It appears that an intrepid reporter at The New York Times has picked up on our (somewhat dated) Comcast paranoia. Please excuse the mess around here. Thanks to my friend Bill, who one-ups me by reading real newspapers while I screw around on Gizmodo, for pointing this out.

The only people worse than pedestrians are summertime pedestrians. There's something about the heat, or possibly the humidity, that makes them extra bold. I am compelled to re-post this -- our first post -- to make myself feel better.

What? It's not new? I haven't posted since April? Fuck off. And enjoy:

It may have come to your attention that people -- and more importantly, I -- no longer appear to post entries to this blog. This is because I've been moving into a new apartment and have had little time to allow my contempt to boil to the surface as words for your visual consumption (and less time to foster similar contempt in my blog-mates). But fear not, dear friends. CFTW will be back shortly, daily, with more ire and less tolerance than ever before. For now, do enjoy this picture of a fat Asian baby in a Kodak EasyShare box.

So while most of the free world (and all of the unfree world) counts down to January 20, 2009 (there's contempt in that sentence, so don't challenge me on this post!), here's something fun for us all to pass the time:



Come up with a caption, post it in the comments section and win our respect and admiration! In all seriousness, I can't even begin to imagine the REAL scenario that is going on in this photo.

Proof that at least some U-Haul troubles are the customer's fault. Shot at the intersection of Rt. 2 and the Alewife Brook Parkway in Cambridge, MA (click to enlarge):




"Our low decks make your Move EASIER!"

"Gentle-Ride Van."

"Fuck."

I like the Red Sox. Not as much as our esteemed editor, but they are my baseball team of choice, I watch most of their games, and keep up on the latest team news. What I don't like, however, are the really annoying ads that come on during Red Sox games. With the season starting up, I'm once again inundated with these ads from local companies. Few of these ads annoy me more than those brought to us from Sullivan Tire.

Regrettably, I only managed to find one of their ads to subject you to:



This is typical of most of the Sullivan Tire ads. They combine the awkwardness of athletes trying to act, the disheveled owner who apparently has accepted that death is just around the corner, and the cloying incoherence of children. This ad is actually one of Sullivan Tire's better efforts. Generally you would have absolutely no idea what the children say and just sit at home thinking of ways you might be able to murder the ad wizards who came up with this bullshit.

Many local companies thing think it's cute to have their employees' children "act" in commercials. I have breaking news for them -- it isn't, it's infuriating, and no one thinks it's cute except you. Many years ago I told myself that I would not give my business to companies who have annoying television commercials. So congratulations, Sullivan Tire, you're not getting my business. SNAP.

It may not look like it, but reader beware, this is a soccer post. The U.S. just unveiled their* new away jersey (yes, this is a post about soccer jerseys) and I am not happy at all.

[Ed. Note: I realize that this use of the plural to describe a team seems strange to us readers from the United States. But this is how it works in Europe, and apparently the rest of the universe, when describing sports clubs. I don't get it either, but I'm willing to invoke a little grammatical relativism to allow Alex to speak in his own garbled, semi-European dialect.]

It's bad enough that Nike keeps on releasing new U.S. jerseys every 2 years or so, but what makes it even worse is they keep on making drastic changes to it. In a country where soccer isn't that popular, one would think that they would be somewhat consistent in their branding in order to maybe, you know, increase their brand awareness and have people start to associate a certain jersey with the U.S. national team. I know I'm talking about their away jersey, but their home jerseys have also been inconsistent (and ugly -- except for this one, which I bought).

But here's the new away jersey:

Yup, that's black (O.K., technically it's anthracite) -- because when I think of the U.S., I think of black, not red, white and blue, but black. What is this, some sort of political statement that the U.S. is evil, or that we love oil? Yes it's only a jersey, but I'm pissed.

I've been saying for the longest time that the U.S. should have at least one of their jerseys be red, because that's what Sam's Army (their diehard fans) wear. When you see Brazil play, they wear yellow, and every Brazilian fan wears yellow. Brazil have worn yellow since the dawn of time. The U.S., meanwhile, doesn't think they should remain consistent at all. Here are some of the jerseys the U.S. have used spanning from 1994-present.

