truly

I propose the scrubbing of the word truly from the English language. Assuredly an indicator that whatever is being spoken is a platitude, or whomever is speaking it is insincere, its only distantly redeeming value is in sarcasm. When disfigured by frequent misspelling--truely--the thing culminates in a lexical ruin. For god's sake, it is time for a reprieve. Won't somebody think of the high school English teachers?

Proof of the misery foisted upon English-speakers by this burned-out word is further furnished in Truly Madly Deeply, by Savage Garden. (unhand that Fender Stratocaster, knave).

The only counterclaim I can offer is that "Yours Truly" happens to be one of my favorite sign-offs in written correspondence--so much so that I believe the moratorium will have to exclude all such instances. Otherwise, tighten up, punks. You know who you are.

Well at least he thinks.

Democratic Party chair and distant political memory Howard Dean told CNN on Friday that he doesn't "think that the party is going to implode" from dysfunction and general campaign messiness. Oh, he doesn't THINK the party is going to implode, does he? He doesn't think so? Neat!

g2k, Howard. Way to comfort the flock.

Tim Gunn: Tighten up your fashion, American slobs

In his sage advice for ballin' on a budget, Tim Gunn puts a little boot to some American backside. With 43 ticks left in the video clip, Timmy calls Americans out for being a nation of slobs, chastising those who choose comfort as their fashion guide. Although I rejoiced at the uppercut to dishevelment everywhere, my inner slob cried out at the blow. Look Tim, I like to wear sweatpants with a bowtie, is that a crime? So what if my Crocs clash with my sportcoat; who can really match Glen Plaid to Crocs' iridescent hues, anyway? My usual fashion choices aside, thanks for the wake up call, Tim Gunn. Next time, I think I'll check myself before I go out in a hoodie and top hat.

God damn it evil scientists.

Today, I witnessed one of the most awesomest bylines I have ever read, ever. I stopped by the NY Times today and saw that they were leading with this:

Other versions before publication:

"Two joes do their best to save world from malevolent brainiacs hellbent on starting up ravenous doomsday device. Can they do it? Can two schmoes save the world? First a message from BLAMO brand X-ray glasses -- BLAMO! Hey adolescent, want to look at naked chicks?"

"Area men wonder what you feed a giant particle accelerator. Earth? Fuck, let's not do that."

"Scientists once again loose sight of the grander scheme of things because they only focus on their nerd projects until those dumb projects start fucking stuff up and why do those people think they're so smart anyway, just cause they did good in school, fuck school, I could have been a scientist but then I realized that being a scientist totally sucks balls. HAHAHAHHA. Just look -- they were all having a nerd convention and guess what happened? -- A giant fucking earth eating machine, so here is the thing -- they think they are so smart, but it turns out they are fucking idiots cause we live on the earth and if it was eaten by the fucking accelerotomer then everything is eaten INCLUDING THE ACCELEROTOMER, haHAhaHA, scientists are totally fucking nerdtards.

I'm insecure."
----

I could go on forever. When did the Nytimes turn into the Weekly World News?

A moment of self reflection

So every now and then I stop by StatCounter.com to check out how the 'ol TUR is doing. Recently I stopped by and witnessed the following (emphasis added):

It really bothered me that we are not getting any visitors from the future. But then it struck me -- who am I to cast blame when it is clearly apparent then even future Flagil_Reinhumps refuses to stop by the site AT ANY MOMENT IN THE FUTURE (post time machine invention, of course)? Come on future me, tighten the fuck up. I mean sure, you get the time machine you might want to first smooch a dinosaur, strangle baby Hitler, then provide former self a sports almanac listing statistics through the year 2000 which leads directly to a post apocalyptic slum world, WITH HOVERBOARDS, so definitely worth it, in that order. But please, after counting my future billions, doing this that and the other thing, how about one lazy stroll back in time to pump up our statcounter? One super easy little 5 minute jaunt?

But I guess I already have my answer to those meager questions. I am so disappointed in you future Flagil. As futile as it may be, I'll say it again, tighten up, dear future crappy me. Tighten up!

