Ooey Gooey Crunchy Gutter Snacks

Snack #5: Trolling for Tripe

The Play Place McDonald's has these surrealistic playground structures appended onto some of their restaurants (and I use that word in the loosest possible sense); they are most likely found, curiously enough, in towns where there isn't a whole heck of a lot else going on. Go figure. Anyway, they call them "The Play Place." And that's not trademarked. I guess trademarking "The Play Place" would be like trying to trademark "The Air You Breathe." I'm sure somebody somewhere has actually tried to trademark "The Air You Breathe," and fully expected to sit back and watch the royalty checks roll right in. Something tells me they were sadly disappointed. There are all kinds of idiots out there, you know. The Play Place is made up of really cool, multicolored plastic tubes big enough for little kids to crawl around inside. Every few yards or so, there's a big plastic window built into the plastic tube. These windows serve a dual purpose, which is to both allow the parents to see their happy little kids trundling through this plastic behemoth, and to reduce the odds that the little kids suddenly become highly claustrophobic, freak out and start puking Quarter Pounder with Cheeses all through the tubing. The tubing, by the way, is clearly made of a material which allows for easy clean up of puked Quarter Pounder with Cheeses. It's a brilliant design created by a brilliant man. Not one to miss a marketing opportunity, McDonald's puts a big McDonald's logo in the center of each of these windows. This takes advantage of the little kids' mushy brains by very subtly getting them to associate "fun" with "McDonald's." I know this because of my Rhetoric background. I spent 4 long years at UC Berkeley learning things like this. Money well spent, I'd say. By the way, I consider the term "Quarter Pounder with Cheese" to be a noun, so pluralizing it as "Quarter Pounder with Cheeses" is OK. Hope you agree. (That's a lie.)

My New Job
I have a new job. Readers of Ooey Gooey Crunchy Gutter Snacks have requested that I talk about it, so they can share in my joy. Well, I'm working for an awesome company called PostLinear Entertainment in San Francisco. We're in the business of developing cross-media content ... stuff that can be a TV show, a feature film, a computer game, a web site, a novel, a comic strip, a line of action figures, a coffee mug, yadda yadda yadda, you get the idea. We handle the computer game part, mostly.

We share a Mission district warehouse space with 5 other companies: Wild Brain, ThinkFish, Imagination Plantation and Poly Studio. The people I work around are complete lunatics. Here's the recipe: Take all the class clowns from every High School in America. Age them a decade. Stick them in a warehouse space. Add hallucinogens. Stir well.

It's completely manic, zealous creative energy seeping through out the building ... it's an absolute zoo populated by the coolest people on the planet. Wild Brain is a traditional animation studio, drawing Saturday morning cartoons, Coke commercials, and other wacked out stuff. ThinkFish is an entertainment software developer, and Poly Studio is a design house. Imagination Plantation is a motion capture and 3D animation studio.

Nobody has come out and said it yet, but I think our office is competing for a lesser-known Chamber of Commerce Award given to the business with the "Most Piercings and Tattoos." And we're at the very least runner-up for "Most Action Figures Per Capita." I very simply couldn't have asked for a better work environment.

What the Heck Good Am I?

So, to the point of what I do there .... I'm a Producer. I'm making computer games for Windows 95 and the 'net. I can't tell ya what they are, but suffice it to say that it's oodles of fun. Now, I want a vacation.

And a tattoo.

Weird Stuff
This is true. If you're on a boat, and you're in distress (like, say you spilled Merlot on your kakhis), and your communications equipment is out, and your flare gun went overboard, it's OK to start firing a gun continuously to attract attention. The rule doesn't really specify what you can be shooting at. Think about it.

OK, I should clear something up. People who know me will get upset with that last paragraph, because they know that I a) sail a lot, b) drink Merlot, c) wear kakhis almost exclusively, and d) shoot guns until all the ammo's gone. OK, the last one's not true, but the rest are.

I know that's hard to believe. I'm sorry. Please don't leave my page!?

One Man's Ceiling is Another Man's Floor

Oh, by the way, I gave up on trying the "I'm walking around on the ceiling" thingy (see Snack #4) on my first day at PostLinear. After walking in there, it became abundantly clear that not a single person would've even flinched. In fact, they'd probably have promoted me to King!

Man, you think I'm weird? I'm freaking vanilla compared to these people.

Vices, Redux
Isn't it weird to know that all your co-workers know your vices? Remember?:

wet my bed

twirl my hair

be extremely competitive

web surfing

That's the beauty of the web, I suppose. Oh, and I'm still sticking with the story that I don't wet my bed anymore.

