Anyone who works a lot online will agree that this project is a godsend.:
The concept behind the StupidFilter Project originated during a conversation between Gabriel Ortiz and Paul Starr. StupidFilter was conceived out of necessity. Too long have we suffered in silence under the tyranny of idiocy. In the beginning, the internet was a place where one could communicate intelligently with similarly erudite people. Then, Eternal September hit and we were lost in the noise. The advent of user-driven web content has compounded the matter yet further, straining our tolerance to the breaking point.
Last may, I got a new laptop. It was an acer5670 aspire, with dual processors, 2 gigs of RAM, etc[1]. While I'd normally feel a bit unseemly for bragging up my laptop specs, this situation is a bit different. Acer -- in their infinite wisdom, gave me a system with dual processors, and Windows XP home edition preinstalled...
::pauses for to give audience a chance to grasp the significance of the proceeding sentence::
You see kids, Microsoft Windows XP Home Edition doesn't support dual processors. So why would Acer package a high end system with an operating system that didn't support it?
Sometimes, when I'm out to eat, a friend of mine will take a bite, grimace, and then exclaim, "uhg, this tastes terrible... try it!" I usually do in a heart beat. There's a priceless hilariity to be found in the horrid.
Similarly, I grimaced while reading this article titled, "Why Enron Chief Was Better Than 'Philanthropists'". The title itself is like a cankorsore -- it's annoying, and hurts -- but for some reason your tounge can't leave it alone.
Now this article suffers from numerous faults. However, what bugs me most was lines along the lines of, "Now we're supposed to be shocked and awed by Buffett's decision to give $37 billion--about 85 percent of his assets--to Bill Gates' foundation."
Okay, so time for a confession. I use AOL instant messenger for IM. Its not that I'm unaware that there are better clients; really its just that I'm lazy, and all of my contacts are on it.
As most AIM users have no doubt noticed, everytime you sign on, a stupid AIM browser opens up, and you get to take a quick look at the AIM homepage. This is a picture of the one I saw tonight:
Now this is worth sharing for a number of reasons.
AOL's Potential Investors Should Take Note of How Effectively Instant Messenger is Targetting its Ads -- As a matter of a fact, AOL is even aware of the fact that I'm a 24 year old male who works as a web designer. I'm not a brilliant programmer, but I know for a fact that if I had data on a suser, I could easily return specialized content to them. And that's why I thought it was so brilliant that they decided inform me that Shakira is back.
That's right SHARKIRA.
And the text, "Just when you thougt it couldn't get any better, Shakira shakes it onto stage" is a priceless gem in itself. As it turns out, when the page loaded, I did in fact ask myself, "can it get any better than this?" Turns out it could! AOL, its really awesome that you know what a 24 year old male web designer is interested in. Thank you.
Who write's the copy for this shit, might I ask? I had to re-read this sentence several times before I was fully able to take in its satanic lameness. I urge the reader to re-read it several times too:
Okay, the quotations around "Rose" were nice. I hadn't initially caught the brilliant play on words the author is making. Get it? His Axl's last name is Rose, and he IS a rose -- cause he's in Guns and Roses. The worst part about those quotations is that the reveal that the author was in fact very proud of himself for figuring that out. Copy writer, we here at Nick Lewis: The Blog are very proud of you too. However, this was just a warm up, THIS is what puts AOL into a completely new universe of lameness:
That is SO pathetic. Its like some pathetic high school girl who wants to be cool, so she goes and buys the same clothes as someone else. This is like trying to tell someone else's story to someone only to realize that they were the one's who told you the story to begin with..
Oh -- and did you notice?
Like I said, Holy Christ! AOL is lame...

I have a friend named Jessica who sends me "the best of" Austin's craigslist personals. Last night she presented me with this magnificent specimen. He titled his ad "want friend will settle for sex".
But wait... there's more... he's even "420 friendly and morally flexible." In the end I couldn't help but think "My god! What every woman dreams of: a pothead who will settle for sex over friendship, and doesn't let things like "morals" get in the way of flexibility!"
Ladies, if any of y'all are interested let me know and I'll give you a link to his profile. Normally, I'd permalink it, but in this case I fear that he's already got enough replies on his hands. I'm sure you understand.
Also, a quick question to my readers: is he puckering his lips as though he is kissing whoever views this, or is that his "cool face", or finally, is he giving puppy eyes... Just curious...
After watching this weather man's over-the-top meltdown[wma], you will, at the very least, say to yourself, "I didn't expect to see that today!".
The driver of the druck got what he deserved; and I am free to laugh my ass off.
Its very grey, rainy, and cold here at Spider House Cafe. Most of my best blog posts are written from this very spot. Of course I doubt the enviroment here today is going to allow any writings of worth.
There is a herd of hippies sitting directly behind me with instruments; one guitar, one recorder, and one girl who occcassionaly sings some sort of pseudo spirtual mumbo-jumbo. But what they play is not music; what you hear is the sound of chaos! The guitarist knows about 8 flaminco rifts in disconnected keys. The woman is stoned out of her mind (i hope). The recorder player....oh the recorder player.
As far as I'm concerned, it's common sense that cream-colored, plastic, 10 dollar recorders are not to be played outside of 5th grade music class -- and best case scenario, one is able to create in-tune squeaks with it. Yet, this bard disagrees with such conventional wisdom. In fact, this virtuoso of the recorder insists on fully expressing himself -- and his whiteboy rastaman vibe -- through the mouth piece of the horrid object. The resulting sound is that of pigs being slaughtered. I'm hearing things at this moment that are so grotesque, so horrible, that if you were to hear a recording of it, you would flee in horror! More notes later... its cold, I'm moving inside.
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