Brazil is yellow.

Argentina is disgusting blue and white.

Italy is blue.

Spain is red.

Portugal is a bunch of douchebags burgundy.

The US is ?!?!?!?!!?

The U.S. should have stuck with this red jersey, but apparently they only wanted to use that for one game versus Latvia in Connecticut.

I'm not the only person who thinks this. Let's band together soccer fans and stop this travesty!

"I need to go to the ATM machine but I don't remember my PIN number!"

If anyone ever says this to you, feel free to ask them if they forgot their "PIN number" because they're a functioning moron. Because, in fact, they are. They may not realize it, but they are.

ATM stands for "Automated Teller Machine" and PIN stands for "Personal Identification Number." So when you say "ATM machine" you're saying "Automated Teller Machine machine" and when you say "PIN number" you're saying "Personal Identification Number number." And you, therefore, are a douchetastical loser.

No, I'm not the first person to call attention to this matter, but since I heard it today at work I felt obliged to remind everyone of these basic rules of living in society. Try not to be a functioning moron and we'll try not to rip you apart on this blog. Deal?

Congratulation to the Boston Red Sox, who started the baseball season off on the right foot by knocking around CFTW favorite Huston Street in the Land of the Rising Sun and securing their first win of the season.

What, no contempt? Fear not. A big fuck you goes to Joe Blanton, who started my fantasy season off on the wrong foot with under six innings of 4.76-ERA, 1.41-WHIP ball. I suppose that's what I get for starting pitchers against the home squad.

From the elevator this morning:

Cute Girl: Wow, it's cold! When is spring going to get here?

Douche: Actually, it is spring! The vernal equinox was on March 22.

Cute Girl: Oh, really? Then I feel robbed.

Douche: Yeah, the vernal equinox is on March 22 every year. I remember because it's my birthday!

Cute Girl: Oh, really? Happy Birthday!

Jesus fucking christ. The vernal equinox -- known to people who aren't trying to show off to cute coworkers in elevators as the "spring equinox" or "the first day of spring" -- does not occur on March 22 every year. This year -- and most years, it seems -- spring started on March 20. As far as I can tell, spring has never started on March 22. What a stupid cock.

I don't mean to post two English language-related posts so close together, but I must be heard!

Recently I called Verizon Wireless, my lovely cell phone provider, regarding alternate phone plans and text message packages -- I was going over my minutes allotment and was debating switching to another carrier.

Laura (that was probably her real name -- she didn't sound like someone in a call center from another country trying to sound American so that my customer service experience would be more pleasant) answered the phone, and I could tell from her tone that she wasn't going to the very helpful.

I kindly asked her about what my phone plan options were with Verizon because it looked like I could get a much better plan if I switched to T-Mobile. I was under the impression that my contract was up so I could just switch providers at will. She combatively said, "Well, sir, these are the plans we have, we can't go making up a special plan for you." I was merely inquiring what my options were and she took it as an attack on her personally. She then looked up my account and informed me that I was currently able to get a new phone, but my actual contract expired in June. Empowered with this knowledge she attempted to be smart and said,

"You can't switch providers without paying an early termination fee, so your point about wanting to switch providers is mute."

Yes, that's right, she said mute, not moot -- like the conventional way of saying the expression. I promptly replied, "Yes, my point is indeed mute, thank you for your time -- goodbye."


Photo: DC JwJ

There are lots of bad things in this world. Rape? Check. Murder? Double check. Dane Cook, Carlos Mencia, GoBots? Hahahahah check. Checks all a-fucking-round. But if there's one thing I hate more than all of those things ("he hates something more than rape? He's a monster!" SHUT UP I KNOW), it's getting on the T in the morning and accidentally running into a coworker.

