Racial Stereotyping is SO 'in' right now!

So I found an article the other day entitled "15 pictures that prove white people shouldn't dress as other races". I've apparently been spending too much time browsing the Cracked.com forums, because I was expecting hilarity. What I got was a lecture on how degrading it is for one race to dress as another which ultimately trivializes their experiences.

"Hey, foxy lady. I brought you this carriage.
I hear bitches love carriages."

And some hilarious pictures. While the blog was an interesting one, with some interesting thoughts about race, I had my heart set on something a little more lighthearted.

Since the photo captions on Cracked are basically my favorite part of every blog posted over there, I decided to give some of the photos from this article a few of my own captions. I hope you find them as hilarious as I do.

For more racists fashion, visit my earlier blog post; America's Next Top Racist!

Fashion: cutting up ugly ass 70's peacock patterned curtains since....
uh...well...the 1970's.

There's 'No Doubt' that the premise behind this music video
 was terrible.

The only cake this girl has seen is a rice cake. 

That's because all you'll be getting is coal this year.
And black lung disease. 

Step 1: Buy package of feathers from Michael's
Step 2: Glue onto head
Step 3: Profit.

Hey Michael Jackson! It's opposite day!

Spelling Fail - Week of 8/1

This spelling fail is brought to you by KVAL.com. I just wanted to learn about the forest fires blazing through my home state, but instead learned a valuable lesson about the current state of editing in journalism.

Also, who decided "touched off" was so good they had to use it in two separate stories?
Guys, it's not that good. 

Spelling Fail of the Week (or Month) 7/5

Can you go to the store and get me some of dem pablano peppers?

Spelling Fail: Week of 7/14

This is more of a grammar fail, than a spelling fail, but whatever.

At least they spelled Methodist right...

Once upon a time, religion was for the educated. It meant power, as well as literacy and education. In fact, back in the day, the clergy were some of the only people who could read and write....and now look what we've come to. Or should I say 'too'?

Fashion: I Think Your Dress Has Some . . .

One of our readers (otherwise known as Kristen’s mother) sent me a picture that I just couldn’t believe I missed. If you read Is it a Bird? A Plane? A Urine-Soaked Dress? No! It's Fashion!, it’s likely that you honed in on my favorite part which was the Maggy London dress that looks like the girl had a fun night out on the town and then conveniently pissed herself all the way to 2012 Fashion Week.

In case you blocked it out, allow me to remind you:

You can now proudly display your membership
in the “I’ve pissed my pants as an adult!” club. 

I’m wondering what the designers were thinking with this one. I mean, really? REALLY?

But OK. Fine. Let’s pretend we’re there at the meeting, watching. Maybe we can try and figure out the logic behind the choice.

I imagine the designers all sitting around a glass table, drinking Starbucks coffee, looking cool and sophisticated as they’re dressed in Micheal Kors and Dolce and Gabbana. They all have light-reflecting white teeth and every single one of them has done modeling at one point in their lives.

"Hello, ladies. Or hey, fuck it. 
Hello lads."

“So, I know what the new trend for the summer is going to be”, says Ryan casually. Ryan is the executive that got his job, not based on talent or fashion know-how, but because he is very pretty and is excellent at sleeping with gorgeous models and coercing them into participating in photo-shoots. 

You know Ryan is a cool dude because he is wearing sunglasses indoors. His hair is perfect, as if he just stepped out of a manga that was drawn lovingly by a 15 year-old girl with braces and acne.  (Miraculously, he is also straight and as such, has absolutely no concept of what looks flattering on women. This does not concern him, however. In his mind, the only good woman in the world is the one that cleans his house and that's only because she is mute. Oh, and she works for table scraps. Also, he can whistle for her like a dog.)

Everyone around the table perks up. If they can get ahead of the other designers, they all might have a chance at keeping their jobs in the fall.

Ryan stands and declares, “We need something. . .edgy. We need to push the limits.”

Ideas start flooding in.

Wanda: “80’s punk rock meets the jungle!”
“Too last season.”
Hannah: “Victorian England mixed with neon!”
*scoffs*
Dan: “Hobo-couture!”
*He is escorted out of the building and is executed gang –style in front of the nearest TJMaxx. *
Candice: “Rocky meets Rocky Horror Picture Show!”
“One more outburst like that, and I’m sending you all to design for Hot Topic.”