Tightness under fire

Hillary Clinton is one badass mutha:

Doug? Tighten up, people.

Alright, so I just went downstairs to a sandwich shop to grab myself some lunch. The place is pretty packed, and I notice they opt for the personal customer service touch when your order is ready, i.e. they yell your name instead of giving you a number. Which is fine... except when you're me.

This sandwich shop also happens to give its menu items really ridiculous names. I ordered a chicken salad w/ bacon on Rye; they call this the "Young Republican." So you'll hear people's orders announced as such: "Joe, Democrat!" or "Susie, Young Republican!" The fact that I happen to prefer to eat the Young Republican sandwich, but would hardly consider myself one, is in itself enough to create lunchtime anxiety.

Anyhow, having dealt with name issues for some 20+ years now, I quickly think to myself, hmm, should I be 'Amy' today? What name's it gonna be? By the time I was placing my order though, I had nothing, so ... the lady writes down (in rather neat writing, mind you) P o u y.

I wait a few minutes and then I see what I think is my sandwich, upon which time another lady yells, "DOUG!! Young Republican!! DOUG!!"

Geezus. To think I was so happy when I saw that the "U" was written properly (did not look like a cursive "N"), so I'd easily dodge the ever-popular "Pony" reference (true story).

So there it was. Pouy had somehow translated into Doug. I quickly approach the counter and say, "Yeah. That's me. It's a P. My name is Pouy. Thanks." The nice and friendly lady looks at the order slip again, stares back up at me, tilts her head a little, and delivers her best apology: "I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry."

I smile politely, as if to say "You suck. Try a little harder next time. And change the names of the sandwiches on your stupid menu. Thanks, goodbye."

Historical Tighten: Pennsylvania Railroad

You tore this down, klutzes.

the lesser offenses of ticketmaster

I'm pretty sure that if Miranda Lambert was such a "country star," you might not need to put the words "country star" in front of her name.

When is the last time you saw similar billings:

Presale offer for pop icon Michael Jackson
Presale offer for comedy icon Lewis Black
Presale offer for terrible actor Cuba Gooding Jr.

I rest my case. Tighten, Ticketmaster.

A word of caution

Cuba ain't taking this shit any more.

Becca, as usual, in need of tightening

At dinner on Saturday night, Becca's poor chopstick skills resulted in a large piece of Hunan Beef falling into her poor, beleaguered fiancee, Pepper's, water glass. See evidence...

Tighten that up Becca...

Tighten up, Peeps

Just tell us what we want to know

State Department Must Tighten

Come on, slackers. This one was a lob. Tighten!

Walter Meego: tight beats, untaught ninjas

Word from SXSW was that the Walter Meego show was tighter than Miss Spitzer's no sex lock down on Elliot. Checking out the video, I can see how the mad beats indeed make nice. However, no hot hipster chick is worth de-masking, if one is to abide by the code of the ninja. I think they realize this in the end, however it is a good lesson for us to all abide: true ninjas should never kiss girls from Williamsburg.

Brenda Throw-Myself-Down-The-Stairs Starr

Though I'm decidedly pro-choice, this is pretty tight:

A Senate candidate in Idaho has legally changed his name to Pro-Life.

Marvin Pro-Life Richardson "was denied the use of his middle name when he ran unsuccessfully for governor in 2006 because the state's policy bars the use of slogans on the ballot. Now, though, officials in the Idaho secretary of state's office say they have no choice because Pro-Life is his full and only name."


The tightness stops there, however:

"He says he will run for the highest state office on the ballot every two years for the rest of his life, advocating murder charges for doctors who perform abortions and for women who obtain the procedure."

Subarus. Not just for lesbians...who knew?

Those sunglasses. This car. What could be tighter than that?

Leftovers from the Tighten Up party

On Sunday night, the DC contingent of the Tighten Up Report had a party. It was, if I may, very very taught. Except that these sunglasses were left at my house by some partygoer. Tighten up whoever owns these! They're mine now!

