • Or maybe he’d just make your balls really tiny, so that the penis looked giant in comparison.
  • Could be long and skinny, like a tapeworm.
  • Might only be giant when no one is looking at it.
  • Could end up shaped like one of those dragon dick dildos.
  • Maybe no one will even notice.
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A Daily Log of Concerns By A Member Of The Union of Concerned Scientists [Oct. 6th, 2009|03:36 pm]
gigant0r

Why does my hair keep falling out?  Why would it skip going gray and go straight to falling out? 

What if my lab coat has a stain on it and I just can’t see it? Will people be able to tell this is the same lab coat I wore yesterday?

Is it going to rain?  What if it rains?  Do I have an umbrella in the car?

If I leave too late, am I gonna get caught in traffic and be late to work?  If I leave too early, am I going to get to the lab and no one will be there and I’ll feel weird and alone for a half hour?

I’ve seen like three TV shows in the last year that featured a water heater bursting while the man of the house was away at work.  What if that happens to me?  Do I have things I need that can’t get wet too close to the floor?

Has the large-scale restructuring of university science programs in the past 25 years from a model based on non-proprietary science for the ‘public good’ to the ‘academic capitalism’ model based on the ‘knowledge economy’ led to the failure of the science community to oversee the transition of transgenic crop technology from the research stage to commercialization?

Is Janice cheating on me?  Why would she just call me when I’m at work for no reason?  It’s like she’s trying to keep me from accidentally calling her while she’s up to something.

Does a ham sandwich have too much salt for me?  Could all the sodium be what’s causing my hair to fall out?  Does that even make sense?

Why would she cheat on me?  Is it because of my penis?  Does she find my penis unsatisfactory?  Or am I just a poor love-maker?  Why isn’t there a way to objectively analyze your ability to make love?

Maybe she just feels emotionally abandoned by me.  Maybe she feels like the scope of my professional, scientific concerns leaves little room for worrying about her.

What if someone shoots a space laser that accidentally evaporates the atmosphere?  There should be a quorum.  Someone should make a quorum about that.

What if Chris turns out gay?  Would that be my fault?  I mean, if it’s genetic or it’s taught, he’s my son, it’s my fault either way, right?  Would Janice leave me for that?  I mean, she seems open-minded, but I know she wants grandchildren.  Maybe we should have some more kids, as back-up. 

What kind of person thinks about whether a six-year old is gay or not?  What does that say about me?

Oh shit, traffic’s gonna be fucked going home.

Do I have enough gas stuck in traffic like this?  Does it take more gas to get home at idling speed or at 60 miles per hour?  Aren’t I a scientist?  Shouldn’t I know things like this?  Am I a bad scientist?

What if one day I’m trying to unlock the door and the key breaks in the lock?  What would I do then?

Is Janice being evasive or was she just doing such boring stuff all day that she really thinks I wouldn’t care about it?

Why does Chris keep doing that thing with his pinky every time he grabs his cup?

Without strong action to reduce heat-trapping emissions, could midwestern states face dramatic changes including an increase in the number of extreme heat days, more intense spring rains that delay agricultural planting, and an expansion of crop-damaging pests?

Why won’t my dick stay hard?  Is it because of that ham sandwich I had earlier?  Is that what sodium does?  I should look into that at work tomorrow. 

Assuming there is a tomorrow.

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What a fancy college education buys you [Sep. 8th, 2009|06:54 pm]
gigant0r

I had a job interview on Tuesday.  Well, not a job interview, but more of a pre-interview exam, to make sure I was worth the expense of interviewing.  The position was voice-writer, which is like a closed-captioner, except that instead of typing all of the words you hear on the screen, you speak them into a microphone with clearer enunciation and less ambient noise, so that a computer can decide what’s been said.  It is, for me, an painfully transparent symbol of personal regression.  A year and a half ago I was working as a real captioner, typing what I heard in episodes of TJ Hooker and Everybody Loves Raymond and setting the dialogue boxes to appear at the appropriate frame, and not too quickly, and paring down extraneous words, which is why I can’t do that in my own writing anymore.  That job paid $15 per hour, and required me to do actual typing.  This job would only require me to speak, and would pay $14.40 per hour.  It’s not rock-bottom, but it’s certainly not a step up. 

