Dasani Tastes Like Soap



She Prefers Dasani, originally uploaded by mckayormacky.

I can’t believe people still don’t feel like complete suckers when they buy bottled water. I can’t believe they allow themselves to be seen in public, displaying their lack of planning skills and/or braincells to the world. I don’t even have anything to add to the bottled water discussion, because it’s all been said before.

It costs more per gallon than gasoline. It’s just tap water, anyway. It has less stringent quality standards compared to municipal water. Blah blah blah. You look a fool. 10x more a fool if I see you walking around with any of that expensive imported Whole Foods shit. Fucking. What. The fuck. Is it organic hydrogen oxide? (I will leave ranting about that pretentious fucking hipster store for another day.)

And yes. Dasani tastes like soap.

The only proper use for bottled water is to store in case of emergency.

I mean, you bastards do know that bottled water is a scam, right? As in, PepsiCo and Coca-Cola knowingly created a “need” out of thin air. You do realize that there are periodicals with names like “Beverage Industry Magazine” and “Beverage Digest” that run articles asking questions like “What can we do about those pesky assholes who come to establishments where our products are served, and then insist on ordering water, preventing us from getting their money?”. I wish I could find the specific article I’m thinking of (yes, I read periodicals with names like “Beverage Industry Magazine” — do not get me drunk and start talking about soft drinks, because I will bore you to death), because it was almost in those words. But I believe it may have been something that got accessed years ago that wasn’t meant to be seen by anyone not involved in the industry.

There must be other ways to monetize stupidity. I need to start brainstorming.

(P.S. While searching for Dasani on Flickr, I found a number of photos of a child by the same name. Which is… just special.)

Today is boring [UPDATED!]

I don’t want to go to the post office.

I don’t want to go to the store.

I don’t want to buy the following:

  • Tinfoil
  • Vitamins
  • Potatoes
  • Tomato sauce
  • Pasta
  • Ground black pepper
  • Olive oil
  • Paper towels
  • Toilet paper
  • Ketchup
  • Floor cleaner
  • Contact lens solution
  • Cat food
  • Razor blades
  • Hamburger buns

And I know you don’t want to hear about it. But you might as well be bored right along with me, and I have nothing more interesting to do or write.

Stupid is a noun if I say it’s a noun.

If you have a problem with that, get off of my blog, and take your stupid with you, stupids.

I reserve the right to bastardize the English language in any way I please. I feel entitled to break the rules based on my above average knowledge of, pff, well. Everything. Breaking rules because you’re a dummy is just dumbness. But breaking them on purpose is amusing, and I’m just so durn darn smart that it’s actually impossible for me to succumb to accidental errorism. I’m a little bit modest about it sometimes, but it’s a fact — I’ve never made a mistake in my life. Anything that happens to look even a little bit mistakey is designed that way.

Do you ever have the feeling that people just don’t “get” you… Yeah… ’cause…

I guess it’s hard for the imperfect to comprehend the utter perfectness of my perfection.

I have no idea what I’m talking about.

“I pressed down the mental accelerator. The old lemon throbbed fiercely. I got an idea.”

I’m going to go watch The Pickup Artist.

Remember the House Hippo?

I’ve been watching old commercials all afternoon on YouTube. Send me more! I demand that someone finds me Thomas Cavanagh doing Labatt Blue Light (“If I wanted water, I’d ask for water!”), because I can’t seem to track it down.

I wish I hadn’t been such a nerd, and edited all the commercials out of my VHS tapes of the X-Files most of the time. Or that I hadn’t thrown the tapes away when the show came out on DVD.

Sneezing fetish

Hey, internet perverts! I know you’re out there! (And seriously, who doesn’t have a fetish that they’d rather not reveal outside of the anonymity of the interbutts?)

Achoo.

Achooooo.

Aaaaaa-fucking–choooooo.

I can’t stop sneezing anyway.

Can someone at least pay me for this shit, please?

Boil. Add sauce. And milk. And butter or margarine. The end!

Who the hell just found my website by searching for “instructions kd macaroni”. First of all, the instructions are on the box, brainiac. Second… anyone who calls it KD shouldn’t need instructions, because if you’re Canadian, you’re born with the required knowledge. The amounts of ingredients are instinctual. If you use a measuring cup, you’re a phony.

