And the Jews Stand Behind It!

I had an awesome e-mail show up in my spam filter today.

From: Hightower Ezra
Subject: They are lying you every day

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I'd like to show you the web-site about financial pyramid! Take a look, how people get dumbed by System. And the jews stand behind it! Look!! It's true!!!

http://piramidam.net/

Not That There’s Anything Wrong With That

Setting: a dual occupant bachelor pad. Dave is sitting on a couch, intently playing a video game. Behind him Rob enters from outside.

Dave: (Not bothering to look away from his game) Hey, Dude. How was the movie?

Rob: (Distracted) It was—it was okay. Creepy.

Dave: Creepy, huh? Not scary?

Rob: No.

Dave: (Finally looks back) Did the hot chick at least live?

Rob: Naw.

Dave: Bummer. (Returns to game.)

Rob, still seeming a bit out of it, makes his way over to the couch and sits next to Dave.

Dave: (Still playing) So, uh, how’s it going?

Rob: Fine. It’s going fine.

Dave: And, how’s Jeff doing?

Rob: Well, he’s, uh, he’s doing good.

Dave: You don’t sound too sure.

Rob: No. He’s fine. He’s doing just fine. He’s do–Is Jeff gay?

Dave: (Finally turns his attention away from the game.) What?

Rob: Jeff. Is he, you know, gay?

Dave: I don’t know. Why?

Rob: No reason. Forget I asked. ‘Night.

Rob gets up to leave.

Dave: Whoa. You do not come home and ask if the dude you went to see a movie alone with is gay and then go to bed. Sit.

Rob sits back down.

Dave: What happened? Why do you think Jeff’s gay? Did he hit on you or something?

Rob: No. He just…it was just a bit weird, and—Look I don’t want to make a big deal out of this.

Dave: Weird how?

Rob: I don’t know. The whole situation was weird. You remember the barbecue we had last month that he came to?

Dave: Yeah. Sharon brought him. They’re friends. He tags along with her sometimes.

Rob: Right. And when he was over here, he asked for my e-mail address. He said that maybe we could hang out, and I said sure and gave it to him. And then he e-mailed me with his phone number, and I gave him my phone number. And then he called me yesterday about the free movie tickets he’d won and wanted to know if I’d like to hang out.

Dave: Sounds harmless. Maybe he just wants to be friends.

Rob: And maybe “hook up” is some kind of gay code word that means go out on a date.

Dave: I think you’re being paranoid. I mean, did he flirt with you at all?

Rob: That’s just it. I don’t know. I can’t even tell if a girl is flirting with me, let alone if a guy is. As far as I can tell, no one has ever flirted with me in my entire life, and that just doesn’t seem statistically possible, does it? I mean, a girl has had to have flirted with me by now, right?

Dave: I guess so. Look, why don’t we just call Sharon. She’s friends with him. She’d know.

Rob: No.

Dave: Why not?

Rob: Because she’d tell him. She’s better friends with him then with us, and she would totally tell him. And then if he’s not gay, it will be this big thing, and he’ll get upset, and Sharon’ll get upset, and then there will be all this drama.

Dave: Dude, he won’t get upset.

Rob: Really? If someone called up Alice or Erik or even me and asked if you were gay, and you found out about it, how would you feel?

Dave: Point taken. (Sits thinking for a moment.) Okay, so let’s dissect what happened tonight and see if it was a date or not. Did he pay for your ticket?

Rob: Yes and no. He won them, remember?

Dave: Right. Well, did he get you any popcorn or anything?

Rob: No.

Dave: Good. Good. And who picked where you sat?

Rob: I did. He insisted that I pick the seat.

Dave: Huh. Did you go anywhere after the movie? Grab a bite to eat maybe?

Rob: No. He asked if I wanted to, but I said that I ate before I got there.

Dave: And did you talk outside of the theater for long.

Rob: No…(reluctantly) but he did walk me to my car.

Dave: He what?

Rob: (Slowly, shamefully) Walked with me to my car.

Dave: How far?

Rob: Two blocks...in the opposite direction of his car.

Dave: And what did he say when he was walking with you to your car?

Rob: We just talked about the movie.

Dave: And what happened when you got to the car?

Rob: Nothing. I just said goodnight, got in my car and left.

Dave: He didn’t try to kiss you?