And then it was tight

Since moving to New York City less than two years ago, I've relied on New York Magazine's confusing online sprawl for everything from shoeing myself like une parisienne à l'étranger (French Sole, 985 Lexington) to ordering Sunday brunch delivery in a barely audible, post-martini hiss (Kitchenette Uptown, 1272 Amsterdam). But it was sometime around Fashion Week last fall, as I wasted time navigating their clunky web bog of commentary and slideshows, that I took matters into my own hands and demanded (i.e. wrote a polite comment suggesting) that something be done about the untightness of online content organization.

Behold the re-designed homepage:



Function --> form. My touch --> golden. Sense of self --> overinflated. This post --> over.

Oscar Meyer and Mini Cooper Join Forces

In an effort to help out the enviroment, even the weinermobile is downsizing.

[insert joke here]

Pretty tight, right? its like the lil' smokie mobile (except I think Hillshire Farm made those).

The Sartorialist Reaches New Pinnacles of Tightness

Today, The Sartorialist published another photo from his recent trip to India.

When I saw it, I almost couldn't believe my eyes; apart from being a stunning image in its own right, it resembles one of my favorite illustrations by Maxfield Parrish. Crazy. Nice work, Mr. Schumann.

And yeah, I think Maxfield Parrish is pretty rad. Deal with it.

UPDATED: 6the Avenue Electronics TIGHTENS!

UPDATE: Defying all expectations, 6th Avenue Electronics delivered the headphones today--Wednesday--without so much as replying to my email or sending a shipping notification. I received no response to my inquiry other than having the product delivered exactly as I asked. Well tightened.

Tight-Nod Within A Tighten-Up-Update: The Grado SR-80s are, like, the headphones that God gave Jesus on his 18th birthday. Incredible. Go buy them now.



Taking a page from Jordan's playbook, I wrote the following email to 6the Avenue Electronics tonight. I hope it works.


Hiya,

On Sunday night I ordered some Grado SR-80 headphones from you guys. I'm super fired up. Order # -----.

I live in Manhattan, but I ordered them to be delivered by mail because I'm working straight through this week and can't leave my house, where I work. It sucks. I thought, they'll come by mail in a day, and it'll be great.

It's not great. Here's why:

It's Tuesday night and I still haven't gotten a notification that the order has even shipped. I called your customer service line today and was assured that they'd go out by tonight at the latest. It's 11:15pm. You have 45 minutes to make good on that promise. My money says you won't.

I could have unicycled to your storefront and back six times, backwards, blindfolded, and gotten them quicker than this. Except that I couldn't. Because I'm working. And unicycles are hard to ride backwards.

Please send me my headphones. I don't want an apology. I don't want an excuse. I don't want any customer service mumbo-jumbo. I just want my headphones. Please put them in a box and mail it to me. Maybe even walk it here. I'd really like to have them tomorrow. And by tomorrow I mean the tomorrow that will be here in 39 minutes. Wednesday. Please.

Pepper
order # -----

Part 2: Your civil disobedience is lame.

Blocking an intersection on K St., attacking a bus and tying up traffic. Way to go protesters - troops are totally coming home tomorrow.

CONGRESS ISN'T EVEN HERE!

Ok war protesters, I know this is an important day for you, it's been a long 5 years. While I can kind of understand your plight ... for the love of Christ WHY ARE YOU HERE THIS WEEK?
Let's do a little bit of homework - Congress is on recess.
Guess what? The guy in the big white house ... doesn't care what you have to say, he doesn't appreciate the time you put into your paper mache replica of him or the clever way you used his name on your sign.
I quote his deputy from ABC today:

Raddatz: "Two-third of Americans say it's not worth fighting."

Cheney, smiling: "So?"

Raddatz: "So? You don't care what the American people think?"

Cheney: "No. I think you cannot be blown off course by the fluctuations in the public-opinion polls. … There has, in fact, been fundamental change and transformation and improvement for the better. … That's a huge accomplishment."

Congress sorta cares sometimes ... but they are AT HOME. Where you, Johnny and Jane protester, live. So go. Visit them. Write a letter. Start a netroots campaign.
D.C. can't even VOTE ... our police force can barely handle Friday night in Adams Morgan let alone, your crazy ass trying to scale the iron fence at the White House for the 18th time.
So basically the only impact you have today is slowing my commute and causing my building to lock it's doors.
Tighten Up. Get a hobby that doesn't involve protesting.