The staff is out of ideas. They sit, breathlessly waiting for Ryan’s big reveal.

“Accidents”, he says simply.

“Like. . .caution tape? Or loud, like sirens?”,  asks Hannah.

“No,” Ryan corrects her. “Like. . .embarrassing accidents.”

“Oh! So you mean like. . .when you rip your best pair of pants and you have to make them into cut-off jeans and then sew a designer label on the back so no one knows it was a DIY project?”

Ryan pounds his fist on the table with frustration. “I mean REAL ACCIDENTS. God, do I have to do everything myself?”

With a dramatic flair, he pulls a scarf off an easel and shows the team the Maggy London Spring/Summer 2012 line.

“I call it Accidental Accidents. Ok, we might need to work on the name but this design is a GUARANTEED success!”

Next up, you’ll see this dress available in the
classic “Brown Downtown” color combination. I can’t wait. 

I rushed out to buy the original in Urine Yellow but how will I ever sleep at night knowing I missed Crimson Catastrophe?

I didn't want to directly say, "lol, looks like this dress has some period on it ha ha ha right right?"

But, uh. . .Hey! Maggy London, if you're reading this. . . 
I think your dress has some period on it.

Spelling Fail: Week of 5/21 - Starbucks, Annapolis

My coworker has a knack for finding amazing spelling errors. She finds the almost every time she leaves the house, which is infrequent because she has an irrational fear of being viciously attacked by ducklings. 

She sends them to me because she knows they fill my heart with joy. Butter also fills my heart with joy, but apparently that’s just the feeling that indicates the onset of a heart attack. It's cool, though. I'm cutting back to two sticks a day. Just don't expect me to be happy about it. 

Anyway! This week’s Spelling Fail Award goes to the maintenance crew for the Starbucks/apartment complex parking lot on West Street in Annapolis, Maryland.

They get an A+ at tracing!

This was just an example of cheeky shenanigans performed by a
disgruntled employee. You might say he was
RETALiating
against the man. 

Too much?

You win at everything. Forever!

Craigslist: I'd REALLY like to sell this ring.

Occasionally I write ads for my friends on Craigslist to try and get rid of their shit. However, I'm never content to just write a regular post. At some point I decided that, even better than selling the ring, maybe I'd write him a personal ad.

So, I did.

http://baltimore.craigslist.org/jwl/2980254319.html

NOTE: I got permission to do this. I'm only a part-time asshole.

email this posting to a friendbaltimore craigslist > for sale / wanted > jewelry - by owner

please flag with care: [?]

miscategorized
prohibited
spam/overpost
best of craigslist

Avoid scams and fraud by dealing locally! Beware any deal involving Western Union, Moneygram, wire transfer, cashier check, money order, shipping, escrow, or any promise of transaction protection/certification/guarantee. More info

Engagement ring for sale. . .I need beer money. Best Offer? - $500 (Glen Burnie, MD)

---

Date: 2012-04-26, 10:52AM EDT
Reply to: ct9bv-2980254319@sale.craigslist.org ^{[Errors when replying to ads?]}

---

I have a ring for sale. You'll like it because it's pretty. Probably like your fiancée, if you're a dude.
Or, like you, if you're a girl! (Hey, I'm selling a ring, here. You can assume that means I'm available.)

I could tell you my sad tale of woe about everything that led up to me wanting to get rid of this symbolic circle of doom, but that's not really the kind of thing you tell people the first time you meet them. Just know that I really want to sell this ring.

Specifically, I want to sell YOU this ring, but I don't want to get scammed, ya dig?

So, that said. . .Local Pickup ONLY. (No exceptions. Not even if you're ridiculously hot.)

Details:
• The ring is a size 7. I think. You know who wasn't anywhere near a size 7? My manatee of an ex. ZING! No, just kidding. She was like a size 4, which is what I'm hoping you are if you're an attractive female, viewing my listing for this ring. Then when you, the attractive girl who is engaged, comes to pick up this ring from me, I can ogle you and you'll get the physical validation you've been seeking. It's a win-win for both of us!
• The ring is 14k gold or something. It's that "white" gold, even though that's totally a misnomer because it isn't white at all!
• F-G VS2-SI1 - That's the quality of the diamond. It could also be the model number of a fighter jet but then why would I sell it?! Are you kidding me?! I'd execute a precision strike on that brainless slutbag's love-den before going on to act out my fantasies as a modern day American action hero! America, man. Fuck yeah. 

