The Randomness Continues

Tuesday, February 24, 2004

Now, I've wasted many an hour watching TV. I've also cured many a night of Insomnia/avoiding contact with the outside world, by watching, essentially, nothing. This nothingness is the number one highest played type of TV show. No, this isn't according to Nielsen ratings, or something stupid like that, this according to the RANDOMETER!

RANDOMETER:

63%: INFORMERCIALS
19%: CRAPPY KIDS SHOWS/REALLITY TV/SOAP OPERAS
8%: NEWS
4%: 2 STAR MOVIES
3%: SPORTS
2%: 3 OR 4 STAR MOVIES (USUALLY OLD JAMES STEWART MOVIES)
1%: TV SHOWS THE WISEGUY LIKES

How did I come to these percentages?? It was so hard, I broke 100% down to seven categories (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME)!!!! The point is, INFOMERCIALS ARE TAKING OVER OUR LIVES. NO, JACK LALANE, I WILL NOT BUY YOUR POWER JUICE! NO CHUCK NORRIS, I WILL NOT BUY WHATEVER LAME EXERCISE MACHINE YOU'RE SLAPPING YOUR NAME ONTO NOW. AND BILLY MAYS... HELL NO. IF YOU KEEP UP THIS DIET OF CHEESBURGERS AND SCREAMING "BUY OXI CLEAN, MY CHILDREN ARE ADDICTED TO COKE AND I AM IN DIRE NEED OF A HEART SURGERY AND LYPOSUCTION!" Please, someone kill him before he explodes or has a heart attack. Remember Old Yeller? Take Billy Mays out back, and shoot him. Then tell Timmy (or whatever the hell the kid's name was) that you'll take him to the pound and buy him another fat man.

(NOTE: BILLY MAYS REALLY, REALLY SCARES ME)

Sunday, February 22, 2004

[CASUAL OBSERVER]: What's that?
[THE WISEGUY]: Only the greatest website EVER!
[CASUAL OBSERVER]: Sweet! Can I see your website now?
[THE WISEGUY]: Sure.
(casual observer reads first line)
[CASUAL OBSERVER]: Why do you hate Ray Liotta?
[THE WISEGUY]: I don't. He hates me.
[CASUAL OBSERVER]: Have you ever met him?
[THE WISEGUY]: Well, no.
[CASUAL OBSERVER]: Then how do you know he hates you?
[THE WISEGUY]: I can just tell. Plus, his movies suck!
[CASUAL OBSERVER]: Have you even seen any of his movies?
[THE WISEGUY]: Yeah! I created a list.
[CASUAL OBSERVER]: Ok, read it to me.
[THE WISEGUY]: Universal Soldier., Timecop, Chairman of the Board--- why are you looking at me like that?
[CASUAL OBSERVER]: Well, those first two were Jean Claude Van Damme movies. And the last one... that was Carrot Top.
[THE WISEGUY]: Oh, well, I have one more...
[CASUAL OBSERVER]: What?
[THE WISEGUY]: ...Universal Soldier: The Return...
(sigh)
[THE WISEGUY]: Oh well, I did see him in Field of Dreams. He played that one baseball player, Shoeless Joe.
[CASUAL OBSERVER]: That was him. I thought he was good.
[THE WISEGUY]: Really? Jeez, I thought he sucks.
[CASUAL OBSERVER]: You need to grow up, Ray Liotta doesn't suck. He's a very talented actor!
[THE WISEGUY]: You're right...
[CASUAL OBSERVER]: I knew you would see it my way.
[THE WISEGUY]: ... he blows!
(sigh)

(NOTE: THAT CONVERSATION, MORE OR LESS, DID HAPPEN. BUT IT WENT MORE LIKE: what's the deal with you and ray liotta? you need a life. now stop telling me to go to your damn website! OH WELL, MY VERSION WAS A LOT BETTER)

