Modest As Cake

Monday, August 29, 2005


Miracles, millionaires, supernatural stuff.
My thanks to for this.

I have to admit, I am surprised that there is no example of how to pray for the Pat Robertson kind of miracles, like assassinating heads of other countries...

Monday, August 22, 2005

Blogger suggests a way to whap spammers

What is the word verification option?
The "word verification" option can be found on the Settings | Comments tab for your blog.

If you choose "yes" for this setting, then people leaving comments on your blog will be required to complete a word verification step, similar to the one presented when you create a blog.

What this does is to prevent automated systems from adding comments to your blog, since it takes a human being to read the word and pass this step. If you've ever received a comment that looked like an advertisement or a random link to an unrelated site, then you've encountered comment spam. A lot of this is done automatically by software which can't pass the word verification, so enabling this option is a good way to prevent many such unwanted comments.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Never mind.

Seen at the airport: THE most suspicious-looking family. Who are they? Why is their clothing unstained and unwrinkled? Why are they all smiling? (Why is the girl wearing sandals and socks? Are they German?) How is it that all their shirts are devoid of slogans and logos? Don't they know you can't bring wrapped gifts to the airport without getting them shredded by security? And, hey, what's in that "football", kid? A little C-4? Not wearing sneakers -- that should have been our first clue...

Friday, August 12, 2005

Turns out it is the sign of protest over use of non-union workers at a construction site. I particularly like the bag o' money, the yellow teeth, and the chompin' cigar.

When you first see a giant inflatable rat on your streetcorner, you think: children's party? Chucky Cheese opening? Then you get closer, wondering, wait a sec... exterminator working?

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Oh yeah.

Mattel + Chic Manhattan Furrier = Another generation for PETA to toss paint on.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Overheard during two-player PS2 San Andreas:

"It's not my fault I died."

"Who said overkill's a bad thing?"

"Let's get the low-rider."

"Too bad!" "Too bad, eh?"

"He's gonna bust us!"

"Ah, the old M4..."

"Oops, there's the ambulance. Gotta blow it up. Here comes the meat wagon!"

"Look at all the vehicles -- they're just asking for a grenade!"

"Go! Go!" "You're not in the plane yet!"

"I like landing on buildings, that's so much fun."

"Building-hopping! Like that John Wayne movie, The High and the Mighty. 'Oh, my god the plane's on fire!'..."

"I'm doing Monty Python -- 'Don't run away from me -- I'll bite your knees off!"

"Stop shooting me! What are you doing?"

"I think you should eat more pineapple! hahahahahahaha..."

"You also blew me up twice! AND you ran me over."

"Change the radio station. Do you want to listen to the gangster rap station?"

"Slam into him!"

"Oh god, who shot us?"

"I think I shot us."

"No -- get them! They opened fire on us!"

"You pay a thousand bucks and you turn your car into a bomb. It worked pretty well for gang warfare in the original Grand Theft Auto."

"You understand you're vulnerable to gunfire now?" "Yup. Just the way I like it." "Perhaps this explains why you're always dying!"

"Seatbelt check!"

"Aw, c'mon how's it MY fault?" "You SHOT me!"

"Who else is firing?"

Our Reputation Is, er, Solid Around The Globe

Pessimist Tales, volume 1, issue 1

here's the format:

What was the problem / jarring surprise / bad event?
What did I anticipate next?
What actually happened next?
Moral of the story.

Problem: The Tuscan Co milk with an expiration date of August 8 (sell in NYC by August 5), which I bought last night for the express purpose of having milk for coffee this morning, poured out chunky.

I anticipated: I would carry the milk back to the bodega and they would a) attempt intimidation, b) deny they sold me the milk, c) make me feel like a cheap schnook for nickel-and-diming them to death over such a low-profit-margin item, jeez lady.

Actually: The guy behind the counter immediately hit the "cash register open" when I walked in, pulling out my refund, and apologizing profusely: "the company, I don't know what went wrong. I know, I know, terrible." Another guy went into the case and got me a new one, saying "our refrigerator is good. this is terrible." And a third guy echoed, "that company, they wrong."

Moral of story: Sometimes people want to keep your business, and want to make nice. I like it when it happens.

Monday, August 01, 2005

We can all take to the overpasses with cardboard painted white and make a big impression. It's time for Bush to meet us. We're the ones saying he can't take our lunch money anymore.