Ok, ok, I'll be serious for a second since I am legitimately trying to get rid of this. F-G is the color, VS2-SI1 is the clarity for the two little diamonds, weighing 0.25 cts each. E/SI2 is for the center diamond, which is 0.66 cts.
• I have a paper from when the ring was appraised in February, 2011. The price I paid for the ring was $2500 and Dominion Jewelers appraised the actual worth at $5000. I'm entertaining almost all offers because I don't think you can put a price on the relief I'll feel once I've finally severed ties completely with that vapid troglodyte I once considered binding myself to for life.

Plus, I really need beer money. All this sadness isn't going away on its own.

Honestly, I was about to throw this ring into the ocean this weekend, but then I realized that the only way I was ever going to be free of its evil was to toss it into the fires of Mt. Doom. However, since I don't live in world with hobbits and ridiculously hot elves, and my name is not Frodo Baggins, I decided to post it on Craigslist instead. Think of this as a quest, if you will. Should you accept the burden of the ring, you'll save my life from the corruption and power it has over me. Also, you'll fuel my lifestyle as a highly functioning alcoholic. There's absolutely no downside!

If you're questioning the legitimacy of what I'm saying, I'm so eager to get rid of this ring that I'll meet you at a jewelry store and you can get the thing appraised yourself for peace of mind. Afterwards, if you're a dude, we'll go have a beer and celebrate your pending engagement to a woman that won't ruin your life!

If you're a woman, we'll go have a beer and celebrate that you are the proud owner of a diamond that will make your friends jealous. While we're drinking, I'll probably be so intensely charming that you might just beg me to give you the ring as a sign of our future intent to be wed. However, I was already duped once. I'm no sucker!

More likely is that we'll both descend into a state of drunkenness together. Eventually, after hours of fantastic conversation and casual flirting, you'll decide I'm a pretty good guy and you'll make it apparent that you wouldn't mind too much if I made a sloppy move on you even though you're engaged. However, because I'm not just a good guy - I'm a GREAT guy - I will ignore your clumsy, drunken advances and instead give you my number and put you in a cab to take you home.

The next day, you're going to be hung over and miserable, but my display of chivalry will stick with you. Eventually you'll do it. . .you'll send a "thank you for not taking advantage of me, even though I clearly wanted you to" text. You'll be impressed with whatever witty response I send you and a conversation will start. From there, it's a build-up of textual flirtation over the course of a few months before we somehow run into each other at a bar. We'll end up sleeping together as the culmination of months of unrecognized sexual tension. Don't worry, it will be worth it.

So, uh. . .I guess let me know if you're interested in this ring, OK?

• Location: Glen Burnie, MD
• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 2980254319

---

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Some things I hate about Facebook.

Ok, I’ll admit it. I am addicted to Facebook. Yeah, it’s a terrible affliction, but it’s not a habit I intend on kicking anytime soon.

So what if I know everything anyone has posted five minutes after it happened? It makes me feel like I am keeping in touch with them. So what if communication is not a one way street and instead of keeping in touch I am really just being a creepy stalker? At least I am not collecting hair and urine samples.

I’m not going to lie, one of the first things I do when I get up in the morning, is check Facebook. What? I have a lot of friends on the West Coast who post stuff after I go to bed and I have to catch up! Oh god, this sounds so pathetic...next comes the 80 cats and the episode of Hoarders, featuring me crying about people throwing out cat shit that I’ve saved for 20 years.

Regardless of my impending crazy cat lady future, I have a few things about Facebook I want to say. Every morning, I am greeted by the sort of stories from the same people. Here are a few examples of what I am talking about.

1. New mothers posting pictures of their new babies. Look, I’m happy for you, that you have started procreating and are proud of the life that you brought into the world, but posting 1000 pictures a day, of your hairless rug rat making the same face, is ridiculous. I seriously wake up to baby pictures on my news feed every day. And you know, I can adjust my news feed to not include these people, but someone else is just going to pop out a kid and I’ll have to block them. It’s like all these people are procreating like it’s their job...or like, a biological imperative or something. Assholes.

