It's not the same now that Amy Poehler left the show but still very funny with Seth Meyers.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
24th District allows gang shrines to stay 48 hours
This just in, from this neighborhood blog, which apparently pays much closer attention to neighborhood issues than I do: it is the policy of the 24th District of Chicago Police (Rogers Park) to allow shrines to deceased gang members on public property, including graffiti, to remain in place for 48 hours. The shrine can include teddy bears (litter in the public way) candles (fire safety and child safety hazard), graffiti (illegal and a neighborhood scourge), and various other items.
This is a shocking concession to gang activity in the 24th District--an area that includes large sections, if not all, of the 49th and 50th Wards. Community members have been engaged in an extended debate with 24th District Commander David Sobczyk over this issue.
Sitting shiva would be too private, I guess.
This is a shocking concession to gang activity in the 24th District--an area that includes large sections, if not all, of the 49th and 50th Wards. Community members have been engaged in an extended debate with 24th District Commander David Sobczyk over this issue.
Sitting shiva would be too private, I guess.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Oscar urban legend
With Marisa Tomei receiving her second Oscar nomination this year for her role in The Wrestler, it's time to attempt to put to rest one of the top Oscar urban legends: "Marisa Tomei didn't really win the 1992 Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her role in My Cousin Vinny. One of the four British nominees really won the award, but the announcer said the wrong name, and the Academy wouldn't correct him in front of worldwide live tv, would it?"
Well, yes. Yes, it would.
Contrary to popular belief, the TelePrompTer does not have the name of the winner on the screen because the person writing the presenter's script does not know the name of the winners. Any of them. Only two guys from the accounting firm AMPAAS retains know the names of the winners. They fill out the cards in the envelopes the presenters take on stage. They stand on either side of the stage during the awards presentations. If, G-d forbid, a presenter says the wrong name as the winner, the accountants would indeed stop the show and correct him or her. Tomei's triumph was a huge upset, but the Britons she ran against probably offset each other, allowing Tomei's vote count to rise to the top. Also her romantic drama Untamed Heart opened Feb. 13, 1993, just as AMPAAS announced the nominations. This helped her immensely. Good for Tomei. She deserved it.
Well, yes. Yes, it would.
Contrary to popular belief, the TelePrompTer does not have the name of the winner on the screen because the person writing the presenter's script does not know the name of the winners. Any of them. Only two guys from the accounting firm AMPAAS retains know the names of the winners. They fill out the cards in the envelopes the presenters take on stage. They stand on either side of the stage during the awards presentations. If, G-d forbid, a presenter says the wrong name as the winner, the accountants would indeed stop the show and correct him or her. Tomei's triumph was a huge upset, but the Britons she ran against probably offset each other, allowing Tomei's vote count to rise to the top. Also her romantic drama Untamed Heart opened Feb. 13, 1993, just as AMPAAS announced the nominations. This helped her immensely. Good for Tomei. She deserved it.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Dibs: the last word from theexpiredmeter.com
Hey Moron! Get That Crap Off My Street!
Hey moron!
Yeah, I’m talking to YOU.
Don’t look around like you don’t know who I’m talking to, you goofball.
Yeah, you, the selfish dumbass who’s just dumped two plastic lawn chairs, or milk crates or orange cones or whatever crap you have lying around your garage, onto the street in front of your home, to try to save that parking space.
Oh.
It’s OK, you say. Because you shoveled out that space all by your lil’ ol’ self!
Wow! Now it all makes sense to me, it’s so transparently obvious now…
Ummm, no, not really.
Boo-F@cking-Hoo! Cry me a river you pansy!
Let me slap some sense into your thick skull.
First, you do not, I repeat DO NOT, own the street–no matter how much snow you shoveled off the pavement.
The streets are owned by everyone. You, me, all the taxpayers. We pay for the streets via gas taxes and city vehicle stickers we purchase every year.
Street parking is first come, first serve. No matter the season, no matter the conditions, no matter if you happen to have your junk out on the street. No exceptions.
It’s like standing in line, or waiting your turn. It’s something you should have learned in kindergarten. It’s a societal tradition that is so deep, so ingrained, it trumps this so-called Chicago tradition of using trash to save your parking spot.
I don’t care if Mayor Daley and most of the alderman give you a smile and a wink and look the other way. They’re a bunch of lilly livered, frontally lobe challenged sissies as well.
So unless you’re old or sick or feeble, you have no excuse for being so pathetic.
Second, you’re from Chicago. You live in the city. You’re not some milquetoast suburbanite, who pulls into their three car, heated garage every evening. You live in a city where you have to park on the street. You’re tough and strong, damnit!