Don't Blame Landmarks--Just Get Some Viagra

Staten Island developer John Grossi is suing the city for $10MM on the grounds that its designation of the dilapidated 1869 Bedell House as a landmark--which he bought with the intention of demolishing and replacing with townhouses--has stuck him with a money pit that he can't sell, leaving him physically drained and unable to fulfill his husbandly duties.

Something tells me that he could fix that problem with Viagra; what a pill won't fix is the $5,500 a month mortgage payment he has on an 11% sub-prime loan. Unless, of course, it's a cyanide pill. His wife is seeking an additional $2MM.

Grossi, it's time to tighten. It's rough that your property value was yanked out from underneath you, but don't blame your plumbing problems on public policy.

original story at NYDaily news
more at gothamist

Robot girls are tight but not as tight as small dogs...

I bring you this gem in honor of Cooper the small dog. 'Smalls' is tight and he is a wonder. He attacks hippies seeking refreshment at Teaism. What do you thnk he'd do to a basset hound killer? Watch out Fernandez. Smalls is loco!

Lighten the Tighten

In an attempt to get the last post out of my head and bring my boiling anger to a simmer, I offer you this video. 'Out of this World' was a tight show. Did that help? No. Me neither. I still want to go all Kathy Bates in Misery on that jackass! Ugh. Back to YouTube...

Concerned Basset Owners for Tightness

I'm typing this post with one hand covering my mouth because the idea of (hand is off mouth now, typing becoming too slow) someone taking an ax to a basset hound's head as a way of dealing with the said basset's barking is disgusting. It also leads to the asking of those rhetorical questions ("But who would..."/"What kind of person..."/"How can you...") that inevitably leave one with an exhausted, negative attitude vis-a-vis one's fellow humans. Because, seriously: how untight do you have to be?

I Return to Signage

What can I say? I was enraged.

Or perhaps it was the floral shop in Front Royal advertising "Baskets and Bokays"

yup.

When Looseness Turns Fatal.

Please stop hiring construction firms with terrible safety records to use dangerous machinery while building large buildings many stories above pedestrians. I don't want to have to start looking above me while walking down the street, in addition to watching out for errant cabs and dog crap that people didn't pick up. It is seriously turning into a three dimensional game of Frogger around here. Reset, however, is not an option when crushed by a 50 ton crane.

Tighten Up Now!

Shame on the NY Times

What happens when you hire a partisan hack, ersatz journalist, and world-historically bad prognosticator in the name of editorial "balance?" Well, when you're not reduced to publishing 800-words of inane drivel thumbed into a blackberry from a Sunday night soiree at Henry Kissinger's house (btw, Tighten Uppers throw better parties than right wing blowhards), you're stuck with breathtakingly inaccurate, hyperventilating accusations about somebody's patriotism that hinge on thinly-sourced gruel from the venerable publishing institution that is Newsmax.com.

I'm referring to the now-discredited column by Bill Kristol in today's Times which states, citing Newsmax as a source, that (via. Marc Ambider):

But Ronald Kessler, a journalist who has written about Wright’s ministry, claims that Obama was in fact in the pews at Trinity last July 22. That’s when Wright blamed the “arrogance” of the “United States of White America” for much of the world’s suffering, especially the oppression of blacks. In any case, given the apparent frequency of such statements in Wright’s preaching and their centrality to his worldview, the pretense that over all these years Obama had no idea that Wright was saying such things is hard to sustain.

This is, of course, demonstrably false, thus undermining the entire point of Kristol's inane column. Obama was travelling to Miami when this speech was made. Hey Bill Keller, nice hire! You could have enriched your readers with any one of dozens of credible conservative commentators, and you had to go hire the biggest hack in the entire media landscape. Tighten up, buddy.

Bonus upside: I can't wait for the paper's right-wing critics to lambast their editorial page for their lax journalistic integrity and call for Kristol's resignation.

