Saamba
LAST 5 ENTRIES:
Remotely interesting - 07.07.2006
Weather or not you believe this.... - 07.06.2006
Dear Scientific Community..... - 03.11.2005
the saambas go missing-in-action - 11.22.2004
i'm baaack! - 10.29.2004
You say potato, I say Holy Shit.
07.19.2004 3:28 a.m.
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�
The other day, while getting ready for a night-on-the-town,
my girlfriend announced that she wanted to wear this new dress that I had bought
her for her birthday. It was a pretty fancy outfit and not something that you
could wear everyday, unless of course you are the type of person who goes to the
Academy Awards on a regular basis. She suggested that if she was going to wear
it, I would have to get dressed up too so that she wouldn�t look like she was
from the planet Overdressed. I agreed, but we were then left with the problem
that all of our friends at the bar (who would most likely be wearing shorts and
tee-shirts) would be asking us why we were all dressed up. We decided that we
would just tell everyone that we had gone out for a fancy dinner. We then began
to discuss what restaurant we would tell them we went to. If we didn�t have our
story straight, we could get caught in a lie. The two of us might accidentally
blurt out a different restaurant name, or someone would say �How the hell did
you get a table there? They�re closed for renovations this week.� or �That place
was reserved for J. Lo�s perfume party.� Eventually, we just decided to actually
go out for a nice dinner. I realized a few minutes later that my girlfriend had
sneakily turned a �few beers out at the bar� into a �fancy and romantic
night out for dinner.� She's good like that.
�
We hit the town and eventually decided to try this new
fancy steak house which wasn�t really all that fancy. It was fancy in the sense that
they ask you what type of bottled water you would like at your table�the brand
of �meticulously collected water made from the dew-drops which form on rare
tulips in the French Alps under the morning sun�, or the type �painstakingly
gathered from the leading edge of the stainless-steel faucet in the back of the
kitchen.� They also bring out a large platter of selected meats to your table so
you can select which cut of beef you would like to have them cook for you. Other
than that, it wasn�t really fancy, especially on the patio where they have you
seated in plastic chairs. We found ourselves somewhat overdressed.
�
After we agonized over the water pedigree, we selected a
bottle of wine. Because it was hot out and kinda humid, we both weren�t really
in the mood for red wine, and agreed that a nice chilled bottle of white wine
would be more refreshing. I was well aware that we were both very likely to
order red meat for dinner, but decided that the �red wine with meat rule� was
just a little too restrictive and pompous for my taste that night. My girlfriend
ordered a prime rib with a baked potato, and I ordered a filet with a side of
b�arnaise sauce. Our waiter did an almost decent job of hiding his disrespect
for us in our choice of food-with-beverage, and pretty much chalked us up as
idiots. He probably imagined that this was our first night out in the big city,
and we had never eaten at a real restaurant before with tables. This thought
occurred to me when he explained that he was going to open our bottle of wine to
let me taste a sample of it. Thanks DickWad. I�ve purchased bottles of wine that
probably cost more than his monthly car payments. He thinks I�m surprised that
it isn�t poured out of a box.
�
The food eventually arrives and we are happily eating away
and jabbering. DickWad forgets my b�arnaise sauce and I eventually have to remind him.
About half-way through our meal, my girlfriend notices that she never got her
baked potato. By this time we were both getting pretty full, and she didn�t really want
it anymore, but we mentioned it to the waiter anyway. It's just one of those things that you think you should probably point out that they missed, so that they are aware of it. However, it is difficult to point out that they missed something when you really don't want it anymore. The conversation, which was
quite agonizing, went like this:
�
GF: �Oh�.excuse me�Hi. Yeah, I never got my baked potato.�
�
DW: �Oh! Sorry! I�ll go get one right now.�
�
GF: �No � it�s ok. I don�t really want it anymore. I just thought...�
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DW: �I�ll go to the kitchen right away.�
�
GF: �No, it�s really ok. I�m serious. I don�t want a baked
potato. I just wanted�.�
�
DW: �I�ll be right back with your baked potato M�am.�
�
GF: �No, seriously. I don�t want a baked potato anymore. I�m
almost full. I wont eat it.�
�
DW: I�m sorry about that. I�ll go get you your baked potato
right now.�
�
GF: �I won�t eat it. I won't be able to finish...�
�
DW: �I will get you one right away�
�
GF: �No. It�s OK. I�m fine. I don�t really want�..�
�
DW: �I understand M�am.� he says with a bit of a tone. *disappears hastily*
�
I was pretty sure at this point that he was going to come
back with a baked potato, despite her request to the contrary. I think that he
was too used to dealing with obnoxious people that said things like �Don�t worry
about it.� when in fact they totally wanted him to worry about it, and expected
some serious compensation in return. That wasn't our style. We were just trying to point out the oversight. In retrospect, what
we should have done was wait till the end of the meal and say �You didn�t get our order right, and it�s too late to
fix it. We just wanted to let you know that you fucked-up.� .....but even then he would probably just think we were looking for a discount on the bill. Constructive criticism is hard to give.