No offense to my coworkers, most of whom are quite pleasant (for LAWYERS, lol!). The problem is that morning T time is my time. It's quiet fucking Josh time, when I listen to music, read a book, and steel myself for a long, arduous, sometimes boring-sometimes stressful work day. That's right, I want to listen to Metric, or Final Fantasy Piano Collections, and read awesome fantasy series, or books about science or poker, or a good novel. I do not want to listen to, or be forced to spout, smalltalk. I assure you, as intrigued as my face looks (and trust me, that sort of contortion hurts), I am not interested in where you're coming from ("Just outside Porter? Cool, cool."), where you went to school, or (jesus fucking christ forbid) what you're "working on right now." Believe me, I know it's "cold outside," I know "the Metro is a terrible newspaper," and I really know (seriously!) that "it's tougher and tougher getting up in the morning."

So please, dear coworkers. If you see me on the T and want to say hi -- despite my obvious attempts to avoid eye contact -- do so. But don't take my rote reply greeting as an invitation to a sit-down god damned morning chit-chat. I'm going to look at this cute kitten to make myself feel better, and I suggest you do the same.

Photo by Gui, o gato.

I'm definately not as much of a grammar/vocabulary Nazi as our esteemed editor, but there are a few word misuses that really annoy me. One of particular note is the use of "hung" as the past tense of the method of execution "hanging."

The past tense of the execution is hanged, not hung, you plebians!

Incorrect:

Saddam Hussein was hung on December 30, 2006.

Correct:

Saddam Hussein was hanged on December 30, 2006.

Although modern dictionaries suggest that "hanged" and "hung" are somewhat interchangeable -- that "hanged" is appropriate for "official" executions, and "hung" can be used more informally -- fuck that. The correct sentence means he was executed by hanging on that date. The incorrect sentence means, among other things, that Saddam had a large penis on that date -- maybe he started using Extenze male enhancement products that day and now can satisfy Mrs. Hussein.

I remember being in seventh grade and learning about alliteration. It was touted as a poetic tool and, indeed, you see it in many poems and song lyrics. It was also touted as a hard thing to do well, but I never really saw the difficultly. So to our 20ish subscribers, CFTW writers and random site stumblers, I pose a challenge: in the comments section of this post, write a longer alliterative sentence than the one below and you win a prize!* Of course, the sentence has to make grammatical sense. [Ed. note: He's right. I'm watching you.]

"Twas tough trying to talk through things though tricky tasks to tackle tend to tighten targets through time."

That's a an 18-word sentence. Can you beat it?

* The prize is our admiration, but don't let that stop you from doing it!

It had to happen sooner or later. Of all the modern video game consoles, the XBOX 360, while awesome, is a well-documented piece of shit. Design flaws based largely on a curious inability to manage the heat produced by the 360's enormous CPU and GPU ensured that an entire generation of gamers experienced the heartbreak of their games freezing, their saves disappearing, and their consoles shutting down entirely.

When a 360 experiences what Microsoft calls "general hardware failure" -- which, presumably, is shorthand for "what do you expect when you hire Chinese toddlers to build complicated game systems?" -- the hapless gamer sees a terrible symbol: the Red Ring of Death. The Red Ring of Death (RROD) -- actually three flashing red lights forming a three-quarter circle around the console's power indicator -- is known to every gamer. It is built into our genetic code. From birth, we recognize the RROD as a symbol of death and destruction:



Today -- March 17, 2008 -- I saw the RROD. My poor 360, which I've owned for over 2 years, finally gasped its last breath. Let's have a moment of silence:

...
...
..

But let us not despair! All is not lost. Microsoft saw the error of its ways (or at least, its potential liability for the error of its ways) and extended all 360 warranties to three years from the date of purchase for all RROD-related failures. I mean, that and I have another XBOX 360 lying around for just such an emergency. But what if I didn't? What then?! Fuck you, Microsoft! Feel the indignation and rage from the me in that alternate dimension where I was left 360-less for over a month!

Photo: Milkham

Apparently CFTW's esteemed editor thinks that it's ok to take two days off from posting because he turned 30 on Saturday. As not only a loyal writer, but also avid reader, I would like to call him out on skirting his duties.

