Sexting in the Comics

I’m usually a big fan of the comic strip “Zits,” which features the cleverly drawn travails of  a high-school kid and his family. Today’s feature, though, is a bit disturbing:

I know the author is trying to pay homage to the tired “Love is…” comics. And he’s clearly mocking the trend of everyone and their brother putting every stupid screw-up on YouTube they’re able to shoot with their cell phones.

But today’s comic just comes across as creepy sexting.

My boyfriend is the president

No, I’m not Monica Lewinsky writing under a pseudonym. (Although if you’re out there Monica, I’ve always wanted to meet you. Please drop me a line.)

No, this is the latest creative video from our friends from Japan.

I was tipped to this video by following Josh Fruhlinger’s twitter feed. He’s the guy behind Comics Curmudgeon, which I follow religiously. Josh described the video as:

Greatest video of all time, fan-made Japanese political porn videogame trailer division.

I can’t top that.

Please watch.

Two points of interest for October 26

It’s my birthday.

It’s also the anniversary of the gunfight at the OK Corral.

One other point of interest: From Wikipedia — so take it for what it’s worth — Doc Holliday’s last words came after asking for some whiskey:

As he lay dying, Holliday allegedly asked for a drink of whiskey. Amused, he looked at his bootless feet as he died — no one ever thought that he would die in bed, with his boots off. His reputed last words were, “Well I’ll be damned. This is funny.” John Henry “Doc” Holliday died November 8, 1887. He was 36.

I’ve outlived Doc Holliday by 3 years, so I’ll be hoisting a glass of whiskey in honor of the gunslinger tonight.

Man, if we start bombing the moon, we’d better win

The USA is planning to bomb the moon tomorrow.

Amy Ephron is leading the anti-moon-war protest.

We’d better not be still at war with the moon in eight years. If we are, I’m going to be very upset. If we can’t get the moon to surrender ASAP, well, I think we should just pack it up and hand over the Superpower keys to China.

Moon photo courtesy of benswing via Flickr using the Creative Commons license.

My frittata

Here’s a pic of the frittata I whipped up this morning with tomatoes and Parmesan cheese.

I cook to deal with the basic stress of life. Well, I drink, too. But cook as well.

This turned out to be a nice little meal this morning.

Back to work tomorrow. We’ve got a series of nice stories we’re rolling out on the news Web site I edit, Texas Watchdog.

From the fates worse than death department…

This from KTRK ABC-13 via the Associated Press:

BRISBANE, Australia — An Australian woman was rescued after spending a week wedged between her toilet and the bathroom door, an official said Tuesday.

The 67-year-old woman, suffering from dehydration, was taken to a hospital after firefighters in the eastern city of Ipswich ended her ordeal Sunday by removing the bathroom door from its hinges, Queensland state government spokesman Chantelle Rule said. The woman, who is diabetic, was not seriously ill, Rule said.

The woman, who has not been named, fell during the early hours of July 19 and somehow became trapped with her feet stuck on either side of the toilet bowl and her body wedged against the inward-opening door, Rule said.

That’s not the fate worse than death, although I think we’re creeping close to the line.

Let’s concentrate on a key line from the story: “The woman, who has not been named…”

Now, if this happened to you and you were named? Well pal, there’s your fate worse than death.

Stupid is as stupid says (Alternative title: Hating the Internet and strangling bloggers)

More questionable quotes from yours truly.

I’ve been interviewed a couple of times now on new media and how journalists might continue doing investigative and enterprise reporting in a news environment wrought with cutbacks and layoffs.

One of those recent interviews was with PBS’ NewsHour with Jim Lehrer for an online segment on the future of investigative journalism. The reporter was following the discussion at the Investigative Reporters and Editors conference held last month in Baltimore, Md.

Anyway, I agree to be interviewed and, as is my style, I try to be funny. (I always forget that my attempts at humor are always hit or miss. And, frankly, mostly miss. If jokes had a batting average I’d be Bill Bergen.)

So during the interview I try to make fun of the fact that I wish I could still be working newspaper gig at The Denver Post or The Tennessean  in those papers’ golden ages instead of running a journalism non-profit outfit whose future is uncertain.

Here’s one quote that sounded funny in my head at the time: ”I wish the Internet had never happened.”

I also alluded to strangling bloggers who put me out of a job.

Ha, ha. Get it?

Funny.

Ugh.

Sorry bloggers. Oh, and sorry Mr. Internet, whom I now rely on for my complete livelihood.

Dunce photo courtesy of I like’s Flickr photostream via the Creative Commons license.

Are you sad? Down? A bit depressed?

You won’t be after reading this.

Seriously. This killed me. Please go to this site and feel better about yourself immediately.

The site is Look at this fucking hipster. People send in photos of people trying to be too cool for school and then the folks running the site post the photo and shoot a zinger of a capiton under each shot. It’s brutal.

And it should be.

Whoever created this should get the Nobel Prize. And the Pulitzer. And the Peabody.

Yes… they deserve the Nopulody Prize.

A small taste… and then go immediately.

Caption?

“This is the best Malcolm-X-is-rolling-over-in-his-grave party evaaaaaaah!”

Not to keep making Airplane references here, but Shirley you must be joking about this one

Ahhh, yes. There’s nothing more delightful then getting off a plane like I did this morning and finding there has been yet another airline tragedy.

This time a 60-year-old pilot pilot died mid-flight, with the plane landing safely in Newark. I’m happy I was not on board to be asked to land the plane, because, well, some things that happened in the war and I developed a drinking problem.

Listen, I don’t mean to be beating to death the Airplane references here, but wasn’t that the exact plot of Airplane? I mean, add the plane landing in New Jersey and that’s a sequel you could sell to Hollywood for millions.

This whole week has been a mess in the airline industry between planes disintigrating in air and children getting placed on planes going to who-knows-where.

But seriously… do you think the scene on the Continental flight where the pilot died was any different from this one?

Surely more airline tragedies can’t befall us?

Actually, I’m sure they can. And don’t call me Shirley.

Joey, do you like movies about gladiators?

Here’s the big news out of Houston: Twice in the past week two unaccompanied minors were jetted to the wrong destinations on flights run by our hometown airline, Continental.

The write-up from The Houston Press’ Hair Balls blog:

One 10-year-old girl who was trying to get from Boston to Cleveland ended up in Newark. (The only time ending up in Newark is “not so bad” is when you were intending to go to Cleveland.) A, 8-year-old girl trying to get to Charlotte from Houston ended up in Fayetteville. Not Fayetteville, North Carolina — which would have been close, at least — but Fayetteville, Arkansas.

A spokesperson for the airlines said in a prepared statement that “Continental has clear procedures to assist children traveling alone, and we take the responsibility very seriously. We have also taken immediate action to reinforce to airport representatives that they must closely adhere to established procedures.”

Now, I don’t doubt that Continental might bear some responsibility here. And I have no doubt AT ALL that there will be lawsuits galore over this one.

But these kids were 8 and 10 years old. Now, my memory is pretty much shot, but I don’t think I would have gotten on the wrong plane at that age. I mean, I’m sure I’d be pretty clear on my destination. And I’m damn sure that my parents would have pounded the destination city into my head before they dropped me off at the airport.

I’m also damn sure my ass would have been grass if I got onto the wrong plane. My dad would have blamed somebody, but that somebody would have been me, not the airline.

I’m just saying that the kids might want to bear some responsibility here and the parents might want to do a little less whining to the newspaper.

Now, if Continental had accidently put some kids on an Air France flight gone bad, there might be some room for a lawsuit.