Copyright and tightness violation

Whoever is the most lawyerly among us should threaten to sue Titan Insurance for both copyright infringement and aggravated laxity in web design. See Exhibit A, a screenshot of the defendant's website, above. I didn't just crop the page on the right, either. That's what the horrible misuse of CSS positioning does to the links.

We must protect the Tighten Up©® brand, through aggressive litigation if necessary.

So You Think You Can Dance (Tightly)?

May I suggest that 'The Wrenchmen' master this dance and take this show on the road?

When 'Tightening Up' Goes Terribly Wrong...

I'm all for tightening up loose skin to shed a few years. Heck, my parents basically fed me Botox flavored Gerber's as a baby but really, Priscilla? Her face makes we wonder if this site should include a disclaimer. I don't want to be responsible for anything this tight.

Just take my money USPS.

Ok, so I go to the post office to ship a book to California. It comes to like $5 and change so I hand my credit card to the guy behind the counter. About 1 in 10 people check the little signature box, he did, it looks like this:
In anticipation, I made the attempt to get out my driver's license. No dice. According to USPS policy, only signed credit cards can be used. I tried to explain how photo identification was a much higher standard than a randomly scrawled signature. The gentleman was immune to reason.

Q: Can I just sign the card now?
A: No.

Q: Could I leave, sign the card and come back?
A: Yes.

Q: Isn't my signature on my license?
A: Yes.
Q: Does that count?
A: No.

Q: Wouldn't I be the most meticulous, awesomely prepared criminal if I stole a random individual's credit card and then subsequently changed every form of identification in my entire wallet?
A: Bud, thems the rules, I just work here.

Q: Hypothetically speaking, if this credit card is stolen, don't you think you have fulfilled your duty by asking for extra identification?
A: ........

Q: If this thing is stolen don't you think I would be like LOADING UP on sweet ass "Year of the Rat" stamps.
A: .........

Q: Or some FOX SUPREME Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings (with lickable adhesive, please)
Look at her, she is like RIDICULOUSLY super rabid foxy and she is going to fucking DEVOUR that deer.

I'd be buying ALL OF THOSE if this credit card was stolen.

A: This part of the conversation never happened.

And then a wolf jumped on the counter and howled really spooky. But then there was a bunch of smoke and the wolf was a dracula. Yipes!

Look out wolf dracula! You're no match for Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings.

Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings beat the shit out of wolfy dracula in like 2 SECONDS and then we frenched but wolfy dracula was made of dynamite and everything exploded.

the end.

The tightest conversation of my week

Me (at the office doing my daily, 6 a.m. newspaper search): I am shocked--shocked!

Becca (replying to my email -- but addressing Pepper): that was hilarious. I felt like I was right there with him spitting on me.

Me: if we are going to enjoy the fruits of the glover embassy parties, we should all at least acknowledge the ethical quandaries they present... no?

Pepper: You mean eating delicious treats and sushis financed by the fruits of Ashcroft's labor and connections? I see no ethical quandries [sic -- tighten-up pepper, seriously; gmail has auto spellcheck for gods' sake] in such treats.

Me: i agree we shouldn't bring delicious treats into this. nothing so delicious deserves such scrutiny. (they may threaten to revoke their deliciousness, after all.) the sushis, however, are on my list....

but if we take a serious look at your criticism: i don't question ashcroft's labor, or his connections -- only when those connections subvert a fair, free-market bidding process irrespective of and provide under-the-table favors forged during his time in elected office.

Pepper: I saw a sashimi wearing a wire once. it was wireless and the battery was concealed in the rice mattress.

Me: "rice mattress" is the most delicious thing i've heard all week.

Pepper: i was pretty shocked at how delicious it ended up sounding. imagine at full scale, like...california king

Me: i would furnish my rice mattress with fruit-roll-up sheets, peep pillows, and a hot-pocket comforter.

btw, as long as i'm being an ornery, uppity TUer T-upper, here's my comment on your recent TUR post.

Becca: I think that Taco Bell is fine. Pepper's a big whiney [insert TUR card here] academic.