Chicagoans used to be a brawny, hard scrabble bunch. Remember? Chicago is the “city of the big shoulders”, Carl Sandburg says. People with character, strength and resolve. Individuals with a strong backbone and not a limp wrist. NOT a city of faint hearted people and weak spirit whom are bothered by a little bit of snow shoveling.
What the hell happened? When did you go soft Chicago?
Have you been reduced from the “city of the big shoulders,” to the city of “crappy lawn furniture on snowy streets”?
Third, it’s not neighborly to hog a parking spot and throw a bunch of your personal flotsam and jetsam onto the street. It’s unsightly, it’s ugly, it’s littering, it’s uncool.
What happened to chivalry? What happened to a sense of community in our neighborhoods and on our blocks? Are you that self-centered, boorish and immature that you’re gonna try to save that parking space with a folding chair? C’mon now!
So listen up nitwit! Here’s what you’re going to do.
You’re going to take all that crap you left on the street and put it back in your yard or garage or basement or into a dumpster where it belongs.
Next, you’re gong to take your show shovel and dig out ANOTHER space. That’s what good neighbors do. That’s how kind and considerate neighbors behave. That’s how Chicago should act.
Now that you’ve reclaimed your self respect and manhood, you should feel better about yourself. Stand tall, stick your chest out and walk like you’re from that big city called Chicago.
Got it?!?
Good!
Hey moron!
Yeah, I’m talking to YOU.
Don’t look around like you don’t know who I’m talking to, you goofball.
Yeah, you, the selfish dumbass who’s just dumped two plastic lawn chairs, or milk crates or orange cones or whatever crap you have lying around your garage, onto the street in front of your home, to try to save that parking space.
Oh.
It’s OK, you say. Because you shoveled out that space all by your lil’ ol’ self!
Wow! Now it all makes sense to me, it’s so transparently obvious now…
Ummm, no, not really.
Boo-F@cking-Hoo! Cry me a river you pansy!
Let me slap some sense into your thick skull.
First, you do not, I repeat DO NOT, own the street–no matter how much snow you shoveled off the pavement.
The streets are owned by everyone. You, me, all the taxpayers. We pay for the streets via gas taxes and city vehicle stickers we purchase every year.
Street parking is first come, first serve. No matter the season, no matter the conditions, no matter if you happen to have your junk out on the street. No exceptions.
It’s like standing in line, or waiting your turn. It’s something you should have learned in kindergarten. It’s a societal tradition that is so deep, so ingrained, it trumps this so-called Chicago tradition of using trash to save your parking spot.
I don’t care if Mayor Daley and most of the alderman give you a smile and a wink and look the other way. They’re a bunch of lilly livered, frontally lobe challenged sissies as well.
So unless you’re old or sick or feeble, you have no excuse for being so pathetic.
Second, you’re from Chicago. You live in the city. You’re not some milquetoast suburbanite, who pulls into their three car, heated garage every evening. You live in a city where you have to park on the street. You’re tough and strong, damnit!
Chicagoans used to be a brawny, hard scrabble bunch. Remember? Chicago is the “city of the big shoulders”, Carl Sandburg says. People with character, strength and resolve. Individuals with a strong backbone and not a limp wrist. NOT a city of faint hearted people and weak spirit whom are bothered by a little bit of snow shoveling.
What the hell happened? When did you go soft Chicago?
Have you been reduced from the “city of the big shoulders,” to the city of “crappy lawn furniture on snowy streets”?
Third, it’s not neighborly to hog a parking spot and throw a bunch of your personal flotsam and jetsam onto the street. It’s unsightly, it’s ugly, it’s littering, it’s uncool.
What happened to chivalry? What happened to a sense of community in our neighborhoods and on our blocks? Are you that self-centered, boorish and immature that you’re gonna try to save that parking space with a folding chair? C’mon now!
So listen up nitwit! Here’s what you’re going to do.
You’re going to take all that crap you left on the street and put it back in your yard or garage or basement or into a dumpster where it belongs.
Next, you’re gong to take your show shovel and dig out ANOTHER space. That’s what good neighbors do. That’s how kind and considerate neighbors behave. That’s how Chicago should act.
Now that you’ve reclaimed your self respect and manhood, you should feel better about yourself. Stand tall, stick your chest out and walk like you’re from that big city called Chicago.
Got it?!?
Good!
Monday, February 2, 2009
If roadies ran the world
I don't have a Sprint Nextel walkie-talkie. But I still like this Super Bowl ad.
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