Rob: No. I think that I would know if he was gay if he tried to kiss me. He just said it was fun and that I should give him a call if I’m not busy, and then he left…(Again, reluctantly) and then he texted me on the drive home…twice.

Dave: (Sits, thinking for a moment.) I don’t know, dude. That’s a whole bunch of mixed signals. He’s either gay, or he is really awkward around other guys.

Rob: Worse than me?

Dave: Totally.

Rob: Great, so either I just went out on a gay date or I met someone more socially incompetent than I am. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Dave: Ah, don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal.

Rob: But that’s just it. It is a big deal. Do you know how many women I’ve gone out with in my life? Two. That’s less than one a decade. If that was a gay date, that means that 33 percent of my dating career has been with a guy. I can’t even get chicks to be interested in me, and now for some reason I’ve got guys digging me.

Dave: Maybe you’re gay, dude. (Laughs)

Rob: No, laugh. Make it a joke. But that’s just it -- maybe I am gay. I don’t seem to be having any luck with the women, so maybe that’s because I’m not supposed to be. I mean, I’m not really all that masculine. I suck at sports – I don’t even like watching them. I don’t go hunting or shoot guns. I don’t know anything about cars. I’ve never been in a fight, and I don’t drink beer. What kind of a man am I?

Dave: Do you need a hug?...but not a gay one?

Rob: Laugh all you want, but my guyness is in crisis here. (Puts head in hands.) I just don’t know who I am anymore.

Dave: Alright, alright. Calm down. Dude, you’re just not the kind of guy that they make beer commercials about, but you’re still a guy. So you don’t fit the mold exactly, who does? Look, you think that you might be gay, right?

Rob: Yeah.

Dave: Well then here’s a simple test – have you ever been attracted to another guy?

Rob: (Thinks a moment.) No.

Dave: And who would you rather date, Natalie Portman or Keira Knightley?

Rob: Can’t I date them both?

Dave: See? You’re not gay. You’re just a wimp – there’s a difference…and that difference is liking other men's penises. (Shooing Rob away) Now go to bed and dream of beautiful women and you’re inadequacies.

Rob gets up and walks toward his bedroom.

Rob: Thanks, man.

Dave: Don’t mention it. It’s what bros do.

Take This Interweb and Shove It

For the past several months I have been boycotting the Internet to pay it back for the wrongs that it has propagated against me (and by boycott I mean exclusively using it to download porn, gamble and stalk victims...I mean girlfriends...and I don't mean stalk, I mean...um...talk to?). Where was I? Oh yes, I was wronged - by the Internet no less. You see, I had been participating in this whole Web 2.0 fad, blogging and myspacing and the like. I had also begun to use twitter, posting my witty comments in 140 characters or less.

Well in addition to my more "traditional" Twitter usage, I had also been using it for a more "creative" exercise. I had been maintaining a Twitter presence under the guise of Victor von Doom, monarch of Latveria, viewing my daily experiences through his eyes. The idea had come to me after I had completed this blog entry, where I reviewed the second Fantastic Four movie from his perspective. I rather enjoyed shrouding myself in the voice of Dr. Doom, and quickly abandoned posting anything to my Venting Plasma account in favor of VonDoom.

Unfortunately, last summer, Marvel apparently became aware of Twitter and began employing it for guerrilla marketing...mainly to prevent the rise of communist marketing in South America. After they had established a couple of Skrull-themed twitter accounts to promote their Secret Invasion event, they apparently became aware of my account, and I was promptly served with the online equivalent of a cease and desist order. I was told that I was in violation of the Terms of Use, both committing copyright infringement and impersonation. And the name of my twitter account was changed to VonDoom Fan, which was pretty lame. (Of course, I should probably be happy that they didn't change it to something really crappy like I'm Super Gay for Dr. Doom...of course, now that you mention it, that might be fun to write...oh you did so mention it. We all heard you. Why must you always lie, you lying harlot? I hate you! You always ruin everything!)

Where was I? Oh yes, VonDoom Fan. Well that ID is pretty lame and undermines everything I was trying to do with the account, and I refuse to have my artistic vision compromised. So I stopped posting to VonDoom...Fan.

Now since I am a hardcore Marvel fanboy and unwilling to show any anger toward the big M, I chose to take out my frustration on the World Wide Web. I decided that I would no longer participate in the Internet until I feel it had been sufficiently chagrined for this affront, and so I began a self-imposed exile that I am now lifting.

Yes, you may enjoy me once again.