Pepper: Wow darling, thanks for backing me up! And Bones Bone donor, I appreciate the compliment.

But seriously, it really doesn't matter that it looks beatiful [insert TUR card here] --that's not the point at all. I'm all for more beautiful taco bells. the point is, if we craft a public policy that derives its legitimacy from the importance of protecting a certain thing, we can't allow the administration of that public policy to trivialize the very thing that is in the public's interest to protect.

maybe, as far as most people are concerned, "better is better", and the pretty taco bell is a good thing. fine. but if i have to take a theoretical look at why we craft public policy, and examine its methods and outcomes, i cannot back down from criticizing misplaced attempts at exercising the policy.

Becca: I smell.


Ok, that last entry was false*, but the rest was verbatim.


*The author, that is -- not the fact that Becca smells.

Starbuck's, you should have closed for three hours.

The text below was sent to me by a soon to be contributor Erin and I think she has a point. I mean you work around coffee all freaking day how can you possibly be moving slowly?

"Why is it that baristas at coffee shops these days are all stoners and take fing forever to make you coffee?
I was griping about it this morning and then told that Starbucks shut down for two hours this week or last to re-train its employees nationwide. Because they all fing suck now. And the places trying to compete with them are worse. grr"

More Radical Guitar Solos, Please

The modern pop music establishment needs to tighten up and provide more radical guitar solos for our listening enjoyment. I'm sick of turning on the radio and hearing lame-o wussified tunes with no heart.

I want to hear more shredding that sounds like the following:

• guts pouring out of skeletons' mouths
• demons tap-dancing on the damned with golf spikes
• hurricanes ripping through purgatory
• a wolverine fighting with a dozen jackals
• biohazardous materials catching fire during an earthquake
• ninjas clashing on mountaintops
• tea curtling because you put in milk and lemon
  

Yngwie Malmsteen, world-famous shredder, demonstrates the kind of thing I'm after in the following video. Get to it, John Mayer. You can play like Stevie Ray Vaughan and I know it, so tighten!

Spring Millinery Decidedly Unfashionable

Dear Matthews' Sons,

Despite best efforts, your Spring Millinery is unfashionable. I have a feeling that your Spring Fancies, Novelties, and Women's Suits are equally outmoded. Please to tighten and give the ladies what they want.

Gross.

OMG go here.

Democratic Majority ... tighten up.

Nancy, we need to talk. Not about anything you are doing really as Speaker of the House, but more about what you are doing to the Capitol Carry Out. Most of the food is better and the fact that the forks are made of recycled corn syrup warms my heart... but seriously... fruit on the bottom yogurt is disgusting. I understand that it's cage free, organic and probably made in a fair trade rain forest, but it has also ruined my morning because it is vile.
Bring back Dannon peach yogurt and tighten up.

Amish Swimwear!?!??

Courtesy of Nikki.
No way. You guys have got to check this out. It's not actually amish swimwear, but it could be. Here is a picture of ONE of the MANY STYLES.

Ladies, swimsuits are supposed to be tight. Tighten up swimsuits!

From the WTF department,

CNN.com: WICHITA, Kansas (AP) -- A 35-year-old woman who sat on her boyfriend's toilet for so long [2 years!!] that her body was stuck to the seat had a phobia about leaving the bathroom, the boyfriend said....

"She was not glued. She was not tied. She was just physically stuck by her body... It is hard to imagine... I still have a hard time imagining it myself."

Pam Babcock and that toilet seat were TIGHT!

I just thought of a tight prank

After Spitzer finally leaves office, the judge at the swearing-in ceremony for David Paterson (who is legally blind) should secretly switch out the Bible with a Koran.

He's coming for your kids

So Mandy and I were at B&N and we stumbled across the following:


















Pretty spooky.

Another SkyMall Tighten Up...