I propose that fellow CFTW writers join me in a revolution against this megalomaniac and get the voice, power, and respect we rightfully deserve. For too long have we toiled under his corrupt and evil rule.

I will admit that when he campaigned to become CFTW's first president I was enamored by his message of hope, change, and a brighter tomorrow. His campaign speeches offered a fresh perspective and his cunning grasp of the English language made him a much better candidate than yours truly. In the debates against CFTW poster Duncan he showed an amazing breadth of knowledge for any issue that came up, leaving the simpleton Duncan speechless on numerous occasions. The debates were eerily reminiscent of the first John Kerry vs. George Bush debate, and Josh looked like John F. Kennedy while Duncan came across as a sickly looking Richard Nixon.

This wave of euphoria was shortly lived. After being elected Josh quickly implemented Franco-esque rule. He mandated posting days for Duncan and myself, clearly punishing us as he viewed us as a threat to his power. Being bogged down with the bureaucracy of posting has prevented us from providing checks and balances to his dictatorial rule.

The situation has worsened with Josh clearly suffering from dementia relating to his advanced age. I would say we should depose him through governmental means, but I fear that his control over the CFTW military is too strong.

Meet me behind the CFTW office at 5pm on Monday and we can work together to end this. Punch and pie will be served.

You know what completely sucks? The predictive text software on my Verizon RAZR V3m phone. Predictive text is useful only if it successfully, you know, predicts what you're trying to type on your ridiculous 12-button keypad. In this, my RAZR constantly disappoints.

Of course, it's unreasonable to think that any software will predict your intended text out of the box. Thus, modern predictive text software "learns" your preferred words for a given series of button presses. It "figures out" when it has suggested something silly, and promptly "forgets" that suggestion when you correct it.

Sadly, my phone is retarded. It suggests insane, nonsensical letter strings instead of words, and continues to suggests them even after I've angrily corrected it. Seriously! I just tried to type "This fucking game is complete bullshit." Instead, I got:

This game is complete bulkshit.

What? What the fuck is "bulkshit"? I swear, I've been correcting this mistake for two years now! I just tried "I'm going to throw this phone in a fucking lake" and got:

I'm going ve throw this phone in c fucking lake.

And "What did I do to deserve this?":

What did g do to deserve this?

Yes, that's right, I meant to use the letter "g" there. That makes complete fucking sense.

Anyone who even remotely knows me is aware of my love of terrible action movies -- for instance, I spent Sunday watching Under Siege 2: Dark Territory, and one of my favorite movies is Total Recall!

For some reason I'm just drawn to every awful movie starring Steven Seagal, Jean-Claude Van Damme, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone (I still need to see the new Rambo!), etc. I know they don't make good movies, the overall awful quality of their movies is just hilariously brilliant.

Watching Steven Seagal get fatter and fatter over time combined with the diminishing quality of the films and the fact that he's now just doing straight-to-dvd or cable tv movies is just classic. Yet, Seagal still apparently takes himself very seriously. Whether he's making a movie decrying pollution and defending Native Americans in On Deadly Ground (or Fire Down Below, or The Patriot) or releasing a blues cd, or developing his own energy drink (I have some in my room if you'd like to try it out -- and if you're a hot chick). If you have a chance to read the book Fraud there's a hilarious chapter on the author attending a new age meditation session led by the mighty Steven Seagal.

So while Seagal branches out in various media and businesses, Jean-Claude Van Damme continues to make movies. Van Damme's latest movie however, appears to be a stroke of genius! Clearly not taking himself too seriously, he has embraced his life as an old, washed up, action movie star who has had his share of off-screen problems. With all this in mind, I present to you the trailer for his next movie:



Genius, absolute genius. Of course, I should note that Van Damme appears to have had nothing do with writing or directing this promising film. But he's starring in it, and with a sense of humor. I can't wait.