Saturday, February 21, 2004

Today I saw a sneak preview of the new movie, Starsky and Hutch. It doesn't come out for another 2 weeks, but they recognized who I was, and let me come. Ok, I'm lying. Anyone could go. But shut up! Everyone needs to (sniff) feel important and appreciated (sniff) sometimes! This movie was one of the funniest movies I've seen in a while. Owen Wilson and Ben Stiller, once again are brilliant together (like in Zoolander. "I'm bullemic." "You can read minds?"). And Will Ferrel makes a cameo too, as a prison inmate who has a "thing" for Dragons... and Hutch. Vince Vaughn was really good as the bad guy. Carmen Electra is still really hot. But you already knew that. (mmmmmm, fake) Now, I liked it without even having seen one episode of Starsky and Hutch. I knew the show though. I knew they were two cops, and they... ok, that's all I knew about it. But I happen to be a big fan of cop movies and shows. Like Miami Vice. Ok, Miami Vice sucks. But Police Academy was good. Ok, Police Academy sucked too. But there was... that one... thing... where... the guy... (trails off) I would definitley say go see this movie, when "normal" people can see it, on March 5th.

(NOTE: I NOW HAVE A "SMIDGEON" OF RESPECT FOR SNOOP DOGG. HE JUST ANNOYS ME THOUGH. I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT THERE ARE SO MANY OTHER PEOPLE I'D RATHER PLAY AS IN A VIDEO GAME (TRUE CRIME: STREETS OF LA), THEN SNOOP DOGG. LIKE, SAY, MY SELF. OR CHEECH MARIN. OR RAY LIOTTA, IF THE GAME WAS CALLED "WHO SUCKS". THEN YOU PLAY AS RAY LIOTTA, AND YOU RUN AROUND ACTING TOUGH, BUT REALLY, YOU'RE JUST ANOTHER GUY. THAT'S RIGHT RAY. WHAT NOW? WHAT NOW? YEAH, I DIDN'T SEE NARC. OR BLOW. BUT I LIKE THE WHOLE 4 LETTER TITLES THING, I HAVE ANOTHER ONE FOR YOU: SUCK, AS IN: GOLLY JEE, RAY LIOTTA SURE DOES SUCK.)

(FURTHER NOTE: STIMPMITS saw it too, same time, same night, different theater)

Tuesday, February 17, 2004

Today I was just thinking, if any celebrity would hate me, who would it be? The obvious answer: Ray Liotta. Look at him. Now look at me.. It just makes sense for us to be mortal enemies. More on this later.

Monday, February 16, 2004

I read an article on Reuters (I know... I was reading something on REUTERS! I was as shocked as you probably are now) the other day that was about Canada condemning a show Conan O'Brien did in Toronto last week. I watched the show, being a huge fan of Conan, and I thought it was great. But, apparently, some guy was offended. He said, "We want to disassociate ourselves from the comments which were broadcast last night because we do not support them in any way." Fantastic! I don't know who you are, but apparently when you say "we", you're not talking about you and your multiple personalities (or saying "yes" in French). You speak for the entire country of Canada? All of the moose too? What about the miles and miles of inhospitable frozen wasteland? Some other guy (she turns out to be a girl, actually) of the left-handed New Democrats, called it "racist filth", "utterly vile" and "vicious hatemongering". Wow! Don't you love her two word vocabulary? She must have been one of those little kids who walked around saying "poopy" when she was four, because that was the worst word she knew. And now she's all the way up to calling people "racist filth"! Please. There was nothing wrong with that show, unless you happen to be: Canadian, female, homesexual, heterosexual, alive, an impressionable teenager with nothing to do and a blog, male, American, or allergic to people with orange hair. And come on, how many of us fit into that category? But really, if we executed every celebrity that did something stupid, Justin Timberlake would have been killed thousands of times. Okay, maybe some people could take offense to some of the things he said, but it's called an "off" button. It's on the remote! If you push, the TV turns off! WOW! Now, nothing against Canada, but we here in the US have something called a "constitution". There very well might be something in there called "freedom of speech". Or maybe I'm mistaken.