Here is another product I found in SkyMall that needs to tighten up. Read the line that says "The last generator you'll ever need!". This is hilarious and very Simpsons-esque. I can see the informercial now... (Star Wipe)
"Are you tired of all your old generators taking up valuable room in your house? Do you have over 20 generators and none of them work right? Do you live in every day fear that terrorists are going to set fire to the nearest city (which is probably Birmingham Alabama at 2.5 hours away) leaving your family without power? Well, throw out all of those old generators because this is the LAST ONE YOU WILL EVER NEED!!!!!!" Pans to audience of crazies clapping wildly. My dad says "I'LL TAKE 20!"

BREAKING NEWS: Macworld wins 15 Pulitzers, daytime emmy, and beauty competition!!

Macworld keeps trying to get me to renew the free subscription I got when I bought my new computer. Fat chance. Macworld is nothing more than 125 pages of monthly Mac propaganda. Check out some of these headlines and graphics from the new issue:

"OSX 10.5.2 Comes as Welcome News: Leopard update shows that Apple listens to users."

WOW! Thanks, Dan Frakes! What a hard-hitting story!

....now you're fired. Didn't Steve Jobs tell you to maintain at least a thin veil of credibility over your bare-faced pandering? Or does he just let you run with it?

"Is the iPod Slipping? Slow growth doesn't tell the whole story."

The iPod? Slipping?! Perhaps there's more here that I can't learn from sales figures alone!



81% of Leopard users are "very satisfied" while only 51% of XP users--and 27% of Vista Home users--are satisfied? What a superior product this must be!




And it's not just pro-Mac drivel. There's also plenty of anti-Microsoft bombs:
"Considering how ugly Office 2008 looks, I will never upgrade. Office 2004 works just fine."
...
"User Discovers Office 2008 Problems: Microsoft promises fixes for installation issues."

Boy am I glad I have a mac, hillstones! Those guys are Microsoft are a bunch of clowns!

Macworld is as credible as a Chinese newspaper around about 1955..."Survey reports peasants are happier than ever!" Give me a break. Just tell me about the 100 great keyboard shortcuts you figured out and save the other 124 pages for a real magazine. I hear American Gentrifier is looking to expand.

Orwell's Rules

A helpful guide for tightening your English prose:

1. Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.

2. Never us a long word where a short one will do.

3. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.

4. Never use the passive where you can use the active.

5. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.

6. Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

South Park has taught me to ignore the last one, but the others are pretty indispensable.

The Shoe Post Redux

Achtung, untight things: I am super sleuthy today. After some lite web research, it appears that the people responsible for the Performance Running Sandals brought to our attention by Becca, i.e. Bite Shoes, are naturally part of the Croc family o' scary comfort footwear. Behold the proof pudding:



Seriously, though, three separate product lines of Crocs? Market share greedy much?
I should note that the chefs I knew while working as a waitress in my halcyon DC days loved them some Crocs. I should also note that the chefs in question wore naught but black Crocs as part of the standard-yet-goofy chef's ensemble with a strictly functional raison d'etre. With that said, there is nothing I hate more (NOTHING, I SAY) than people who go around making ugly things trendy by setting themselves apart with the comfort thing, thus reinforcing the narrow concept that fashion by its cruel nature always = pain. False! Those people must tighten.

Meanwhile, back on the ranch of superior alternatives:



Witness Camper. Trust the Spanish. As my mother always says, if the shoe you've got in your hand at the store doesn't say Italy or Spain on it, put it down, and walk away.

Auf Wiedersehen, pets.

Proposed Mascot: Discuss

If you invented these things...

If you are the inventor who created these heinous sandal running shoes, you need to tighten up! I can think of a million reasons why these are a bad idea. Can you imagine all the shit you'd get in your toes and feet? Tiny pebbles, etc? Ouch! Tighten up, Mr. Inventor! Sky Mall, you should know better. I depend on you for hilarious products that entertain me in flight. These are funny to look at, but that's it! Do a better job!

SNL: Tight Again or Hot Mess?

I say tic-it-t-tac trannylicious. Thanks for the laughs Brenda!

Mondays Need More Rodrigo y Gabriela

Ruh-roh...

Hey, Spitzer: don't do that.

The anti-contextualist manifesto.