�
A few moments later our waiter returned with THE BIGGEST
BAKED POTATO WE HAVE EVER SEEN IN OUR LIVES. We literally sat there staring at
it in wide-eyed, slack-jawed amazement without saying a word. It was obscene.
After about a minute or two we slowly began to regain our ability to speak. This
potato was over eight inches long and as big around as a baseball bat, and would
easily be a full meal for two people. There are probably folks living on a farm
in Idaho
near a nuclear power plant that would say �Aww, that�s not so big.� but where we
come from it was huge. This was clearly our waiter�s way of saying �You want
a baked potato, bitch!? I�ll give you a baked potato...� I could picture him
storming into a dusty storage room near the back of the restaurant and swinging
open a trap door in the floor to reveal a pale, gnome-like humpback creature
hiding in the darkness below.
�
�Zelig!! Bring me the
W�nderKartoffel!�
�
After the initial potato shock we began to realize what a
terrible waste this all was. Here was this super-spud, which had apparently been
passed over by the potato-snatching machine a few too many times and allowed to
grow for an extra two or three seasons. Maybe it never even made it into the
harvester, and was discarded as a large rock every year until the farmer died
and the land was sold to Wal Mart who dug it up during excavation. Anyway, the
potato certainly had a story and it seemed like a terrible waste to have it come
all this way to be left uneaten and thrown out. We agreed that we would have to do it the justice of trying to eat it. My girlfriend picked up a knife
and cut into it. It unleashed a giant cloud of steam which enveloped the entire
patio and caused a few nearby traffic accidents. She cut away a potato-sized
chunk and dropped it on her plate to begin the tedious job of consuming it. This left 4/5ths of the beast still on the other plate. We
didn�t even finish the chunk she cut off, which was larger than my steak. Sorry,
mr. potato. We're sorry you had to die like this. We loved you.
�
After dinner my girlfriend picked up the tab and I sat wondering if the waiter had handled the situation correctly. If he hadn't brought out a potato he probably would have been afraid that we would hold it against him for not trying to remedy the situation. Instead, I got the impression that he picked the largest potato known to man just to mess with us. And an innocent potato was wasted in the process. My father used to cause a scene in
restaurants if the service wasn't good or something was done wrong. I hated that. I remember sliding down my seat and trying to hide under tablecloths
because I was so embarrassed. "I'm not with the mean man" I would say. He often explained to me that it was necessary so that the staff would know where their deficiencies were so they could improve in the future. In his defense if the service was good he was a very generous tipper. It went both ways. I have found that if you have a complaint, sometimes the staff assumes you are just a jerk or are trying to get a free meal, so you should be mindful of how you bring it up with them.
�
A few weeks ago we went out for dinner in Boston and waited an extraordinary long time for our entries to arrive. Eventually, our waitress appeared and confessed that she had completely forgotten to put our order in, and had in fact lost it
entirely. She had to take our order again, and was really nervous/embarrassed. We never complained. Eventually the owner came over and said all our drinks, appetizers and deserts were free, which was a pretty nice deal for a table of four. That's when I decided I was going to pick up the dinner tab for the group. The owner didn't have to do that, but it was smart. Actually, if he was smart he would have realized we were from out of state and wouldn't likely be coming back anyway - so screw it.
�
Anyway, after the potato incident we headed out to meet friends for drinks. We
stayed out late, listened to a band, had drinks and a good time. No one ever asked us
the whole night why we were dressed up. If they had, I would have said "Potato funeral."