Fred and Sharon own a video production company. They, apparently, offer video filming and editing, compositing, websites and 3D animation. And they are FANTASTIC at it. See for yourself:



My favorite part is the call to action at the end: "A Video Movie Could Improve Your Life." And then a transparent and polygonal Loch Ness Monster comes out of the lake? Awesome.

If this isn't a joke, then it's absolutely the worst thing I've ever seen made by humans with technology. I almost want to hire them to make a movie about my life, just because it would be so completely interesting to watch. If this is a joke, kudos to you Fred and Sharon, because it's outrageously bad (in a fantastic way).

Today I was having a conversation with someone -- someone educated, no less -- that used the word "supposably." Now, contrary to popular belief, supposably is a word, but it's rarely the word people mean to say. They mean supposedly.

A roughly accurate definition of supposably -- the root of which, "supposable," means "capable of being supposed" or "conceivable" -- is "conceivably." Compare these two sentences:

Supposedly Alex is good at soccer. Used in this sense, the sentence means that it is alleged that Alex is good at soccer.

Supposably Alex is good at soccer. This means (sort of) that it is conceivable that Alex is good at soccer. Taken to a more accurate abstraction, it means that it is possible that we could suppose that Alex is good at soccer.

Obviously, the meaning of the latter sentence is both silly and confusing. So don't use it. Although it is our duty as English aficionados (ha, that's a Spanish word!) to learn which words exist and which do not, "supposably" is one that most people would be better off forgetting. It'll only get them into trouble.

Building off of my dear friend Josh's previous post about politics, I would like to share some political views of my own. Granted, I'm no political guru, but I am currently watching Meet The Press, so that probably makes me more qualified that 99% of registered voters in the country (yes, I know, I'm foreign, blah blah blah, yes I am allowed to vote -- I'm an American citizen, so FU!).

Now, before I go on my rant, I have to preface it by saying that given a choice between Clinton and Obama, I would actually vote for Obama. I don't, however, think this has anything to do with my tirade (although I do think an Obama - McCain presidential election would be a much more interesting, intelligent, and civil election, where the candidates might actually talk about issues as opposed to petty bickering and negative ads).

Anyway, back to Meet the Press. Sen. Tom Daschle (D-SC, Obama supporter) and Gov. Ed Rendell (D-PA, Clinton supporter) were both on the show stumping for their candidate and discussing the whole lack of Michigan and Florida (MiFla) representation (for those who don't know what I'm talking about, basically MiFla moved up their primary dates against the rules of the Democratic National Committee, and as a result candidates didn't campaign there, and the election results didn't count). Needless to say, with the Clinton campaign trailing, they want to hold a new election to get the MiFla primaries to count, while the Obama campaign doesn't.

Now, maybe I'm naive, but to me there's no reason why MiFla's votes should count, and they shouldn't hold another election for them either. They knew what would happen if they moved up the primary dates, and they did it anyway! Yes, I will agree that perhaps the current primary system isn't ideal, it makes states where elections are held earlier more relevant. So maybe that's something that the parties should work on. Obviously the Clinton campaign wouldn't be making a stink about this if they were winning the delegate race and polls showed them losing MiFla.

NAACP Chairman Julian Bond chimed in with "great concern at the prospect that million of voters in Michigan and Florida could ultimately have their votes completely discounted," and expressed alarm that refusing to seat delegates from Florida and Michigan would disenfranchise both states' minority communities.

I feel like I'm going to tear out my hair! MiFla disenfranchised their own voters, all their voters, not just minority voters -- apparently it's more of an issue that they're minority voters? Complain to MiFla! They knew the rules, didn't follow them, and got penalized exactly in the way they knew they would. They thought the DNC was bluffing, they weren't, they got screwed, too bad for them!

Yay politics!

First, a recap of last week's poll: a plurality of respondents (36%) picked "their v. there" as the more annoying spelling mix-up in the latest CFTW poll, edging out "hear v. here" with 27% and "it's v. its" with 18%. Another 18% of respondents consider spelling to be retarded. And gay.