When I got to the office in downtown Burbank where the captioning place had their office, I saw that there was one-hour parking available for free on the street and pay-parking in a garage next door.  The letter describing the exam had told me to expect that the test would take a full hour, so I decided to park in the garage.  Once I’d pulled in I saw that the fee was $1.20 per 15 minutes and that they didn’t accept credit cards.  I had no cash but someone pulled in behind me immediately, so I just said fuck you at the parking lot attendant’s booth as I drove by it, and continued to cuss like a schizy hobo all the way to the office, except for the elevator trip to the 2nd floor, because I’m not some kind of maniac asshole who talks to himself in the elevator when there are other people in it with me.  I was buzzed in along with another girl who’d been on the same elevator, applying for the same job.   The woman who was to proctor the exam took us to a table in the back of the office, past the movie-posters from the mid to late 90’s, when the office was first occupied I assumed, as I had trouble imagining a person who felt a unique and notable connection to the films Austin Powers, Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, and Woo.  The table was next to a window and around it some of the other aspiring voice-writers were already waiting.  Among the chairs surrounding the table, one stood out; a puffy, leather one, its arms a little too worn but otherwise looking tremendously comfortable.

“Is that chair open?” I asked to the four people already sitting in what appeared to be far less comfortable chairs.  They shook their heads no, passively.

“Well I’m taking it,” I said, feeling gutsy.  No one seemed to care.  I sat and immediately realized I’d made a mistake; everyone else had the option of staring out the window.  The window was directly behind me; I had to stare directly at their sad, miserable faces and they couldn’t help but stare at mine.  There is nothing sadder than a group of people realizing that they’ve come to a point where they have to hope for an opportunity to get a job that pays less than $15 an hour.  This was no dream factory.  No one was standing on the precipice of greatness at that table.  It was sad, depressed people, upset that these other sad, depressed people were now their competition.  No one said anything.  I struggled to look directly behind me to avoid looking at them.

The woman administering the test came back.  “What a quiet bunch,” she said, keenly oblivious of the weight of the silence.  “Why don’t you come on back and we’ll get you started.”

The test, correcting some grammar and spelling mistakes, took me 19 minutes of an allotted 60.  (In case that sounds braggy, I’ll point out that I spelled allotted with 1 L when I wrote it just now.)

On the way out, I asked the receptionist whether they validated parking.

“No,” she said, looking up at me briefly before returning her gaze to her computer.

“Do you uh, happen to know where there’s a Bank of America near here?”

“No I don’t,” she said, curtly.

“Jesus, what a shitty secretary,” I thought. 

I walked down to the car continuing my cuss-rampage from earlier and made sure to flip off the attendant’s booth in the garage while I walked past it.  I walked the 3 blocks to the Burbank Mall, rode the escalators to the food court, withdrew $20 of the money I owe the IRS, and walked back to the car, at an additional expense of $1.20 to myself.  I pulled out of the spot too aggressively, so I had to go forward and back up again to get the car at an angle where it could turn to get to the exit driveway.  I pulled up to the booth and handed the attendant my ticket.

“Let’s see…” he said.  He was an older white guy, and talked sort of slow. “That’s…$4.80.”

I handed him the twenty-dollar bill I’d taken out of the ATM.

“Everybody’s rich in twenties today, but I’m not rich in fives,” he said.  I was deflated.  The entirety of my displeasure at the tiny injustices that conspire to make my life miserable could be represented in that $20 bill I didn’t want, and this guy was giving me lighthearted banter shit about it. 

“Say, aren’t you the one with the car?” he asked me.

“What?” I asked.

“Didn’t you come in earlier, and you had a car…no, I’m sorry, that was someone else.  Never mind, don’t worry about it”

He stooped back over his drawer to count money, taking an exaggeratedly long time, as though I were supposed to use the time to reflect upon how I probably had a five-dollar bill lying around that I just didn’t want him to have.  Instead, I chose to be an ass.

“What are the odds of you getting two guys in here with cars on the same day?”  So smarmy and smug.  And what wit!  I felt vindicated.

“Oh no, this fella came in earlier, and said he’d forgot his card, so I was just gonna let him use the same ticket all day…”

Oh, so he was being nice to some guy, and I misheard the word he said.  Feeling fully emasculated, I accepted the change he offered and drove home.  I hope they don’t call me back, I don’t want to have to deal with the parking shit again just to not get the job.