�
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Recently, I set out on a mission to scour DiaryLand to find
the next
PorkTornado. Pork (if I may call him by his first name) has been
hired by a legitimate magazine to spread his funniness, and all of his creative
energies will likely be reserved for his new job. Since he won�t be posting on DiaryLand very much anymore, I wanted to see who else was out there that can
entertain me. You can still check him out at his new
kickasspaying job
though (aka SalamiTsunami), and I�m sure he would appreciate the hits. Hits = money.
�
Since I had a big work deadline coming up, I thought nothing
of spending 15-18 hours of my life trying to visit as many diaries as possible,
looking for the next entertaining person. I started in the �A�s� and worked all
the way down the list, then the �B�s�, etc. After about an hour or two of this,
I began to notice a couple of things. One; I was an idiot for doing this. Two;
There are a lot of similarities and patterns in the diaries. Therefore, to prove
that I am a completely anal-retentive loser, I began to take notes.
�
For the sake of scientific accuracy, I should note that I
only really made note of diary websites which had �custom� designs, and did not
pay attention to people who simply used the default page designs provided by
DiaryLand. These people need to show a little creativity. If you don�t know how
to design the html page yourself, you should at least know someone who does who
is willing to help. The only reason we were able to get this page design for our
diary is because my brother gets paid $120/hour for website design, and he
suggested we stop calling him and do it ourselves.
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I only read the latest entry for each person, so if there
were any extremely funny people who just happened to have an off-day in their
last entry, or their puppy just fell into a chipper�shredder, they�re shit-outta-luck.
�
Here are the results of my ridiculous procrastination pattern
search:
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_________________________________________________________________________________________
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Percentage of diary web-designs
which prominently feature lame poetry or quote: 22.5%
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Percentage of lame poetry or quotes that include the words �cry�, �pain�, �die�, �hurt�,
�kill� or �tears�: 44%
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Percentage of diary web-designs
which feature a picture of a flower: 9%
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Percentage of diary web-designs
which feature an angel, pixie, faerie, unicorn or other gay non-existent winged
creature: 7%
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Percentage of diary web-designs
which feature a picture of a heart. (Or just a heart image. Not a picture
of a heart � that would be gross): 4%
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Percentage of diary web-designs
which feature a picture of a butterfly: 2.5%
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Percentage of diary web-designs
which feature a picture of a celebrity: 13%
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Percentage of celebrity pictures that are Johnny Depp: 57%
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Percentage of diaries written
in a font that is
smaller than the text of the warning labels on cigarette
lighters:
13%
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Percentage of diaries written
inside a box which is no larger than 2� square: 13%
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Percentage of 2� square diaries which use a font smaller than the
text of the warning labels on cigarette lighters: 99.5
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Percentage of diaries written
in colored text over an annoyingly complex background pattern: 3%
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Percentage of diaries written
in dark-crimson-red text over a black background so that you can only read it
with special �Goth� glasses: 9%
�
Percentage of diaries written
in an annoyingly unreadable font:
1%
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Percentage of diary entries
which started with the sentence �OMFG!!!!! [insert name] just
called!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!�: 2.5%
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Percentage of diary entries
which consisted entirely of one useless sentence such as �I�m tired.� or �Hey�my
shoe just fell off.�: 4%
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Percentage of diary entries
which appear to be the last entry before the person killed
themselves and/or everyone in their census�block: 2%
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Percentage of diary entries
where the person is announcing that they are so totally in love that they are
farting bunnies out their ass: 1.5%
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Percentage of diary entries
which mention the fact that their car has just been broken into or they have
been burgled: 1.5%
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Most number of features listed
above found on a single website: 5
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Most annoying diary:
http://drzchula.diaryland.com/
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______________________________________________________________________________________
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I�m not sure what it all means, but I got the serious
impression that most people are really unhappy with their lives, their computer
monitor resolution is for some strange reason set at 800x600 and Johnny Depp is
almost twice as good as a unicorn.
�
Anyway, looking at all the differend diary designs made us want to update our page design to something a little bit spiffier. We did find a bunch of people we thought were very funny and/or generally entertaining to read, and added some of them to our buddy list. We will keep searching though, but I doubt I will take notes again. God, that was anal.
Webdesigner - dont forget to type something really cool here, ok?