Monthly Archives: May 2008

The Phantom Ring

Back in October I made the mistake of reading an article that described excessive cell phone users feeling “phantom vibrations” from the place on their belt, pocket or, in females and only 2% of males, pocketbook. I thought nothing of it at the time when, frankly, I hardly spoke for more than five minutes a day. But now that I manage a healthy workload through cell phone use and have certainly taken a boost in my social life (over 2 friends) the phone tends to ring regularly.

With that said, either I’m losing my mind, or I swear my phone is ringing.

Amazingly, in some of these instances I don’t even have my phone on me.

Take for example my venture to the gym earlier this week. Unlike most people at the gym, I refuse to talk on a bluetooth (or even own one for that matter). I’m at the gym for an hour and in the span of that hour I want to detach myself from everything outside those doors. For lack of better understanding, it’s an escape.

But the phantom phone is still with me. Stomach crunches – phone rings. Biking – the phone rings. Benching – the phone rings. I think you get the picture by now.

This is both aggravating and nerve racking at the same time. Am I losing my mind? Am I having a stroke?

It’s not just in the absence of my phone either. I’m not one for belt clips, bluetooths (aforementioned) or any style of ‘wearing’ a phone. I literally put it in my pocket and head out the door.

For a guy, carrying the phone in your pocket puts it uncomfortably close to the ‘franks n beans.’ This isn’t planned, nor is it the reason why I detest belt clips (lie), but the sheer modeling flaw in pants; or at least pants for guys over six-feet tall, is that the pockets are awkwardly deep. Now when I have my phone actually on me, I get even more concerned when I feel it ringing its phantom ring. Is something wrong with my junk? Do I have a kickball-sized tumor on my sac?

I suppose the logical solution to delay my eminent journey into the world of utter insanity would be to simply turn the ringer on. But that only works in theory; I never hear my phone ring. So perhaps keeping this stellar piece of technology resting on my change purse, pulsating and vibrating only when someone wants my attention is the only logical solution.

If only women would do the same in crowded bars.


I’m So Going To Friend Exxon on Facebook!

I have found myself, yet again, losing faith in humanity. And surprise, surprise, it’s because of something I’ve found on Facebook!

Members of the popular social-networking community believe that oil industry giant Exxon will be giving away one free gallon of gasoline for its patrons on June 1st, in an effort to give a little something back to the community it has been so accustomed to raping. An online event allegedly hosted by the gas powerhouse has found its way to 6,410 Facebook profiles. However, those eagerly clicking too fast to save that $4.00 may be setting themselves up for disappointment, as further investigation into the event shows the event creator as Rutgers student Luis Piloto, who apparently is a professional cabinet surfer, when not committing crimes of e-douche-baggery:

some facebook dude

This display of Facebook deception that screams, “I have no friends” isn’t the most troubling finding. What comes as the biggest shock is that as of 8:10 PM today, over 2,000 users of Facebook have RSVP’d to the event’s invitation, a movement so mind-numbingly sad, that is only rivaled by the droves camping out for Harry Potter books. I’ve come up with two explanations. Either our fellow Facebook’ers have become so devoid of reality that they will believe anything that only requires them to single mouse click (let’s face it: a double click would be asking much). Or, out of some backfiring fluke of technology, the 2,000+ user count lost power to their scroll wheel usage SIMUTANIOUSLY!

Which ever the case may be, it’s clear to see that progressive online movements on Facebook, such as “I will donate imaginary money to Darfur“, or “Bringing Sexy Back“, will never die. No matter how badly we may want them to.

After the jump, read some of my favorite talking points found from the event’s discussion wall:

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Take This, All Of You, And Eat It…

Here’s another thing a lot of people don’t know about me. I’m actually not that bad of a cook. Now, I don’t particularly enjoy cooking — particularly if I have to do it regularly — but every once in a while, given the chance, I’ll venture into the kitchen and make myself dinner.

My first real exposure to cooking regularly was in college when I felt obligated to use the best freaking kitchen I’d ever seen while staying in an off-campus apartment. I would regularly make dinner for myself, which would generally consist of some form of chicken breast, ground beef or ramen noodles (because I was poor, you see).

Rarely did I venture out of this comfort zone. Oh sure, I tried to make pancakes a couple different times — I had to get creative both times thanks to a lack of vegetable oil, butter, a pan and a spatula the first time and an absence of… what’s the opposite of rotten? … eggs the second — but I was rarely awake early enough for that to become an issue (or a skill).

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Disappointing Country Music Fans, One Search at a Time

In an attempt to stay somewhat on-top of this blog as a legitimate vessel of my ego, I’ve been checking stats from time to time. First off : thank you to anyone reading thus far. Usually, I have to spew profanities left and right before getting any sort of response.

Interestingly enough, it turns out general term searching has driven some traffic to RHSP. Awesome news, no?

However, for one unlucky Kenny Chesney fan, their hopes of learning about the all-star line up on a May 28th concert have been brutally dashed to bits:

Search Views
kenny chesney+kid rock may 28th 1

So to said fan, we extend our most (in)sincerest apologies. We can only hope that the brilliant songwriters that have penned such insightful lyrics as “I won’t let evolution gonna make a monkey out of me /Oh Lord, I think I want my rib back.”, and “And we were trying different things, we were smoking funny things” will not let down nearly as bad as we have.

Playlist: Early Weekend Kick-Off

The best thing about our company’s move downtown commencing today: work productivity expectations are at an all time low. So while I sit hear anxiously awaiting our 2:30 bell to ring, check out this Early Weekend Kick-Off mix, that I personally hand-picked … with the assistance of my phone’s shuffle playback.

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Read about featured artists, Rilo Kiley and The Kooks, after the jump:
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Breaking Down the Suck that is Kid Rock’s Music

Growing up, I’ve always been critical of people’s taste in music. I think it does give an indication of your personality, because you connect to what you listen to. You are actively choosing to relate to that song, or be in tune with the melody … unless, of course, you’re a musically devoid cretin who only listens to Top-40 pop anthems that say nothing of its creativity, nor anything positive of that artist either.

So, while I slowly pick up this newspaper and cover a pile of my 6th grade Backstreet Boys and MC Hammer CDs that sit on my desk, I realize that at some point, we’re all guilty of listening to some sort of bad music.

But, I cannot give anyone a legitimate pass on Kid Rock.

And neither can Cracked who breaks down every instance of suck in Kid’s new song, which painfully pays homage to his humble “country-esque” upbringing in none other than the most hill-billy bumkin place .. North Michigan.

More commentary after the jump …
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The Office…san

Ricky Gervais is just one of the very few life preservers SNL has used to stay afloat. Samberg’s Digital Shorts are usually a stoner’s paradise, but this one was another “Dick in a Box”-esque diamond in the rough. I’m sure there will be another “things about Andy Samberg I cannot stand” type post will happen in the near future. But until then, take a look.

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