This weeks poll touches on, of all things, U.S. politics. Sort of. At this point, all three contenders for President in the upcoming election have appeared -- awkwardly -- on Saturday Night Live at one point or another. Which candidate was the most awkward? Vote at right.

1. Barack Obama (he's at the end of the sketch):



2. Hillary Clinton (she's at the end of the sketch, too):



3. John McCain (this is actually something of a disservice to Senator McCain, as he hosted the episode, so it's hard to justify judging him on this one clip. But do it anyway):



Vote, or you're a bad American!

This has been a long time coming. Assuming you're not reading this blog on your totally awesome iPhone or iPod or iWhatever while driving, or riding a bike, or doing something else that requires vision, I want you to close your eyes. Think of something romantic. Flowers, a candlelit dinner, a long walk on the fucking beach, whatever. Think of something hot. Like doing your significant other, or Angelina Jolie, or Johnny Depp, or, you know, Monica from the new American Gladiators.

OK, now not to pry -- and ignoring the obvious paradox: how are you reading this with your eyes closed? -- but where do you see yourself doing this person? In a bed? On a couch? At the beach? At a public sporting event? You're so fucking lame. I'm willing to bet none of you said "in a bathtub." Well, get with the program! Fucking in the bathtub is the coolest. Just ask Cialis:



The end of every fucking Cialis commercial is the same. Couples in varying states of decomposition lie in (presumably empty) bathtubs. Separate bathtubs. What the fuck are they doing? How is this romantic? Or sexy? Is it a generational thing? Are old people all about bathtub sex? Are they waiting for "when the moment is right"? Isn't this contrary to their message?

"Baby, I think I feel the Cialis working...yup! Oh YEAH, it's working!"

"Oh, darling, that's wonderful! Let me just climb out of my tub and -"

"Honey, be careful, don't -"

"Oh, fiddlesticks! I broke my hip."

Or maybe they're enjoying a post-"right time" buzz? "Oh yeah, that was a good screw, let's go enjoy a cig and a cool, stagnant bath in these ridiculous fucking porcelain bathtubs we leave out in the back yard, conveniently facing the setting sun."

Let's get something very clear. There are few things less sexy than a bathtub. I can't even think of any right now. Two bathtubs? Disgusting plus absurd. But between the hand-holding and the sunset imagery, I like to think that Eli Lilly knows what it's doing, and that these decrepit devotees are simply holding hands, waiting for end to come. Cheers to that -- old people shouldn't be having sex anyway.

That's right kids, it's obviously tax season and I know everyone is really excited about doing their taxes and hopefully getting a refund. With tax season comes a wave of commercials advertising the cheapest and best tax refund services. I have no issue with companies like H&R Block offering services to file your taxes -- I mean, I use TurboTax online to get my whopping $60 dollar refund (minus $20 in fees!).

What seems a little outrageous are the ads I see for Tax Refund Anticipation Loans (RALs). Like the name implies, these are loans that tax companies give you instead of having to wait for your tax refund. Now, I know people are all excited about getting money as fast as possible, but after looking at the conditions of one of these RALs, I couldn't help but throw up profusely all over my keyboard and then stab myself in the spleen.

Here are the rates, fees, etc. for a typical RAL from H&R Block:

I commend them on having the balls to actually post their rates on their website. 36% APR!? And that's an estimate! You'd almost certainly be better off using your credit card as a means to get a cash advance and buy stuff you can't really afford. If you e-file, you typically get your tax refund within a week. Surely you can wait a week and then get all the money you're entitled to, as opposed to giving H&R Block, etc. your hard earned dosh.

I tried looking online for one of H&R Block's RAL ads, but only came across this:



He seems reputable. I think I'd want to have him do my taxes and handle all my finances. I mean, he's singing in the ad, and that just oozes credibility. You see what he did though, he made his place sound great by slightly altering the names of competitors Jackson Hewitt and H&R Block to Jackson Who Did It and H&R Box respectively. Brilliant. I don't want to get my RAL and taxes done from a place whose name is synonymous with vagina -- what does a vagina know about tax refunds? I'm going to Larkins Tax Services!