So, despite all the things those left-handed people might have said, Conan, feel free to do a week long show at The WiseGuy's house, we won't call you "racist filth". (NOTE: The truth is, if Conan O'Brien did a week long show at The WiseGuy's house, we probably wouldn't be able to talk anymore, considering the biggest celebrity this site has seen is STIMPMITS).

Sunday, February 15, 2004

THE NIGHT BEFORE PRESIDENTS DAY

'Twas the night before Presidents day, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except for a mouse;
Who was busily raiding the cupboard with care,
Not knowing of the mouse trap hiding in there (snap).

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of the EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION danced in their heads;
Alone in my parents basement with our cat,
I Had just turned the TV on to watch some late-night crap.

When suddenly somebody fell through the roof,
I sprang from the sofa during Conan, that goof.
Away to the stairs I flew like a flash,
Making sure I had already hidden my stash (of... carrots).

The moon was out as it should be at night,
Casting a glimmer on things in the night,
When I saw some really akward Shit,
An official looking Limo pulled by 8 former presidents.

With a red neck driver who had brains like mush,
I knew in a moment it must be George W. Bush!
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, JACKSON! now, TRUMAN! now, CARTER and NIXON!
On, COOLIDGE! on FILMORE! on, REAGAN and CLINTON!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away y'all!"

I'm not sure if it was real, my brain's kind of fried,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the presidential limo and Lincoln there too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The boring political arguments of each of those goofs.
A gun in my hand, I was turning around,
Lincoln fell through the roof and landed hard on the ground.

He was dressed in a suit, from his tall hat to black boot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
I cocked my gun as he opened his sack.

His eyes -- they were rather ordinary!
His cheeks were nothing like roses, his nose didn’t look a thing like a cherry!
His stove-pipe hat was high on his head,
I thought he looked pretty good, despite being dead.

The stump of a cigar he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a long face and very toned abs,
This dead man had a friggin six pack!

He hung up the EMANCIPATION PROCLOMATION, he was almost done,
My handed tightended up on the handle of the gun;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon showed me he really was not dead;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then he called me a jerk!,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
Ge gave me the bird, and out the window he rose.

He jumped in the limo, I pulled out a missle,
And ignored Clinton as he complained about stepping on a thistle..
I had really good aim, and he was just in my sight.
I pulled the trigger, and lit up the night.

Then I woke up.... Oh what a night!
This dream I had, it gave me a fright!
I killed 10 former presidents, just in spite!
A twinkle in my eyes, knowing all was well,
And Abraham Lincoln was deep in the pits of....
Oh Well.

The smoking limo was real, outside by my porch,
It landed right on my neighbor's new porche.
Lincoln was standing alone next to the wreck,
He screamed my name with raw hatred and said:
“HAPPY PRESIDENTS DAY TO ALL, I’M GOING TO HAUNT THE SOUTH, BUT WISEGUY, YOU’RE NEXT!”



(NOTE: Yes, I realize I already put that in a post, and I did copy and paste it. But whoop-dee-friggin-doo. It's my site, I'll put the same old crap on again if I want to. The Simpsons does it all the time with clip shows, and that show is still awesome.)

Saturday, February 14, 2004

There are a lot of problems in society. Terrorism. War. Murder. Disease. Prime time television. But now I have come to realize there is one larger, scarier problem that we face each and every time we go to the grocery store: three little words that have been tacked on to food packaging. These three words (technically two words, and a phrase) are: Diet, Extreme (or X-treme, or Ex-stream (not so much the last one)), and Quick and Easy. We'll start with Diet.

(NOTE: I DO REALIZE THAT A REALLY FUNNY GUY WHO HAS A REALLY AWESOME WEBSITE HAD AN ARTICLE ABOUT HOW BAD EXTREME MARKETING SUCKS. I READ IT, AND I'M NOT PLAGIARIZING IT. IT TURNS OUT, I HATED THIS STUFF BEFORE I READ HIS ARTICLE. AND TO PROVE THAT MY RANT, AND HIS ARTICLE, ARE DIFFERENT, HERE IS THE LINK TO HIS ARTICLE SO YOU CAN READ IT, THEN YOU'LL SEE HOW THEY'RE DIFFERENT: HIS IS SO MUCH BETTER.)