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The Office Spec Script #2 [Aug. 24th, 2009|02:19 am]
gigant0r
Shit I want to post another The Office script I wrote but I only have it in pdf format because the hard drive with the original on it just died last week. Does anyone know where I can upload a ~1 megabyte pdf file for frizee?? And make it so that everyone can see it and laugh! Laugh the laugh of the innocent!?

EDIT! Google docs can do it, it just took the smallest amount of effort to discover that.
Anyways!
This is the newer script I wrote

I'm working on a third one but it will come out faster if everyone claps their hands like they're kids with the power of hope and I'm Tony Jaa at the end of Ong Bak 2 and you get to choose my own adventure.

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The Office Spec Script #1 [Aug. 24th, 2009|02:12 am]
gigant0r
Behind the cut is a script I wrote and sent to the office of The Office in the hopes that they would hire me onto their dream team of writers but they never got back to me, probably because I sent it to someone who is dead now or simply doesn't give a shit, and definitely not because it sucks and they wanted nothing to do with me.

 
Spec Script for The Office

Only A Schrute Woman Can Bear Schrute ChildrenCollapse )</div></div>
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What a stupid waste of time [Aug. 3rd, 2009|04:22 am]
gigant0r
Your assignment - Write 1500 words on one of the following topics:

•    The pitfalls of American intervention in foreign democracies
•    The difficulties facing the American school system today
•    The advantages and disadvantages of purchasing locally-grown produce
Read more...Collapse )
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Insect facts [Aug. 2nd, 2009|05:30 am]
gigant0r
  • A single anthill can grow to be as large as a Volkswagen filled with ants, if the anthill is built in a Volkswagen.
  • Bees can smell not only fear, but guilt, shame, and disgust.  In early versions of the Fox series “Lie to Me,” Tim Roth’s character was slated to be a giant, talking bee.
  • The Praying Mantis is the only insect that marries.  Female mosquitoes are the only ones that suck blood.  Do you see what I’m getting at here?  I’ve had bad experiences with women.
  • Insects can only live in places disgusting enough to sustain life.
  • “Insects can be very nutritious” is a lie often told to people in developing countries who lack the schooling to know any better.
  • Most insects are protected externally by armor known as an “exo-skeleton” but lack the ability to withstand pointed insults or biting sarcasm, and tend to be overly concerned by gossip.
  • Earwigs are so named due to a comical attempt by a garrulous, infested British man to explain the mass of creatures spilling from the side of his head.
  • Obsessive compulsives and bitchy nerds cannot stand to see a fact about spiders in a list of insect facts.
  • If all of the different kinds of beetles in the world were mashed together into a paste and sculpted into the form of a person, that person would be Michael Bay.
  • The purpose of the light in a firefly’s tail is to attract potential mates, because nothing says “stick your big bug dick right here” like a flashing light on your asshole.
  • Actually, no one knows if bugs even have dicks, or if they do, how big they are.
  • Lice are the only insects that feed exclusively on human blood, but I guess they don’t sell tickets like hunky teenage vampires or my script “Twilice” would have been picked up by now.
  • Batman originally got his name by feeding exclusively on mosquitoes for six months.  He eventually stopped when his girlfriend complained that his jizz tasted like rusty sand.
  • Many diseases are transmittable by insects, but not herpes, so fuck away, cockonauts.
  • Army ants cannot be stopped by anything except a lack of popular domestic support.
  • If you catch a dragonfly and tape a match to its back and light it it looks like a real dragon and will burn your house down.
  • Butterflies are the most popular insect in vibrator design.  The least popular? The pussyroach.
  • Mayflies, which live for only one hour, can still find time to produce thoughtful essays into the myriad ways that they waste their dull, insignificant lives.
  • The name ladybug is actually an ironic one, as they are generally pretty trashy and poorly versed in the rules of etiquette.
  • One pound of shellac requires the equivalent of insect genocide to produce, so get off your high fucking horse, artists who coat their work in shellac.
  • Radiation exposure does not makes bugs giant, but can produce normal, human-sized bugs that just want to live normal lives and not cause any trouble.  Kill them at all costs, they want to take your human job, and seduce your white, virgin daughter.
  • Caterpillars have over 4,000 muscles in their bodies, which explains why they act like such fucking tough guys all the fucking time.
  • There is no reason for insects to be alive, and the first person to discover how to kill them all will become the king of the humans.
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