2. Some Generic Role in Society: This is What People Think I do. These are inevitably filled with inside jokes, and you know what, I usually don’t get them because I am not a belly dancer or a mathematician or a zookeeper or whatever the fuck is being posted.

Who wants to use the pumice stone on my bunions?

3. An update about the 5th coffee you drank today. Did it have cream? Did you drink it black? OH MY GOD I AM ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT!

4. Music videos. If I wanted to know what you listened to, I would be your friend on last.fm or spotify.com or some sort of music sharing site. Really, I don’t need to know the 10 anthems you’ve selected for your workday and watch their associated videos. This is not youtube. Also, who sorts the goddamn mail while listening to Chris Brown? 5. Really happy, sun shine-y good morning messages. Like, hello world, I am alive and SO glad to be and I love each and every one of my glorious, amazing, beautiful face book friends, many of whom I have never met in real life.. And now the birds will come and help me get dressed and the squirrels will shave my legs for me, tra la la LA la.

Facebook is for sharing the cool things that are going on in your life, things that other people might want to know about. If nothing cool is going on in your life, then shut the hell up.

Yeah, I'm spiteful like that.

Starbucks; definitely not locally owned and operated.
Image source here

This morning I went to Starbucks and got coffee. I’m not expecting you to throw a parade or anything.I drink a lot of coffee so a trip to Starbucks is not out of the ordinary.

But in truth, I hate Starbucks. Yeah, they started in Seattle and I’m from the Pacific Northwest so yay us, but I still hate them. They are a corporate chain and I would much rather go to a locally owned coffee shop that has real character. The problem is, that there aren’t that many locally owned coffee shops around. I mean, I have some in Baltimore that I go to, but out in Salisbury, the armpit of the Eastern Shore (which is really the armpit of the East Coast), I haven’t really seen one yet. Come to think of it, I haven’t even seen a Starbucks. Which is weird, because they are on every street corner. Maybe we just don’t have many corners in Salisbury. They decided to do away with them because they were too much of a temptation for prostitution and selling drugs. Or maybe nobody on the Eastern Shore drinks coffee. They don’t need to be awake because nothing really goes on out there.

So Starbucks. Sometimes, you just need some goddamn coffee. Sometimes, you wake up on your friend’s couch, after 13 hours of drinking beer and you just need some coffee before the hangover really sets in. Sometimes, you wake up on a couch in Little Italy and you want to go to a fancy Italian restaurant for some amazingly delicious and ridiculously expensive coffee, but no one is open because it’s 8:30 in the morning on a Sunday and normal people are at church or sleeping. Sometimes, you just need coffee so badly that you instead walk to Starbucks and buy a giant coffee to make you feel like a real person again. Sometimes.

Since I went to Starbucks with several people, we actually talked about coffee. One of them actually KNEW things about coffee. He ordered a dry cappuccino and it made me so happy. Not because I think cappuccinos are good or anything, but because specified how he liked his cappuccino. This might seem odd to you, but having been a barista, it is actually a big deal.

Once upon a time, when Borders was still in business, I worked at the Seattle’s Best Cafe inside the store. Hooray books and coffee, what a great combination! I love caffeinated literate people. They get shit done.

As a barista at Seattle’s Best Cafe, it drove me absolutely fucking crazy when people ordered things in what I deemed to be a stupid way. Because I want to break this blog post up and make it look like I am actually writing something interesting and important, I will make you a list of the things that drove me crazy.

Things that drove me crazy when people ordered coffee; a list.

Ordering a grande. Or a tall. Or a venti. Hello, please read the sign above the counter and tell me where you are. Is this Starbucks? No. So order a goddamn medium like a normal person and give me a tip.

This is NOT a macchiato.

Ordering a caramel macchiato. A real macchiato is espresso with a spoonful of milk foam on top. Starbucks took a caramel latte and gave it a new name so that idiots like you can pretend like you know something about coffee. So again, take a look at the sign above the counter and tell me if you’re at Starbucks. Oh, you’re not? Well order your damn caramel latte, give me a tip and go wait at the end of the counter. 