Main Entry: [4]diet
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English diete day's journey, day set for a meeting, from Medieval Latin dieta, literally, daily regimen, diet (taken as a derivative of Latin dies day), from Latin diaeta
Date: 1565
1 : a formal deliberative assembly of princes or estates
2 : any of various national or provincial legislatures

Somehow, I think there might be more than one definition of diet in Websters, but that doesn't really matter. The thing is, people are obsessed with diets. It's as if they were dumb, deaf, blind, and mute all of those years when they were eating bacon-wrapped, fudge-stuffed, sugar-frosted, deep-fried, balls of pork fat. But now that it's "cool" to be able to see your toes, they've decided to eat and drink (and sniff, smoke, snort, and all other forms of consumption) only diet, fat-free, sugar-free, low calorie, low carb (low flavor) products. Really. You've become 400 lbs, and now you're deciding to order a Diet Coke with your Triple Cheese Bacon heartclogger (excuse me, hamburger), instead of a lard smoothie. But the problem isn't that you're fat. It's that you're being fooled by diets. Here's a diet for you: stop eating, you blimp! But no! You have to buy only Atkins approved food, or Slimfast. Here's another diet: Stop eating twinkies, you Ho-Ho! If you care so much how you look, get lyposuction! Don't give Dr. Atkins (Whom, by the way, died of a heart disease!) your money! Don't fall into Whoopie Goldberg's mind trap! Don't believe Al Roker! There are three guaranteed ways to lose weight:
-Eat Healthier
-Get lyposuction
-Cut your legs off
Trust me! You may be spending $400 a week to buy crates of a Swedish miracle drink that makes you lose 5 lbs a week, or you can eat a salad every night for dinner. You can starve your self, and become bulemic, or you can jog every day. You can spend thousands of dollars buying The Total Gym, and Jack LaLane's power juicer, or you can join a gym. And just stay far, far away from hypno-weight-therapy.

Extreme sports. The X-games. Extreme Beach Volleyball. X-treme Jello. X-rays. Ok, maybe not X-rays. I don't know what it is about Extreme that requires it to be put on EVERYTHING! I think some marketing executive, sitting in an office building in the 50th story of The Jello company's headquarters, decided that Jello Cups are missing a key demographic: 13-19 year olds who listen to punk music and skateboard. So the obvious answer: just slap X-TREME on it, and poof! Here they come, running into stores, to get new-and-improved X-TREME JELLO CUPS! How awesome! But, in reallity, X-TREME jello cups taste exactly like "normal" Jello cups. (gasp). You mean they don't have anything special in them? No chemical X? No ground up steroids? No drugs of any kind? Not even old copies of Skateboarding magazines???? Wow! So we're being screwed over to believe that X-treme Jello Cups are something special?? Hardcore Jello maybe? Yes. And is it? No. But will that keep them from releasing X-TREME Hummus? No. Extreme Dencher Glue? No. It won't do anything to them, because they don't care. The customer does come first, because the customer has money. But once the customer has pair for it, they don't care more or less what we think! (gasp). So unless I have a Jello Cup that burns my tongue off because it is so extreme, I'm never eating a Jello Cup again.