I make no apologies for the length of this post. Tighten up, Taco Bell.
Franchise restaurants certainly present numerous challenges to communities, and it is a considerable victory for localities to be able to work with such businesses to craft designs that break with corporate stock examples in some degree. However, to craft a Taco Bell, for example, that resembles what might well be a local historic building type—particularly one that resembles a domestic structure—is a dangerous conceit. While it is unlikely that such a design would be taken for a an authentic period building that had been adapted for use as a restaurant, the greater the faithfulness of that Taco Bell’s design to identifiable local traditions, the greater the chance that the meaning of the original type be distorted and cheapened. James Fitch, founder of Columbia’s Historic Preservation program, wrote, “[e]ven when the mass production of the facsimile leaves the prototype unaltered and intact, mass distribution confronts it with another danger. Heedless repetition of the form ends by emptying it of emotional force: overfamiliarity reduces its cultural potency and ends by destroying its capacity to move us.”

The prototype being the original old structure and the facsimile being the Taco Bell, Fitch makes clear that contextualism or even compatibility taken too far has dangerous implications for our ability to relate to artifacts of the past. It does not matter that the Taco Bell might not be a literal replication of a specific local building. Rather, it is critical that an attempt to re-appropriate what are likely historically accurate or historically spirited design elements and crossing them with modern elements such as signage, doors, and even such subtle things as brick color and mortar composition commingle elements that never would have existed together in the prototype. Any potential accuracy in the facsimile is compromised by the question of how each individual element was designed, manufactured or constructed, and assembled. For Fitch, the scientific data contained in the prototype is confused with the speculation offered by the facsimile, and the observer—quite possibly ignorant of the information contained in the original—is left to sort out the question of meaning totally unequipped for the task. If design guidelines are to encourage or allow buildings that have this impact, they represent for the field of historic preservation an acute threat and must be tightened up.

PS: San Loco destroyed your Cheesy Gordita Crunch with its magnificent Queso Loco--which I'm sure uses meat above Grade R. Look out!

Get your own washing machine

It's Sunday, and that means laundry. So Jordan grabbed a pile of dirty linens and tossed them into one of the washing machines on our floor. When I went to transfer the laundry, both of the dryers were occupied, so I dropped them off upstairs. Skip forward an hour, when I'm walking back to our apartment with my arms full.

In front of me is a guy I've never seen before. He turns around to glance at me 3-4 times - very odd. He knocks on the apartment door across from ours, and when the door opens, a disembodied (female) voice asks sharply, "where are they?" The guy whispers, so as to not be conspicuous (nice try, jackass), "I think she's got them," tilting his head ever so slightly in my direction.

When I emptied the laundry bag onto our futon, what did I find but someone else's whites mixed in with our towels and sheets:



What. the. fuck.

We're not just talking about any-ol' whites. Someone had the audacity to mingle her nasty-ass, grotesquely pit-stained Juicy Couture blouse, socks, and cotton panties in with the towels we use to dry ourselves and the sheets upon which we sleep. Such an outrageous breach of etiquette neither Jordan nor I had ever encountered.

Use of a washer in our apartment costs $1.65. Dryers run $1.50. There are people in our building on public assistance, and presumably they're able to afford these modest sums. If not, maybe they use old-fashioned wash basins. Our neighbors, on the other hand, are yuppies. They can pay to wash their own clothes, and quite possibly dry clean them from time to time. What's more, when their arm pits render a white garment two shades darker than a cappuccino, they can probably afford to replace it.

I alerted Jordan to this act of malfeasance and asked what we should do. He immediately flew into a fit of spasmodic rage. "Are you joking? They're going down the trash chute." Pointing at the whites, he rhetorically asked, "What kind of sick fuckers would do that?" So, keeping our neighbor's befouled apparel at an arm's length, he dropped them into the garbage can.



We then went out to run errands and put the matter behind us, at least until the time came to draft this tighten up report. However, when we came home, we spotted a note taped to the laundry room wall:



Oh, Sarah. Don't do that. Don't compound your miserly, misanthropic misdeeds by lying about them. You've left us no choice, Sarah. We must deploy the dreaded tighten up card, scourge of laxity everywhere.



Sarah, you are delusional and in dire need of a tightening up.