Trying to pay with a Starbucks gift card. No ma’am, I’m sorry I can’t take that. Why? Because it’s like trying to pay me with Canadian dollars. Yes, I know it’s worth something somewhere, it’s just not worth anything HERE. No, it’s not hilarious that you mixed the two places up because you are the 50th person to do it today and it wasn’t funny the first time.

Ordering a cappuccino. When you just order a cappuccino, I have to wonder what exactly you mean by that, so then I ask, wet or dry? When people give me a blank look, it makes me want to pour scalding espresso on them. A cappuccino is espresso with foam. If you like your cappuccino dry, it means all foam. If you like it wet, it means a mix of foam and milk. If you don’t know the difference between a wet and dry cappuccino, order a latte and give me a tip.

Setting books on the counter that you don’t actually want to buy. I know that it’s crazy that I want to make you pay for something that you put on the counter. It’s not like this is a retail store where these things are available for purchase. I know you are just here to pull books off the shelf, read them and then leave them on the table for someone else to clean up. Maybe you should try a library, I hear you can read everything there for free. Regardless, if it has a bar code and you set it on my counter at my register, I will try to make you pay for it. If you didn’t want to buy it, don’t put it on the counter at a register. Hold it in your hand or tell me that you don’t want to buy it.

Being rude. This is try for any interaction with people, but when you are nice to me, I want to be nice to you. When you’re rude to me, guess what? I don’t want to help you at all. If you have a problem with something, be nice. It’s a lot more likely that you’ll get you what you want. If there is something wrong with your drink, kindly let me know and I will make you a new one. If you are rude about it, I will wish horrible deaths upon you as I struggle to make your new beverage as poorly as possible with the milk that is closest to the expiration date and burned espresso. Yeah, I’m spiteful like that.

Whipped cream. Now, I actually liked getting to make drinks look fancy with whipped cream and garnishes, and I thought my caramel swirls looked pretty fantastic, but there are things you need to know when you order a drink with whipped cream. At Seattle’s Best, we are taught to leave a little room at the top of the cup. We then seal the rim with whipped cream and build up from there. This means that the whipped cream sits above the brim of your cup, usually by about an inch or so. THERE IS NO WAY YOU CAN PUT A NORMAL HOT BEVERAGE CUP LID ON THIS SO PLEASE DON’T TRY. It will only end in tears and a huge mess for me to clean up. If you are in a hurry and need to put a lid on your beverage and cover up my beautiful garnishing skills, just get your drink without whipped cream.

Ask me about how the food is made. Guess what? None of that food is made on premise. It gets shipped here in boxes and lives in the giant freezer in the back until we pull it out and make it look edible. This is a corporate chain coffee shop, not a bakery. If you want freshly made pastries, go someplace else.

Ask me to reheat your coffee. Yes, hot coffee is delicious, but it doesn’t stay hot. I could be a millionaire if I invented coffee that never cooled off, but I haven’t yet. Your coffee will cool down eventually and then it’s time to man up or move on. Drink it cold or toss it out. Don’t ask me if I have a microwave, because I don’t. Even if I did, I would not reheat your coffee with it because that’s gross. Reheating coffee is on the same level as drinking instant coffee; if you do it, you are not a real coffee drinker. If you want more hot coffee, you have to fork over more cash and buy a refill. It’s like 50 goddamn cents for a refill of just straight coffee, so don’t be a cheap ass. Oh, speaking of cheap, don’t forget to tip me.

So not all of the things from this list are a direct cause of Starbucks taking over the coffee world,  but a lot of them are. Starbucks is not the end all, be all of coffee, ok people? Please just keep that in mind when you get coffee.

Oh yeah, and tip your barista, unless they really suck. There are enough Starbucks locations in the world that not everyone who works there is a good barista. In fact, I’ve had some pretty awful service....but that’s a story for another post.

Bank of America Sucks

Because this is our blog, we can feature guest bloggers sometimes, particularly when those guests have an angry rant about Bank of America. If you’d like to learn more about this guest contributor, click here.

This morning I got yet another email from Bank of America alerting me that there is suspicious activity on my card. They said I could review it online, but I'd have to call them if I ever wanted to see my money again.

Thinking of my poor money being held hostage in a dark vault (unlike Mitt Romney's money that enjoys the lovely views in the Cayman Islands) I decided I should leap into action. This being the third time they have held my money hostage this month, I now have the number saved in my phone as "Bank of America Sucks".