Overheard at The Minivan Dealership
Salesman: Welcome! Can I help you?
Customer: Why, yes, I was just admiring this fine looking automobile.
Salesman: Ahh, yes. Did you have any questions I could answer?
Customer: Actually, yes. Is it slow?
Salesman: You betcha!
Customer: How does it corner?
Salesman: Like a freight train! If I may I ask, sir, what's your IQ?
Customer: Um ... 121.
Salesman: Hmmm. (muffled) This could be a problem.
Customer: Will I be able to fill it with my screaming kids?
Salesman: To the point of distraction!
Customer: What other features does it have?
Salesman: Well, this new model features The Confuzer(tm), guaranteed to completely muddle the driver's decision-making processes and analytical reasoning faculties. You'll wake up doing 45 in the fast lane, and it'll seem perfectly natural! It's a very popular feature.
Customer: Well, you sold me! I'll take it.
Salesman: Wonderful, wonderful! Well, why don't we head back here for the operation, then.
Customer: Operation?
Salesman: Why sure! The lobotomy. It's required by law now. You see, before the Minivan Lobotomy Law was passed, guys would be out there driving these cars with the fully conscious realization that they'd be driving a Porche if it wasn't for their crummy families, blah blah blah ... you get the idea. So, they'd be hauling around, bitter as hell, driving this tank like it was a sportscar! It wasn't pretty.
Customer: Oh, I see. Well, let's get started. I've gotta pick up the kids at soccer.

Silly Putty
Silly Putty is the greatest substance ever invented. Having said that, let me tell you that the "Silly" doesn't really refer to the inevitable wackiness that ensues when the putty is released from its incubating egg shell. No sir, not at all. It's actually a reference to silicon, a basic component of this uber-toy.

I always have a minimum of two separate chunks of Silly Putty within reach at any given time. I average about four.

The Sexual Weather Report Which, of course, brings me to the Sexual Weather Report for Snack #5. The low-lying bushlands will experience a tropical rainstorm today, with clearing by afternoon.

Reprinted without permission, but it's funny as hell:
The "Darwin Award": It's an annual honor given to the person who did the gene pool the biggest service by killing themselves in the most extraordinarily stupid way.

Last year's winner was the fellow who was killed by the Coke machine, which toppled over on top of him as he was attempting to tip a free soda out of it.

Now we present this year's winner:
The Arizona Highway Patrol came upon a pile of smoldering metal embedded into the side of a cliff rising above the road at the apex of a curve. The wreckage resembled the site of an airplane crash, but it was a car. The type of car was unidentifiable at the scene.

The boys at the lab finally figured out what it was, and what had happened. It seems that a guy (or gal) somehow got hold of a JATO (Jet Assisted Take Off) unit that is used to give heavy military transport planes an extra "push" for taking off from short airfields. These are solid-fuel rockets which burn as the airplane starts down the runway, then are discarded once the fuel is spent. (They don't have an "OFF" switch. They burn until the fuel is gone.)

He (she?) took the JATO and his (her?) Chevy Impala out into the desert, found a long, straight stretch of road, attached the JATO to the car, jumped in, got up some speed, and fired off the rocket. Best as they could determine, he (she?) was doing something between 250-300 mph when he came to that curve... The brakes were completely burned away, apparently from trying to slow the car.

And for this year's Runner-Up:
This man was in an accident (work accident, not car accident), so he filled out an insurance claim. The insurance company contacted him and asked for more information.

This was his response: "I am writing in response to your request for additional information for block number 3 of the accident reporting form. I put "poor planning" as the cause of my accident. You said in your letter that I should explain more fully and I trust the following detail will be sufficient. I am an amateur radio operator and on the day of the accident, I was working alone on the top section of my new 80 foot tower.

"When I had completed my work, I discovered that I had, over the course of several trips up the tower, brought up about 300 pounds of tools and spare hardware. Rather than carry the now un-needed tools and material down by hand, I decided to lower the items down in a small barrel by using a pulley, which was fortunately attached to the gin pole at the top of the tower.

"Securing the rope at ground level, I went to the top of the tower and loaded the tools and material into the barrel. Then I went back to the ground and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the 300 pounds of tools. You will note in block number 11 of the accident reporting form that I weigh only 155 pounds. Due to my surprise of being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rather rapid rate of speed up the side of the tower.

"In the vicinity of the 40 foot level, I met the barrel coming down. This explains my fractured skull and broken collarbone. Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were knuckle deep into the pulley. Fortunately, by this time, I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold onto the rope in spite of my pain. At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of tools hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Devoid of the weight of the tools, the barrel now weighed approximately 20 pounds.

"I refer you again to my weight in block number 11. As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent down the side of the tower. In the vicinity of the 40 foot level, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, and the lacerations of my legs and lower body. The encounter with the barrel slowed me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell onto the pile of tools and, fortunately, only three vertebrae were cracked.

"I am sorry to report, however, that as I lay there on the tools, in pain, unable to stand and watching the empty barrel 80 feet above me, I again lost my presence of mind. I let go of the rope..."

Urban Myth
There was a fire in a forest near an ocean, and they had those bitchin' helicopters scooping up water from the ocean and dumping it on the fire. After the fire was extinguished, they went into the area and found a guy in full scuba gear, totally charred, hanging in a tree. Turns out he had been scooped up in the helicopter's water scooper while he was scuba diving, and was dropped on the fire.

Shitty way to die, if you ask me.

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