And finally, Quick and Easy. We no longer have time to actually do anything, because we're so busy getting plastic sugery, and seeing Jennifer Lopez movies, that we no longer have time to actually cook our families a meal. We have 3 minute recipes to create an entire 5 course meal, blended into one handy brownish casseroule made by Kraft, which we will probably burn because Oprah came on early. Please. Soon, we won't eat anymore. We'll set up a way to use the hours we sleep to do everything else we don't want to do: eat, learn, think, listen to people while they talk, do our taxes, read The Randomness Continues, and anything else that just plain sucks! Everything can't just be quick though, it has to be easy. No longer are we smart enough to do anything, we have to be told that everything is easy so we don't get stuck doing something that proves how ignorant we are. "Hi! I'm an idiot who can't cook normal peas, so now I have Quick and Easy peas that are fool-proof!" Congratulations! Baby animals are kicked out into the wild to fend for themselves, at the age of one. You're in your 40s, and you're just learning how to make instant oatmeal. If you were a bear, you would be on some old guy's wall. In 100 years, no one will have time or intelligence to do anything. We will have computers that do everything, from cooking and cleaning, to shaving and feeding us, because we're too busy watching Infomercials and buying things off of the internet. It will be like having a computerized version of your mother. I am so not looking forward to the future.


(NOTE: I hate grocery shopping!)

Thursday, February 12, 2004

Valentines Day. To some, it means another time of the year to spend all or their money on buying their girl friends a $1000 ring, just for her to dump them for the pizza boy. For others, they spend their Valentines Day in a chocolate induced depression, feeling bad for themselves because they are single, ugly, they can't cook Ramen soup, and they haven't bought all of the Star Trek movies on DVD yet. Then, there are people who spend the day drinking beer and watching Kung-Fu movies, only to remember it's Valentines Day at 7:00 at night, while their girl friend is waiting for them at a fancy french restaurant. But for me, I plan to sleep through the entire day. I'm just skipping the entire day. Not because I'm like any of those three kinds of people. But, because I understand how much of a scam this day is. There is no purpose. You shouldn't have to go out of your way to remember to do romantic things just for one day a year. If you truly love them, you should do it every day. But instead, Hallmark bumps up prices for everything that is colored red or pink. So if you're not the 366-day-a-year-romantic, you're going to be shelling out extra for everything because you're a typical loser guy who needs this one day to prove you're not a typical loser guy. But it just shows how much of a loser you are. Here:

100% Loser: On Valentines Day you bought your girlfriend/boyfriend/wife/husband chocolates, a new ring/3 Iron, took them to a fancy restaurant where all the chefs are named Piere, and then rented their favorite movie (Sleepless in Seattle/The Terminator). They invited you back to their place.
80% Loser: You bought her a Vermont Teddy Bear/ him a new putter, and spent the evening at your house listening to Barry White and having a romantic, home-cooked (or better yet, disguise take out as your own) food in a candlelit room. She called you the sweetest thing and made out with you.
60% Loser: You bought her/him a big box of their favorite chocolates, a sweet car, roses, and took them out to see Love Don't Cost A Thing, in hopes that maybe the title will rub off on them. They made out with you, because the movie really sucked and that's the only thing there was to do.
40% Loser: You bought them some chocolates (any kind), a corny card, and some $2 carnations. You had McDonalds and watched an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie.They dumped you.
20% Loser: You showed up, uninvited, to her house with your heavy perfume on, and some chocolates you bought at the dollar store. She called you a fool, slapped you, and slammed the door in your face.
0% Loser: You stayed at home and watched Divorce Court while eating Cheetos.

Now, you may be thinking, "Well golly Jee WiseGuy, the person you labeled as "100% Loser" sounds like the perfect guy, and the person you labeled as "0% Loser" sounds like a dateless wonder! Are you stupid?" No, I'm not stupid. The "100% Loser" is a fake. He's not like that the rest of the year. The rest of the year, he's like the "0% Loser". But on Valentines Day, he cleans his act up to make up for all the crap she's put up with. He's a poser, as bad as Milli Vanilli, and almost as fake as Pamela Anderson. But the "0% Loser" is like that all year round. He's not fake. He's just the kind of guy who would rather spend his money greedily on himself, than waste it to go to an expensive restaurant where you get portions that are too small for my dog. Now really, who is the true loser here? Sure, one of them is lonely, depressed, and will probably hate himself for never trying, and the other is atleast getting lucky once a year, but who is a better person? That's right!

(NOTE: I SWEAR, I'M NOT JEALOUS (bitter grumbling))

Sunday, February 08, 2004

WooHoo! I finally found The Randomness Continues on Google!