It really does. 

I took an hour or so to try and calm down first. I did not want to scream at the representative who answered about how wonderful this "service" is. This is the same service, after all, that failed to catch fraud on my card the one time it actually happened, but since then, has many times kept me standing at the front of a line while I wait to purchase a big ticket item. I am awarded the pleasure of watching the people behind me get more and more irritated as I wait to tell the Bank of America representative, "Yes, I am in possession of my card, and I would like to stop wasting everyone's time in this store. Please turn my card on kthxbi".

I tried my best to avoid sarcasm and snark, but when I'm irritated that is no easy task. The female representative I spoke to didn't seem to mind too much about my snark, and she kindly informed me they turned off my card because someone had tried to activate a World of Warcraft account in Europe.

Totes delighted, I explained, "Yes, I play World of Warcraft. Yes, I do play WoW on the European servers, and yes, I did, in fact, already tell this to someone else when they turned it off YESTERDAY for the exact same reason.”

She turned my card back on, and I then went on my merry way, being sure to make it rain on my ho (AKA . . .giving Ariana her payment for the car I purchased from her).

Can a brotha get a hell yeah?

My only hope is that they will do it again tomorrow. And the next day. And, if I’m very lucky, the day after that. Actually, I don't think my week will be complete unless my card is turned off, forcing me to wait on hold for however long they decide to keep me there just so I can tell them (again), "Yes, I do play WoW on the Euro servers." every day this week.

BROTIP: If you are ever forced to hold for Bank of America, imagine that whoever is going to answer the call has already looked up your account information, and they are simply waiting to pick up the phone until after they can stop laughing at your misfortune. You will be surprised at how calm this makes you, and how well the interaction goes after.

- DnA

Website Review: BestEssays.Com

Occasionally I like to pretend that I’m really fantastic at writing.  When this happens, I browse the craigslist postings for writing and editing jobs. I think I like to make-believe that somehow I’ll get “discovered”. Usually I lose hope after I realize how many quality writers are out there, making billions of dollars and then I slink off to my office job and table my pipe dreams for another day.  Once in a while, however, I am rewarded with an unexpected boost in self-confidence. 

The first post I happened to click on was a person searching for researchers and essay writers for an essay-ordering website. I’d never actually looked at one, so I searched around for such a place and was rewarded with www.bestessays.com.

I looked over the site and I was appalled, amused, and skeptical.  From what I could find, there wasn’t anything warning potential essay buyers that, if the school they attended found out, they could be thrown out. 

Oh, excellent! You mean you can give spoiled, rich, white girls the chance to pay a website to write essays so they can save time to go out and shop? This is genius! Why am I not running out to buy myself an essay right now?!

Oh, well, I was about to. Then I remembered it was called plagiarism to take someone elses work and use it like it’s your own, so I didn’t. Well, that, and the fact that it kind of undermines the entire point of attending school in the first place. 

Morbid curiosity about the quality of such a legitimate essay writing website brought me to take a look at their sample essay. 

First, for an essay that goes on and on about airlines, maybe the writer could have spent 34 seconds using the find and replace function to guarantee that the different names were all capitalized consistently. It doesn’t even matter if they’re consistently incorrect in whatever they write. Couldn’t they at least pretend to care? 

Second, could someone please tell me what “and always seeking for new innovative ways” means? I am not sure I understand. I was going to read it again to see if I could improve my comprehension but then my brain shut off and I blacked out. When I woke up I was drooling on my shoulder and Taylor Swift was playing on repeat. I knew there was a reason I don’t do shots of tequila while writing papers any more, and I’m pretty sure this is why. 

The thing that really got me is this: If for whatever reason you decided to use an essay writing service, why would you ever choose this site?

• They boast a proofreading service, yet they cannot seem to grasp basic rules of punctuation and grammar.
• They charge $9 A PAGE and proofreading by "an editor dealing with academic writing for over 15 years" for an additional $5. In college, most of your papers are at least 4 or 5 pages. After whatever other bullshit they add on, you’re probably looking at around $45 for an essay that a six year old drafted in crayon and a proud stay at home mother committed to a Word document.
• If you’re really so busy and you can’t sacrifice the two hours a night you use browsing Facebook to write an essay, why not just quit school altogether? Think of all the money you’d save! 
  • •