Annnnnd, I’m going to bed.

How to Blogetize Your Money

How to Make Money With Your Blog. Blah. SEO. Blah. Monetization. Blah. Boring. Lame. Gay. Gay gay gay gay super gay.

Here’s the only tip that matters: have a blog that doesn’t suck. Then make money as an afterthought. Preferably by supplementing your excellent content with more excellent content, in a form that people might potentially pay for.

Or just do as everyone else does… Have an entire blog entirely about making money with your blog, for other people with blogs about making money (with your blog). Have fun with your little optimization clusterfuck of optimal lameness, and keep your shit off of the rest of the internet. Thank you.

I dunno. Do you really want readers who are lame enough to stick around as regulars to read your PayPerPost BS, anyway? I don’t like lame readers. I don’t have a terrible lot of readers, but the ones I do have are typically not idiots, or at the very least, are smart enough not to make stupid comments. I could never tolerate the kind of reader who might actually believe that I was motivated to try out such and such a software package on my own, or that I’m seriously looking into a vacation at some dumbshit resort. Or worse, to know that it wasn’t the case, and read with interest anyway. You dopes with sites like this might not be lying, but at the same time, you certainly don’t come off as genuine, and reading your textual diarrhea makes me textually vomit (as seen here).

Bleh bleh. Fuck, I can’t wait until the whole thing collapses under the weight of its own stupidosity. Does anyone visit any of those sites with any regularity, other than people trying to do the same shit? Oh, wait. I might be doomed to deal with it a little while longer, until people smarten up (riiiiight). Because while you’re looking for regular readers to visit on a regular basis and comment with regularity (and they will — but only because they want the regular return traffic), what you really want is organic traffic. In other words, hits from people who are probably looking for something other than your dumb shit site, but are too dumb to find it, and miss their target. In which case, your entire website is a giant hunk o’ spam. Shit they weren’t looking for, and don’t want. They might stick around, because like attracts like, but the ones that click your ads are looking for a way out. Hopefully one that leads them to what they were looking for in the first place. Please delete. Your niche-garbage is polluting my internets with stupid. And ugly.

I have one freakin’ block of ads on my site, and I use it to cover the whoooole $5 that my hosting costs (in fact, I’ll probably start taking it down after I reach that point each month), and I really do hope that the majority of you are using an ad-blocker, because really, I only want the people searching for vagina and fucking vagina and penis fucking vagina and gay penis fucking vagina (what?) etc. to see the darn thing. If I knew that any of you regular readers were stupid enough to move their mouse-cursor anywhere near it… (hm, is it against the rules to tell people not to click my ads? I’ll have to check into that…)

I liked the internet better in 1994.

How about we start calling this shit what it is, though. If making money is the first thing on your mind… if you’re picking a “niche” specifically because you think it will earn you cash… if you’re optimizing things for search engines first and regular, intelligent readers second (or as often seems the case — not at all)… You’re not monetizing, you’re blogetizing. And I don’t like you.

100% more trickery

Almay Hydracolor lipstick has 100% more water (and probably costs 100% more, but maybe I’m just a cynical bastard).

That’s right! 100% more water. Taking up the space that would otherwise be filled with, I dunno…

Actual goddamn lipstick.

I’m completely sold.

My snacks are trying to trick me

“Diets rich in whole grains and other plant foods, and low in saturated fat and cholesterol may help reduce the risk of heart disease.”

Yes. That may be true. And it would be just as likely to be true if you printed the same thing on a package of lard. Doesn’t mean the contents of the package are good for me.

Besides, monkeys may fly out of my ass.

Random things getting on my nerves at the moment

  1. Misspellings: Coller and conceded (instead of conceited) (I’ve been complaining about people whose online profiles claim that they are “not conceded” for at least 5 or 6 years now).
  2. All icons from FastIcon.com, but especially that fugly ginormous RSS icon.
  3. Not being able to sleep due to mold, weeds and our lack of air conditioning.
  4. Adobe Illustrator’s refusal to stop giving me a “can’t save the illustration” error every time I try to save an EPS file, no matter what I do.
  5. It’s laundry day again. Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate. Remind me never to live anywhere with a shared laundry room ever again.