Tuesday, February 03, 2004

SIX DEGREES OF GEORGE W. BUSH

George W. Bush is president of the USA, like
John F. Kennedy, who is related to
Maria Shriver, who is married to
Arnold Shwarzenegger, who is governor of
California, where charges were filed against Michael Jackson,
Who is brother of Janet Jackson,
who was a victim of Justin Timberlake,
An incident which Mr. Bush "claims" he missed.

The reason for this? President Bush claimed he "I don't want to admit it, but because this White House starts early, I missed it -- again. Saw the first half, did not see the half time -- I was preparing for the day and fell asleep. But you all can tell me about it." Yeah right Bush. You "went to bed early". I've heard that before. "I swear, I wasn't watching that X-rated movie, I 'went to bed early'!" or "I swear, I wasn't smoking that Marijuana, I 'went to bed early'!" or "I swear, I didn't kill the Governor of Texas, I 'went to bed early'!" Yeah, sure Bush. Or so you tell the public. But really, you watched it live, and you recorded it on your TIVO, right next to your episodes of Queer eye for the Straight Guy, and Will and Grace. I'm onto your tricks, Bush. Nothing is safe from me!

(NOTE: JUSTIN, I DON'T BELIEVE YOUR LIE EITHER. 'i swear, it was a 'wardrobe malfunction'' YOU MORON! IF YOU'RE GOING TO RIP JANET JACKSON'S SHIRT OFF ON LIVE TV AT THE SUPER BOWL, TAKE CREDIT FOR IT! COME ON! OH, IN OTHER NEWS, IT WAS A GOOD GAME. (game?) THE WISEGUY'S PREDICTION WAS WRONG, BUT OH WELL, ACCORDING TO THE MEDIA JANET JACKSON DESERVES FRONT PAGE NEWS, BUT TOM BRADY IS BACK OF THE SPORT'S SECTION?? WHAT THE HELL????)

Monday, February 02, 2004

Today is Groundhog Day! To normal people, that means absolutely nothing, it's another Monday, not a holiday, go to work. But a small town wanted attention. So some genius decided to base a holiday on whether or not a Groundhog from the small city of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania saw his shadow. And somehow it became a holiday. What next? If my cat sees his reflection are we going to dedicate a memorial to him? Does anyone else completely despise this useless holiday?

You may be thinking to yourself, "Well golly, Punxsutawney Phil predicts whether winter will end early, or if we'll have to endure another six weeks!" And to that, I respond, "No moron, you will have to endure another seven weeks of winter because the first day of spring isn't until March 21 (which also happens to be the birth of the most important person in the world... No, not The WiseGuy, Matthew Broderick!)! Wow! Look at that! I predicted the weather, and I didn't even see my shadow!"

So, it really is Punxsutawney Phil who predicts the weather? You're telling me that thousands of Meteorologists who went to school for years and get paid hundreds of dollards to spend hours pin-pointing the hour that it will start snowing, are wasting their time because freaking groundhog can do it on one day???? Well, I'll be damned (NOTE: THIS IS THE FIRST RECORDED "CURSE" WORD USED BY THE WISEGUY ON THIS SITE OTHER THAN HELL AND CRAP, WHICH AREN'T REALLY SWEAR WORDS, BUT LIKE TO PRETEND TO BE SO THEY CAN GET DATES! IT'S A REVOLUTION). All of that intelligence and money wasted, when a stupid groundhog can do it for free. What next, are you going to tell me that we don't need doctors anymore, because a pig from Kansas has found the cure for cancer???

This calls for drastic action. Punxsutawney Phil, you are officially an enemy of The Randomness Continues for pretending to be a meteorologist. Things like this just piss me off to no end. He's a groundhog. To tell you the truth, I would rather listen to those lying losers on The Weather Channel, then listen to a bunch of old people talk about "the tradition of Groundhog day". If anyone knows a good recipe for groundhog chili, has a car, and can drive me to Pennsylvania... What are we waiting for???