From the desk of: Robert

A Complete Video History of My Dating Life

The Cooper’s Hill Cheese Rolling and Wake is an annual event held on the Spring Bank Holiday at Cooper’s Hill,[1], near Cheltenham and Gloucester in the Cotswolds region of England.[2] It is traditionally by and for the people of Brockworth – the local village, but now people from over the world take part. The event takes its name from the hill on which it occurs.

From the top of the hill a round of Double Gloucester cheese is rolled, and competitors race down the hill after it. The first person over the finish line at the bottom of the hill wins the cheese. In theory, competitors are aiming to catch the cheese, but since it has a one second head start and can reach speeds up to 70mph (112 km/h), enough to knock over and injure a spectator, this rarely occurs.

From Wikipedia (Via The Inquistr and The Big Picture)

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From the desk of: Robert

Howl Sweet It Is.

41glbyfzngl_ss500_1I accidentally spilled a glass of Tuscan Whole Milk down the front of this shirt, and my soul was torn from my body and thrown into heaven by a jealous God.

Amazon Customer Reviews for Three Wolf Moon T-Shirt

Sales of this shirt have increased by 2300% since internet humorists began competing for who could write the funniest review.  The Tuscan Whole Milk link is pretty boss, too.

From the desk of: Robert

In This Post We Are Mean Funny.

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In this photo, Kelly Clarkson looks like all of our ex-girlfriends… fat.  The reaction is a similar, “What happened?!”

Don’t take it too hard, Kel.  We’ll still call when we’re drunk and feeling alone.

(This post was probably better at Go Fug Yourself. They are always better.)

From the desk of: Robert

Sarcastigate at The Movies: The Girlfriend Experience

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Soderbergh > Soderbergh

Economy Allegory > Economy Apathy

Freedom Tickler > The Moldy Peaches

Grey > Blue

Rating: 9.2/10

From the desk of: Robert

Diesel Shoes Comment Card

sideb0001sm1Full Text/Card at The Consumerist

From the desk of: Robert

Sarcastigate At The Movies: Vicky Cristina Barcelona

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The grass over there > The grass right here.

The Direction (AMAZING.) > The Narration (AWFUL.)

Idealism > Materialism…. or is it?

Vickys’ > Cristinas’ (as a general rule.)

Javier Bardem >>>>>

Real Life < The Inherent Honesty of Every Character in This.

Rating: 8.9/10

From the desk of: Robert

Dawes Covers It A-Okay

I’ve recently been listening to a lot of Dawes.  You should be, too.  You know how much I love covers and this band?  When A Continuous Lean posted this video earlier today …. I knew I had to pass it along.

Wonder Years Troubadour from Evan Romoff on Vimeo.

From the desk of: Robert

Concert Regurge: Franz Ferdinand

Yeah, we go to some shows.  No, we don’t often feel the need to write about them.  Why, then, this time?  It just seems right.  That’s all.

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Franz Ferdinand drew in a near-capacity crowd to First Avenue on a dreary spring day.  My excitement was actually more piqued for the opener, Born Ruffians, than for the headliners — but no mind — Franz has always lived in my mind as a band that could bring a live-show worth shelling out a few duckets for.  My whiskey-stunk hands gladly handed the girl $30 and I was in.  Hello….   uhh…. hello, who?  Who were these people?

My first reaction was that every square within 100 miles decided it was a big night out in Minneapolis.  (Side-note… upon reflection I realize that I think of geeky guys as “squares” and geeky girls as “adorable.”  May help explain my reaction….)  The vibe?  The girl in the ’ship had been nagging that they “never do anything fun and/or cool” and this hopeless schlub decides that Franz Ferdinand would be the perfect show to impress his slumdog girlfriend by VISA’ing some surprise tickets.  They all had on their finest plaid and their freshest kicks.  Was I annoyed?  No.  My car had broken down on the way and I was just happy to be there.  Plus…  I was with good company and my eyes were slightly dull with Jim Beam.

The Born Ruffians were just as skinny and awkward and fantastic as I imagined.  The leads voice seemed significantly less whiny than on CD (which for some reason really dissapointed me) but they had good energy and I loved the idea of the bassplayer ending up with some 4th string groupie at the end of the night.  (Note to self: learn bass.)

I planted myself towards the front of the stage, my big tall head obscuring tons of sightlines and proceeded to watch FF set up.  The screen never came down which led to this conversation:

Me, Drunk and Loudly, With Incredible Amounts of Observation Intelligence: Hmm… I’ve never seen the screen not come down between acts… is this normal?

Girl, 19, sober as a church mouse: What?!  I’ve NEVER seen it come down between acts!

Girls Boy, 20, Abercrombie Beclothed: Yeah, dude… check your facts.  Screen stays up at this place.

MDLWIAOI: How many shows have you two been to here at First Avenue?

G1SACM: umm… like… 5

GB2AB: 3.

MDLWIAOI: Oh… go drown in a pool of your grandmas blood.  I’ve been here at least 200 times.  At least.

The point?  I was right.  These fools… wrong.  And because of that, I wouldn’t feel bad dancing my fat-ass all over their toes once the band came on.

And I did.  And it was great.  And unlike the eponymous Franz Ferdinand, this one didn’t strike me as the 1-Shot group I had expected.  They played a number of great songs, then Take Me Out and then another one… I have no idea of the names but the whole crowd went nuts, the band rocked out, and I felt the PASSION in that room.  Then they decided to slow it down… and I left.  They should have finished with the hit single, the next bonkers single and then walked off stage.  It would have been brilliant.  I would have left drunk, happy and satisfied that I got my $30 worth.   Oh wait… I did.

Completely meaningless score with no baseline or relativity: 9/B

From the desk of: Robert

I’m Considering Going Pro In Hunkerin’

This year marks the 50th anniversary of one of the greatest contributions by the state of Arkansas to the American way of life.

In 1959, fraternity brothers at the University of Arkansas were suffering from a shortage of chairs. In protest, they took to “hunkering,” or squatting.

From Ivy Style

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Before long, hunkerin’ had spread, firstly to Missouri, Mississippi and Oklahoma, thence across the rest of the country. While males were the predominant hunkers, it was reported that females hunkerers were welcomed.[3] Within months, regional hunkerin’ competitions were being held to discover champion hunkerers.[3]

Considered by authorities as much preferable to the craze of the previous year, phonebooth stuffing[3], people hunkered for hours at a time on car roofs, in phone booths and wherever people gathered.[2] Life referred to it as “sociable squatting”[4] Different styles of hunkerin’ were reported as “sophisticates” tended to hunker flatfooted while other hunkered with their elbows inside the knees.[3]

Reasons for the popularity of hunkerin’ included the ability for large groups of people to participate together peacefully to discuss issues such as politics or sport.[1] When asked about the popularity of hunkerin’, one hunkerer said hunkerin’ was

“A respite from a world of turmoil. The main purpose of hunkerin’ is to get down and hunker together. It’s a friendship thing: get your friends to hunker with you. The man you don’t know is the man you haven’t hunkered with.” [3]

From Wikipedia on Hunkerin’

(Swiped from A Continuous Lean — Click through for more great images.)

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From the desk of: Robert

With 100 Years of Practice I’d Still Be 100 Years Behind

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